Chapter Text
Within the span of a month, Nat’s dad had died - partially her fault - and her soccer team’s plane had crashed in seemingly the middle of nowhere - probably somehow also her fault. She had planned to stick with the team and head to nationals, even after ‘the accident’ in hopes of distracting herself… and getting away from the police, but apparently her misfortune followed her and this is a bit more than she bargained for.
I guess she doesn’t have to worry about getting a summer job anymore.
≫------»
Natalie is awake and the plane is hurdling at hundreds of miles towards the earth, with her in it of course. Natalie is awake and was in fact, never asleep, because Natalie Scatorccio is terrified of planes. This is partially on account of her having never been on one prior to this. Great introduction .
So they’re probably not winning nationals after all.
Her nails dig into the arm rest and her head throbs, she thinks it may be due to the fact that her stomach is now lodged next to her brain and there’s just not that much space in her skull. Even with the current location of her organs, she’s pretty sure she’s about to throw up. She scrabbles for the mask now hanging inches above her head, sliding it over her face and tightening the strap during the moments of lesser turbulence when she isn’t gripping the seat for dear life. Her heart is beating out of her chest, reverberating through her already crammed skull and contending with the volume of the engines. Her face is hot and her legs are numb. Tears and sweat pool around the seal of her mask and she briefly wonders if she has asthma because she cannot fucking breath, even with the thing on. It must be doing something though because she sees it inflate one or two times before getting thrown forward, the seat belt cutting into her stomach in a way that sends a sharp pain up her sternum just before her vision goes black and she is plunged into the darkness.
So maybe she can sleep on planes after all.
≫------»
She wakes up coughing. Flames climb up from the back of the plane, licking at her boots. Her chest feels heavy, it’d be fucking ironic if smoke is what did her in. She wastes no time debating her death, she’s not so eager to reconnect with dear old dad. She rips the mask off of her face and starts struggling with her seatbelt. The metal burns, but she grits her teeth against the pain. No one rushes to her aid, but it’s not like she’s new to saving herself.
Once she is free she bolts for the nearest exit but the numbness in her legs shoots up to her hips and she stumbles, collapsing into the aisle. Determined, she drags herself forward, eventually getting a knee then a foot under her and staggers to the emergency exit, using the chairs as support. The exit door is already torn off its hinges and she all but rolls out, landing on a bed of pine needles and ash.
It’s chaos outside, girls screaming, some are crying, some have stoic expressions, hiding their fear in favor of helping the others. The scene is a little too familiar and she finds herself fading. Aimlessly floating between groups, not really gathering what they say to her, if they say anything. She’s not sure what she’s looking for.
Slowly, she returns to herself, to reality. Her ears stop ringing and her vision focuses and she’s just standing there, a teenage girl, a burnout really, next to a massive pile of what is now mere scrap metal. There's also fire, a lot of it, some spare luggage scattered here and there, and a few bodies. Great. Just another day in her cursed fucking existence, sucks for everyone else that they got dragged into it.
And she’s pissed - because even if she deserved this, they certainly didn’t.
≫------»
Okay, maybe Travis deserved it. Who the fuck lets their little brother run into a burning, falling apart, piece of shit plane without so much as a flinch?!
≫------»
Lottie
Before vision, before smell or hearing or taste, Lottie feels. She feels hands in her own, fingers grasping at her own. She desperately mirrors the action, clinging to the lifeline anchoring her to the earth, to her seat. Next she tastes metal, hears terror; maybe the rapture came early and Laura Lee was wrong about its peaceful nature. Lottie always had a feeling her kind wouldn’t be welcomed past the pearly gates.
But that’s not the case after all, because her next comes her vision and the hand tangled in her own is Laura Lee’s and God would never destroy the planet with his best still on it. Every sound is amplified and every movement in her peripherals sends a sharp pain up her spine, making its home in the base of her skull in the form of a raging migraine. She’s focused on everything at once and somehow nothing - none of it makes sense, there is no big picture. She can’t hear her own thoughts and she can’t process a single thing she hears or sees.
