Chapter Text
The air is thick, suffocating, heavy.
It’s stuffy, cramped, stifling.
Helen feels the pressure in her head grow and ache every second she isn’t home. Every second she continues to stare at the illuminated screen. Like her brain is being constrained to the confines of her skull. Like a pressure cooker bound to burst.
It wouldn’t be so bad if the piles of books, paperwork, and abandoned manuscripts would just stop piling up. It would be better for all involved if it would just cease to exist altogether. If her editor would just stop breathing down her neck and the incessant anxiety that chipped away at her psyche had some mercy, it wouldn’t be so bad.
And if one more meeting was added to her calendar, she swears she was going to end up on national news. It was just a bad day. A no good, awful, terrible, horrible day.
She probably should’ve picked a different career path, Helen thinks as she’s brewing yet another shitty black coffee at her favorite co-working space. Maybe something that didn’t force her to constantly be in a creative headspace. Maybe something a tad bit more normal, and slightly boring. Something that didn’t feel like she was measuring her worth based on numbers, sales, and reviews. It didn’t leave a ton of options open but maybe something simpler like a librarian.
Helen retreats back to her favorite corner to continue her work. Just two more things to do today and she would finally be somewhat caught up. Only she makes the mistake of glancing at the time and realizes the space was about to close in the next 20 minutes. Shit. In some sick twist of fate, she chose today of all days to save the hard stuff for the end. Now, she wouldn’t even have time to even scratch the surface of it. That’s what she gets for going off script, for breaking her routine.
With a heavy sigh the redhead moves her cursor through her tabs to see which ones she can safely close out of. She decides it's none of them besides her Twitter that has been collecting dust since she opened it way back in 2015 (she keeps it active so she can keep an eye out on what other authors are posting. Rarely did she ever make use of it the way people begged her to).
A post catches her eye before closing the tab. Then a headline beneath it.
Two time Oscar nominee and Enchanted Reverie star Madeline Ashton set to lead in an unnamed A24 thriller directed by Ari Aster. Read more from People Magazine.
She clicks the link.
This can’t be right. Madeline never mentioned anything about a new project coming up. Besides, they both agreed that neither of them would take on big projects at the same time, a lesson they learned perhaps later than they would have liked.
It was Madeline who had suggested it, oddly enough, one night on FaceTime when she was in Spain for a film that would eventually premiere at TIFF. At the same time Helen was jetting around for the US leg of her book tour.
“It hurts so badly, Hel,” she sighed through tears.
“I know, baby, it’s almost over,” Helen reassured, the lump in her throat growing with each word. “We’ll see each other soon. I promise.”
So no. This couldn't be right. This couldn't be Madeline. Just another tabloid article, some rumor. Yeah, a rumor. A rumor started by nothing but an attention seeking “news outlet” who probably got their source from God knows where.
Helen begins to close her laptop and gather her things when the buzz of her phone asks for her attention.
New story post from themadelineashton: Beyond thrilled to join this incredible project!
Helen has never driven home faster.
—
Madeline sits on the couch of their home, humming and debating whether or not she should have gotten a cake for tonight. This was a big achievement, her first movie in months since the premiere of that disastrous Dogstronaut movie.
To be fair, Madeline was told by her agent it was going to be an animated movie. While not her typical role, she figured she’d give it a try since it required less travel compared to the project before that. Besides, every great actor had to have at least one animated kids movie in their repertoire.
In reality, Madeline was really trying to break out of her typecast as the typical blonde bimbo. No one wanted her for anything else, no one cast her as anything else. Anytime she tried to give more depth to the role she played, the director chewed her out in front of everyone, treating her as if she was the character she was playing.
But a fallout between the director and animation company forced it to become a live action movie after she had signed her contract. She tried to remain positive. She showed up to work, a smile plastered onto her face even if the damn dog destroyed her dressing room and slobbered all over her face. Madeline remained as positive as ever, even if it killed her. She couldn’t let other people know how miserable she really was. That wasn't the Madeline Ashton people loved.
