:
Explosive Decompression
altunderscore
11
cw between the double linebreaks, details in the closing notes
Victoria stared.
She watched as the girl across from her blinked slowly, leaning forward a bit to brace a naked elbow against the tabletop; one green iris drawing tight around the blackish well of a pupil in focus as she drug the sharp point against her skin.
Her lungs were empty, a trick her mother had taught her to steady her hand.
She smiled a little, indulgent, as she carved a line as true as any surgeon's along the curve beneath her fingers.
She inhaled, and filled herself with rain.
Satisfaction.
She exhaled, and fog bloomed between herself and her reflection.
There was a knock behind her and she turned away, sparing only a moment to check for smudges as she tugged the cuffs of her blouse down over her wrists.
Her eyeliner clicked against the tabletop, rolling a few inches across her vanity from where she set it as she stood. Another spattering of knocks at her door, loud, rattling against the frame like thunder. She felt her lips pull back against her teeth as her pace quickened, her casual stride devolving over the course of a step into a predatory lope towards the door. Her fingers hooked over the handle and she tore-
"Can I fucking help you, or is your bullshit terminal?"
She glared down at the girl in front of her, the glut of light from her fluorescents all but drowning the figure of Kate Marsh against the stale murk of the hallway behind her. The pale girl stared up at her through reddened eyes, her mouth a bloodless smear in the odd light, jerking open and shut in panicked wordless motions.
Victoria felt the venom curdle behind her drying lips in the second she studied the girl in front of her.
She made to ask what the hell was going on , but Kate had used the silence to pull herself together enough to sputter out a single word.
Max.
Victoria's eyes tracked up and over Kate's sagging shoulders and into the dark gape of the doorway across the hall. Outlines of shapes within, cast in the unsteady light of a flickering screen, as indistinct and muddied as they had been a quarter of an hour ago.
Shadow and silhouette resolved themselves into more solid forms as she stepped closer. She didn't remember moving her feet. The tile of the hallway felt cold even through her socks, and the chill stayed with her as she stepped onto the carpet of Max's room.
A noise came from behind her as she moved forward into the dark, stumbling as a foot caught and yanked a coil of blanket from the pallet on the floor into her path. It dragged the laptop with it, and the silver light of the screen swept the gloom like a beacon on its path to rest, wan and wobbling, against a pile of boxes in the far corner of the room. A black dress hung from one of them, lolling out like a tongue.
There was a snap audible over the speaker's mumble as the power cable was snatched free, falling away into the shadowed mass of blankets on the floor. The screen greyed, then blackened entirely; the lone stretch of wall following the rest of the room finally into darkness.
Victoria felt blindly for the seat of the couch at her side as she dropped to one knee, groping ahead of herself with her free hand until she felt the stiff ridge of a shoulder beneath her fingertips. She slid forward carefully until she felt her knee press against something soft, and brought her fingers up along the familiar curve of a cheek. She brushed her hand forward until she felt eyelashes against her palm.
(She tried very hard to ignore the wetness dribbling slowly down her wrist)
Victoria exhaled, pushing the heavy, oily feeling bubbling up inside of herself outward with an anxious breath. She had to be calm. Take control of the situation.
Say something.
"Kate, I need you to turn on the lights."
Her voice was as even as she could manage, something steady for Kate to hold on to while-
The overheads snapped on, bright and blinding even to eyes adjusted to the light of her vanity just a minute prior. She flinched, waiting a heartbeat for the glare to fade. Kate would be even worse off, having been in the dark for god knows how long before.. this.
At least she'd had the foresight to cover Max's eyes.
Max.
She looked down. Felt her chest seize. Felt her stomach fall away.
Be calm.
Kate wouldn't have seen. Didn't have to see.
Victoria forced a breath into her lungs- enough to try for words again.
"Kate," she said steadily, "I need you to go to my room and get something, alright?"
She shifted to the side, anything to place herself between the girl in front of her and the one behind.
Be calm.
"Inside my closet is a white case. A bit bigger than a lunchbox. I need you to find it and bring it here, okay?"
Simple instructions. Something for Kate to focus on, to keep her from seeing-
This.
Victoria heard a wordless murmur from behind herself; a sort of wet, nasal whine she took as assent or something close and then footsteps padding quickly away.
Then silence, aside from pounding rain and the grinding of teeth.
Max.
She had to think quickly.
Airway.
Victoria jammed a thumb into Max's mouth, between the warmth of her cheek and the white crush of her teeth. She cupped a hand above the nape of her stiffened neck and tugged her forward, hooking her cheek away from her jaw with the same motion. She looked down past the nest of hair against her chin and into the red soaking into the thigh of her pants.
Be calm.
No sounds of choking. No sudden draining of blood.
She leaned Max back against the seat of the couch. Swallowed her horror enough to look-
No bubbles between her teeth. No bubbles in her nostrils. No wet-sounding breaths.
No aspiration.
Victoria exhaled and forced her hands not to shake.
Airway, Breathing, Circulation.
She felt Max's heart beating underneath her fingertips. She saw her chest rise, slow and shallow. Felt thin, reedy breaths against the back of her hand.
