Part Seven
Jan. 15th, 2012 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: Part Seven
Rating: PG-13 for swearing.
Summary: In which some things become clear.
Date: December 29th, 2029
Notes: I have neglected the Thriller Project for far too long. The other side of Sidelines.
When Summer managed to fight her way out of the storm of choking fear, she opened her eyes and did not know where she was.
That almost triggered a relapse-- she could feel the fear clawing its way back up her throat-- but for the near-total darkness where she was and the faint murmuring of a voice outside. It was a familiar voice... she concentrated, and after a moment realized it was Officer Ryan.
That was good. Officer Ryan did not like her-- or at least she thought he didn't, or not much, anyway, no matter what Felipe said-- but he would protect her. She had utter faith in that. No matter what happened, he woud protect her. And he wasn't shouting and he didn't sound angry, so everything must be safe.
She shifted, tentatively, and felt her hand slip against a slick, porcelain surface. A bathtub, she decided after a moment, feeling the curving sides around her. That made sense. She'd always gravitated towards small, enclosed spaces when the fear took her over. The darkness made sense too-- somewhere in the screaming rush of her mind, she always understood that she needed to cut sensation to the bare minimum if she was going to get back.
Well, she had gotten back now, and her buttocks were cold and sore from too much sitting. Summer evaded the question of just how long she'd been lost, and reached out, feeling for a handrail or something to lift herself up. Bathrooms were dangerous places. She had no intention of slipping on a bathmat or the tub itself in the dark and breaking her neck, not after all the effort Officer Ryan had gone to keeping her alive.
In her mind gunshots cracked again, and she shuddered, pressed her face against her knees until the shuddering fear subsided. Then she reached out again, felt the roughly slippery cloth of a shower curtain to one side, slick tiles on the other, and carefully levered herself out of the tub.
Officer Ryan was still talking when she got to the door, marked by the neat outline of light coming in around it. Summer did not feel quite comfortable enough to open the door; instead she put her ear to the crack, to see what he was talking about. To see if it was safe.
"...might get lucky," he was saying. There was a pause, then he said, "Fuck you," in that tone that Ivy used sometimes when she was rolling her eyes.
Ah. He was talking to Felipe then. Summer relaxed. He wouldn't be talking to Felipe unless it was all right.
His next words made her stiffen up again, though. "Go talk to the captain. Save my ass. I'll keep Dr. Kendall out of trouble and bring her in tomorrow." Out of trouble from what? Bring her where? And she stiffened still further at "You were right, by the way, I'm an asshole, but we'll talk about that later. Unless I get shot."
He might get shot.
And if he did, it would be her fault.
Summer didn't hear the rest of the conversation; she had sunk down against the door and pulled her knees against her chest, pressed her face into them again. This time it was not fear that overwhelmed her, but misery. Someone had shot at Officer Ryan, a good man, and they might have killed him, and it was because of her. If he hadn't been in the taxi with her, they would not have shot at him. If he hadn't tried to help her that man would not have shot at him.
If it hadn't been for her, it would all have been fine. It was her fault.
The door opened, light flooded over her, and she scrambled away from the sudden space her back, startled and frightened suddenly. Had they found her? Was it someone with a gun?
But the figure that loomed over her crouched immediately, light catching his blond hair, and said things in reassuring tones-- Summer did not catch the words, but she knew those tones, the same ones her mama used when she used to shake, as a child. It was not Jason Dacre, it was Officer Ryan, and even though he usually carried a gun he did not have one today, and he would not hurt her.
She pulled her knees against her chest again and stared at him, feeling more miserable than ever before.
"Oh, shit," Officer Ryan said, and then, "I'm sorry, Dr. Kendall. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's all right," she said.
"Okay," he said, and sat back on his heels, studying her. It was difficult to see his expression, with the light behind him, and she probably couldn't have understood it even if she could see it, but Summer felt suddenly judged, and found wanting. "You look a little better," he said, at last.
She shrugged. She didn't feel better. She wasn't hysterical anymore, but... misery made a knot in her throat, and then burst unexpectedly from her lips.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."
Officer Ryan blinked at her. "You're... what? You didn't mean what?"
"I didn't know," Summer went on, desperately. "I really didn't know. He was trying to bribe me but I honestly didn't realize it until after he was pointing the gun at me and I really didn't mean to start all this, honestly I didn't, and I didn't mean to get you involved and I'm sorry, I am, I'm so sorry, please don't be angry with me..." She trailed off, losing the words in the face of his stare.
He was angry. It was her fault. Summer shrank.
"Why the hell," Officer Ryan asked, in very deliberate tones, "would I be angry with you?"
Summer straightened, in confusion. "I... I thought..."
