It breaks me to torment again [Day 2, Helena/Lola]

[Nate Driscoll]

Pins and needles snaked up Nate's leg, mingling with the prickly heat the balmy jungle air bathed him in. Only when the strangely icy pinpricks were unbearable did he shift - over the last god-knows-how-many hours it had become part game, seeing how far he could push it, part deadly serious training fighting against the seeping numbness 'til he could be sure it wouldn't paralyse him. Either way kept him awake until he could forget he needed sleep. To give into that was more than weakness, more than irresponsible. Closing his eyes meant leaving her... something he'd sworn not to do.

She, his delightful little demon, lay asleep nearby - the very picture of innocence. Helena Tate-Klansa, 3 years old, survivor of flight 815. The disasterous journey had robbed her of everything but life... and rewarded him with a steaming great pile of guilt. Failed her already without even trying, broken his promise.. and in doing so gained everything he'd ever wanted. A shattering of all those shadowy bonds with people who thought it their perfect right to nvade his world. A new world without any of the stupid universal truths of the old. And, most bittersweet, a family without any of that nasty messy brutish 'love' business (understand, Nate was a romantic, he just didn't believe in falling in love)....

Guilt, guilt, guilt. For surviving when so many better people, with so much more to live for, had died. For failing to find Milla. For the insane envy leeching through his every pore when he looked down at her sleeping daughter, the ragged waif-like orphan Fate had entrusted to him, so safe in her own ignorance, so free because all her problems could be offloaded onto him.

[Lola]

Lola had been exploring. At first, a terrifired sort of shock had set in: the plane had actually *crashed*. She hadn't ever really believed that could happen. It was something that happend in movie, for entertainment - like aliens. But this plane, her plane, had crashed. Her first few hours were consumed with trying to get her head around that little tidbit.

After her brain had once again started to function past sheer disbelief, she'd reflected that she shouldn't be too surprised - it fitted perfectly with her luck. Not much had gone right lately, though a lot had gone wrong. She'd gone on to stew in self pity for a while, creating a mental list of all the injustices doen to her - imagined or real, who cared. All of this on the soft sand of a cove, the tide lapping lazily at the shore.

It was only then that she realised she was on a *tropical island*, and things started to look up. Never, ever having been practical, she was hit only by the beauty of the place, and especially the novelty. She had also mused, in a detached way, that this was kinda like the seven stages of grief, only really, really quick. Still not quite herself - pretty island or not, it was still a plane crash - she sat down on the shore and, delighted to find her notebook stowed in her pocket as she remembered, wrote until she couldn't she couldn't see anymore. Thankfully, the moon was big, so wasn't too creeped out and slept on the sand. She wasn't sure what she'd do if it went pitch black.

That had been her first day. Now, on the second, she was looking for people. She figured she couldn't be all alone. She didn't have the luck to survive what others couldn't, ergo others were alive. She couldn't see anyone on the sand, as far as she could see, and the sun was starting to get really hot - far too hot for someone who, until recently, had never left Brighton. A *lot* had changed, she reflected.

By process of elimination, she headed into the forestry that bordered the cove.The heat was less oppressive here, and the lush colours appealed to her. She kept walking for a while, with no idea how long, and just kept going. Finally, it occurred to her to stop; she leant against a tree to think. There had to be people, she was sure. But perhaps less sure than before. She really didn't want to be alone here. She was in danger of slipping back into melancholy, when she heard voices, and her heart started beating rapidly, and she could hear it in her ears. Pushing through the shrubbery towards the noise, she came across an uncomfortable looking, muscular man with a small girl, who seemed determined to stay asleep, her eyes shut tightly with that conviction only small children seemed to be able to muster.

She was never good with new people. She got very, very shy. But she wsn't gonna stay all alone here. So, she built up her courage for a moment, fidgeting - the guy must be deep on thought, she wasn't being quiet - and announced her presence.

"Hi?"

[Kamilliah]

For some reason, Helena really hadn't had much trouble falling asleep last night.

Perhaps it was the fact that Nate was there...someone she trusted...you might expect her to have difficulty falling asleep, for she didn't have her mother with her, but that most certainly was not the case...she'd been so exhausted, after yesterday's events...she'd just fallen right asleep, cradling her blanket in her arms, her thumb stuck in her mouth like it always was.

She'd dreamt of something resembling a...well, a half-nightmare...one of her mother, running through the jungle, searching for her...and she'd tried to call out, but she couldn't, for she wasn't able to speak..but it was only half a nightmare, for Milla had been in it...and anything that had to do with Milla made Helena happy...she loved her mother so much...why hadn't they found her yet?

