TW: gaslighting
Your Daughter (an indie horror film) (oneshot)
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Your Daughter (an indie horror film)
R3N41SS4NC3
Professional Carol Understander
- Pronouns
- It/Its
TW: Gaslighting
May, 1994
The sound of cooing and babbling - babytalk - greeted Carol upon her return home.
She was instantly on guard, ready to hide or strike at a moment's notice, as she passed through the entryway, not risking closing the door for fear the sound might alert whoever is inside if they were somehow deaf to her entrance, stopping only to take off her work shoes, again for the noise. She creeps through the house silently, takes out her makeup compact, peers around the corner with it, and sees her sister.
The tension does not abate. Sarah is not supposed to be here right now. She wouldn't come over unannounced, not even if it were Brigade business. They came up with pager codes specifically for calling such meetings or sending such messages, and Carol did not receive any such message. So either the Sarah in her living room forgot to send a message - not a complete impossibility, loathe as she is to admit her sister's tendency towards airheadedness - or the woman in front of her is not Sarah at all.
Could the Brigade be compromised by any Shifters or a Fakers? Or perhaps even a Master? If "Sarah" is real, or even controlled by a villain, she can't risk attacking and crippling or killing her, but if she's a Shifter or Faker, can she afford to risk not attacking with everything she has?
…No. She can't let her paranoia control her here. If it's a Shifter or Faker, this is likely their only power, the facsimile she sees, and if it's Sarah, with her own power, she could be controlled, which means Carol can't attack yet.
The thought that this could be a Fairy Queen copycat isn't worth entertaining. If this isn't Sarah, but has her powers, the Brigade is already dead.
She scans the room as closely as she can with her hand mirror, checking to see if anyone else is there. If any of the rest of her team has been compromised. The only other living being in the room is a baby swaddled to "Sarah's" chest. A hostage? Crystal? No, Crystal is too old for swaddling now. Still though, a hostage. She'll have to act decisively, if it comes to that.
She calls out, "How was the drive over? Was there any traffic?"
'Sarah' looks up and rolls her eyes when she spots the mirror angled around the corner. She responds, "Traffic was fine, but I hit every red light." Then, "Stop playing games Carol. Geez, you'd think you didn't know I was here."
That twigs Carol as odd, but she stands and enters the living room proper, ready to curl up at the slightest hint of something being wrong. 'Sarah' knew the first passphrase, but that is the one that every member of the Brigade is ready to give up under interrogation, to lure any villainous Shifters, Fakers, or Masters into a false sense of security. The real test begins only now.
"What color is the sky today?" she asks once she's in striking range, her hair trigger restraint the only thing sparing the potential villain's head a hole.
Sarah narrows her eyes. Not enough to attack, not yet. Sarah's usual mannerisms of annoyance. "Clear skies, with purple on the horizon. Now would you calm down already?"
Carol finally, finally lowers her guard. Visually. She stays ready to curl up, just in case. One can never be too careful when dealing with these sorts of situations. "You didn't page me that you were coming over with…" She eyes the baby. Obviously a newborn. Over a year too young to be her niece, though it looks just like she did at that age.
"Really? You forgot you asked me to watch Victoria?" Sarah sighs. "You really haven't had your head on straight these last few months, have you?"
"Victoria?" Carol asks uncomprehendingly.
"Going back to work so soon must have really messed with your head, more than it has been these last couple months." She shakes her head. "I told you you should have taken more maternity leave than just a month, but you insisted. I'm just glad you're finally home. Victoria's been so fussy without her mommy, isn't that right? Yes it is! Yes it is!" she coos the final part at 'Victoria.'
"Wait, 'mommy?' Sarah, I don't- I am not a mother; what are you talking about?"
Sarah purses her lips and passes the baby to Carol, who takes it if only to stop Sarah from dropping it, and lays a hand on her forehead. "You're not feeling warm… Have you not eaten today? Or eaten something funky?"
