HEARING DAMAGE
TEEN NOLA - CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT !

IT WAS THE EARLY MORNING. The sun casted a soft, golden glow over the wilderness, its warmth overtaking tgat last lingering nightly chill in the air. Dew clung to the tall grass, and the forest was alive with the quiet rustling of leaves in the breeze.

            Nola stood in a small clearing, her arms crossed over her chest as she took in the secluded spot she had found. It was quiet, peaceful—far enough from camp that no one would stumble upon it, yet open enough for the sunlight to touch and warm the earth. A resting place, she hoped, that Shauna could find some solace in.

            Her head spun at the sound of footsteps, her gaze falling on the Shipman girl as she emerged from the trees, clutching the familiar small, fragile bundle wrapped tightly in fabric against her chest. Her movements were careful, almost reverent, but her face was unreadable—expression locked away behind an invisible wall.

            "Hey." Nola began quietly. A sad smile appeared on her lips as she stepped closer to Shauna. She gestured towards the clearing as she continued, "I found this spot here. It's remote and far away enough from camp that none of the others would be able to find him. Just like you wanted."

            Shauna's eyes flickered to the patch of earth, her grip tightening ever so slightly around the bundle. She exhaled a shaky breath.

            Nola couldn't believe what she was seeing. She didn't remember the baby looking so...tiny. "Fuck, he's so small." She breathed out, her voice shaking as she spoke.  Nola swallowed as she shifted on her feet. "I'll leave you alone. You can bury him in peace."

            She moved to walk away, prepared to leave Shauna with her baby in peace, the brunette figuring that Shauna would want to rebury him alone like she had done before. The girl in question looked hesitant, her eyes trailing along the clearing, following Nola's every footstep. Her words caught in her throat as her fingers curling over the fabric that wrapped around her baby.

           "You can stay." She finally murmured.

            Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to still the air between them. Finally, Shauna lifted her gaze to meet Nola's, her eyes raw and unguarded in a way that made Nola's breath hitch. "I want you to stay."

            There was no command in her voice—just a quiet plea. And Nola, without hesitation, nodded. No further words are exchanged between the pair as they knelt down, knees pressed to the grass and proceeded to bury the tiny little body once more. The sun cast long shadows that morning as Shauna prepared to say goodbye to her son all over again.

By the time Shauna and Nola made it back to camp, the sun had fully risen, beaming down and warming their sunburnt skin. The camp was already stirring, the group moving about as they prepared for the day ahead.

            But as soon as the two girls stepped into view, the murmurs and shuffling of activity quieted. Heads turned. Eyes locked onto them, concern etched into the faces of their teammates.

            Taissa was the first to speak, her voice sharp and laced with accusation. "Shauna. Mari didn't come home last night. Any insight here?"

            Shauna barely reacted. Her nose scrunched in disinterest as she shrugged, arms hanging loosely by her sides. "I don't know."

            The Turner girl didn't buy it. Mari hadn't returned to camp yet and Shauna had been away since early that morning. That couldn't be a coincidence. Her gaze didn't waver, scrutinizing both Shauna and Nola with suspicion. "Where even were you two just now?"

            Before the tension could thicken, Natalie let out an exaggerated groan. She rolled her eyes, already fed up with the back and forth. "Jesus, we don't have time for this. I'm gonna find Mari. Is anyone else in?"

            Some of the group gave silent nods of agreement. Natalie accepted them with one of her own before turning her focus back to doe-eyed Shipman girl, fixing her with an expectant look. "Shauna, you're coming with me."

            She didn't ask. She ordered.

            Shauna's demeanor shifted instantly, her body tensing with irritation. Her arms raised up, brushing against Nola's side as they moved before crossing tightly over her chest. Her chin lifting in defiance and her eyes burned with frustration as she spat, "I'm not looking for her." Her voice dripped with venom. "Fuck Mari."

            A heavy silence fell between them, the weight of Shauna's words lingering in the air.

            "I'm coming too, Nat." Misty stepped forward, her chipper voice cutting through the tension. She smiled, ever eager to be useful.

            Nola hesitated for only a brief moment before stepping forward as well. "I'll help as well."

            Shauna's head snapped toward her, disbelief flashing across her face. Almost betrayal. "What?" She inquired in totally shock.

