hunter "great social skills" mackenna. (detections) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-02-21 17:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, ! plot: kidnapping, daisy hughes, hunter mackenna |
WHO: Daisy Hughes and Hunter MacKenna.
WHEN: Thursday evening, after training.
WHERE: Hunter's room.
WHAT: Daisy finds something everyone had forgotten about.
STATUS: Completed log.
DAISY: The room was silent, save for the sound of Hunter’s fingers on his keyboard. Daisy made no sound in her work, and her concentration was focused solely on the laptop screen. Out of habit, her fingertips rested softly on the edges of the machine, anchoring her there. Windows opened and closed as she navigated her way through the system. Daisy pulled her legs up tightly beneath where she sat on Hunter’s bed. It was easy to forget to stretch. When she got really immersed in a project, Daisy found that she could sometimes let her mind get lost for hours in the system, pushing it along to see what she could find, what she could remember. It hadn’t always been that way. At some point, something changed for Daisy. She couldn’t remember at what point Hunter’s pushing and nagging had turned from a source of frustration into – well, into something wholly unnecessary. She wasn’t sure when she’d started liking this work, but she did know that he had everything to do with it. Her attention turned to the browser window, minimized in the corner. She pulled it up. A dummy email address was necessary for this project, and Daisy went to her old AMU account. It was still active; she knew, because she’d used it once before, to test something back in September. Still active, but empty. Except – “That’s weird,” she mumbled under her breath. Daisy pulled up the email and began to read. Dear Valentine, It's been a while since I last heard from you, so I'm trying a few of your old emails in case you still have access and check these. You're such a pain in the ass, always getting in trouble, but just remember my advice and I'm sure you'll be fine. Keep your eyes open! We're hoping to come visit you soon, so get back to me on your situation re: your roommates and landlord. I'm sorry to report that this year has been rough. We've had some deaths in the family recently that I'd rather tell you about in person, when we see you. Just know that they're in our thoughts and keep them in your prayers, as everyone is doing for you too. Even me, and you know how against prayer I am! Let's Skype soon. I miss your fucking face, sis. Love, Ender The tears were sudden but quiet, streaming down Daisy’s face by the time she’d reached the second paragraph. When she finally made a sound, she'd already read it twice. A broken sob interrupted the silence. HUNTER: His head jerked up from his work when he heard that sound. It took a moment for him to even realize what it was; it was so unexpected, so out of nowhere, that he wasn't sure for a moment if she was somehow laughing, or if she was really crying. He was sitting at his desk, and his fingers only tapped the keyboard for a breath more to save his progress before he twisted around in his seat to look at her. He saw the tears and was on his feet in a heartbeat, moving over to the bed and kneeling at the edge to pull her computer away from her fingers. Whatever was on there, whatever she was staring so intently at -- he needed to get it away from her, remove her from the source. "Daisy," he said anxiously, frowning at her as he put the laptop aside, reached for her shoulder and brushed a strand of hair away from her face along the way. "Daisy -- what's wrong?" Worst case scenarios were already reeling through Hunter's mind. Carter -- her parents had contacted her -- something about Hume, post-mortem haunting her through the news -- he braced himself for whatever she had to say. DAISY: She brought a hand to her face to wipe the tears away, but more took their place. Don't cry, don't cry, she tried to tell herself -- it had worked before, in the weeks past, but there seemed to be no stopping it now. Looking up at Hunter, she found herself imagining what he must have looked like over the days she'd spent in the darkness. She imagined him at the IVI-supplied computer where he'd written the message, she imagined that, like her, he'd been imagining the worst. That they'd never see each other again. Suddenly, Daisy remembered that feeling. It hit her hard across the chest and she struggled for air as another ugly sob escaped. She found that she couldn't even respond. Not right away. Not right now. Instead she reached for Hunter's arm, lightly tugging him closer. Daisy willed herself to calm down, but it seemed like such a monumental feat to accomplish. It's over, she'd told herself time and again, just as her counselor had coached her to do. This is real, all of that is done. Feeling