Safe Haven.
Hello hello! This is my first ever completed
one-shot so please be forgiving! However do not let that notion hold you back in giving me some advice, I would love to hear your thoughts on this so I can take the necessary steps to improve! Thank you and enjoy!
Ah yes, dreams. They are such a fickle trick of the mind yet perceived to many as a wonderful gift granted by the sandman. A trip outside of your body into a land concocted by anything your mind can imagine up. Some are filled with heroic supervillain takedown action! Other's filled with a serenity that matches a peaceful monk's aura. Or maybe it's too quiet for a bubbly person like you so yours are full of sugary delights and prancing unicorns.
And all that can be possible thanks to self-fulfilling feelings felt during hypnagogia. Granting whimsical experiences to every man, woman, and child.
Sure! Everything is neat when you are up on your high horse, but take a particular child. Oh... I don't know... say an African-American French girl opening the entryway to her home emotionally deflated. Returning home for what she perceived to be just a normal day.. oh how wrong she was. Instead she and her team were ordered around on a wild goose chase searching for every last item from their past adventures their grubby little mitts could get a hold of. Of course, it ended in a victory, but... it didn't feel like it. Not one bit... as one particular teammate left them.
In the past few hours since she entered her house she was: Too frightful to speak more than a sentence or dare use third person while at a packed dinner table of four.
Overthinking the smallest plausible mistake that could jeopardize everything she fought to keep safe while nervously nibbling on green beans. Keeping a mask of surefire assurance that her day went smoothly, even though lying through her teeth impaled her self-esteem deeper on its stake.
Dread settling itself within her abdomen as she washes what was left of the mash potatoes on her plate. Never really caring to snarl or bite back to her elder sister's sass, only apathetically uttering a "Sure- sure.. whateva.".
Almost sounding like Nigel himself when running on 3 hours of sleep which is sort of ironic as Abby herself got ready for bed.
Almost. She thought as Abby tucks herself underneath verdant covers. She isn't that paranoid.
Or is she?
See when negative emotions culminate together into what is akin to witnessing a swarm of blood sucking mosquitoes cascade to your flesh they create such a dastardly thing that turns a safe haven into a nightmare.
Or worse...
Not a few hours in her doze the raven haired girl awoke straining a gasp. Wishing her body to sit upright, but such a thing never came to be. Stuck in a sprawled position lying vulnerably on her back, comforter still encasing the poor African-American girl in an uncomfortable warmth. Yet this warmth didn't feel safe, the total opposite of safe it felt threatening, each prick of a nonexistent needle poking at her fingertips fueled this paranoia brewing inside her. The only thing that classifies as a break from abnormality in this bizarre situation is the boiler system kicking in. Noting how dangerously sharp her ears manage to pick up creaks of the AC behind paper thin walls.
Somethin' is wrong, girl. So.. so wrong.
Panic rising, but keeping her chin held high Numbuh 5 attempts to wiggle her fingers. Expecting for them to follow her orders, yet no matter how much she tries to force it, not even her index could bend at her very whim.
Apprehension prior to washing up Mom's china set came back tenfold and this slithering mental cobra isn't so merciful with its prey.
This newfound feeling of losing sense of touch feeds the terror inspired quake inside her stomach. Abby's strength to move a muscle momentarily diminishes her plan of escaping and if she wasn't mistaken her newfound hope of leaving quickly as she awoke all burnt out like a dry wick during a dastardly winter storm.
Here she is still.
No hope to move or to stop this irritating numbness.
Heck, she couldn't move her lips and give her opinion on the matter. All she had were thoughts of a finicky shell trying to dispel what sorcery revoked her ability to move.
Was it cause of the funky vegetables I ate? Or was it some sort of energy drainin' side effect similar ta broccoli?
If Numbuh 5 could, she'd dismissively shake her head.
No. Can't be it. It didn't smell off… Though Mama probably overcooked it just a little.
Then an unthinkable thought rises.
Did Cree have something to do with this? Putting whatever it is inside her food while she wasn't paying attention?
Abby's breathing begins to quicken.
But- But that can't be right, we have a truce when food is served. Last time Abby fought her sister it destroyed most of the kitchen! We were grounded for a month and from that day forth we both learned our lesson and agreed to put on an act! So despite the obvious, why does it feel... so wrong?
"Wrong...? W-We thought you knew what was right..."
Time froze instantly, wind caught inside her throat at this unexpected reply from an unwelcoming newcomer. The bewildered girl couldn't even hear the boiler downstairs clank or churn anymore. It's as if she went completely deaf yet somehow a voice from beyond manages to respond to her exact thoughts. Reading her mind like an open paged book on a calm evening..
If only she wishes her mind could be calm.
Instead it began piling up multitudes of uncertainty in her unknown predicament.
One thing is for certain when sifting through her rushed thoughts…
She knows that voice almost painstakingly well.
All she could do is fervently glance about the room for anything that looked out of place amongst a sea of darkness. Abby didn't know why, but deep down she knew if she didn't then it would be her doom. Desiring to find where that familiar voice hid and get to the bottom of this.
Who.. what?
Her train of thought cut off as an iridescent golden glow emanates at the foot of her bed, where the low light dims out a shape of what only caused her to choke in horror. There morphed and sewn together by fungal biomass and newfound root systems into a mossy abomination lies her teammate.. Now she knew where the voice came from.
