|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jan 13, 2016 3:23 pm
Fritz had disappeared from her flat before she'd woken up and there'd been a swell of panic that had taken over the redhead when she'd gone to check on him and found the bed empty. Her concern for the man had plagued her for days after, because she had no way of contacting him, of making sure that his stitches hadn't ripped or, at the very least, that he was still alive.
It was frustrating to say the least and Fiona hadn't been this irritable since she'd seen Kam back in DC for the first time.
If she ever saw Fritz, or Celsus, again she was going to have some words with him.
It appeared that, for the first time since the new year rang in, that luck was on her side because she spotted a very familiar stock of red hair. Lips pursing into a thin line, Fiona decided then and there that if it was who she thought it was, she was going to confront him.
She pushed through the crowd of people as politely as she could, with an excuse me here and a pardon me there until she was close enough that she knew he'd hear her. "Fritz!"kuropeco uuuuh oh, Fritz is in trooooouble
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 12:36 am
He'd left.
He'd left, and he hadn't left a note, though Fritz had actually intended to. In his haste to get out, however, he'd simply forgotten, and the weight of his guilt had seeped into him like a plague, blackening his thoughts until he felt as though they were crumbling to dust before his very eyes.
Fiona had been kind to him. She'd taken him in, she'd sewn him up - literally. She'd given him clothes to wear, had made him tea, and had essentially done all she could to make sure that he was comfortable and as pain free as humanly possible (though he doubted whether he could be truly pain free).
And what had he done to repay that kindness? He'd run away.
Like he always did.
He was pushing his way now through throngs of people, coat drawn up against the cold. Fritz walked with a slow, lagging pace where once he would have been brisk and cheerful and confident. He looked much worse for the wear than he had even that night, eyes hollowed, and the whispers of the Code were in his ear, seeping into his thoughts.
He heard a voice, half turned, and then caught sight of the speaker. At once, Fritz's eyes went wide, mouth suddenly dry, and he turned, quickened his steps, and tried to ignore the frantic beating of his heart.
Maybe if he just walked fast enough, he'd get out of reach.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 2:15 pm
Fritz running away just served to irritate the woman further, an annoyed huff escaping her mouth as she slid between people and quickened her pace. It was like that debacle with Kam two years ago.
Why did they always think they could just runaway?
"Hey," Fiona hissed coming up behind him and grabbing at his arm. "Seriously? It's bad enough that you just up and left the other day, but now you're going to runaway here too?" From an outside perspective, it probably seemed like the man had run out on her after a one night stand or something.
Her brows were crinkled and her expression a mixture of concern and frustration when she looked at him. He looked worse than before and, instantly, Fiona was worried. "It-- It was really shitty of you, I was really worried when I woke up and you were gone." She swallowed down her panic while mismatched eyes swept across his face.
He looked gaunt and hollow. Her stomach churned and she felt sick.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 8:10 pm
The guilt burned. He could feel it sweeping through his veins, thick and painful, clogging his throat so that even the thought of speaking made his head spin. Nausea rose in his throat, and Fritz kept walking, though he stumbled, his feet tripping over nothing.
A hand closed around his arm, jerking him to a stop. Fritz staggered, and it was a testament to just how weak he'd become that fighting to free himself seemed not to be an option, a small, half strangled sound escaping him that was something like a gasp.
For a moment, words would not come. He felt frozen in place, body as tense as a wire, as though any small movement would cause him to shatter.
"I..." He started hoarsely, and then stopped, because there was no explanation. Fiona had done so much good for him, and how had he repaid her? He'd run away. He'd hidden. Whispers twisted through his mind, terrible terrible terrible, followed by pathetic pathetic pathetic.
Fritz closed his eyes, swallowing painfully hard.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just - I should have written a note, I'm sorry."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 1:51 pm
She hadn't expected him to cave and apologize so easily, it'd been hell getting anyone else she ever had to confront to apologize and for a moment, Fiona stood there dumbstruck. "I'm sorry -- I -- what did you say?" She fumbled over her words, mismatched eyes wide in surprise.
The grip on his arm slackened and Fiona ran her tongue across her teeth while she tried to decide on what to say. "You're right," she decided, firm and unyielding as she looked up at him. He only had slight height on her, but she was wearing flats and it was enough of a difference that she had to tilt her chin slightly to look at him.
"What the hell were you thinking? You could have seriously hurt yourself, ended up in the hospital. For god's sake Fritz," she rattled on, "do you have any idea how freaked I was?" She'd spent the better part of the morning looking for traces of him, to see if there ended up being a blood trail she could follow.