"What are you saying? Would you-" She bites back her snarl and starts again in a more restrained tone, if only barely. "Please start making sense, would you?"
"Carrie-" Carol shrinks internally at the use of her childhood nickname "-you're really worrying me. Do you seriously not remember your daughter?"
Eyes wide, Carol can only gape and sputter in response. "I do not- have a- a daughter!"
"Oh- oh shit. Here, come on, take a seat okay? It's okay." Sarah coos and leads her to sit beside her on the couch and wraps her in a hug, arms holding her own against the baby- her baby? "Carrie, you're here, you're safe, you're not in the Room-" She flinches at even that, the most gentle of reminders "- anymore. We're out. We got out. We're safe now, okay? We're in your house. Your home, your beautiful home with your handsome husband Mark upstairs and your adorable baby girl Victoria in your arms. Everything is okay now."
Carol is shaking in Sarah's arms, limbs locked from the outside by her sister's embrace and soothing words, stopped from the inside by the baby-- Her baby? That feels so wrong to even think. If this baby were hers, she would know. She would. Wouldn't she? She feels so confused, so uncertain and scared, looking at this baby she could swear she's never seen before in her life. She has forgotten things before, has needed Sarah to remind her, but could- could she have really forgotten something so dear as a child? Her mind screams at her that no, she wouldn't forget something like that, that a child of all things could not be forgotten, but her sister is whispering reassurances in her ear, telling her that it's all okay, that now that she has her darling baby Victoria, things are okay.
Carol nearly vomits from the dread and shame as she sobs, "I don't remember her."
Sarah hums, the vibrations reverberating in Carol's skull from where it's placed in the crook of Sarah's neck. It's nice. Grounding, in this moment of overwhelming lostness. "It's okay, you're okay, Carrie. This probably isn't a mind-altering villain's work." Carol's heart seizes in her chest at the thought. It- that couldn't be what happened, could it? What would there even be to gain? "It's probably just stress, your mind trying to cope with the rapid changes and trauma of childbirth. I don't blame you for forgetting eight hours of labor, without Mark even there to support you. And waddling around for the last trimester, barely able to get out of bed? That must have been so hard, wasn't it? At least I could fly. I don't blame you for trying to forget those parts."
"N-no, I wasn't-" She struggles out of Sarah's grip, feeling intensely the hand that remains on her shoulder. "I wasn't pregnant-- If I were pregnant, I would remember that."
"You seriously don't remember getting Mark to move your desk to your bedside so you could work from home? Or calling me over every other night to bring you pickles and horseradish?"
"Pickles and- what?"
"You craved them all the time! Which, I'm not judging, you were there for me with Crystal. The cravings are powerful, and you could barely get out of bed the last few months, you were so swollen. You remember being bedridden, don't you?"
She does, but- "I was recovering from an injury. From when Manpower threw a thug into me, not- not baby. I don't remember-- I wasn't pregnant."
"Carrie, sweetie, what are you talking about? We wouldn't let you out into a fight like that, not so late into your pregnancy. You're really worrying me." Sarah sounded so concerned, Carol couldn't resist when she pulled her in for another hug. "Tell me you at least remember introducing Victoria to Crystal. Or how you called me just last week to complain about barely being able to sleep."
Sarah continues to tell her stories about her- pregnancy. The one Carol cannot remember, not- not really. But the more Sarah talks, the more things Carol starts to remember. The pieces don't quite line up, the memories not quite fitting how Sarah tells them, but-- That's normal, isn't it? For people to remember things differently? She clings to that idea, that maybe this really is just her mind playing tricks on her and not enemy action, not the insidious, untraceable touch of a villain in her mind. She can't give him any more than he's already taken, she refuses, so she clings to the memories Sarah gives her, forces herself to remember correctly, to shove her sister's words into place despite the jagged edges of wrongness that bring her to the edge of sick.
