fic: so easy to be friday's nightmare (britta/jeff)
so easy to be friday's nightmare
she didn't used to be claustrophobic. really, she didn't.
britta/jeff
She blames the stupid hotel and their stupid faulty elevators. If it weren’t for the stupid fire department that’s only got one stupid truck running at the moment, she would be out of here already. But of course the stupid hospital had to catch on fire and leave her stuck. In an elevator. With no power.
With Jeff stupid Winger.
She can hear him sweating, that’s how tiny the space is. She can’t see him-stupid lights went out with the power and there aren’t even back-up lights to help her find the emergency call button-but she can hear him. And that’s enough.
It’s enough to make her quake in the corner she chose, opposite him where he can’t see her around the glare from his little Blackberry. It’s enough to make her hide her face and count to ten and back again, slowly and surely, promising herself that if she gets out she’ll never, never get into another elevator again. It’s enough to make her rock ever so slightly, back and forth and back and forth, because the motion is steady and her heartbeat is not.
She didn’t used to be claustrophobic. Really, she didn’t. She could hide in her bedroom closet for hours while her brothers pretended they had no idea where to find her during hide and seek. But there was that thunderstorm in Albuquerque when she’d been locked in that camper and everything had changed since. She’d been alone then, with only her own breathing and her own crying to listen to for all of the eighteen hours she was stuck inside. She doesn’t know if it is better or worse that she’s sharing the space with Jeff. She just knows, knows, in the pit of her stomach that they are never getting out.
-
She hated being in the stupid space bus. Hatehatehated it with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t take it, the little girl inside of her who got locked in the bathroom when Mommy’s boyfriend came over kicked and screamed and wailed at the door. She couldn’t show it, though. Couldn’t let them know. She was Britta, she was strong, she wasn’t going to go in the cage with Pierce because that space was even smaller and she would die if they locked her inside. Small comforts kept her sane.
There was light.
And she wasn’t alone.
-
“What are you doing?”
Seven, eight, nine-“What?”
She looks up and sees that he’s turned his screen around to face her-probably so he can see if she’s as bored as she is-and he caught her mid-rock. She stills and stares, knowing that her eyes are red-rimmed and her hair is wild and she looks as crazy as she feels. With four simple words, he reminds her that she is sane and it’s an elevator and she’s not going to die, as much as it feels like it. His voice reaches out again and she listens-really listens.
“Are you okay?” he asks slowly. She can’t see his face, but she can imagine it. A little irritated, mostly concerned, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a frown. She forgets that he’s talking to her for a second until he says, “Britta!”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. Her voice is break-y and she wraps her arms around her knees. “Just a little claustrophobic is all.”
“Claustrophobic?” Jeff asks. She can almost hear his eyes rolling and unfolds herself a little, lets some of the tension melt away. She can hear him muttering to himself. “Great, just great. My day just got so much better.”
“I didn’t ask for this to happen, you know,” she snaps suddenly, after she’s listened to him complain in a half-whisper for a minute longer. “I didn’t mess around with the circuit breaker. I didn’t damage the cables or whatever the guy said was wrong. I didn’t sabotage the elevator just so I could get stuck in here with you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Jeff said. His voice was venomous, all concern forgotten. “Just like you didn’t get in here with me knowing you were claustrophobic.”
“You really think that I did this?” she asked. “I’d rather be in here alone than with you!”
She wouldn’t. Not really. She was alone last time and she never wants to do that again.
-
He said he would be back in a minute. He needed to connect the trailer to the car battery or something like that. He said everything would be alright; they just had to wait out the storm. A tree fell across the door to the camper and knocked him out seconds after he left.
It wasn’t quite silent. The wind howled and the rain pounded and the thunder was loud and sudden and made her jump often. She curled up into a ball in the middle of the bed and told herself that he would be back. The semi-darkness was terrifying. She could barely make out her own hand and every time the camper shook, something moved around her. She knew she was alone, and that was the worst thing. She was entirely alone.
Her own breathing scared her. A ragged mismatched count, out of time with the rapid beat of her heart and the rain outside. Every time something creaked, she bundled up a little tighter, pulled in a little closer. She was so scared and alone and it ate at her.
Eighteen hours. During eighteen hours, she never slept. She beat at the door, she pounded on the windows, criedandscreamedandclawedandkicked but she never slept, not for a moment.
When the storm was over and he’d come back with help, they found her in a corner, shaking and unable to speak.
-
“Come here,” Jeff says finally, sighing a little.
She looks up again and sees that he’s laid his phone on the ground so they can see each other. His features swim in and out of the darkness, but she can see that he’s sincere enough. After a moment’s hesitation, she scoots across the floor to sit next to him. Without a word, his arm goes around her and pulls her close so that she is half in his lap. A glance up at his face shows that he isn’t looking at her, but frowning at the corner where she had been. He glances down at her after a moment and gives her a tiny smile. She doesn’t return it and he simply puts his hand on her head and strokes her hair.
Tears prick her eyes, and for once she doesn’t do a thing to stop them.