She heard Kate digging through her closet. She still had time.
Stay calm.
Victoria looked around the room, her eyes searching for and finally finding a bottle of water on the bookshelf next to Max's window. She rose immediately, rushing forward from a sprinter's four-point to grab the half empty bottle in one hand and snatched the towel pinned over the window with the other. She doused one end with the bottle's contents and knelt on either side of Max's knees, scrubbing at her face with the soaked fabric until a pinkish bog welled up in the cloth between her fingers.
Her stomach churned.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she flipped the towel around and gingerly wiped from cheek to chin, careful to catch everything except the thin stream still spilling from Max's nose. In a perfect world she'd be able to apply pressure until the bleeding stopped, but that could push blood back into her airway and-
No.
Victoria folded the towel over again and placed it on her lap below Max's chin.
She wasn't going to lose a dangerous amount of blood within the next few minutes, and if she wasn't in a condition to stop the bleeding by then, they had bigger problems than a nosebleed anyway.
She'd done all she could do.
That's Max. Now Kate.
"Have you found it yet?" Victoria called out across the hall, schooling her voice as she did.
"No, I can't-" Kate began, her words a panicked jumble before Victoria interrupted.
"Check inside the black bag at the very bottom, next to my boots. If the case isn't there, let me know."
She'd bought enough time.
Kate ran back into the room moments later, the pale plastic kit held whiteknuckled as though the red cross on the top could ward off the scene in front of her.
"Open two of the gauze pads and hand them to me," Victoria said with more surety than she felt. She reached out with the hand that wasn't covering Max's eyes and had just enough time to hope it wasn't shaking before she felt Kate pass the pair of dressings to her.
Inhale. Exhale. Speak.
"This is a longshot, but has Max said anything to you about hemophilia?"
Direct questions. Just to make sure.
"N-no. Nothing like that," Kate said, her voice strained.
Victoria nodded and pressed the first of the gauze pads beneath Max's nose, careful to leave space enough for her to breathe.
"I didn't think so. What about epilepsy?"
She heard Kate suck in a breath, sharp.
Another no, then.
She looked to Max's hands; clenched into fists, tendons drawn tight beneath her skin like violin strings. Her neck, tensed and straining against itself.
The nauseating grind of her teeth.
Best to get it over with.
"This isn't as bad as it sounds, but Max is having a seizure."
Stay calm. You're no use to anyone if you panic.
She heard Kate whisper something quietly as she slid to the floor a foot or so away, though her naked anxiety swallowed everything except the fear in her voice.
Victoria spared a moment to slip her attention away from Max, catching Kate with her eyes after a second spent searching.
"They're not like the movies; they're only a big deal if they last more than around five minutes-"
-Not entirely true, but Kate didn't need to know that-
"- and you went to get help as soon as you noticed something was wrong, right?"
She tried to smother the little seed of panic taking root behind her heart. Felt relief, warm and heavy, when Kate nodded almost desperately in return.
Victoria didn't smile, but she visibly relaxed.
"Then it's been about three minutes, give or take. Do you have your phone?"
Simple questions.
Kate answered by reaching for her bag, pulling out an older-model smartphone after a moment of digging.
"We're calling 911 if she hasn't come out of it in two minutes, alright?" Victoria said firmly. "It almost definitely won't come to that, though."
She swallowed hard as she pressed the second pad to Max's lips. The first had overflown; she'd hidden it beside herself, just outside of Kate's view.
"She's going to be okay," Victoria said quietly, resting the cleaner of her two hands back across Max's eyes.
She saw Kate look away from Max in her periphery, glancing towards her own face briefly with an expression Victoria couldn't easily read. She turned to more fully face the other girl, watching as her head sunk into the cradle of her own hands, low enough that the heels of her palms could rest against her own closed eyes. Her lips pressed together, tense, then parted.
"What do we do?" she asked, her hands sliding exhaustedly towards her temples.
She looked about as wrecked as Victoria felt.
Victoria let her eyes unfocus as she thought, searching for answers in slivers of stories her mother had told of old patients. Checked those against what she had seen while skimming her phone last night, unable to sleep. Symptoms, signs.
- Max, dropping to her knees in a clearing in Portland not twenty four hours ago-
Victoria looked up slowly, catching Kate's eyes wandering between Max's half-covered face and the leg it rested on.
This isn't a coincidence.
Victoria's brows furrowed, her teeth clicking together audibly as she bit down on the first words she wanted to say. Too pointed. Too blunt.
She tried again.
"Were the two of you talking about anything when Max's nose started to bleed?" she asked, still more direct than she probably needed to.
Kate's eyes widened momentarily, confusion and surprise fighting their way to the surface of her expression through the dread that had dominated it before. She opened her mouth to reply but stalled, clearly conflicted. Victoria watched as her eyes tracked down to where Max laid between them, hanging in the gap there as though caught by hooks.
"I.. don't think Max would want me to talk about it, if she knew. Why do you need to know?" Kate asked quietly, one hand gripping the other tightly in her lap.
Victoria felt a flash of raw anger, quick and scorching.