Fuck having heightened senses.
One voice she recognizes amidst the cries. It’s close to her ear, just a little louder than the rest. “Lottie, we have to go.”
And she sounds so sure, the fear is easily concealed by her resolve. Certain that she will be protected by her faith. Lottie believes her. For a second, it’s all Lottie hears. She wants to wrap herself in that voice, hide from the reality outside of their row. Hide from the hellfire berating her senses. But she can’t, because the hellfire is no longer just metaphorical. The hair on the backs of her arms and neck have started to singe and she feels as though she’s getting sunburned and boiled from the inside out simultaneously. The veil of her friend’s voice is fading, the hyper-awareness taking its place once more. She has to get out of this plane. She has to get Laura Lee out of this plane.
So they’re on their feet, running down the aisle and tripping over stray scraps of metal and fallen luggage, smoke filling their lungs as the plane shifts and creaks under their every step. Tai and Misty are at the exit door, pushing on it frantically and screaming for help. Lottie slams into the door behind them, feet sliding as she heaves against the metal as it rapidly rises in temperature. It whines and shifts under the added weight and a moment later bursts free from its hinges, the girls tumbling out in a conglomerated heep. The air is crisp and relatively free of smoke compared to inside the metal tube. Lottie feels her senses relax as she gulps it down.
≫------»
Hours pass and a familiarity settles about Lottie. The sun has begun to set and there’s an eerie buzz in the air, like the trees are alive, spreading the good news of their arrival. It’s off-putting and wrong, but it almost feels like they’re welcoming her home. Just as the thought settles uncomfortably in her mind, a familiar smell wafts past. Her stomach shifts and her throat tightens.
That’s when the realization hits her. She’s hungry .
The lurch in her stomach had been caused by Misty moving Coach Ben closer to the fire Lottie is kneeling in front of. The smell of fresh blood wafts off of him, washing over her relentlessly. The movement must’ve reopened the wound - if it ever stopped bleeding.
Her eyes grow wide and she stands abruptly, backpack in hand. Thank god it was one of the luggage items salvageable from the crash, far enough from the flames to be collected, mostly unscorched, once they were put out. Scanning her surroundings, it seems like most of the girls are either distracted treating each other's wounds or going through supplies, so she easily slips past to the corner of the clearing.
She rifles through her scorched bag, her fingers find the cool plastic of the ziplock bag she packed just this morning. Her heart drops. As she lifts the bag just enough to get a glimpse she sees deep red liquid- there shouldn’t be liquid. It fills the bag and drips out of the seal at one end. Some of her pills must have burst in the crash.
She’s going to starve.
The reality should hit harder than it does, but the sweet metallic smell has reached her nose and fills her throat. It’s intoxicating and she hasn’t eaten all day. Her head jolts up, eyes running over each survivor, ensuring their focus is elsewhere, before ducking her head to the bag puncturing the side, her fangs fully extended.
She’s not used to feeding like this - normally she swallows the pills before they even have the chance to burst in her mouth, scared that she’ll become addicted to the taste, the smell, the way the liquid pools on her tongue and slides down the back of her throat. She could only imagine what it would feel like warm, fresh -
She stops, pulling her fangs from the plastic and whipping her head back in disgust at her own thoughts. She cuts her lip in the process and a single drop slides down her chin. She swallows the urge to swipe her tongue over it - not like her own blood would do much for her hunger - and wipes her mouth on her arm instead.
In a more stable state of mind, Lottie peers down at the plastic bag, the remaining pills visible now that the liquid has been… removed.
There’s enough for two days. She always packs extra, especially for competitions with the extra exertion they bring. But with the ones that had broken open, this is all that’s left. She curses herself under her breath for indulging, maybe it would have lasted longer if she hadn’t. She knows that’s not true, it would have congealed and made the whole batch useless.