Widened eyes met sunken ones of her dear tech savvy friend. Aviator cap gone and replaced with plant-like tendrils that wrapped around the side of his head like a thorny bandage, his polo shirt matted and torn by tiny pointed needles, smothered in an orange mist obscuring the vines that hung from her wall. A crooked smile forms on his deathly pale face.
"What's the matter Abby? C-Cat got your tongue...?"
What was left of Hoagie gargles out.
Pupils dilate at the choir of gurgling greenish silhouettes blocking her bedroom door. She could've sworn they were laughing alongside him.
At least it's what Abby can deduce given the minimal amount of light.
Wait.. if he said 'we' then that could…
No... No no no! If there are others then that means…
This aforementioned glow began to trail alongside what could be described as grimey and dry tree roots that dug inside her wallpaper. Making her quarters look like an animal enclosure infected with a nasty outer world disease.
Abby got a good look at the others which were trapped.
She wished she never thought about it…
Grotesquely morphed to Hoagie's torso by crusty mushroom caps is none other than Wally, whose speaking ability is painfully revoked as those dastardly roots covers his mouth, ghoulishly white skin compliments the tiny crimson puncture wounds poked by sharp stems that wrap around him and the rest of his teammates them all like a cocoon, its very scent beckoning forth a vulture their meal by luring it in with a nasty cheesy smell. Last is Kuki, who has been unceremoniously squashed by the poor Australian boy, she too wasn't safe from this leafy menace as her eyes were overcome by a fungal growth, looking more dehydrated and withered than the rest of Sector V.
All of them were unwillingly glued to her bedroom door by this bloodthirsty plantlife.
Numbuh 5 couldn't describe how her heart breaks piece-by-piece seeing her beloved friends being succumbed by Mother Nature.
No.. No no no no no! No!
This- This must be a coma dream! It- It musta been those green beans!
Yeah… Yeah! Abby swears it! A- And when I get my hands on the girl who did this to- Before she could finish, a resounding guttural screech from this beast had her full attention once more.
"G-Girl? Don't be so naïve Numbuh 5..." Hoagie loosely rolls his head to the side.
What are you talkin' about? Abigail heaves out an exhale, her chest tightening.
"The only one who did this... is you." He squints down at her, his voice uncharacteristically lowers.
This didn't come without a price, as when he put pressure on his trachea darkish orange liquid forced its way to peek out of his mouth.
Almost with properties akin to honey...
If Abby could curl her toes in disgust, she would.
Silence overtook the mortified girl as she took a moment to process his words, exhausted gears begin turning in her head, trying to fathom how and where it all led up to them becoming this way.
"Well.. if you must ask…" Hoagie began for her. Gravely and disappointed.
"Th-This all started because of a mission we took that was way out of our league... Entering the darkest pits of an abandoned broccoli mine which w-was in its early stages of becoming a secret laboratory... H-Handcrafted carefully by Father himself... Who began to invest in ways that could manipulate vegetables to grow faster. Unbeknownst to him we had a mole watching his every move and when time came to s-strike. You blatantly ignored calling for backup when we were outnumbered... Too absorbed in your inferiority to lead.. to mend a wrong.. to find Father.. to live up to Nigel's last w-wish! We didn't even last an hour and we only have you to thank for that.." The brunette angrily spits out. Hacking up a lung.
Me...? I- I did this...? Unshed tears prick at her eyes.
"Who else failed to protect another friend after getting promoted to being the new head hancho...?" Hoagie growls out. "A friend who wishes to give you his regards."
Fear strikes deeply within her soul, raising her brows in shock.
Appalled at his unwarranted sentence.
Who in the heck would Abby fail to-
Then it clicked. As if figuring out a troublesome jigsaw puzzle, she noticed one of her friends missing from their prison.
One she thought was light years away from them all, never to see them or the dawn of day again.
But after what a haggard Numbuh 2 implied…
Oooh.. Oooh no boy. No no no..! You gotta be fooling! Numbuh 5 protests, but got her unsettling answer as a few slick droplets of what looks to her to be oil pours down from her ceiling.
"Oh we aren't fooling around.. because this is the r-real deal..." They all spoke in unison akin to a hive minded villain, only Numbuh 4 sounded like a dying rat when trying to follow along with his comrades.
Following the trail of slime, she found her pupils gazing up at another patch of moss that shimmered a bright hue the likes of which latches onto his worn down turtleneck. Shrunken pupils hidden behind cracked sunglasses stare unsettlingly down at Numbuh 5. A gaping maw producing raindrops of.. whatever this orange oil sheen was.. dripped down onto her face causing Abby to inwardly gag.
The source of where this mucus came from.. well she'd have to point fingers at a garden of multiple dotted shrooms latched around the British boy's throat in an iron grip.
Numbuh 1 dangles above his mortified teammate, thanks to the multitude of fleshy fungal vines that hang his upper body by his torso.
Never agreeing to be trapped isolated on her roof.
Miraculously the slump figure of her previous Sector leader sprang to life! Fury the likes of which only to be seen by Moonbase's Head of Decommissioning burns brightly in the Brit's cloudy corneas. Lurching and clawing his hands at a defenseless Numbuh 5, predator-like screeching piercing Abby's eardrums.
