Callum Daniel MacDonald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
actionthisday) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2015-09-22 01:05 pm
actionthisday) wrote in muserevival2015-09-22 01:05 pm
Entry tags:
101.2. Quotes Prompt
"My brother is one of my true heroes." - Mark McKinnon
No words could cover how crap Callum was feeling right now. There was a sick fear in his gut, and the only thing drowning it out was the guilt he had over the fight with Casey and the subsequent silent treatment they had been giving each other. Now Casey was hurt in a way bad enough that he was unconscious in the Intensive Care Unit. Because he was so distressed about their dad’s birthday and the thought of going to the cemetery to pay respects had him wanting to drink himself into oblivion, away from where anyone could stop him.
Callum was struggling with the hospital. He wasn’t the sort to run away and cower in a corner declaring how scared of hospitals were that he couldn’t bear visiting his sick twin brother. In fact, nothing - no emotions, natural disasters, fear, people, or things - would keep him away from Casey right now. And everyone knew not to even try to get him to move.
On the face of it, Casey didn’t look extensively injured. He hit his head at the back, and there were some bruises on the side of his face, but that was as far as it went. Yep, he was still unconscious, looking the same colour as the sheets he was lying on, and had a tube in his mouth and down his throat to help him breathe. All of their family were still scared by the time Casey was in hospital following the heart attack and accident that claimed their dad’s life. They had been lucky to keep Casey. Their dad had been a DOA.
The smell is what got to Callum the most. That heavy, sharp antiseptic smell. It permeated into all your senses, and felt like it would stick to you for weeks. Normally, Callum could avert himself to it. He was dating a doctor, he visited Ethan for lunch sometimes, and even had his own hospital stay recently after having the misfortune of getting malaria on a filming tour in Africa for college. But when it was someone you loved in here, and you couldn’t do a single fucking thing to help them, it became overwhelming and distressing.
Casey was everything to him. They were identical twins, and had that stereotypical identical twin thing happening. They were close, would fuck anyone up who tried to hurt them, and the twin sense was a real phenomenon. It was why they even knew something was wrong with Casey. Callum had woken in the midst of a terrible panic attack, and he couldn’t get out of it until he went to see if Casey was okay. Casey wasn’t. He wasn’t there, he was missing. Callum, understandably, immediately raised all alarms. Nothing would have stopped him making sure Casey was found.
Found, but not okay. He had trashed himself, and then some. Completely intoxicated to the point he passed out in a gutter, smashed his head on the roadside, and passed out. Then got robbed of all his valuable belongs - wallet with ID, phone, watch, jewellery, designer clothes. The alcohol poisoning triggered possibly a seizure and hypothermia, which was likely exacerbated lying out on the roadside in near nothing but underwear and a tank top. Thank fuck for some kindness left in the world. A homeless lady found him and flagged a cab to call 911. If that hadn’t happened, it was likely Casey would’ve eventually been found dead.
And Callum wouldn’t have been able to go on if he lost his twin. That wasn’t even an exaggeration of a concept. He would literally end himself if Casey died. He couldn’t exist without him. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think about it. It was why he was now sitting at his hospital bedside, hand gripped as tightly around Casey’s like a lifeline, as if it would somehow tether Casey to him and make him okay again. The tears were coming and going. Sometimes, they were falling and he couldn’t stop them. Which he hated, because it made him feel like he should be handling this better. Or others, they eased and he just sat there numbly looking at Casey’s face. He hadn’t even gotten up to go to the bathroom.
The part of him he was struggling with the most, however, was the anger. He tried to cockblock it, but it was in there, desperate to come out. He was angry at Casey for doing this without coming to him for help. Though, he understood that post-traumatic stress disorder, your rational thought process in fight or flight mode was barely functioning. He was angry at himself for pushing Casey so far into anger they fought badly. Though, he still wanted to honour his dad on his birthday, even if he wasn’t here anymore. Most of all, he was angry that any of this had to happen to their family, to their dad, to Casey. Why did it have to happen to them? Why was life so cruel? Why were there so many people willing to try to placate him with ‘Time heals’ or it was ‘God’s Will’? FUCK. THAT.