Hunter next to her should be comforting -- it was comforting -- but she couldn't stop thinking about the letter. About how desperately they'd searched, and about how desolate her life had felt during those days. The letter that never received a response, the letter that might have gone unread forever, if things had gone differently. HUNTER: He didn't need more encouragement to move onto the bed, twisting until he could put his arms around her and pull her side against his chest, tuck his legs beneath him. His hand found its way to her face, stroking her cheek and running through the blond mass in an instinctive gesture to comfort her, and he leaned his forehead against her hair too, silently trying to project his feelings across the void to her, like he possessed empathy or telepathy. Everything's gonna be okay. I'm here. Don't cry. He'd been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later. Daisy had been acting so okay, and he'd let her have that -- gave her the caretaker position that she needed so badly, allowed her to look after him even knowing that she was doing it at the expense of her own emotional strength. He knew he couldn't keep doing it forever, though. Sooner or later, though, he knew the walls would have to come crumbling down, or he would have to pull out a brick or two himself to see what kind of damage really lay behind them. No one could be that okay, really, not after everything they'd gone through. Not after everything she had gone through. Why the fuck was it that every time Daisy cried, he ended up wanting to cry too? "It's okay," he murmured softly aloud, closing his eyes. "It's fine. I'm here." DAISY: Daisy let herself cry against him, finally just admitting defeat and relinquishing control. She let it come. Hunter's protective warmth was the very symbol of safety, but an overwhelming sadness seemed to have enveloped Daisy, suffocating her. The only solution seemed to be to cry. It seemed like hours later when she finally felt it subside enough to talk, although in reality, no more than a minute could have passed. She was gripping Hunter's arm too tightly, Daisy realized, and when she released her grip, her hand was shaking. There was a kind of embarrassment she felt, knowing that she was creating quite a scene over -- what, an email? "I'm sorry," she apologized out of instinct. She was sorry that she always seemed to be crying. Even if it had been months since the last time, Daisy sometimes felt like she was always in tears. "I just -- I found..." she swallowed. "You wrote me an email, didn't you? While I was -- while I was gone?" She hated the word kidnapped. Children were kidnapped, and helpless victims. Daisy hated thinking of herself as a victim. HUNTER: "It's okay," he shot back automatically. Daisy apologizing for crying -- no. She needed to when she did, she had every right. Her grip on his arm seemed like nothing compared to what he was used to, at times, with Vic; her power was lingering in his mind as always, but he was so familiar with it by now that it barely registered. He laughed, a little bit, when she mentioned the email. It wasn't really a laughing matter, but it seemed more absurd when it popped into his head, in retrospect. "Yeah, that's right. The Wiggins Family newsletter." It was funny that just the other day Jodi had asked him, when discussing the book, if he identified with Ender -- he'd signed it with love, from Ender to Valentine, brother to sister. It was code that wouldn't give him away to anyone, something she would understand and recognize as him immediately, and the message inside had been casual enough to the uninformed reader that they wouldn't see anything suspicious. Just spam, hopefully. He didn't remember exactly what he'd written, but he remembered writing it clearly enough. Trying to figure out how to find exactly the right words to give her hope and strength, even when he himself had none to spare. Agonizing over what to say to let her know that some people hadn't made it, without breaking her heart completely. How to tell her that they were on their way and that anything she could give them would help, anything at all. A way to express how much he loved her and missed her. No wonder she was fucking crying; his heart wrenched in his chest, squeezed by an invisible hand, and he tightened his grip around her. "So you found it," Hunter said at last, his voice thicker than he would have liked it to be. "I'd almost forgotten about it." DAISY: "Yeah," Daisy hiccuped. She moved her head against his chest, rubbing her forehead against his chest. There were other words to say, but they all competed in her head for the right to come out first. They were only half-formed, more emotion than coherent thought, a sudden rush of fear and anger and sadness and grief all piling up inside of Daisy at once. Where was all of