She'd found nothing.
"I thought you were dead."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 5:08 pm
There were people on either side of them, sounds and laughter and voices, as though the world was continuing to move on and on without Fritz in it. He stood frozen in place, tension so thick in his shoulders that they seemed almost bird like, shoulder blades sharp beneath his jacket.
Even after her grasp loosened, he remained in place, Fritz's breathing quickening, so that each one tried to get more air into his lungs, short, quick things that he tried to keep under control.
Pathetic.
"I said - I said I was sorry," he whispered, and now the tension was slipping, replaced by a tremor that seemed to run from Fritz's head all the way down to his feet. He felt a terrible, sweeping sense of nausea rise in his throat and swallowed painfully hard to try and quell it, blinking rapidly against the onslaught of dizziness.
He couldn't even defend himself against the accusations, because they were all true, and he knew it. Knew it, and felt the surge of guilt and shame again, burning through his veins, so that it rose up and choked him, twisting terribly in his gut.
I thought you were dead.
Fritz's eyes slowly closed.
"I am," he said quietly, and everything seemed to ebb out of him except for the consistent thrum of mistake mistake mistake through his thoughts. "There's no reason to concern yourself over me, I'm sorry, Fiona."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 1:48 pm
Fiona's look of concern rippled into one of fury when Fritz spoke.
I am. There's no reason to concern yourself over me.
Suddenly, with those words, the woman was furious and, before she could think twice about it, she'd lifted her hand and slapped Fritz across the face. It was a harsh one, who's sound had echoed and attracted the attention of those passing by and left her hand stinging while she glared at him.
"How dare you," she hissed, advancing on him until she'd thoughroughly invaded what little personal space he had left. "First off, you don't get to decide what I concern myself over and secondly, you're an a*****e if you think that you're better off dead or as good as dead." The redhead had never been good at holding back her sharp tongue when she was angry and, boy, Fritz had gotten her angry.
She didn't think that she'd been this worked up over Kam.
"I get that you're going through stuff, I'm not discrediting that but you don't get to push everyone away because you'd rather be stuck in your self-loathing. People give a s**t about you Fritz and to say things like that-- that you're dead--" she struggled to finish her sentence, to reign in the righteous fury that coursed through her. "Believe it or not, but I give a s**t about you and I don't want to hear any bullshit excuses about how you 'don't deserve it' because you do. You deserve to have someone care about you, who cares whether or not your alive."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2016 2:40 pm
Crack.
His hand flew up automatically, Fritz's eyes growing wide with shock. A sharp, rippling pain had lanced through him, starting from his cheek and expanding out, until a heat and a terrible ache were making his face burn, making his eyes water.
But he couldn't say that he didn't deserve it. He couldn't say that he was even angry at it, a sense of horrible loss and shame and despair twisting Fritz's stomach unpleasantly. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes against Fiona's angry tirade, the words sinking into him like little needles in his skin.
You're an a*****e.
You don't get to push everyone away.
I don't want to hear any bullshit.
Everything hurt; his chest, his heart, his entire body. Fritz wanted to drown where he stood, the voices inside of his head swelling to almost deafening levels, pounding against his skull like Fiona's hand against his cheek. They were a constant buzz, a consistent thrum of a reminder.
Pathetic. See? She's telling you that you're pathetic. Because you are.
You can't do anything right.
"I'm - " His voice cracked and splintered, his eyes wide and fearful, too glassy.
"I'm sorry - " Fritz gasped out, and his chest was too tight; his vision kept wavering in and out, his hand still against his face, and his breath was coming out shorter now, fast and almost frantic. "I'm - I'm sorry - p-please, I didn't - I didn't mean to d-disappoint you - "
But you always do and you always will.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 11:29 am
Fritz wasn't getting it, he didn't get it and that was more frustrating than the fact that he'd skipped out on her. "Fritz," she pleaded because she needed him to understand. "That's not-- It's not about disappointment, okay? It's about me being your friend and being concerned about you," she tried, hoping he'd understand a little better.
"Look at you Fritz, you're practically a walking corpse," her voice softened and she reached out to touch him gingerly on the hand covering his cheek. Her blue and green eyes traced his face, took in his gaunt appearance and the bruises beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, weeks even, and like he wasn't even trying to care for himself.
"I'm not disappointed, I'm worried and those are very different things." She tried to speak as gently as possible. "I don't know what's going on, but you need help. Trying to deal with things by yourself isn't working so, let me help."
