AN: So this chapter was originally twice it's length to start, but I've re-written the next part 3 times already and I'm still not happy with how it comes out. I'm not sure why I'm struggling with this chapter so much but I'm going to post this first bit now in the hope that "releasing it into the wilderness" will inspire the rest of it come haha (wish me luck).
I hope this tides you over, although I imagine the ending to this will prob just nauseate you more.. X
Her heartbeat is hammering as she makes her way over to her bedroom door and she is through it within seconds.
She feels her way through the darkness, moving clumsily up and onto the sofa bed, crawling on her hands and knees across the mattress.
"Elliot," she hisses. "Wake up."
She is feeling for a body, but all she finds is crumpled pillows and messy twisted up sheets.
"Elliot," she rasps again, searching redundantly for him in the dark.
She keeps moving until she is slipping off the other side of the bed and is padding towards the window frame.
She peers out the window, trying to make out any shapes through the darkness and downpour whilst simultaneously trying to recall where he kept his gun.
The rain is pelting down outside and it's hazy through the glass but she can just make out the outline of the man standing in the middle of the field.
Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness and the frame of the body comes into focus.
It's him.
Elliot.
Thank God for that.
She lets out a loud sigh of relief as she clambers towards the front door, unlocking the bolt and removing the chain.
She stills in place at that motion when she realizes it was still locked from the inside, her mind reeling in confusion as to how it was still chained.
He must have slipped out the backdoor she assumes..
She steps out onto the verandah barefoot to find the rain pelting down like bullets, the sound hammering furiously against the tin roof behind her.
She folds her arms in front of her, the chill of the night air whipping feverishly through her skin, her nipples pebbling beneath her white tank instantly.
She knows once she leaves the sanctity of the covered porch her tank will be completely transparent but there was no time to grab a sweater.
She catches a bolt of lightening crack just past the trees, lighting up the expanse around her cabin and it's followed seconds later by a thundering boom.
She calls out through the downpour, cupping her hands together so her voice carries when she calls his name.
He doesn't flinch at the sound of her call and she knows she's going to have to physically walk him back if she doesn't want to risk alerting anymore attention to them tonight.
She sucks in a breath, padding down the three stairs in front of her before her feet hit slushy soil.
She moves rapidly through the grass then, the bottoms of her bulky sweats dragging through the muddy grass as harsh shards of rain and wind whip angrily at her face.
Her lungs fill and release at a rapid pace as she takes the final few strides towards him.
"El," she says out of breath, coming up behind him, aware that it's dangerous to wake sleepwalkers especially when they're in unfamiliar surrounds. "El, it's me," she slowly touches his back.
He doesn't respond to her voice or her touch so she moves her hand down his arm until she is encircling their fingers.
"I'm going to take you inside now okay?"
She doesn't wait for his answer, just starts to tug him gently and goes with it, slowly allowing her to slowly guide him back towards the cabin.
He is slow but complaint and when she looks up through the pelting rain she can see his eyes are open and he's gazing forward, yet he looks light years away.
She reaches the first step and turns so she can walk him backwards up the steps, her bare, muddy feet trying not to slip against the wood. She wobbles when the top step ends and he falls a little forward but she manages to press her body against his, somehow able to keep him upright as she continues to lead him towards the front door.
She gets him inside, shutting the door and locking and chaining it from the inside.
"Stay here," she whispers, hoping he will comply long enough for her to check if the backdoor is unlocked.
She wipes her muddy feet as best she can on the inside mat and heads towards the back of the cabin, stilling in place when she finds the door closed.
She takes the few steps forward to find it's locked and bolted shut from the inside, just like she keeps it each night.
She turns around, her gut churning in confusion.
There must be another explanation.
She moves back out into the living room stopping short when she finds Elliot is no longer standing in the doorway where she left him. She starts to panic but her eyes drop to the floor where she can clearly see a trail of muddy foot prints leading towards the closed bedroom door.
Her eyes scan the rest of the house for signs of foul play, checking each individual window that spans the cabin but she sees nothing out of place.
She pads quietly into the kitchen, opening the utensil drawer and removing a medium sized kitchen knife.
She takes in the glistening silver weapon, her heartbeat thudding in trepidation.
