TITLE: A Few Days Away
FANDOM: Guiding Light
SUMMARY: Set mid-friendship, this is a hurt/comfort piece as I'm a hurt/comfort junkie. Olivia, Natalia and Emma decide to have a few days away...hopefully more interesting than the summary suggests. Please request before archiving.
RATING: PG for mild violence
Author's note: This is my first ever attempt at fanfic so I'm having to gather a lot of nerve to post it. With very deep thanks to my Canadian Buddy, Critic2000, who beta'd and prodded for this story to see a conclusion and provided insightful and useful comments throughout. I know most of Europe loves her for providing us with Otalia clips as soon as possible but to me, she's my very dear friend. (Course, the clips help ;o))
ADDITIONAL NOTE: Apologies if this isn't everyone's cup of tea but huge thanks again for those that are sticking with it, even if it's not going in the direction most probably hope or want it to go... but I have stated it's a hurt/comfort piece and it will remain in that vein throughout - you have been warned ;o)
Thank you for your continued interest, I know there is a lot of very good fic out there so I'm touched when you stop by to read mine. You've all been very kind - huge thanks
DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Guiding Light or any of the characters.
Okay - thanks to all who fed back and for those who feel the story could end there, yeah me too. However...I've run this past my beta and she says it's okay to post so go blame her if it's not A small addition to begin with...
A warmth really, that pervaded through Natalia’s veil of sleep and had her eyes fluttering open into semi-darkness. Turning her head to glance at the time, she was curious as to what had woken her at such an early hour, remarkably she’d only managed to fall asleep just over three hours ago.
Her own nocturnal migration had her inching towards Olivia and she could now feel the source of the heat at her back.
Movement behind her had her turning towards her sleeping companion and her eyes quickly evaluated that although Olivia’s fever had broken, there was an unhealthy sheen still coating her skin, her pallor disconcerting. Studying Olivia’s face, now given the opportunity to do so in great detail, Natalia looked past the full lips and dynamic but slightly imperfect nose, to the tightness around her eyes and the furrowing of her brow.
Tiny head movements as if being held but trying to fight against it caused Natalia to look further and see the subtle clenching and unclenching of Olivia’s hands, the tautening of her arms as if preparing to do battle.
She’s dreaming again, Natalia realised, and not a good one by the looks of it.
Not wanting to startle the troubled sleeper awake and certainly not wanting a repeat performance of Olivia’s distressed breathing pattern only the night before, Natalia attempted soft, soothing words. “Shh, Olivia, it’s all okay, you’re safe here...I’ve got you.”
When her words were causing no visible change and wondering what it was that held Olivia so tightly in its grip, she decided to try a different approach.
Moving so she was sitting slightly higher in the bed than Olivia, Natalia placed her hand on Olivia’s brow again, feeling for her temperature. She then caressed the side of her face before putting her hand on the uninjured far shoulder and delicately began rubbing her arm. Placing her other arm above Olivia’s head, her hand curled over to lightly play with Olivia’s hair, stroking back the damp strands in a meditative action.
Olivia’s head stilled.
Continuing with the action, Natalia was pleased to see Olivia’s body starting to relax, her breathing evening out again.
Thinking the worst was probably over now, Natalia was surprised when Olivia let out a deep, heavy sigh and turned towards her, Olivia’s own arm falling over Natalia’s side and tightening her hold so that effectively she was now cradled within the Latina woman’s arms.
Olivia wasn’t sure at what point she realised she was dreaming again. There was a part of her that feared she wasn’t, that this was what her life was like and scarily part of her was screaming at her that actually, yes it was. One frightening, emotional drama after another with her heart being ripped from her, both physically and metaphorically, over and over.
She’d felt so out of it last night that sleep had come unbidden. Now the fractured thoughts her fevered brain had acted out for her were pulling at her subconscious and forming a dreamscape she would not willingly walk through but could not turn away from.
The ground hard beneath her, jabbing at her, digging into delicate flesh, bruising.
A buzzing sound, building in intensity like a storm gradually unleashing its wrath.
Voices. Her mind scrabbling to try and decipher the sound made out the noise drilling into her brain was a proliferation of voices, yelling at her, screaming at her.
For every statement a voice threw at her an invisible thread cast itself around her, like Gulliver in Lilliput, trapping her, holding her down.
She wanted to reason, to distinguish the individuals within the throng to make them understand, make them realise.
Everything she ever did was to protect herself, protect Emma, protect...
“What about Ava?” a voice called out, “how many times did you try to hurt her?”
Struggling against her bonds, attempting to turn to face her accuser, her anger rose.
“I did it to protect my daughter! I didn’t know...I didn’t know.”
Memories, haunting and familiar resounded in her ears, accusations, allegations, horrifyingly all true but without benefit of her thought processes, her reasons, she always had a reason...
Faces flashed before her, Buzz, supportive but disappointed; Jeffery, sympathetic, shamed but distant; Reva, scornful and adversarial; Alan, leering and manipulative; Philip...
She wanted to fight, fight back and have someone see it from her perspective, have somebody understand.
She was being held down again, the restraints weren’t loosening, she wasn’t supposed to be here.
Where was she?
The world morphed and she was lying in a bed...Ravenwood?
No...no...they can’t do this, they can’t, I’m not supposed to be here, I didn’t agree to this...
Fear gripped her, tighter than any restraint, she was being held, they were taking her away, locking her away, away from her baby, away from...
Another voice. Softer, vague in the tumult of sound. She strained to hear it, knowing it was a siren to her salvation but the other voices crowded in on her, the faces pressing forward.
She tried to fight again.
Sensation, the impression of cooling water flowing over her head like a baptism. Rhythmic and constant.
The voices were receding.
As the voices began to disperse her struggles ceased. The threads which had held her in place appeared magically cut, she was released and she was free to move, free to turn...
Olivia’s relief was expelled in a deep, heavy sigh and granted the freedom to move again, she practically threw herself onto her side. Her arm connected with something so familiar after her recent confusion, she knew it represented safety, comfort and dependency so she held on, pinning it in place, anchoring herself before she fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep, content.