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)
muserevival2013-12-11 10:22 pm
hotbrassdance) wrote in muserevival2013-12-11 10:22 pm
Entry tags:
046.1. Muse prompt
"Give me reason but don't give me choose.
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again"
Same Mistake, James Blunt
Written with input fromlovesguinness
She was still waiting. It was starting to feel like she had been sitting beside this hospital bed for years. There was a difference today, though. When she had gotten there that morning, there were trauma surgeons consulting with intensivists, who were discussing various things with a cardiothoracic specialist. It all boiled down to a whole lot of medical jargon she couldn’t understand, but ultimately the decision was made to take Euan off the ventilator to see if he would breathe on his own. He had. Now in place of that large invasive tube in his mouth there was an oxygen mask, but he still wasn’t awake.
She wasn’t holding his hand this time. Instead, her head was propped up on one hand while the fingers of her other stroked softly and slowly through his thick, dark hair. He was going to need another shave soon. He was the sort of guy who could shave in the morning, but by the time night came again, he was due another shave to stay clean-cut. Probably why he was never that. The ever-present stubble was one of the things she had always found hot and she never wanted or needed him to be the clean-shaven, sort, back and sides haircut, pristine metrosexual. He was rough, and not just around the edges. She missed his blunt honesty and his dry, crass sense of humour. She missed the way he told it like it was, whether you liked it or not. She missed the way he didn’t sugarcoat anything. She missed the way he didn’t give a flying fuck if someone didn’t like what he had to say, and she missed his hardass attitude that kept everything real. Sometimes the truth hurt, but sometimes, it was the only thing you truly needed to hear to keep your head above water.
Probably why this all felt like a nightmare. But no matter how much she kept expecting to wake up from it, she didn’t. As much as it didn’t feel real, that didn’t stop it being so. It had been two and a half weeks now and her patience was wearing thin. Her fingers, threading through his hair with rhythmic strokes, stopped suddenly and she watched his face. She knew that trying to will him awake wasn’t going to work. His little boy tried that, and if that little hand around his dad’s much bigger one wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of this, nothing would be. Finally, it just all got the better of her, and she gave his upper arm a rough nudge and growled in frustration. She pushed up out of the chair, grabbing a handful of her own red hair while she began pacing back and forth beside the bed.
“Why the fuck can’t you just fucking wake up?!” Julie snapped angrily. Her winter boots that she was forced to dig out of the cupboard that morning due to the snow were clicking on the linoleum floor and by now she was more stalking back and forth than mere pacing. “I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here anymore! Can’t you just fucking wake up and give me a reason for all this fuckery! You’re supposed to be goddamn shitting invincible one! You’re supposed to be the one to live through all this asshole bullshit! What gives you the fucking right to just lie there like that and expect me to... to... just do whatever it is I’m supposed to be fucking doing here?!”
She stopped, but by now she couldn’t even look at him. If she did, she was going to burst into tears and never stop. They had been pent up for days now and she was going to fall completely apart if she started to let the cracks show. Instead, she was going to get angry. Because angry was the fucking easy way out. It was the coward’s route. It wasn’t facing up to the bullshit and accepting that life had served you an asshole hand and you have to grow a pair and deal with it like a fucking boss. Instead, anger was just an outlet because if it wasn’t anger, she was scared what the alternative might be. The only problem was, with anger, he was usually right there to fight back. Their arguments were notorious, and it could well be a danger zone if she unleashed this and he wasn’t there as a sounding board. But there was no stopping now.
The grip she had on her hair now was almost painful and she wasn’t even sure she could string a proper sentence together. As it was, all the cussing that started to escape her, there was no way it could be termed ‘proper’ anyway. “You had to just go and fucking change everything, didn’t you?! You changed it and then you fucking took it back! We’re like the fucking bloody Nanny and Mrs Sheffield, and I hate that fucking show! Do you know how many times Rosie made me sit through that when I wanted to punch the fucking screen because her voice irritated the hell out me? Why the fuck did you have to make me go and fall in love with you, you giant fucking moronic large pile of shitting damn dog’s balls! I want to hate you! I want you to wake up so I can tell you I hate you! But you won’t wake up, because you know I fucking love you, and I bet you’re just doing this to drive me fucking nuts, you fucking asshole piece of giant... giant...”
“Fuckin’ cunt?”
