Cable aka Nathan Summers (thelonggame) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-02-05 18:46:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, nathan summers (cable), neena thurman (domino) |
Some mornings weren't worth waking up, but you woke up anyway...
Who: Neena and Nathan
What: Neena has Dreams that change her physically, and affect her wellbeing in many ways. Nathan steps up.
Where: Their house
When: The morning of January 27th
Status: Closed and Complete
Rating: R for mentions and implications of violence toward a female main character, medical issues, and illness.
Nathan curled around Neena, resting comfortably, if a little off-kilter. He felt like his dreams were continuing, or like something was coming. Something bad. He felt like there was an apocalypse coming, or something. Something dark. But whatever it was was not showing itself just yet.
Nathan stretched, then curled closer… then blinked and his eyes opened. Something felt odd, not quite right. He looked at Neena in the morning light, then swore.
What the hell?
With a tentative, and gentle hand, he gripped her shoulder, and stared, as he shook her lightly. “Neena? Neena, wake up.” What the hell had happened to her?
Neena curled up tighter when he shook her. Her knees drew up to her chest and she buried her face in the pillow. Even when she was awake she hid her face with her hand. The last thing she wanted was for Nate to see the mix of emotions she felt on her face.
“Neena? What’s wrong? What did you dream?” Yeah, he had a good idea this was dream-related, what with the whole whiter than white skin, and what looked like, well, what he could see of her face, looked like there was a tattoo of some kind there. She must have dreamed something very not good.
“Fuck,” Neena said, shaking her head. There was no avoiding it, not really. Even thinking about talking about it was enough to make her shiver. The dreams made her so upset that she felt like she needed to vomit and shower. When she tried to get up to manage it, she almost immediately collapsed. Which was when she finally noticed her physical state. Not just pale, not just tattooed (though she couldn’t see that), but also thin. She didn’t have time to stare in horror, though. Without thinking at all about how embarrassing it was Neena grabbed the bedside garbage can and emptied her stomach into it.
Nathan swore as she collapsed, and winced as she threw up. His hands landed on her shoulders and he held her, making sure her hair was out of her face, as she rolfed. He knew her pride would get involved, and he spoke softly. “I haven’t thrown up that much since Afghanistan.” Quiet words, but words of understanding. He had been through a lot there.
“I’ll call the doctor.”
“No,” Neena croaked, shaking her head. “I don’t want anyone else poking around at me today. I’ll be fine.” She put the can back down and tried to stand again. This time she took more care and managed to hobble toward the bathroom. “I need to be autoclaved.”
“Neena…” He sighed as he eyed her, and stood, making sure she could make it, but not moving to help her unless she started to fall. “There’s a high pressure setting to the shower, the grey lever under the rest. But be sitting down before you turn it on.” It tended to rock even Nathan, and she was not in her strongest case.
“Can I… do you want me to help?”
No leering, no joking, just concern.
The high pressure setting would probably kill her, she figured. Rather than take her clothes off and see what else the dream had done to her Neena climbed into the shower and started it while wearing her pajamas. She sat on the floor of the shower and covered her face again, trying to keep her shit together. “You can stay, but just. . . fuck I don’t know. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Okay. I’m not going anywhere. You just do what you need to do.” Nathan nodded and flopped to the floor, sitting there and watching. He wouldn’t abandon her. He would find a way to help her, to convince her to see a doctor. And he would bury the anger that someone had done this to her.
“It might be… we might need to see the doc.” His eyes dropped to her belly. “For a checkup.”
“Jesus,” Neena said, following where his gaze lay. “Thank fuck I’m already pregnant.” Her conversation with Pete reared up in her head and she hoped like hell that nothing had happened to the baby because of the dreams.
The water was helping to ground her and remind her that, though they were convincing and awful, her dreams weren’t real. She pushed her soaking hair back and let the water run over her face. It helped, surprisingly. After a minute she ducked her head down again and turned toward Nate. “I’ll go, but not today.”
Nathan nodded. And her words confirmed the sinking feeling in his gut, and the anger in his mind, low and deep, flared. He stifled it, shoving it down, and nodded to her, letting nothing show as he relaxed his body completely.
