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 Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 4:13 pm
It had been almost a week, she thought miserably. A week since Chase had found her and carried her off to the hospital where, from what she understood, she would be recovering from 6 cracked and/or broken ribs as well as a fractured wrist and broken hand. Her right arm was wrapped in a plaster of a neon blue color and she squinted at it. Her fingers could barely move in the damn thing, she hated how many tubes were attached to her. She wasn’t dying.
She could’ve. She should’ve. She had been on that way before Chase. She let her eyes close and try to just brush the images away. His anger, Chase’s worry, the way she snapped at him. Rejected him. She just…
Hit the button and felt the pain ease away and sighed. They said two more weeks. Then maybe she’d be free.
Then maybe she could just...stay home.
She really didn’t want to go back there.
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He hated being here; but Fritz supposed that it was better than the alternative, which was not having his brother and not getting him out of the Negaverse. Things were not exactly perfect, but they were at least not terrible anymore; and the endless despair that had laced Fritz’s mind for months on end was lifting somewhat.
He still felt sick nauseated. The voices were still whispering in his head, that had yet to change. But he had To - Rhys. He had Rhys, and while the name change would take a bit of getting used to after twenty four years of calling him Tolliver, Rhys was alive and well.
And he remembered them.
Fritz was up now, disconnected from his monitor - purposefully - because he had to get away; and he had to get out of this damn bed that he’d been confined in for a day and a half now.
He padded down the hall, now, his entire body aching, and managed to sneak past the nurse’s desk - which at almost one in the morning was momentarily deserted by whichever nurse was meant to be at it - and kept walking, glancing at each of the doors with mild curiosity. Some were open, and some were closed.
And one, about three doors down from his own, and across the hall, made him stop abruptly, his heart hammering in his chest.
There were no nameplates at the door, but he didn’t need one. There was, instead, an all-too-familiar head of white and blue hair spilling across the pillows; and onscreen on her monitor, a silent set of numbers and diagrams that indicated pulse, oxygen levels, and heart rate.
Fritz stared. And then, before he could stop himself, he stepped inside.
He didn’t know whether she was asleep or not. He didn’t want to wake her if she was, so he carefully maneuvered himself into the chair beside her bed and sat down slowly, swallowing almost painfully hard.
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She was attuned to the sounds of the hospital by now. Her ears could tell the difference between a beep on the machine, the feeling of steps as nurses walked by. The rustling of patients who wandered by but never stopped in here. She was listening, she knew, for the heavy thud of Paul’s boots and the staggering way the man carried himself.
She was listening for the almost silent ghost steps of Chase, as the man had not left her since he had found her. Left her alone, she thought better. He had brought her flowers, the only colorful thing in her room. The only time she had ever received flowers. The nurses refreshed them for her and that was okay.
So, when she heard the soft pads of neither Paul or Chase, and the rustle of something that wasn’t normal clothing, Her head tilted over and she looked right into the emerald green eyes of a redhead she knew well.
And who didn’t look much better than herself. The first thing she noticed was the scar on his face. The long cut over his eyes. The second was the shorter hairstyle. Gone was the long artistic flair of hair, that had given him a very...painterly look.
The next was the cast over his hand, almost similar to hers. She had bruises, the black and blue and a split lip. Cosmetic damage, she thought bitterly. Would heal over time. Then she’d have her petite girl face back again. She mulled over the words and spouted the first thing that came to her mind.
“What, you go back for a round two with your mugger?” Nailed it.
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He tried to figure out what he was doing here, decided that it took too much of his brain to untangle the confusing thoughts, and changed his mind. Fritz leaned back in the seat, his eyes drifting over the bruises, the tubes, the bandages -
-the blue eyes that met his as Regan turned her head to look at him.
For a moment, it was silent between them, and he knew that he was probably not who she expected to see. Fritz watched as her gaze took in his own injuries as he had just done seconds before with hers, and wondered what exactly she saw. The cut to his face was healing well, though it probably looked relatively stupid, covered in stitches and steri strips. The heavy cast that came all the way up to his elbow on his left hand, the dark circles still beneath his eyes, the wrappings around his neck.
And then she spoke and Fritz felt the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Something like that,” he said, and gave a little laugh before it faded. Another beat of silence passed between them as he looked at her, his heartbeat unsteady in his chest.
