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Post by Natalie Blake on Aug 13, 2010 11:14:38 GMT -5
Infected
Natalie Fairholm
Natalie wasn't one to get angry. In fact, she was a fairly non-violent person in general. Usually. But for whatever the reason, the last few days hadn't been treating her well. She constantly felt stressed and wound up, but wasn't able to find any way to come back down. It was getting harder and harder to sleep, food didn't seem appealing anymore, and she was getting frustrated over the stupidest little things.
She was yelling at people, too, and she didn't yell. Raised voices tended to bother her, as a point of fact. But she couldn't seem to stop herself. In fact, it was her chewing people out that had sent her running to hide in her room. The fact that she was yelling could be chocked up to a bad day or something, but she'd shouted at Will. At Will. What could have possibly brought her to sink that low?
And it was over the most harmless thing, too. All he'd done was asked if she was feeling okay, and she'd snapped. The startled look in his eyes had brought her to her senses long enough to make a break for it, but now that she was alone in her room she could feel the anger still idling inside her. All she wanted was to break things and scream until she felt like herself again.
Unable to lie still any longer, Natalie pushed herself off her bed and went over to her closet to change into her nightclothes. As soon as the door had opened, however, she found herself ripping hangers down and whipping them across the room, chucking them as hard as she could at anything and everything. When she was out of hangers she turned to grab shoes, tossing them instead.
She'd practically emptied her entire closet by the time she came across a box of her old things, and that was where she stopped. She couldn't break anything in there. It was all from her childhood, from her parents. Sinking to her knees, she pulled the lid off and stared down at the box's contents, fighting off the sudden and irrational urge to cry. What's happening to me?
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Post by William Blake on Aug 13, 2010 11:32:37 GMT -5
Will was worried about Natalie. Usually, she was a very calm person, he was the one that did the shouting, and scared people into doing the job that they were supposed to do. But over the past few days, Natalie had taken up that role, and he had been the calm one - it was like the universe was suddenly upside-down, it wasnt right. Eventually, he'd had to ask if she was okay, and she'd practically screamed at him before looking horrifed and running off.
He was accustomed to worse, the startled look had been because he hadn't been expecting it for her. Although, saying that exact sentence never really ended well. He'd sat for a couple of minutes, wondering whether to go after her not, then had decided he couldn't not. He had to know if she was okay. This was completely out of character, and he needed to know what was wrong.
Will made his way towards the sleeping quarters, leaving engineering in Tayze's capable hands, figuring that was where Natalie would have gone. He stepped into the common room and heard noises coming from her room. Was she throwing stuff? It was hard to tell, as there weren't any crashes or bangs particularly. He knocked on the door, but got no response. Then he heard something smash, and quickly opened the door.
Everything went white, and for a moment, Will wondered if Natalie had smacked him one and knocked him unconscious. But, as he realised that he was still standing, and blinked hard, he let a chuckle slip. Pulling the white t-shirt from his head so he could see, he looked around at the disarray that was now Natalie's room. It had looked a lot tidier the last time he'd been in here. Natalie was sitting on the floor in front of the wardrobe, her eyes large and shining. Was she crying?
Will slipped down onto his knees behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Natalie," he said, running his hand down to her arm, giving it a squeeze, "what's the matter?" |
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Post by Natalie Blake on Aug 13, 2010 12:13:30 GMT -5
Pictures of Bill and Elaine smiled up from inside the box, pictures of Natalie as a little girl. Pictures of old cars her dad had rebuilt, of her Impala. So many pictures. So much emotion behind all of them. Her head felt close to exploding from the warring nostalgia and anger inside of her, and it was impossible to tell which one was winning. She was fairly sure it was the latter.
Only distantly did she register that her door had hissed open, and so when a hand came to rest on her shoulder she jerked reflexively and spun around to see who was next to her. She met Will's worried face with wild eyes, and only managed to calm herself somewhat when he spoke again. "I... nothing. I'm fine," she lied.
Lying to Will disagreed with her, but she didn't want him to be worried about her right now. Not when she wasn't sure what was going on. She had to deal with this alone. Didn't she? Closing her eyes for a moment and turning her head away from him, she then opened them to meet the disarray of her clothes chucked around her room behind her. Did I really do that?
"Sorry for yelling at you," she said after a moment, getting up to go and collect her things and put them away and studiously avoiding his eyes as she did so. She wandered over to her bedside table, and, spying a picture frame lying face-down on the floor, she bent down to pick it up. She ran her fingers across the cracked glass that covered her parents' faces, ignoring the tingling pain as the sharp edges sliced her fingertips.
Inexplicably, the sight of them grinning, of them looking happy, brought her rage bubbling to the surface again and she got to her feet only to throw the picture at the wall. She watched with emotionless eyes as the glass shatter and fell to the floor, the wooden frame following only seconds after. There was no remorse over the ruined photo, only a sick satisfaction. Not smiling now, are you? |
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Post by William Blake on Aug 13, 2010 12:39:50 GMT -5
Will saw right through her lie. Of course she wasn't fine; her room was trashed and she looked like she was about to start howling with tears. He hadn't meant to scare her, he hadn't realised how engrossed she'd been in looking at the box of her old family stuff. The lie was to get rid of him, but he had no intention of going anywhere. You don't walk out on those that you care about.