Sighing, Lottie wads up the bag and stuffs it to the bottom of her bag, shifting her clothing and toiletries to conceal it. The blood that leaked out has already soaked into the fabric at the bottom. The others will just assume it's from the crash, only she can smell the difference anyways. She slides on her fuzzy jacket and pulls up the hood, not because she is cold - her meal warmed her stomach and flushed her cheeks - but to shelter her from the ever-seeing pines. Their branches shift and sway above her, the rustling of their leaves telling stories of all she keeps hidden. She has no secrets here. Not with them.
≫------»
Nat
The next morning they spend digging graves. Sheets of scrap metal from the crash are used to loosen the soil and their teammates are laid gently down into the very earth that stole the breath from their lungs.
They hold hands and pray. Nat isn’t much for religion, whether people pray or not, death finds them anyways. And yet her eyes are screwed shut anyways because she fucking hopes there’s something out there that might take pity on her and just for once - cut her some damn slack. Or at least her teammates… they’re innocent.
She doesn’t catch all of what Laura Lee says, but she’s catches the phrase “the valley of the shadow of death” more than once. It flutters through her chest and to the base of her stomach, light as a feather. When it lands it’s a rock. Heavy and uncomfortable, knocking around in her gut, settling somewhere between her liver and large intestine, making itself right at home. She has a discomforting feeling they’ll be getting familiar with each other.
≫------»
Three days pass and she knows her prayers were ignored. No one is coming to save them, her luck.
Or so she thinks until Taissa bursts through the treeline, nearly tripping over her in feet in - excitement? “There’s a lake!”
It’s no rescue helicopter, but its something. And as appealing as camping next to their fallen teammate’s burial site for the unforeseeable future sounds, the allure of fresh water wins.
And god was it the right decision.
The water is fucking freezing , but after three days with no shower and trying to manually scrape off the dried blood and grime from under their nails and skin, nothing could be more refreshing. Natalie finds herself stripping off her clothes and running in without a second thought, her chest feeling almost light… giddy even. The weight of their situation lifts off her shoulders for just a moment as she wades out, stumbling multiple times due to her excitement. The cool waves lap at her thighs and finds herself giggling at the sensation - actually giggling - maybe she’s hysterical.
“Oh my god - Scatorccio are you actually laughing right now?” Van, of course.
“I can enjoy myself from time to time” Natalie splashes at her in retaliation. Van’s smile only spreads, then shifts into what can only be described as sinister.
“Oh… you wanna play that game, huh?” and suddenly Natalie is drenched. I guess she’s clean now. You’d think Van was hiding a bucket with how efficient she is at cascading entire fucking waterfalls around.
But Nat isn’t mad - some water definitely got up her nose and she sputters and coughs for the next few minutes, swearing to get Van back for her crimes, but deep down she’s grateful for it. It had seemed like everyone was trying to one-up her tragic character, walking around looking at their feet or shielding their emotions with stern expressions - which really isn’t fair to her, that’s her brand. It’s good to see Van back to her normal, slightly annoying, self.
She finds herself perched atop Van’s shoulders not long after, having followed Van to deeper waters after she had called out “ Chicken fight! ” and grabbed her arm.
When Shauna climbs up to face her she knows she’s gonna be back in the depths shortly.
“Natalie.” She greets, polite, yet a smirk hides painfully obviously behind her tight-lipped smile.
“Shauna…”
With a glance towards Jackie on the shore, who quickly breaks eye contact, turning away to giggle about something with Mari, Shauna’s shoulders tense and her grip tightens on Natalie’s hands.
“GO!” Van bellows.
It doesn’t take long for cold water to be up her nose, again , as she’s nearly catapulted off Van’s shoulders. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Van had actually let go, but Nat is not so fortunate and she is left hanging from Van’s shoulder’s by her knees, head dunked thoroughly like she’s fucking apple-bobbing on Halloween.
