co-authored by my boyfriend The Lord of Chaos
For a spring day, Emma couldn't help but find the weather unseasonably wrong. Rain fell down in thick droplets against the window, but a fan was whirring nearby, buzzing like an insect trying to cool the overly warm room. She knew that she should be paying attention in class, but there were too many other things for her to concentrate on instead. Between the rain, the fan, the faint tick tick tick of the clock, her teacher's voice was just barely breaking through her thoughts but not forming words. Emma was tired, and the noises surrounding her were starting to lull her to sleep, the rain pulling her into yet another daydream.
A strong part of her was longing to rush outside and into the rain. She wanted to lie out on the grass, close her eyes, and let the cool water rush over her. At least she hoped the rain would be on the cooler side. Anything had to be better than being stuck in the classroom with her mind stuck between fretful sleepiness and a numb awake.
Emma suddenly felt herself lurch forward as her chair was kicked from behind, and she sat straight up in her chair. She took a look around to notice that she was being stared at by her classmates, and her teacher was looking at her, her expression unenthused and a touch concerned.
"Yes?" Emma questioned, rubbing her eyes hard and hoping that it wasn't obvious she had been falling asleep again.
"Emma," Miss Sprout said gently, "I was asking if you were all right."
"Oh," Emma said, giggling nervously. She felt her face heat up as more of her classmates turned to look at her. "I'm all right."
Miss Sprout didn't seem at all convinced, her lips pursing as she studied Emma closely. If she didn't look away, Emma was sure she would spontaneously combust from sheer embarrassment.
"Are you sure?" Miss Sprout asked, crossing her arms. "You seemed to be asleep again."
"I promise," Emma said with a dramatic sigh for emphasis. "Just the weather, you know."
"This is the third time this week, Emma. Come talk to me after class."
Miss Sprout started to turn back around to begin teaching the class, but Emma began to fly into a panic.
"Oh!" Emma said quickly. "That won't be necessary!" Miss Sprout turned around to level Emma with a stare. She reached down for her bag sitting at her feet and pulled it onto her lap. "I just forgot to take my medication. It won't happen again."
"Emma, I have told you repeatedly that if you need to take your medication in class, you may," Miss Sprout said, putting a hand on her hip. "But I'd still like to talk to you after class – and don't you dare try coming up with another excuse to get out of it."
Another heavy sigh escaped Emma's lips as her classmates began to snicker, but she ignored them. It felt like she had the same conversation with Miss Sprout every week, but she had escaped each and every time. It appeared as though her string of good luck had finally run out, and she glared at her teacher's back as she turned around to teach once more.
Not wanting to be caught in a lie, Emma searched her bag hastily for what she thought was a vibrant orange bottle. The one time she needed to find her medication easily, it seemed as though the bottle was nowhere in sight. She thought that she had tucked it away in one of the inside pockets, but it had wiggled its way out into the deeper section of her bag. Emma pushed aside the mess of papers and books, plunging her hand deeper into the bag and feeling around until she found exactly what she was looking for. She made an overdramatic show of pulling out the bottle once she found it, opening with a flourish and tipping one of the pills out. Emma stared at the single pill in her hand with a frown and tipped out a second. The first one always needed a friend; it would be lonely otherwise.
Miss Sprout, annoyed with Emma's antics, turned back around to stare at her – now with both hands on her hips. "Emma, do you need to head out into the hallway for a drink of water?" she asked.
"Nope," Emma said, popping the p as she shoved the pills in her mouth, "won't be necessary." She tipped her head back and swallowed, giving her teacher a proud grin. It was Miss Sprout's turn to heave a dramatic sigh, and she turned around once more to resume teaching class.
Rather than aggravate her teacher further, Emma decided it would be a wise idea to try and pay attention. However, she quickly realized that she suddenly had a headache, and for some reason, her hands kept shaking, and she couldn't stop tapping her foot. She looked down at the notes that she had in front of her and groaned. Not only had she missed writing down notes for most of the class, but what she had written was unintelligible. She wasn't even sure that a medical professional would be able to decipher what exactly she had written.