Eventually, too soon, before Sarah's finished helping Carol get her head on straight, Victoria starts to cry. She's no doubt had enough of the adults shaking and crying around her, and Carol pulls herself out of her big sister's embrace, sniffles up the snot that had begun to drip from her nose, and hushes the- her baby. She can't- she can almost remember doing this before, and the motions come so naturally. Bouncing and rocking Victoria feels so right and natural, and- her baby soon quiets.
Baby Victoria looks up at her, and she looks down at her, and they both just look at each other. And then her baby blows a raspberry at her and Carol cannot help but to smile at her baby. Her baby. This baby that came from her, that was part of her, that is hers.
"Hello Victoria. Did you miss Mo-" She cuts herself off and looks to Sarah, who nods. She gently clears her throat and tries again. "Did you miss M-mommy while she was at work?"
Victoria babbles up at her mommy, and Carol knows that the noises are not words, could not possibly be words at this vulnerable age, but she can hear the unprotected, fearless "I love you, Mommy" in that gurgling, and Carol clings to those imagined words like a pillow in the dark.
"There we go," whispers Sarah, smiling. "I knew you'd remember."
Hesitant to disappoint her sister who has just done so much for her, Carol forces a smile instead of letting out the screaming tightness in her chest and turns back to- her darling baby Victoria.
"If you think you're going to be okay now, I should probably get back home to Neil. He always has trouble falling asleep when I'm out late. Call me if you need me, okay?"
"Goodbye Sarah. Thank you again for- watching Victoria for me?" Sarah nods. "It was nice to see you again, it feels like it's been months since we last did anything together." She misses her sister, usually such a constant in her life.
"We could go out for drinks this weekend, if you want. Let the boys watch our girls and have fun. Maybe see if Jess wants to come, make it a girl's night?"
Carol tries to not let on how awful of a time that sounds, drinking with that hussy- with Mike's girlfriend. Drinking at all when her head feels so cottony sharp feels like a bad idea. So she tries to smile and nod, noncommittal yet amicable.
When the door closes behind Sarah and the house is quiet and empty again, the feeling of lostness returns, softened by Victoria's burbling. Carol pulls a tissue from her purse and wipes away the spittle dribbling down her baby's chin. She really is so… tiny. Small, soft, weak, and perfect: her daughter.
She glances around the room, then whispers to her baby, "Hello Victoria. How are you today? You behaved well for my sister, I take it? That's good. Yes, that's. Good. I admit, I'm not entirely certain what I'm supposed to do with you now. I was going to go over some of my legal homework tonight. Would you like to watch Mommy do her homework?"
Victoria starts to cry.
"Very well, I'll not subject you to that," she says as she bounces her baby in her arms. "I suppose I cannot blame you, it isn't something I'm too excited about either. Perhaps Mark - your father - would watch you while I work? Would you like that? Oh just please stop crying, it's okay, you're okay, Victoria, you don't need to cry so loudly I am right here. Okay, um, bouncing isn't working-- Are you- are you hungry? Dammit I didn't ask Sarah when she last fed you."
She bounces to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to look for formula. It's there, in plain sight at the front, which strikes her as odd because she always puts the milk right there-- Baby is crying, now's not the time to think about her own fridge layout choices. She pulls it out and starts following the instructions to mix and heat it: harder than it should be, with only the one arm free. Where the hell is Mark?
Minutes of screaming hell later, Victoria quiets down, latching onto the rubber nipple, and Carol can breathe a sigh of relief. That… wasn't so hard. Annoying and painful, but not that hard. She can do this- has done this; it's nothing new, after all; she's been doing it for- months? Sarah said she's been on leave for a month so… Yes, months. Months is right.
When Victoria is done feeding, and after Carol burps her, she falls asleep. Despite her headache, Carol smiles at, her daughter. She's so tired, so absolutely wiped. Maybe a power nap before starting on her homework isn't such a bad idea, she thinks. She just needs to put Victoria to bed in her… Carol blinks as she tries to remember if Victoria has her own room yet. Her and Mark's house is too small for that, isn't it? Unless they replaced the home office, but she would never allow that, not with so much paperwork to do for her job, classes, and the Brigade.
