twelve.

NATHAN ACCIDENTALLY FELL asleep. A miracle, really, but he actually did. And he only came down to the realization when he woke up and found himself awkwardly curled up on the floor, his jacket supporting his head (even though he was pretty sure he hadn't put it there himself).

"You talk a lot in your sleep," Adelaide said.

When Nathan glanced in her voice's direction through squinty eyes, he found her smiling softly. Surely a change from her dreadful mood right after their conversation.

"Shit." Nathan straightened a little, absently rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. A strand of hair fell over his forehead but he didn't bother brushing it aside. "Did I say something embarrassing?"

"I feel like you'd say the embarrassing thing when you're awake."

Nathan let out a short snort-of-a-chuckle. "Maybe," he mumbled. He stayed in his position, half-slouched and half-sprawled down, and contemplated if he had enough energy to sit up completely.

Adelaide's smile quickly dropped. Nathan saw the words in her eyes but she never said anything. It'd be stupid if she did anyway. All the stress had clearly started taking a toll on him.

But it wasn't like he was the only one suffering. Nathan forcefully sat up straight, trying not to make Adelaide worry more. Except that the movement, the slightest curve of his torso, had him grunting. Stupid bruise along his ribs acted like a constant pain vibrator. He held the spot.

"Just go back to sleep," Adelaide said with a hopelessly desperate tone to her voice. Nathan looked up and her expression matched what he'd imagined. Constantly concerned. "I'll wake you up when he slips in Act Four or something."

Chest deflating with a long sigh, Nathan just shook his head. Sure sleeping itself restored energy a little, but folding like a cat (minus the divine fluidity) on the floor for a while was destructive. At least four bones in him echoed with dull pain.

Adelaide must've noticed that. "I swear if he wouldn't flip out, I'd let you sleep on the bed. But I don't want him to beat you up . . . again."

Nathan almost laughed whilst rubbing a hand over his face. "Even if he didn't care, I wouldn't sleep on the bed. What kind of asshole would I be if I let you sleep on the floor?"

"By this logic, you'd be the kind of 'asshole' I'm being right now." Adelaide tilted her head skeptically. "Besides, that sounds like something Dolion would say."

Nathan would've laughed but the second part hit him in his insecurity again. So he just frowned at her, scowling, but then quickly calmed himself down. Joke. Just a joke. She didn't mean he was like Dolion, right?

"I was joking." Opposite him, Adelaide sighed and stared at the wall. Nathan wondered how she could stay so still. Didn't she feel the need to fiddle with anything?

Tracing his jawline apprehensively, Nathan watched her and suddenly remembered her expression when the piano had started. "Adelaide?" he finally said. Adelaide turned to him, brown eyes wide and startled. "When the piano started, you made a weird face. What was that about?"

Adelaide must've been trying to conjure an answer (or a lie thereof) because for a second, she just stared unblinkingly. "You said kangaroos have three vaginas? How come?"

"Changing the subject," Nathan mused purposely aloud, brow cocked, "suspicious."

"Gosh, shut up." Adelaide shook her head whilst laughing quietly, eyes downcast. "It's just that my mom used to like the piano. It reminded me of her. I just don't like talking about personal stuff because it feels . . . silly? We—you—have other things to worry about."

Nathan eyed Adelaide warily. Used to. So probably dead. He'd rather calmly steer past this touchy subject than cause the type of awkwardness that'd stick way too hard. "Missing your family isn't silly. It's your first time talking about it anyway. I've been nagging like a brat ever since I got here."

"But . . . you haven't been nagging." Adelaide's voice was unsure. "Now can you please just sleep again?"

"Why do you want me to sleep so bad?"

"Because . . . I'm the older one here. I know what's good for you."

Nathan made a face. "Don't pull the big sister card on me." It makes me sad, he wanted to add, but decided against it.

"But I already did."

One look over the bed's footboard and Nathan answered his own question. The tray had been touched, but not the food. So she'd been just about to eat when he'd woken up. "Really?" he said. "You want me to sleep so you can eat?"

"Well, yeah . . . I wanted to eat before you woke up but I was busy."

"It's fine. I appreciate you don't want to— wait, busy doing what?"

Adelaide stared at Nathan. Blinked. Once, twice. Then she spoke guiltily fast, "I was sorta checking on the wounds on your legs. Just like, making sure nothing's . . . acting up or getting infected. Or, you know. This stuff."

Nathan's expression dropped. Subconsciously, he touched his legs around the wounds' area. His gaze snapped back to Adelaide. "Um . . . okay?" A part of him wanted to be like: what the hell? But another told him: don't be an ungrateful brat. "I mean, thanks."

"I just . . . I'm scared so much of wounds getting infected," Adelaide explained. A thick tuft of auburn hair slipped off the curve of her ear, veiling half her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to creep you out. Good news is that your wounds are doing well." Smiling slightly, she raised her head. "We still need to change the gauze again, though. Just in case."

"Yeah, okay," Nathan repeated, absently twiddling with the button on his sleeve. Should he break this awkwardness with another weird fact? Maybe—

White papers squeezed in beneath the door. Nathan shifted, preparing to fetch them, but Adelaide dismissively touched his arm. "I'll get them." Hurrying towards the door, she crouched on the landing and pulled out the scripts, then handed Nathan his copy.

"He's not talking to us a lot anymore. Like, telling us things through the earpiece," Adelaide said, settling down again. "He thinks we already memorized everything we have to do."