The redhead was stubborn by nature and she wasn't about to let a perfectly good man go around like he was the worst person alive. Fritz was better than that and while Fiona didn't know exactly what was going on, she was determined to find out.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:33 pm
Her words sifted in and out, like a radio off key, badly tuned. Fritz was dimly aware that they were still on the street and that there were people around them, but they seemed to be fading away to nothing. He couldn't concentrate, his breath quickening, and Fritz could feel the tightness to his chest as though it was a physical ache.
He couldn't catch his breath. It stuttered out of him, painfully and harshly.
"No, no, no," Fritz gasped out, and he was drowning in blackness, his eyes overly bright, a dampness to his lashes that hadn't been there before. He couldn't move, couldn't even get past the way his body seemed to be turning against itself.
"Sorry," he whispered, "Sorry - sorry - I - sorry - "
His legs were shaking. Fritz was bent halfway over, one arm wrapped around his stomach, his other hand pressed against his mouth.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2016 3:07 pm
Fiona could tell that he wasn't listening -- or couldn't hear her -- and it was concerning more than the repetitive apologizes. Particularly so when he swayed on his feet and folded into himself.
"Fritz, Fritz can you hear me?" She asked, crouching before him, tentatively reaching for his face. She hesitated, pulled back into herself. Touching him wasn't going to help, it was probably going to make things worse. "Hey," she said softly, soothingly. "We should get you to a bench or chair -- somewhere you can sit," she suggested, scanning their surroundings for the closest thing.
She didn't want him passing out on her again, not in the middle of the street in a crowd of people when she couldn't do anything to help him without, well help.
"Fritz, you're going to be okay? Just-- breathe, focus on me and my voice."
How did she always end up caring about people in shitty positions?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2016 3:36 pm
I'm sorry.
I can't take this anymore, I can't do this, I can't, forgive me, please -
I never meant to disappoint you, I -
Fiona's voice was wavering in and out. Fritz's fingers delved into his own hair in an attempt at holding himself steady, his breathing staccato and messy, everything feeling as though it was too tight, too suffocatingly small.
Why can't I do this why can't I just breathe -
He didn't know how much time had passed before he came back to his senses; before his head started to clear, just a tiny bit, the fog that was clouding his vision shifting and twisting, until Fritz became aware that Fiona was still there, standing in front of him.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out until a partially croaked, "bench" was whispered.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 11:31 am
It wasn't working, it wasn't working and inwardly, Fiona was panicking. Outwardly, she remained calm and collected because she needed to be. If she was falling to pieces Celsus would just take it poorly and everything would go to s**t, well worse than it already was.
"Fritz," she called a little more sternly, grabbing at his wrist and trying to gently ease his hands from his hair. "Look at me, I'm here, breathe," she kept trying knowing that next to nothing was getting through to him.
He had a wild look in his eyes that she didn't understand. What was happening to him? He looked like he was going through a withdrawal but from what, she had no idea.
Bench, he croaked and Fiona slipped one of his arms over her shoulder and led him towards the nearest one. She sat him down carefully, slipping out from beneath his arm and knelt before him. "Fritz, what's going on?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 4:33 pm
He jerked as she touched his wrist; an involuntary reaction, but after a moment, he gave in and allowed his hand to be guided from his hair. Fritz tried to focus on breathing, tried to focus on the fact that he could feel Fiona's arm around him, guiding him to sit down, and he stumbled ungracefully after her.
Fritz all but collapsed on the bench, bent over with his head in his hands. For a long moment, he felt as though no words could possibly explain everything that he was feeling - and everything he was not feeling. He was sinking deeper and deeper into the mire of his own head, and it was almost laughable how pathetic he was.
His shoulders were tense, sharp. Every now and then, he gave a little shudder, and pressed his lips more firmly together to keep from throwing up.
"I...don't know," he whispered, finally, and it came out ragged. "I just - I can't - I can't do anything, I can't be anything, I shouldn't - I should never have been a knight, not - not me, I can't - "
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 12:55 pm
She sat there, crouched before him, peering up in concern. This was hard to watch, she'd never seen someone suffering the way Fritz was suffering. In a lot of ways, he looked like an addict going through a withdrawal but considering she'd never known someone going through one she couldn't say for certain.
Besides, she didn't want to make assumptions, they always made things worse.
"Why are you saying that? Why do you feel that way?" The questions came out in soft, slow sentences with no judgements or anger behind them, just idle curiosity. "You don't need to be anything but Fritz, if that's what's stressing you out. You don't-- Fritz," Fiona sighed, tentatively reaching for his knee.
"Fritz, we were gifted with things for a reason but it's still our lives. It's our choice to live a life of our choosing. Anyone who tells you otherwise-- they're wrong."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
