Fae's Death In Paradise oneshots

Reliving

She didn't know why her heart was racing.

All Florence was doing was going to search for something Julius or his mother didn't want uncovering. It was completely safe. The victim had been killed by arsenic and that was no threat to her. Besides, why would anyone think it a good idea to try and harm her? There was no logic there.

But then why was her chest tight, her legs weak on the jeep pedals, cold sweat running down her back and forcing a shiver through her body.

She had stopped the jeep now at the crime scene, but she couldn't... she couldn't get out.

Was this what a panic attack felt like?

She didn't know what was happening, and she gasped as tears sprung into her eyes.

Overwhelmed with terror, she tore at her hair and let the tears run down her cheeks as she struggled for breath.

Five senses, she remembered. Florence forced herself to look up, count five things she could see.

Her hands, the steering wheel, the trees, that bush of pink flowers, the sky.

Four things she could hear.

The hum of the stationary engine, her hair next to her ear, her breathing, the birds singing.

Three things she could feel.

Her shoes on her feet, her clothes against her skin, her hair in her hands.

Two things she could smell.

Her own perfume, her shampoo when she brought her hair to her nose.

And one deep breath.

She exhaled shakily. She was tired now.

Cautiously, she reached for the door handle and let it swing open. She found herself double, triple, quadruple checking that she had her phone in her pocket, before getting out and beginning to head to where she wanted to look.

Still she was afraid when there was nothing to be afraid of. What was it that was scaring her so badly?

She found her hand resting the pocket containing her phone, and she realised that the thought of letting someone on the team know where she was calmed her nerves a little.

So she pulled it out and dialled Neville. As she walked, she told him where she was, what she was doing, and when they ended the call she felt a little better.

Still, though, as she wandered along where the digging would have reached, searching for something — she didn't know what, yet — the trees' shadows loomed over her like people, every leaf rustle the sound of someone ready to attack.

They were going to get her.

She ran her hand through her hair with a wobbly breath before shaking her head and continuing.

They were going to get her. They were going to take away Patrice.

That thought hit her hard in the chest and caused a surge of realisation. That was why she was afraid, remembering the previous time she had gone off alone, hadn't made sure someone knew where she was, hadn't waited..

Florence didn't even realised that she had sunk to the ground. She hugged herself and found her nails scratching, scratching, scratching her arms to get the thoughts out.

The pain it brought was comforting in a way, much easier to solve than emotional pain. You could put a cream on, bandage it up. That was why it was calming to feel, she figured.

Florence wasn't panicking now. No, just overwhelmed with pure and utter grief. She was rocking slightly, back and forth, back and forth.

She had to carry on. No one could come get her without it being a major inconvenience as she had the jeep. All they had was the bike, and JP was busy, she knew.

She forced herself up to her feet as she wiped away the tears and sniffed. She had to keep going.