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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE toeing the line
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
FIRST, THERE HAD BEEN nothing. Nonexistence, every molecule dissolving and becoming one with the universe again. The brain unraveled; the body disintegrated into particles smaller than could be seen with the naked eye. This nothingness lasted forever, infinitely, though somehow, it also lasted milliseconds. There was no concept of time, concept of being, just pure, unmarred nothing in which Nadine Vidal became one with the void. She was everywhere; she was nowhere.
Then, slowly, an awareness. A realization that she was something, someone, that she was a substance that could interact with the universe's articles. With that revelation came a heavy blackness, spreading across her vision, and a jar of pain pulsing through her. A slight rocking accompanied it, swaying what had previously been nothing, and now was something. And with this awareness, that she was a cognitive being that could be perceived, that she was interacting with pieces of the universe, Nadine Vidal opened her eyes, because now she had eyes to open.
She was in the backseat of a car, a car that was driving far above the speed limit. For a couple minutes, Nadine could do nothing but blink, trying to recall what had happened to her. Her mind, though working again, was sluggish, her thoughts coming at a snail's pace. For a few seconds, she could only focus on remembering who she was—Nadine Vidal, age twenty-nine, from Dijon, France—before everything came back to her in one fell swoop. Her entire life up until this moment hit her like a truck, and suddenly her thoughts were speeding up—age four age ten age thirteen age sixteen age eighteen age twenty-one age twenty-five age twenty-nine—until she reached this week. As soon as she finished recalling every moment she remembered up until now, she let out a gasp, and finally sat up straight.
"Nadine?"
It was Klaus's voice. He was sitting in the front seat, his face pale with worry. His eyes kept darting towards something beside Nadine. Her heart stuttered, but she forced herself to look where he was looking.
Allison Hargreeves was clutched in the arms of her burly brother, her eyes closed, her clothes stained with blood. Luther was pressing a blanket against her neck, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood, but it was already soaked through. Diego, beside him, looked on with worry, his eyebrows pressed together.
"Allison," she hissed. In her mind's eye, she could see Vanya's bow cut across Allison's throat, carving a deep laceration in the flesh. A shudder ran down her spine.
"Nadine," said Klaus again, and Nadine finally took her eyes off of Allison—her body?—to look at him. "Are you—are you okay? We—we came to the cabin, and we found the two of you..." he took in a shuddering breath.
Although she was feeling slightly better, it still took Nadine a couple seconds to find the words in English. "My—my head," she said. Her hand went automatically to it, and she felt a knot there, larger than the one she'd procured back when Hazel and Cha-Cha had broken in. It was surrounded with clotted blood; thankfully having stopped bleeding. "What—is Allison okay?"