So… where does Victoria sleep?
The cottony-sharp feeling in her head grows dangerously for a moment before she shakes it off. If Victoria isn't in Carol's office, then she must be in the bedroom with her and Mark; it's the only thing that makes sense. It's the only thing that makes sense.
When she nears her bedroom door, it opens and Mark steps out. He looks at her and Victoria with almost dead eyes: a bad day, no wonder Sarah had to come over and babysit. His expression lifts and screws with confusion when he spots the baby in her arms. He rubs at his eyes and looks again.
"Carol, dear, who's the baby?" he asks slowly. Gently. Uncertain. Her chest turns to ice.
"You don't remember our child." She isn't sure if it's a question or a statement.
"Oh! Uh, of course I do, of course I remember-" He looks around in a panic, his eyes landing on the wall behind her. "-Victoria. Our baby. You're not uh, looking so good. How about I take- our… baby? And you go lay down for a bit."
He reaches out to Victoria to take her, and she lets him take her, feeling numb. "She's asleep," she explains. "I was going to put her in her crib."
"Ah. Right. Okay. Where um- where's her crib?"
She wants to vomit as she points through the open door to the crib at the foot of their bed. He blinks. Face screws up again. Goes to put her down.
Carol turns around, to see what he was staring at. A picture. On the wall. Hanging on the wall. She swears it wasn't here yesterday. Or this morning. A picture of her, and the baby. Her baby. The two of them. In a hospital room. She- just gave birth to Victoria? She looks so tired, so happy, holding her newborn. At the bottom is the caption: Victoria and her Mommy.
She's tired. She's so, so… tired.
[A/N: what if victoria was sarah's daughter lmao]
[Edit: fix formatting]
May, 1994
The sound of cooing and babbling - babytalk - greeted Carol upon her return home.
She was instantly on guard, ready to hide or strike at a moment's notice, as she passed through the entryway, not risking closing the door for fear the sound might alert whoever is inside if they were somehow deaf to her entrance, stopping only to take off her work shoes, again for the noise. She creeps through the house silently, takes out her makeup compact, peers around the corner with it, and sees her sister.
The tension does not abate. Sarah is not supposed to be here right now. She wouldn't come over unannounced, not even if it were Brigade business. They came up with pager codes specifically for calling such meetings or sending such messages, and Carol did not receive any such message. So either the Sarah in her living room forgot to send a message - not a complete impossibility, loathe as she is to admit her sister's tendency towards airheadedness - or the woman in front of her is not Sarah at all.
Could the Brigade be compromised by any Shifters or a Fakers? Or perhaps even a Master? If "Sarah" is real, or even controlled by a villain, she can't risk attacking and crippling or killing her, but if she's a Shifter or Faker, can she afford to risk not attacking with everything she has?
…No. She can't let her paranoia control her here. If it's a Shifter or Faker, this is likely their only power, the facsimile she sees, and if it's Sarah, with her own power, she could be controlled, which means Carol can't attack yet.
The thought that this could be a Fairy Queen copycat isn't worth entertaining. If this isn't Sarah, but has her powers, the Brigade is already dead.
She scans the room as closely as she can with her hand mirror, checking to see if anyone else is there. If any of the rest of her team has been compromised. The only other living being in the room is a baby swaddled to "Sarah's" chest. A hostage? Crystal? No, Crystal is too old for swaddling now. Still though, a hostage. She'll have to act decisively, if it comes to that.
She calls out, "How was the drive over? Was there any traffic?"
'Sarah' looks up and rolls her eyes when she spots the mirror angled around the corner. She responds, "Traffic was fine, but I hit every red light." Then, "Stop playing games Carol. Geez, you'd think you didn't know I was here."
That twigs Carol as odd, but she stands and enters the living room proper, ready to curl up at the slightest hint of something being wrong. 'Sarah' knew the first passphrase, but that is the one that every member of the Brigade is ready to give up under interrogation, to lure any villainous Shifters, Fakers, or Masters into a false sense of security. The real test begins only now.