He shook his head, and she stopped talking immediately. "Dr. Kendall, I am only going to say this once. This is in no possible way your fault. There is nothing you did to cause this, okay? It was the bastards with the guns. You were in the wrong damn place at the wrong damn time, and it is not your fucking fault."
Summer blinked at him for a long time, then said, cautiously, "But you are angry with me. Aren't you?"
"No," he said. "I'm angry at the assholes shooting at you. And at whoever made you feel like everything is your fault."
She tilted her head, distracted a little. "Nobody did," she said. "Or everybody did. I always do something wrong, anyway."
Something spasmed across his posture. "You do not do everything wrong."
"I didn't say that," Summer said, patiently. "I said I always do something wrong. Socially, anyway. I just can't seem to get it right. It's nobody's fault, I was just born that way."
He went still. "Born that way?"
Summer felt her lips part. "You... don't you know?"
"Know what?" he asked. He sounded extremely uncomfortable, though, like she always did talking to strangers. Maybe he did know and he was just trying to be nice, but she couldn’t imagine any reason for that. Maybe... maybe he didn't know.
"I have Asperger's Syndrome," she told him. "Or I suppose it's really called Autism Spectrum Disorder these days, but when I was diagnosed it was still Asperger's, so that's how I think about it. I thought you knew that."
"No," he said, and sounded stunned. Stunned she knew very well. "No, I didn't know."
"Oh." She went quiet. Then she offered, tentatively, "It's the first thing people know about me, usually. I thought... I thought everybody knew. I thought Felipe told you?"
Officer Ryan stiffened suddenly. "Felipe knows?" he asked, then answered his own question. "Of course Felipe knows. The fucking asshole, I'm gonna kill him."
Summer thought he was joking, but she didn't know him very well and there had been a lot of people shooting lately so she thought she had better make sure. "You're not going to really kill him, are you? That's a metaphor?"
"It isn't a metaphor," Officer Ryan said. "But no, I'm not really going to kill him. At most I'm gonna punch his smug face in. Partners do not keep secrets from each other."
"It isn't a secret," Summer said. "It just is."
He looked at her, solemnly, then said, "It shouldn't be, no. You want a hand up, Dr. Kendall? You look really uncomfortable there."
She was, now that she thought about it. "Yes please," she said, accepted the hand he offered, and once she was standing, added, shyly, "You can call me Summer. If you want."
"Uh," Officer Ryan said, and now that he was in the light, she could see an expression of utter confusion pass across his face, before being replaced by something she didn't recognize. "Summer. Pretty name. All right, Summer. I'm Zack."
Rating: PG-13 for swearing.
Summary: In which some things become clear.
Date: December 29th, 2029
Notes: I have neglected the Thriller Project for far too long. The other side of Sidelines.
When Summer managed to fight her way out of the storm of choking fear, she opened her eyes and did not know where she was.
That almost triggered a relapse-- she could feel the fear clawing its way back up her throat-- but for the near-total darkness where she was and the faint murmuring of a voice outside. It was a familiar voice... she concentrated, and after a moment realized it was Officer Ryan.
That was good. Officer Ryan did not like her-- or at least she thought he didn't, or not much, anyway, no matter what Felipe said-- but he would protect her. She had utter faith in that. No matter what happened, he woud protect her. And he wasn't shouting and he didn't sound angry, so everything must be safe.
She shifted, tentatively, and felt her hand slip against a slick, porcelain surface. A bathtub, she decided after a moment, feeling the curving sides around her. That made sense. She'd always gravitated towards small, enclosed spaces when the fear took her over. The darkness made sense too-- somewhere in the screaming rush of her mind, she always understood that she needed to cut sensation to the bare minimum if she was going to get back.
Well, she had gotten back now, and her buttocks were cold and sore from too much sitting. Summer evaded the question of just how long she'd been lost, and reached out, feeling for a handrail or something to lift herself up. Bathrooms were dangerous places. She had no intention of slipping on a bathmat or the tub itself in the dark and breaking her neck, not after all the effort Officer Ryan had gone to keeping her alive.
In her mind gunshots cracked again, and she shuddered, pressed her face against her knees until the shuddering fear subsided. Then she reached out again, felt the roughly slippery cloth of a shower curtain to one side, slick tiles on the other, and carefully levered herself out of the tub.
Officer Ryan was still talking when she got to the door, marked by the neat outline of light coming in around it. Summer did not feel quite comfortable enough to open the door; instead she put her ear to the crack, to see what he was talking about. To see if it was safe.
"...might get lucky," he was saying. There was a pause, then he said, "Fuck you," in that tone that Ivy used sometimes when she was rolling her eyes.
Ah. He was talking to Felipe then. Summer relaxed. He wouldn't be talking to Felipe unless it was all right.
His next words made her stiffen up again, though. "Go talk to the captain. Save my ass. I'll keep Dr. Kendall out of trouble and bring her in tomorrow." Out of trouble from what? Bring her where? And she stiffened still further at "You were right, by the way, I'm an asshole, but we'll talk about that later. Unless I get shot."
