This chapter has mentions of an eating disorder, self-harm, abuse, therapy, depression, and anxiety. It is a heavier chapter that delves into the reasons why Lena is the way she is. Brit is very much present in this chapter, but it's for the sole purpose of telling the untold side of the story. I hope you all enjoy it, regardless, and the character development that is sure to follow. I love you all. 3
"When ya first met?" Sans glanced over at the human, raising a browbone in curiosity. They'd found a bench about half-way between the convenience store and the apartment and had chosen to sit long enough to talk. She nodded, raising a hand to her mouth to bite at the skin around her fingernails. "...Y' sure you're okay to tell me?" Rolling her eyes, she pulled her hand away and spat on the ground away from them, lips pulling into a frown.
"I want you to know, but talking is...difficult." He let out a sigh, the breath hissing past his teeth, and she tensed. "Sorry, I...dammit. I wish there was a way that I could just, like...tell you without having to actually tell you. I get too emotional talking..." She thrust a hand through her hair, tugging on it and mussing it even further. Feeling her distress, Sans shrugged his shoulders, glancing over at her.
"I mean, if ya can't say it, then maybe you can just show it..." She looked at him like he was crazy and he chuckled, tapping a finger against his chest. "Yer soul. If I focus my magic on it, and if you focus on what you're wantin' me to see, then I can see it...I think. Been a while since I've done it."
"My soul...? Yeah, sure, if you think it'll work. Worth a shot, I guess," she mumbled, pulling her feet up to rest on the bench in front of her, knees pressed against her chest. "Go for it, bone-boy." It amazed him just how trusting these humans were. They really had no idea that one wrong touch to their soul could kill them or, if they did, then they were stupid. 'This chick's got no reason to trust me doin' this...' She huffed a sigh and furrowed her brows at him, growing impatient, and he turned to face her.
"Y' gotta clear yer head-"
"Waaay ahead of you, it's plenty cleared out." He snorted and shook his head, holding his hand palm-out toward her.
"I'm serious. Clear your head and think about what yer wantin' to show me. It won't work otherwise." The human nodded and closed her eyes, and he was struck yet again by just how trusting she was being. "Ready?" he asked, and she was silent for a moment, before giving a slow nod of her head. "Alright... This might feel a bit weird." That warning was the last thing said as he allowed his eyesockets to fall closed, concentrating his magic into the palm of his hand. A blue fog of magic spread from his fingertips, reaching out, seeking, before finally phasing through the human's chest, reaching for her soul. When it finally connected, they both flinched, and Sans felt his mind fade into blackness as he was pulled in, deeper, deeper...
It was a shitty day. No bones about it, the stress of life had gotten to her, and she was coping poorly. She knew that, knew that she should be more mindful, but something about the rain pelting the windows and the thunder rolling in the distance just made her want to curl under a blanket and never come out. A black haze filled her chest and her head, making everything seem darker than it really was. Depression. Hopelessness. 'It's just a bad day...' she told herself, over and over and over, not stopping even as people began to file into the small meeting room. A long table was set up in the center, with chairs surrounding it. She sat in one of the far corners, piece of paper spread out on the table in front of her, pencil clenched tightly in her hand. The strokes of graphite against paper were rough, hard, frenzied as she began to fall into her emotion mind. 'Calm down, just breathe. In, out... In, out...'
No matter how many times she went, she could never fully adjust to group therapy. The faces changed frequently, and she didn't much care for change. Every Friday, every week, for months, and for what? Nothing had changed, not inside herself, where it counted. She pulled up a smile easily and greeted people as they came in, faltering slightly when she saw a new face.
The first thing her eyes went to was the chest, ample breasts, jealousy, she told herself it didn't matter. It really does, though. The newcomer was a curvy girl, chubby, adorable, she thought. A ginger. 'Insert a joke about her not having a soul here,' she mused, eyes roaming over her figure, taking in her details, her traits, her face. The new girl's eyes were green, much like her own, and she had auburn hair, a beautiful mix of red and copper that made it shine under the fluorescent lights. She took note of the smile on the girl's face, and it looked okay. Not natural, she thought to herself, watching as the other girl's hands clenched and relaxed into the fabric of her sweater. 'Must not be too confident about her body.' Her clothing was baggy and loose, and it covered as much skin as possible. Long pants and sleeves. Brit wondered if it was because she had things to hide. Her own eyes glanced down to her forearms, a wry smile tugging at her lips, and she tore her eyes away as the session began.