"Because aside from drugs and fucking head trauma, stress and panic attacks are the most likely triggers for all of this shit. Is that enough of an explanation for you?"
Kate's eyes met Victoria's, shock and panic and shame of all things swimming in them before she could speak again.
"You can't tell anyone," Kate whispered, her voice unsteady. "You have to promise-"
Victoria snarled.
"We don't have time for this kindergarten bullshit!" she spat, already feeling her jaw begin to tighten. She forced herself to exhale, her breath leaving as a hiss despite her conscious effort to calm down.
Fucking breathe.
"I'll meet you halfway if it makes you feel any better," Victoria said harshly, her words curling in the heavy air like smoke. "When it happened yesterday, I was taking pictures while she told me about the last time she was in Portland: as a kid, with Chloe Price."
She took her hand off the soaked gauze pad long enough to rake her fingers through her hair. Anxious.
"She dropped like somebody cut her fucking strings. I thought she had an aneurysm, but when she came out of it a minute later she acted like everything was fine. Normal."
Victoria exhaled again, slower.
"Look, I swear I won't tell anyone anything you fucking say; believe it or not I give a damn about Max too. Just talk."
She raised her head, having calmed down enough she could look Kate in the eyes again.
There had been an instant of shock at Victoria's mention of this having happened before, but it was overshadowed almost immediately by a look of pure emptiness that only grew deeper the more Victoria spoke.
"You.. said you were taking pictures?" Kate asked, her voice carrying strangely in the stagnant air.
She glanced downward to where Victoria's hand rested on Max's ashen face, her voice low and unsteady despite the moment she had paused to collect herself.
"It's not right to speculate about this kind of thing, but.. " she swallowed, pawing at an eye with one hand. "But just look. Does any of this look right to you?"
Kate swept her arm across the room in a hopeless wave, spilling like a mireflood over the pinhole remains of a photo-collage above an unmade bed; the duct-taped shoeboxes buried beneath it, shrouded in old clothes and left to moulder in the dark.
"I can't just be imagining it, can I? The signs in what she says? How her pictures make her sick? That shot of you was the first time I've seen her touch a camera in a week and it looked like it killed her. I don't.."
Kate paused, her words hanging in the space between them.
One breath, then two.
Steadier.
"I think Jefferson hurt her. The same way he hurt me."
Victoria felt an icy hand bury itself in her chest. Felt her heart seize trying to beat around the skewer. Felt numbness and frostbite in the places the pain wasn't.
Then denial, hot and caustic.
"Fucking when, Marsh?" Victoria's eyes narrowed, as green as the acid in her voice. "And why would it just be starting to fuck with her now?"
Kate looked away, her gaze drifting to the crown of Max's sneered, incredulous.
"She saw a girl she had known for as long as she could walk get shot to death in front of her. That was a week ago, she was fine before then, and Mark fucking Jefferson has been in a jail cell ever since. There's no way he could have gotten his hands on her."
Victoria inhaled, glad for once of the heat her anger brought with it. It burned inside her like a furnace, boiling away the ice and uncertainty until all that remained was a restless itch.
She licked her teeth. Felt the sharpness.
Not a chance in hell.
Kate drew forward slowly, placing a careful hand on Max's forehead and combing gently through the tangled hair that had been pressed against the girl's cheeks. Her reply was quiet, muffled further by her refusal to look away from the odd dust falling from between her fingers as she worked.
"For what it's worth, I hope you're right."
Her voice was hollow. Cavernous.
Victoria felt the fire inside herself flicker as another chill sank in, gnawing inward around the edges. Watched as the strange dust settled, coming to rest like rust-colored freckles across the back of the hand pressed against Max's eyes.
A minute or so passed as the storm boiled thunderous overhead, the ribbon of scarlet from Max's nose drying dark at the edges as the stream slightened and then stilled entirely. The tension bled from her neck and wrists as smooth as melting snow, slow and sedate. She felt the rasp of lashes scrape the skin of her palm and lifted her hand away to look down into the eyes beneath them.
Bloodshot; half-vacant and clouded, but better than they had been.
Victoria leaned back, coming to rest against the edge of the couch behind her, her exhale deep as though she had been holding half a breath since she'd stepped into the dark room and seen Max. She hooked an arm beneath the brunette's shoulders and tugged her, groaning, upward; cutting her eyes quickly towards Kate and catching her staring, uncertain.
"The worst of it's over," Victoria said lowly, "but she might still be out of it for a few more minutes, depending."
Kate looked up, checking Max from head to toe as Victoria maneuvered her carefully backwards to lay against the couch. She crawled forward on her knees until she was near enough to reach out, tracing Max's cheek gingerly with the fingers of one hand.
"Oh, thank God," she muttered softly, the relief in her voice bare and unhidden.
Victoria's nose wrinkled immediately, her eyes lingering on the hand Kate had yet to move.
"Couldn't have done it without him," she sniped, her voice thick with oily sarcasm. Then she leaned inward, tracking Max's eyes as they stared unseeing out into the middle distance of the room. She spoke again, her voice softer.