            For a moment all of the usual anger that was painted on her face faded away and all that remained was a past version of Shauna. The version that couldn't believe her girlfriend had sided with Jackie over what movie they were gonna watch at their fortnightly sleepover.

            "What?" The Rilke girl echoed with a shrug. She let out a small sigh, already sensing Shauna's resistance. "She's one of us, Shauna. She's an ass, but she's probably scared shitless out there. It's scary being in those woods alone at night."

Shauna's jaw clenched, her teeth now grinding and her frustration palpable. But the resolve in Nola's eyes and determination in her words told the Shipman girl there was no changing her mind. With a resigned exhale, Shauna reached forward, grabbing Nola by the waist and pulling her in. The kiss was desperate, possessive—Shauna staking her claim, a silent warning to everyone watching.

Their first public display of affection had been used to remind them all that Nola was Shauna's and that she wasn't to be messed with if they didn't want to meet the business end of Shauna's fist.

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THE SUN FILTERED THROUGH the canopy above. The air was crisp, the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves accompanying their footsteps. Their shoes crunched over dried leaves and twigs, each step deliberate as they navigated through the uneven terrain.

Despite the somber task at hand—searching for Mari—Van couldn't resist smirking, her amusement bubbling over as she glanced at Taissa. "So... that was some kiss." She was practically giddy as she began speaking.

Taissa matched her look, eyebrows raising slightly in interest. The two shared a glance that practically screamed did you see that? The display of possession from Shauna had been nothing short of dramatic, and frankly, a little entertaining.

"Yeah." Taissa agreed, her tone bordering on teasing as she set her gaze on Nola, who walked a few paces ahead of them. "When did that happen again? I thought you guys had gone back to just friends after she, you know, cheated on you with Jackie's boyfriend and got pregnant?"

Nola exhaled sharply, a sigh that carried both exhaustion and acceptance. The weight of her past with Shauna was a burden she had chosen to carry, even when others judged her for it. The forest around them felt vast and endless, but the memories felt just as inescapable.

"We did." She admitted, her voice even. "It's a recent redevelopment."

She barely let the words settle before tilting her head back and bellowing, "Mari!" Her voice echoed, swallowed almost instantly by the endless stretch of trees.

No reply.

With no sign of the missing girl, the Rilke girl continued, her voice calmer now. "Anyway, I love her. What she did nearly broke me, but... I don't know, I'd prefer to forgive her and move on than hold it over her. She seemed to hate herself for it, and she promised it was only once. And I believe her."

            The only response was the steady rhythm of their footsteps, the occasional snap of twigs beneath their boots. The silence between them wasn't empty—Nola could feel what they weren't saying. She knew they thought she was too forgiving, that she was fooling herself.

            Was her relationship with Shauna healthy? Not in the slightest.

            But in a world where survival was everything, where every day brought new horrors, love—any love—felt like something she couldn't afford to let slip away. They didn't live in the real world anymore. The rules of what was acceptable, of what was right and wrong, had blurred into nothingness.

            It was like Taissa had said. Out here, everything is life or death.

            "Well, that's good," Taissa finally said, a genuine smile flickering onto her lips. "I'm happy for you guys."

            Van hummed in agreement, nodding along.

            Nola glanced back at them, a small smile of appreciation tugging at her lips. "Thanks."

            Before they could settle further into the conversation, the Turner girl refocused, her voice cutting through the quiet. "Mari!" The name rang out again, but the only response was the wind shifting through the branches.

            Van smirked suddenly, an amused gleam in her eye as she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Here, piggy, piggy!" she called mockingly, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. Then, grinning wider, she let out a loud, exaggerated hog-call. "Sooey!"

            Taissa faltered mid-step, shooting her girlfriend a disapproving look. "She could be dead." She scolded, her voice a little sharper now.

            The redhead merely chuckled, unbothered. "Well, then, she won't be offended." A snort of laughter escaped from Nola up ahead, and Van grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "And if she's dead—"

            "If she's dead, Natalie's fucked." Taissa cut her off, her frustration spilling over. "God, she boned that so hard." She exhaled, running a hand down her face. "Not to mention, she wouldn't let anyone go looking for Coach. What kind of message does that send?"

            Nola nodded aggressively, irritation bubbling to the surface. "Yeah, even after I told her I could still hear him hobbling about out there."