Julie nearly tripped over her own foot. She made an odd squeak sound of shock when the words died on her lips. Her back was to the bed and she had frozen on the spot, hand coming up over her mouth because she was scared to move or make another sound in case her mind was playing tricks on her. Tears flooded her eyes then, but she just stayed rooted on the spot, holding her breath. She was scared to turn around in case she had just imagined it. His voice had been haunting her restless and shallow sleep for two and a half weeks now. She had to have been imagining it.
“An’ they say I gotta fuckin’ filthy mouth...”
Julie bit down so hard on her lip, she could taste blood and she gave a small shake of her head, trying to deny the fact this was happening. She couldn’t just ignore it though. It was a shallow, choked breath that she managed to suck in and then she gave a timid and hesitant glance over her shoulder. Nothing looked different. At least, not on first glance. Her eyes travelled from his feet upwards and eventually they made it to his face. And there they were. His dark eyes, barely open, and looking at where she was stuck to the spot near the end of the bed. That was when she burst in to tears, because if it wasn’t that, she would have climbed up onto the bed and given him a right-hook right back into unconsciousness, and frankly, that would be counter-productive.
She nearly stumbled when she turned and practically threw herself towards him. Her hands cupped around his cheeks and she just held him like that, thumbs brushing over the rough stubble as if she was familiarising herself all over again with his he felt awake again. Her forehead came to rest against his and she just couldn’t let go. Not yet. Soon. Or maybe not, in case he went and flatlined on her again. “Just shut up. Just shut the fuck up and don’t say a word,” she begged him in a whisper, but he was never good at following orders.
“Ya’ tits look braw in tha’ top.”
Laughing. That’s what Julie found herself doing next. Sure, it was more like a wet, choked cough and she still had her hands cupped around his face because she was still scared to let go, but just like that, it went from feeling like a nightmare to the Fitzpatrick charm once again keeping it real. It only lasted a few moments before she was sobbing again and she would probably cop shit from him later for it. Or maybe not. Instead of pulling the piss out of her like he normally would, he turned his head just slightly into hers and his fingers touched the side of her leg. It would have been all he could manage, and it was all she needed. For Euan, it was when he was quiet... silent... that he said the most, and it was all the reason she needed to know for sure that she had made a mistake in doubting him, and she would never, ever make it again.
Julie Gresham // Original Character // 1,474 words
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again"
Same Mistake, James Blunt
Written with input from
lovesguinnessShe was still waiting. It was starting to feel like she had been sitting beside this hospital bed for years. There was a difference today, though. When she had gotten there that morning, there were trauma surgeons consulting with intensivists, who were discussing various things with a cardiothoracic specialist. It all boiled down to a whole lot of medical jargon she couldn’t understand, but ultimately the decision was made to take Euan off the ventilator to see if he would breathe on his own. He had. Now in place of that large invasive tube in his mouth there was an oxygen mask, but he still wasn’t awake.
She wasn’t holding his hand this time. Instead, her head was propped up on one hand while the fingers of her other stroked softly and slowly through his thick, dark hair. He was going to need another shave soon. He was the sort of guy who could shave in the morning, but by the time night came again, he was due another shave to stay clean-cut. Probably why he was never that. The ever-present stubble was one of the things she had always found hot and she never wanted or needed him to be the clean-shaven, sort, back and sides haircut, pristine metrosexual. He was rough, and not just around the edges. She missed his blunt honesty and his dry, crass sense of humour. She missed the way he told it like it was, whether you liked it or not. She missed the way he didn’t sugarcoat anything. She missed the way he didn’t give a flying fuck if someone didn’t like what he had to say, and she missed his hardass attitude that kept everything real. Sometimes the truth hurt, but sometimes, it was the only thing you truly needed to hear to keep your head above water.
Probably why this all felt like a nightmare. But no matter how much she kept expecting to wake up from it, she didn’t. As much as it didn’t feel real, that didn’t stop it being so. It had been two and a half weeks now and her patience was wearing thin. Her fingers, threading through his hair with rhythmic strokes, stopped suddenly and she watched his face. She knew that trying to will him awake wasn’t going to work. His little boy tried that, and if that little hand around his dad’s much bigger one wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of this, nothing would be. Finally, it just all got the better of her, and she gave his upper arm a rough nudge and growled in frustration. She pushed up out of the chair, grabbing a handful of her own red hair while she began pacing back and forth beside the bed.
