[Home Plot] Sticks and Stones, Pt. IV

[manwithoutfear]

In a word, I wake up violently.

I can't pull in enough air, can't breathe, each inhale a gasp. My throat feels like sandpaper when I dare to swallow. Limbs tangled in my sheets, I roll from the bed onto the ground with a dull thud -- only to realize everything's dulled. My ears are stuffed with cotton and my hands are bone dry, the world around me dark and flat.

It was all a dream. The Hand, Bullseye, Foggy... All of it. It never happened. We never even left the room. My God, the baby-- Is Ellen even--?

The world tilts. I spit out a sound that's part sob, part yell, and punch the floor, once, with everything I'm worth.

It's not enough.

Comments

[shewaswarned]

Ellen wakes up similarly, but with a gasp that punctuates her sitting upright in bed, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

A loud crash has her whirling in the direction of the sound, and she barely makes out the slump of Matt's shoulders in the dim morning light before she scrambles to the foot of the bed, sliding off and onto the floor to wrap her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his shoulder.

"I'm right here," she whispers, breathing against his skin. "I'm right here, Matt. Just breathe with me."

[manwithoutfear]

The dream wasn't real, but my body hasn't caught up with my brain. I'm shaking with adrenaline, my breath a short staccato. Ellen's presence should come as comfort, but I'm stupidly left to wonder why I can't hear her anymore.

I slump forward, not daring to give her my weight, and gasp, "We're back on the island?"

[shewaswarned]

"I - I think so," Ellen admits, a little reluctant to even say the words - but she's having mixed feelings about it all. Her heart's still galloping in her chest from the mere sight of seeing Matt plummet out that window, and her throat almost feels raw from the scream that had broken out despite her attempts to not draw any attention to herself. She's reassuring herself of his presence now, a hand moving over his back to soothe herself as much as him.

"It felt so real," she murmurs, and now she's trying to figure out if everything in the dream is real - including the discovery he'd made.

[manwithoutfear]

I'm tired of these mind games, my senses played against me until I'm so disoriented I'll accept any reality as truth. Swallowing back a mouthful of bile, I'm not even sure if I'm grateful or disappointed that Bullseye is still out there, knowing how close I came to killing him -- or thinking I could kill him. I try to steady myself, dragging my good hand across my face to clear some of the tears that've slipped through.

It takes me a few minutes, but once I think I can speak properly, I ask, "Are you okay?"

[shewaswarned]

"Yeah, I - I'm fine." It only occurs to her to consider everything in the scenario after she notices that her ankle isn't persisting in its dull throbbing anymore; the injury had only been fairly recently - or felt fairly recent - back there.

"No worse for the wear," she quietly promises.

[manwithoutfear]

My shoulder's fine, too, I realize. All the various aches and pains I've been carrying around the past few days gone all at once. Some part of me wonders if I wouldn't have preferred the pain to being stuck back here, awaiting the day Ellen or I disappears... And then I remember the blood-slicked pulp that was Bullseye's face under my hand, and think the relative safety of the Island might be worth the daily game of disappearance roulette. At least we're alone here, and safe, for some value of the word.

"We should get you to a doctor," I murmur, then reluctantly add, "And maybe check on the dog."

[shewaswarned]

"Oh, no, Zeus," she murmurs, sidestepping the mention of the doctor as she rises to her feet, one hand coursing through her hair. Whether it's denial or skepticism, she can't help but feel as if it can't possibly be real, this pregnancy. Maybe it's because she hasn't started showing any symptoms yet, but - she looks down to realize her hand has absently ghosted over her stomach and she immediately moves it away.

"I don't even know how long we were - I hope he's alright," she says, throwing open the bedroom door.

[manwithoutfear]

I try to think back to how long this phenomenon typically lasts for, but my thoughts are too scattered to remember. I follow after Ellen on wooden legs, flexing my bloody hand to make sure the only thing I damaged permanently is the floor.

"I'm sure he's okay."

If only to spite me.

[shewaswarned]

"Don't sound too thrilled about it," Ellen replies, shooting him a look that he can probably feel as she narrows her eyes at him. The relationship between Matt and the dog is a tentative one at best, but it'll be close to ruin if they come out and find the hut completely torn apart.

She catches a glimpse of his hand and moves to take it, gingerly holding his fingers to raise his knuckles up towards the light. "Oh, Matt."

[manwithoutfear]

"It's fine," I say, the response automatic to the point of reflex. Compared to the anxious knot in my stomach that wants to know whether or not what I heard is real, the hand barely registers.

"The floor isn't, but I'll get someone to come in and fix it."

[shewaswarned]

"The floor can wait too," she promises, gently holding his hand in her own. If she's going to the doctor, the very least she can do is insist that he get checked out too - even if the concept of doing so put her stomach in nervous knots.

She draws their hands down, stepping into his space, moving fingers to his cheek. "Hey."

[manwithoutfear]

I bow my head, leaning into her touch. I want to apologize for everything that did or didn't happen, but I can't find the words. I'm too stuck in my thoughts.

After a few moments, I swallow, throat thick.

"Come on."