i/?

"i'm sorry," saïs said as she undid her corset. swift fingers, tugging at the strings, knew just what to do and how to do it. her spine softly creaked as she pulled it away from her hips, allowing her to take a soft sigh of relief as it came off and her undershirt had unraveled from its bunch.

thea had tried looking her in the eyes in vain as she avoided contact. "no, i understand," and a sigh. she undid her own bun, taking out pin after pin, and undoing each twirl of the ribbon with a gentle motion. "this just isn't right." she laid back against the pillows. "it's an invasion of privacy."

saïs sat on the bed, "and here you are, complying anyway." she looked pointedly to an exasperated face. "i said sorry, and you said you understood."

"look, you said it wouldn't hurt to try." thea said as a crease formed on her forehead.

"and it won't." she laid herself on the bed, and put her arm across the other's stomach. "now close your eyes, we have thirty minutes before we get there," she patted her on her stomach.

"so trust me on this." she could hear her honey voice, but she couldn't see anything. her vision was adjusting, shifting to the darkness. she could feel her hands flipping in the dark until, somehow, she can make out her finger tips, paled in this lighting. she was powder white, and acutely aware of her pallor now. she was right when they were holding hands, her pale fingers intertwined with long tan ones. and her legs, she could feel them as she willed to move forward. she felt mud cling to her ankles, and branches whip at her knees. there was a coarseness, moist if not slimy, at her fingertips. she navigated almost like her body knew the way. muscle memory had taken over as her senses had washed over her consciousness. all her senses were too overwhelming, she felt a shudder overcome her. the breeze was too cold for what little she was wearing, she knew her shoulders would be flushed. the pine scent was too nostalgic for words. she knew this place somehow. somehow, she couldn't put a finger on any abstract thing to describe what she was feeling now, but it was all at the tip of her tongue.

the scene shifted as her eyes adjusted, and there she saw herself, a younger self, huddled halfway into the foxhole she had often gone to when she was scared. armidael– the name had popped into her conscious– knew it was good for her brain to imagine, so he would let her play in the woods during her breaks from studying. and she would go into the foxhole she had kept her dolls in. they were in a different world from her, she knew. she had a stuffed dog in there named toto, and adventures and fever dreams stuffed into a space where any adult could just barely fit.

and in she was, in a fever dream in the middle of winter. another day she had almost– just almost– died in. it was a more humble way to go than the other days she could have, and far happier.

thea kneeled by the foxhole and stared at it with much nostalgia. she drew small circles in the snow with a bare finger, embracing the freezing cold and the texture of the snow, knowing she would not lose it to frostbite. this, she remembered from the dream:

they were both sopping wet from the rain. the little warmth they can share with each other was all they could offer. everything would have been fine if she could just find a river and some soap to wash toto with, even when he hated water. at least that way one of them would not be as muddy and he would be more pleased with the situation. not that there was anything to be pleased with. all this was unfortunate-- she and her dog had found their way into the middle of a hurricane somehow. and unfortunate still, they managed to be cold and wet in an unknown city. a city, she presumed, this did not look at all like home so it might as well be what a city was.

she reached in through the entrance and drew a small line on her younger self's ankle, curious whether that would have any real life consequences. the child, shocked, wiggled her feet and jerked still at the idea of someone being there. and in that, she realizes the feeling she felt at this moment, the cold strike of a finger that woke her from her supposed death. and the child scrambled out of the foxhole, stuffed toy in hand, and ran for home.

• curious, thea wriggled into the foxhole, barely able to get in, she's later barely able to get out.
• saïs finds her and reminds her that while this is the past, this is also a dream so she could distort the foxhole however she wants.
• so does this mean that she could have distorted whatever she wanted to, and that means that the past didn't actually happen like that
• but remember you felt nostalgic for it, that kinda means something at least similar happened, and what were you thinking of when you were here-- nothing?-- good. then you didn't distort anything.
• so what does this all mean?-- i'm not sure-- so what's the point of us being here? -- we were just here to get your memory jogging, to tap into your unconscious -- so i was a kid in a foxhole? -- yes -- and i was studying under armidael? -- huh -- and that's all i get? -- i suppose
• thea wakes up with saïs's hand across her stomach, she's still asleep. she decides to lay back and wait for her to wake up.