NO! This ain't real! This. ain't. REAL! Numbuh 5 tries in a last ditch attempt to move away from his gnashing maw only to be betrayed with a barrage of prickly pokes. His rage induced swings only hastening the descent of nasty frothing saliva from not only his jaw but the abundance of compact holes produced from fungal caps attached to his neck. The hands that belong to Nigel Uno try desperately to attack Abby with each pull causing the vines wrapping his wrist to strain.
"Oh but it is. If you don't want to believe it, then it seems like y-you need a reality check!"
The last thing Numbuh 5 expected out of Nigel is his growling screeching to a halt. Fresh commands input itself inside his skull and without further delay he holds his boney arms outwards, aiming a flexible birch which spirals down his sleeved bicep and launches itself off Nigel's wrist.
Making a mad dash for Abby's throat.
Before she could even comprehend whatever this thing was it successfully latched onto her throat, cutting off her trachea from valuable air supply. Thorns began poking at her cheek as this fungal stem wormed its way up her face, preventing Abby from screaming by covering her mouth, then up her nose effectively cutting off what was left of her oxygen. Slowly it began to suffocate her with the last thing she saw before fading into obscurity being the wicked eyes of her dearly departed friends..
Lungs desperately pleading for a breath of savory air forcefully commanding her body to try and fight back.
Squirm around until she can break free somehow.
Anything!
Yet as her respiratory system began to cave in itself due to lack of O2 being pumped in made her doubt.
Heck she couldn't even budge her own digits to close or open her lips to scream. Wracking her brain to divert its focus on something else, yet without proper blood flow, it felt like a nurse horribly messing up her anesthesia dosage at a dentist visit. Numbing her entire being so she couldn't move.
Wishful thinking proposed the idea of possibly being in a hospital as a last resort, but knowing that she didn't damage anything physically steeped her mind lower into an unsettling depression.
Abby began to feel lightheaded.. dizzy even..
Her struggle ceases as she slowly begins to realize how pointless it is to fight something she couldn't even lift a finger to.
Maybe they were right...
This is it...
She probably deserves this…
Maybe…
Maybe she isn't that good of a friend she thought she was…
THUD
A deep inhale resonates throughout her bedroom, hanging her mouth agape as sweet sweet oxygen breaches into her lungs. Inflating her respiratory system with all that could be perceived inside pink sacs until she was forced to exhale.
Ragged intakes of O2 satisfied a once deprived child, yet it greatly overwhelmed her at how plentiful.
Abby's weighted blanket clung to her clammy skin. Hands firmly planting their sweaty palms on the floorboard.
Unshed tears began to trickle down her mocha-colored skin like a gentle stream.
Wait…
Wait just a sec...
Her hands...
They- They moved!
Abby curiously lifts her open hands, the pins and needles faint, but not as oppressive as before. She gasps out a shaky smile…
Then it hit her.
Everything that happened, everything that could be, everything dumb that she did inside her dream.. or whatever it was..
All of those emotions hit her like a freight train and her once joyous expression flattens into a frown.
Slowly the little girl began to try what she did an hour ago..
Bend her index finger.
Hesitation halts poor Abby from doing it, but with a tentative breath she wills it...
And it doesn't bend.
Her heart pounding like a drum inside her ribcage, she could distinctly hear her ears pop like a balloon, a faint ringing following suite to its blast.
Never hearing her door slam open, an aggravated Cree standing in the doorway.
"Girl do you have any idea what time it is?!" She barks out. "Your butt better have an excuse before it gets kicked, Crabigail!" The Teen Ninja smacks her fisted knuckles against her palm, signifying a threat.
Silence.
Not a peep or squeak emerges from Abby.
Baffled from the lack of a retort, the elder Lincoln wandered her tired eyes down to her stunned sister. Astonished at how unresponsive she is. Normally she'd hiss back with a witty retort, but now?
Here?
Abigail is seemingly more focused on her violently shaking hands than Cree's intimidating remark.
Come to think of it, this is the same exact treatment she got at dinner. And even after each morsel was wolfed down and both girls were tasked with cleaning up the table. Abby proceeds to wander further down la la land.
It is here and now where the silence got unnerving. Recognizing clear as day that dear ol' Abby is in the throes of a panic.
Dim moonlight complimented uncannily well with her glossy eyes, so focused on her appendages that she didn't notice a frenemy taking few careful steps into her room.
Cree may be an arch enemy to Abby, but she's still her sister.
Witnessing her tiny body wracking with grief and terror genuinely surprised the teenager.
"Abby…? Girl…? Can you hear me?" Cree drawls out. Carefully approaching her shivering sister, taking pride in the small strides she took towards her.
That was until a creak from the wooden panels set her little sister off, whimpering loudly at the sudden noise.
Never in her life did Cree ever thought Abby would be brought back to being as emotionally vulnerable as a toddler. Or be stunted in such a way where anything or anyone that made a peep she automatically perceives as a threat.
Instead of standing up to fight, she hunches herself lower to the ground. Signifying that whatever got her so spooked she didn't dare square up to. Cree felt her chest twist whenever Abigail's weeping wracks her entire frame.
"Shhh.. shhh. It's just me, it's just me." Cree coos out, prompting Abby to violently whip her head over her shoulder to peer up at the towering figure. Frantic pupils dance over the Teen Ninja's second-in-command.