"My name's Leannán O'Brennike. I-I'm a college student, just about to start my second year. My dream is to be a teacher!" Her voice was soft, a slight tremor in the beginning, but as she began to talk about something she was passionate about, her words came easier. Brit couldn't help but love just how beautiful she sounded when she talked about something she loved. She realized she was staring, and quickly glanced back down at her paper. The pencil had trailed off long ago, leaving a faint mark across the page and the surface of the table. Shit.
The new girl sat down in the only available seat, which, of course, was next to Brit. They exchanged a short smile as they scooted away from one another and the lead therapist began talking. The lesson wasn't remarkable, but she paid attention regardless. Her pencil continued its work in her sketching, multitasking helping her brain to focus more. As everyone in the room gave their "seven day check-in", as they called it, Brit noticed how little Lena actually talked. When it came to be her turn, the redhead glanced down at the table nervously.
"Oh, um... It was alright."
"Try being more expressive. Did you feel any emotions this last week? What prompted them? What did you feel about them?" The therapist's words were kind, but Lena seemed to feel even more uncomfortable.
"Um... W-well, I got to watch a movie this last weekend, and I liked it. And... I'm...sorry," she paused suddenly, fingers tapping against her thighs as she gave a tense smile to the table. "I can't really think of anything..."
Anxiety, Brit wondered, watching the body language that she'd come to know so well. Lena pulled one of her pigtails over her shoulder and began combing her fingers through it slowly, methodically. Anxiety confirmed.
"Well, that's good! Positive emotions are good...but we also like to talk about so-called "negative" emotions, too. They're only natural, and we all experience them," the therapist said calmly, their eyes also watching the redhead closely, as Brit was doing.
"Sorry, I just...don't really know how to express them, I guess..." she mumbled, voice soft, and Brit felt a small ache in her chest as she realized something all too obvious. 'Looks like she wasn't ever allowed to express herself without being minimized either.'
Break came and everyone got up and left the room, most of the group being smokers who spent the fifteen minutes outside. Even in the rain, a nicotine addict needed their fix. Brit snorted as a couple of them bitched loudly about the rain on their way out. The only people left in the room was her and the new girl. Socialization wasn't something she was feeling up for, so she kept quiet, staring down at her paper as she continued to doodle. 'Looks like shit,' she thought bitterly, shoving the paper aside and grabbing a clean white page from the stack next to her, beginning again.
"Wow, you're a really great artist!" The voice was so sudden that it startled her slightly, and Brit glanced over to see that Lena had grabbed the page and was looking over it, eyes wide with admiration.
"Nah, it's actually kinda shitty. You should see my bro's stuff, he's great!" A smile and a laugh, but Lena frowned at her softly, thick auburn brows furrowing.
"Well, I think this is really good," she said, her green eyes returning to glance over the drawing. A tree with a hollow trunk, a hole just big enough to see through, with a child reading inside. It had been a mindfulness exercise gone wrong, in Brit's mind, and she intended to trash it as soon as she had to get up. But moving more than necessary wasn't her game. "Can...can I keep it?" the redhead asked shyly, holding the paper close to her chest. Uncomfortable. Brit shrugged and muttered a quiet 'I guess', and the smile that spread across the freckled girl's face was genuine and bright. "Thank you!"
"No prob..." 'Weirdo. Why's she so nice? What's she after?' The group returned and the session went as normal. Just before the therapist dismissed them, they stood at the head of the table and smiled brightly.
"We're going to be doing a bit of a project. I've gone ahead and paired you all up, and you're going to exchange phone numbers before we leave. I want to encourage you all to send each other affirmations throughout the day. Help each other out by becoming aware of positives in your daily lives. Share as much or as little as you feel comfortable." A few glances shared between everyone at the table, and then the slow murmur of conversation as people began to do what they'd been asked. Brit quickly scribbled down her number and slid it across to Lena before gathering her things and standing.
"Sorry, I gotta head out now. Babysitter can't stay with my kids forever!" She flashed a smile and headed out to her beat up minivan, throwing her belongings into the passenger seat and climbing in afterward.
