vvdanicavv | (no subject)

When Danica came to, she fought the urge to open her eyes, like she would if it was too early in the morning and there was no way in hell she was waking up yet. It wasn’t hard to either, they felt gritty and heavy, lids stuck together. Slow, shallow breaths were interrupted by a deep sigh when she finally let the light in. Bright light, as it turned out, pure white in her vision that dissolved from the outside in far too slowly for her liking.

It was a quick, easy decision to close them again. “Fuck that.” Her voice strained, hoarse and dry, and a frown of confusion twitched on her forehead as she tried to figure out why. Her throat was sore, so an attempt to clear it brought nothing by pain. She was too tired to work out why things were the way they were - who gave a fuck about details anyway? - so she reverted to her default and began to roll over to her side, determined to sleep in, even if she lost the entire day. A sharp tug put a stop to that, the IV in her arm catching, enough for her to force her eyes back open, roll her head and take a look.

A drip? Someone had shoved a drip in her arm? And given her a fucking migraine along with it. Thin bandage covered her wrists, though she had only spotted one so far, and she was too incensed at the knowledge that there was a fucking tube coming out of her to question why or who had done it.

“Oh, fuck you,” she told it, before fingernails that couldn’t possibly be her own started picking at the edges of the adhesive tape stuck to her skin. Getting it off, and the tube out of her, was her first priority.

[ooc: dated to Saturday, any time that suits your pup. To find out what happened, click here]

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People vanished all the time on the island, and when she had gone missing, what else could he do but assume it had happened to her, too? Needless to say, it was the worst fucking week he'd had since arriving.

It clearly hadn't been the greatest experience for her, either.

"Take that out and I'll have them stick seven more in in its place," Asher said as a warning from a seat he hadn't left much since Danica had been laid up in the clinic. He was still on edge and would likely continue to be until they released her. "Don't try me, Danica. Listen, for once in your fucking life."

The picking stopped, but only because Danica had been startled out of her endeavor by a voice belonging to a person she hadn't even known was there. Her eyes narrowed briefly, then she slowly rolled her head back the other way to face Asher, lifting the offending hand and dropping it on her stomach to show him she'd listened.

And she had listened: to how fucking uptight he was being. Figuring he deserved it, she frowned at him and blinked a few times in confusion. If her voice wasn't naturally weak at the moment, she would have put it on anyway.

"Who are you?"

A tiny voice told her that even real amnesia could never wipe her brother from her memory but she chose to ignore it.

Asher made a move to stand only to sink back into his seat as soon as Danica opened her mouth. He was silent for a long moment, eyes wide as he stared at her.

"You're shittin' me, right?"

Sure, Asher had been relatively easy to fool when they were kids but it had been thousands of moons since Danica had done it with so very little effort or forethought.

She was half tempted to continue the charade, only she felt like shit and, despite her brother's tendency to annoy the fuck out of her, he was also the only person in the world who had a hope in hell of bringing her any comfort.

"Just get me out of here," she said instead, though the demand lacked the usual do or die quality to it. Just when she needed it the most, too. With her free hand she began pushing the blanket off of her, ignoring the fact that even that seemed to tire her out completely.

Even as he breathed a sigh of relief, Asher rolled his eyes at his sister. And maybe he deserved that, a little... not that he'd admit it, but it didn't mean she had to leap at every chance to stick it to him. It was okay to let a few of those slide.

"No," he replied, picking the seat up and moving it closer to her bed. "When the guys in the white coats say you can go, then you'll go."

"Men who wear white don't know anything," Danica contested, reaching forward again to push the blanket off further. "And not just about fashion." It was an effort but she eventually got it over her knees - grazed knees, she was surprised to find. It was fucking cold without it but she put that down to what she was wearing. Her robe would have been nice but she settled for suppressing a shiver as best she could before setting her sights any higher.

"Don't you have someplace else to be?" It was more a reaction to Asher moving closer like he was some kind of prison guard than anything else. She certainly didn't mean it as an invitation to leave.

"You're not dead. In this instance, I think they know just enough." If the tables were turned, he'd probably want out of the clinic, too, though he wasn't sure she would go to the trouble of forcing him to stay. Unfortunately for Danica, he actually gave a shit what happened to her.

"I'm good here. Sorry if I'm cramping your style." There was nothing in his voice that sounded the least bit sorry for it, actually.

To say Danica's memory was full of black spots wasn't a comment upon her lack of memory but the fact that it was, literally, black. It was eerie, knowing what had gone one but not being able to picture it. She didn't comment on Asher's astute observation about her current state of being. She was too busy trying to subtly pull the blanket back over her freezing legs without losing face. She laid back down, coughed at the sudden change in position and wondered who the hell she had to screw around here to get a glass of water.

"You're just going to sit there? Watching me?" If he started practising his story-telling techniques on her, she would smother herself with her own lumpy pillow before he'd gotten to the end of Once upon a time...

"Would you rather sit here by yourself, then?" Even if her answer was yes, he wasn't planning to go anywhere. Everything else he'd done since she'd been on the island had annoyed her, so what was one more thing on the list? "I could sit out in the hall, but you'd still have a hell of a time making a break for it."

Part of Danica hoped Asher already knew the answer without her having to actually say it. Loneliness had been nothing but a myth to her before arriving on the island.

Though feeling out of sorts, she affected a small pout, just enough she thought to be convincing, and reached out a hand for him. "Baby, I'm sick." Was that what sick people said and did? Since she couldn't remember ever having been it before she didn't have a very good idea. She guessed it was something like being in pain and people always seemed to reach pathetically for each other then. It was one of her favorite parts to watch, the literal clinging to futile hope. "Aren't sick people supposed to get whatever they want?"