She hears the door slam shut, the sound of Helen’s shoes flying into the wall from kicking them off her feet. Madeline stands and turns to speak but only catches a glimpse of Helen’s back as she retreats into the bathroom.
Madeline waits patiently. Five minutes. Then ten. Fifteen. At twenty she strides over and raises her arm to knock when the door is snatched away from her knuckles and Helen barrels past her, refusing to make eye contact.
“Hel–”
She’s interrupted by the loud creak of the dish washer opening and the aggressive clanking of plates. She slams them on the counter, making Madeline jump and hold her chest.
“Have a bad day?” she asks, trying to keep the air between them light. But anyone could tell it was as charged as an impending storm. Helen exhales and shakes her head as if Madeline had asked the dumbest question on earth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offers. Helen pauses, knife in hand. Her head turns to meet Madeline’s eyes.
“Now you want to talk?” Helen asks incredulously.
“Well you have been giving me the silent treatment since you walked in Hel so yeah I would like to finally talk to you. You’ve been gone all day.”
“Sure Madeline, let’s talk.” Full name, Madeline notices. No Mad, no Maddie. Madeline. Helen stands facing her across the kitchen island, hands on her hips.
“How was work?” she draws out her question, careful to not rush her words or set off any reaction. “Did you get everything done that you needed to?”
“No,” Helen answers shortly and turns around again to place the plates in the cabinet, shutting the door with such force it rattles the glass cups on the lower shelf.
“Did I do something to–”
Helen lets out the shrillest, cleanest “HA” she’s ever heard in her life. “Did you do something, yes, Madeline, you did do something but it seems like I was the last person to find out about it.”
Madeline’s heart sinks to her stomach, it plummets to the floor.
“Who told you already?”
“You did.”
“What?”
“Oh fucking give me a break. I saw you post it on your Instagram.”
“I don’t have access to any of my social media right now Hel you know that I– Shit.”
“Something to confess?”
“Stefan must’ve posted it,” Madeline brings her hand to her forehead and shuts her eyes. “I gave him access to my social media so he would pretend to be me so I could maintain my online presence. He ruined the surprise. You were never supposed to find out that way.”
“Here we go again, always finding someone else to blame instead of taking it on yourself. Don’t forget you still hid this from me.”
“I was going to tell you tonight, you have to believe me.”
“It’s not about belief, it’s about trust and being honest with one another,” Helen’s voice grows louder, she steps closer to a shaking Madeline. “I can believe you went behind my back and booked this role without telling me. I can believe that you decided to break the one cardinal rule we both agreed on. I can believe that you did this for your own selfish reasons, lied to me for weeks without even thinking about what this would do to us.”
“You’re doing it again,” Madeline shoots, becoming bolder.
“Doing what, Madeline?” Helen bites.
“You’re getting angry instead of hearing me out and jumping to conclusions, thinking the worst of me.”
“Well can you blame me? I had to find out from fucking Pop Crave.”
“It’s an A24 movie, Helen, I couldn’t exactly pass that up.” Full name, Helen notices. Not Hel, not Helly. Helen. Madeline straightens her spine and lifts her chin. “Technically I never lied to you.”
“But you hid it from me for months until the week before you’re supposed to leave and film on location in Portugal for seven months?”
“Is it so bad I wanted to surprise you? You’re really blowing this out of proportion.” Dismiss, Helen observes to herself.
“No, you're choosing your career over me, over us. Again. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Well, because I wanted to tell you in person…” Madeline drags this out, hoping to build anticipation and lighten the mood. “I negotiated my contract and I’m able to bring you along with me!” Madeline tries to beam with excitement, throwing her hands up near her face but anxiety is already swirling in her stomach.
Helen's eyes are lit with anger, disbelief, hurt.