The dream had to end sometime or another, however...and even though the hours that she'd slept had only felt like moments, Helena's eyelids fluttered open, having heard a feminine voice, even while she'd been asleep. Looking around, the child was disappointed to find that this woman wasn't her mother like she'd so desperately hoped her to be. Lifting herself up to a sitting position, Helena looked around quickly, nearly panicking when she hadn't seen Nate right away...but once she'd spotted him, she crawled right over to him and sat down beside him, staring up at this newcomer curiously with her thumb in her mouth, big blue eyes sparkling in interest..

[Nate Driscoll]

Nate looked up from Helena at the sound. Despite half-expecting to see Angel or Eponine, he still felt himself tense.. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, especially, he just didn't like surrendering as much of himself as that required..

Besides, it might not be them... A suspicion confirmed when he found himself met by the sight of another girl he hadn't seen before.. No. That wasn't quite true. He'd noticed her on the plane, sitting a few rows ahead, nose in a book throughout most of the flight. Evidently a sensible lass. The British accent was a good sign too - god bless the goddam yanks, but they drove him beserk.

"Hey.." he replied, setting his features into something slightly less wary, then breaking into the shadow of a smile.. "You looking for Arrivals?"

[Lola]

Lola smiled, more at the familiar accent than the half-joke. Scotland may be a way from Brighton, but it was sure as hell closer than Australia. She was also immensely relieved to not only have found people, but people who seemed friendly.

She recognised them from the plane, because checking transport for kids, and finding the surest way to stay away fom them, was an old habit. Not that she didn't like kids, cause theywere cute as hell - but she liked to be able to escape whent the tantrums started. This one seemed cute though - almost fairy-tale like, with all that blond hair.

"Um... I washed up on the shore. I guess. Um, I was on the plane - duh. I was looking for people - and I guess I found you..." She broke herself off, and took a breath. Where the hell was all this stuttering from? Hell, she'd gotten into Oxford University! It hadn't lasted long, but that wasn't the point. She should be able to hold something like a conversation.

"I'm Lola," she started again. "I washed up on the beach back there. It was just me, so I started looking for people." She took in the way the little girl clung to the man. "Is this your daughter? She's really cute." She offered a smile to said little girl as she spoke. She wasn't sure how to act around kids really, but she hoped she was being nice - and just how patronising were you supposed to be with kids anyway...

"I guess I was just hoping for some company," she admitted, looking back to the man. "So, hi, I'm Lola" She offered out her hand in an old, reassuring gesture.

[Nate Driscoll]

Nate took her hand, inwardly both rejoicing at the comfortable familiarity of the gesture and laughing at the absurdity of such formality given the situuation. Stil, they had to cling to some pale shade of civillisation as rescue was looking increasingly unlikely and he had no desire to start worshipping a maggot-ridden pig head just yet.

"Hi Lola" He smiled. Whatever it was about this girl, be it her Britishness, her youth, how natural she seemed in her stuttering insecurity compared to everyone else with their fake 'stiff upper lips'.. or merely that Helena seemed to 'not-hate' her, Nate found himself feeling a little closer to comfortable.

"I'm Nate. This.." - he released Lola's hand and shifted Helena slightly - "is Helena." It was odd how the words She's not my daughter didn't burst from him the way cheesy, ponderous drama (a crime he had thankfully not been quite poverty stricken enough to contemplate sacrificing integrity to commit) made out. They didn't exactly stick, either - "My God-daughter, of sorts... I'm just keeping an eye on her 'til we find out what happened to her mother" (the pessimist in him was finding it increasingly hard to verbally commit to actually finding her, not wanting another broken promise under his belt) - and wasn't sure what to make of that. Should the bond have been stronger, given that he was all she had now, or was it already too strong? When it comes to childcare, Driscoll he thought to himself, You might as well be attempting brain surgery with a spanner

[Lola]

"Is her mother on the island? Are there more people?"

Stupid question. There had to be other people. How big was the island, she wondered. It occurred to her that there might, and indeed probably would, be animals lurking in the woods. This was the wilderness after all, home to all sorts of scary, growly things... hopefully she would only meet rabbits. She had a sudden memory of a film, of a small white bunny leaping at a knight's throat - hopefully not that sort of bunny. She knew that she wouldn't sleep so well tonight as during her carefree night on the beach.

"I guess the rest of the plane must be around somewhere." Couldn't be far, really. It seemed odd that she hadn't seen it already. A flare of happiness sparked in her chest in the hope of finding her bag, and by extention, clean clothes. She was ok for now, but soon she wouldn't smell so good.

The pleasantries spoken, she wasn't sure what else to say. Settling on, "Are you looking for them, then. " She hoped that he was, and could accompany her on her search for the plane. She desperately wanted to see more of the island, but the woodland seemed imposing to her all alone. Besides, perhaps they could play those silly games, like people did on long coach journeys. I spy, and so on. Mildly disgusted at herself for actually wanting to play I spy, she gestured vaguely into the trees and said, "So where in Scotland are you from?"