Registering her delicate tone akin to that of a soothing mother, the quavering girl involuntarily halts her keening.
Nearing Abby, Cree kneels down to her eye level, reaching a hand out toward the half bundled girl. Numbuh 5 couldn't manage to cower as Cree gently shushes her, bringing comfort to Abby's pacing heart, reminding the poor child of a simpler time.
It's obvious her little sister is stuck inside her own head, what not with her trembling demeanor, quickened breathing, and heartbreaking mewls.
"Abigail. Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up." Cree prepares, holding up two fingers.
Squinting through bulbous tears, she could make out fuzzy shapes forming in the shape of a: "T-Two..." Abby croaks out.
"Good." The eldest encourages with a soft smile. Shifting to sit on her rump, she then lifts up another set of three fingers with her other hand. "How many now?"
The little girl began blinking rapidly, forming a tirade of rivulets cascading down her cheeks. Abigail could distinctly process the newer cylindrical figures and respond weakly. "F-Five...?"
"Atta girl. Now list out three things you can touch." To demonstrate Cree places the back of her hand against Abigail's.
Her hand chilly to the touch causes Abby to inhale sharply through clenched teeth. "Your hand..." That's one.
Soreness began to course through her knees for they were being suffocated by the uncomfortable wooden floor, no doubt causing it to bruise. "The floor.." That's two.
The last one she had to wrack her brain for. Abigail's thoughts were clouded in a shroud of tattered memories from that wretched dream. Yet she need not look further as linen clung to her damp sweat ridden back like a leech, must be her covers then. "My blanket." That's three.
"C'mere please?" The elder Lincoln beckons to which Abby complies, mustering what's left of her energy in leaning forward. Cree catches the back of her sisters' scalp and slowly guides Abigail right onto her lap and into comforting arms.
Tenderly placing Abby's head against her bosom, the gentle thumps of Cree's heart encourage Numbuh 5 to follow suit with her own.
Taking deep inhales through her nose, steadying her body from the cold shivers it unceremoniously gave her, yet not quite stopping poor Abby to exhale slowly. This method continued for a few minutes until Abigail finally caught her breath.
Sapped eyelids droop as Abby's ticker seems to cease its rapid beating, taking on a more tranquil approach.
Slowly her gaze shifts upwards to meet Cree's own.
"How.. How did you learn to do that?" The younger girl murmurs out. Trying to make herself comfortable in Cree's embrace.
"Summer Camp back in 01'—" Cree gingerly tucks a loose strand of her younger sister's hair behind her ear. "—while I was still in your Babies Next Door." Ending her tease with a smile.
Garnering a weary groan from Abigail whomst shifts uneasily in her seat at the very mention of the organization she works for.
Cree notices her change in attitude. Almost sounds like Abby is afraid of what she said. Not the response she wanted at all. She wasn't expecting the brave and oh so fierce Abigail to turn away from her, opting to hide her face in the Teen Ninja's shoulder as if she was invisible.
"Abby?"
Sniffles were all that responded back to Cree and if she weren't mistaken, thanks to the moonlight coating the room, she could see a damp spot forming in her pajama top, further baffling Cree that Abigail began crying at her jab mentioning the KND.
Okay.. this definitely isn't good. Last time she broke down like this was an incident involving one of her friends going permanently bald. Constantly putting the blame on her stupidity and forbidding herself to take a stand as leader. Cree had a hunch where this was going, but would rather ask to make sure.
"Abby.. what's wrong?"
Jerking away from Cree's shoulder, Numbuh 5 urgently wipes away fat tears that dare trickle down her face with a sleeve from her dark blue jersey sweatshirt.
The very thought of letting something this personal be free and bite her in the keister later thanks to her no good gossiping sister isn't what she is mentally prepared to handle yet.
"Why- Why should Abby tell ya..? You'd just use it a-against her, anyways.." Babbling out.
A gasp escapes Cree. "You're right. I do tend to hold it against you, do I."
She slowly lowers Abby's wrist from her face. There the Teen Ninja caught just how puffy and red her younger sister's eyes were. With a somber sigh she gently rakes her thumb across Numbuh 5's tear stained cheek. "This seems more intense than the usual 'caught you correcting grammar mistakes in my diary, because it's funny'..."
Blank warbling eyes bore holes into Cree's auburn. Somehow Abigail knew where this was headed. "I'm your sister girl. You can tell me what went down. I won't utter a peep about this conversation to another living soul." A reaffirming squeeze on Abby's wrist emphasizes her seriousness.
Numbuh 5 inhales deeply, trying to not let another tirade of weeping halt her from announcing her true thoughts. Hurt and helpless, but pushing this resistant feeling deep down in the vacant pit of her crumbling consciousness. "You promise..?" Strict sternness rich in her tone.
The Teen Ninja nods. Lifting a finger to gesture a crucifix over her chest. "Cross my heart and hope to-" she pauses, blinking rapidly, firmly clearing her throat. Catching what she was about to say towards her traumatized sister. However by not finishing her proclamation she is evidently leaving Abby hanging. Sensing her sister's scowl deepen as she begins to stare downtrodden at the floor, Cree immediately ditches her prior statement and lifts Abigail's chin to face her.
"I promise. You can trust me."