"Or he's busy." Nathan fiddled with the corner of his papers, eyeing the door. Blurry. Not that he needed to see. "Busy with someone else. Remember when I told you I feel like someone's watching us?"

"Yeah."

Nathan straightened a little, then scooted closer, speaking in whispers, "Well the feeling's getting stronger. If it's another victim, it's good for us—it means the police might come faster. That's why I told you the Director's scared of time. More captives, more risk. But the problem is if it's not exactly a victim."

"Like, another captor?" Adelaide shuddered. Nathan nodded, mouthing could be. Before he could explain more, she shushed him and tapped his copy of the script. "We'll talk about it later. Let's memorize now."

•••

Even changing into the assigned clothes became an arduous thing. As Nathan raised his arm, pulling the sweater over his head, the stretch made the bruise on his side pound. He looked down at it and grimaced: an ugly, jagged circle of black and blue blooming midst youthful skin.

A little beside Nathan, the bathroom door was an inch ajar so he wouldn't feel imprisoned and start panicking. Totally not pathetic for an eighteen-year-old. He finished up changing then stepped outside, peering at Adelaide where she sat in front of the dresser.

"Nate?" Adelaide glanced over her shoulder at him. "Come, don't you wanna mess with the stuff here?"

Nathan just nodded. Sighing for the hundredth time, he trudged closer and plopped down. Leant back. Didn't touch anything. Then he finally reached up to the dresser, grabbed whatever his hand touched, and aimlessly fiddled with it.

He lost himself to the rhythmic clicks of the lip-balm cap in his hand. Now he had at least four wounds on him. A couple bruises. Nathanial Romero. So fucking lucky. You have everything. Yeah, everything. Like a psychotic jackass breathing down his neck.

"Put your hand out, Nate, can you?"

Nathan shook the petty musings out of his head and looked up at Adelaide. Without thinking, he quickly complied and raised his palm to her.

Adelaide squeezed the liquid-ish foundation on his fingers. "For the bruise on your jaw," she said, eyeing the ugly discoloration with painfully obvious pity. Nathan wondered if she ever thought, good thing it's happening to Nathan, not me. "Rub it there."

Rub it there. No shit? What the hell would he do otherwise? Rub it on the floor and expect the bruise to disappear—Nathan froze. God, the exhaustion really was getting to him. So much for not being a little brat.

Nathan quickly busied himself with covering the bruise, wincing in a forcefully minimal way as he mumbled, "Ow, ow, ow," all the way through.

"Why do you like abusing yourself?" Adelaide had stopped everything to watch Nathan do it. "Try to be gentle, gosh." Scooting aside, she pointed at the mirror. "Wanna look at the mirror while—"

"No." Nathan had been actively avoiding mirrors. He didn't want to see how the situation affected him. Porcelain skin (thanks to pricy medications that borderline destroyed his pancreas) probably breaking out now. It didn't matter as long as he was alive, but comparing this to all the luxury he'd been privy to hurt his heart. He didn't need that now.

Nathan looked at Adelaide. "Good?"

"Yeah." Adelaide wiped his finger off with a piece of tissue then tossed it into the bin. Holding a comb, she tried moving it through her knotted hair. It looked painful to Nathan. "Only two acts left, other than this one."

"I'm trying not to imagine what he's got prepared for me this time." Nathan scuffed his toe against the floor. "He's getting more and more violent. It's like he can't contain the anger anymore."

"Don't think about it then," Adelaide said, "it's what I do."

Nathan didn't say anything, but his stomach made it up—it growled like a walrus. His cheeks flamed a deep red and he hunched forward like someone hit him on the head, crossing an arm over his abdomen. Squeezing so it'd shut the hell up.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Whatever I said in my sleep can't be as embarrassing as this."

"You didn't say anything embarrassing in your sleep." Adelaide didn't even smile. Just frowned. "And don't worry, it's normal. If I was you, my stomach would be making all sorts of noises."

"Yeah." Nathan had lost focus already, mind drifting back to Act three. To what he'd told Adelaide. Ex-girlfriend—that girl had been obsessed with greek mythology and now, torturing his brain for recollection, he remembered something. Dolion. Wasn't that the name of a greek god or something like that? She might've said that once.

So could the entire play be in some way a type of retelling? Nathan looked at Adelaide with purpose in his eyes, opened his mouth and then—then, closed it again. If the god's story had to do with death, Adelaide would start panicking. Best not risk it right before the performance.

"Nate? You zoned out."

Nathan shook his head again and relaxed against the wall, or at least tried to. Craning his neck just a bit, he glanced at the door. Then forward again. He exhaled, closing his eyes along, only to open them again when he heard the Director say:

"Two minutes and I'll open the door, my actors. Get ready."

Adelaide waited a second then stood, but Nathan stayed in his place, savoring that single fleeting moment of painless silence. Only God knew what the hell would happen on stage or after it.

"Nate?" Adelaide glanced at him with worry in her eyes. She offered her hand. "Please don't lose hope."

Nathan just looked up at her for a second. It was as if she knew what'd been brewing in his head, the hopelessness starting to latch. Still, he took her hand and pulled himself to his feet. He smiled.

__________

a/n: hope you enjoyed the chapter! What do you think might happen during the next act?

this chapter's dedicated to Lostin_Lalin for the amazing fanart above, loved it so much ❤️ edit: she wants to mention that she used a base for it!

tysm for reading/voting/commenting!