Thank you so much to everyone for their support and reviews! I never would have thought my little fic so many people so happy! Kisses! Kisses everywhere!
Song of Choice: Within Temptation "Smells like Teen Spirit"
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Tink stepped out of her little green bug late Monday afternoon, the fresh-from-the-fryer box of doughnuts she brought for Wendy keeping her ungloved hands warm as the Maine weather was already dropping into the sixties.
Felix jumped out of the other door. "I can carry those you know."
"I'm a modern woman Felix." Tink disclosed. "When I bring a box of doughnuts twice my size, I expect to carry it up three flights of stairs."
Felix gave her a non-amused glare and took the box from her.
"Thank you boo." Tink winked, walking a head of him.
"You think for a man who charges out the ass on rent, he'd put in an elevator." Felix grumbled as they headed up the stairs.
"Hey, it's nicer than mine and Pan's. Besides, it's good cardio."
Felix panted and rested on a wall. "You think all the running around we do with Pan we'd be regular bodybuilders."
Tink waited for him to catch his breath and made no further tease about his health. Felix always had to be careful about how he pushed himself physically. Too much strain on his body could lead to a seizure before they even knew what was happening. The lack of physical endearment left the photographer too lean and too undernourished in Tink's mindset, and she often tried to bring him along on her brisk morning runs or to one of her yoga classes. However, his medications, doctor appointments, and interludes with Pan often left him too exhausted to make such attempts. He had energy today, however, and Tink counted that as a blessing.
Not that she was very religious.
They reached the third floor and paused when the door at the end of the hallway, Wendy's door, opened.
They watched Wendy peak her head out, looking at one end of the hallway and then to the other until she finally noticed them. She paused, letting her mind assure her that they were real and not the phantom figure she had been seeing the last two days, and stepped out into the hall, bucket in hand.
"This doesn't look good." Felix insinuated, noticing Wendy's rumpled clothing and greasy hair.
"Hi!" Tink chimed, trying to keep her eyes on Wendy's face and not on the crutch lying next to the dried up something on the floor. Hadn't Pan said he had lost his crutch?
"Hi." Wendy responded tiredly.
"We tried to call but…"
"Yeah." Wendy spoke hoarsely. "I forgot to charge my phone."
"For two days?" Felix deadpanned, earning a swift kick to the ankle from Tink. She snatched the box of doughnuts from him. "
We brought you a snack!"
Wendy looked down at the fried, sprinkled cyclopes and made a face. "They look great, but I'll pass."
Tink frowned, concerned at Wendy's lack of appetite and the fact that she now had a giant box of doughnuts to eat.
Wendy went back to her task, taking a soapy rag from the bucket and scrubbing harshly at the dried vomit on the ground.
Tink knelt down at her side and picked up the crutch, eyeing the bags under her eyes and sending a worried glance to Felix.
"Did your Dad get home okay?"
Wendy stopped, her expression darkening a bit. "Like I said, my phone isn't charged." She scrubbed harder. "I don't want to talk to him anyway."
Tink bristled. In the short time she had known Wendy, she'd seen her in an array of emotions, from sunshine smiles to seething irritation, courtesy of Pan. She had yet to see Wendy at her darkest, see her totally and utterly defeated. Just the other day she was convinced Wendy Darling didn't even know what defeat was.
"How about we go back inside?" Tink suggested.
"I've got to clean this up." Wendy mumbled.
Tink looked at the miraculously clean carpet surrounding the spot. "Mr. Gold has someone come to clean the carpets every couple of months." she reassured. "He'll handle it. Let's just-"
"Will you just leave me alone!" Wendy shouted in her face.
"Okay," Felix stepped in when Tink shrunk back. "Let's calm down and regroup."
"I am calm!" Wendy yelled at him. "I just want to be alone.
Felix knelt down to her level, scooping the brush out of her hand before he could use it as a possible weapon. He stared at her for a moment, eyes wandering over her face, seeing the restless nights and paranoia as he had seen it in so many others.
Including his own.