"What color is the sky today?" she asks once she's in striking range, her hair trigger restraint the only thing sparing the potential villain's head a hole.
Sarah narrows her eyes. Not enough to attack, not yet. Sarah's usual mannerisms of annoyance. "Clear skies, with purple on the horizon. Now would you calm down already?"
Carol finally, finally lowers her guard. Visually. She stays ready to curl up, just in case. One can never be too careful when dealing with these sorts of situations. "You didn't page me that you were coming over with…" She eyes the baby. Obviously a newborn. Over a year too young to be her niece, though it looks just like she did at that age.
"Really? You forgot you asked me to watch Victoria?" Sarah sighs. "You really haven't had your head on straight these last few months, have you?"
"Victoria?" Carol asks uncomprehendingly.
"Going back to work so soon must have really messed with your head, more than it has been these last couple months." She shakes her head. "I told you you should have taken more maternity leave than just a month, but you insisted. I'm just glad you're finally home. Victoria's been so fussy without her mommy, isn't that right? Yes it is! Yes it is!" she coos the final part at 'Victoria.'
"Wait, 'mommy?' Sarah, I don't- I am not a mother; what are you talking about?"
Sarah purses her lips and passes the baby to Carol, who takes it if only to stop Sarah from dropping it, and lays a hand on her forehead. "You're not feeling warm… Have you not eaten today? Or eaten something funky?"
"What are you saying? Would you-" She bites back her snarl and starts again in a more restrained tone, if only barely. "Please start making sense, would you?"
"Carrie-" Carol shrinks internally at the use of her childhood nickname "-you're really worrying me. Do you seriously not remember your daughter?"
Eyes wide, Carol can only gape and sputter in response. "I do not- have a- a daughter!"
"Oh- oh shit. Here, come on, take a seat okay? It's okay." Sarah coos and leads her to sit beside her on the couch and wraps her in a hug, arms holding her own against the baby- her baby? "Carrie, you're here, you're safe, you're not in the Room-" She flinches at even that, the most gentle of reminders "- anymore. We're out. We got out. We're safe now, okay? We're in your house. Your home, your beautiful home with your handsome husband Mark upstairs and your adorable baby girl Victoria in your arms. Everything is okay now."
Carol is shaking in Sarah's arms, limbs locked from the outside by her sister's embrace and soothing words, stopped from the inside by the baby-- Her baby? That feels so wrong to even think. If this baby were hers, she would know. She would. Wouldn't she? She feels so confused, so uncertain and scared, looking at this baby she could swear she's never seen before in her life. She has forgotten things before, has needed Sarah to remind her, but could- could she have really forgotten something so dear as a child? Her mind screams at her that no, she wouldn't forget something like that, that a child of all things could not be forgotten, but her sister is whispering reassurances in her ear, telling her that it's all okay, that now that she has her darling baby Victoria, things are okay.
Carol nearly vomits from the dread and shame as she sobs, "I don't remember her."
Sarah hums, the vibrations reverberating in Carol's skull from where it's placed in the crook of Sarah's neck. It's nice. Grounding, in this moment of overwhelming lostness. "It's okay, you're okay, Carrie. This probably isn't a mind-altering villain's work." Carol's heart seizes in her chest at the thought. It- that couldn't be what happened, could it? What would there even be to gain? "It's probably just stress, your mind trying to cope with the rapid changes and trauma of childbirth. I don't blame you for forgetting eight hours of labor, without Mark even there to support you. And waddling around for the last trimester, barely able to get out of bed? That must have been so hard, wasn't it? At least I could fly. I don't blame you for trying to forget those parts."
"N-no, I wasn't-" She struggles out of Sarah's grip, feeling intensely the hand that remains on her shoulder. "I wasn't pregnant-- If I were pregnant, I would remember that."
"You seriously don't remember getting Mark to move your desk to your bedside so you could work from home? Or calling me over every other night to bring you pickles and horseradish?"