"Maxine?" she called, low but clear. She saw Kate turn her head in her periphery but her focus was forward, searching Max's face for signs of awareness. No focusing of her eyes, no kneejerk protest at Victoria using her full name. She reached out, brushing the pad of her thumb quickly but carefully across Max's dark eyelashes, feeling a knot of stress unwind within her chest as Max blinked reflexively.
She placed her hands on her knees, uncaring of the reddish thumbprint she left as she turned towards Kate.
"She's not completely through it yet or she'd be bitching about her name, but she should be better soon," Victoria said, letting a little of the tension she felt drain away. She saw Kate relax somewhat and took a moment to give the smaller girl a once-over. Exhaustion written across her face plain as day, underlined by the dark circles beneath her reddened eyes. Relief in the set of her shoulders and the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Victoria spared a glance back towards Max to see if anything had changed before again looking towards Kate, speaking evenly.
"You should go wash your hands and try to find something to drink if you can. Things should be stable from here on, so there's time."
Kate's eyes flicked between Victoria and Max, uncertain and anxious.
"Are you sure? What if something happens, or if something goes wrong? I could-"
Victoria felt an eyebrow strike upward sharply.
"If something goes wrong in the next five minutes I'll come get you , Marsh," she snapped impatiently. She forced herself to exhale, some of the edge in her voice leaving with it.
"The same way you came and got me," she conceded, reluctant.
Victoria took a moment to piece her next words together, feeling strangely uncomfortable. Exposed, being watched the way she was.
"You.. did good, doing what you did."
Her lips curled in disgust at her own clumsiness, turning her face away as she stumbled over her words.
Why did shit like this have to be so hard?
She shook her head almost violently to clear it, pushing herself a handbreadth back across the floor with her feet until she felt the seat of the couch dig into her shoulders. She drug her fingers through her fringe, raking it out of her face in what she was coming to recognize as a nervous habit.
"Look," she said, meeting Kate's eyes from under the heel of her palm. "You did really fucking good just now. You did everything right and didn't panic, and.. Max is lucky to have a friend like you."
She watched as Kate's expression shifted, from concern to confusion to something so tangled she couldn't parse it through the wall of haze in her head. Still, after a few moments, it resolved into something Victoria could recognize: a sad smile. She saw Kate blink slowly; her lips beginning to part as if to speak, but she wasn't finished.
"And I'm sorry I'm such a bitch to you. You don't deserve it."
There.
At that, Kate seemed flatfooted, her mouth held open around the beginnings of a soundless word as the rest of her face bled into something that looked like embarrassed uncertainty. After a brief pause though, she spoke.
"You've.. already apologized for that, actually," she said cautiously, her head tilted a little to one side.
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's terminal," Victoria admitted, laughing through her nose though she didn't exactly know why. Nerves?
At Kate's look of alarm she clarified,
"Me being an evil bitch, I mean. I don't think there's any fixing it at this point."
Kate's expression went quickly back to an unreadable gestalt that Victoria was entirely too drained for. She sighed, shaking her head.
"Look, that was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke but to absolutely no-one's surprise I'm not fucking funny. Just.. shove off for a few minutes, clean up and maybe change your clothes, and come back with something to drink, alright? I promise I'll hold everything together here until you get back. Then we can switch."
Maybe she was being too blunt? It had been a long day; sue her.
Kate glanced between the two of them again but didn't seem willing to complain, looking less conflicted by half than she had just a minute ago.
"Alright," she conceded tiredly, heading for the door. "I'll be right back. You'll let me know if anything happens, right?"
"For god's sake fuck off , Marsh. Jesus," Victoria said, rolling her eyes aggressively, half-smiling despite the apparent harshness of her words. She glanced up, checking to make sure Kate actually understood she was joking, but all she could see before the smaller blonde stepped out of the doorway was the back of her head as she moved out of view.
Better than nothing, right?
Right?
She turned, taking another look at Max, long and slow and free of distraction.
Her skin was still ashen, pale and clammy like wax. Still, her breath was steady if not deep, and her pupils had drawn down to a more normal size compared to the yawning gape from just a few minutes earlier. She reached beside herself and found the towel she had set aside earlier, searching out the cleanest portion of the wet edge and dabbing at the drying blood above Max's lip with it, careful not to rub too violently. It came away slowly at first, then easier as it pulled in some of the water from the towel and loosened, flaking away in dark grains like wet rust.
Victoria felt relief as she saw Max's eyes start to track the motion of the towel across her face, and it redoubled a handful of seconds later at the wordless grumble she heard as the brunette pulled her head a little to one side.
"Shhh," Victoria whispered, reaching up to hold the other girl's head mostly still, "You can be a primadonna all you want when you don't look like a zombie."
Max didn't respond with words, then or in the blessedly slow period that followed. Instead she sat, still and quiet, as Victoria finished with the towel and began straightening her hair. She absently heard the door open behind her a few minutes later, shutting a beat after with a soft click-thump , the near-silent rustle of feet against carpet barely audible over the whitenoise static of the rain.