            Van just weakly shrugged. She sounded almost reserved as she uttered, "Yeah, well, she never wanted to believe he did it." Her words sounded liked a line of defence for Natalie's shortcomings

            "I get that, but..." Taissa trailed off, unable to find a real justification for Natalie's refusal. Her brows furrowed deeper before she finally asked, "Who else could it have been?"

            Van observed her girlfriend's growing frustration with a small, knowing smile. Taissa could be so intense sometimes—wearing her emotions on her sleeve without even realizing it.

            "You think you'd be better?" She asked suddenly, her voice laced with both challenge and curiosity.

            Taissa stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to face Van. Her expression hardened, her gaze locking onto her. "Do you not?"

Van hesitated. The air between them shifted, the lighthearted teasing from before dissipating. Her voice was quieter when she finally spoke. "Maybe. I don't know."

            Taissa let out a short, incredulous scoff. "Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

            The Palmer girl rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Please, come on. I have every confidence in you." She nodded toward Taissa, her voice steady and sincere. "But this place—it's messy. It doesn't want to be governed."

            A pause. A moment of stillness. The weight of that truth settled in the space between them.

           Nola, who had been listening silently, finally spoke up. "Well, I think I would have been a great fucking leader." The words left her with no hesitation, her voice bold and unrepentant. She was tired of biting her tongue, of pretending she was content with the way things were. "I still don't know why Natalie was chosen."

            Her words hung in the air, daring either of them to challenge her.

             "She's my friend, I love her, but my God, she has really made some awful decisions since being crowned leader."

            Before either girl could respond, the woods were suddenly pierced by a sharp, agonized groan. The three of them froze. The sound came again—a scream. Their pulses kicked up. It was unmistakable. Someone was in pain.

            "That's Travis." Taissa declared, her voice tight with urgency.

            The trio crashed through the underbrush, the sound of their pounding footsteps merging with the distant, frantic cries of Travis. The urgency in his voice made Nola's stomach twist. The further they ran, the louder his distress became, cutting through the forest like a jagged knife. The trees thinned as they reached a small clearing, and that's when they saw him.

            Travis was keeled over on all fours, his fingers digging into the dirt, his chest heaving with labored breaths. His body trembled, sweat dripping from his temple, his entire frame seized by something unseen. Looming over him, mere inches from his face, was Lottie. Her wide eyes were locked onto his, her head tilting slightly as if trying to peer into his very soul. The eerie way she mirrored his agony sent a shiver down Nola's spine.

            The moment felt suspended in time, thick with something invisible yet palpable, like static before a lightning strike.

            Nola's brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Travis looked wrecked, his face twisted in pain and terror, his entire being recoiling from whatever horrors were playing out in his mind. And yet, Lottie remained unnervingly close, unfazed.

            A fresh wave of concern surged through Nola as she flicked her gaze between them. "Lottie, what's wrong with him?" She inquired, her voice tight with worry.

            Her question went unanswered.

            Instead, Travis let out a strained whimper, his breath hitching in panic. His entire body rocked slightly, his fingers twitching against the ground. "Oh, they're coming." He whispered, his voice trembling. His eyes darted wildly, unfocused, seeing something none of them could. "No, no, they're coming. No."

            Lottie inched closer, her voice low and gentle. "Hey, talk to me." She coaxed, her hands hovering just near his shoulders. She carried herself as if she were a shepherd guiding a lost lamb back to safety.

            But Travis wasn't looking for salvation. He flinched hard, his back slamming against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his breath hitching as if the very air around him had turned poisonous. "No, no. I don't—" His voice broke off into a sharp inhale.

Lottie's expression remained calm, but her brows knitted together as she leaned in again. "Who's coming?"

The Martinez boy's chest rose and fell in sharp, erratic breaths. His pupils were blown wide, his body wracked with involuntary shudders. "I don't want to see them." He rasped. His voice held the kind of raw, unfiltered fear that crawled under the skin. Whoever they were, it was real to him. Too real.

The other three girls had stepped closer by now, their concern growing with every passing second. Nola's pulse thrummed in her ears. There was something deeply wrong with Travis. His terror was visceral, almost contagious, like the shadow of something monstrous lingered just beyond their perception.

Lottie reached out, her hands finally landing on his shoulders, her touch light yet grounding. "Talk to me, Travis, talk to me." She murmured, her voice taking on a soothing lilt. But her touch only made it worse.