Just a couple of days ago, he had been the giver of TLC to Ethan who had poured his heart out about a difficult past. Now, as Ethan came up behind Callum, leaned over to give him a kiss, and wrap him in a loving embrace, their places were suddenly reversed. Callum knew then that he didn’t have to keep that broody, tough mask up with Ethan. Instead, he was going to break down in tears again because he was scared and punch-drunk from the onslaught of pain that had hit him hard again. Ethan’s embrace didn’t falter at all.
callum macdonald
- original character -
No words could cover how crap Callum was feeling right now. There was a sick fear in his gut, and the only thing drowning it out was the guilt he had over the fight with Casey and the subsequent silent treatment they had been giving each other. Now Casey was hurt in a way bad enough that he was unconscious in the Intensive Care Unit. Because he was so distressed about their dad’s birthday and the thought of going to the cemetery to pay respects had him wanting to drink himself into oblivion, away from where anyone could stop him.
Callum was struggling with the hospital. He wasn’t the sort to run away and cower in a corner declaring how scared of hospitals were that he couldn’t bear visiting his sick twin brother. In fact, nothing - no emotions, natural disasters, fear, people, or things - would keep him away from Casey right now. And everyone knew not to even try to get him to move.
On the face of it, Casey didn’t look extensively injured. He hit his head at the back, and there were some bruises on the side of his face, but that was as far as it went. Yep, he was still unconscious, looking the same colour as the sheets he was lying on, and had a tube in his mouth and down his throat to help him breathe. All of their family were still scared by the time Casey was in hospital following the heart attack and accident that claimed their dad’s life. They had been lucky to keep Casey. Their dad had been a DOA.
The smell is what got to Callum the most. That heavy, sharp antiseptic smell. It permeated into all your senses, and felt like it would stick to you for weeks. Normally, Callum could avert himself to it. He was dating a doctor, he visited Ethan for lunch sometimes, and even had his own hospital stay recently after having the misfortune of getting malaria on a filming tour in Africa for college. But when it was someone you loved in here, and you couldn’t do a single fucking thing to help them, it became overwhelming and distressing.
Casey was everything to him. They were identical twins, and had that stereotypical identical twin thing happening. They were close, would fuck anyone up who tried to hurt them, and the twin sense was a real phenomenon. It was why they even knew something was wrong with Casey. Callum had woken in the midst of a terrible panic attack, and he couldn’t get out of it until he went to see if Casey was okay. Casey wasn’t. He wasn’t there, he was missing. Callum, understandably, immediately raised all alarms. Nothing would have stopped him making sure Casey was found.
Found, but not okay. He had trashed himself, and then some. Completely intoxicated to the point he passed out in a gutter, smashed his head on the roadside, and passed out. Then got robbed of all his valuable belongs - wallet with ID, phone, watch, jewellery, designer clothes. The alcohol poisoning triggered possibly a seizure and hypothermia, which was likely exacerbated lying out on the roadside in near nothing but underwear and a tank top. Thank fuck for some kindness left in the world. A homeless lady found him and flagged a cab to call 911. If that hadn’t happened, it was likely Casey would’ve eventually been found dead.
And Callum wouldn’t have been able to go on if he lost his twin. That wasn’t even an exaggeration of a concept. He would literally end himself if Casey died. He couldn’t exist without him. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think about it. It was why he was now sitting at his hospital bedside, hand gripped as tightly around Casey’s like a lifeline, as if it would somehow tether Casey to him and make him okay again. The tears were coming and going. Sometimes, they were falling and he couldn’t stop them. Which he hated, because it made him feel like he should be handling this better. Or others, they eased and he just sat there numbly looking at Casey’s face. He hadn’t even gotten up to go to the bathroom.
The part of him he was struggling with the most, however, was the anger. He tried to cockblock it, but it was in there, desperate to come out. He was angry at Casey for doing this without coming to him for help. Though, he understood that post-traumatic stress disorder, your rational thought process in fight or flight mode was barely functioning. He was angry at himself for pushing Casey so far into anger they fought badly. Though, he still wanted to honour his dad on his birthday, even if he wasn’t here anymore. Most of all, he was angry that any of this had to happen to their family, to their dad, to Casey. Why did it have to happen to them? Why was life so cruel? Why were there so many people willing to try to placate him with ‘Time heals’ or it was ‘God’s Will’? FUCK. THAT.
Just a couple of days ago, he had been the giver of TLC to Ethan who had poured his heart out about a difficult past. Now, as Ethan came up behind Callum, leaned over to give him a kiss, and wrap him in a loving embrace, their places were suddenly reversed. Callum knew then that he didn’t have to keep that broody, tough mask up with Ethan. Instead, he was going to break down in tears again because he was scared and punch-drunk from the onslaught of pain that had hit him hard again. Ethan’s embrace didn’t falter at all.
- original character -