Victoria tucked a strand of Max's hair behind one ear and turned her head as Kate settled onto her knees at her side, pausing only a moment to drop a pair of storebrand waterbottles onto the couch as she did. The last bottle Kate held in front of her wordlessly, glancing between it and Victoria's surprised face.
"Go ahead, it isn't poisoned," Kate said, smiling softly. Then she paused, her smile fading as her eyes fell away from Victoria's, settling on Max and staying there. Victoria said nothing as she reached out and took the bottle, the sound of the cap twisting free only half-filling the awkward silence as Kate pulled one of Max's hands into her lap without a word.
Victoria felt the air press down on her, heavy and stifling as though she were sitting at the bottom of the bay.
She swallowed the water in her mouth, forced words out after, half surprised they didn't leave as bubbles vanishing soundlessly into the murk.
"I'm sorry."
She saw Kate's knuckles go pale, her hold on Max tightening for a moment. A heavy breath then, slow and long as she unwound, her grip loosening to cradle the hand she held in both of hers from wrist to fingertips. Kate's reply was quiet, but clear.
"It wasn't your fault."
Yes it was.
Victoria strangled the words before they could escape. Buried them under mounds of bile. Tried again.
"I could have stopped it," she said flatly, the words souring even as she spoke them. She saw Kate shift, her head lowering as she traced a line on Max's wrist with the end of one finger.
"You didn't know anything was wrong."
Victoria flinched, the sudden lash of anger stinging hot like cut skin.
"I fucking should have."
Her words were quiet, but the force of them flung her to her feet as her blood flash-boiled, the itch of a week-old wound driving her up, to move-
She made it to the door in three steps, her fingers scything around the handle as the fist of the other clenched tight-
Get to the bathroom. Jam the fucking door-
She felt a pressure around her middle; biting into her, raw, like cloth on a torn scab.
She felt arms around her waist. Felt a head press in between her shoulders; the movement of a jaw as the girl behind her spoke.
"I forgive you, Victoria," Kate said softly, the warmth of her words sinking bone-deep through her skin from so close, finding her spine and metastasizing, racing into her head and out through her heart like a cancer. Sickness boiled inside her, so hot her head spun.
I don't.
The sickness had dried her mouth. She couldn't speak-
-couldn't deny-
"Max is lucky to have a friend like you, too."
Max.
Victoria felt every muscle -every nerve- from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine clench and freeze, drawing sharp and tight under her skin like wire.
What if she hurt Max too?
She remembered the story of the frog and the scorpion. How the story ended.
"It can't be helped; it's only my nature," said the scorpion to the frog as the river swallowed them both
Horror. Claustrophobic nausea as the arms around her squeezed, trapping her in place as the door handle spun away from her fingers. She screwed her eyes shut tight, the moment of darkness stranding her inside her body with the vile roll of her stomach and the pounding in her head.
Stop.
She peeled away from where the door was supposed to be, blindly swiping toward one of the hands at her middle. She fumbled for a wrist, something soft, her fingernails-
Stop.
-her fingertips finding careful purchase as she squeezed, just a little. She held her breath, counting backward slowly as she fought to still herself before the anger won and she-
Stop.
Please.
"Please," Victoria said, sharp and thin. She felt a moment of hesitance in the arms around her, confusion or something like it, before they loosened and fell away.
"Victoria, I-" she heard Kate begin, but Victoria spoke over her, her voice an edge with no handle.
"Stop."
Kate did.
The floor rolled under her feet as she reached for the door. Her stomach lurched, but she forced the words out through the sandpaper in her mouth despite it.
"Max is going to need someone to be here for her when she wakes up. It should be you."
There was an empty moment as the words hung before Kate could bring herself to respond.
".. And what about you?" she asked, her voice heavy with concern. "Max would want you to be here too."
The nausea was overwhelming, tangling her words around her leaden tongue.
"She'll live," Victoria managed as she pulled open the door. "Just be careful. No stress."
She stole a moment to clarify, flinching internally as a cramp rocked up her middle.
"No Jefferson. "
She saw Kate wince over her shoulder and paused again, her tone shedding as much of its edge as she could manage.
"Just.. be yourself, Marsh. It'll be fine."
Whatever Kate had meant to say in response was lost as the door closed between them, leaving Victoria alone in the darkness of the hall.
Acid burned in her throat, sticking hot and slick to her tongue as her stomach heaved again. She bit down, the heat in her head spiking as another pool welled up, scalding all of her it touched.
She spat, clear strings clinging to her lips before she could bat them away with the back of her hand.
She stomped the handle of the toilet and hid her curse below the sound of rushing water.
Fucking pointless.
Her stomach had been empty before she'd come into the bathroom. The last few minutes had been a mindless exercise in self-destruction; her body lashing out against itself in an attempt to.. What? Punish her?
The stall door opened forcefully as she met it forearm-first, dragging herself to the sink with purposeful steps. She hit the faucet and cupped her hand beneath it, shoving a palmful of stale tapwater into her burning mouth a moment later. It stung, washing hot against the raw skin of her gums, but the sting brought a clarity with it she was grateful for as she slashed her eyes down to the base of the bathroom door.
