[Fic] Enough is Not the Same
She couldn't sleep well. She just never could, it wasn't something that happened to her. Restful sleep was something for other people, not for tiny broken Rakshasa with a hell of a past behind them and no real future in front of them.
She was locked up. She couldn't reach out, couldn't say anything or see anything and it was terrifying. She'd pace, back and forth, back and forth, barely hearing the words that Mattie said to her as she paced and watched the door. Something was going to come through the door. Something was going to come through and take her back--they always did, coldbloods with icy hands and stinging fingers, dragging her back to freezing needles and shocks and shocks. Someone was coming for her. Someone was coming.
It was Him. Maybe it was him--that name, something in the back of her head that niggled around and told her, spoke his words and made her stop sometimes. She was angry and she wouldn't listen to him no matter what. She had a new voice now, something she could listen to and hold onto. Mattie wouldn't shock her. Mattie would let her stay, so long as she did what he said and didn't do anything dumb. Mattie knew her. Mattie got it. Mattie understood. He knew she had to kill. She was safe with him--he would protect her from everyone else, the people knocking at the door, fleshy humans with sirens and guns. She didn't like guns--too loud, like the noise in her ears when she was being shocked. It wasn't going to work like that. It wasn't going to work.
Still. Scout paced every night, back and forth, back and forth. The door, the door, something was coming to the door and she could feel it, no matter how many times Mattie put his arm on hers and tried to drag her to bed. She snapped--didn't mean it, but he didn't understand. She flashed her teeth at him and he backed off, a taste of his own medicine fresh in his mouth. She didn't like to make him afraid. She just needed to protect him. That was all. That was all.
No one came. She wouldn't sleep, she was so determined that someone was coming to get them both but no one ever came and so she would sit at the base of the door and press her forehead against it, daring them. She wasn't there. They could waltz right in and then she would get them and then she could go to sleep again.
Mattie tried to pick her up, tried to drag her to bed. She snapped again, snarled, but he wouldn't let go. He kept saying things, things that didn't make sense to her. Stop. She couldn't stop, she couldn't go back. She wasn't going to. She struggled, managed to escape and went back to the door. Someone was coming. Someone was coming for her.
No one was coming. They were biding their time, watching her through the windows. Doing something to the air. Mattie was paler, drawn out--his grip got weaker, but he couldn't be allowed to leave, no matter how much he shook. She wasn't afraid. She was angry. She wasn't going back.
Back and forth, back and forth. The beat in the back of her head was rising--she could get them, she could get them. Matt moaned at her--he didn't understand, they were killing him some how from the outside. She had to get them. She stood on her tip-toes, peered outside. They were there. She knew they were there, she could feel them, could see them, and then there was a hand on her shoulder.
Scout snarled, whirled around and tackled her assailant with as much force as she could. Her teeth gnashed--she was stronger than them, growling without even looking and reaching scrabbled hands to grab at a throat, break them, bite them, kill. Matt whimpered under her hands as she swiftly broke his arm fighting to get to his neck, rolled over and kicked out at her and then it began to rain. She could hear them, in the pitter patter on the windows and she knew it was time.
The neighbors would call the police and report that they saw a tiny girl with wings flying out of the third-story window, glass clawing at her skin--or maybe she was clawing at the glass. One man claimed it wasn't a girl, it was more like a catbeast or something. Definitely not human were his words. Scout, though, just lay among the trash bags, black blood soaking the bottom of the dumpster, whimpering. They had her. They had tricked her and here she was again, freezing water and the shock in the air, the sound of static in the air and a soft breathing as hands wrapped around her and lifted her, wincing in pain from a twisted limb, out of the dumpster. Warm hands. Wrong. Not Him. Her Mattie. Taking her back to be human again.
