Detective Julie Gresham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hotbrassdance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-04-12 10:57 pm
hotbrassdance) wrote in muserevival2014-04-12 10:57 pm
Quote of the Day 067.
“I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn’t something about you at all. It was just you.”
- Jamie McGuire
Julie took Euan to his appointment at the hospital that day, now that he had gotten to the point of no return and had to tell her. There was a cold chill of guilt inside her that she had just so quickly assumed he was using again, and it also terrified her how the symptoms mimicked a hangover or coming down from a high. Ciaran was having fun with his Aunty Mandy and Uncle Keiran, so they had a bit of time bought to try to figure out what the next move was. They had stopped off at the gift shop to get Beau some flowers because Euan wanted to drop in and chat to him, probably to ask for advice. Who could blame him? Julie had taken the time to sit down with Euan's Oncologist so she could get all the information that Euan was struggling to face.
They were home again now, and Euan was sick and exhausted. He was holding it together surprisingly well despite the breakdown the day before, but she could see how much he was hating the weakness and the uncontrollable sickness. The nurses had given him a strong dose of something to help with the nausea before the session ended, and as soon as they got home, he just lay on the bed face down and crashed out. Julie got his shoes off and stripped him out of jeans to pull the covers up over him and tuck them in gently around him.
She sat on the bed beside him, and touched his hand resting against the pillow beside his head. He had his wedding ring back on now and her fingers touched it softly, her mind plunging into a mix of thoughts, worries and fears. Hell, their story was a damn messy one, without a doubt. It was no Disney movie or cheesy romcom by any means. It seemed that when they finally figured out what they were, and what they meant to each other, someone let the flood dates of a shitstorm open and it had been one thing after another. They scaled one hurdle together, only to seem to find another on the other side... bigger, and harder. Not a single thing in the world could have prepared them for this, though. How could anyone prepare for this?
She rested her hand on his sweaty forehead and tenderly brushed his hair back, studying his pale, unshaven face. She had seen him at his very worst when he had gone through detox a few years ago, then a similar ordeal when he had fallen off the wagon. She had seen him physically sick with worry about his son. She had seen him drunk off his fucking face and passed out in a pool of his own vomit. Now all that just seemed like child's play. None of this was self-inflicted. Maybe the path leading to this had been self-inflicted. Maybe he had become a poster-boy for kicking substance abuse, because look what could happen?
Her fingers slipped in between his, their wedding rings complimenting each other, and she leaned over to softly kiss his hair. Her stomach was churned up inside as she sat there holding him, when the very real fear that she could lose him seemed to hit home. She wanted to stay in denial, she hadn't wanted him to say it to her, but what if she lost him right when they cut the crap and finally got this right? Or got something right at least, and their right.
Maybe in everyone else's definition of 'right', it wasn't right at all, but she didn't fucking care. She loved this giant asshole so fucking much, more than she had ever loved anyone else. He had become part of her long ago, but now he was her other half and she didn't want to lose him. They hadn't had enough time yet. She thought losing her unborn baby was the most painful thing she would have to try to drag herself through and get back up from, brush herself, and figure out what came next.
But she was wrong. This was the most painful thing. Sitting her, holding onto the love of her life as he lay there sick and hurting. She just got him back after he was nearly shot to death, and now this? How as this fucking fair? She rested her head down on his shoulder, still holding him and letting her quiet tears come now he was asleep and couldn't feel terrible for her pain on top of his own.
"I love you," she whispered to him with a reflexively squeeze to his fingers in hers. "I love you and I don't want to let you go."
Julie Fitzpatrick // Original Character
- Jamie McGuire
Julie took Euan to his appointment at the hospital that day, now that he had gotten to the point of no return and had to tell her. There was a cold chill of guilt inside her that she had just so quickly assumed he was using again, and it also terrified her how the symptoms mimicked a hangover or coming down from a high. Ciaran was having fun with his Aunty Mandy and Uncle Keiran, so they had a bit of time bought to try to figure out what the next move was. They had stopped off at the gift shop to get Beau some flowers because Euan wanted to drop in and chat to him, probably to ask for advice. Who could blame him? Julie had taken the time to sit down with Euan's Oncologist so she could get all the information that Euan was struggling to face.
They were home again now, and Euan was sick and exhausted. He was holding it together surprisingly well despite the breakdown the day before, but she could see how much he was hating the weakness and the uncontrollable sickness. The nurses had given him a strong dose of something to help with the nausea before the session ended, and as soon as they got home, he just lay on the bed face down and crashed out. Julie got his shoes off and stripped him out of jeans to pull the covers up over him and tuck them in gently around him.
She sat on the bed beside him, and touched his hand resting against the pillow beside his head. He had his wedding ring back on now and her fingers touched it softly, her mind plunging into a mix of thoughts, worries and fears. Hell, their story was a damn messy one, without a doubt. It was no Disney movie or cheesy romcom by any means. It seemed that when they finally figured out what they were, and what they meant to each other, someone let the flood dates of a shitstorm open and it had been one thing after another. They scaled one hurdle together, only to seem to find another on the other side... bigger, and harder. Not a single thing in the world could have prepared them for this, though. How could anyone prepare for this?
She rested her hand on his sweaty forehead and tenderly brushed his hair back, studying his pale, unshaven face. She had seen him at his very worst when he had gone through detox a few years ago, then a similar ordeal when he had fallen off the wagon. She had seen him physically sick with worry about his son. She had seen him drunk off his fucking face and passed out in a pool of his own vomit. Now all that just seemed like child's play. None of this was self-inflicted. Maybe the path leading to this had been self-inflicted. Maybe he had become a poster-boy for kicking substance abuse, because look what could happen?
Her fingers slipped in between his, their wedding rings complimenting each other, and she leaned over to softly kiss his hair. Her stomach was churned up inside as she sat there holding him, when the very real fear that she could lose him seemed to hit home. She wanted to stay in denial, she hadn't wanted him to say it to her, but what if she lost him right when they cut the crap and finally got this right? Or got something right at least, and their right.
Maybe in everyone else's definition of 'right', it wasn't right at all, but she didn't fucking care. She loved this giant asshole so fucking much, more than she had ever loved anyone else. He had become part of her long ago, but now he was her other half and she didn't want to lose him. They hadn't had enough time yet. She thought losing her unborn baby was the most painful thing she would have to try to drag herself through and get back up from, brush herself, and figure out what came next.
But she was wrong. This was the most painful thing. Sitting her, holding onto the love of her life as he lay there sick and hurting. She just got him back after he was nearly shot to death, and now this? How as this fucking fair? She rested her head down on his shoulder, still holding him and letting her quiet tears come now he was asleep and couldn't feel terrible for her pain on top of his own.
"I love you," she whispered to him with a reflexively squeeze to his fingers in hers. "I love you and I don't want to let you go."
Julie Fitzpatrick // Original Character
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