Abigail scoffs at her statement, but what good is it to not take a helping hand to alleviate her sorrows. The very same help that is related to her by blood who has been there for her since she was brought onto this Earth. Even if she could, how could she describe it? The absolute terror of being restricted access to move, witnessing the grim abomination of her so called 'friends' sewn to her bedroom door, how could she break this all down to a palpable sentence? Could it even make sense? Dreams tend to be alluding..
With a trembling breath and a cohesive sentence on the tip of her tongue she bleats.
"I-I'm scared.." She hoarsely whispers, wrapping herself in a shivering hug. Not even bothering to speak in third person. "I'm.. I'm so- so scared, Cree. It was terrifying. It.. It still is! I don't know.." Abigail hesitates as she snorts loose snot back up her nose. "I don't know where to start."
Cree gently began rubbing circles on Abigail's heaving back. "Start simple. Er… well.. as simple as you can get."
As stated previously, compiling all that she vividly remembers from her dream is hard to break down, but one thing which is simple to remember so much so it stuck with her even as her body functions properly now is that: "I.. I couldn't move."
"You couldn't move?" Cree lifts a curious brow. A bit perturbed at the idea. "As in: you were tied up or stuck in a tight space?"
"No fool!" Abby's voice couldn't be raised higher than a rasp. Face morphing into a temporary grimace. "For the life of me I- I couldn't move any of my limbs!" Her ireful mask cracked completely as faint memories of her friends drained of will and determination. Utterly weak from a virus seeping out their life force before her very eyes.
That's the tough part to explain; why it happened.
So she opts to keep it simple. Just as Cree said. She doesn't need to spill everything to her, just enough to grasp what happened.
"I saw them.. my friends I mean. They were in pain... They were in so much pain and they blamed me for trying so hard to be like him. Like Nigel..."
Cree let out a low whistle. Gathering up the mental jigsaw pieces and piecing them together. Her previous theory checks out. "Sounds to me like you had a one way ticket to experiencing paralysis."
"Paralysis..? Was it something Abby ate that caused.. well.. whatever happened to her?" Abby ponders solemnly, as she begins to rub her eye with her fist.
A hearty chuckle from Cree shines through this bleak scenario. "Nah it isn't caused by something you eat. Rather it's what happens up here-" The older girl taps a warm index finger in between Abby's brows. "-and in here." Lowering her finger to then press against Abby's chest.
"So.." Abigail starts off slowly, trying to find the right words. "What you're telling Abby.. is that her feelings caused it?"
"Bingo. So whatever happened before you sat down at the dinner table must've put you in such a funk, it caused your brain to project it." Cree informs with a sympathetic smile, scooting Abby back into her embrace. The smaller girl didn't push her away, rather she rested her head against her sister's collarbone. Her sniffles dying down ever so slightly, yet this daunting revelation haunts her. Locking her chest in a pit of despair.
"Care to tell me?" Cree softly pries.
Hesitation held Abigail back, chewing her bottom lip in contemplation. What can she do? What can she say? She can't exactly tell her Numbuh 1 is far... far far far away in another world.
How could she formate this in a way that it didn't sound stupid or as if she were fibbing?
The answer suddenly becomes crystal clear, seeing no other way around Cree's observant gaze. No matter how hard she fakes this situation ever happening or making a break for her window.
Cree would know her exact move. Always has and always will.
But… Noticing how Cree is taking valuable time out of her night just to listen to Abigail's plights made her feel.. good. Her older sister has been validating her feelings which greatly motivates Abigail to tell some truth.
Hints of honesty is the least Numbuh 5 can do.
"Nigel's.." She forcefully gulps down another sob. "Nigel's gone. Leaving Abby completely in charge of Sector V.."
Nothing is exchanged. Not even a hum or even a 'whew' to signify her relief. Instead Abigail's room wafts in a shroud of uncomfortable stillness. As an alternative to being met with negativity, Abby is met with Cree crinkling her brows in thought.
Yep. Further proof to Abigail's fear of taking the pedestal in Nigel's stead.
Blinking out of a captivating trance she stares unsure orbs down at Abigail.
"Wow.." Is all the Teen Ninja could muster. Creasing her concerned gaze as a plausible yet terrible outcome hit her. "Is he? Y'know.."
Only a sniffle and a nod from Abby gave her a confirmation in her grim assumption. Her waterworks begin to pour like a faucet.
In actuality, Nigel is alive. Breathing in manufactured O2 up in another galaxy...
Given his disappearance, it might as well feel like Numbuh 1 got abducted, his body never to be recovered.
As dark as Abby's thought process is, in truth, nothing can bring her best friend back…
Automatically assuming the worst is the only truth she could freely give to Cree.
"Oh.. Oh sweet little Abby." Cree rests her cheek atop Abigail's messy raven hair. Encapsulating her devastated sister in a comforting hug. Abby once more burrows her face in the crook of Cree's neck, trying desperately not to babble like a toddler. Yet words manage to slip out of her wobbling lips. "What do I do… what do I do… what do I do...?"
Being met with gentle shushes — which as baby-esque as it sounds — seems to help calm Abigail.
It's an understatement to how dehydrated she is from secreting salty tears over a paralysis demon that didn't exactly exist.
