Once upon a time, a little girl does her best to tune out an argument that's been going on as long as she can remember... This was back when she decided to just be quiet, which is what she's doing now; he's not talking so there's nothing to drown out the whispering - what are they fighting about now, it was never anything important or real, she thought sometimes they just liked to hear themselves.
(Still that taste in her mouth like stale breath, like who did you wake up with and where are you now, Sarah, who made you forget this time, how much did you drink; when you think of them you taste recycled wine sour on your lips)
Eden presses her lips together and keeps climbing, tugging at the back pocket of her jeans with one hand as she goes. Something small falls away into the darkness.
Then for a while there's just silence louder than bombs, louder than the screams of the dying, there's just little Sarah Ellis and the argument that never stops. Eden tries to close her ears; she's listening for something else. It doesn't come.
"Mohinder? I had a compact. In my back pocket." You know, that probably won't confuse him at all even without the time delay, Eden. "I dropped it about 10 minutes ago, I think. And...it hasn't hit the bottom yet."
On the upside she's, uh, not bleeding anymore.
"Also if I say anything really weird, just--it's--it's not you, it's me." Right, let's vague that up a little more, shall we? Just for fun.
The fact that he can actually hear this within (what seems to be, anyway) about five minutes or so is overjoying enough that he doesn't really even register what she's saying. He's half-forgotten that they're even trying to get somewhere; he's just been climbing down the ladder for as long as he can remember and he's fallen into a sort of rhythm with it.
Hearing her voice snaps him out of that a little bit, enough that he actually thinks about what she's saying, distracting himself--enough to misstep, for his foot to slip on the crumbling damp wood and slide off into space, for the rung his hands are clutching onto to snap neatly in half, pitching him backwards off the ladder into the complete absence of light, and his only coherent thought as his heart seems to completely shudder to a terrified halt is I'm going to be falling forever. Forever.
But he doesn't. It's only a matter of minutes before he lands on cold, rank, slimy tiles, knocking the wind out of him.
"Mohinder!" Screaming, by the way, is a lot less effective when the darkness around you completely swallows the sound. She's goddamn lucky he didn't knock her off of the ladder, but at this second this is absolutely no consolation whatsoever, Jesus - she can't see him, she didn't hear him land --
She'll scramble down as long as she has to, there has to be a bottom somewhere, there has to, she steps down, body tensing to go as fast as it can --
And the broken glass of what's left of her makeup mirror crunches underfoot, scratching damp stone tile with a sick scraping noise. And then? Then? Well, then Eden kind of freaks out, because she just can't not anymore. She drops to a crouch and feels around in the darkness, hands out in front of her. "Mohinder? I can't see, come on, say something--"
He coughs until he can speak. He's disoriented, but not concussed, or at least he thinks he's not.
"Eden? I--I'm all right--" He drags himself around on hands and knees, searching for her, but he can't get a handle on where she might be from the sound of her voice--it sounds frighteningly far away, but he doesn't know whether to trust that or not--
His shoulder collides with hers in the pitch-blackness, and he grabs onto her before he can lose her again. And then he's just grabbing onto her because...well, for christ's sake, just because.
For the record, Eden is competely bloody disgusting right now, in the literal sense! There's sticky gore drying in dark clots in the hollows of her collarbones, making her hair poke out at odd angles, smeared in splotches and swirls like Rorschach on her clothes. But as it's not coming out of her damn face anymore - for the moment - she'll accept that and just...cling mindlessly back.
"I'm hearing things," she mumbles into his shoulder, regardless of how damp with sweat and lord knows what else that shoulder is at the moment. Ever hear Eden sound embarrassed before, Mohinder? It's an novel experience, that. But she thinks she better tell him before she says anything really...crazy. Or crazier than she's starting to feel, anyway.
Mohinder does not want to let her be embarrassed about this, because for god's sake, everything this place is doing to them and she's still calmer than he is, still grounding him, still herself, at least mostly. He holds tight onto her, ignoring the blood completely in favor of nestling his face into her neck.
"Shh. It's all right." Because fuck if he knows what else he's supposed to say, but that's what you say when you're comforting someone, right? He just wants her to be okay. (Like 'okay' has ANY fucking meaning whatsoever in this place, jesus.) "It's all right."
Eden makes a weird little laughsob noise, because sometimes she's a little crazier than she is other times, such as uh, when she's in a random oubliette somewhere in a building she can't even think of as a hospital, as she's trying to actually keep hold of that tenuous grip on sanity, and that means ignoring basically everything right now sans Mohinder.
Not telling someone to stay is the same thing as telling someone to leave, you made your daddy leave and you'll make him leave too--
"Please shut up," she whispers, holding tighter. ...it's probably not necessary to specify she's not talking to you, Mohinder. Uh, hopefully.
Well, Mohinder is pretty much made of uncertainty, so he will shut up whether she is talking to him or not, and just focus on quietly stroking her bloodsoaked hair while she holds onto him.
The lack of fear contributes to the lack of urgency he feels, but they've been running frantically since they first woke up here, and the rapid change in temperature from the nursery to the cold damp cell--not to mention the timefuckery--is making him really, really just need a rest, until his head stops swimming quite so badly.