"What happened with de Vil was horrible." Felix began, keeping calm when he saw Wendy's form tightened, "It shouldn't have happened, you shouldn't have been in harm's way and shouldn't have become her target," he watched her lip tremble and prepared for the backlash, "and I'm not going to sit here and tell you it's over, because for all I know it will never be over for you…"
Wendy's head fell and Felix turned to Tink for a tap-out.
Tink knelt beside them, tentatively taking Wendy's hand. "Cruella de Vil gone, Wendy. Graham killed her and now her body's chilling in a meat locker until the Boston authorities pick her up. She's gone Wendy, and she can never hurt you or anyone again."
Wendy shook her head. "I know that. I heard the bullet go into her."
Tink shuddered and Felix glanced around to see someone down the hall peak from their door.
"Let's move this inside, okay?"
Tink escorted her inside while Felix picked up the forlorn crutch, shaking his head. Tink sat her down and went about making tea, noticing the lack of dishes in the sink or dish drain and fearing Wendy hadn't been eating properly.
Felix looked back and forth at his girlfriend and at Wendy who had decided to curl up in a tight ball on the couch. He turned to Tink and mouthed "help me". Tink mouthed back, "I'm making tea, shut up!"
"After my dad left," Wendy spoke up suddenly, "I saw that Pan had left his crutch. I wanted to throw it out the window since he ran out on me so suddenly, but I thought the walk would do me good so I decided to take it back to the paper."
Felix glanced at Tink who had turned sour. Probably mentally cursing Pan.
"I stepped out of my apartment…" Wendy shook her head. "And I could hear her."
"Hear who? Mrs. Asperdam from down the hall?" Felix inquired. "Look, the woman's a little senile. Just turn the music up and-"
"Felix what the Hell are you talking about!" Tink yelled at him from the kitchen.
Felix looked back at Wendy. "You weren't talking about the lady down the hall who talks to her dead husband's ashes?"
"No." Wendy affirmed tiredly. "I was talking about that blasted devil woman."
Felix and Tink looked gravely at each other. "Wendy, Cruella de Vil is dead. You must have-"
"It was her damn red heels!" Wendy cried. "I thought she was coming down the hallway. I could hear the clicking and I could hear her voice." She covered her face, shoulders shaking. "It felt so real."
Tink sat the tea things on the coffee table and sat beside Wendy. "Wendy, it's okay. I know how you must feel but-"
"How would you know!" Wendy shouted, jumping off the couch and pointing accusingly at her. "Did you have a gun pointed at your head? Did you watch a pregnant dog get mutilated? You don't know, Tink! You weren't there!"
Wendy felt the guilt before she felt the grief. Tink was the last person she wanted to take her anger out on (Pan being the first). She felt shamed and lost and all she wanted was to be left alone to drown in her outbursts.
"You're right." Felix perked up suddenly, earning a mixed look of shock from his girlfriend. "She doesn't know what you're going through, but I do." He tapped on the scar running down his face.
"After my accident, I couldn't get behind the wheel of a car for five years. I would freak out at every sound, every bump. There are times I still can't…"
Tink reached for his hand when his voice started to break. Wendy watched as he patted it and felt humbled to witness such a loving bond.
"I still can't drive. I tried once and went into a panic attack. I can't drive, but that doesn't stop me from getting in the car. I ride shot-gun or in the back."
"And he screams at me if I go over 20 miles per hour." Tink teased.
"I don't scream, I…bellow."
"I've heard opera singers with less tempo."
"Anyway!" Felix piped, frowning good-naturedly at his giggling girlfriend. "My point is that despite the trauma, I still try to power through life. You went through Hell, Wendy. But you have to move forward or that devil woman lives forever."
Wendy covered her face and willed de Vil's snarl from her mind.
"How do I even start?"
Felix started shuffling through his pockets and pulled out a series of rumpled gum strips, receipts, and a wrinkled pink flier.
"There's this thing every year at the hospital," Felix explained as he smoothed out the flier, "A kids day. It's short, sweet, and totally easy to write about."
Wendy smirked as she took the flier. "You're going to send me into a room of screaming kids?"
"I'm giving you a chance to get out of the house. Keep your mind occupied so that the nightmares won't have room to take over."
Wendy looked down at the flier. The pink hurt her eyes.