Muse: Scout
Word count: 837 words
Prompt: "I'm locked up in a room and I can't get out. Because I've been locked up in this room so long whatever desires are arising in me are rampaging around everywhere as wild and fierce and monstrous as gigantic starving jungle beasts." -Kathy Acker for sighofthings
She was locked up. She couldn't reach out, couldn't say anything or see anything and it was terrifying. She'd pace, back and forth, back and forth, barely hearing the words that Mattie said to her as she paced and watched the door. Something was going to come through the door. Something was going to come through and take her back--they always did, coldbloods with icy hands and stinging fingers, dragging her back to freezing needles and shocks and shocks. Someone was coming for her. Someone was coming.
It was Him. Maybe it was him--that name, something in the back of her head that niggled around and told her, spoke his words and made her stop sometimes. She was angry and she wouldn't listen to him no matter what. She had a new voice now, something she could listen to and hold onto. Mattie wouldn't shock her. Mattie would let her stay, so long as she did what he said and didn't do anything dumb. Mattie knew her. Mattie got it. Mattie understood. He knew she had to kill. She was safe with him--he would protect her from everyone else, the people knocking at the door, fleshy humans with sirens and guns. She didn't like guns--too loud, like the noise in her ears when she was being shocked. It wasn't going to work like that. It wasn't going to work.
Still. Scout paced every night, back and forth, back and forth. The door, the door, something was coming to the door and she could feel it, no matter how many times Mattie put his arm on hers and tried to drag her to bed. She snapped--didn't mean it, but he didn't understand. She flashed her teeth at him and he backed off, a taste of his own medicine fresh in his mouth. She didn't like to make him afraid. She just needed to protect him. That was all. That was all.
No one came. She wouldn't sleep, she was so determined that someone was coming to get them both but no one ever came and so she would sit at the base of the door and press her forehead against it, daring them. She wasn't there. They could waltz right in and then she would get them and then she could go to sleep again.
Mattie tried to pick her up, tried to drag her to bed. She snapped again, snarled, but he wouldn't let go. He kept saying things, things that didn't make sense to her. Stop. She couldn't stop, she couldn't go back. She wasn't going to. She struggled, managed to escape and went back to the door. Someone was coming. Someone was coming for her.
No one was coming. They were biding their time, watching her through the windows. Doing something to the air. Mattie was paler, drawn out--his grip got weaker, but he couldn't be allowed to leave, no matter how much he shook. She wasn't afraid. She was angry. She wasn't going back.
Back and forth, back and forth. The beat in the back of her head was rising--she could get them, she could get them. Matt moaned at her--he didn't understand, they were killing him some how from the outside. She had to get them. She stood on her tip-toes, peered outside. They were there. She knew they were there, she could feel them, could see them, and then there was a hand on her shoulder.
Scout snarled, whirled around and tackled her assailant with as much force as she could. Her teeth gnashed--she was stronger than them, growling without even looking and reaching scrabbled hands to grab at a throat, break them, bite them, kill. Matt whimpered under her hands as she swiftly broke his arm fighting to get to his neck, rolled over and kicked out at her and then it began to rain. She could hear them, in the pitter patter on the windows and she knew it was time.
The neighbors would call the police and report that they saw a tiny girl with wings flying out of the third-story window, glass clawing at her skin--or maybe she was clawing at the glass. One man claimed it wasn't a girl, it was more like a catbeast or something. Definitely not human were his words. Scout, though, just lay among the trash bags, black blood soaking the bottom of the dumpster, whimpering. They had her. They had tricked her and here she was again, freezing water and the shock in the air, the sound of static in the air and a soft breathing as hands wrapped around her and lifted her, wincing in pain from a twisted limb, out of the dumpster. Warm hands. Wrong. Not Him. Her Mattie. Taking her back to be human again.
Muse: Scout
Word count: 837 words
Prompt: "I'm locked up in a room and I can't get out. Because I've been locked up in this room so long whatever desires are arising in me are rampaging around everywhere as wild and fierce and monstrous as gigantic starving jungle beasts." -Kathy Acker for sighofthings