Participants:
| Scene Title | A Burnt Out Lightbulb Still Shines |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Colette finally awakens after a day long slumber following over-exerting her ability. |
| Date | May 16, 2010 |
Time has little meaning for either Tasha or Colette in the hours following the nightmare that took place in the Staten Island Greenbelt. What happened after is a blur for Tasha — somehow she managed to get Colette to the truck and eventually they were joined by the others. When they returned to the Lighthouse, injuries were seen to and mended, but there was no "mending" of Colette's eye — swollen and puffy around the edges, the iris clouded as if by cataract.
Tasha has refused to leave her lover's side, though she has given her the full residence of the bed. A chair has been dragged to the bedside, and that has been the sole location for Tasha since Friday evening — with a few very brief escapes to the restroom. Others have seen to it that meals have been brought up, but the same trays have been brought back down, mostly untouched except for the coffee or tea or hot cocoa — caffeine and hot water seemingly the main staple of the young girl's diet while on vigil.
Curled up under a quilt, Tasha has fallen asleep for a few moments — her cell phone is set to vibrate every hour in case she does just this — so the most sleep she has gotten is 59 minutes in any one sitting before being awakened by the buzz in her pocket to check Colette's status — if unchanged, she allows herself to sleep another hour. The little timer, unseen in her pocket, is three minutes away from waking her again.
Colette's been awake for six.
Staring up at the ceiling, sore and disoriented, head pounding and vision blurry she has not rushed her wakedness. She knows Tasha is beside her, knows because she can feel her reflection in the ambient light, not from any movement. The dry swallow Colette gives makes it feel like she hasn't had anything to drink in ages, like a mummy awakening in its crypt after a prolonged slumber. One shaky hand finally rises, fingers pawing at her cheek and her hand waving in front of her blinded eye.
To Colette it isn't quite like being blind. Conrad's words, from back so long ago remind her of a time when she didn't have eyes to see with. With her hand in view, she sees it, but as she sweeps it over her "blind" spot it becomes like an impressionist painting, colors in the shape of a hand and lacking in the definition and detail that a hand should have. Both eyes close, and the world becomes painted by Matisse; it's beautiful, and depressing all in one.
Turning her head slowly, Colette's neck screams with tension and stiffness, and she moves her hand to rub at the back of her neck. Having been bedridden for over twenty-four hours has made her feel stiff and achy, but she needs to see what she's turning to look at, not feel.
When Colette's good eye settles on Tasha's blanket-wrapped form in the chair, her brows furrow and eyes tear up. There's a noisy swallow again, this one a little less dry than the last, less parched feeling. She opens her mouth to speak, but no voice comes, only a hoarse sound like a mouse's squeak. Clearing her through, she opens her mouth to speak again…
…but is interrupted by the buzz of a cell phone in Tasha's pocket.
Her body has been trained in the 36 hours or so since she's been at Colette's bedside, and Tasha's hand is reaching for the pocket almost as the cell phone goes off, her eyes not opening but her brows knitting as she fumbles for the phone. Bringing it up, she's already pushing the reset button before her eyes open. Dark lashes flutter on pale cheeks, and finally lift sleepily. Her brows knit together to make sense of the numbers on the clock — 07:00 05/16/10 — before they turn to the more important task, to check on Colette.
Her eyes fall on Colette, expecting no change, and it takes a moment before she realizes that Colette's eyes are open and upon her. And teary.
"Colette!" Tasha squeeks, dropping the phone on the ground and standing to hover over the girl, grabbing her hand and staring down at her, her own brown eyes filling with tears, though she smiles broadly at seeing the other awake. "Oh, my God, are you … what do you need, I'll get you whatever you need…"
There's an immediate choke of a sob when Colette's hand is taken, fingers curling tiredly against the brunette's palm. She makes a concerted effort to squeeze, then changes that overwrought and emotional reaction to a smile, a relieved smile. Despite the way her hand is trembling in Tasha's, the tears rolling down her face and the the bruises around her right eye, Colette seems happy more so than anything else. Tasha's question though elicits a very straightforward and simple answer as Colette gives a gentle tug of that hand.
"Hugs," she rasps out with a dry voice, "I need hugs."