“Are you kidding me?” she seethes. “I can’t just up and leave everything, Madeline! I have a job to do, priorities, things I need to physically be here for.”
“You can never just be happy for me can you?” Madeline scoffs, her body temperature rising. “You can never let me just surprise you with something nice, you always have to turn it into some sort of fight. Can’t you see that I’m doing this for you. For us?” Deflect, Helen thinks again.
“Oh bullshit! You never think of us, let alone me. Your default is what is most convenient for you. And what exactly is this trip going to do for us? You’re going to be gone more than half the time, late into the night, early in the morning. I won’t even get to see you and I am not about to be stranded by myself in some other country.”
“I can’t not do this Helen. Especially after that last movie. This is the opportunity of a lifetime and could do wonders for my career. Don’t you want that for me?” Deter, Helen finishes checking off the list of the three things Madeline always does in a fight.
“Of course I want that for you but you can’t just make big decisions like this without consulting me. I’m about to–.”
“What? Finish your book? You’ve been saying that for the past year and a half and given some of the conversations I’ve overheard with you and your editor, I don’t think it’s getting done any time soon.”
Madeline stares indignantly. Helen doesn’t understand. No, actually, she does understand. She sees her. She really sees Madeline which forces Helen to understand her which is why it hurts so much more.
Helen can’t help but not understand. She’s seen her at her worst, at her best, and everything in between. It forces Helen’s true emotions to take the back seat, while her empathy becomes the driving force, overshadowing her ability to allow herself to feel. And that’s always been the problem if you asked Helen.
If you asked Madeline, she’d say the problem was that Helen was going to be reactionary anyway. It didn’t matter when or how she told Helen the truth. Either way, Madeline knew she would never take the news well, even if she planned everything out to a T.
“Maybe if you paid any bit of attention to me in the last few months instead of always obsessing over yourself and what comes next, you’d know that I’m on track to do my final round of edits for the book,” Helen grits out. “You know some of us like to have a plan in mind before we jump into saying yes to something. You’re so damn impulsive.”
“You knew who you were marrying, don’t blame me for this,” Madeline narrows her eyes.
“Yeah I don’t ever seem to forget it with the constant lack of communication going on around here. The hiding, the secrets. The lack of accountability. By the way, you hate working with male directors.”
“It’s Ari Aster. And a type of movie I haven’t ever had the opportunity to touch if my agent hadn’t pushed and sent over the script. It’s brilliant Helen I get to play as-”
“I saw the article, you don’t need to explain it to me.” A pause. Madeline waits for what comes next. “You have been so unfair and selfish to me our entire lives, Madeline I just wish for once you’d see it and do something about it so you’d stop destroying what we have.”
Helen turns to go upstairs. Madeline follows.
“This isn’t over Helen,” she demands.
“I’m not going with you to Portugal. That’s final.”
“Why can’t you just go for a little while? Or fly back when you need to and then fly to me when you can.”
“You know how I feel about flying, especially long distances like that.”
“So what, we aren’t going to compromise? Are we not going to even try and make this work?”
“We? Compromise?” Helen whips her head around a quarter of the way up the stairs. “You should hear yourself right now. You would literally rather drop dead than not get your way.’”
“Is that so wrong?”
“You are impossible.” Helen continues to retreat up.
“There you go again I show you how willing I am to try and fix things for us but you turn me down every time!” Madeline shouts after her, trailing closely behind.
“Because these aren’t things that fix the problem Madeline!” Helen is screaming now. “These are things that you want to do! Things that you think are right when there is no benefit whatsoever to me! Or even for the both of us!”
Helen holds her head with her hand, her skin is hot, her throat is sore, hands balled into fists. She takes a deep breath, shutting her eyes to regain her control and lower her blood pressure. “Listen, I’m fucking tired. I’ve had a long day and I need to get up early to finish the work I didn’t get done today. I can’t fight with you about this right now. Let’s just go to bed.”