this coming from? "It might have been me," she finally whispered against Hunter's shirt. She hoped that he wouldn't interject. Daisy suddenly felt like she needed to speak. She needed to get out some of the feelings, she had to let open the valve, or they'd poison her from the inside. "And like, I can't even tell if like, that's even what still scares me, that they killed people and like, I could have been one of them." Maybe even should have been one of them. "But I think what's worse is that when I think about it, I can't even think about... about Alyosha or Myra. All I can remember is how like, it was so cold and I just wanted you back, and Carter, and..." Daisy had to pause to wipe her nose, dragging her sleeve across her face and blinking out new tears. She wasn't even sure what she was saying anymore, they were just words. "And I just... thank you." She finally looked up at Hunter's face. Daisy's cheeks were red and blotchy and mascara had smeared. "For like, being there, on the other side. Because I wasn't sure who was. Or if anyone --" but her voice broke off before she could finish. She didn't suppose it really mattered. There was no coherent message in what Daisy was trying to say. Her thoughts were a mess of fragmented parts that she was still trying to piece together. HUNTER: He didn't interrupt. He wasn't sure what to say yet, much less where to begin. He just held her, let her cry against his shirt and talk even though he could feel the wet tears soaking through already, and kept stroking her hair, his eyes closing as he listened. When she pulled back to look up at him, he opened his eyes and stared down at her; Daisy wasn't a pretty crier, but that was all right. She'd left mascara stains on his shirt, but that was all right as well. He'd clean her up in a few. It wasn't important right now. "You're welcome," he said quietly. "You know if I was alive, wild horses couldn't have stopped me." But as she'd said before, back when she'd first seen him again for the first time, she had no way of knowing if he was alive or not. If she'd ever see him again even if they did keep her, if they didn't dispose of her when her usefulness as a technopath had come to a conclusion. "It's a lot." Hunter cupped her face in his hand. His words weren't really sufficient, but they would have to do. He wasn't the most eloquent in times like this. "It's all just been...a lot. Since we've gotten here, I mean, and terrorist attacks, and the nightmares, kidnapping, assassinations -- it's a lot of shit to wrap our minds around." He found himself chewing at the corner of his lip. "There's no right or wrong way to feel about this kind of thing, Dais, it's all just...how you're feeling. What you can handle. Just tell me what you're feeling. I'm not gonna judge you or tell you you're wrong or tell you it's fucked up, trust me. Just talk to me." DAISY: "Yeah, I know. It's just..." Where did she even start? "It's like, I'm never even sure what I'm feeling." Daisy took a breath, steadying herself. Hunter's words had a calming effect. A slight edge had been taken off, though her hand was still trembling. "Most of the time, it's okay, if I don't think about it, I guess. Sometimes I get like, angry about stupid things, but my counselor said that was normal, I guess." There was once a time when Daisy would have rather died than admit that she went to counselor, nonetheless actually listened to what one had to say. But those days were gone. "But mostly I think I'm just... scared. And I hate feeling that way. Like, I know you wouldn't leave me, like I know you mean it and I read that email and I know, but I'm so freaking scared, like, all the time, whenever I let myself think about it." She was crying again, and Daisy closed her eyes tightly. A shaky breath was necessary before she could open her eyes and continue on. "It sounds so pathetic to say it like that, I didn't used to be like this. But I shouldn't have even survived that nightmare, I shouldn't have, I only lived because of like, luck and like, Mike and Conner and Lo and Omar of all people, and then I thought I lost you on top of that," Daisy averted her eyes guiltily, feeling awful for even bringing it up. "And then I felt like maybe things were back under control, and then it was all just like, gone, all over again. And now it feels like any day I might just wake up and you'll be gone. And it's so totally selfish, but I can't stop being scared, even when I should be like, grateful that I'm not dead." HUNTER: Though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he'd been avoiding having this conversation with Daisy because he was scared of what she would say. He couldn't fix her. He knew that this was something beyond his control, something that couldn't be patched up with the right words and a hug, and that made him feel so helpless -- knowing