[Nate Driscoll]

Okay, he'd definitely been with the apathetic Americans too long, grown lazy in the land of ‘Yeah, whatever’. It took him a few moments to catch up, since every time he came close to answering she was off again with another question, his response delayed further by the way one part of his brain felt compelled to remind him they both had a right to be somewhat… dazed, while another wasted time contemplating how ridiculous he must have looked. When ‘Mile a Minute’ Lola finally ground to a halt he ran back over the barrage, took a deep breath and began.

“Okay, starting at the end” Nate smiled “I never said I was from Scotland.” He paused, realising how stupid that sounded. What with that and his lame half-joke earlier she’d probably get a better conversation from one of the trees. He cleared his throat and continued. “Edinburgh born and bred. Current place of residence” (gesturing vaguely at their surroundings) “Mystery island… before that a trailer near Sydney, and the rest of the time I’m a naturalised but embittered Los-Angelino.” The phrase had never sat comfortably – something about it sounded so awkward, like some part of him knew he belonged back in Scotland.

“As to your other question, we’re not alone… although other survivors remain somewhat… elusive.” A nebulous image popped into his head – a man with very long arms and something sort of elephant-like. I wonder where my plane has gone… “And” – he glanced down at Helena, directing his next words at her – “We’re most definitely going to go and see if we can find anyone else.” And get food… find fresh water… build some sort of shelter…

So much needed to be done if they were going to survive. Living had never seemed so complicated… and yet in that there was a sort of freedom, distracting you from life so that seemed easy for once. Nate wondered what Lola would do now, whether anyone was looking out for her… Obviously she was an adult (albeit a young adult) and yet to be alone on this island would be… hell, probably. He shifted his gaze back to Lola. “You’re welcome to come… to stick with me, us, until you’re reunited with your…” He trailed off, obviously not knowing who she’d lost and not wanting to jump to any stupid, patronising conclusion, settling on a vague “Whoever.”

[Kamilliah]

As the two conversed, Helena made herself comfortable in Nate's lap, her head resting lazily on his chest and her blue eyes watching this 'Lola' quite curiously...her right hand was grasped tightly around one of Nate's fingers, barely able to clasp her hand around it...she'd always been slightly small for her age, but not noticeably...scratching the top of her head with her free hand, the child slowly turned her head up to look at Nate as he spoke, feeling the vibration of his voice in his chest. She could hardly comprehend what they were saying...something about Scotland? What was Scotland? A food? At the thought of food, the child's stomach grumbled, but she didn't bother to say anything...they were bound to get food some time or another, right? And there had to be a McDonald's around here, somewhere..

Sighing, Helena played with the blanket in her lap boredly, still feeling a little tired, but completely unwilling to go back to sleep at this point...that was something that she'd inherited from her mother...persistance, and determination. You could hardly make Hel do something she didn't want to...she seemed like such an angel child, but there were (very rare) times when her fists would clench together and she'd stomp her foot on the ground and scream as her face went red in anger. But that was only occasionally...although, Helena seemed to be two very different personalities intertwined with each other..

"When will we find her?" She asked suddenly, her bird-like voice piping up through the dense air in which they sat. As a child, she could only immediately assume that they were to find Milla soon...that was what she was looking forward to, now...just finding her mother, and hearing her say that everything would be alright.

[Lola]

When the little girl spoke, Lola fell silent. She couldn't know for sure - she didn't even know who the girl's mother was, didn't actually know the girl herself - but she thought that there was a real possibility that her mum was in trouble. That they didn't know where she was, in Lola's mind, a very bad sign.

The thought made her chest hurt, but she smiled at the girl. She'd been alone on the plane - had been alone in Australia, having successfully messed up everything in her life. But this girl had a family, and they were lost somewhere. An image of her mum, back in Brighton, sprung into her mind, and was accompanied with the usual regret. God, she missed home - and hoped that maybe one day, she could go back. "I'm sure she's around here somewhere," she intoned, feeling kinda stupid at the uselessness of her words. "We'll find her soon." She carried on smiling, even though she could feel her cheeks pulling down.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

[Kamilliah]

As the woman spoke, Helena's eyes watched her lips move, believing every word that this 'Lola' was saying. Well, if Nate said it, it most certainly had to be true, right? And now, this woman was saying it...'it', being the fact that they were going to find Kamilliah, and soon...yes, as long as there was reassurance, there was truth.

..right?

Nodding, Helena inhaled deeply and then huffed a little, looking over at Nate while she bit her lip. She didn't know what to think of this woman. She seemed nice, but Helena was hesitant - as always. She wasn't intending to be mean or anything, especially if this woman was merely trying to be nice but...what if she wasn't...after all, that man...he'd been nice too...and he'd tried to take her away..

When Lola asked her question, Helena's eyes snapped back over to the woman and she blinked a few times, as if she were hesitant on even giving out that information..but then she realized, hadn't Nate already told the woman this?

"Helena," she sputtered out after a moment, giving Lola a meaningful, childish smile.