"I can … I can do that!" Tasha says, but also notes the dry voice and reaches for the water bottle on the bedside table, handing it to Colette before joining her on the bed, taking the side opposite the injury and wrapping her arms around Colette tightly. She brushes her lips against the soft cheek and rests her chin on the other girl's shoulder.
"I… I didn't know how bad you hurt and I didn't want to hurt you while you were asleep, by being on the bed with you, if it … if it hurt you," she whispers softly. "I didn't want to hurt you any more than you already are. Oh, my God, Colette, you were amazing, I didn't know you could do that, but… but your poor eye." She probably shouldn't bring it up, not yet, not when the other has just woken up. "Hailey's fine, they found Gillian too, though she's kinda hurt bad, but I think she'll be okay. Everyone came back. Because of you."
"I didn't know I could do that either," is perhaps less worrisome after the fact as Colette lifts up the bottle of water and brings it to her lips, wetting them first before taking a few slow, careful swallows. If there's one thing she knows a thing or two about, it's waking up after being unconscious for long periods of time and how to best recouperate. Her initial manifestation coupled with the bomb put her under for much longer.
After drinking from the water bottle, Colette sets it down on the nightstand and turns slowly to face Tasha, wrapping arms around her waist and letting their foreheads touch. "I'm— sorry if I worried you," still sounds dry and weak, but that she's awake and talking is a solid enough plan right now. "I'm— I'm so sorry about everything…" her nose brushes side to side against Tasha's, eyes shutting only for a moment before they open again and she slides her hands down the brunette's back and then up beneath the back of her shirt, letting her palms smooth against her back, needing that reassuring feeling.
"Gillian," Colette whispers, shaking her head from side to side, fingers curling with a light touch of her blunted nails as her hands curl into fists. Colette's quiet for a moment, head nodding once slowly before she presses her lips to Tasha's in a warm, gentle kiss. Silence thereafter, silence and nervousness. She's kicking herself for not being able to do enough.
"If you say I'm sorry one more time," Tasha begins, grinning against the other's lips as they forehead touch, "I am going to make you take cod liver oil for a week because it's, um, good for your eyesight. All those omega whatever-the-hell they are." Her hand comes up to lightly touch the other's cheek, where it's swollen below the eye.
"You worried me, yes, but you also probably saved me and Doyle and Aaron, Colette. You were amazing. And I'm still worried, but it's nothing you should apologize for — you were … you were a hero, okay? I wish I could have protected you better… you … you fell down and the dogs grabbed you again, and I couldn't stop them fast enough…" Tasha's voice cracks and she turns her face away, pressing it into the pillow rather than let Colette see her cry. "I should be sorry, not you," are her next words, but they just come out muffled by pillow.
Colette may not have much strength at the moment, but what strength she does have goes in to squeezing Tasha tightly against herself. Lips brush slow and featherlight from lips to cheek and Colette's nose brushes across where kisses were just left in an attempt to reassure. "I'll— be okay…" Colette whispers, "everything'll be alright we— we got out, everyone's going t'be okay." Swallowing noisily, Colette presses a kiss to Tasha's cheek and just holds her close.
"S'no such thing as heroes…" Colette says after a few moments of silence in embracing Tasha, "jus— just people doin' what's right, an' what's right ain't ever easy." Lips brush across Tasha's cheek again, and Colette grows silent after a few moments again, breathing in a slow and deep breath before exhaling it out across Tasha's cheek.
"I love you, I'll never let anybody hurt you," is said with simple conviction, an errantly states fact; the sky is blue, snow is white, I'll always be there. Some things are simpler as fact than others, but the role reversal of Colette as the protector has her feeling at least confident in herself where there is shreds of doubt still.
"I feel like a burnt-out lightbulb," Colette adds after all that seriousness, tired laugh bubbling up from her as she squeezes arms weakly around Tasha again.
The reassurances from Colette create a paradox where Tasha feels both better and worse all at once — she shouldn't be the one needing reassurances. She turns her face from the pillow to press instead into Colette's neck, her eyes hot and wet against the skin there.
"I should be able to protect you better, though," she says in a small voice. She's never felt the Evolved were all bad, but she's never wanted a power as badly as she does now — a power that could help her protect Colette from all the hurt and pain in the world.
A power that does not exist.