there was nothing he could do, even with all his intelligence and experience and wisdom. "You're not pathetic and you're not selfish." It always frustrated him that he had to tell her that, over and over again, how she wasn't weak and she wasn't defenseless and she was in charge of her own life, but in that moment, he was having a strange sort of clarity about the situation. No matter how many people believed in her, she would always have that sense of doubt haunting her, the fear that turned every possibility into a potential disaster -- it could be crippling, if she let it. He understood because he felt like that himself so fucking often. They did this dance every single time, her and him, supporting each other when the insecurity became great enough that they couldn't do it on their own. So he wasn't frustrated. He was calm, and quiet, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek to wipe away some of the tears and mascara. "You don't have to be grateful that you're not dead." Leaning in, Hunter kissed her forehead gently, resting his mouth against her skin for a longer moment before he pulled away again. "I'm grateful you're not dead. I'm grateful you were lucky." But his tone grew a little stern as he studied her face. "It wasn't just luck, though. Maybe we would have found you some other way, but the reason we found you guys when we did was because you were able to leave a sign for me and I caught it. That's not just luck. You remembered everything I've taught you and told you, and you kept it together and you survived. I'm not saying that anyone else was weak or wrong because they didn't -- they were unlucky, and it's fucking sad that they were. But you probably saved the lives of the other three guys who were with you, Daisy, because of what you did. So you can be scared, because I fucking would be too if I was in your shoes, but I don't want you to forget that you weren't helpless when it mattered. You were smart and strong even when you were fucking terrified -- and like they say, that's the only time when you can really be brave." DAISY: Daisy didn't respond right away. Instead, she met Hunter's gaze, studying his eyes with her own. She felt herself protest many of the things he was saying, but she didn't. She didn't protest because she knew that he meant what he was saying, and that mattered more than whether or not Daisy could fully believe in his words. Because truly, what Daisy feared most of all was not being alone. It wasn't dying. She'd come to accept her own death not so long ago -- she had come to a sort of peace with the fact that she would die at the hands of people who hated her because of her DNA. What Daisy feared was loss. While she doubted her own capabilities -- more than doubted, she sometimes flat-out refused to believe that they existed at all -- Daisy could accept that life would continue to throw challenging situations her way. What terrified her more than anything, though, was that the people she'd come to love might leave her. Just like everyone else in Daisy's life had done, all for their own reasons. Her brother, her friends, her own parents. Daisy reached for Hunter's hand, threading her fingers between his, wondering if he could ever fully know how much she'd come to love him and need him. "You know," she said, moving her thumb softly over his hand, "the day they took me out, to -- to hack into the bank. At first I thought that like, that was sort of it. They took Astrid and Vanessa, you know? And they never came back. And I think I was sort of like... I mean, I was scared, but I'd kind of... I'd given up, I guess. But..." a tiny smile played upon Daisy's lips, borne out of a tinge of embarrassment at the memory. "But they walked me down this hallway and I just... I was thinking about you. And this sounds kinda dumb, I guess, but I could like, hear what you would say. In my head." Daisy spared Hunter a quick glance, then, but found that the admission felt too personal to give while looking him in the face. Crazy people talked to voices in their heads; but what she been, then? Desperate. Totally alone and clinging to memories. It was a frightening memory to voice, but it seemed right that she should tell him. Daisy pressed her cheek against his chest again. Squeezing his hand, she continued. "You talked me through the whole thing. I know it sounds like, totally insane, but I guess it's what I had to do to calm down. Pretend like you were there." Valentine thinking about Ender, even when her brother was thousands of miles away, up in space. Daisy paused. How did this story end? "You're really important to me." HUNTER: He found himself smiling, despite everything. Looking down at her head in the crook of his neck, her hand clasped in his -- he was smiling, and then grinning. "Oh yeah? Did I tell you that they could go fuck themselves?" There