"Pickles and- what?"
"You craved them all the time! Which, I'm not judging, you were there for me with Crystal. The cravings are powerful, and you could barely get out of bed the last few months, you were so swollen. You remember being bedridden, don't you?"
She does, but- "I was recovering from an injury. From when Manpower threw a thug into me, not- not baby. I don't remember-- I wasn't pregnant."
"Carrie, sweetie, what are you talking about? We wouldn't let you out into a fight like that, not so late into your pregnancy. You're really worrying me." Sarah sounded so concerned, Carol couldn't resist when she pulled her in for another hug. "Tell me you at least remember introducing Victoria to Crystal. Or how you called me just last week to complain about barely being able to sleep."
Sarah continues to tell her stories about her- pregnancy. The one Carol cannot remember, not- not really. But the more Sarah talks, the more things Carol starts to remember. The pieces don't quite line up, the memories not quite fitting how Sarah tells them, but-- That's normal, isn't it? For people to remember things differently? She clings to that idea, that maybe this really is just her mind playing tricks on her and not enemy action, not the insidious, untraceable touch of a villain in her mind. She can't give him any more than he's already taken, she refuses, so she clings to the memories Sarah gives her, forces herself to remember correctly, to shove her sister's words into place despite the jagged edges of wrongness that bring her to the edge of sick.
Eventually, too soon, before Sarah's finished helping Carol get her head on straight, Victoria starts to cry. She's no doubt had enough of the adults shaking and crying around her, and Carol pulls herself out of her big sister's embrace, sniffles up the snot that had begun to drip from her nose, and hushes the- her baby. She can't- she can almost remember doing this before, and the motions come so naturally. Bouncing and rocking Victoria feels so right and natural, and- her baby soon quiets.
Baby Victoria looks up at her, and she looks down at her, and they both just look at each other. And then her baby blows a raspberry at her and Carol cannot help but to smile at her baby. Her baby. This baby that came from her, that was part of her, that is hers.
"Hello Victoria. Did you miss Mo-" She cuts herself off and looks to Sarah, who nods. She gently clears her throat and tries again. "Did you miss M-mommy while she was at work?"
Victoria babbles up at her mommy, and Carol knows that the noises are not words, could not possibly be words at this vulnerable age, but she can hear the unprotected, fearless "I love you, Mommy" in that gurgling, and Carol clings to those imagined words like a pillow in the dark.
"There we go," whispers Sarah, smiling. "I knew you'd remember."
Hesitant to disappoint her sister who has just done so much for her, Carol forces a smile instead of letting out the screaming tightness in her chest and turns back to- her darling baby Victoria.
"If you think you're going to be okay now, I should probably get back home to Neil. He always has trouble falling asleep when I'm out late. Call me if you need me, okay?"
"Goodbye Sarah. Thank you again for- watching Victoria for me?" Sarah nods. "It was nice to see you again, it feels like it's been months since we last did anything together." She misses her sister, usually such a constant in her life.
"We could go out for drinks this weekend, if you want. Let the boys watch our girls and have fun. Maybe see if Jess wants to come, make it a girl's night?"
Carol tries to not let on how awful of a time that sounds, drinking with that hussy- with Mike's girlfriend. Drinking at all when her head feels so cottony sharp feels like a bad idea. So she tries to smile and nod, noncommittal yet amicable.
When the door closes behind Sarah and the house is quiet and empty again, the feeling of lostness returns, softened by Victoria's burbling. Carol pulls a tissue from her purse and wipes away the spittle dribbling down her baby's chin. She really is so… tiny. Small, soft, weak, and perfect: her daughter.
She glances around the room, then whispers to her baby, "Hello Victoria. How are you today? You behaved well for my sister, I take it? That's good. Yes, that's. Good. I admit, I'm not entirely certain what I'm supposed to do with you now. I was going to go over some of my legal homework tonight. Would you like to watch Mommy do her homework?"
Victoria starts to cry.