"You are a burnt-out lightbulb," Tasha manages to make a joke to Colette's little joke, and she lifts her face to press a kiss against the other's lips, soft and gentle, then lifts her chin higher to brush an even softer, gentler kiss on the brow above Colette's injured eye. "We'll get you fixed, okay?" is a promise she probably can't make, anymore than Colette can follow through on all of hers.
The sound Colette makes in response to the kiss over her blinded eye is a bittersweet one. "I'll be okay," Colette offers in a hushed tone of voice, clinging to Tasha's warmth and closeness, the comfort of having someone she loves and trusts in her arms giving way to better spirits than anything else could afford her right now. "You don't need a power t'be special… you've got all the power I need," she offers in soft quality, lips to Tasha's again in featherlight touch, "for once, I get to be the person— " the words hitch, Colette reconsiders the context but can't come up with a suitable substitute in time before, " — the person protecting the one that means the most to me."
This noise she makes is less bittersweet, and more disconcerted, if only subtly so. "I get to be the strong one, if you'll promise me one thing…" there's a touch of Colette's nose to Tasha's, soft and tender, "that you'll kiss all my scrapes and bruises, and make them better." Then, with a more wry tone, trying to lift her spirits and Tasha's she adds, "an' I'll promise not to get hurt too much on purpose just for kisses."
There is a soft little sigh of both affection and protest when Colette insists on being the strong one, but her arms tighten around Colette's waist, her lips returning to press a cheek, a stronger one this time, to the uninjured side of the other girl's face. "I promise," she whispers, smiling against the cheek as she reaches up to stroke through Colette's hair.
"You're the strongest person I know, and I know you will argue with that, but … no one else could go through what you've gone through and still be so … so wonderful… so loving, Colette. I don't … I don't think I believe in God but your power makes me wonder. Because no one else's power has ever made more sense to me…" Tasha's voice grows softer, not much more than a whisper. "You're … you're the embodiment of light."
She squeezes Colette tighter, hugging her harder, now that she's sure Colette won't break. "Scary light, sometimes, mind you — that was pretty epic the other day, Laserface."
Hiding her face down against Tasha's shoulder, the warmth of Colette's flushed face speaks for her embarrassment. It's hard to agree with everything Tasha says, but at the same time it's the kind of praise she's not use to getting either, a strange new feeling of both approval and respect. Making a soft, weak sound in the back of her throat, Colette presses her nose against the beat of Tasha's pulse at her throat, then leans back at actually look at her in depth.
Colette's eyes are an echo of the past now, the way she was when her new life began after the bomb. One eye is a smilky, cloudy white without a shred of the green the other eye has showing through. It still move, tracks things as if it can see, which is a strange affect. Searching Tasha's own eyes, Colette just smiles, leaning in to steal another kiss when she finds the temptation irrisistable. Narrowly escaping death as many times as she has gives a very take what you can outlook on life; hesitation is for people with long life expectancies.
"It feels weird… being like this again. I— I havent' seen the world like this in so long. I'm lucky though, I mean I— I pushed myself further than I've ever gone before, and— I think I should've been hurt a lot worse than this. That I have one working eye means I'm doing something right. I— I'm… I dunno, something." Resting her aching head down against the pillow, Colette breathes out a sigh of relief. "This all feels… right, though. Or— I mean— normal. I'll probably be alright, just— tired. My ability isn't totally burned out, I can still— feel things. It's hard to explain, I guess."
Leaning in to kiss Tasha's forehead, Colette finally slides her hands down out of the back of the brunette's shirt, very gradually moving to prop herself up on one arm. "How— how is everyone else?"
The brown of Tasha's eyes is unchanged, though the bloodshot of the white surrounding the irises, along with the smudges of lavender beneath the lower lashes, tell how little sleep the girl has gotten while at Colette's bedside. She smiles at the words of reassurance, lips parting to ask a question but Colette asks one first.
Tasha swallows, and finds Colette's other hand, the one not propping her up. Her fingers interlace with Colette's and she brings it to her lips to kiss. "Doyle has a concussion and a sprained wrist — he went down in like an avalanche. Hailey has a broken leg… Joseph's dog got hurt badly, too, but…" she sighs, obviously leaving the worst for last. "Gillian… I heard someone say she has a fever — I think they thought I was asleep when they came in to check with you. Might mean infection. She got hurt pretty bad - arm and stomach, I think… the dogs got to her too."