Without saying a word, Madeline agrees, realizing her body is just as exhausted. She follows Helen into their bedroom.
They move in silence around one another. They complete their routines without anything as much as a grunt of acknowledgment towards one another.
Helen secretly wishes she didn’t react the way she did. But what was she supposed to do? Madeline gave her no choice. This was classic her behavior, behavior that triggered her more than she liked to admit. Behavior that she should be used to by now and know how to deal with but she failed the test each time.
Madeline wishes she can start the entire day over. She wishes that she could go back to when casting directors told her she was going to be in the movie so she could run upstairs and tell Helen immediately. She wishes she could explain herself better, her choices, her actions. But anticipating Helen's reaction made her clam up, it made her avoidant of the real talk, the real thing. She just wants a do-over.
Both women climb into bed, careful not to set either one off. Their bodies crave reprieve, crave sleep but their minds still race. They sit in uncomfortable silence, the tension growing like a balloon filling with helium.
“I don’t want to go to bed angry,” Madeline whispers.
“I’m not angry.”
“You are.”
“Mad, please stop. We can continue this tomorrow.” Mad. She’s back to calling her Mad. And for a moment, Madeline’s shoulders relax. Her body sinks deeper into the mattress. Her eyes shut but her mind still wanders.
“I love you, Hel,” barely a whisper.
“I love you too.”
Madeline shuts her brain off. Sleep welcomes her quickly. But Helen’s reels. Helen’s brain reels so much, she doesn't realize she’s making her brief escape from their home until the keys are in the ignition.
—
Moments before your body experiences its worst trauma, you’re supposed to see your life flash before your eyes. Pivotal moments, intense emotional moments you’ve had with family and friends, loved ones. They’re supposed to replay in your head at warp speed, moving so quickly it can be hard to even begin to process. But it is nothing but a surge of brain activity meant to cushion your fall before your mind completely shuts down, forcing your organs and bodily functions to cease all activity as well.
Helen Sharp sees nothing when a truck is barreling towards her as she turns the wheel to get back onto her street. She doesn’t see anything when her car is hit violently on the side and flips three times over, skidding into a ditch filled with water. Her body is thrown around like a ragdoll, the seat belt constraining her as much as it can, failing to protect her head as it gets whacked into the steering wheel and the side window, cracking the glass. She hangs upside down, blood draining from her limbs straight to her head.
Somewhere, inside the house just a few ways down, Madeline Ashton awakes with a jolt at the sound of sirens and bright flashing lights seeping harshly into their bedroom window.
—
Madeline feels like the world is collapsing. Like her world is collapsing in on itself. She recognized the car immediately. It was sitting upside down in the ditch outside their home. The ditch that she may or may not have accidentally driven into a few times while backing out of the driveway. The ditch that always flooded with water when it would rain. The ditch that now has Helen’s car sitting in it, with Helen inside, upside down as she fights to stay alive.
The first thing Madeline does is she pukes in the trash can near her bed. The panic rises immediately in her chest and courses throughout her body. She’s shaking so badly she can barely open her front door.
Strong arms stop her from getting anywhere closer to the horrific scene. She watches, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears as the firemen grab the jaws of life to crush the driver side door open and scramble to get Helen’s body out of there. She doesn’t realize she’s screaming until her throat begs her to stop, the soreness becoming more apparent.
Anxiety boils in her stomach. Her ears ring, her palms get clammy. Her vision blurs but she isn’t sure if it's from the stream of tears cascading from her eyes or the panic setting in. Then her throat closes in on itself and she can’t physically hold her own body weight. She almost collapses.
Someone is speaking to her, someone is looking in her eyes and trying to get information but she can’t hear them. She can’t understand them. Madeline tries to focus and picks up on every fifth word. But the world is dissolving around her and she can’t help but zero in on Helen’s seemingly lifeless body being lifted onto a gurney and shoved into the back of an ambulance.
She screams. It’s a blood curling scream. A scream that carries the weight of over 25 years of history, 25 years of love.
