Participants:
| Scene Title | I Don't Dance |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Colette returns home after a trying day and Nicole does her best to comfort her without babying her in the process. |
| Date | June 11, 2009 |
The Nichols' Apartment
This is how she comes home, not with a slam, but with a whimper.
The door to the brownstone slides shut with a muffled click, damp clothing slouching up against the wood surface and sliding down it effortlessly. The slim, rainsoaked frame of Colette Nichols leaves a damp streak down dark wood from her sopping wet sweater vest. Her shoes clunk on the hardwood floor until her backside thumps down, knees pulling up towards her chest as cold fingers press against blind eyes. It's a whimper that is the first voluntary sound she makes, one that turns into this tiny, strangled growl of frustration before the back of her head soundly thunks against the door.
Blind eyes stare up sightlessly to the ceiling, murky and white, glassy and wet around the reddened edges. Breathing in a sharp breath through her nose, the girl looks like little more than a drowned rat, her inky black hair and stark red highlights at her ears matter down to her head, save for defiant locks that spring up at awkward and unkempt angles. Her cheeks are wet, for reasons otherwise different from the rest of her rainsoaked form.
Every bit of her is trembling, not so much from the cold, as it is from the anger.
"Colette?" Nicole Nichols calls to her sister from the kitchen. "Are you home? Where the blazes have you been?" Footsteps sound on hardwood floors, likely fashionable but sensible pumps for work, and they stop suddenly at the edge of the foyer.
"Sissy?" The steps begin again, hurried now as older sister joins younger at her side. Fabric rustles as Nicole tugs her skirt up enough so she can crouch down next to Colette. "Come here." Warm, dry arms wrap around the rain soaked girl, pulling her into a slightly rocking embrace. "It's okay. I'm here. Tell me what you happened, or what I can do to make you smile." A kiss is dropped on top of the girl's head before Nicole presses her cheek to that wet mop of hair.
A frown, a grimace, and a huffed breath — Nicole used to act the same way. "It's— " Colette turns away from the affection, only slightly, looking up with milky-white eyes and an awkward smile. "I— just got what I had coming to me… s'all." She swallows noisily, exhaling a tired sigh out of her nose before leaning her forehead against Nicole's chin, and then making the clumsy and awkward motions to try and pull herself to her feet. "…forgot my umbrella, too."
Nicole has gotten good about helping Colette without making it seem like she thinks the girl needs it. Carefully, they both get to their feet. Nicole pulls her sister in for a tight hug once again, heedless of the dampness that transfers from Colette's clothes to her own. "Do you want to talk about it?" She releases the girl and then takes her hand to guide her gently toward her bedroom. "Come on. Let's get you dried off and changed. What do you want to wear?"
A tired sigh escapes Colette as she jerkily stops in her footsteps, pausing to step on the heel of one of her shoes, wrenching it off with a motion of her ankle before repeating the process with a stocking covered toe. "I left some laundry in the dryer in the laundry room," her head bobs in the direction of the back hall, "I— I can get it." Her voice is smaller than usual, timid, but also steeped with reluctance and uncertainty. It's not terribly becoming of her.
"I don't — " Colette closes her eyes, almost dismissing Nicole off-handedly before she just slouches forward and wraps her arms around herself. "I fucked up — more than usual," she says in a mumbled voice, running one hand through her hair, raking back damp bangs with thin fingers. "Christ did I fuck up."
"Okay," Nicole says neutrally, brushing some of the rain and tears from Colette's face with the pad of her thumb. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" She tugs the girl toward her room again. "C'mon. You're dripping water on the floor. Let me get you toweled off or you're going to catch a cold."
There's a reluctant sigh, and Colette nods her head and turns towards Nicole, managing a hesitant nod of her head in agreement as she follows along beside her sister. "I— there's this girl, Abby?" Blind eyes lift up to look in Nicole's direction, it's hard to imagine how Colette functions without her sight, but the graces of the inhuman ability she was gifted with seem to speak volumes for her continued capacity to be a normal girl. "She can heal people — could heal people." It's obvious where this is going now, as Colette scuffs stocking clad feet over the wood floor as she walks.
"I— Judah got hurt back in the fall, I wanted her to fix him up. She— was afraid to 'cause he's a cop and she's not registered." Not as far as Colette knows, anyway. "So— so I got pissed, and— and I said a lot of mean, stupid things to her and— and now I totally got what I fucking deserved be— because she lost her ability." It's not car keys, and the words coming from Colette don't entirely seem to make sense. "I dunno, she— I wanted her to fix my eyes. I— I'm— I don't want to see things the way I do anymore."