was a giddy pride in him, knowing that everything he had said and done had stayed with her to the point where she'd been able to hear his voice even when he wasn't around. He'd been there with her in those moments. It meant more to him than he could put into words. For a kid who had never really amounted to much of anything, who hadn't really mattered to anyone for a long time, he'd become a person who had guided a friend of his through one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. He wished there was a way he could have given her the same, in return. "You know," he started hesitantly, worrying that he was turning the conversation back to himself when he needed to keep the focus on Daisy, "when they announced who was taken, I kind of just lost it. I mean, Vic said he was volunteering for the field team and we fought about it, but then when it was over, I just..." Hunter shook his head slightly, chin brushing across the crown of her blonde hair. "I guess I just sat there for awhile. Completely tuned out. I started off going over every scenario in my head, trying to put all the pieces together and figure out the best next move and all the possibilities, but I kept coming back to thinking about was you, and Elsa, and losing you...and I wanted to fucking scream, or cry, I don't know. I felt like I was going to go insane." Hunter sighed, heavily. "You're really important to me, too. And -- god, I'm glad you kind of had me there with you. I'm glad I could help you." There wasn't even a shade of I'm glad it was me, not Carter. It didn't matter. Carter was the one who she was in love with, but he was her guide. That was exactly how it should be. DAISY: Daisy's eyes were wet again, but it wasn't due to sadness. The emotion felt almost like relief. That wasn't quite it, but there was something profound that she felt when Hunter echoed her words. Maybe it was selfish, but she never got tired of hearing people confirming the place that she held in their lives. Carter couldn't (wouldn't?) say that he loved her; that was okay, but sometimes that meant that she felt like she needed additional confirmation from other people, when she couldn't go to her boyfriend for it. Knowing that Hunter cared about her as much she cared about him -- and hearing him say it -- still gave Daisy an overwhelming sense of comfort. She moved her head to press a kiss upon his breastplate, the shirt was stained from her tears. "Thanks for... for not leaving me. And for like, reminding me that you won't, when I need to hear it." Daisy let out a laugh. "God, I'm such a mess. Don't tell anyone, okay?" It wasn't a serious question. If there was one thing that she never needed reassurance on, it was the level of trust that existed between Hunter and herself. HUNTER: Letting go of her hand, he wrapped his arm around her again to pull her into a firm hug. "Any time." He meant that, and he wanted her to know how much. "Seriously, Daisy -- talk to me. Fucking cry on me, if that's what you gotta do. I don't care if you're a mess or not, I'm a fucking mess too, trust me. I've cried on you too, and you know I'd murder you if you told anyone that, too." He sighed to himself as he let her go with one final squeeze and pulled off his white shirt, tugging it up over his head and handing it to her. It was already covered in mascara and tears and probably snot, too, so she might as well use it to clean herself up. "Here." He scratched at one of his freckled shoulders, watching her to make sure she got it all, ready to reach out and point to any streaks she might miss. Though he was silent for a long moment, he did speak up eventually. It was good that she'd told him how she felt, but there were a lot of things that they hadn't come close to touching on. He couldn't just let it go just yet, not without checking on her first. "I wasn't going to push you about this," Hunter said at last. "Hume. You didn't want to talk about it before, I know. I get it. But I want to know what you're thinking, so. Talk to me." DAISY: Holding the shirt in her lap, Daisy considered the question. She hadn't wanted to talk about Hume and his trial, that was true. But part of that had come from a place of non-consideration. She hadn't even allowed herself to think about how she might feel because she didn't want to feel anything at all. It was easier just to push it aside. When she spoke, it was careful and slow. "Those people... they hated us, Hunter. They didn't even think we were human. You can't treat people like that and think that they're, y'know, human beings. And they did work for him." There was no doubt in her voice. The guys -- Jack, Kieran, and Damien -- had overheard the name, and Daisy trusted their word unconditionally. "But... I just..." Daisy looked at Hunter with no small amount of pain in her eyes, pain that felt awfully close