“Okay. Not a problem. Today, we can see what resting and eating will do to help?” He paused. “OR whatever else you want to do.” He’d had nothing on the docket today, so he would just stick it out here and help her.
“Yeah,” Neena said, nodding in agreement. “I guess I ought to actually take your advice and do some working out, too.” Maybe it would help more than just her body. Having some other way to deal with the dreams, now that she couldn’t drink, would almost certainly be a good idea.
“We have the equipment. We can start out light and work upward.” He smiled to her, shifting to watch her better. “Plenty of different machines to try, and see what works for you.’
Nathan just wanted her to be happy. “We can work on tailoring a muscle growing diet for you, too.”
Neena nodded, then sighed and curled her legs up again, resting her head on her knees. “You had to save me, in the dreams. I was your damsel in distress and now I don’t even know if you’re alive. You didn’t even know I was gone. I don’t know how to deal with any of this.”
“All of that sounds rather complicated. But… none of us, I think, know how to deal with this. It’s an insidious practical joke the universes are playing on us all.” His eyes strayed to her face, then he shook his head. “I take it the skin color and tattoo are part of the dreams?” He hated that she was so affected. It seemed wrong, and cruel, to have to dream it, and have it also physically affect her.
“And, by the way, the dreams are stupid if they think you’re a damsel. I bet you’ll return the favor, sooner or later.”
Neena nodded. “Yeah. I was born this color and the tattoo came from the government agency that created me. So that’s a cheerful thing I’ll get to see in the mirror for the rest of my goddamned life.” She huffed, her revulsion and shock turning to anger. She slammed her fist on the shower floor, wincing when it made impact. That wasn’t going to do her any good.
“Well, maybe not. We could see if a cosmetic surgeon, dreamer or not, could fix it. Or for that matter, of the doc could whammy it, if you like.” He didn’t want her to have to face things she didn’t want to.
Nathan winced, then sighed. “If you want, we can spar, and you can beat the shit out of me, after this?”
“No, fuck it. I ought to have something to show for this shit.” Some sort of physical scar to mark the loss of her sanity and ability to deal with life. She rose slowly, shutting the shower off. “I don’t want to beat you up. I just want the dreams to fuck off.” She met his eye for the first time. The feelings she felt were too heavy, to large for her to deal with. “God I think I’m going to puke again.”
“Okay.” Nathan nodded, and then rose with her. “Whatever works for you.” He smiled softly, then lunged and grabbed the wastebasket, bringing it around for her, offering her an arm to support her, even as he did so.
“We can get you some water after this.”
Neena took the basket and stepped out, leaning on the bathroom sink. After a couple dry heaves she was feeling more intense emotions, larger than she’d felt in a long time. She dropped the basket and dropped her head, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a sob. She didn’t know if she was crying because she was sad, disgusted, angry, or afraid. Maybe it was a mix of all three. All she knew was that one sob opened the flood gates and the feelings all but knocked her on her ass.
Nathan tentatively wrapped an arm around her, and gently pulled her close, letting her free of she needed to be, or holding her if that worked, worried, angry, and wishing he could help, somehow, some way. All he could do for now was be here, and so he was.
At first she stiffened at his touch, but she knew him by his scent and the way his skin felt by then. Her body melded into his and she cried on his chest until there was nothing left inside her. Then she just stayed there, breathing his scent and shivering.
Nathan held her close, and just stroked her back, her hair, letting her do as she needed. He murmured to her, soft words, gentle ones, not really saying anything much, but speaking and making sure she knew he was there.
“I hate the dreams,” she eventually said, slowly pulling away from Nate. “I hate them so much.” She turned toward the sink and rinsed her face and mouth. When she looked up she saw her reflection and winced. “I look like a skeleton.”
“You and me both.” He sighed and watched her go. If he could have hit the person who did this to her, he would have, and not held back. He shook his head. “Not that bad. Bad, but not that bad.” But he still went on. “Now you know why I freaked out. It wasn’t the skin color… it was you looking like a prisoner of war.”
