Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Shhh," She hissed out, trying to stand back up again, and failing to do more than push herself into a meager half-sitting position. "Shhh." She practically fell against his legs, and instinctively curled up against them the moment she realized the warmth that eminated from them. "I'm fine," She whispered, still as hushed as library conversation. "The cold surprised me. I'm all right." She wrapped her arms around herself, and curled up tighter, shuddering as her skin rose in goosebumps. "Thaw's gone. Can't keep me warm. God, I didn't know how dependent we are on them."

She looked up at him, and then at the door where they'd come through, before finally stumbling up to her feet.

"We aren't safe here. Maybe for a little while. But we need to find somewhere safe, where no one can find us." She knew next to nothing about the island, because she'd never bothered to explore it. She held her finger up to her lips, reminding him that if he spoke, he had to do it quietly, before gesturing for him to crouch down with her. "She might see you if you stay standing up. Don't put your back to the door. Do you know anywhere safe?"

The forest was the worst idea. Maebe immediately began to imagine a horror movie scenario, where Mimsy found them hiding alone in the forest, and... well.

Dawson's room didn't sound safe enough, because Mimsy was too clever for that. The Lighthouse, however.. It was staffed, it had security, cameras, and most of all, there was no reason Mimsy would ever think -

"YES." She screamed before finishing the thought, clutching to his leg and shaking it fervently. "The Lighthouse. We should go to the Lighthouse. How do we get there from here? We can't go back downstairs." But that was the only way out of the building, which meant the first leg of the journey would inevitably be the most dangerous.

Maebe started to crawl away from Dawson, looking for another way off of the building. A ladder, a shoot, something. Anything. She couldn't find any way off other than jumping to their deaths. Or maybe just her death. His shield might have saved him. And she'd had quite enough death for one day, so the idea was scrapped as soon as it had come.

"Your weapon doesn't happen to give you the power to fly, does it?" She whispered, grasping at straws.

Staying up there sounded like a much better idea, except for the fact that she was scantily clad and absolutely freezing. She still nodded, because it seemed safe, and then fell quiet as she listened for the sounds of a killer. She didn't respond to him anymore, because it felt suddenly important to put every effort into trying to predict Mimsy's arrival before she came. And just like that, Maebe realized she didn't want Mimsy to kill her anymore. She was scared; scared of death, scared of pain, scared of the nothing that would come from all of it. She'd never been so scared before, and that fear was making her regret ever messaging Mimsy in the first place.

That same fear was also spurning a deep, cathartic hatred for the boy who'd driven her to the brink of nothing, and then abandoned her as she tipped over it.

She loved him, and she hated him. It was a step up from simply loving him, but not quite safe, yet.

"Do you believe in heaven, Dawson?" The question would feel as if it had come out of nowhere, but the quiet intensity with which she'd asked it would give it enough meaning to be taken seriously. She needed to know if someone believed in it, because if heaven existed, so did hell. And that was exactly where she was headed, one day. She just couldn't decide if she was more frightened of the inevitability of hell.. or the possibility of nothing.

She snatched the jacket with nimble, desperate fingers, and wrapped it around her entire curled up body. Instantly she felt the relief, and for the first time ever, she missed Thaw's constant warmth. She wished he would wake up and get back to work, already.

"I was wondering when you'd finally offer me that." The warmth gave Maebe just a hint of her sass back, snarking up at him for having taken so long to offer her his coat. She tempered her sass with a smirk, and then slid her arms through the coat's sleeves, swimming in their size. The coat was still warm on the inside from his body heat, and she stole it all away for herself. Just like a black hole.

"I was raised Christian, but like, only in name. We never went to Church or anything. I think I always believed there was a heaven and hell, but it all seemed so distant and unimportant. Like the way a war feels when it's in some weird country across the globe." She tucked her head in, and the shaking finally slowed. "If you ever meet a woman named Mimsy, please don't tell her you know me. Okay?"

"Meemaw." She repeated, weakly teasing. He was so predictably southern. His accent made her think of the most overused tropes; cornbread and watermelon, racism and tractor pulls. Fields and fields of growing things that probably smelled so healthy, it would make her city lungs cough. She felt the itch in her throat just thinking about it.

Shifting quietly on the floor, she tilted her body to the side, and rested on his legs. "Not really." She answered, her words interrupted with a chuckle. "I'd rather you think better of me than what's actually true. I'll keep you in the dark, where you can't see all the ugly." She reached out and pressed a finger to his nose, wincing as she felt the cold sting of it. "I'm trouble, you know." Her body tightened as she said it. "Someone who once loved me told me that, recently. He's not wrong. But at least I can make sure you don't get in trouble, too."

The fear had faded. She was slowly, easily slipping back into the numbness that had caused her to make the bad decision to contact Mimsy in the first place. The cold helped; it reminded her that it wouldn't be so bad, after all. Maybe it would just be like a long, comfortable sleep. That sounded so good.

"I changed my mind." Maebe murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. "Let's go back downstairs. I'm tired."

She nodded, and slowly pushed herself back up to her feet. "I'm just tired. Maybe I could take a nap. I could really use a nap."

As if to punctuate her words, standing was a difficult procedure and she stumbled just slightly before finally shaking the lethargy away and straightening up. She looked up at Dawson, and quickly read the worry in his expression. She'd never realized how much she missed the feeling of knowing someone was that openly worried about you. It was nice, but not nice enough.

She reached up, and patted his cheek. She felt the cold biting his skin when she touched him, and pulled his jacket off of her in order to put it back around his shoulders. "It'll be okay. I just need to sleep."

If Mimsy came to her while she was sleeping, she'd never feel a thing. She'd never have a chance to be scared, or second guess things. That should have scared her away from sleeping, but it felt more like a relief. She didn't want to die, but if it was inevitable, she only wanted to die in her sleep. At least this way, she'd never get old, and wrinkle, and turn gray. Just like Lawr had once said, a butterfly had to be pinned at the height of its beauty.

And if she didn't come, and Maebe woke up alive and safe, then at least she'd rest easy in the fact that she didn't run away, this time. And that was nice, too.

"Come on." She whispered, taking his hand in hers and tugging it gently towards the door.

Silence never bothered Maebe until very recently. In the silence, she heard herself and the echoes of others until she couldn't distinguish what she was supposed to listen to, and what she should ignore. Her thoughts continued to drift, but Dawson's punctuated humming rippled away the reflections like disturbing a pond. She couldn't focus as well, and it was harder to stay numb, that way.

She rubbed her arm with her free hand, and stumbled lazily forward.

His question elicited the most comfortably familiar response. Of course she wanted him to stay the night. Was that a trick question? Didn't he know who he was dealing with by now? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized the answer was a solid, fearful no for the first time in her life.

"I do, but." She stole a glance at him, and it reaffirmed her belief. "It's not safe. I mean, not a good time. Ask me again some other time, and the answer will be yes." She wanted him to stay, but not enough to risk his life. Not tonight.