"I'll only be for a few hours." Tink chimed in. "And I'll be at the refreshment stand the whole time."
Wendy looked back and for the between the two. They were trying so hard to help her heal. As much as she wanted to curl up into a ball and die inside, that wasn't who she was, and Felix and Tink seemed to understand that.
Taking a deep breath, Wendy nodded her consent. Really, how bad could it be?
-,-,-
Bad. Really, REALLY bad.
Between the overwhelming smell of disinfectant mixed with sugary sweets, the bright florescent lights, and the stampeding children who were well enough to get out of their beds, Wendy was amazed she had lasted the thirty minutes she had been there.
She managed to get a few words in with a parent and a nurse, but her pen would jump off her pad every time a child would brush against her or screamed at the top of their lungs. She partially blamed the cheap, rubbery pad Felix had lent her. She couldn't wait until Graham returned her journal from the evidence.
She only prayed it wouldn't have blood on it.
After fifteen more minutes, Wendy decided she reached her limits and went to find Tink at the refreshment stand.
"Hey," she said, barely dodging a skipping boy. "I'm going to head back to the Mirror."
Tink nodded and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Want some lemonade before you go?"
Wendy grimace at the yellow liquid. "No thanks."
Leaving the children's ward was like stepping into another world. The scent of disinfectant was more prompt, the lights more brighter now that there weren't children running all over the squeaky-clean floors.
And it was blissfully quiet.
Wendy let out an anxious breath as she searched for a water fountain to quench the dryness in her mouth.
She'd only been out of her apartment for three hours and she was already exhausted. Worst of all, she knew the story she had just written was award-winning crap but she didn't have the time nor the energy to rewrite it. She'd drop it off at the paper and let Pan or whoever deal with it.
Wendy's sensible boots echoed in the hallway as she walked. The creepily empty hallway. Wendy glanced around and frowned. Where were the nurses? What part of the hospital was she in anyway? Had she made a wrong turn?
As she ventured further, more cautiously now that she was sure she was lost, the overall scenery seemed to change. The floor had transitioned from illuminate tile to rough concrete, the walls from their pale blue to unwashed white. Even the air smelled different, more denser and moldy. The natural lights from the windows was replaced by the barely-there illumination of a yellowing bulb.
"Oh no." Wendy muttered. The last time she wondered off she ended up in a kennel. For all she knew she was walking right into the morgue.
She stopped when the light no longer reached down the hall. "Hello?" she called into the darkness. "Is anyone down there?"
The sound of rusty creaking responded, causing Wendy's uneasiness to escalate to an alarming point. The creaking suddenly turned into unsteady footsteps that sounded like they were picking up speed.
And getting closer.
Wendy gathered just enough of her wits to begin stepping back, but her eyes wouldn't leave the shadowy figure coming right at her.
Oh God not again.
Wendy felt frantically for the wall to prevent herself from falling back but instead tripped over her own feet as the figure ran straight into her. She screamed, as did the figure, and grabbed its shoulders to keep it at bay.
"No! I am not going through this again!" She flipped the person onto their back effortlessly and picked up her only accessible weapon: her floppy notebook. She raised it, ready to beat this thing if she had to render unconsciousness.
"Please…"
Wendy paused at the meek voice of her opponent. She slid back just enough for the weak lightbulb to display the person's face.
Long, unkempt hair framed a sunken face, the eyes of the face were wide and woefully terrified. Wendy's eyes crept down the person's face to their thin neck to the collar of their torn, dirty gown.
"I…are you okay?" Wendy whispered.
The creaking from before resumed and before Wendy could blink, she was on her back, the person jumping up and moving around frantically.
"Please don't…"
Wendy sat up, looking at the…woman? She couldn't tell the poor thing was so malnourished.
"I wasn't here…I…"
Footsteps echoed down the hall and the woman limped away as fast as she could.
Wendy stood, trying to gather what she had just come across.
"You!"
Wendy shot around, a light brighter than the dingy lightbulb overhead blinding her. An unforeseeable hand grabbed Wendy's collar and pushed her into the wall.