A wedge, borrowed from a mopcloset and driven deep into the gap there with the heel of one foot.
A lesson learned.
She cut her eyes back down to the basin of the sink, watching the water spill down towards the drain in a frothing rush. The surge whirled up and away from it in places, caught up in its own momentum long enough to push briefly against gravity, a few lucky drops catching somewhere close to the sink's edge and holding there, for a time.
It reminded her of a fear she had when she was little; that she'd be sucked down the drain too if the plug was pulled. It had seemed so big then, and dark, but she had been small.
It looked bigger now.
She looked away, searching for an anchor. She found only the face in the mirror, blurry and haloed through the sting in her eyes. Skin blotted pinkish where it wasn't grey, washed out further in the overwhelming burn of the overheads and smeared prismatic at the corners of her vision. The eyes of her reflection were wet porcelain, the pupils as dark as the black mouth of the drain roaring below.
Her eyes caught on a drop beading at the edge, wobbling, as though unsure if it should stay or go. The sound of rushing water drowned out the pounding in her ears as she stared, tracing it as it finally broke and slid along the smooth curve beneath it. She watched, frozen, as it pulled another bead into its path, swallowing it greedily as it dropped ever faster into the black.
Would it always be like this? The path of least resistance always down?
She looked away from the mirror; below, to her shaking hands. Blood drying brown around the nails of one and streaked on the sleeve of another. Blood in her hair where she had brushed it back with wet fingers, leaving a tiger's stripe of rust where she had touched. Those were the stains she could see, but there were others. She could feel them around her, blooming like spider lilies in the places she had lingered, and the marks she had left in her wake.
Handprints, red and rotten, around the throats of everyone her arms could reach.
Even now her fingers itched, an urge to - hurt- almost overwhelming. She burned; smouldering low as the ash of a housefire, her breath slipping through the ruin like smoke.
Everything she touched.
Kate had almost died because of her.
If Max hadn't noticed something was wrong, she would have.
She remembered the shock she had felt when she had heard. The horror as the pieces fell together in the hours after the police had left and the grounds had fallen quiet with the night.
The joy, as black as it was, that Kate had hurt.
The disgust that married with it, incestuous; a cloying slurry bubbling away in her chest as she choked on her smile at the sounds coming from the room next to hers.
She was fucking wretched.
No one knew that more than her.
Everything her arms could reach.
She remembered hands around her neck; the frigid panic she had felt at first, clawing on instinct until something inside her collapsed with the pressure. The wash of emotion that came in the breathlessness after, as the world unraveled in front of her like a burnt film reel.
The fear, the relief as she'd-
She remembered the thrill of teeth against her skin, the terror-
-deeper, god-
- her toes curling as points pressed in and pulled, her pulse pounding so hard her whole body throbbed with it-
-deeper, please-
-racing so wildly she had to feel her heart beating beneath her lips, so why wouldn't she-
- please-
-Hurt me before I hurt you.
A hand reached upward, ghosting along the naked hollow of her throat. .. That was the catch though, wasn't it?
She laughed, a quiet desperate thing as the realization settled.
It was already too late.
She had slipped herself in too far, as hooked and foul as she was.
Hurting people was inevitable, either infecting them with her presence or maiming them with her removal. There wasn't an easy option left, not unless she could turn back time and-
-be there for Nate, you selfish cunt.
All she had ever needed to do was pay attention to her best friend. To have been a good person, even for a day.
Another laugh. Hopeless.
So what left was there? Pretend to be a human being and pray nobody found out she was a monster until they grew sick of her and pulled free on their own?
She smiled at the mirror and was almost surprised the glass didn't crack.
She'd never been a good actress.
Her hands slipped under the faucet and she busied herself with scrubbing them clean as she thought, the pinkish runoff in the bottom of the sinkbasin bringing her mind back around to Max.
Max.
Her anger had burned itself down to coals, and in its place boiled dread, heavy coils starting to squeeze at her the longer she stood still.
She really was a shit actress; everything she'd said to Max had been the truth. She wanted nothing more than for everything to be okay- she believed it would be, too, with time.
Max was strong; it was one of the things that came naturally to her. One of the things Victoria had to fight tooth and nail for within herself.
One of the things that fascinated her as much as it infuriated her, as pathetic as it felt to admit even inside her own head.
She meant what she'd said to Kate as well. It was just fucking pointless.
No matter how many times she said she was sorry, it wouldn't be enough. Not as long her first instinct was always to wound, to maim- no matter how sick the thought made her now, in the moments after.
She shook her head as she worked her wet fingers through her hair, not stopping until the reddish water dripped clear as it ran down her cheek.
What kind of shitty monster has a conscience?
..
She couldn't even get being a psycho right.
Her shoulders shook as her breath escaped her in a rush, unsure until the end if it had been as a sob or a laugh.
Was there really any difference?
She smiled, bitter.
Probably not.
She forced another handful of tapwater into her mouth as a plan began to take form, likely would have gagged at the coppery taste if she'd had anything left inside. Another mouthful followed quickly behind, gritting her teeth when her tongue refused to swallow. She locked eyes with her reflection again, defiant, the beginnings of a sneer twitching to life at the corners of her lips as the other girl's eyes ran in revulsion.