"Wait!" A voice stopped her, and she paused just as she was about to close her driver's side door. Lena was jogging after her, and Brit forced herself to keep her eyes above the other girl's neck. "I-I um, I don't know what you want to be called..." she said shyly, holding her phone out. 'Been hoping I could avoid this awkward encounter...' Trading cell phone numbers was always awkward, made her uncomfortable. Forcing herself into pleasant conversation with someone she only just met was something she could do easily, but the joy was forced.
"Sure, no prob." Taking the phone carefully, she went ahead and typed in 'Brit' for the contact name, taking the liberty to send herself a text from Lena's phone. The faint chime of her own phone vibrated from her back pocket, and she handed the phone back. "I gotta get going. I'll text you tomorrow," she said, ignoring how brisk she probably sounded and waited until the other girl moved aside so she could close her door.
The drive home was longer than necessary, because she spent some time aimlessly driving, her mind busy, full, too full, anxious. Why did she have to get paired with the new person? Why not someone else? She was already dreading having to text her, and it wasn't even happening yet. 'This week's gonna suck...'
You're doing a great job today!
Good job getting out of bed!
Good job eating something!
Good job drinking water instead of soda!
That was how the week went. The text messages were all very impersonal, all very detached, all very typical. Wednesday. A bad day. Brit found herself in a pitfall of emotion, negative thoughts, urges, actions, regrets, more actions, deeper regrets.
| Lena: Are you okay? You haven't been texting much today... |
Who cares? Why did she care? She's just doing it because she has to. Not important. No one cares. No one cares. No one-
| Lena: I know you don't know me very well, but if you ever need someone to talk to then I will. |
| Lena: Us girls gotta stick together, right? |
She broke down. Tears, a frenzy of fingertips against the glass screen of her phone, negative emotions pouring from her words and into the text. She hadn't meant to, or maybe she had, but she'd vented to this stranger who spoke so kindly. She expected the worst. 'She'll tell me not to text her again. She regrets asking me. She's gonna avoid me at group now. I fucked up. She hates me. I hate me-'
| Lena: You're doing your best and that's enough. |
| Lena: You're you and you're enough, and you're important. |
| Lena: People love you so much and care about you. I care about you. |
| Lena: Is that weird..? I know we only just met, but I care a lot about you. |
Is this girl stupid? What is she thinking? Why would she care about someone like me?
| Lena: That's just how I am. |
An urge, powerful. Protect. Protect the person who's stupid enough to care about people she doesn't know. Protect her from being hurt. Pure heart doesn't deserve to feel the pain of betrayal. Protect it. Protect her. Protect, protect, protect-
| Brit: Wow that was so gay. |
A watery smile through her tears as she reads the flustered text message she got in response. This was the beginning of something good, she just knew it. And, for once, she allowed herself to believe it.
They were friends, had been since the first moment, Lena said. Brit wasn't so sure, but arguing wasn't really worth it. It was a nice thought, at any rate.
Friday comes and goes, with no sign of Lena. Worried, she texts the redhead, asking where she was. No response. For hours, she waits, checking her phone constantly, wondering, worrying, waiting. Eventually, a message. Her phone buzzes loudly in her pocket and she's quick to pull it out, checking it immediately.
| Lena: Sorry I didn't show up at group today. Really tired today. |
Tired. Code. Something was up. Brit glanced at her children, sitting at the table eating (playing with) spaghetti and dove into conversation.
| Brit: What's up? Party too hardy last night? |
| Lena: Heheh no. Just tired I guess. |
| Brit: Is it tired or is that what word you feel okay using for it? |
No response for a while. Hit the nail on the head, she knew it.
| Lena: I got into an argument with my parents today... |
| Lena: They were talking about monsters in a mean way and I tried to stand up for them. |
| Lena: They didn't like that... |
| Brit: I know I've said it before but fuck your parents. |
| Brit: Wanna go out tonight? Jordan's home so he'll watch the kids. |
| Lena: I really need to get this paper done... |
| Brit: You're almost done with it. We're going out. |
| Brit: Meet up here and I'll drive us. |
Drinking was going to be a thing that happened. Not that she had an addiction, but she loved the feeling of being loose and free, that only alcohol could seem to give. She was going to get to the bottom of this whether Lena liked it or not. 'I'm a terrible person.'
The restaurant wasn't fancy, just a typical mexican restaurant. Huge bowl of queso in the middle of the table, fajita meat sizzling loudly from the hotplate next to it. Not much had been eaten because she'd been far too busy drinking. How many margaritas had they had? She couldn't remember. The pitcher she ordered was empty, and they both had a couple more...who gives a shit?
