Sylar never said a word that indicated they would be changing rooms. He simply stormed out, cursing underneath his breath, leaving her there to figure out what to do. She had nowhere to go and nobody to talk to. So she sat in the hotel room.
Her mind had turned off. Whenever people would say, 'Penny for your thoughts?' Emma would find it incredibly embarrassing to admit that she wasn't thinking of anything. Honestly, for a film major, her imagination was quite shitty. Trying to picture something original, without textual or visual guidance, could actually induce a headache; Emma understood film in rhythms, like musical beats.
So she sat, seeing the blank television and wooden furniture, but registered nothing. Emma could hear Adam's voice now --
Why can't you stand up for yourself?
Good question, she wanted to reply. It was a valid point. She knew Adam try to dig into her subconscious, but rooming with Sylar had nothing to do with that. Hell, she was the kind of girl who rather wander the aisles of Target for hours than ask a sales clerk for help. And if she pretend being violated on the dance floor was normal, she could get by the next few nights. At least her mindless day dreams relieved her of the horror she would have to face tonight.
For now.
About an hour of staring at the ceiling, Emma got a text from Nick and Greg. Both messages essentially told her that the crew was setting up about a mile from the hotel. It took her thirty minutes to find them, and by the time she hurried to offer her help, they were almost done.
Emma tried to assist as much as possible, but when she tried to move along a twenty pound case, the men laughed at her. Sure, she was tiny, but she could hold her own! She rolled up her sleeves and bent down. The case was swept out from underneath her before she even blinked.
The longer she stood, the more useless she felt.
"Emma, you're just going to end up getting hurt. Why don't you just make sure no one steals our shit?"
They barely let her get a foot towards the scene. Another worker pushed her towards the van. Why did she have to be here if they thought she couldn't handle a thing? Reduced to a guard dog -- which she was sure they equated her to a yapping chihuahua -- Emma popped herself up and into the back of the van. Her legs dangled as if she were on a swing.
She wished Nick had been more thorough before asking her to come.
"Catch!"
Someone threw two hard items in her direction. She caught it, noticing that she had gotten two lollipops and laughed before pocketing them.
"Lighten up Emma, it's a good thing you don't have to ruin your back carrying this stuff."
Occasionally she was a stand in so that they could adjust the lights. Sitting as a prop was such a waste of her time and sanity. There wasn't enough silence for her mind to rest, but nothing intelligent enough was being said for her to become engaged. Back in college, lying in the grass with nothing but the scent of nature, used to soothe her mind. Nobody ever existed in a field of green... until now.
She tried to retreat to that place in her mind, the only place uninhabited by voices, but it wasn't there anymore. She focused on the pieces of sky and clouds that floated in between the trees. The lush green colors that once gave her peace only reminded her of one person. The images got more graphic when the crew started to throw specific instructions at her. Lie on the ground. Legs up. Legs spread.
Despite the sibling bond between them, Emma felt violated as the crew spat out the list of positions as if they were calling out Twister spins. Here she was, one of the only girls working a typically male job. It seemed to have just made her into a plaything. She moved onto her back again, trembling as they got another stand-in to pose above her.
It did wicked things to the mind bank that fueled her uncreative imagination.
Her breath stopped as they struggled to keep a good distance between each other without messing up the lighting.
"Sorry," he grinned, looking down at her. His arms were tense, crowding her in a way that made her wish the ground could just swallow her up. "We'll be done soon, Emma." She swallowed and closed her eyes. Never, in her life, had a man been on top of her like that. The women in videos -- not just the ones she worked on -- always seemed to enjoy it. The feeling of being trapped and being safe overlapped so thinly.
"Okay, done."
Emma squirmed with relief as the man lifted himself. She accepted his offer to help her up, and was gasped as his one arm lifted her with ease. "You're practically weightless," he laughed before turning back to the crew. Not sure whether to take the compliment, she just smiled and trekked back to the van.
Her legs dangled over the edge. Being surrounded by a male crew who wouldn't even let her move a finger unless it was to pose made her feel even lighter and smaller everyday. Maybe they had a point, but she wouldn't know unless they let her try. She wanted to be useful. Damn it, she was sure she could do everything just as well as they could.
One of the crew members started to scale a tree to screw in a lighting grip. He swung one leg around the branch and steadied himself before scooting up to throw a rope down to the rest. Hell, she could do that. She was sure she could. They were a bit far away, so she braved herself to yell and offer help when the men started laughing about something. They moved in sync, never instructing each other, and somewhere in between Emma lost the courage to speak.
Instead she stared at the depths of the forest, as the sun glinted against the deep forest colors. The dark trees loomed ahead. Again. She was sure this wasn't her imagination, but a faded memory.
The one person, someone she tried so hard not to think about, always came to mind. The longer she watched the wind rustle the leaves, the more she thought of him. He was like a forest, filled with moments of serenity that escaped the real world, but also wild at heart, a welcoming uninhibited freedom. Emma gulped as those thoughts lead inevitably to what all thoughts of Sylar led to.
Sex. Outdoors. Something about that heated her to the core. The fantasy was dangerously primitive. The thought of bare skin against cool air had her staring into the distance, day dreaming about two bodies entangled passionately together. Hot air from their breaths mingling with the relieving breeze... God, she didn't know why the thought of having sex in the forest turned her on. But it did. Or was it the idea of sex with -
She yelped when a large hand came down to ruffle her hair. Greg laughed, a boisterous joyful noise that reminded her of a characters in a children's play. He hopped into the back of the van and slid beside her.
"Why so serious, dearie?" he said, giving his worst Joker impression ever. Emma giggled her nervousness away, hoping her eyes didn't give anything away. Did arousal have a distinctive expression like happiness?
"Nothing. Why?"
Greg raised his brow. "Missing your boyfriend already?"
"What?"