Emma was so fixated on figuring out what her notes said that she jumped when the bell rang. She grabbed her bag, opened the top, and scooped everything off her desk into it with a wide, sweeping motion. It wasn't the neatest way of putting her things away, but it was the fastest, and speed was very much needed. She shot up to her feet, pushing aside her sudden lightheadedness, and stumbled towards her exit to freedom. Emma thought she had managed to escape; she had artfully weaved through her classmates to make it to the door. She could practically taste freedom on the horizon, she could see the crowded hallway, she could –
"Emma Nickels, not so fast."
The temptation to keep running was strong, but before Emma could get too far, she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Emma's remaining classmates turned to look back at her, bursting into amused laughter at the horror-struck look on Emma's face. After weeks of trying to escape, she had finally been caught – she was a very unwilling prisoner to Miss Sprout with no chance of parole. Emma was doomed.
"Miss Sprout, I swear this really isn't necessary," Emma said as the class cleared out entirely. She turned to her teacher with a pleading look, grimacing at the very concerned but stern look that replaced the usually kind expression on Miss Sprout's face. "I promise, I feel completely fine. Absolutely nothing is wrong!"
"You feel fine?" Miss Sprout questioned, closing the door as the final student in the room walked into the hallway. She crossed her arms, studying the ashen and slightly swaying girl in front of her. As much as Emma insisted she was okay, she certainly didn't look it, and the anxious tapping of her foot was just one of the biggest tells the teacher had seen over the past few weeks. There was more going on than Emma was letting on, and Miss Sprout was determined to find out what.
"Totally fine," Emma insisted, tugging on the straps of her backpack with what she thought was a confident smile. "You know me – just getting caught up in a daydream. The weather, it's hot in here…it all just adds up."
Miss Sprout nodded slowly, pulling Emma towards a desk and sitting her down. "Are you sure about that, Emma? You were falling asleep even after taking your medication," Miss Sprout said. "Last I checked, random naps were not a side-effect of your medication. You're meant to be focused, not be ready for bed. You've been losing weight, not paying attention; really you can't seem to focus at all –"
"Miss Sprout, it's really no problem," Emma replied. "I just forget to take medication sometimes, and I haven't been sleeping too well. I'm a bit tired, but nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. I promise, from this point on, that I vow to never fall asleep in class again, and I will always always pay attention to everything you say."
Miss Sprout sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Emma, remember when you told me exactly that last week?"
Emma let out an exasperated sigh. "Did I tell you that last week?" she asked, rubbing her forehead and laughing. "What I really meant to say –"
"Emma, this has to stop."
The sudden sharp and firm tone of Miss Sprout's voice sobered Emma up quickly, and she looked at the woman with wide eyes. She had heard that tone taken with her classmates before, but it had never been directed her way. Emma only knew Miss Sprout as nothing but a kind and caring woman, but this was a side unfamiliar to her, and she didn't know what to do. The only logical thing she could think of was to be quiet for the first time in her life (and plan a very hasty escape in the process).
"You promised me two weeks ago that you were going to hand in the essay that I already gave you two extensions on," Miss Sprout said. "You promised me that you would come back for tutoring for the things you need help with. This isn't the first time we've gone over this, Emma, and I'm getting fed up with the excuses. You are not –"
"I'm fine!" Emma said. "I-I'll hand in the essay by the end of the week. I'll get my grades up –"
"Emma –"
"I'll…I'll come for tutoring! Today!"
"Emma, listen –"
"But I promise –"
"Emma, listen," Miss Sprout said sharply. Emma was silenced once more, unsure of how to react. She cowed under her teacher's gaze, curling in on herself. Miss Sprout pinched the bridge of her nose and sucked in a deep breath before giving Emma a firm look. "You are sick. It's clear that you need to be looked at, and you will be going. Today. I was worried the other day and already told Miss Hepburn that there was a possibility that you would be seeing her, and you will be seeing her right now."
"But I have to go to my next class!" Emma whined. "I'm going to be late, and Mr. Harrison hates when people are late!"
"I'll make sure that you're excused from the rest of your classes," Miss Sprout said. "You're not getting out of it this time. You are going to the nurse, Emma. You need help, and I am not a medical professional."