"We were out at the store, and there was this...this monster. He looked like a wolf, and there was this cold..aura? Coming off of his fur. It was really cool. My parents were talking down to him, even though he's way taller than them! And they just...when he started getting angry at the things they were saying, they yelled at him to go back where he came from. I'm like, seriously?!" The redhead was sitting across from her, a frown pulling down at her lips, freckles lost in a flush of red across her cheeks. "I told them to stop, and they...th-they yelled at me. Told me to shut up, a-and my mom slapped me, right in front of everyone. Said they didn't raise me to be a monster-loving heathen..."
"You oughta just tell them to fuck off."
"I can't!" she wailed, stabbing at a few strips of chicken and peppers from the hot plate and jamming it into her mouth. After she'd chewed and swallowed, she continued, raising a hand to rub at her eyes, which were already watering. "I... Anytime I start getting upset by anything, they tell me I'm being unreasonable. They'll ask me if I'm on my period, or if I've been drinking or doing drugs. I've never done drugs except for this one time I smoked pot." Brit's eyes narrowed dangerously, anger bubbling in her belly and swirling with the alcohol.
"Minimizing what you feel. What pieces of shit. I hate them."
"No, no, they... They're good people...sometimes. And they're paying for my schooling, because my dad's a professor. A-and they let me stay at home..." She sighed and raised a hand to rub at her cheek which, Brit could notice now, had a faint bruise on it. Her anger flourished.
"Fuck them! Move in with me!" Green eyes widened across from her, and she simply pushed on, determined. "Yeah, forget all their bullshit and move in with us. We'll treat you better than they ever did. Them and their favoritism-loving asses can burn!" She was getting loud, she knew, but that's what happened when she drank. How were they going to get home again?
"I-I can't. You have enough on your plate, and two kids..."
"Fuck that, you're moving in. I want to help you. Let me help you."
"B-but I can't! I...I-I can't..." She started crying, shoulders trembling with little hiccuping sobs, and Brit reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it fiercely.
"Please... I love you so fucking much, just let me help. After all the shit you've done for me, it's the least I can do." There was hesitation, palpable, tangible in the air between them, and when watery green eyes finally looked up to meet hers, it was done.
She nodded, and Brit released a sigh of relief.
Angry phone calls from parents who didn't deserve the title. Lena spent most of that time away from her phone, curling up on the couch with a movie. A drunken mistake? Nah, no way. Helping someone you love is just the way she was raised. After a few weeks living together, Brit began to notice things. Like how she'd skip out of snack time with her and the kids, or she'd take less of a portion at dinner. Skipping breakfast because she was 'in a hurry', though she didn't join them even on the weekends when Brit made breakfast. Concern. Worry. She brought it up and Lena's expression became taut, the smile false.
"Don't worry about it, I'm just on a diet."
Days pass, less food, less sleep. A hot day playing outside with the kids. Brit chased her children around with the hose, spraying them down, when she heard the door open on the deck. She turned and froze as she saw the pale figure standing in the doorway. Skin white as a sheet, freckles standing out as strongly as stars in the sky, reversed. She clung to the door frame, hands trembling, legs weak, just seconds before she collapsed. Panic. Blind, unfiltered panic. Brit pulled out her phone and called her neighbor, asking them to come over so she could take her friend to the hospital.
A long, silent drive. Hot tears dripping down her cheeks. Cursing, yelling at an unconscious body. "Why didn't you tell me?! Why?! Why did you do this to yourself?!" Sobbing. Swerving between cars, rushing. Their arrival at the hospital was all a blur. A stretcher was brought out, her friend loaded up on it and taken away. Questions. So many questions, none of which she knew the answer to. Telling them what little she knew.
The diagnosis. Malnutrition. Self-imposed. Suggested therapy treatments, medications. They wanted to call her parents. Brit screamed and told them no. She was there, she was all she needed right then. Her parents could learn later. Later. At her bedside, she collapsed into a chair and held her unconscious friend's hand, mindful of the IV pumping valuable nutrients into her blood, providing for her what she denied herself. Turning her hand over, she caught sight of a red mark. Her mind went blank, anxiety gripping her. She gripped the bedrail, crying into her hand. A nurse came to ask if she was okay, she said she was.
Because that's just how they were.