The water slipped down her throat, hitting her stomach like mercury, heavy and cold.
She shivered. The girl in the mirror did too.
Good.
She could bear the discomfort as long as she needed to.
Because Max needed her.
The same way Nate had.
Her fear-
- "It's only my nature," said the scorpion to the frog-
-was secondary, compared to that.
If staying meant needing to fight to be a better person, then she would do it. If it meant fighting herself, then so much the better. It was what she was best at, in the end.
The vindication she felt as she watched the realization sink in on the other side of the glass was proof enough her choice was right.
After all, who's to say how the story could have ended-
Had the scorpion only torn off its tail.
The light in Max's room was off again. She'd noticed as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, her heel aching (and newly bruised) from knocking the wedge under the door free. Her pace sped up immediately, any thought of quickly changing her clothes before returning thrown away as she scrambled towards the doorway, half-opened and dark, as rationalizations began to spool.
If something was wrong, Kate would have come to get you. She's worried, not stupid.
Breathe.
She didn't bother knocking, instead pushing the door open a few inches further and slipping inside with all the quiet authority she could manage. The room was lightless and her eyes had long lost their adjustment, but even over the rain she could hear the low current of whispers coming from deeper within. She took a step forward and paused, her composure buckling as a quiet voice made its way to her through the dark.
".. Victoria?"
All pretense left her in a wave as she moved forward, dropping to one knee as she found the foot of the couch and slid along it until she reached the source of the sound.
"The one and only," she said softly, soaking as much surety into the words as she could.
She took a moment to reach out a hand, finding and tracing Max's silhouette in the dark with gentle fingers as she spoke again.
"What's with the lights?" she asked, a bit ashamed of her own bluntness. A wordless grumble was the only answer Max was able to manage herself, but Kate's voice came from over her other shoulder after, just above a whisper.
"Headache," she said softly, her voice sympathetic. "I wasn't sure if she should take any medicine, though. I thought it would be best to wait for you to get back, just in case."
Victoria's hand paused in its path down Max's spine as she was caught flatfooted, thinking for a moment as she weighed her options. After a handful of seconds she made her decision, tugging out her phone and flicking the screen to life after tilting it away from the other two, careful not to catch either of them with the sudden glare. A few seconds later it dimmed again, sending the room back into darkness.
"Tylenol should be fine," she said evenly, the miserable little noise Max had been making fading steadily into relief over a heartbeat as Victoria spoke.
".. There should be a bottle on the desk, next to the lamp." Max offered, tossing an arm out tiredly in the direction of the far wall. Victoria heard Kate whisper something indistinct before she stood, padding across the room with a few careful steps. A second of fumbling later and the lamp flipped on with a click, the gentle glow bathing the far corner of the room in amber as Kate searched.
Victoria used the moment she had been given to look Max over for the first time since she had left the room.
It seemed that Max had taken the chance to do the same.
"You kind of look like shit," Max grumbled quietly, her eyes tracing winding trails over Victoria in the low light. By the time they made their way to her face, she was grinning weakly.
".. In a good way. Mostly."
Victoria leaned away, sliding her hand along Max's lower back until only her fingertips rested against the boneless span just above the brunette's hips. She didn't need to completely fake her indignance as her lips parted, torn between a scoff and a theatrical sneer.
"Says the girl so grunge you could plant her in the ground and grow two shitty coffee shops and a heroin overdose. An expert opinion, I'm sure."
Max's tired expression shifted as her brows rose briefly, caught speechless only for a moment before her hands relaxed in her lap and she turned to face the taller blonde, looking up at her from below her dark fringe with something vulpine in her eyes as they rapidly found focus.
"It's good to know Trainwreck Barbie still comes with a designer stick up her ass. Prada, right?"
Victoria's smile grew as Max's words hung, finding a familiar rhythm in the back-and-forth exchange she could glide comfortably along, ideas forming. She tilted her head a little to one side, showing her teeth.
"Saint Laurent, though I wouldn't expect you to be able to tell the difference. Unless you'd like a closer look?"
Max's confident grin lasted for all of a moment as the realization settled, her cheeks only just beginning to pink as Victoria smirked, leaning in close and whispering low,
"I'll model it for you, if you ask nicely."
She felt Max stiffen briefly under the tips of her fingers, her sudden inhale too subdued to be heard, though she felt it pass cool and soft along the curve of her neck. Victoria turned her head just slightly, finding the ridge of Max's ear and brushing her lips gently along it until her kiss ended, slow and subtle, in a tuft of chestnut hair.
"Now behave," Victoria whispered, glancing across the crown of Max's head towards the far side of the dimly-lit room, revelling quietly in the shiver she felt as she pulled away.
Max's stammered reply was clipped short by a pair of soft footfalls as Kate returned, a bottle of water held in one hand as she settled onto the blankets at the brunette's far side, seemingly unaware of the short but charged exchange.