Depending solely on grounding her reality with Cree's toasty embrace. Secured by her safe haven, though she wouldn't exactly admit it aloud, Abigail always felt protected inside her sister's hold. Even when she was but a toddler, ranging from coming home from a bad day of kindergarten to accidentally falling down and scraping her knee, nothing could exactly top how relieved Abby feels anytime her older sister holds her close.
"You do what you can.." Her soothing voice breaks the pace of Abigail's rhythmic hiccups. "Be there for your team.. What that dream put you through was a manifestation of your worst fears."
Abby began fervently shaking her head from where it is tucked beneath Cree's chin. "I can't! I- I can't.. I can't.. what if it becomes true?"
Countering Abigail's statement the Teen Ninja plants a quick peck atop her little sister's head. "I have faith that you know better than to lead them astray. Besides-" She leans away from Abby — who wasn't quite prepared to be torn away from her comfort bubble — pressing her knuckles against the braided girl's noggin, giving her a small noogie. "-if you did then it'd be that much easier to defeat you!"
Abigail playfully smacks her fist away from her now disheveled mop of charcoal hair. Replacing her blubbering cries with a chuckle of her own. "How poetic of you to say, sis."
Chortling at her own jab and further influenced to lighten the dreary atmosphere that hung atop Abigail's head like a rain cloud she begins to playfully shrug as if the Teen Ninja didn't realize her recent actions.
"What? Am I right or am I right?" Cree spoke with a mischievous grin.
The momentary bliss of ignorance dries up like a drought for Abby. Massaging her scalp from Cree's sweet yet unnecessary deed, glowering upwards at the teenager in question.
"Oh shut it. You know its more difficult than that."
A sullen yet knowing expression graces Cree's features, catching Abigail off guard. "I know." Hopeful yet dangerously sorrowful is her tone. "Which is why you gotta take baby steps in your new role as leader. Don't let one mistake jeopardize your self-esteem."
Abigail, baffled at her sister's wisdom bomb, tries to retort. Counteract with a nagging fear that has been chewing away at her heartstrings.
"But- But what if-"
Try as she might to voice her thoughts, it's abruptly cut short by Cree.
"Ah ah ah! No buts!" She rebuts harshly, causing her little sister to clam her trap up. Observing how fidgety Abby got by twiddling her braid. The once former figurehead of Sector V lowers her tone.
"Trust me.. you aren't the only one who made big mistakes crowning the leader title and it won't be the last."
Curiosity began to collect in the younger girl's mind, humming a thoughtful tune whilst tousling her braid between her fingertips. She just needed to know one thing.. one little thing to settle the raving tide within her mind.
"Cree.. Say uh.. What is your biggest mistake?"
Those five words made Cree stiff, completely thrown off and torn asunder by such a question. She can't exactly refuse such a question considering she's the one that mentioned it in the first place. Abby spilt her anxieties, maybe spilling her own could ease another.
"Well.. If I had to pinpoint my biggest mistake.. It'd be failing you."
Abigail blinks rapidly, analyzing what Cree uttered out to her. She sounded almost broken admitting such a deep seeded regret. "Failing... me?" She drawls out slowly, not exactly finished comprehending her words. "Your biggest mistake is failing me?"
"Yes. You." A distant whisper escapes her. "When I deviated from the Kids Next Door, I left behind someone special all alone while I chased after my own desire to keep the only memories I once had of her alive.. I- I didn't want to lose you, or the fun times we had, so I did the only thing I could think of.. I ran." Cree admits sheepishly waiting for any resemblance of a reaction out of Abby.
All that Abigail gave Cree is her broadening gaze.
Mouth opened in shock, completely speechless at such a heartbreaking reveal. However the Teen Ninja isn't quite done, as some clarification and self-awareness is afoot.
"Little did I know by leaving I was hurting you. And I know that I still am." Cree mournfully acknowledges. "At the time I didn't know what other choice I had. Only believing in a miracle that someday you'd understand.."
Cree lays bare her own failures to Abigail, an acceptance to her own wrongdoing, underlying it all as a plea.
"This is one crazy way for me to apologize. And it's true.. I just never really got to say anything because I- or rather we were too stubborn to realize why. And for that... I'm sorry."
"I-.. I- Cree.." Abby's voice warbles. "You.. You have a point. But understand that just because you ran I am not going to stop caring about you." Emphasizing her statement by using First Person. "All this time I just wanted to know what I did wrong. You disappeared without a word for days. I was worried sick about you. We all were..." Abigail could feel Cree's shoulders sag during her speech. "Then when you came back, you were different. Putting on a façade to fool everyone into thinking everything is just peachy, but contradicting yourself by giving me looks that screamed unsaid threats."
Now it is Cree's turn to shift uncomfortably in her place. Her passive-aggressive attitude being recounted to her by an archenemy. She couldn't even recite a comeback. It's only fair.
"And yet.. you still cared. I knew you were playin' a game, I-I just didn't know the rules.."
Both Teen Ninja and Kids Next Door operative were the closest of two differing factions to ever come close to seeing eye-to-eye. Much more hard hitting when you bring up the fact these girls have since lost their way. Once being best friends looking at another for guidance.
The saying that each side of the coin is different yet still the same rings true in representing Abigail and Cree Lincoln's dynamic.
The former exhales through her nose, feeling bags form under her eyes from lack of sleep.