Before she knows it, Madeline is being escorted into a vehicle, driving at speeds she can’t even begin to fathom. Her mind races, her head pounds. She feels like she’s going to vomit again. Someone hands her a bag and she realizes she’s also in the back of an ambulance. The harsh white lights make her wince.
Everything moves too fast. She complains they’re going too slow. They need to save her Helen. Her Helen with whom she’s shared almost her entire life with. Her Helen who seems to put up with her and support her constantly. Her Helen who she doesn't believe she deserves sometimes.
Her Helen, who she just got in a fight with not mere hours ago and caused her enough emotional distress, she went out driving as she normally does at night to clear her head. Only to end up in a waterfilled ditch near their home.
Madeline hates herself. She hates that Helen was right about her. She usually was. She hates that their fight was brought on by her own selfish actions, her own warped thinking that maybe this time, things would go differently. That maybe the news wouldn’t hit as hard if she tried showing Helen that she really did try and think of everything and that she was doing something for them to enjoy together.
She’s escorted into the hospital on the gurney, brought into a makeshift room with curtains surrounding her for “privacy.” It’s then she realizes she has no shoes on. Her legs are bare, exposed. Her feet are covered in a chalky white powder from the driveway. Her arms are uncovered and her slip nightgown is stained with tears and residue from her throwing up.
A doctor walks in and hands her a sweatshirt, socks, and sweatpants. Madeline still can’t hear anything she’s saying. Her lips move but sound ceases to exist altogether. It’s only when she says the words “brain bleed” does sound finally attack her senses. It’s loud. There’s people screaming, crying, talking. The machines beep and moan, exhale and clank.
“How long until I can see her,” Madeline barely manages to croak out. Her nose is clogged, presumably from crying.
“Could be a few more hours,” the doctor replies. “They’re prepping her for surgery now but as I heard from the surgeon, these are the more serious cases of brain bleeds. She also had a few fractured ribs and minor fractured ulna—that’s the bone on the pinkie side of your forearm—and her shoulder came out of its socket but that’s an easy fix.”
Easy. Fix. If that was supposed to make her feel any better it certainly didn’t. That was one easy fix out of the other things the doctor listed to her that was wrong with Helen.
“The waiting game isn’t fun,” she confesses, looking into Madeline's terrified eyes. “But trust me we have our best team working on it. She’ll be as good as new.”
That, Madeline hopes, is the one thing the doctor is right about.
—
They put her in a medically induced coma. The accident put immense strain on her body and brain, it was the only thing they said they could do to reduce the chances of more problems occurring, especially in the brain.
The doctors tell Madeline even though she’s unconscious, there is a real possibility she can hear what’s going on around her. They encourage her to talk to her, to sing, read stories, and play music softly.
So Madeline visits every day. For hours at a time. Some nights she doesn’t go home to sleep. She doesn’t even get up to use the bathroom or to eat or drink water. The nurses have set up their own schedule to remind Madeline to take care of herself, taking her in like a secondary patient. Madeline forces Stefan to bring his harp to play songs for Helen as she sings softly to her. The first time was too painful but the second time, she managed to get a few words out. By the third time, she was singing entire ballads.
Helen looks unrecognizable. There’s an entire white bandage wrapped around her head, covering her dark auburn hair. There’s tubes in her nose, in her mouth, and about ten million other ones ranging from her hands to her chest. She’s told it’s to help her breathe, to help get her fluids and other things she needs to survive.
Her face is swollen, puffy and scratched. Her arm is in a cast while scrapes, deep bruises, and cuts lining every inch of her exposed skin. God knows what her torso must look like.
Madeline’s heart seizes in her chest anytime she looks at her. The pain radiates throughout her body, the guilt and shame eats away at her every single day Helen isn’t awake. She tortures herself, thinking of their fight and what she could have done differently, what she should have done differently.