Propped up as she is on one elbow, draped with thick blankets and still looking half awake, Colette's half-blind stare to Tasha is a quiet one. There's a ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips, one pale hand reaching out to thread a dark lock of the other girl's hair behind one ear. It's not a far reach, given that Tasha is laying by her side, having discarded her silent vigil in a chair beside Colette's bed now that she's awake.
"A— Alicia got hurt?" There's a croak of noise in the back of Colette's throat, and she curls one lock of Tasha's hair around her index finger, then gently brushes fingertips along the back of her ear and down one side of her neck. "I should— I should try and get up, see everyone…" there's that strain again, and moving from elbow up onto one hand, Colette withdraws her touch from Tasha's neck to hold at the side of her head.
"Re— Remember when you asked what I needed…" Colette squints her blind eye closed and looks down to Tasha, "and— and all I said I needed was hugs?" There's a crease of the half-blind girl's brows and a goofy, somewhat awkward smile creeping up on her lips as she asks, "Can I like, make that hugs and asprin?"
"No, you will not get up, not until someone with more medical knowhow than me clears you," Tasha says sternly, pushing Colette back down as gently-but-firmly as she can. "Lie down, and I will go get you aspirin, all right?" She presses a kiss to Colette's forehead and then sits up, sliding her legs off the bed and standing.
"I should tell them you're awake, anyway. Everyone's really worried, and they'll be glad to know you're okay," she adds, feet finding their way into fuzzy slippers for the trek to find aspirin. "Do you want anything to eat or anything, while I'm at it? Something besides water?"
Just on the tail of Tasha's words, the sound of creaking footsteps becomes just audible outside the door. On the other side of it is Joseph Sumter, who's heard mixed and— surely— confused things about Colette's condition before going off to find out himself, for all that the fact his dog's stay at the orphanage has him returning besides the fact that the snow prevents enough travel as it is. He prefers the mainland, as a general rule, and not taking up room that other people could be using better than he.
An uncertain pause lingers for a moment at the soft sound of voices on the other side of the door, before he deduces that one of them belongs to Colette. Gently, he raps his knuckles on the door's surface.
Mouth open and about to answer Tasha, the knock on the door has Colette's brows lifting and her attention offered to the sound. She sits up just a little more, perhaps defiantly protesting that she has to lay down, but not quite getting up either. Scooting back to lean against the headboard, she pulls her covers up to wrap snugly around herself, and rather heedless of whomever might be on the other side of the door she offers a gently, "s'okay— you can come in."
Once more mis-matched eyes direct up to Tasha, a sweet smile sapread across her lips as she just shakes her head slowly, "I'unno, not too hungry. Just— " in the back of her mind she can hear a nagging voice, and her eyes roll a little, "soup?" She shouldn't have asprin on a decidedly empty stomach. Though the request for food comes with a sheepish look, given how tired Tasha looks now.
Her feet now in fuzzy slippers, Tasha scuffs to the door to open it just as Colette says to come in, so she pulls the door open rather than wait for the person on the other side to do so.
"Joseph!" Tasha greets, pleased to see him, especially since Colette is awake. "Come in and you can keep Colette company while I go get her soup." She throws a glance over her shoulder, eyes narrowing at that sheepish look. "Soup is easy as long as you don't expect home-made, okay? Open can, pour, heat. I can manage that, so don't you dare look like you're putting me out by daring to ask for food after two days, Colette," she tosses, before stepping out of Joseph's way with a grin. "Be right back."
Hand haplessly trailing after the handle once the door is magically opened for him, Joseph awkwardly pulls his arm back and steps into the room, off to the side to not block what seems to be Tasha's exit and offering the girl a brief smile and a nod. Smalltalk not quite as easy as it used to be, especially with someone breezing their way out, Joseph hasn't much to say in the wake of Tasha's departure — which is fine, and expected, as he turns his attention to the injured instead.
"Hey," he says to the teenager huddled under sheets, hands coming to clasp behind his back, loosen again to swing and push into his jacket pockets as he enters the room a little further. "How're you holdin' up?" There's a kind of determination in his voice — this has no comparison to the aftermath of Bella Sheridan's facility break out, that and Colette is going no where fast, but all the same. They've managed to avoid prolonged estrangement in the wake of disaster.