She knows she is probably just being paranoid but without confirmation of how he left tonight she's not taking any chances.
She pads quietly towards the bedroom door, the rusted creek of the handle echoing through the small cabin alerting her presence to whoever was is inside. She blinks back at the empty room before she steps inside, her eyes scanning the windows in her bedroom to find that all of them seem to be closed as well.
She looks to her left, catching the bathroom door closed with a small strip of light beneath it.
Her throat constricts uneasily.
It's just him she thinks.
Just Elliot.
She is about to call out to him when something tells her to stay silent, just incase.
She doesn't verbally announce her presence, instead she just starts to slide the rolling door open inch by inch.
She is shaking as she grips the wood with one hand and the knife with the other, desperately missing her sig in that moment. The rails beneath the sliding door rumble, this entire scenario feeling like it's out of some goddamned horror movie.
She is nervous to even look at this point but when she peers through the entryway she finds the bathroom empty, illuminated by one modest bulb above her.
Her heart hammers in her chest, her eyebrows furrowing as her attention moves towards the shower and she can see the curtain subtly wavering as if it had been recently touched.
He's in there.
He has to be.
"El," she whispers, her voice shaky. "You there?"
She is hoping - praying that it's him.
She moves forward, lowering the knife and raising her fingers to the curtain.
She knows there is nothing to be afraid of.
He is sleepwalking – that's all this is.
He's not possessed by a spirit, there is no serial killer waiting to dart out at her from behind the shower curtain.
It's just the combination of the rain, the locked doors and his continued absence that is sending her anxiety into overdrive.
Her hand clutches the knife in her palm as she draws the curtain open, the shower rings clanking one by one as she drags the plastic slowly across the metal rung.
She spots him then with his back to her, facing towards the shower head.
She looks down at the knife in her hands, realising it's only going to be a danger to both of them so she slips it into the top draw of the sink and steps into the shower, coming up behind him and very slowly. She gently runs her hands up his back until they're smoothing across his soaked shoulders.
"El," she whispers against the back of his neck. "I'm gonna take you back to bed okay?"
He says nothing.
Does nothing.
She starts to rub her hands up and down his arms a couple of times for warmth before she encircles his wrists gently.
"You could slip and hurt yourself in here," she tries.
She begins to tug him towards her, attempting to draw him backwards but he resists, stubbornly keeping his feet planted in place.
She waits a few beats, trying to figure out her next move when he steps forward, and suddenly an unrelenting cold spray thunders down on both of them.
She calls out, hastily pushing past him and turning the faucet off, shutting the excess spray off with a gasp.
She lets out a breath, her body now soaked even further and shaking from the chill.
She waits a few beats, the room drawing quiet and she decides in that moment she can no longer stay in these frozen clothes.
She hooks her thumbs into her sweats and slips them downward before she is tossing them out of the shower and they land on the floor with a hard slap.
She slowly steps forward then, her fingers skimming along his hips as she attempts to lift the hem of his dripping shirt up and over his head. She starts to raise it and he obliges, moving his hands up and allowing her to tug the drenched material up and off him. She gets it free and clear and then tosses it out to join her sweats, the second slap hitting the hard tiles just beneath the shower curtain.
She looks down at his lower half, the drenched material clinging to his thighs and her hands slowly return to his hips, her fingers making the executive decision that his sweats need to go too. She draws the wet material downward, lowering them to the floor, coming face to face with his soaked boxers before she is rising back up to her feet and urging him to step out of his drenched clothes.
She turns away from him then, this time using both the hot and cold spray, testing the temperature with her hand before she slips under, the warm welcome water pouring through her already soaked tank. She sighs beneath the spray, the downpour taking the edge off immediately, her body temperature slowly beginning to rise once more.
She knows she needs to get Elliot warm too, but she doesn't want to risk pulling him under the spray only to have him choke or slip so she'll have to use towels and warm covers instead.
She stays under for just a few more moments before she is feeling for the faucet with her hands.
She switches the water off, bunches her hair into her fist and wrings out her hair.
But when she turns around to face him she realises once more that he is no nowhere to be found.
TBC
AN: I hope to be back soon.