Detective Euan Fitzpatrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovesguinness) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-04-03 10:03 am
lovesguinness) wrote in muserevival2014-04-03 10:03 am
Entry tags:
Word of the Day 065.
Despondent
adj. 1. feeling or showing profound hopelessness, dejection, discouragement, or gloom.
Euan hated goodbyes. To the point he would distinctly avoid them where he could. He didn’t know what it was that caused the aversion, but he had even missed his own parents’ funerals because he hadn’t wanted to stand there looking at the coffins and knowing he would never see them again. Instead, he went and got trashed. He spent the whole night in a pub after shooting up heroin. To this day, he still regretted not going. He regretted a lot of things, really.
Which was why expecting a new baby with his new wife had been a yardstick of new hope for him. It was going to be that point in his life where he could pause and realise that no matter how much he had fucked up in the past, he could turn it around into something priceless to him. Something that knew all the fighting was worth.
He still had all of that. He had his son, who was his world, and he was a newlywed now. But it was all now shrouded in pain, heartache and loss. He was really beginning to fear this might shatter the foundations of their relationship. Julie had stopped communicating with him beyond the bare minimum. She was depressed, despondent, flat and numb. Now, just a couple of weeks following the surgery in the wake of the miscarriage, she was already planning to go back to work when Euan had desperately tried to get her to take more time to heal.
Now they were having a memorial for their baby daughter they lost. Some of that medical staff said it could be a very healing thing for families who suffered the devastating loss… for others, it was too hard to face. Julie had, at first, said she wanted it. But that morning, she had pulled out on going and went back to bed instead. Euan was crushed, but he threw up the walls and the masks so that no one would see his true pain. Instead, he went along with his son, and his other New York based family.
It wasn’t in a church. He refused to honour anything related to religion. He was every bit the Atheist and though religion was a farce. He had been raised Catholic when he was a boy, but as he and his siblings got older, their parents had left it up to them to choose whether they wanted to practice or not. Euan chose to go get pissed at the local pub. In those days, the local country Irish pubs didn’t care about checking IDs. He didn’t know what had led him to become as severe an addict as he did. Many a time he had tried to think back on it, but there was no clear-cut trigger point, no catalyst or reason beyond the fact he just liked booze and progressed from there.
Instead, it was in a memorial garden, in a corner tucked away filled with roses and plaques. Apparently it was a memorial area for lost babies. It made Euan feel woozily sick. He had stood there whilst the celebrant said what she needed to, with a lot of florally bullshit Euan’s brain just couldn’t take in. He didn’t shed a tear. Instead, he focused on the feeling of his son’s hand gripping hold of his own, and his eyes locked on the little brass plaque attached to a small marble statue of an angel. It was just when the celebrant was getting to the point of inviting family to say goodbye to the baby, and she was in the arms of the angels now, and blah blah, insert more bullshit that brought absolutely no peace to him whatosever. He had no idea what he was doing here. Jules had the right idea to ditch it.
It was agitation or annoyance over the ceremony that was gripping him, though. It was a panic that was rushing through him and he didn’t even realise it was happening. One minute, he was standing there, and the next, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t a hot day, but the sun felt like it was beating down on him. His chest was tight and painful, and the last thought that whipped through his mind was wondering if he was having a heart attack. Stars flashed in his peripheral vision, and with the group standing there attentively listening to the celebrant, no one realised what was going on and he passed out cold on the grass right there in front of his deceased baby’s memorial.
Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)
adj. 1. feeling or showing profound hopelessness, dejection, discouragement, or gloom.
Euan hated goodbyes. To the point he would distinctly avoid them where he could. He didn’t know what it was that caused the aversion, but he had even missed his own parents’ funerals because he hadn’t wanted to stand there looking at the coffins and knowing he would never see them again. Instead, he went and got trashed. He spent the whole night in a pub after shooting up heroin. To this day, he still regretted not going. He regretted a lot of things, really.
Which was why expecting a new baby with his new wife had been a yardstick of new hope for him. It was going to be that point in his life where he could pause and realise that no matter how much he had fucked up in the past, he could turn it around into something priceless to him. Something that knew all the fighting was worth.
He still had all of that. He had his son, who was his world, and he was a newlywed now. But it was all now shrouded in pain, heartache and loss. He was really beginning to fear this might shatter the foundations of their relationship. Julie had stopped communicating with him beyond the bare minimum. She was depressed, despondent, flat and numb. Now, just a couple of weeks following the surgery in the wake of the miscarriage, she was already planning to go back to work when Euan had desperately tried to get her to take more time to heal.
Now they were having a memorial for their baby daughter they lost. Some of that medical staff said it could be a very healing thing for families who suffered the devastating loss… for others, it was too hard to face. Julie had, at first, said she wanted it. But that morning, she had pulled out on going and went back to bed instead. Euan was crushed, but he threw up the walls and the masks so that no one would see his true pain. Instead, he went along with his son, and his other New York based family.
It wasn’t in a church. He refused to honour anything related to religion. He was every bit the Atheist and though religion was a farce. He had been raised Catholic when he was a boy, but as he and his siblings got older, their parents had left it up to them to choose whether they wanted to practice or not. Euan chose to go get pissed at the local pub. In those days, the local country Irish pubs didn’t care about checking IDs. He didn’t know what had led him to become as severe an addict as he did. Many a time he had tried to think back on it, but there was no clear-cut trigger point, no catalyst or reason beyond the fact he just liked booze and progressed from there.
Instead, it was in a memorial garden, in a corner tucked away filled with roses and plaques. Apparently it was a memorial area for lost babies. It made Euan feel woozily sick. He had stood there whilst the celebrant said what she needed to, with a lot of florally bullshit Euan’s brain just couldn’t take in. He didn’t shed a tear. Instead, he focused on the feeling of his son’s hand gripping hold of his own, and his eyes locked on the little brass plaque attached to a small marble statue of an angel. It was just when the celebrant was getting to the point of inviting family to say goodbye to the baby, and she was in the arms of the angels now, and blah blah, insert more bullshit that brought absolutely no peace to him whatosever. He had no idea what he was doing here. Jules had the right idea to ditch it.
It was agitation or annoyance over the ceremony that was gripping him, though. It was a panic that was rushing through him and he didn’t even realise it was happening. One minute, he was standing there, and the next, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t a hot day, but the sun felt like it was beating down on him. His chest was tight and painful, and the last thought that whipped through his mind was wondering if he was having a heart attack. Stars flashed in his peripheral vision, and with the group standing there attentively listening to the celebrant, no one realised what was going on and he passed out cold on the grass right there in front of his deceased baby’s memorial.
Euan Fitzpatrick (Original Character)