Nicole leads Colette to her room and disappears only long enough to grab a towel from the bathroom across the hall, still within earshot. "Sissy, we've both said mean things to and about people before. That doesn't mean this is your fault. Because it isn't." The woman isn't quite sure how one loses their ability, but she doesn't exactly know much about how being Evolved works, either.
She drapes the towel over her sister's head gently before rubbing it briskly over her hair, mussing it up while she dries it off. "There you go. No more dripping all over the place." She moves away from Colette so she can rummage through the girl's closet. "Here we go." The sound of heavy fabric hitting the bed happens twice in quick succession. "Lounge pants and a sweatshirt. Perfect for a night in. I was thinking of making cookies tonight. You want to help?"
There's almost something too picket-fence about the whole scenario, but at the same time this is what Colette wanted for so long. "I— don't really feel like baking," Colette says in a somewhat defeated tone of voice, looking down to the pants and sweatshirt. "I— um, I don't— " one hand moves out, resting on the soft fabric, curling her fingers into it with a slow nod. "I threatened to turn her in to the police, Sis… I— I was going to ruin her life, b— because she was afraid."
Colette tugs up the shirt that was laid at her side, rolling the fabric over in her hands, then looks up to Nicole. "I— I just want to see again. I— " the young girl turns her head away, teeth pressing down into her lower lip. "It's hard, doing— seeing like this. I— I fucked up…"
"You didn't fuck up, 'Letty. Stop saying that." Nicole's tone is sympathetic, but firm. She has to be big sister and mother now. "You were scared, too. You didn't want Judah to be hurt. You didn't turn her in. You did the right thing. Stop beating yourself up for it." There's a soft sigh from the woman as the springs of Colette's bed creak quietly when it's sat on. "I know you want to see, Sissy. I want you to, too. I'm doing everything I can to find a solution. Don't give up on me yet, okay? And don't give up on you, either."
All she can do is sigh, a slow, tired one that comes with a nod of her head as she sets the sweatshirt down. "Yeah…" Colette's brows furrow, and the young girl looks up to her sister, managing a smile that isn't entirely honest. "I— yeah, I'll… try." Pursing her lips, Colette's brows furrow as she stares down at her damp skirt, then back up to Nicole. "Hey, um," her head tilts to the side, eyes wandering the floor for a moment, "you know like— stuff. You know, watch the news or— I dunno…"
Nicole's heard the term before, but it's never registered any sort of meaning in her mind. "I don't know either. Sorry." She glances around the room silently, brows furrowing. "What did you borrow? Maybe I can get it back to her on your behalf, if you don't feel up to going to see her again?"
Colette shakes her head slowly, "Nothing important, I— I'll hang on to it." She's never been this guarded before, this unusual. It's like back in her younger years, like when she slipped through her sister's fingers and became more distant, though likely not as much a cry for help now, as it was then. "She gave me the name of some street doctor down in, uh… somewhere," the young girl hangs her head, "I— don't think I want to go to— to some stranger."
"Dancing and sorta' kinda' seeing where I'm standing— " A crooked smile creeps up on Colette's lips, "doesn't seem like a too-great idea." The clothing is hefted up in one hand, sightless eyes diverting down to them before lifting up to her sister again. "Empire Records has good music— and— I've seen it a dozen times, so I can remember what it looks like." She tries to smile, tries to seem upbeat about all of this.
Tilting her head down, Colette turns for the bathroom, slinging the dry clothing over her shoulder. "I haven't danced in a few years, Sis. I— I'm almost eighteen. M'growing up…" She pauses in the doorway to the bathroom, turning to look back over her shoulder at Nicole. "M'gonna be eighteen in October. Ain't so… little anymore."
"You know I can't help it," Nicole says. "I still remember when Mom brought you home. You were so tiny, and I fell in love with you instantly. You're always going to be my little sister." Nicole moves to the hallway, leaning against the wall outside the door to give her sister privacy, but stay in talking distance. "I'm trying not to treat you like a kid. It's just hard for me sometimes. Please forgive me?"
One dark brow rises as Colette watches her sister from across the room, breathing in a slow and steady breath before exhaling an overly dramatic and clearly feigned sigh designed to blow an errant lock of hair from her face. "This time," she says teasingly, her smile turning a touch more honest. "Go on and get that popcorn ready, I think I'm going to use your shower before I put on some dry clothes…" She takes a few steps back further into the bathroom, lingering one hand on the doorknob.
"Thanks," Colette adds after a moment of hesitation, "for— everything." Her brows crease together, "I— I'll get this figured out one day, right?" Her smile turns a bit bittersweet, but when Colette closes the door with a soft click, at least Nicole can tell that for now, maybe things will get better.
But they at least aren't getting any worse.