Through it all, the crying and waiting and, eventually, sleep, her ear remains pressed against his chest. In the darkness, she can hear his heartbeat.
she didn't used to be claustrophobic. really, she didn't.
britta/jeff
She blames the stupid hotel and their stupid faulty elevators. If it weren’t for the stupid fire department that’s only got one stupid truck running at the moment, she would be out of here already. But of course the stupid hospital had to catch on fire and leave her stuck. In an elevator. With no power.
With Jeff stupid Winger.
She can hear him sweating, that’s how tiny the space is. She can’t see him-stupid lights went out with the power and there aren’t even back-up lights to help her find the emergency call button-but she can hear him. And that’s enough.
It’s enough to make her quake in the corner she chose, opposite him where he can’t see her around the glare from his little Blackberry. It’s enough to make her hide her face and count to ten and back again, slowly and surely, promising herself that if she gets out she’ll never, never get into another elevator again. It’s enough to make her rock ever so slightly, back and forth and back and forth, because the motion is steady and her heartbeat is not.
She didn’t used to be claustrophobic. Really, she didn’t. She could hide in her bedroom closet for hours while her brothers pretended they had no idea where to find her during hide and seek. But there was that thunderstorm in Albuquerque when she’d been locked in that camper and everything had changed since. She’d been alone then, with only her own breathing and her own crying to listen to for all of the eighteen hours she was stuck inside. She doesn’t know if it is better or worse that she’s sharing the space with Jeff. She just knows, knows, in the pit of her stomach that they are never getting out.
-
She hated being in the stupid space bus. Hatehatehated it with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t take it, the little girl inside of her who got locked in the bathroom when Mommy’s boyfriend came over kicked and screamed and wailed at the door. She couldn’t show it, though. Couldn’t let them know. She was Britta, she was strong, she wasn’t going to go in the cage with Pierce because that space was even smaller and she would die if they locked her inside. Small comforts kept her sane.
There was light.
And she wasn’t alone.
-
“What are you doing?”
Seven, eight, nine-“What?”
She looks up and sees that he’s turned his screen around to face her-probably so he can see if she’s as bored as she is-and he caught her mid-rock. She stills and stares, knowing that her eyes are red-rimmed and her hair is wild and she looks as crazy as she feels. With four simple words, he reminds her that she is sane and it’s an elevator and she’s not going to die, as much as it feels like it. His voice reaches out again and she listens-really listens.
“Are you okay?” he asks slowly. She can’t see his face, but she can imagine it. A little irritated, mostly concerned, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a frown. She forgets that he’s talking to her for a second until he says, “Britta!”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. Her voice is break-y and she wraps her arms around her knees. “Just a little claustrophobic is all.”
“Claustrophobic?” Jeff asks. She can almost hear his eyes rolling and unfolds herself a little, lets some of the tension melt away. She can hear him muttering to himself. “Great, just great. My day just got so much better.”
“I didn’t ask for this to happen, you know,” she snaps suddenly, after she’s listened to him complain in a half-whisper for a minute longer. “I didn’t mess around with the circuit breaker. I didn’t damage the cables or whatever the guy said was wrong. I didn’t sabotage the elevator just so I could get stuck in here with you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Jeff said. His voice was venomous, all concern forgotten. “Just like you didn’t get in here with me knowing you were claustrophobic.”
“You really think that I did this?” she asked. “I’d rather be in here alone than with you!”
She wouldn’t. Not really. She was alone last time and she never wants to do that again.
-
He said he would be back in a minute. He needed to connect the trailer to the car battery or something like that. He said everything would be alright; they just had to wait out the storm. A tree fell across the door to the camper and knocked him out seconds after he left.
It wasn’t quite silent. The wind howled and the rain pounded and the thunder was loud and sudden and made her jump often. She curled up into a ball in the middle of the bed and told herself that he would be back. The semi-darkness was terrifying. She could barely make out her own hand and every time the camper shook, something moved around her. She knew she was alone, and that was the worst thing. She was entirely alone.
Her own breathing scared her. A ragged mismatched count, out of time with the rapid beat of her heart and the rain outside. Every time something creaked, she bundled up a little tighter, pulled in a little closer. She was so scared and alone and it ate at her.
Eighteen hours. During eighteen hours, she never slept. She beat at the door, she pounded on the windows, criedandscreamedandclawedandkicked but she never slept, not for a moment.
When the storm was over and he’d come back with help, they found her in a corner, shaking and unable to speak.
-
“Come here,” Jeff says finally, sighing a little.
She looks up again and sees that he’s laid his phone on the ground so they can see each other. His features swim in and out of the darkness, but she can see that he’s sincere enough. After a moment’s hesitation, she scoots across the floor to sit next to him. Without a word, his arm goes around her and pulls her close so that she is half in his lap. A glance up at his face shows that he isn’t looking at her, but frowning at the corner where she had been. He glances down at her after a moment and gives her a tiny smile. She doesn’t return it and he simply puts his hand on her head and strokes her hair.
Tears prick her eyes, and for once she doesn’t do a thing to stop them.
Through it all, the crying and waiting and, eventually, sleep, her ear remains pressed against his chest. In the darkness, she can hear his heartbeat.