[Marta Narrative] Who: Marta What: Narrative (When you don't follow the rules of your release program...) Where: Repose --> Capital When: Right before the end of the infrasound Warnings/Rating: Talk of drugs, mental health, hospital, and sex work (some insults from hallucinations)
She'd never made it to Aedan's house. If he'd sent a car, by the time it arrived, she'd disappeared. The house was still nearly-spotless, if anyone managed to peer inside the windows, though the dust would eventually settle, depending on how long it stood empty. Because for the moment, Marta wasn't there.
When the knocking had come, seeming at least a little more solid than the voices of the men around her, she'd answered the door and looked up (up and up) at the very tall police officer that stood on the porch. Every inch of him was official and intimidating, though he tried to ease it with a bland smile. He said her name and glanced down at a notepad in his hand before turning his attention to her face to confirm against the photo he'd looked at before leaving the computer in his squad car (parked in front of the house where the nosy neighbors could peer out their curtains to watch). Her identity confirmed, he politely but firmly made his way into the house as the men laughed behind Marta's back, saying he was going to arrest her for being a whore, that she was going to prison, that he was going to fuck her and kill her and leave her to rot...
But no, he wasn't doing any of those. It was... a wellness check? She'd missed her drug screens, part of the release program that kept her out from behind bars. And when they called her work to check up on her, no one answered at the gym. The officer looked carefully around himself as he spoke, noting the empty (but clean) state of the house, and the way that Marta looked exhausted and almost sick. Her hands were red and abused from the cleaning products, and they trembled slightly at all times. For as clean as the house was, she didn't look as if she'd been taking care of herself. And she flinched from time to time at nothing he could see.
So he made a judgement call. Having to reassure her that he wasn't taking her to prison, he let her pack a small bag of things and then guided her out to the car. She went quiet once she was in the back seat, bag on her lap and picking at the strap of it.
The ride into the Capital took a while, but when they finally pulled to a stop, it wasn't in front of a police station or prison. It was one of the hospitals in the city, and they bypassed the chaos of the ER once he led her inside. Even so, the hospital itself (the scent, the sounds, the people and feeling of sickness and desperation) laid over her and seeped into her, making her seem even smaller than she usually was. At one point, she told him (softly) that she didn't want to be there, but he only told her that it would just be for a little while.
He stayed with her as they reached the "Adult Crisis Ward", as a nurse got her checked in and shown to a room. It was the same sort of room she'd been in last time, shortly after her overdose, and she felt like the few memories she still had from that point would rise up to choke her. At least they'd left all the men and their greasy stares and harsh words back at the house. She waited as they went through her bag, removed a few things to be locked away, and then left her to "rest". There were voices in the corridor, behind other doors, down at the nurse's station, where she could hear the officer thanking the nurses before leaving the ward.
She'd have to wait to see a doctor, to find out what was going on, and what she needed to do now. So for the moment, she simply laid on the bed and curled up around herself as best she could.