Hurray.
The answer is visible and audible, both in the way she tiredly says, "I feel like a burned out lightbulb," and the way one of those eyes staring up at Joseph is blinded. The latter isn't as surprising to the pastor, having seen her before the return of her eyesight, having been given trust in sharing her secret of seeing without seeing. But the bruise around Colette's blind eye makes it look like she got socked in the face by an angry mechanical bull rather than attacked by dogs.
"I heard 'bout 'Licia…" Colette murmurs, her eyes trailing past Joseph to Tasha's retreating form briefly, then back up as she lifts both of her arms up, smiling sheepishly and spreading her fingers as she makes the universal sign for hugs will make it all better. That may not be medically certain, but it's been a long while since she's wound her arms around her off-again on-again spiritual guide and moral compass. They could probably both use it.
Hesitation, and then the natural gravity of Joseph drifting on over towards a hug. He's good at them — it's one of his +skills — and so envelopes Colette in a comfortable embrace that's only awkward inasmuch as the angle will wear on his back after a moment or two. He could use a hug, what with his dog resembling a patchwork quilt and so doped up on tranqs that getting her outside into the snow to go is something of a mission, weight and stumbling gait being a factor alongside coarse stitches.
"She'll be okay," he mutters briefly over Colette's head, before he's pulling away and sitting on the edge of the bed, dark eyes inspecting that bruising with a certain note of tension. "I don't even know what happened down there. I was stuck on a cliff ledge the whole time. Your power?"
There's a mild and guilty smile at the question when Colette slides away from the embrace, letting one hand linger on Joseph's shoulder, fingers curling in the thick fabric of his sweater. "You know like, how when people get scared they can do crazy stuff like lift cars off'a trapped family members or you know— just push themselves and regret it later? This is kinda' like that…" there's a motion with her free hand towards her blind eye, even as the one at Joseph's sweater is slowly unwinding to lay down on the blankets beside him.
"I— guess it's like pullin' a muscle, mentally or— I dunno— somethin'." Sheepishly offering a smile, Colette leans away from the headboard and slouches towards Joseph, resting her head against the pastor's shoulder. "I lucked out, an' Tasha told me that— I dunno, I did something right." Her mismatched eyes look up to Joseph, and Colette snakes one arm around his waist, reinventing the pastor as a pillow.
"I'm really sorry…" Colette whispers, pressing her nose against his shoulder, letting her eyes lid partway, "m'sorry I— about— about everything. I told Magnes to— I— " there's a weak sound in the back of Colette's throat, "how— how's Hailey? G— Gillian?" She's blaming herself for what happened, because people were listening to her. That anyone was hurt at all is a colossal failure in her eyes, and it doesn't take a Catholic to recognize guilt when it manifests, Baptists know enough about it.
The door opens again and Tasha appears with a tray carrying chicken noodle soup and a bottle of aspirin along with a second bottle of water and some crackers. "Quit saying sorry, Lettie," Tasha says in a hushed whine — it's early and people are still sleeping. She shuts the door with a push of her foot and brings the tray over to settle on Colette's lap.
She sits on the corner of the bed to leave the chair for Joseph, and she sighs softly, brows knitting together with worry for Colette, before turning to look at Joseph, a pleading look on the small brunette's pale face. She doesn't say anything but the request is clearly written in her eyes — make Colette stop feeling guilty. "I didn't see anyone downstairs and I don't wanna wake anyone who's sleeping, but I left a note that you're awake," she adds to Colette.
Looping an arm around her shoulders, Joseph listens, another talent not yet burned out of him, and some of what he came hear to say dismantles promptly in the face of Colette more or less saying it for him. It was a mistake, the power use, and he could be kind of proud for the young woman huddling against him to recognise that all on her own, if he didn't think Judah Demsky likely deserves that pride more than he does. "Gillian got hurt," he admits, comfort in truth. "Hailey— she's got a broken leg from slipping but she'll be okay…"
Back straightening if not completely dislodging Colette, letting his arm only loosen should the girl go for soup, the pastor is silent at Tasha's words and glances off when she sends that pleading look his way. Still, he does say, "If I hadn't been down there with Hailey, we'd've got crushed by hill comin' down on our heads. Everyone's alright now — a sight better'n they could have been.
