drawing_a_blank | IC Inbox

As soon as Norman was sure the Neapoliteens - Reira, Rachel, Sonic, and Dib - were okay, he ran a file over his claws the way he'd begun to every morning, grabbed a few blueberry bagels and a bottle of ginger ale from the kitchen, and made his way to the 38-8.

"Zeki," he called out, knocking at the door. "It's Norman."

For a few moments, there wasn't any sound at all. Then a quiet shuffling sound. The peephole opened (can't be too careful)...followed by the slide latch, the deadbolt, and the knob lock.

The door cracked open a couple of inches and Zeki peered out. In a distracted and half assed attempt at self care, she's put on a robe...but it's just over her regular clothes. Nor has it occurred to her to take an aspirin for her headache.

"Norman...?"

Distress momentarily set aside, she threw the door open and pulled him into a hug.

"Aghk-"

He shifted a little, nearly dropping the provisions, then managed to hug her back. There was absolutely nothing to her, he thought idly, and the hug felt a little odd, as though her body couldn't decide where it actually became solid. He realized that, like Bruno, she was likely discovering she didn't have much time left to physically interact with people, and his heart went out to her. He pulled her a little closer, tucking his chin onto her shoulder.

"Okay." Telling her everything would be fine was a lie. Telling her things would get better was, too. But still, he had to reassure her of something, even if it was just telling her that she could cling on to him in the middle of her doorway. "... Okay."

Zeki wasn't ordinarily a hugger. But these were extraordinary circumstances in a brave new world and there was a lot in that hug. Losing her body was certainly a very big part of it, along with the comments she'd received on the network agreeing that humans were nothing but food, that there were no police and that no one would or could be held accountable, and that what she saw was what she was becoming.

It was too much. Until Norman arrived, Zeki had been lying on the floor with a splitting headache, laptop closed and put under the bed where she might never open it again. And when she answered the door, she saw someone who understood her context, who came from the same place and the same time and understood. So she clung to him in the middle of her storm like he was the only thing keeping her from falling into the churning sea.

"I can't do it," she cried into his collar, "Did you see what he did to them, I ca..hnn... It's like when they cut that guy's head off and they showed it on CBS, fucking CBS, but so much worse. I don't- I don't want to be that."

During her sniffling and crying and cathartic outpouring, something beyond Zeki's notice began to happen. When he pulled her closer, she seemed to...not quite stop. The more she wanted to sink into him, be enveloped, be protected, the more it seemed to happen, until she leaned in so far...

...that she was left hugging herself.

"And what the fuck is wrong with wanting a security system?! Jesus Christ, this place, this awful place, Norman. Nuh- ... Norman?"

She turned in a circle. Was she heavier than usual?

"I don't want to be that," she said... and then ... and then he was being pushed. Pushed in a way he thought he'd left behind forever. Panic seized Norman as he took the backseat in his own mind again, and the woman he'd been holding actually melted into his torso like - well, like a shade. But he wasn't in any position to be logical or rational.

NO. PLEASE - PLEASE DON'T-- NOT AGAIN, PLEASE....!

A kaleidoscope of feelings hit Zeki like a freight train, knocking the breath out of her, primary among them paralyzing terror and a crashing wave of something negative and unwelcoming. Like walking into a crowded room and having everyone look at you, wanting you to leave, to get out, get out, get out.

She didn't know what it meant, their mutual grief and fear combining and compounding so that she couldn't tell the difference between them.

What happened?

- PLEASE DON'T -

WHAT HAPPENED?

- NOT AGAIN -

"Norman?" She clapped his hands over his mouth - what the f- then drew them away and looked at them in horror. Not hers. Not hers. NOT HERS. In a panic, she tried to rush to her mirror but fell flat on his face after the first step, scrambling the rest of the way on hands and knees and...

... And Norman's terror stricken face stared back at her. A low, agonized groan escaped his throat. Had she had destroyed his soul just like she'd seen that other shade do?

NO NO NO NO NO NO, I'M SORRY, PLEASE, I'M SO SORRY, PLEASE COME BACK, NORMAN, PLEASE

Out loud, her voice came as the high, reedy whimper of a desperately frightened 46 year old man hanging over his fireplace and crying, 'I can't!'.

"I'm sorry."