Emma stared back at Miss Sprout, her lips parted with surprise. She never expected Miss Sprout to treat her the way that she was. Miss Sprout was someone that Emma could consider a mentor, but the teacher didn't seem at all like a mentor at all. Emma felt almost betrayed; she was startled and hurt by the sudden harshness. She didn't do anything to deserve the woman's aggravation, and she didn't like that Miss Sprout was treating her like a –
"Fine," Emma said, hoping that she sounded as though she agreed with her teacher. "I'll go." She stood up as quickly as she could, bracing herself on her desk for support. The sooner she left, the quicker she could go somewhere else. If she would be excused from her classes, she could just leave the campus and do whatever she'd like.
"I know you'll go," Miss Sprout said, giving Emma a knowing smile. "I'll be walking you there. If you believe for one moment that I don't know that you'll slip out of this very building instead of going to the nurse, you are sorely mistaken. You need help, Emma, and that is going to start now."
Emma's stomach plunged south, and hot tears filled her eyes. "Really, this is all unnecessary," Emma cried, no longer above begging to get out of what would happen next. "I swear I'll get my grades back up. I'll pay more attention in class! It's really not necessary for me to have to go the nurse."
"She will be the judge of that," Miss Sprout said, making her way to the door and gesturing for Emma to head into the hallway. "Now, come along, Emma. Don't you dare try thinking of making a run for it. I can promise you that we will drag you back into the building if we have to. You have quite the reputation for running, young lady." As if to make a point, Miss Sprout held tight to the walkie-talkie in her hand.
Emma looked between the hallway, Miss Sprout, and the walkie-talkie in her hand with a grimace. All it would take is one quick call to the school's security guard, and she was in trouble. It wasn't the first time she had a run-in with the guard, and though she wasn't afraid of him, she didn't want Miss Sprout to go through the trouble. At least, she didn't think she did.
Miss Sprout seemed to decide to take matters into her own hands when Emma refused to move from her place. She heaved a heavy sigh, grabbing onto Emma's upper arm, and practically hauled her out into the hallway. Emma's face turned bright red as the students still in the hallway turned to watch what was happening.
"Miss Sprout, is this really all necessary?" Emma asked, trying to plant her feet on the ground so that she could try and prolong the inevitable. Miss Sprout's hand gently, but firmly, pushed her further along towards the nurse's office. All around her, Emma could hear the not-so-quiet snickers of the other students still roaming the hallways. "I can go by myself. You can just leave me right here, and I'll go."
Emma felt her heart begin to pound hard in her chest, her face heating up further. There were things that she didn't want to be made public, and being brought to the nurse's office felt like the worst thing in the world. Her classmates talked about her enough as it was; why did she have to be brought to the nurse's office in between classes with an escort?
"You have tried to escape one too many times, so I will be making sure you get there," Miss Sprout said, her softer tone back. "Come on, Emma. You're not doing too well, so you need to see the nurse. If you feel as fine as you claim to be, what are you worried about?"
For what felt like the millionth time, Emma fell silent. It was clear that Miss Sprout had no intention of letting her escape. She had no idea it was possible for her to be as embarrassed as she was.
After feeling like she was paraded through the entirety of the school, they made it to the nurse's office. As Emma and Miss Sprout stepped into the room, Miss Hepburn greeted them with a tight smile. She apologized and gestured vaguely to the student sitting in the singular chair by her desk with their head tipped back and a blood-stained shirt. Clearly, they would have to wait.
Unfortunately for Emma, there were no other seats present in the office. The room appeared to be in a state of reorganization, and nearly every sitting space was tucked behind boxes except for a lone bed. Not planning to stay there for long, Emma leaned against the wall and grimaced at the look on Miss Sprout's face. She. Was. Serious.