"Present company excluded. Next time— wait for someone to pull a gun before goin' for lasers, okay?" is kind of helplessly chuckled out.
Attentive on Tasha all through her entrance and setting down of the tray, Colette only returns her focus to Joseph after thinking about that last comment, lightly pinching her fingers at the fabric of his sweater at his side, a teasing gesture met with a wrinkle of her nose and a sly smile. Looking down to the tray, Colette offers a thankful smile to Tasha, seeming a bit relieved on smelling the soup. "Oh God I was hungrier than I thought… the second I smelled soup— " she cracks a toothy smile stretching her legs out a little, enough to tap one blanket-shrouded foot against Tasha's side.
"I— I know everything was all crazy, back when Hailey an' Gillian went missing so— I never really like…" Colette makes a noise in the back of her throat, "I never got to really find out if you two knew each other already…" mismatched eyes meet Joseph's, and Colette gently slides out from his arm to get a better angle on the tray of soup. "Joseph's been a good friend've mine for a while now, an' like— I know you know he runs Grand Central. But like he's…"
What is Joseph to Colette? The question hangs on her tongue as she looks up to him.
"He's like the big brother I never had. I dunno how… how it got that way, I jus' feel like I've known'm my whole life." There's a crease of Colette's brows and she leans to gently touch her head to Joseph's shoulder, "I love'm like family. I'd do anything for 'em…" More things in Colette's outlook on life as of late, speak your feelings. She's been doing that in abundance lately.
"Tasha," her eyes flick to the other girl, then up to Joseph, "um, is— " color rises up into her cheeks, "Tasha's my girlfriend." There's a creeping smile up on Colette's lips, one very impish and somewhat sheepish one. "I thought— you know— it's nice to have both of you 'round when I wake up, y'know?"
The words about waiting for someone to pull out a gun have Tasha turning her face away after settling the food, though she tries to cover it by reaching down and adjusting one of her socks. Today's pair are actually Colette's orange pair. When she looks up, it's with a broad smile at Colette's proclamations of being hungry.
The introductions made, Tasha's cheeks turn rosy but she beams at the rest of it. "Any big brother of Colette's is a friend of mine, unless you find me unworthy and then I'd have to kick your butt or something. But it's nice to meet you, um, officially, since that night was crazy and kinda too tense to really be introduced."
She offers her small hand to the pastor, the nails all chewed to the nub. "Pleased to meet you. I have a Dali-meets-Picasso-meets-Keith-Haring fish on your wall."
There's no hesitation — Joseph goes to take Tasha's hand and shake it warmly, for all that he has nothing to say in this immediate moment, surprise stalling him but managing to have the decency to do it politely and in his head behind a smile he willingly casts to Tasha. It takes practice, when you're a Southern Baptist pastor in New York City. "Really, now," he says. "We're gonna need a bigger wall down there, for all the— fish. Nice to properly meet you too.
"And I should— " Let go of Tasha's hand, ease to stand up without jostling Colette around with a hand planting onto her shoulder in an affectionate squeeze. The brother comment is appreciated — he did an awful job with his real sister. "I should let you get to eatin' somethin', and— " And apparently share a room with a surprise unexpected girlfriend.
Colette's attention lifts up to Joseph when he does, arising from trails of steam coming from her soup to the pastor. "Thanks for… for checkin' up on me Joseph." There's a quiet, thankful tone to Colette's voice as she watches the pastor's movements, brows lifted, "when all this snow's gone… when all'a this— " she waves one hand around, her mood seeming bolstered by something, infectious good spirit draining away the negative from her, all that doubt and worry and anxiety fading like instant xanex over the last few minutes. She may not know what Aaron's ability is, but that doesn't preclude her from benefitting from it.
"When we're all gettin' back to our lives n'stuff… I— I got somethin'." She's got something. "A little ray'a light, I guess you could call it…" there's a wrinkle of Colette's nose and a faint creep of her lips into a smile.
Looking down to her soup, she smiles again, can't help but to smile with how good she feels. "I think I'm lucky— " she hesitates, looking to Tasha, then Joseph, "m'blessed t'have people like you two in my life." Which is to say, a contrast from her retreat from the world following captivity with Bella. Not all of that is Aaron's doing.