Neena shivered again. “I was held for a year. It's not the same but it's not that different.” She looked away from the mirror and turned to Nate again. “I think if that guy shows up here I'm going to murder him.” she said it with no real inflection. This was the first time she'd truly considered killing someone. It was surprisingly easy.
Nathan nodded, face closing up as he took that in, the he sighed. “It's close enough indeed.” He nodded at her words. “I'll hold your jacket when you do.”
For him, out was that simple. Someone had hurt Neena, even if just in the dreams.And he'd make sure they never had the chance to do so again.
Neena nodded and took a deep breath. “We should eat before I waste away anymore.” She looked down at her soaking clothes. “After I change.” ”
Nathan nodded, smiled, and offered her his arm. “We've got steak left over, so that'll be a good start.” He'd work on getting more into her later.
Neena took his arm, trying her best not to compare her frail, pale arm to his. “sounds good. After that I might just relax for the day. I'm already exhausted.”
Nathan nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Rest is good for you.” Especially now. And he would help her make an appointment for the next day, once she was up to it. Somehow, they’d get through this. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”
“Thanks.” She offered Nate a wan smile, then stripped her shirt off. “Might as well see the rest.” She was covered in minor abrasions, mostly bruises and a few scrapes. She sighed and frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know any words vile enough for Tolliver right now.”
Nathan nodded, examining her, and shook his head as well. “I ever see him, he won’t see me.” There was raw emotion there for a moment, before he dialed it back, and offered her a smile softly. “For now, we should focus on getting you back to fighting strength and weight, for you and for the kidlet. And once you are, we’ll make sure he can’t ever touch you.” Nathan knew some people, he could make sure, and would make sure, that they had feelers out for this Tolliver bastard.
Neena nodded and shucked her pants off carefully, setting the dirty pajamas in the proper hamper. Her legs were in the same shape, with obvious red marks at ankles and wrists from where she’d been bound. She didn’t look down again. Though her movements were robotic and forced she managed to get fresh clothes on and a brush through her hair before starting for the kitchen.
Nathan was there, dressing himself as well, and then following her, not quite hovering, but near. When they got to the kitchen, he took over, waving her to a seat and making them both steak sandwiches, and making sure hers was exactly as she liked it. He poured them both hot apple ciders, which, while not alcoholic, at least had a sting to them.
“Here we go. Try to eat, if you can.”
He felt conflicted and angry, and unsure, but he was trying to push it all to the side to be there for her.
Despite her weight Neena wasn’t terribly hungry. She picked at her food, managing a few bites and half her glass of cider before she gave up. “Thanks. That was pretty good. I’ll save the rest for later.” She got up and put her sandwich in the fridge, doing her best to hold herself together.
“Okay.” He finished his, then rose. “Do you want company as you rest, or would you rather I make myself absent?” He didn’t want to crowd her, and wanted to help, but he had no idea how.
How did one help someone who had gone through what she had? Fuck if he knew.
Neena turned to Nate, blinking a little. “Oh shit, I didn’t even think about how you’re feeling. Fuck. Are you okay?” Having something else to worry about was much more appealing than thinking about her own problems.
Nathan flushed, and shook his head. “Just angry I don’t know how to help, and wishing I could. Wishing I knew anything to help, really.” He nudged her. “You’re the one who’s been through shit. Don’t worry about me.” He offered her a half-smile, half-frown. “You’re important to me.”
“You’re important to me too. I’m sorry for dumping all this on you.” She leaned against the counter and rubbed her face. “Fuck I’m tired. Stupid dreams always fuck with my sleep.”
“Not your fault.” He gently squeezed her shoulder. He nodded. “Sleep is probably the best medicine right now. Come on. I’ll sing you to sleep.” He teased her a little.
Neena chuckled and gave Nate a small smile. “I'm gonna hold you to that, smart ass.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “It better be a nice song, too.”
Nathan chuckled. “It will be, sillybutt.” He chuckled as he smirked. “Come on. Sleep.” He squeezed her hand, and then scooped her up in his arms.
FIN