"Cree, I know you don't want to lose me. I don't want to lose you too. But I want you to understand that we can always make new memories, it isn't going to be the end of the world. We will always cherish the old ones, even if we're old and wrinkly that we need a scrapbook for a reminder." The Half-French girl finally gives her older sister a hug for the first time that night. To which the astonished teen delinquent reciprocates, a weight akin to Atlas holding the world being lifted off her. "I've always looked up to you. I still do... And I will accept your apology only if you agree to one thang."
Then as if to add a cherry on top. "Can we- Can we still be friends?"
A heartfelt guffaw reverberates out of Cree's lips. A few tears of her own make their way down her pleased face. "Duh. Why did you think Mom had us 4 years apart?"
Lifting up a finger to retort back only to hang her jaw open, considering her words carefully. Yet nothing exactly came to fruition to dismiss this fact. Slamming her maw shut Abby hums softly: "Good point."
Clearing her throat and breaking away from Abby, Cree clambers back up to her feet.
"Now then.." The Teen Ninja lowers a helping hand towards her youngest sibling, who sat below her with a satisfied grin. "..Let's get you to bed."
A nod is exchanged as Abby firmly clasps Cree's hand, using her weight to boost herself off the hardwood floor. Her fleece blanket slipping off her back and plopping ungraciously at the base of her bed frame.
Hands held and hearts relieved, Cree leads her sister towards a disheveled bed, spotting Abby's mattress covers lumping together like miniature pointed hilltops. Smoothing it out, she then gestures an open palm down at Abby's ticket to sleepy time junction.
"Get comfy. I'll go fetch your shedded snake skin." Cree pokes hilarity at Abigail's blanket, to which Abby snorts in response, taking this moment as an initiative to hoist herself up onto her own bed. Plopping down upon silky soft bed sheets and feathered pillows.
While the youngest Lincoln sister resists temptation to fully close her drooping eyes, Cree quickly snags up the weighted cover and saunters back over to Abby. Draping the behemoth of a quilt up to her little sister's shoulders, tucking the loose fabric underneath Abigail's stomach and legs. Abby herself shimmies deeper into the growing snugness of her fluffy cocoon.
"Man.. Been a while since you last did something as sweet as this." She exhaustedly points out, adding her two cents with a long yawn.
"Don't get used to it." Cree brashly groans out. Even as words proclaim such a boastful insignia of preserving one's dignity, Abby heard the concealed soft tone in Cree's voice. Practically using reverse psychology. And if that wasn't enough confirmation then the forlorn pout on her big sister's face is. Seeing right through a blatant façade, truly she did miss doing this, Abby can tell.
Even with all the bad blood between them, they still retain precious recollections of the past. Forever being reminded of something once lost: each other. So caught up in their own feuds they fail to see the importance of one another. The value each has to both their mental states. Playing it off as weak when in reality it's a strength. A strength spawning from sisterly love. Rekindling from a fire about to snuff out, for two contributed to setting it ablaze once more.
Diverging the topic off of nostalgia, Cree kneels to Abby's eye level. Propping her forearms on her sister's mattress. "Comfy?"
Abigail merely snickers. "Very." Despite giving a truthful answer, a pit began to form inside her soul, leaving an uneasy feeling festering within her stomach. Knowing that for the rest of the night Abigail would be left alone with a whirlwind of intrusive thoughts. And she would be exposed to succumbing to it all over again.
She'll see them...
They who aren't even human anymore..
"Good. I'll leave you to it to catch some zzz's." As Cree begins to hoist herself up on her feet a spawn of anxiety begins to snake around Abigail, clutching her heart and lungs in unprecedented negativity foreseen, further clouding her logical mind in a foggy haze.
Practically resorting to emotions that of a toddler during a nasty thunderstorm.
Not wishing to take a chance where she'd suffer in her own conscience isolated from the only person keeping her sanity together. Abigail's hand swiftly shot out from under her covers. Firmly grasping a fistful of Cree's nightgown. It'd be one step forward, but two steps back to endanger an escape from her own corrosive abstractions directed towards her own happiness.
A singular but brutal tug stops Cree from shifting a knee out. Bewildered eyes tracing her arm back to Abigail and up to her watery orbs. "Please.. C-Can you- Can you stay?" Abigail starts, Cree unceremoniously noting how wobbly her voice is. The once prestigious KND operative narrows her gaze, chagrin plucking at her heartstrings. "Just for a few minutes.. please?"
A low growl rumbles the back of Cree's throat, signifying her annoyance between sleep or comforting her little sister. That was.. until an idea pops in her cranium. Clearly she isn't one to leave her little sister hangin'. Especially when her mentality is held together by a singular thread.
With a tired exhale she grabs the corner piece of Abby's blanket and lifts. "Scooch over."
Abby does as requested and moves over in her twin-sized bed. Not so much as she didn't really wish to fall off again and risk bruising her spine. Thank goodness she's smaller than Cree so there's just enough room for the two of them.
Speaking of, the older girl climbs under verdant covers, scooting right up to Abby before resting on her side.
Scooping the candy hunter into her gentle hold, providing a sort of safety net to calm Abigail's frazzled heart.
