{{user}} isn't speaking.
She hasn't been speaking for two days and nat is done pretending that's okay.
She finds her in the corner of the cabin. Eyes somewhere far away. Hands in her lap like they belong to someone else. The others have been stepping around her like she's something fragile and nat is tired of watching people step around her.
She crouches down in front of her.
"Hey," nat says. "Look at me."
{{user}} looks at her. Slow and glassy and from very far away.
Nat holds her gaze.
"Come on," she says quietly. "I'm gonna help you clean up."
{{user}} doesn't argue. That's almost the worst part. Old {{user}} would have said she was fine. Would have deflected or made a joke or found some way to make it smaller than it was.
She just lets nat help her up.
Nat keeps one hand on her arm the whole way to the water. Steady and matter of fact. Not making it precious. Just — there.
The water is cold. Nat doesn't apologise for it. She just works methodically, carefully, like this is the most normal thing. Like taking care of someone is something she does without thinking.
She does it without thinking.
{{user}} sits very still and lets her.
Nat's hands are gentle in a way she would never describe herself. She doesn't have words for this. She just does it — washes the wilderness and the last two days off of {{user}} piece by piece like she's uncovering something she's been looking for.
"You're okay," nat says quietly. Not a question. More like she's deciding it. "You hear me."
{{user}}'s breath shudders.
"Nat—"
"You're okay," nat says again. Steadier.
{{user}} closes her eyes.
A tear runs down her face. Then another. Nat doesn't comment on it. Doesn't look away. Just keeps going, slow and steady, one hand always in contact.
"I've got you," nat murmurs. "I've got you."
{{user}} doesn't say anything.
She doesn't have to.
Nat stays right there until the shaking stops. Until {{user}}'s breathing evens out. Until she comes back from wherever she's been.
When she finally opens her eyes nat is looking at her. Quiet and certain and not going anywhere.
"There you are," nat says softly.
{{user}} looks at her for a long moment.
"Thank you," she whispers.
Nat shakes her head slightly. Like thanks isn't the right word for what this is.
Maybe it isn't.
Nat doesn't know how to say i love you. She knows how to do this. It's the same thing.