28 Days Later fic: Four
Title: Four
Words: 598
Rating: PG
Summary: After they settle the house, Hannah tries to settle her mind.
i.
Hannah teaches Jim how to sew.
He's not very good at it, at first, but he's a pretty fast learner. He just never has enough patience to sit still for a lesson. Selena knows the basics of mending clothing, so she's fine on her own; she fervently begins their project. They have sheets from houses they've raided, plus whatever useless garments they could find.
Selena wants to save the red dresses for last.
Hannah wants to burn them, but they need the fabric, so she keeps quiet.
ii.
About a week after they settle into the countryside house, Jim starts getting headaches. Selena offers him pills - nine times out of ten, he takes them.
Ever since the night they escaped the bunker, Hannah's stayed away from pills and drugs. Though they take her mind off of things, she never really remembers much when she uses them, and doesn't feel quite right afterwards. Even in a more secluded area with little to no infected, she likes to always have her wits about her. Just in case.
And though it's been a while since they've encountered an infected she still wakes up in the middle of the night, hot and sweating and trying to forget the mindless red stare haunting her mind.
iii.
The closest thing Hannah's ever had to a sister was her mom, really. She got on alright with kids in school but she never really bonded over things with them like she did with her mom. After the initial breakout, though, she's left with little family to speak of - and then none at all.
She knows that Selena and Jim miss her dad too, sometimes, but they all know it's not the same. Her family's gone. Before it can really sink in that her father's dead she feels alone, more alone than she's ever felt before.
But then, one evening after a particularly violent nightmare, she runs crying to Selena’s side (they sleep in the same room, still, just for comfort) and the woman holds her until the sobbing stops and her breathing returns to normal.
Selena’s not her mother - Hannah’s mother is dead, she died ages ago - and anyways, she doesn’t quite feel like a mother. She feels like what Hannah imagines a sister would feel like.
iv.
Hannah wonders how long they will stay there. Logic says as long as it’s safe here and dangerous elsewhere, which could be forever. The countryside is beautiful and she never really was fond of the city, but she grows restless. She wants to roam the world. She wants to travel and learn and explore. As much as she loves Selena and Jim, she wants to meet other people and she wants to fall in love with every one of them.
She has to be careful with these thoughts; let them grow and prosper and she’ll never get herself back. She’ll go mad for sure. Some days the house and the wild expanses of grass is enough. Some days she wants to run until nothing looks familiar. She wants to run until she can’t stand up.
A lot of thoughts are dangerous, she comes to understand, but none are more dangerous than when she wonders if she even survived the infection at all. Sometimes the tendrils of doubt are intoxicating with their persuasion, worming through her mind and planting rotten seeds of doubt. What if none of them survived? What if she’s suspended in a permanent dream, just realistic enough to wrap her mind around?
On her worst days, she can’t find anything wrong with that.
*
Words: 598
Rating: PG
Summary: After they settle the house, Hannah tries to settle her mind.
i.
Hannah teaches Jim how to sew.
He's not very good at it, at first, but he's a pretty fast learner. He just never has enough patience to sit still for a lesson. Selena knows the basics of mending clothing, so she's fine on her own; she fervently begins their project. They have sheets from houses they've raided, plus whatever useless garments they could find.
Selena wants to save the red dresses for last.
Hannah wants to burn them, but they need the fabric, so she keeps quiet.
ii.
About a week after they settle into the countryside house, Jim starts getting headaches. Selena offers him pills - nine times out of ten, he takes them.
Ever since the night they escaped the bunker, Hannah's stayed away from pills and drugs. Though they take her mind off of things, she never really remembers much when she uses them, and doesn't feel quite right afterwards. Even in a more secluded area with little to no infected, she likes to always have her wits about her. Just in case.
And though it's been a while since they've encountered an infected she still wakes up in the middle of the night, hot and sweating and trying to forget the mindless red stare haunting her mind.
iii.
The closest thing Hannah's ever had to a sister was her mom, really. She got on alright with kids in school but she never really bonded over things with them like she did with her mom. After the initial breakout, though, she's left with little family to speak of - and then none at all.
She knows that Selena and Jim miss her dad too, sometimes, but they all know it's not the same. Her family's gone. Before it can really sink in that her father's dead she feels alone, more alone than she's ever felt before.
But then, one evening after a particularly violent nightmare, she runs crying to Selena’s side (they sleep in the same room, still, just for comfort) and the woman holds her until the sobbing stops and her breathing returns to normal.
Selena’s not her mother - Hannah’s mother is dead, she died ages ago - and anyways, she doesn’t quite feel like a mother. She feels like what Hannah imagines a sister would feel like.
iv.
Hannah wonders how long they will stay there. Logic says as long as it’s safe here and dangerous elsewhere, which could be forever. The countryside is beautiful and she never really was fond of the city, but she grows restless. She wants to roam the world. She wants to travel and learn and explore. As much as she loves Selena and Jim, she wants to meet other people and she wants to fall in love with every one of them.
She has to be careful with these thoughts; let them grow and prosper and she’ll never get herself back. She’ll go mad for sure. Some days the house and the wild expanses of grass is enough. Some days she wants to run until nothing looks familiar. She wants to run until she can’t stand up.
A lot of thoughts are dangerous, she comes to understand, but none are more dangerous than when she wonders if she even survived the infection at all. Sometimes the tendrils of doubt are intoxicating with their persuasion, worming through her mind and planting rotten seeds of doubt. What if none of them survived? What if she’s suspended in a permanent dream, just realistic enough to wrap her mind around?
On her worst days, she can’t find anything wrong with that.
*