Home at last, Lena spent most of her time in her room. Brit yelled at her a lot when she didn't want to eat, made her cry. As soon as she left her friend's room, she'd cry, too. Pain was shared when you loved someone enough. After a while, she got her to talk.
She'd gone back to visit her family at their home, and one of her sisters told her she looked like she'd been gaining weight. Brit wanted to punch the teeth in of every single family member. Lena admitted to holding herself back, not using her skills therapy had taught the both of them. "I'll help you," Brit demanded, and Lena hadn't the heart to tell her that she couldn't. Brit knew that. She said the same thing all the time.
Recovery. For both of them. They laughed and played together with the children. Lena got a job she loved, and her contact with her family was minimal. Bad days came and went, but that was life. They dealt with them together.
A flurry of moments, too jumbled to discern from the other. Most of them happy, some sad, all vivid and bright. Teasing text messages, talk of 'boning' someone they knew, a laugh. Plans to buy skull-themed underwear for her friend. All in good laughs.
| Lena: Level 10. |
A lurch in her chest, and she was moving, mind racing with only one goal in mind: protect her. The arrival at her apartment, panic when she saw the door was hanging open, assuming the worst. A soft orange light from her bedroom, finding her being comforted. Relief. Immense relief. Lena lunged at her and she caught her, holding her tightly and shushing her softly, trying to soothe her. Her barking an order at the lanky skeleton, sending him away, waiting for the door to close. They both were. Wails and cries painful to even hear, heart-wrenching. 'Can't cry now,' she told herself, 'She needs me now.'
She was angry when she was told what had happened, but pushed it aside, shoved it down, focusing solely on Lena. Soothing her. Undressed them and got in the shower, water running hot, soothing aching muscles. Her friend wept as she washed her hair and held her close. Maybe strange for other people, but for them, it was natural. They were sisters without blood. Sisters by bond. By love. Gentle reminders, soft voices, soothing words. Brit ran her fingers through auburn hair and across her scalp to calm her. The crying lessened after however long. Minutes? Hours? Days? It felt like eternity listening to her in such agony.
A text to Papyrus, telling them to come. Nervousness. Gotta get Sans alone. How? How? How?
'I want him to know. I want him to know how to protect her. Take care of her. Love her.'
The two of them pulled apart with a gasp, the human from the strange feeling of having her soul invaded, Sans from the intensity of what he'd just seen. It was imperfect, little snippets of memories and thoughts flashing behind his eyes, but it was there. He'd seen it all. His soul ached in his chest and he breathed a shuddering sigh. "Shit..." The human was crying again, a hand covering her mouth to try and silence the sounds, though there was very little. It was no wonder she had such a difficulty telling him. How could you explain something that was so painful? He could feel it, the fresh, hot waves of pain that even thinking about those things surfaced in her soul. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and gave him a weak smile and a laugh, and he smiled sadly.
At least now he understood.
The walk back to the apartment was silent, because what else was there to say after that? Once they got in the front door Brit froze, giggling quietly and holding a finger to her lips while her other hand pointed at the couch. Lena was curled into the pillow against the skeleton's chest, asleep. Sans only felt a small spike of jealousy, pushing it aside when Papyrus turned his skull to look at them. His expression told them loud and clear that they took far too long, but he didn't speak, not wanting to disturb the human asleep in his arms. Brit leaned over the back of the couch and brushed a lock of hair behind the girl's ear gingerly, the look on her face pure adoration and love. Then she stood, stretching her arms over her head and giving a small grunt.
"I'm gonna take her bed until she wakes up. You boys are free to stay here." Trust, Sans knew, was within that statement, and he felt more flattered by it than he probably should have. Mutterings of 'goodnight', and the closing of a door, and Sans sighed. His brother gave him a questioning look, but he waved it off. It was probably best to keep this to himself for now, until the situation called for it. He reached into the plastic bag and held out one of the bottles of chocolate milk, chuckling at the larger skeleton's gleeful expression as he twisted the plastic cap off and drank it. He put the entire bag into the fridge and sat next to Lena, reaching out and taking her hand in his own. She stirred slightly, just a little, before she laid still again, and his soul thrummed in adoration.
Anger toward those who hurt her could come later. There would be plenty of time for that. For now, his place was there, holding her hand as she stumbled through the bullshit that life threw her way. Supporting her silently, until she asked for anything more. His hand tightened around hers subconsciously and he closed his eyes, feeling the ripples of her soul's aura caressing him in the short distance between.