In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Eleven: A Team Meeting but We Get Nothing Done

        I'm breathing, but it's hard to hold in any air. I feel light-headed and cold, sweat excreting from my skin. Why is this becoming a problem now? I was fine with it before.

Three days?

I seriously couldn't have just been dead. If Medic hadn't revived me, that'd still be the case. I could very well not be here right now. I didn't even know I was dead that entire time. It only felt like a few moments. No, it didn't. It felt normal. I wouldn't have even known that I was dead had the Miss Pauling in my head not made that clear. I could've lived in that purgatory limbo none the wiser of my mortality status as I labor away in a made-up recreation of my old workplace. I would've continued being a waitress at a diner until time itself stopped. I wouldn't have known that I'd never feel the warmth of the sunshine ever again.

And yet, I'm here. I tremor in uncontrollable dread. The pillow of helplessness smothers me, trapping my fear within my body. I hold myself and pull my legs into a fetal position as I turn onto my side. The room is cold, and my blanket does nothing to prevent it from nipping at my toes. I stare at the wall, my eyes creating shapes from the stucco pattern. I cast a shadow of the soft yellow light that emanates from the flood lamps outside that light up their shipment yard.

Maeve snores gently on her side of the room before turning over and going silent. If I start crying now, she's going to wake up. Despite being thirty-one and completely grown, I should be given a freebie considering. Tears obscure my vision before I even give myself the go-ahead, rolling over the bridge of my nose and speckling the bedsheets as I don't have a pillow to lay my head on. I lift one hand to my mouth and sniffle. The shivering makes it worse. This is stupid.

I sit up and chatter my teeth as I slide out of bed, slowly inching to the bathroom. Admittedly, having a bathroom attached to the room is a step up from the fort. I turn the doorknob to rest the door in the frame before flipping on the lights to wash my face with warm water. The temperature burns my fingertips slightly, but it's soothing to my skin as my body stops quivering from the cold. My stomach still feels wonky and hunger is settling in. I wasn't exactly famished for the entire day, probably from my systems being on the fritz, but now it's settling down. Adam refused to feed us, and I don't think any of us are willing to complain about it later to anyone. The guy acts like a delinquent teenager. I'll let it slide as long as I get breakfast when the time comes.

The soles of my feet pat against the bathroom tiling as I pace around while drying my face with a towel. Standing in the light relieves me from any ache I'm feeling. I'm still afraid, though. I'd better head back to bed. Flipping off the light, I emerge from the bathroom and step over to my bed, getting startled slightly by Maeve moving. Standing still is always a good tactic when sneaking around at night. She remains still, and I turn to look out the window, a silhouette peering in through the glass. I stare at it. It's not threatening, a slender frame watching me move about the room at some obscure hour of the night. My feet stay plastered to my spot as we ogle each other from our respective sides of the glass. My eyes blink. It's gone. "Okay."

My legs wobble as I climb back into bed, sitting with my back against the wall. I wrap my blanket around me and keep my glim trained on the rest of the room. Sleep slowly trickles on me. I start shivering again. Smells of birdseed and sterile alcohol invade my scent. My arms burn as though they've been cut, and Sniper's battle cry of savagery and acrimony rings in my ears. Throat burns and hip pings with a twinge of pain, glimmering shining in my eye from his blade as it's about to plunge into my socket. I jump and gasp, turning to see the morning sun blazing a firey-red into the desert sky. Maeve's alarm clock beeps, and she sluggishly rises from her slumber. Taking her time, she presses it off and looks over at me while sorting out her tangerine hair. A yawn escapes her, causing me to yawn as well.