She’s in the middle of telling the story of how a meeting went with her agent when the lights start flashing and her monitor starts beeping rapidly. Several nurses come rushing into the room at lightning speed, one of them shoving her to the side and moving her out of the room to watch through a window.
“What’s wrong with her? What’s happening?” She asks, the anxiety settling in her bones.
“Just stay back, they will take care of it,” the nurse replies.
The next thing she sees is a crash cart being pulled into the room and the electric charge of the machinery. The panic never leaves her body, Madeline feels bile rise in her throat again as they shock Helen’s heart for a second time.
—
They’re telling her they can take Helen out of the coma today, but to not expect her to come to right away. Her body still went through significant trauma and needs rest, it doesn’t need more stress. She already flat lined twice.
Madeline waits patiently. She watches as all the machines and tubes are taken away one by one until it’s just a nasal cannula. Some of the bruising has started to fade, the splint is replacing the cast today from her arm. The head wrap has since been removed so all that remains is a bandage for the wound site where they drilled into her skull.
It’s when Madeline realizes Helen is breathing on her own that she finally lets her own body relax, she lets the tears flow uncontrollably out of her face. She could get a better look at her now. Her face wasn’t in so much anguish. The relaxed expression calms Madeline’s racing pulse, something she has grown to get used to after having spent days in this room, just waiting for Helen to wake up.
She knows she wants to apologize, she knows she owes her an apology. But the more she tries to practice, the less organic it will be. The more she tries to practice, the less authentic it sounds to her. The doctor said to not overwhelm her, so maybe she did have time to fine tune what she wanted to say. Sure, she’d be awake, but hearing about how you and your wife got into a heated argument before you wound up in the coma isn't exactly the first thing you want to hear.
Madeline is busy reading over the script that got sent over to her from the studio when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She drops the papers from her lap. They fall and scatter all over the floor (because Madeline hated when they came bound already in those brass fasteners). She rushes to her side, careful to not make any sudden movements around her.
Helen’s eyes peel open reluctantly, they blink and scrunch, adjusting to the light. Madeline rushes to dim them slightly and that seems to help. Helen tries to sit up but winces in pain.
“Take your time, Hel, it’s going to be ok. Just open your eyes, don’t move.”
She takes a bit longer to take in everything around her. The beeping is a little much, it smells like bleach and cleaning supplies, and the pain she feels in every inch of her body is overwhelming. It’s debilitating. She feels like someone poured wet cement in her body and the weight of it was pulling her down.
“Oh! Helen!” Madeline is scanning Helen’s eyes, looking for permission to hug her, to touch her. It’s been days since she felt her presence. Days since she’s looked into her beautiful eyes that she could swim in forever. Madeline fights the urge to pounce on her, to attack her with the tightest hug she’s ever given her, fearing if she let go, she’d lose her again.
“Can I…” Madeline starts and opens her arms. “Forgive me, it’s been a few but…can I hug you now, Helly?”
Helen stares at her and slowly, the corners of her mouth creep up and gives a small nod. Madeline breathes a sigh of relief she had been holding back and moves to embrace her gently. Only, she can feel Helen’s body stiffening underneath her touch the longer they stay like that.
That’s fine, Madeline thinks. She was coming on a bit strong and she did just wake up after several days. It's best to give her as much space as possible. You should let go now. Madeline let go of her, you’re being too much. Madeline tear yourself away from her now, don't ruin this for her and you.
She does. She pulls back reluctantly and meets her eyes, their noses almost touching. “I missed you so much, you have no idea. And I’m sorry, I really am. You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t stupid and pushed you away.”
Helen’s eyebrows furrow. Madeline notices and pulls back, giving her more space, silently chastising herself for being too much again. “Is something the matter Hel?”
“I don’t,” she starts. Helen gives her a once over. Then twice over. “I’m sorry I don’t…I don’t know how we know each other.”
Without warning, Madeline's world goes black and her body falls with a heavy thud.