Going to the mirror was quite possibly the worst thing Zeki could have done. That fear intensified, accompanied by a flash of a thought, a memory: Follow the cold shiver running down your spine.

He wanted so badly to close his eyes, to not see his own panic-stricken reflection. He was terrified that any moment his expression would shift to that triumphant sneer... But when he opened his mouth, it was his own voice that spoke, plaintive and broken as he'd ever felt at the Goblin's heel, and drowned out by Zeki's voice wailing in his mind.

I need to get a grip: t's over, it's done, this is Zeki, it's only Zeki, it's safe, you're safe, I'M SAFE, WE'RE SAFE. ... Zeki? Zeki, can you - is this - what the hell is going on?

When the voice shot through her, it was like being dropped into icy water. It was so foreign and wicked and unexpected that it sent her scuttling backwards until she hit the wall.

"Who is that?!"

And now...now that she was looking for another presence, she felt it. She could feel something behind the fear, something lost and confused. Something that didn't match that dreadful voice and that she knew instinctively wasn't bad.

She closed his eyes. (get a grip) Drew his knees up and leaned over them, (safe) hands in his hair, (Zeki) taking deep breaths. (Zeki?) And heard her name.

It was so clear that she looked up with wide eyes.

"Norman?"

It was like he was right next to her, right in her ear. Except he wasn't anywhere to be seen, obviously, because she was in his body.

What the hell is going on?

"I'm - I -"

Are you there? Are you really there? Norman, I'm sorry, I thought I hurt you, I thought I killed you, are you okay?

Of course I'm here, it's my body, it's my brain, Zeki, what just happened? I can't do this. There are so many reasons this is really, really not good for either of us, whatever it is.

A part of him knew he should be trying to calm her down, to be the better person here, but he was too distraught at having another voice in his head, even if it was as un-Goblin-like as it could get, and his body betrayed both of them, despite whichever was truly in control. His heart started to pound, and Zeki would feel the room tilting on an invisible axis between Norman's hands and knees as she crouched on the floor. Every joint began to tense and lock.

If she had never experienced the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, she was about to first hand.

How do we stop this?

Being able to distinguish between his distress and hers made no difference in how thoroughly she was feeling it as it multiplied and fed off itself, growing heavier and more crushing every moment that passed.

What just happened? What just...

I don't...kn...hnnnow

If she'd been thinking clearly, Zeki would have been able to guess pretty quickly what had just happened. But at the moment, it was taking all her strength and will just to process Norman's words and reply to them with more than incoherent gibbering.

I can't do this, he said. I can't do this. The words echoed in her head and Norman may or may not have been able to discern the wash of guilt that swept over her.

This was her fault. She didn't know what happened or how it happened or how to make it stop happening, but in a brief moment of clarity, Zeki knew that she was making it happen. He was hurting and she was causing it.

I'm so- sor- oh! oh nn...

She let out a high, thin gasp as the vertigo hit, straightening his back and flattening his hands against the wall. It didn't help. His stomach flipped and his body was shaking, sweating, spinning-

Stop - please!

Maybe it was the panic attack, maybe it was the intense fear, or maybe it was the possession itself, but Zeki felt suddenly giddy and lightheaded. Exhausted. Receding. Fading? She didn't think it in words - or if she did, it was too weak to actualize, but as she loses her hold over his limbs, Norman is welcome to perceive a vague apprehension about whether she might be dying and whether that might be okay.

As soon as Norman was sure the Neapoliteens - Reira, Rachel, Sonic, and Dib - were okay, he ran a file over his claws the way he'd begun to every morning, grabbed a few blueberry bagels and a bottle of ginger ale from the kitchen, and made his way to the 38-8.

"Zeki," he called out, knocking at the door. "It's Norman."

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In Person - after Atem's broadcast blows up the network

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cw: real ptsd hours

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In Person - after Atem's broadcast blows up the network

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ZEKI. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 04.01.19.76 * Z has joined 04.01.19.76 <Z>Hi. This is Zeki Barrone. I might be home or I might be out or I might be questioning my existence and sense of self while staring into the cold, starless vacuum in the mirror. <Z>**Please leave your repressed memories, forbidden knowledge, the memory of a horsehair sofa, or that one confusing and shameful summer in Costa Rica, and I'll get back to you.