"No, get away from me." Travis snapped, his voice sharp with panic. He recoiled violently, shoving her hands off him and curling in on himself. His entire frame trembled as he rocked back and forth, his breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps. His voice turned into a hushed mantra, repeating over and over:

"One, one, one, one, one, two, three, eyes on me."

Then, suddenly, his entire body lurched. A ragged gasp tore from his throat as he clutched at his chest, fingers clawing desperately at the fabric of his shirt. His face twisted in sheer, unfiltered horror.

"No! No, no, no, no!" His voice cracked as he pressed himself impossibly harder against the tree, his head shaking frantically. His hands fisted at his sternum, as if something was trying to force its way inside of him. "It's trying to get inside me." He cried, his breath choking on a sob.

Despite his distress, Lottie remained unfazed. If anything, she softened, her head tilting slightly as if she understood something the others didn't. "It's okay." She murmured, her voice dripping with that eerie, practiced patience. "I know it's scary."

Travis let out a broken hum of disagreement, his fingers trembling violently. "No, I can't—"

Lottie pressed on. "It doesn't want to hurt you."

His eyes snapped to her, pure desperation flickering in his wild gaze. "No!" His voice turned sharp, laced with something near feral. His hands shot forward, shoving Lottie back with enough force that she stumbled.

She barely had time to hit the ground before Travis was on her, his hand gripping at her throat. His whole body shook, his breaths coming in short, uneven pants, his grip tight but uncertain. His eyes glistened with something close to pleading as he hovered over her.

"What are you doing, Lottie?" His voice cracked, barely above a whimper.

It took only a second before the others rushed in.

"Travis, stop!" Taissa barked, lunging forward. She grabbed hold of Lottie, yanking her back as Van and Nola sprang into action. They each took one of Travis's arms, prying his grip off of Lottie's throat and dragging him away.

Travis went weakly with them, his body sagging in exhaustion, his breaths still uneven. Lottie, now a few feet away, slowly picked herself up, brushing the dirt from her arms, unfazed.

But Travis was shaking now, his body wracked with leftover tremors from whatever had just happened. Van tightened her grip on him, anchoring him in place, her arms steady against his weight. He looked lost, adrift in something only he could see.

Lottie, however, wasn't done. She took a step forward, gaze locked onto Travis, her expression unreadable. "Travis." She called out again, gentle, coaxing. "Travis."

Taissa stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Look at what you're doing to him." She hissed, her voice low and harsh. "Hasn't he been through enough?"

Lottie barely spared Taissa a glance, her focus unshaken. "It's fine." She murmured. Her voice held an eerie certainty. "He's just learning to hear it."

Nola's jaw clenched. Her patience snapped. "It's not fine, Lottie." Her glare darkened, her voice cutting like a blade. "You've gone too far. Leave him alone, I mean it." Her words were sharp.

Usually, Nola felt sorry for Lottie. She knew the girl was desperate to claw her way back to whatever connection she'd had with the Wilderness before. But this—this was too much. Travis was still grieving, still raw from losing his little brother, and Lottie was using him as some twisted conduit.

She spun away from Lottie and knelt beside Travis, her voice softening as she reached for him. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay." She murmured, her touch careful, grounding. She peeled him gently from Van's hold, sending the redhead a grateful nod before helping Travis to his feet.

"I'll take him back to camp." She announced, tightening her grip around his waist to steady him. "You guys keep looking for Mari."

She started to move, guiding Travis away, but Lottie stepped forward once more, eyes still locked onto him. Nola caught the movement in her peripheral and immediately stopped, turning to glare over her shoulder.

"I mean it, Lottie." She warned, her voice steel. "Walk away. Now."

Once Nola was certain that Lottie wouldn't follow, she tightened her grip on Travis's arm and guided him back toward camp. His steps were unsteady, his body still trembling from the lingering effects of the shrooms and whatever horrors had taken root in his mind. She kept her pace slow, steady, reassuring, her hand firm against his back. Every so often, he let out a shuddering breath, his head shaking as if trying to rid himself of whatever still haunted him.

By the time they reached camp, She was quick to lead Travis toward one of the huts, gently pressing down on his shoulders until he sank onto one of the old, worn-down plane seats they'd repurposed as chairs. His body sagged against it, like his muscles had given up holding him together.