“That’s it” She spits out lake water.
“Switch.”
Shauna’s grip is the same on her thighs as it was on her hands. Nat faces some JV girl now, it’s a little embarrassing to admit she doesn’t know her name - but not too embarrassing.
She slides her fingers between the girls’ and risks a glance down at Van who has a look of pure determination painted across her face. Scary .
This time Natalie has the upper hand and the other girl waivers, tilting back awkwardly. However, Van was not about to lose again. She pushes forward - which Nat isn’t even sure is allowed - and Shauna stumbles back head going under. And she’s falling backward again, fucking Shauna.
Losing twice does not look great on her track record and her throat is starting to actually get sore from swallowing lake water. She shakes her head and waves Van off. “No more - you’re gonna have to find someone else to witch dunk.” But her smile betrays her tone. It’s hard to fake anger with the laughter of your teammates filling your ears like birdsong - especially after three days of its absence.
She wades out a bit and after finally catching her breath, she notices Lottie. She’s just standing there, waist deep, back turned to her. The outline of her shoulder’s is slumped… She looks defeated. Unsurprising, but the water seemed to cheer everyone else up. Odd that the sentiment didn’t reach her. She looks like she’s staring, maybe at the horizon? Nat isn’t sure.
She chooses to ignore her for now.
Instead Nat leans back into the water, letting the icy chill slide up her back. The prickling sensation shoots up her sine, settling comfortably around her skull. Waves of soothing numbness spread out from there, engulfing her body in a tranquil cocoon. It’s like she can finally feel again and can’t feel anything all at once - like there’s nothing else in the world besides the tingling across her skin.
Apparently Lottie hadn’t just been staring at the treeline, because Nat is pulled from the icy darkness all too soon by the sound of her voice, alerting the others that she had noticed a reflection.
It was a cabin.
≫------»
The buzz along her spine and chill in her head doesn’t fade until that night.
They had found an actual cabin, a chance. It was filled with winter clothes - which they desperately need this far north - and a Rifle. The site of it did not bring back pleasant memories but Natalie’s well aware that it will be key to their survival.
There was also a knife that Shauna had picked up quickly. Noted.
And a corpse. Tai had found him in the attic and had flown down the ladder, looking like she was about ready to puke. He had looked… empty, cheeks sunken in and ribs protruding through his near vacuum-sealed pale skin. Or whatever of it he had left.
It’s just the decomposition she tells herself, but she doesn’t really believe it. She’d seen too many bodies with sunken cheeks that are perfect reflections of these - fresher of course. They had buried him under pink and orange clouds as the sun retired beneath the treeline. Dirt making its home once again beneath their nail beds as they dug.
When they settled in, spreading the blankets scrounged between the cabin and the salvaged luggage, Nat found herself between Shauna, Jackie, and Lottie. Shauna and Jackie weren’t really talking and she could feel the tension radiating off of the pair, it was incredibly uncomfortable and she could really use some comfort right now. Shauna was staring at Jackie who had fallen asleep pretty much immediately after laying down, that or she was faking it to avoid the look in Shauna’s eyes, both seemed equally as likely. They had been fighting since Shauna voted to leave the crash site - or well, Jackie had been ignoring Shauna and Shauna didn’t know how to handle it so she’d been trailing her like a lost puppy. God it made her sad just thinking about it.
She ended up rolling over, trying desperately to create some distance from the scene, even if just by turning her back to it - and found herself nearly curled into Lottie because of it. The blankets aren’t nearly big enough for the girls to spread out, after all. That’s when the buzzing faded and the chill thawed.
Lottie is warm, like really warm. Not in a way that burns, but in a way that you’d want to stuff your hands under her shirt to heat them up when it’s snowing out. Her faint snores match the steady rise and fall of her chest , but her face is contorted - brows knit together tightly. It seems so out of place with her breathing.