Victoria watched the freckled girl flounder for a moment, her fatigue slowing her reaction as one quiet second stretched to two and then three. Then, with a huff, she reached out, taking the pair of pills Kate offered her and tossing them back only moments ahead of a rushed mouthful of water, grateful for an excuse to be without words.
She turned her head towards Victoria, glaring at her with flushed cheeks as she swallowed.
Victoria simply smiled as innocently as she could, blinking slow, enjoying the rush of color into Max's skin, pouring pink from the tips of her ears downward to vanish under the neckline of her shirt.
She took it all in greedily.
It was the best Max had looked all day.
Max rested back across the couch with one arm draped over her eyes, the other dangling off to one side, dipping her fingertips into the warm stream of blankets on the floor beneath. Her chest rose, a heavy breath filling her almost full before catching somewhere below her breast, her back arching as her toes curled tight, her hips pulling up and away from the soft cushion underneath with a groan she managed to stifle only until her lips parted, the soft hiss of air through her clenched teeth accompanied by a keening little noise high in her throat that peaked as she collapsed back downward, melting into a boneless puddle as she buried the side of her face into her pillow with a final shudder.
Victoria laid perfectly still; unblinking, unbreathing, as something electric raised goosebumps across her skin and dove deeper, racing along her spine to coil warm and writhing near her belly. Her knees locked together, pressing close as her eyes brushed along the curve of the other girl's silhouette, lingering in the places cloth had pulled free from skin below; the hem of a blouse slipped just high, baring a pale navel and paler hips, the leg of her pyjama shorts falling away from a thigh, hinting at the soft curve beneath.
.. Are there freckles there, too?
Victoria's tired mind seized for a moment, her thoughts cloudy and warm and slick, pulling free only as a giggle came off to one side, just out of sight.
Kate uncurled herself from where she lay below them both, her gaze flicking between the brunette on the couch and the rabbit tucked to her chest with equal amounts of adoration.
"You made Alice yawn, too," Kate said, her laughter audible in her voice as she spoke, running a finger gently across the rabbit in question's belly with another muted giggle.
Victoria felt a brief flash of frustration as Max turned over onto her side, tugging her shirt down over her waist as she did. It lasted only as long as it took Victoria to glance between the dozing bunny and the sleepy (but genuine) smile on Max's face as she propped her head up on one hand to watch the scene unfold.
The way Max was lying pushed her cheek up just a little, calling wrinkles into being at the corners of her eyes as she grinned sleepily, a single dimple forming in a puddle of dim light cast from the shaded lamp they had never turned off.
Not for the first time, Victoria's fingers itched for her camera.
'Not for the last time, either,' she thought exhaustedly, stifling her own yawn and tracing the moment in her head until she could see it through her closed eyes. She was in no hurry to open them again, focusing instead on the steady patter of rain against glass, the distant chorus of it as it dropped heavy and dark against the earth, from a sky colored like a hearth after the last coal had shed its glow and settled down into a bed of velvet ash, black and grey and calm.
The smell of it, slipping in through the cracked window and mingling with the rest of it all, binding with the faint citrus of hours-old tea and plucked clover from the hutch at the foot of the bed. Rolling in like a fog, settling atop a deeper scent centered on the pillow beneath her head, the blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon; faint shampoo and a human scent that sent her slowly spinning as it married with the ghost of her own fading perfume, a strange possessive thrill tingling somewhere inside her at the thought of it.
Even if she were to fall off the earth in the time it took her heart to beat again, a part of her would remain-
-right here-
-after she was gone.
Breathed in, pushed out-
Remembered.
Somewhere distant was a weight, a warmth, pressing closer, pulling tighter as she drifted in the roaring quiet. Brushing at her wrist like feathers, falling on her brow like rain. It whispered to her in the silence, a wordless murmur crashing soft against her ear like waves on the shore below the lighthouse, what remained of her rocking breathless and calm on the skin of the sea beneath, the wind swaying auburn overhead like maple leaves in autumn.
At her side the tawny sun broke, dim and gentle and low. It spoke to her in words she could not hear but felt inside her head, with a voice that smelled of storms and spoke of sleep.
CW: Language suggestive of self harm, brief description of what may resemble (but absolutely is -not-) disordered eating.
Hi again.
I'm sorry this took such a long time, especially since this much had been finished (or close to it) since early October. The chapter this was shaping up to be would have been close to sixteen thousand words or so, with around twelve thousand of that being written at the point of this posting. It was split at the point the PoV changes, which still leaves us with the second longest chapter so far (and an update on just what is going on inside Victoria's head, since we haven't been in there in a while). Not the smoothest overall, but at a certain point something becomes better than nothing, and that point was about a month ago.
Minimal spoilers, but this should be about as dark as things get for a long while in case you were worried about the angst and suffering becoming a trend. Next chapter starts warm and fuzzy and pretty much stays that way, so keep an eye out for that if you still need your fix.
Chapter 12, Forty Winks, is due optimistically in late December but more realistically towards the middle of January. If it isn't up by the time LiS's remaster releases, you are personally invited to throw rocks (e.g. angry reviews) at me until I get my life together and post it.
Thank you for reading (and wash your hands),
-alt_