to helplessness. "What's the point? I think about it all and I get like, sick. Like, physically sick, in my stomach. It's like... when I was a lil' kid, I got real scared about death. Because I thought like, what if Heaven ain't real, and what if we just get buried and it's just darkness, like, forever? And when I thought about what forever would feel like, I got sick and I felt all panicked, because it was just so overwhelming. Forever, you know? I don't know if it makes sense, but that's how I feel when I think about this. Like it's never going to end. Like there's no way it turns out okay, in the end. We'll put people on trial, or we'll kill them, and more people will take us, and they'll put us on trial or they'll chase after us or kill us, and we'll never get to like, live. Do y'know what I mean?" She looked at Hunter, gripping his shirt so that she might steady herself against the tears that had only recently stopped. "It scares me like crazy, because it ends up in the same place every time. There's no happy ending for us, and that's just like -- it goes against everything I ever thought my life would be." HUNTER: He stared back at her, his own hands resting loosely against his thighs now. He stared and listened. He didn't believe in Heaven or Hell; he never had, not even as a child. It had always seemed like a false comfort to him, a story people told themselves to feel better about the harsh reality of death. And happy endings -- well, he'd been planning his happy ending for a long time, the story that concluded with him and Vic and everyone else they loved on some tropical island in the Caribbean or the South Pacific. But even that possibility didn't preclude mistakes along the way, nor did it white out the inevitability of death at the end. Hunter remembered her when they'd first met. Their early conversations, when Daisy had talked so furiously about just wanting this to be over and everyone to keep their heads down so that she could go home. He'd told her then that there was no way this could end well. He'd told her then to stop pretending that this was temporary and it would all just go away if she ignored it. IVI had been the beginning of the end. Or maybe it was even earlier than that -- the registry acts, or the Seattle Incident. The spiral was tightening, the effects coming more rapidly and with greater danger. At the end, there would be a clash greater than anything any of them had seen in their lifetimes, and there was no telling who would come out the victor or how long it would last, how thoroughly it would ravage the world as they knew it. It wasn't that he didn't see there being a way out at the end, or any hope of salvation: he did, he had to, or else there would be no point in trying to survive, in making plans and scheming for a way to protect the people he loved. But he couldn't just tell Daisy that she was wrong, that everything would be okay. He loved her and he wouldn't lie to her. He took a deep breath. "I know what you mean." His gaze dropped to the small expanse of blanket between them, beneath them, and he rubbed his hands slowly against his thighs as he pulled his thoughts together. "It's funny, though. Maybe it's 'cause I had a shitty upbringing or maybe it's just because I can always see how things can go wrong, but I always thought it would go this way. I mean, I had some hope otherwise, but --" He shrugged. "None of this surprises me." And it probably didn't surprise her to hear that. "You're right. Those people didn't think of us as human, and I'm not sad that Hume and some of his lackeys are dead. The less of them out there, the better. But we can't go around killing everyone who feels that way. I mean, it's not feasible, we just couldn't. There's too many of them and too few of us." Hunter looked up at her again, and there was something different in his eyes, something thoughtful and purposeful. "But it's not like that's it, that's all there is to it. At least, I don't think so. I think there's enough of us that we can pull together and...make a future for ourselves that isn't just fucking death and destruction." DAISY: Hunter was right, it didn't surprise her to hear that he'd always had a much darker outlook on how everything might play out. He'd made that clear enough from the start. And Daisy had come to believe it, one crushing blow to her optimism at a time. But there had always been the possibility of resolution in her mind, that at the very least, they might soon be granted their freedom. That people might come around, in some cities, at least. "I hope so," she answered him quietly. "People here are like, all I have left. I guess that's why it's so scary? If I die, then I guess like, that's it. I've sorta made my peace with that, or whatever. But when I think about my friends dying, or having to go through what we went through in