Can you do the same prompt with Rosie, please, ma'am? 👉👈
(The Ophelia snippet prompt)
Warning: Arguments, coarse language, crying
It was Rosalie's tears that kept you awake, alive. You stumbled through the darkened miasma of your semi-conscious mind, your only movements being carried out by Rosalie as she supports you, her arm gripping your sides with all her might. Strange, you thought idly, vaguely, wondering how it could be that struggled with your weight when you felt so...light.
"Please," She whispers, and you weren't sure as to who that cry was supposed to be toward- some god that forsook you long ago, or to you, specifically. Maybe Rosalie was asking for the impossible. She always was, from you.
You liked her. Loved her, even. You stopped the stab wound from the enemy's blade penetrating her chest, taking it in your own rib cage instead- that's why you stumbled drunkenly between the realms of life and death. You loved her so much you'd die for her.
And yet-
There was that something.
----
You woke up three days later. A fever you developed scrambled your mind. Your thoughts were both yours and simultaneously not yours. Your tongue was dry and coarse, your lips were bloodied and splintered. And you hated. You hated her.
"I don't want to die, fuck-" You wheezed, gripping onto the bed with all the strength you have left, "-Thane, Thane, I can't die,"
"You're not going to," Thane near snaps, the stress of your state causing what little of his bedside manners to wane and wash like the tide upon the shore, "You're gonna be better the minute you break your fever. You'll live."
"I fucking-" You ramble, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembled from your illness, "-I can't do this. Why- Why couldn't she get the fuck out of the way? I wouldn't-" you catch your breath, "-I wouldn't have to deal with this shit if she did what she was told!"
"She was trying to protect you," Thane defends, "Give Rosalie that much."
That much?
That much, huh?
As if you weren't constantly battling death so you could see her again, as if you weren't constantly worried, constantly stressed, always checking to make sure she was alive after the fighting was over. She ate. She slept. You made sure of it.
You cared. You gave a damn. And that was a helluva lot more than what you gave to anybody else.
Yourself included.
And this was the thanks you got?
"Fuck 'er," you said through chattering teeth, your body both boiling hot and burning cold, "she did this- this to me. Fuck 'er."
"...Sabrina?"
You didn't have the forethought to think about what was flying out of your mouth, you rarely ever do. Upon hearing that godforsaken voice say your name you almost bit your tongue until it bled,
"'Fuck do you want?"
You couldn't see her from your position on the bed, but Rosalie's eyes widened, and she took a step back from her place. Thane opened his mouth in protest, but closed it on second thought- he threw his hands into the air and walked away, an action which only fueled your growing frustration. Fuck him too, then.
"I- I wanted to see if you were okay-"
"Do I fucking look okay to you?" You accuse, opening your eyes to look her direction, "Well?"
"You don't," Rosalie responds, "and you're not thinkin' right, and that's okay-"
"My thinking is just fine, it's you who has the problem!" You retort, "Do you have a death wish? Do you want to die? Do you- do you know how many times I've stuck my neck out for you?"
Rosalie's face pales, and this time it's her turn to look a little sick, "I- I know, Sabrina, and I've-"
"-Not even a screw," You continue, "I get nothing from you worth my goddamn time!"
"But I-" Rosalie pauses, and you hear the telltale sign of her stifling a sob, "-I, I love you, I don't- I don't know-"
"And that's not enough!" You throw back, "You think- you think your feelings are gonna save me from this? From the shitshow that I'm dealing with now? Ha! Think again," Your voice is scratchy, heavy, your breath out of time and irregular, but you don't care, "You know what the best part about it is, Rosie? I've lost my goddamn mind enough to do it again for you! I'll stick my neck out over- and over- and over- for your stupid, incompetent, inexcusably idiotic self because I-"
love?
you?
Rosalie didn't stick around long enough for you to recover from your coughing as your breathlessness began to catch up with you. Your body shook from the heat, the cold, the pain that grew in your chest like rot on bad meat. Your anger faded into anxiety, and thus began the horrid cycle of restlessness all over again. It was the only thing that had any sting left to it.
Thane yells at you to get some sleep before shutting the medbay doors behind him. You ignored the echo of the metal door nearly coming off its hinges.
It wasn't enough, you thought, ridiculing your own behavior, you weren't enough. And look where that got you.
A dead end.
And not unlike the footsteps of Rosalie running away from you, replaying over and over in your head, you found yourself lost in that miasma of life and death, until sleep finally claimed you.