"Very well, I'll not subject you to that," she says as she bounces her baby in her arms. "I suppose I cannot blame you, it isn't something I'm too excited about either. Perhaps Mark - your father - would watch you while I work? Would you like that? Oh just please stop crying, it's okay, you're okay, Victoria, you don't need to cry so loudly I am right here. Okay, um, bouncing isn't working-- Are you- are you hungry? Dammit I didn't ask Sarah when she last fed you."
She bounces to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to look for formula. It's there, in plain sight at the front, which strikes her as odd because she always puts the milk right there-- Baby is crying, now's not the time to think about her own fridge layout choices. She pulls it out and starts following the instructions to mix and heat it: harder than it should be, with only the one arm free. Where the hell is Mark?
Minutes of screaming hell later, Victoria quiets down, latching onto the rubber nipple, and Carol can breathe a sigh of relief. That… wasn't so hard. Annoying and painful, but not that hard. She can do this- has done this; it's nothing new, after all; she's been doing it for- months? Sarah said she's been on leave for a month so… Yes, months. Months is right.
When Victoria is done feeding, and after Carol burps her, she falls asleep. Despite her headache, Carol smiles at, her daughter. She's so tired, so absolutely wiped. Maybe a power nap before starting on her homework isn't such a bad idea, she thinks. She just needs to put Victoria to bed in her… Carol blinks as she tries to remember if Victoria has her own room yet. Her and Mark's house is too small for that, isn't it? Unless they replaced the home office, but she would never allow that, not with so much paperwork to do for her job, classes, and the Brigade.
So… where does Victoria sleep?
The cottony-sharp feeling in her head grows dangerously for a moment before she shakes it off. If Victoria isn't in Carol's office, then she must be in the bedroom with her and Mark; it's the only thing that makes sense. It's the only thing that makes sense.
When she nears her bedroom door, it opens and Mark steps out. He looks at her and Victoria with almost dead eyes: a bad day, no wonder Sarah had to come over and babysit. His expression lifts and screws with confusion when he spots the baby in her arms. He rubs at his eyes and looks again.
"Carol, dear, who's the baby?" he asks slowly. Gently. Uncertain. Her chest turns to ice.
"You don't remember our child." She isn't sure if it's a question or a statement.
"Oh! Uh, of course I do, of course I remember-" He looks around in a panic, his eyes landing on the wall behind her. "-Victoria. Our baby. You're not uh, looking so good. How about I take- our… baby? And you go lay down for a bit."
He reaches out to Victoria to take her, and she lets him take her, feeling numb. "She's asleep," she explains. "I was going to put her in her crib."
"Ah. Right. Okay. Where um- where's her crib?"
She wants to vomit as she points through the open door to the crib at the foot of their bed. He blinks. Face screws up again. Goes to put her down.
Carol turns around, to see what he was staring at. A picture. On the wall. Hanging on the wall. She swears it wasn't here yesterday. Or this morning. A picture of her, and the baby. Her baby. The two of them. In a hospital room. She- just gave birth to Victoria? She looks so tired, so happy, holding her newborn. At the bottom is the caption: Victoria and her Mommy.
She's tired. She's so, so… tired.
[A/N: what if victoria was sarah's daughter lmao]
[Edit: fix formatting]
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- Location
- Washington State
Well that was unsettling ^_^ GoOD work.
That was disturbing in all the right ways. I applaud you.
R3N41SS4NC3
Professional Carol Understander
- Pronouns
- It/Its
Obsessed with how you reacted "Funny" bc lmaooooo, my gf and I were laughing so damn hard when I was coming up with this idea. Sarah is always shown as the happier, healthier, more well rounded counterpart to Carol, and honestly that's just such a disservice. Sarah really said "take this rando kid u dont want and can't trust" and ppl think she's sane?! Nah, she's controlling and obsessed with putting forward the idea of perfection: always with the best of intentions, certainly, but there's no way she's okay. Lol.
I'm glad y'all liked it! thanks for reading <3