Work Text:
The first nosebleed happened around three weeks after the coffin. Daisy was doing the exercises her physiotherapist assigned for her, the really easy one where she had to slowly rotate her ankles with her heel on the ground. It was painfully boring; the simple exercises were the toughest to get through, especially when she was by herself, as they didn’t engage with much of her body, which gave her plenty of time and space for her mind to wander even with the Archers turned way up on her headphones.
On this particular occasion, she had left her headphones in the next room and was too tired to go get them. She could hear Jon picking up a few sheets of statements off the floor because he had dropped them, Basira typing away at the computer and Melanie playing some shitty mobile game out loud on her phone. She could feel the Hunt slowly creeping back up to her after six months of starvation.
The familiar sound of police sirens blared from outside the building, and she felt a gush of wetness beneath her nose. Bringing her hand up towards it, she realised it was blood.
“Shit,” she muttered. She scrambled to reach for a tissue from the desk and put it underneath her nostril. Tilt the head slightly downwards, pinch the bridge of the nose and breathe through the mouth, she recalled from the nosebleeds she got when she was a child. She got them quite frequently at a young age but they naturally stopped once she got older. This had been the first one in a long while.
The bleeding stopped after a few minutes. Daisy wiped the bit of blood on her lips off with another tissue, gathered the rest she had used and headed to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet. No one needed to see the bloody tissues in the office bin.
She didn’t get another nosebleed until a few days later, when she was standing in the corner of Jon’s office while he recorded a statement. As soon as she felt the blood, she put a hand up towards her nose and clambered for a tissue from Jon’s desk. The sudden movement jolted her atrophied muscles and she instinctively grabbed the desk when she stumbled, barely saving her legs from buckling. Jon, too engrossed in the statement, droned on without noticing any of the commotion. This made her feel simultaneously relieved and concerned.
She grabbed the tissue box and headed back to her corner, determined to continue her streak of standing. She had gotten through a few tissues when Jon announced, “Statement ends”, and she heard the familiar click of the tape recorder. His shoulders sagged as he looked up from his pile of statements.
“Are you alright?” Jon asked as she stared back at him.
“Nosebleed,” she muffled through the ball of tissues she was holding up. “I’m fine.”
Jon took in the amount of tissues she held in her fist. “How long has it been bleeding for?”
“I dunno, it started when you were recording. I think it’s slowing down though.” She readjusted the tissue as she felt the blood soak through.
He stared steadily at her for a few moments, just enough for her to feel a slight slither of unease before he responded. “That doesn’t look good. Do you want some ice?”
“I’m fine,” she repeated, slightly louder than before. “I know how to take care of nosebleeds. It’ll stop in a bit if you’re willing to spare me a few more tissues.” Jon frowned slightly at that but nodded, and moved to bring his bin over to Daisy. He collected the bloody mess she held in her hand, threw them in, and handed her another tissue.
“Thanks,” she said, as a fresh stream of blood slid from her nostril and she caught it.
“Of course. Do you want to sit down?”
Daisy’s arms were burning from holding them up, and her legs trembled slightly. “No I’m alright. I’ll be sitting down after this anyway when I’m meeting Basira in the break room.”
“Okay,” he responded. He sank into the sofa next to her, and went on self-assigned tissue duty for her before she finally felt the blood stop.
The nosebleeds progressively got worse after that. They eventually became a daily occurrence, and she had learned to carry tissues with her in case her nose decided to bleed out of nowhere. She went to the bathroom to take care of them if she was able to, collapsed over the toilet seat, and flushed the bloody tissues away at the end. The nosebleeds also progressively became heavier; what were once regular nosebleeds that lasted 10-20 minutes became ones that had her blood gushing out of both nostrils for half an hour a few times a day. Deep within her, she felt her hunger grow.
Daisy was cleaning herself up at the sink after another nosebleed when Basira walked in. There’s no blood on me , she reassured herself as she glanced up at the mirror to check.
“What took you so long?” Basira asked.
“The food I had for lunch didn’t agree with my stomach,” she shrugged. She didn’t eat much of the chicken katsu Basira had bought her.
“Hm.” Her expression was measured and unreadable, which to Daisy was not an expression she was used to being a recipient of.
“Guess I won’t be buying from that store again,” Basira said.
“No,” she replied.
They fell into a few moments of silence before Basira said, “I’ll see you later. I assume you’re heading to Jon’s?”
“Yeah, for a bit.”
“Great. I’m working on some research anyway so I’ll be busy.” I don’t need you keeping me busy , was what she heard.
Daisy nodded, and left to head to Jon’s office.
She could tell the Hunt was punishing her for not feeding it. Rather than the smell and taste of her predators’ blood, it was her own that tinged the air around her every time it was drained from her. Nosebleeds started leaving her lightheaded and dizzy from the severe amount of blood loss, and she felt her energy levels depleting quicker by the day.
She was standing in the corner of Jon’s office as usual as he worked when she felt the familiar warmth from her nose. She instinctively took out a few tissues and held them to her nostrils. Jon noticed and said nothing, as this situation had happened enough for it to be part of the norm at this point. He would provide tissues when needed, force her to sit down when she allowed for it, and bring her water and crackers. Most of the time though, she insisted to deal with them herself, and Jon empathised with her enough to leave her alone.
Daisy felt her blood drain from her rapidly, which she was sure was an effect of the Hunt. Her vision started becoming blurry and as she tried to blink it away, she felt her head grow heavy on her shoulders. Her head lolled forward before she quickly caught herself by gripping the sofa next to her.
“Daisy?” She vaguely heard Jon call to her as he stood up from his desk.
Still clinging onto the sofa, she muttered out an “I’m fine” before her legs folded over themselves and her knees hit the ground harshly.
She could not move her limbs as the fatigue weighed down on them. She could vaguely register Jon manoeuvring her into a more comfortable sitting position against the sofa, and caught his expression of concern through her half-lidded eyes. She groaned as he gently set her head against the sofa and she slowly turned her eyes to look at him kneeling beside her. The nosebleed seemed to have stopped, and left her breathless and dizzy from the blood loss.
“Looks like I’m the one on the floor this time,” she said.
“It’s getting worse,” Jon responded tightly.
“I know. I think the Hunt dislikes this starvation thing as much as the Eye does,” she said mirthlessly.
“So it seems.” Jon tightened his grip on her hand for a brief moment before getting up to bring her a Lucozade. Daisy closed her eyes and tried to will the rest of the dizziness away.
Jon came back and handed her an open-capped bottle with a straw in it, just like how she usually did for him. She sipped on it slowly as he took a seat next to her. She leaned against him and she felt him do the same. She dozed off after the drink to the sound of their breathing.
A few days later, Jon showed her a small labelled bottle from his desk as she entered his office.
“I’m not sure if these will help since they are, well, supernaturally induced nosebleeds, but I asked Melanie to get some iron tablets for you from Boots”, Jon said. “She was… more willing to get them once I told her they were for you.” She looked steadily at him.
“I didn’t tell her anything and she didn’t ask,” he quickly added, anxious.
Daisy calmly breathed through her nostrils, currently not filled with the scent of blood, of neither predator nor her own. She instead smelt the scent of old paper, day-old coffee, and a tiny hint of the deodorant that she knew Jon uses.
“Thank you, Jon,” she replied.