With the confirmation that Lottie is asleep, Natalie lets herself stay curled into the brunette’s side, sucking up the heat that attempts to leave Lottie’s body and escape the blanket. It’d be a crime to let such precious body heat be lost at a time like this, right?
She drift’s off - breath slowing to eventually match Lottie’s. Her eyes closed involuntarily as the exhaustion works its way into her shoulders and her mind is dragged deep under the floorboards, to a place where there is only darkness, soil, and the occasional tree root. It’s comforting, even if just for a moment.
≫------»
Cushioned luxury seats and the feeling of falling at speeds that are definitely not disney-land approved meet her in her dreams.
Her eyes snap open - they feel like they may bulge out of her head. No- not again I can’t fucking do this again.
Her throat itches and a thick heat rises from her stomach and rests right behind her tongue. Hot tears well up in her eyes and she blinks repeatedly, hoping - praying - she might wake up. Because asking god for help has always worked out so well.
The engine roars in her ears, it’s distorted, wrong .
She finds herself grabbing for anything nearby in hopes of steadying herself, grounding herself. She finds an arm on the rest beside her. It comes as a surprise, she doesn’t hear any yelling or crying this time, she had assumed she was alone.
Her head snaps up to follow the arm to a shoulder, then a face. It’s her dad. Of course.
His head is on wrong, neck twisted at an angle that no human’s head should be twisted at. He’s smiling at her, it’s upside down and crooked - maybe he’s actually frowning, she isn’t sure.
But his eyes feel like daggers right to her insides and she feels her throat close up, trapping the heat that had been rising in it previously.
“... dad?” she manages to choke out.
“I don’t know what you’re so scared of, Natty.You’ve already got blood on your hands.”
The familiar chill of metal slides beneath the pads of her fingers. She knows before she sees it - a shotgun. Her dad’s shotgun.
“We’re almost there. It’s been waiting for us”
She wakes up in a sweat.
She can hardly catch her breath and the warmth she craved just hours ago now seems like a curse. She struggles with the blanket, it’s wrapped around her arms, her legs, her neck. She can’t fucking get out and she feels like she might suffocate. She kicks at it before finally freeing an arm and pulling the cloth down from her chest. Cool air rushes in and chill runs along her arms, goosebumps rising in its wake.
And finally, she breathes.
Her mind calms and she does what she had been trying to do all night - she grounds herself. Her dream wasn’t real, her subconscious had imagined it up to fuck with her. Well, parts of it.
When the pounding in her ears resides and the rise and fall of her chest returns to a normal enough pace she notices Lottie. Sitting up, but not facing her. She seemed to not notice Natalie’s panic. Good, that would’ve been embarrassing.
But she’s sitting straight-backed, just staring at the dark opening in the ceiling that leads to the attic. A black hole, its presence ever-growing. A pang of empathy twists in Nat’s gut at the sight. She should have said something hours ago, back at the lake. She crawls forward to her, now, concern painting her face.
“It’s okay.” She tries to lace as much comfort into her tone as possible, but it comes out shaky. She hardly sounds like she believes it herself - she doesn’t.
Lottie doesn’t so much as blink in response.
“He’s gone. Remember? We buried him.”
She shifts a little now, tilting her head towards Nat but she never fully breaks eye contact with the ladder. She never meets Nat’s gaze.
“I think bad things happened here.”
It’s a statement - so quiet Nat almost misses it. As soon as the words reach the open air, Lottie turns around and lays back down, facing away from Nat. As Lottie’s face hits the pillow the words hit the bottom of Natalie’s stomach. They’re heavy and uncomfortable and she finds herself sitting there now - in Lottie’s place - unmoving. Slowly she forces her gaze up, rung by rung to the hole in the ceiling. She feels it too, bad things did happen here. She’s sure of it.
Her breath catches in her throat and her blood runs cold. She purses her lips and forces down the hot spit that had been building on the back of her tongue, eyes darting back to the floor. Whatever happened here… It’s none of her concern for now, they’re safe here.