He doesn't know how long they spend down there, on the slimy wet floor, clinging to each other--it's entirely possible it's only a few moments, that time is running differently for her than it is for him; time means nothing here--but eventually he drags himself out of the stupor he's fallen into. "Eden," he says gently, "we have to go."
The whispers go away after a while - or maybe they don't, maybe it's just that Sarah Ellis had gotten so good at blocking them out that even though as much as Eden McCain would like to lash out, tell them they're wrong and they should be fucking sorry for what they did, what they let her become, the instinct to just push it down, just put it away, keep going is too strong, because that's what she does. It's she's always done.
She pulls herself up, tugging him with her. He doesn't really need the help, it's just one of those things she needs to do to try to get back to that mysterious state of 'okay,' or at least not completely fucking freaking out.
It's a slow process, made more laborious by the fact that her jeans are heavy with damp guck, which she still registers enough to be annoyed by, though lord knows that won't last.
"Assuming there's anywhere to go, yeah." Have some of Eden's delightful wit, Mohinder. But they have a flashlight, so now's as good a time as any to actually use it.
(Still that taste in her mouth like stale breath, like who did you wake up with and where are you now, Sarah, who made you forget this time, how much did you drink; when you think of them you taste recycled wine sour on your lips)
Eden presses her lips together and keeps climbing, tugging at the back pocket of her jeans with one hand as she goes. Something small falls away into the darkness.
Then for a while there's just silence louder than bombs, louder than the screams of the dying, there's just little Sarah Ellis and the argument that never stops. Eden tries to close her ears; she's listening for something else. It doesn't come.
"Mohinder? I had a compact. In my back pocket." You know, that probably won't confuse him at all even without the time delay, Eden. "I dropped it about 10 minutes ago, I think. And...it hasn't hit the bottom yet."
On the upside she's, uh, not bleeding anymore.
"Also if I say anything really weird, just--it's--it's not you, it's me." Right, let's vague that up a little more, shall we? Just for fun.
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Hearing her voice snaps him out of that a little bit, enough that he actually thinks about what she's saying, distracting himself--enough to misstep, for his foot to slip on the crumbling damp wood and slide off into space, for the rung his hands are clutching onto to snap neatly in half, pitching him backwards off the ladder into the complete absence of light, and his only coherent thought as his heart seems to completely shudder to a terrified halt is I'm going to be falling forever. Forever.
But he doesn't. It's only a matter of minutes before he lands on cold, rank, slimy tiles, knocking the wind out of him.
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She'll scramble down as long as she has to, there has to be a bottom somewhere, there has to, she steps down, body tensing to go as fast as it can --
And the broken glass of what's left of her makeup mirror crunches underfoot, scratching damp stone tile with a sick scraping noise. And then? Then? Well, then Eden kind of freaks out, because she just can't not anymore. She drops to a crouch and feels around in the darkness, hands out in front of her. "Mohinder? I can't see, come on, say something--"
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"Eden? I--I'm all right--" He drags himself around on hands and knees, searching for her, but he can't get a handle on where she might be from the sound of her voice--it sounds frighteningly far away, but he doesn't know whether to trust that or not--
His shoulder collides with hers in the pitch-blackness, and he grabs onto her before he can lose her again. And then he's just grabbing onto her because...well, for christ's sake, just because.
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"I'm hearing things," she mumbles into his shoulder, regardless of how damp with sweat and lord knows what else that shoulder is at the moment. Ever hear Eden sound embarrassed before, Mohinder? It's an novel experience, that. But she thinks she better tell him before she says anything really...crazy. Or crazier than she's starting to feel, anyway.
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"Shh. It's all right." Because fuck if he knows what else he's supposed to say, but that's what you say when you're comforting someone, right? He just wants her to be okay. (Like 'okay' has ANY fucking meaning whatsoever in this place, jesus.) "It's all right."
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Not telling someone to stay is the same thing as telling someone to leave, you made your daddy leave and you'll make him leave too--
"Please shut up," she whispers, holding tighter. ...it's probably not necessary to specify she's not talking to you, Mohinder. Uh, hopefully.
Reply
The lack of fear contributes to the lack of urgency he feels, but they've been running frantically since they first woke up here, and the rapid change in temperature from the nursery to the cold damp cell--not to mention the timefuckery--is making him really, really just need a rest, until his head stops swimming quite so badly.
He doesn't know how long they spend down there, on the slimy wet floor, clinging to each other--it's entirely possible it's only a few moments, that time is running differently for her than it is for him; time means nothing here--but eventually he drags himself out of the stupor he's fallen into. "Eden," he says gently, "we have to go."
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She pulls herself up, tugging him with her. He doesn't really need the help, it's just one of those things she needs to do to try to get back to that mysterious state of 'okay,' or at least not completely fucking freaking out.
It's a slow process, made more laborious by the fact that her jeans are heavy with damp guck, which she still registers enough to be annoyed by, though lord knows that won't last.
"Assuming there's anywhere to go, yeah." Have some of Eden's delightful wit, Mohinder. But they have a flashlight, so now's as good a time as any to actually use it.
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