He might get shot.
And if he did, it would be her fault.
Summer didn't hear the rest of the conversation; she had sunk down against the door and pulled her knees against her chest, pressed her face into them again. This time it was not fear that overwhelmed her, but misery. Someone had shot at Officer Ryan, a good man, and they might have killed him, and it was because of her. If he hadn't been in the taxi with her, they would not have shot at him. If he hadn't tried to help her that man would not have shot at him.
If it hadn't been for her, it would all have been fine. It was her fault.
The door opened, light flooded over her, and she scrambled away from the sudden space her back, startled and frightened suddenly. Had they found her? Was it someone with a gun?
But the figure that loomed over her crouched immediately, light catching his blond hair, and said things in reassuring tones-- Summer did not catch the words, but she knew those tones, the same ones her mama used when she used to shake, as a child. It was not Jason Dacre, it was Officer Ryan, and even though he usually carried a gun he did not have one today, and he would not hurt her.
She pulled her knees against her chest again and stared at him, feeling more miserable than ever before.
"Oh, shit," Officer Ryan said, and then, "I'm sorry, Dr. Kendall. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's all right," she said.
"Okay," he said, and sat back on his heels, studying her. It was difficult to see his expression, with the light behind him, and she probably couldn't have understood it even if she could see it, but Summer felt suddenly judged, and found wanting. "You look a little better," he said, at last.
She shrugged. She didn't feel better. She wasn't hysterical anymore, but... misery made a knot in her throat, and then burst unexpectedly from her lips.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."
Officer Ryan blinked at her. "You're... what? You didn't mean what?"
"I didn't know," Summer went on, desperately. "I really didn't know. He was trying to bribe me but I honestly didn't realize it until after he was pointing the gun at me and I really didn't mean to start all this, honestly I didn't, and I didn't mean to get you involved and I'm sorry, I am, I'm so sorry, please don't be angry with me..." She trailed off, losing the words in the face of his stare.
He was angry. It was her fault. Summer shrank.
"Why the hell," Officer Ryan asked, in very deliberate tones, "would I be angry with you?"
Summer straightened, in confusion. "I... I thought..."
He shook his head, and she stopped talking immediately. "Dr. Kendall, I am only going to say this once. This is in no possible way your fault. There is nothing you did to cause this, okay? It was the bastards with the guns. You were in the wrong damn place at the wrong damn time, and it is not your fucking fault."
Summer blinked at him for a long time, then said, cautiously, "But you are angry with me. Aren't you?"
"No," he said. "I'm angry at the assholes shooting at you. And at whoever made you feel like everything is your fault."
She tilted her head, distracted a little. "Nobody did," she said. "Or everybody did. I always do something wrong, anyway."
Something spasmed across his posture. "You do not do everything wrong."
"I didn't say that," Summer said, patiently. "I said I always do something wrong. Socially, anyway. I just can't seem to get it right. It's nobody's fault, I was just born that way."
He went still. "Born that way?"
Summer felt her lips part. "You... don't you know?"
"Know what?" he asked. He sounded extremely uncomfortable, though, like she always did talking to strangers. Maybe he did know and he was just trying to be nice, but she couldn’t imagine any reason for that. Maybe... maybe he didn't know.
"I have Asperger's Syndrome," she told him. "Or I suppose it's really called Autism Spectrum Disorder these days, but when I was diagnosed it was still Asperger's, so that's how I think about it. I thought you knew that."
"No," he said, and sounded stunned. Stunned she knew very well. "No, I didn't know."
"Oh." She went quiet. Then she offered, tentatively, "It's the first thing people know about me, usually. I thought... I thought everybody knew. I thought Felipe told you?"
Officer Ryan stiffened suddenly. "Felipe knows?" he asked, then answered his own question. "Of course Felipe knows. The fucking asshole, I'm gonna kill him."
Summer thought he was joking, but she didn't know him very well and there had been a lot of people shooting lately so she thought she had better make sure. "You're not going to really kill him, are you? That's a metaphor?"
"It isn't a metaphor," Officer Ryan said. "But no, I'm not really going to kill him. At most I'm gonna punch his smug face in. Partners do not keep secrets from each other."
"It isn't a secret," Summer said. "It just is."
He looked at her, solemnly, then said, "It shouldn't be, no. You want a hand up, Dr. Kendall? You look really uncomfortable there."
She was, now that she thought about it. "Yes please," she said, accepted the hand he offered, and once she was standing, added, shyly, "You can call me Summer. If you want."
"Uh," Officer Ryan said, and now that he was in the light, she could see an expression of utter confusion pass across his face, before being replaced by something she didn't recognize. "Summer. Pretty name. All right, Summer. I'm Zack."