Wendy's mind seemed to freeze in a haze of white shock. She couldn't cry out or lift her arms to fight the man holding her against the wall. Her whole body just seemed to shut down her defensive instincts.
Behind the white light she could just see movement, but couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing to her ears. There was someone tall holding her to the wall by her throat an someone behind him reflecting two clashing lights in her eyes. Spectacles perhaps? She couldn't tell from the blackness blinding her view.
She was choking to death for sure. She could feel the sweet burn of deprivation in her lungs and feel her head bloat with the need to breathe. No other thoughts came or went. It amazed her how just this morning she had been terrified of going out because death had been just in her reach.
Now, she couldn't find the strength to feel anything, just to give into the spacey darkness that was engulfing her vision.
And suddenly, like waking up from a deep sleep, it was over. Air filled Wendy's lungs at a pace so rapid it made her nauseous. She coughed and gagged and looked around for the person who assaulted her, but the hallways were now empty. The only indication that another life had been with her was the swirl of dust from their retreat and burning on her throat.
She grasped at the wall, her head spinning with shock and relief as hot tears ran down her cheeks.
She felt her way along the walls, limping her way back the way she came until the lighting changed. Her mind was unable to comprehend what she had been through or who had attacked. She wasn't even sure if she was attacked at all. It didn't feel real, like she was attacked by a phantom rather than a person. The only thing she knew for certain was that someone had ran into her. She had looked into their eyes and touched their icy skin. Something was wrong here, something unnatural, or illegal at least.
She could finally smell the over-sanitized hallway instead of the moldy decay. She looked back down the hallway and noticed some torn security ribbons crumpled by the walls. It must have been a blocked off wing of the hospital, one that no one was meant to go down.
Her head finally cleared as she stumbled back into the children's ward, face tear-stained and throat dry as sandpaper. Avoiding the strange look from the passerby's, she located the blessed exit and reveled in the cold fall air, taking in gulps to cleanse her lungs of the mold and mildew. It was sunset now, an entirely different world than the one she had been in.
Wendy leaned on a tree, trying to decide what to do. Did she go to the police or hospital security? Did she go to the Mirror, tell Sydney or even Pan about what happened? She still wasn't sure what had happened exactly, who she had fought and who had attacked her and why.
She sighed tiredly, her mind still buzzing from the lack of oxygen. Tomorrow she'd return to the hospital with Sydney or Felix and go to security, maybe uncover some video footage from the cameras. Right now, she needed sleep and to be as far away from people as possible.
She kept her eyes downcast as she strolled down Main street, and briefly considered ordering something quick from the diner but ultimately decided against it, not wanting to draw attention to herself while she had developing bruises on her throat.
Something shifted from the corner of her eye, and on skittish instinct, she shot around to see what it was. Something had just ducked into the alley of Granny's diner. The same alley she had nearly been killed in last week.
Wendy forced herself to stay calm. She did not need to have another panic attack in her state. "It's nothing for me to worry about. It's just a stray cat."
She began walking again but the sound of a weak cry from the alley halted her steps. Her skin began to crawl at the absurd idea that Cruella de Vil's spirit was haunting the alley, and thus her.
"Don't do it." She told herself. "Keep walking. Go home…oh blast it all!"
She pulled out her cellphone and turned on the flashlight.
"Please be a cat! I'll take it home if I have to just no more assaults today!" she prayed under her breath.
She shined the flashlight at the trash bins and jumped when a limb kicked one in its haste to hide.
"Not a cat." Wendy squeaked. She cleared her throat and attempted to sound less terrified. "Who's back there?"
The whimper repeated and Wendy worried that she was about to come across an injured child or a derange homeless. She gripped her phone, ready to use it as a defense against whoever was behind those cans.
She stayed as close to the wall as she could, legs itching to start running if something jumped.
She stopped when the thing behind the cans eased out and looked up at her.
Wendy nearly dropped her phone. "You…"
She stared down at the beaten, pale, and unmentionable thin woman at her feet, shaking and staring at her like she was Death itself. It was the very woman who she had wrestled to the ground of the abandoned hospital wing just an hour ago.
And she had the most intense blue eyes Wendy had ever seen.