"You're not fine," he said, "and it's all right. It takes a lot more than you shouting at me to put a dent in my armour." Staying where he was, he watched as she moved about the room, unsure as to what she was about to do next. It seemed like she was just trying to distract herself, clearing up the room, but then she stopped, silent, picking up the frame.
Blood dripped from her finger onto the floor, with immediately made Will feel uneasy. "What are you-?" She hurled the photo at the wall, and Will instinctively ducked, bringing his arm up to protect his face. Unfortunately, he hadn't moved quickly enough, some of the shards of glass ricocheting off the floor, cutting his skin. He cursed, then looked back round at Natalie, the look on her face was frightening.
Hastily, Will climbed to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Natalie," he said, shaking her lightly, "what is wrong with you?" He was really worried now, something was very wrong. "We should get you to the medical bay," to bandage up her fingers if nothing else. He would throw her over his shoulder and carry her there if he had to. |
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Post by Natalie Blake on Aug 13, 2010 17:04:08 GMT -5
What are you doing? It was what Will had been trying to ask before Natalie had chucked the picture at the wall, and what was running through her own head. What the freaking hell was she doing?! She gasped as the glass sliced into his arms, her eyes widening and her hands flying up to cover her mouth. This wasn't like her, not at all.
The tears returned again, and this time she didn't bother to stop them as Will came over to grip her by the shoulders. She shook her head at him frantically, gripping his shirt with shaking hands. "Will, I don't know what's happening to me," she whispered fearfully, her voice cracking as she choked back a sob. "I... I don't feel right. Please... help me. Make it stop. God, I just want it to stop..."
Natalie's fists tightened convulsively, and she struggled with the compulsion to wrap her hands around his throat. Oh Christ, what's wrong with me?! As fast as she could she scrambled away from him, tripping over the clothes and shoes littering the floor. Hitting her bed she crawled back on in and curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her nails dug into her arms and cut the skin, drawing blood, but she knew that if she let go she'd start throwing things again.
Something was wrong with her. Something was seriously wrong with her. It scared her. And yet all the fear did was make the anger and frustration stronger, made her more and more dangerous for him to be around. Her entire body was shaking with sobs and everything was blurry from the tears pooled in her eyes, but she managed to blink them away and look up and meet Will's anxious gaze.
"What's happening to me?" Natalie asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his despairingly. And then she buried her face in her knees, because she knew he had no answer for her. |
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Post by William Blake on Aug 13, 2010 17:21:58 GMT -5
Will had just as much, if less, comprehension about what was going on here. The look in her eyes was beginning to tear at his heartstrings - she was so helpless, caught in the grips of something she didn't understand and couldn't control. Will didn't want to even begin to think what this could be, but it certainly wasn't anything to do with Natalie herself. There must be something in her system, making her do this.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he said, stroking the tears from her face, "I'm going to figure this out, okay?" Her voice cracked, and he felt his own eyes sting - he wouldn't allow any tears to form though. He had to be strong for her. "I promise." He wouldn't stop until he figured out what was wrong with Natalie.
She tore herself away from his grasp, curling up in the bed, doing even more damage to her beautiful body. He couldn't stand it anymore. Swiftly, he walked over to the bed and lifted her up with one arm, holding both of her hands in the other. He could take any pain that she dished out, his main concern was getting her to the medical bay before she did more damage than they could repair.
"I've got you," he said, jogging from the room. As he ran, he kept a tight grip on her, determined not to let her escape. He would get her sedated, which was the safest thing for her, then he would work on figuring out what was going on. He would help her, he wouldn't lose her. |
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Post by Natalie Blake on Aug 13, 2010 21:30:23 GMT -5
Natalie had to force herself not to attack Will when he grabbed her, or to struggle as he ran with her to med bay. It was an uncomfortably difficult feat. All her instincts screamed out to lash out, to get him out of the way and then run--but they weren't even her instincts anymore. There was something in her blood, something that was trying to get her to do things she didn't want to do.
It's Will. It's the man you've given your heart to. You don't want to hurt him. You can't. If you do, you'll never forgive yourself. But just because all of that was true didn't make it any easier to resist. In fact, it almost made it harder. She tried not to think too much, to just drift until she was safe again, but it was impossible. Her head was now a foreign and frightening place, not the safe refuge she usually used to escape the world when it got too messed-up to stay in any longer. No, this time the problem was inside with her, and there was no hiding or running away from it.
And so instead Natalie forced herself to focus on becoming completely impassive, compelling her body to relax. It caused her actual physical pain to do it, but she clenched her teeth tightly and suffered through it. When her head fell weakly to rest against Will's shoulder, her forehead touched his neck briefly and his skin felt practically glacial against hers. That didn't bode well.
"It hurts," a voice whimpered. It was hers, and, as it would turn out, it was right. All her muscles ached from her forcing them to remain still, and her stomach felt like it had been clamped in a vice-like grip. At least she hadn't eaten anything lately. And when had she started panting? Because she was definitely panting now, her chest heaving as she sucked in short bursts of oxygen that made her lungs throb.
I love you, Will. And I'm so sorry, Natalie tried to say. But her breathing had escalated again and made it impossible to speak. Her eyes were trying to close on her, and she knew that if she wasn't careful she was going to pass out. Actually, that might be better. Then she couldn't hurt Will again. |
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