The woman stationed herself right next to the door just in case Emma tried to make a run for it. Miss Sprout was studying Emma closely, and Emma could only hold her teacher's gaze for a few moments before looking away. Something had changed entirely in her teacher's disposition, and Emma hated it. Emma hoped that her teacher's usually kind expression would return to her face, but all that was there was worry and a grim determination. It was a known fact that the teacher had a soft spot for Emma. Emma was affectionately known by her kinder classmates as the human squirrel with her short stature, loud exuberance, and overall distraction. Miss Sprout laughed every single time it was mentioned, giving Emma a small smile. She felt a twinge of guilt – she truly did try her best in her classes, but Emma worried that she finally got on the wrong side of her mentor and English teacher.
As Emma kept her focus elsewhere, Miss Sprout refused to look away from her. She was studying Emma closely, a crease forming between her brows with her worry. On any other day, Emma might have convinced her that she was okay, but the girl in front of her was different. Whatever was going on with Emma had been going on for far too long, and no one had stepped in. Over the past few weeks, Emma had started to look progressively worse and worse – thinner with dark circles around her eyes and increasingly pale skin. Miss Sprout could write off Emma's overall jittery-ness, but her current shakiness was worrisome.
Miss Sprout straightened up slightly as she watched Emma, her frown deepening as Emma paled considerably. A light sweat had started to form on her skin, and she began to sway on her feet despite leaning against the wall. She had never seen Emma look quite so terribly before, and she worried that the girl would fall over.
"Emma, do you want a chair to sit in?" Miss Sprout asked gently, watching as Emma lifted her head slightly with a weak smile. "I could get one for you. You're not looking too well."
"N-no," Emma said, barely turning her head to look at her teacher. "I feel fine. I can stand, thank you."
The truth was that Emma had never felt worse. She felt absolutely miserable, and she had never felt the way she had before. Dizzy, sure. Tired, absolutely. But she had never felt so hot and couldn't understand why her skin felt so sticky and cold from sudden sweat. Everything was starting to get blurry as if she was looking through a tunnel, and Emma felt panic rise up in her system, clamping her lungs like an iron vice.
"Miss Sprout, I don't feel so well," Emma said in a small voice. She wasn't sure that she could manage to speak any louder. "I-I t-think I'm going to f-faint."
Miss Sprout shot forward quickly and gripped Emma's arm to try and help keep her steady. She had noticed Emma getting noticeably paler and that she started to sway on her feet.
"Emma!" Miss Sprout said, snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab Emma's attention. "Emma, listen to me!" She frowned at the dazed look on Emma's face. "All right, come on, Emma. Sit down for me." The more Miss Sprout spoke, the more evident it was to her that Emma wasn't comprehending what was being said. Emma's eyes met hers, but they were glazed over and unfocused.
"I need you to listen to my voice, Emma," Miss Sprout said, raising her a voice a little louder and speaking as clearly as possible. "I am going to sit you down." The tiniest glimmer of recognition crossed Emma's face, and Miss Sprout nodded, uttering gentle encouragement. "Yes, perfect. Do you think you can help me? Slide your feet out for me – just like that honey, perfect," she added as Emma slid her feet forward a little bit.
Miss Sprout held Emma tightly as she tried to get her to sit down, but halfway down, Emma went completely limp. The teacher nearly fell over from the sudden weight, and if it weren't for her tight grip on Emma, the girl would have crashed to the floor.
"Oh, Emma," Miss Sprout sighed as she laid the unconscious girl on the floor. "What is wrong with you?" When she was sure that Emma was safe, she yelled out for the nurse to come out and help. She would figure out what was wrong with Emma if it was the last thing she did.
a/n: Another AU? Yes, another AU.
But Cat, don't you have another one?
Yes, I do. BUUUUTTT this one is different. Way different.
Sometimes I need a moment away from the main series and these AU's help get me away from it and refocus. Now I've got multiple projects going at the same time - oops. This one isn't entirely my child, but it is very much a collaborative project. I'm sure I'll hear complaints about the credit from my boyfriend, but he deserves it, and I'm definitely not working on this project by myself. It's a slight return to the grittier writing that I enjoy and darker themes, so please keep that in mind.
If you're at all familiar with my writing, then you know what you could possibly be in for. If you're not, well...I suggest reading the Moonlit series and finding out!
Thank you for joining me on yet another adventure (and a huge thank you to my wonderful co-author).
xoxo, cat