[Chloe] Basking in the Sun
Who: Chloe Sullivan
Where: Camp Crash
When: Day 22, all day
Invited: Open
Status: Complete [Closed]
Dinner the night before had been uncomfortable.
( Chloe waited impatiently for sunrise. )
Where: Camp Crash
When: Day 22, all day
Invited: Open
Status: Complete [Closed]
Dinner the night before had been uncomfortable.
( Chloe waited impatiently for sunrise. )
While she went about her morning chores, gathering fruit, cleaning fish and inventorying the supplies that Faith and George brought from the bunker up north, Carrie kept casting glances in the direction of Chloe. The woman - and as the day wound on, it grew easier to think of Chloe as a woman more than twice her age and not her peer - didn't even budge when Sue took her food. Evidently nearly comatose-skin-cancer-inviting-sunbathing was more than a ten-year-old girl could understand or comprehend because Sue left after a few failed attempts to get Chloe to eat.
"Could be worse," Sawyer observed as he claimed a bottle of water and followed Carrie's gaze down the beach. "She could weigh about five hundred pounds and have warts. I've seen it. Almost enough to make a man go celibate."
Carrie looked up with a scowl and immediately regretted it. She was only playing into Sawyer's hands and it made her feel like she'd lost a battle. Still once she made eye contact with the man, she had to say her piece. "You're a pig, Sawyer. Don't you have any sympathy at all? ¡Perdida todo!." In her frustration, her native tongue slipped through and Carrie heaved a sigh. "Sala, Sawyer. Just go away."
"Let me let you in on a little secret, J. Lo," Sawyer slowly twisted the cap off of the bottle of water. "Little Miss Methuselah over there ain't the only one who's lost everything. We're all pretty much stuck here, and we ain't got much either."
"You still have your looks."
"Glad you noticed," Sawyer took a long drink of the bottle, then lifting it in a salute turned and walked away from her.
Carrie glared at his back, wondering why it hadn't been him instead of Chloe who got rapidly age. She promptly felt guilty. Not for the thought, but for not feeling guilty for the thought.
Grabbing a bottle of water and a handful of fruit, Carrie headed off to Chloe's sunbathing spot. It was well on past lunch and the woman needed to eat, and rehydrate, and probably - despite her protest - a fresh application of sunscreen.
Reaching Chloe's side, Carrie pulled up short and blinked in surprise. Chloe was younger.
(No, no. That's just not possible,) Carrie corrected the thought immediately. This place may have been home to weirdness, but she was imagining things about Chloe. Mas optimismo as her abuela would say. It was the sunlight and the softness of Chloe's face, the pure joy the woman got from bathing in the sun that made her appear younger. Up close and personal it was clear that Chloe was just as old as Carrie's abuela.
"Chloe," Carrie called quietly. "I bought you some water and fruit. And I thought that maybe a little -" Carrie stopped and blinked. This time she wasn't imagining things. After all the time Chloe had been in the sun, her fair, tender old skin hadn't turned the slightest bit pink. No pinkness, no redness . . . and no bronze. It was as though Chloe was simply absorbing the sun.
(Now who's spent too much time in the sun?) Carrie chastised herself.
Still, as she leaned down and shook Chloe gently by the shoulder, feeling only warm skin where the skin should have been baking, she couldn't push back the thought of, (What did those things really do to you, Chloe?)
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She'd been lying in the sunlight for many hours now. She could track the movement of the sun by the direction from which the light shone through her eyelids. Chloe had been distantly aware of Sue's visit but too focused on the sun to respond to the girl's attempts to rouse her. The feel of the sunlight raining down on her skin, seeping into her flesh, was too powerful to ignore. It felt too good.
It felt really good. Chloe had had sex that didn't feel this good. She knew something strange was happening to her. She wasn't stupid, or oblivious to the sudden changes in her behavior. Her newfound addiction to sunbathing had to mean something. She just didn't know what.
It wasn't just about the pleasure, though the pleasure was reason enough to indulge herself. She didn't just crave the feel of the sunlight on her skin. She needed it in some way she couldn't yet identify. The sunlight rained down on her skin, seeping into her flesh and pooling somewhere within her, filling reservoirs she'd never known she had-that, perhaps, she'd never had before.
Chloe could feel it happening. She still hungered for the feel of the sun on her skin, but the hunger wasn't all-consuming any longer. It wasn't insatiable after all. It had diminished. There was an endpoint, a moment in time when she'd have had enough.
Which is why she was able to respond to Carrie.
Chloe turned her head away from the sun and opened her eyes. “Thanks,” she rasped, her voice rusty with disuse. Chloe cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said again, “but I'm really not hungry. Or thirsty.” She cleared her throat again. “Well, maybe a little thirsty.”
“You're not the slightest bit pink,” Carrie said, handing Chloe a bottle of water. “You've been out her for hours now. You should be red as a lobster by now.”
Chloe took a drink and realized she was a little thirsty after all. She drained the bottle in short order. When she handed it back to Carrie, she saw Carrie watching her with a carefully neutral expression. “What is it?” Chloe asked.
“What's happening to you, Chloe?” Carrie asked softly.
“I...don't know,” Chloe admitted. “But I think....” she trailed off, wondering about it.
“But you think what?”
Chloe looked at Carrie with hope in her eyes for the first time since the wraith attack. “Something wonderful.”
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The (now) old woman had resumed her sunbathing after a brief conversation with Carrie. Culsu rubbed her hand thoughtfully, remembering the unexpected electric snap of her Quickening reacting to Chloe's skin.
(What the hell is happening with her?) Was it a normal consequence of having your life force sucked out of you by the Wraith? Would the others have had the same kind of effect on her if they'd lived? That was a frightening thought.
"She's not going to hurt you again."
Culsu started and turned to see Walt standing nearby. He was trying unsuccessfully to get the stick away from Vincent, who was taking the opportunity to play tug-of-war. "What?"
"It's only temporary," Walt said in his matter of fact manner. "She's getting ready," Walt said, as if it should be obvious. "She has to replace what the wraiths stole."
Vincent surrendered the stick.
"Do you know what you're talking about?" Culsu asked. Walt's oracular announcements generally weren't as cryptic as River's, but he could still be maddeningly indirect.
"Of course!" Walt said, looking annoyed, if not offended.
"That's all right, then," Sue said.
"Cat's eyes," Walt said, and threw the stick. Vincent took off in a spray of loose white sand.
"What?" Chloe's eyes were green, but they hardly qualified as cat's eyes.
"When she has cat's eyes, she'll be safe."
"'Okay, then. Important safety tip. Thanks, Egon.'"
"My name's not Egon," Walt said. Culsu rolled her eyes. And just like that Walt was just another kid again. She didn't bother trying to pump him for more hints. The window of opportunity had passed for now.
Vincent raced up to them with the stick.
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