“Why the fuck can’t you just fucking wake up?!” Julie snapped angrily. Her winter boots that she was forced to dig out of the cupboard that morning due to the snow were clicking on the linoleum floor and by now she was more stalking back and forth than mere pacing. “I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here anymore! Can’t you just fucking wake up and give me a reason for all this fuckery! You’re supposed to be goddamn shitting invincible one! You’re supposed to be the one to live through all this asshole bullshit! What gives you the fucking right to just lie there like that and expect me to... to... just do whatever it is I’m supposed to be fucking doing here?!”
She stopped, but by now she couldn’t even look at him. If she did, she was going to burst into tears and never stop. They had been pent up for days now and she was going to fall completely apart if she started to let the cracks show. Instead, she was going to get angry. Because angry was the fucking easy way out. It was the coward’s route. It wasn’t facing up to the bullshit and accepting that life had served you an asshole hand and you have to grow a pair and deal with it like a fucking boss. Instead, anger was just an outlet because if it wasn’t anger, she was scared what the alternative might be. The only problem was, with anger, he was usually right there to fight back. Their arguments were notorious, and it could well be a danger zone if she unleashed this and he wasn’t there as a sounding board. But there was no stopping now.
The grip she had on her hair now was almost painful and she wasn’t even sure she could string a proper sentence together. As it was, all the cussing that started to escape her, there was no way it could be termed ‘proper’ anyway. “You had to just go and fucking change everything, didn’t you?! You changed it and then you fucking took it back! We’re like the fucking bloody Nanny and Mrs Sheffield, and I hate that fucking show! Do you know how many times Rosie made me sit through that when I wanted to punch the fucking screen because her voice irritated the hell out me? Why the fuck did you have to make me go and fall in love with you, you giant fucking moronic large pile of shitting damn dog’s balls! I want to hate you! I want you to wake up so I can tell you I hate you! But you won’t wake up, because you know I fucking love you, and I bet you’re just doing this to drive me fucking nuts, you fucking asshole piece of giant... giant...”
“Fuckin’ cunt?”
Julie nearly tripped over her own foot. She made an odd squeak sound of shock when the words died on her lips. Her back was to the bed and she had frozen on the spot, hand coming up over her mouth because she was scared to move or make another sound in case her mind was playing tricks on her. Tears flooded her eyes then, but she just stayed rooted on the spot, holding her breath. She was scared to turn around in case she had just imagined it. His voice had been haunting her restless and shallow sleep for two and a half weeks now. She had to have been imagining it.
“An’ they say I gotta fuckin’ filthy mouth...”
Julie bit down so hard on her lip, she could taste blood and she gave a small shake of her head, trying to deny the fact this was happening. She couldn’t just ignore it though. It was a shallow, choked breath that she managed to suck in and then she gave a timid and hesitant glance over her shoulder. Nothing looked different. At least, not on first glance. Her eyes travelled from his feet upwards and eventually they made it to his face. And there they were. His dark eyes, barely open, and looking at where she was stuck to the spot near the end of the bed. That was when she burst in to tears, because if it wasn’t that, she would have climbed up onto the bed and given him a right-hook right back into unconsciousness, and frankly, that would be counter-productive.
She nearly stumbled when she turned and practically threw herself towards him. Her hands cupped around his cheeks and she just held him like that, thumbs brushing over the rough stubble as if she was familiarising herself all over again with his he felt awake again. Her forehead came to rest against his and she just couldn’t let go. Not yet. Soon. Or maybe not, in case he went and flatlined on her again. “Just shut up. Just shut the fuck up and don’t say a word,” she begged him in a whisper, but he was never good at following orders.
“Ya’ tits look braw in tha’ top.”
Laughing. That’s what Julie found herself doing next. Sure, it was more like a wet, choked cough and she still had her hands cupped around his face because she was still scared to let go, but just like that, it went from feeling like a nightmare to the Fitzpatrick charm once again keeping it real. It only lasted a few moments before she was sobbing again and she would probably cop shit from him later for it. Or maybe not. Instead of pulling the piss out of her like he normally would, he turned his head just slightly into hers and his fingers touched the side of her leg. It would have been all he could manage, and it was all she needed. For Euan, it was when he was quiet... silent... that he said the most, and it was all the reason she needed to know for sure that she had made a mistake in doubting him, and she would never, ever make it again.
Julie Gresham // Original Character // 1,474 words