WHO: Ilsa & Lena WHEN: Wednesday WHERE: The hospital WHAT: you're aliiiiiveeeeee WARNINGS: probably talk of torture
When Ilsa had been sixteen, her mother had been hit by a car. For almost a week she was in intensive care and the doctors had been unsure if she would make a full recovery or not.
That had been the first time that Ilsa discovered how she would act in a crisis. While she easily - almost unnaturally and perhaps unhealthily - was able to ignore, forget or gross over the truly awful things that happened to herself, when it became about the lives and wellbeing of others, Ilsa was not nearly so relaxed.
While her mother had been in hospital, Ilsa had shut down. She stopped speaking and interacting, becoming a ghost-like thing that lived in the family home. She continued to eat and to sleep and to shower but she was unattached, a robot incapable of anything that deviated from a normal human routine. (Which, for Ilsa, was an especially strange thing as she despised routine. But trauma seemed to make her need it, devouring worry leading her body to make patterns while her mind was absent.)
And this time, with Lena in the hands of the Devil, Ilsa reacted that same way. At first it had been panic and anger, and she'd screamed at Joey that this was his fault. (Ilsa, who rarely expressed anger even when she felt it.) But by the middle of that same day she had retreated into herself, unable to empathize or connect with any of the others around her who were also scared and upset and worried. Jade sobbed on the couch in the living room and Ilsa noted it with detached eyes when she went to the bathroom. It was a thing that was happening but further than that, Ilsa was unable to feel or connect with it or with her. And when any of them tried to talk to her, Ilsa just watched them blankly, unable to even reach confusion at their efforts. With Lena gone, Ilsa felt like a distant alien lifeform, watching humanity from a detached distance.
But now Lena was alive and Ilsa had come alive again, worried not no longer to the point where it was something she couldn't deal with. Lena was in hospital and going to be okay.
It wasn't the first time she'd come to visit her, but it was the first time that she hadn't been unconscious or on so many different drugs that she was barely able to focus.
"Good morning," Ilsa said from the doorway, coming in and pulling a chair up beside her. She'd been reading to Lena a bit, but she wasn't sure how much her sister would remember of that.