December, or like, when I think about what I'd do if they separated us," Daisy tried to force out a smile, the kind that you opted for when every other part of your face wanted to crumple and give way to tears, though her eyes more than betrayed her. "That's the stuff that really like, scares me. And I start to like, panic, and I can't think about anything else." "I mean, I can hardly sleep in a bed by myself anymore. And sometimes I go to bed thinking that like, maybe I'll wake up in the morning and everyone will be gone." She took a deep breath. "And people spend all of this time arguing over like, the trial and all of this stupid stuff. Like they don't realize how bad things could get, like, tomorrow. I'm just scared all the time, Hunter." HUNTER: He couldn't help but grimace. And sometimes I go to bed thinking that like, maybe I'll wake up in the morning and everyone will be gone. He knew that feeling all too well. It was happening less and less often recently, but the number of times he'd woken up in a cold sweat just to check and make sure Daisy was still next to him, or Vic, or gotten out his phone even just to make sure the network was still there -- it was still too vivid, too real. Absently rubbing at the small circular burn on his forearm, Hunter nodded silently. Arguing over stupid stuff was not, in itself, unimportant; the issues were worth discussing, worth turning over and seeing how they fit into the larger picture. But it was easy to lose sight of the seriousness of their situation in all the details. Then again, it was easy to lose sight of the details in the midst of such seriousness. The risk of losing hope and giving up was too great. "What you went through -- what we've been through, both of us, I mean -- fucking terrifying shit, Dais. It's going to be a long time before either of us don't still wake up remembering the fear." He reached out then to grab her hands with one of his own, covering his tightly balled-up shirt. He told himself it was to comfort her, but in that moment it was definitely more because he needed to feel that she was solid, real, and right in front of him. "So you sleep with me or Carter or Jodi for a while, however long it takes. And we'll deal with the nightmares, and the panic." He was quiet for another moment. A thought occurred to him, one that he didn't very much like, but one that nagged at him and wouldn't leave him alone. "...Maybe you should talk to the staff. At the infirmary, I mean. See if they'll give you something for the panic attacks." He'd gone to them for sleeping pills, so he couldn't exactly act like he was above it. But he disliked the thought of Daisy going to them for medication, anything they'd put in her system that she relied on them to provide. He kept his mouth shut about his doubts. If she needed help, she needed his support, not his bias against the school and mood-altering drugs. "You can't help the risk. We're just going to have to bear with it and try to get past this, to something better. But we can figure out what to do to help you get through it, in the meantime." DAISY: Daisy moved closer so that her side was up against Hunter's. She let go of his shirt and took his hand again in her own. It had a familiar feeling that she liked, and she nodded her head up and down. "Yeah, maybe. I was taking the sleeping pills, too. And I took one this week. But if you think there's something else that can help..." she sighed. "Then I mean, I'll try. I thought I was doing okay, but..." With a shrug, Daisy bumped her shoulder against Hunter's. "And I'm gonna take that as an invitation that I can sleep in here whenever I want, just so y'know." HUNTER: "As long as Vic's not in here," he laughed a bit, nudging her back. "You have three beds you can sleep in, I only have one guy sleeping with me." After the weekend following Valentine's Day and the amount of time they'd spent in bed together -- even just the other night -- he felt somewhat optimistic about the likelihood of it continuing to happen. Hugo had apparently accepted that it wasn't worth it to hang around their room, between breaking doors and Daisy constantly in his bed and now sexiling, so it was starting to feel like a proper single. A room of his own where he could have guests over and do whatever he wanted. If Vic moved in, that might make it harder for him to have Daisy over, but they'd work things out. They'd need a system so she didn't just use her power to unlock his door and walk in on something she'd never be able to unsee, though. "Talk to them about pills," Hunter advised, putting his arm around her shoulder. "See if it helps. Now --" Reaching out, he tugged her laptop across the blankets and back onto her knees, his eyes going carefully blank as he tapped her touchpad once to close the email he'd sent without reading it again. "Work. I'll watch." |