Once more Abby found herself retreating into Cree's neck, shielding her eyes from the moonlight peering through her stained window, resting the top of her scalp against Cree's shoulder blade. Curling into a fetal position up to her teen sister's frame. The former rests her chin atop a mop of frizzy soot colored hair, a comfort in of itself that reassures Cree that Abby is safe and sound. Not howling through heart wrenching keens, not violently shaking, not continually zoning out. Abby is here within her hold content and lethargic. This coziness that encloses both emotionally drained girls made them realize just how tired they really are.
As if the eye bags which hung like sandbags around their sockets aren't a literal testament to that statement.
Tonight's emotional rollercoaster fiasco allowed both girls to open up their darkest regrets, tears were shed and sentiments were given, leaving two bushed children in its wake. At the end of the day, it was worth it to open up..
To reconnect after so long. To repeat the same comfort tool used when Abby was just up to Cree's tummy in height. To find their safe haven.
"Hey sis?" Abby's drowsy voice reaches Cree's delicate ears, to which she hums in response.
"I don't say this enough, but.. I love you."
Cree gives Abby a good short squeeze in her loose hold, letting this small teensy action replicate this mutual feeling. "I love you too, Abby." Cree smiles, a hint of tranquility in finally saying a sentence she vowed to speak more often, but just didn't know exactly when…
To think that here, lying under her frenemy's covers, and coddling Sector V's famous spy. Relighting a sibling bond once locked behind a steel vault. Key rusted and once lost finally retrieved from a distant memory to behold and renew a friendship unimaginable.
Allowing the pitter patter of Cree's heartbeat to lull Abigail into a serene slumber. Snoring softly in a snug cuddle with her older sister. The latter allows the overwhelming warmth of both of their body heat to swamp her form into a peaceful sleep, having to deal with an exceptionally cold room in the house due to the ventilation not blowing hot air properly into her room causes it to be a lot colder at night, so this was a welcoming albeit temporary change for the teenager.
Originally Cree once planned to move back to her room once Abby careens into a peaceful hibernation, yet after tonight, she too was mentally tired to even dare depart her body from something that isn't ice-cold for once.
There were no dreams that night, no paralysis, no fake mimics to trick her young mind, nothing rancid to pluck her good feelings away like petals from a tulip. Abby finally found her way home from the vast forest of dread.
Next Morning
6:30 AM
Mrs. Lincoln arose from slumber at 5:30 AM sharp. Took a quick shower, got spiffed up for the day ahead, and prepped her darling daughters favorite: bacon and cheese omelettes for breakfast.
All quickly done in time for her wrist watch to blink a reminder to get her girls up and out of their respective beds.
Clicks of her heels sharply resonate throughout the vacant hall of her family home as she scales up the steps. Reaching the top of the stairs the hallway carpet muffles her fancy dress shoes.
Swerving towards her eldest daughter's mahogany door she gave it a few gentle raps.
"Cree, mon petit biquet, it's time to-" To her surprise the door creaks on its hinge, opening to reveal an empty space. Taking a second look over to try and spot her eldest daughter in a sea of plushies slumped upon her purple sewn beanbag.
No luck there.
So she pans her wary eyes to her menagerie of makeup near her large mirror.
No sign of her darling baby.
Everything is neatly in place or as neatly as it can be.. for when Mrs. Lincoln spots thrown frilly magenta quilt and no Cree this usually means she is with another precious lamb of hers. TO which the matriarch found a bit shocking since this sort of situation hasn't happened since both were but lil' chicks.
Gently closing the entryway, she strutted over to Abigail's door.
Twisting the knob and peering into the crack, spilling lamplight inside until a gleaming ray creeps up on two figures fast asleep. And goodness did she have to stifle a squee.
For her motherly prediction proved itself adorably correct for both Cree and Abby were snuggled up together in bed.
Her eldest daughter sprawling on her back, her left arm resting above her head and tan sweatpanted leg poking out of an olive green blanket, wrinkling her blank white pajama top was Abby's head relaxing atop Cree's rising chest.
Her right arm wrapped around Abigail's balled up form, hugging her close akin to a teddy bear.
Her youngest took being pampered like a stuffed toy as if it was nothing. Rather she seems to be enjoying it as she is curled right up to Cree's side like a kitten. Clinging tightly onto her older sister's nightshirt.
Mrs. Lincoln couldn't contain her happiness any longer, she needed to establish blatant evidence to her husband that her girls still care for each other, preventing herself from standing around like a deer caught in an adorable stupor. She needed to capture this miniature victory as determination motivates Mama Lincoln to move downstairs. Exclaiming under her breath.
"Quelle précieuses mignonnes ! J'ai besoin pour obtenir la caméra!"
("What precious cuties! I need to get the camera!")
Tip tapping of clanking heels stirs the eldest out of her slumber. Blinking a few times to banish the crust accumulating around her eyes.
Smacking her lips only to notice how unbearably dry her mouth is.
A low groan escapes her throat as she begins to observe her surroundings. Only to find that it looked amiss, the wallpaper isn't pink and.. are those neon star stickers slapped onto the popcorn ceiling?
Yeah no this isn't Cree's room.
The answer as to whomst living quarters this is lies snoozing against her. Humming curiously, she glances down at the body and couldn't help but smile sweetly.
Cree would never admit to this to anyone else, and she'd rather be caught dead than utter it aloud, but lying here basking in the early morning light as Abby's head casually pressed down on where her heart beats calmly wasn't so bad.
END