a hybrid FRANCINE/CHRISSY SHRINE and DARKFIC SPACE
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!! WARNINGS BELOW
IF IT MAKES YOU MAD, THEN USE MORE DISCRETION NEXT TIME
WARNINGS FOR:
medical
gaslighting
stockholm
grooming
noncon/dubcon/somno
implied kidnapping
drugging
incest
i love you more than anything
you’re going to be perfect
everything above the velvet rope and the medicine cabinet is chrissys- her hospital bed, rehearsal space and hair/makeup. francine sleeps, takes meals and watches her rehearsals all from the same couch
the phone is unplugged. only francine knows that. chrissy dreams about throwing her ukelele into the fireplace. anyway this is where she wrote bubblegum kk
In the Cabin, Fran prepares meals, tea and medicine where Chrissy can’t see and doesn’t eat the same things she eats. The phone in the cabin has been unplugged for as long as Chrissy can remember.
She doesn’t remember being brought here. One day this place just was, an indefinite stay booked in the eerie quiet and stale air.
Thank god she knows that Franny loves her more than anything.
—————
She had no idea what time it really was. The cabin was blessed with no timepieces and no windows.
But it was pill time. The alleged morning round all together in a little cup, paired with a glass of too-warm water that almost tasted metallic. Every day Fran gave her little sister her various pills, and every so often Chrissy would ask which one did what, once again. It felt like the green one always had a different description, and the yellow and blue pills’ properties switched between each other every time she asked.
Chalk it up to absent mindedness then.
Chrissy really had been losing control of everything, so why not her recall too. Fran had given her no name for what had been happening to her, only a growing regiment of treatments and therapies. At this point she was unsure what was preventative and what was for recovery. She had loose ideas of which symptoms were likely being targeted but her mind was so foggy. It was easier and less panic-inducing to leave it to Franny than to drive herself mad scrambling for specifics in damaged and patchy archives... and hope for the best. Whatever that meant at this point.
On her worst days she became convinced she really was sick, dazed and disoriented to the point of almost fainting, nearly falling asleep and then starting back awake abruptly, feeling worse than before.
And in that twilight between states, at times she felt something she couldn’t quite place. Trembling paws. A firm grip on her shirtfront. She could never reach out to fully meet these points of contact. Warm. Pulsing. Close though they were.
Just dreams, she thought. Nobody had really touched her, she woke up clean, panties dry, clothes and hair perfectly in place. Like she’d barely even stirred in her sleep, though she had always been one to toss and turn. She supposed that this was yet more proof of her sickly, weakened state. Why else would she be here, after all, unless she really needed to be.
Better to accept she was sick with something and needed her big sister’s help than to think too hard about the details.
Franny was bossy and overprotective but she had her best interests at heart, and she wouldn’t lie to her.
She woke up feeling like her body was ten times its weight. Moving her arm she felt a strange resistance she hadn’t felt before.
‘You hooked me up… to fluids?’ Chrissy managed groggily. She tried to focus her eyes on the bag, the tubing, she could almost feel each drip reverberating on its way down to her, all so strange. There must be a good reason for this drastic of a treatment choice.
Franny was on the other side of the cabin room, putting the finishing touches on a meal of some sort for her. ‘Yes, I had to. You’ve been getting worse, little one.’
Chrissy frowned at the diminutive, especially irritating coupled with her sister’s vagueness. She muttered a terse, ‘Worse how?’ barely loud enough to hear, yet Francine’s head immediately snapped in her direction.
‘You’re dehydrated,’ she huffed quickly, ’ the fever last night didn’t help, but when I examined you it was clear it had been going on for a while. That’s likely why you’ve been feeling so faint and getting those nasty headaches.’
She shrunk with guilt for questioning her sister at that. But Chrissy couldn’t quite remember telling her sister about the headaches. Maybe her face gave it away. She couldn’t remember getting a fever either.
‘Wha’bout all th’tea??’
‘I don’t know sweetie. All I know is you needed this and I did it.’
Fran headed behind the room separator where the larder was. Chrissy could hear the click and slide of cabinet doors, the light scrape of metal and ceramic barely in contact with wood as it dragged across it.
She didn’t want to talk any more, slurring her words, feeling so weak and small. She held back but tears threatened her resolve at the corners of her eyes and a lump grew in her throat.
The tinkling of small spoons against ceramic like wind chimes. When had Chrissy last felt the wind?
‘Franny… ‘m scared’
Silence but for the maddeningly gentle sounds of meal prep in response. The older bunny padded over softly with her food. She set up her tray, hospital style, then unexpectedly sat next to her at the edge of the bed. She reached out and took hold of her paw, tender as anything, precious above all.
‘What can I do?’
Fran’s brow had furrowed in concern, screwed up tight, yet her eyes remained placid and her mouth flat. Her expressions never played out on her face the way they were meant to.
A sincere question at least, but it was all it took. Chrissy felt the tightness in her throat hit its zenith and broke out in sobs
‘I j-just wanna know why I’m so si-hi-hiiiiick’ fat tears rolled down her face and she felt too lead limbed to even wipe them.
‘Oh Chrissy honey….’
She saw her sister move to stroke her cheek through tear-blurred vision, felt her thumbing a tear away.
(here is where i have this for now, it's a WIP that i will be making my way through when the mood hits)