Standing in the corner, clutching a rabbit in her hands, Akilah glanced up at them. Her dark eyes flickered over Travis's slumped form before meeting Nola's gaze. Nola sent her a small, grateful smile in acknowledgment before turning her attention back to the trembling boy.

With Lottie out of the picture—at least for now—Nola finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. She crouched beside Travis, close enough that he could feel her presence but not so close that it would overwhelm him.

"What did she mean?" She inquired, her voice quieter now, laced with cautious curiosity. "What are you learning to hear?"

Travis didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, unfocused and dark. His fingers curled against the armrest of the seat as if grounding himself.

"The Wilderness." He murmured, his voice barely more than a breath.

Nola's jaw tensed. "For fuck's sake, Lottie." She muttered under her breath. Her eyes rolled, her exasperation bubbling to the surface. The last thing any of them needed was Travis spiraling even further because of Lottie's cryptic, half-baked guidance. He was barely holding himself together as it was.

Shaking her head, she reached out, her hand finding his shoulder. Her grip was firm, steady—something tangible in the midst of all the chaos clawing at his mind. "Travis, you don't need to hear it." She declared, her voice edged with certainty. "I can hear it. Lottie used to hear it. That's more than enough."

For a moment, she thought he might argue. His lips parted slightly, his fingers twitching. But instead of protesting, he let out a shuddering breath. Then, so quietly she almost missed it, he whispered, "I hurt her."

Nola scoffed, shaking her head. "Barely. She survived Shauna, Travis."

It wasn't dismissive—it was the truth. Lottie had been through worse, and they both knew it. Whatever guilt was clawing at Travis's insides, whatever twisted remnants of his trip were making him feel like a monster, she wasn't about to let it consume him.

Travis swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. His hands flexed against his knees as if trying to work out some invisible tension.

Nola's gaze softened, but her tone remained firm. "The next time she comes to you, I want you to send her away. Don't let her convince you it's a good idea." She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "She means well, but... Lottie has issues of her own to deal with."

She knew Lottie felt lost. Ever since the Wilderness had seemingly abandoned her—had cast her aside after using her as its voice—she had been scrambling to find her purpose again. And that desperation was dangerous.

Travis let out a humorless breath, barely a chuckle. "Needing a shrink doesn't make you a shrink." He muttered.

Nola's brows pulled together in slight confusion. The phrasing caught her off guard. "Excuse me?"

Travis hesitated for a moment, then clarified, his voice quieter. "Shauna said that to Lottie."

She blinked, then huffed out a dry, amused laugh. "Oh, that's funny." It was so Shauna. Still, she returned to the point at hand, her focus sharpening. She met Travis's weary gaze, holding it steady. "Just send her away, Travis. Send her to me if you have to. I'll deal with her."

Travis shook his head almost instantly. "I'm not gonna do that." His voice was hoarse, exhausted, but resolute.

Nola didn't argue. Instead, she just smiled, small but genuine. "I don't mind."

A quiet understanding passed between them. For a long moment, there was silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was the most peaceful thing either of them had experienced in days.

Finally, Nola rose to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her palms. "I'm gonna go check on the Mari front." She told him, tilting her head toward the camp. "You stay here, okay? Take a breather."

Travis gave a slow, lethargic nod. His gaze drifted toward the wall of the hut, distant but calmer than before.

As she turned to leave, Nola sidestepped toward Akilah, who was still focused on the animals in their pens. The other girl had stayed quiet through the whole interaction, but Nola knew she'd been listening.

Lowering her voice, she murmured, "Hey, Akilah. Would you mind keeping an eye on Travis for me?" She jerked her chin in his direction. "He's having a bit of a bad day."

Akilah didn't hesitate. She nodded instantly, her expression unreadable but understanding. Nola exhaled, relieved. She shot her one last grateful look before stepping out of the hut, her mind already shifting toward the search for Mari.

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jamielee's thoughts
chapter forty eight, not proofread
Lads Nola doesn't hate Lottie. She understands why she's doing what she's doing but Travis is her friend, he's almost like the brother she never had. She's gonna protect him even if Lottie means well. Also cure moment between Nola and Shauna then Shauna acting jealous cause that's just who she is. Anyway I hope you enjoyed :)