“And you?” said Fritz quietly, the mirth gone from his eyes. “Meet the same mugger or something? Must be something in the water.”
He thought he knew already. He didn’t want to.
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His laugh, surprisingly, was a more welcome sound than any she had heard so far. Perhaps it was because they both knew exactly what they saw at each other right now. Two similar people, with similar injuries. For different reasons. Whatever fights he got into? They were more serious than some mugger. She was forever going to wonder, but never ask. She didn’t share her business, why would he?
“You could call him that.” She shifted and winced as the pain racked through her system, her heart moniter rising a bit before falling back down. “How’d you escape the machine….Wait, no, How the hell did you get away from Nurse Ratchet out there?” Said nurse was the maintainer of the whole floor and she could hear the woman and her crisp business tone and cold manners to other nurses sometimes.
She even had the misfortune of running into her when she had gotten up to go and find something other than hospital food, like entertainment...or real food. Like a burger.
For some reasons she really wanted a burger.
“Seriously….” She shook her head and tilted her head. “Looks worse then it is. Just so you know.” Okay that was such a obvious lie. She didn’t want him to worry after all.
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He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the monitor’s numbers shift as Regan moved, and he felt panic spike his veins, Fritz half rising out of his seat to stop her. But then it settled back into place, and so did Fritz, trying to ignore the sense of unsettling feelings that kept twisting his thoughts.
“I snuck past,” he said, which was perfectly true. “I was going for a walk, and then I passed your room and saw that I wasn’t the only one who decided to take a little vacation in hospital land.”
A terrible and unexpected desire to reach out and push some of Regan’s hair back away from her forehead was in Fritz’s mind; he tamped down on it, ignored the way his fingers still trembled even after all that he’d been through.
“It’s not,” said Fritz, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s not worse than it is, you look…”
He did not want to say terrible.
“...in pain,” he finished, sounding pained about even that.
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“That’s a polite way of saying I look terrible.” She sighed and tilted her head back. “Broken ribs, bruised face. I’ve been avoiding the mirror for vanity’s sake. It’ll fade away with time, you know.” She shrugged, “It disappears, It always does and then I’ll be back to normal….” Except, when she raised her hand, it was broken, and her ribs would never heal the same.
They told her that she wouldn’t be able to lift like she normally did.
That she shouldn’t do normal activities, running? Out of the question. Yoga? Unless she wanted to aggravate the wound again. It pissed her off, that her body was small and weak and practically glass under the hands of one ham fisted man.
The anger bubbled up and disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Your hand.” She wetted her lips, looked down at it and then back up at him. “I...Is it your drawing...the one you draw with?”
God she hoped not, And that surprised her. She hoped that Fritz wounds would heal fast, that he’d be out of here soon. That he wouldn’t have something to haunt him. Anything, she thought, but for Fritz to be hurt like he was.
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 4:21 pm
"It's not," Fritz protested, which was a lie, because it was. He still thought that, beneath the bruises and the bandages, she was a pretty girl, but he didn't say that out loud, instead just ebbing out a sigh that sounded almost pained.
"This is not...normal," he said, with a shake of his head. "It's not. This is..."
But he couldn't say it, because the last time he'd mentioned it, she'd brushed it off. Fritz lifted his unbroken hand and ran it through his hair, which was probably a mess that needed a proper trim. Thanks to Labyrinthite, it was shorter and messier than it once had been, but the ends were jagged and uneven; he'd gone straight from that night to the hospital, without a chance to fix it.
He'd do something about it eventually.
There was a few days worth of stubble on Fritz's jaw. He slanted his gaze down at Regan, and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he said quietly,
"It is." A simple answer.
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 7:13 pm
"I like it." She waited. "Not the pain, your hair." She looked over at it and gave a small smile. "You look less like a perverted romance reader." She said it pretty bluntly, but she truly meant it as very dry humor.
"I see." She moved slowly really, easing out of the hospital bed until bare feet touched the ground. It hurt in ways she couldn't imagine, and the sensors went off with her effort. nothing to alarm the nurses, as they probably thought she was going to the bathroom.
"let me see." She held her own unbroken hand out for his and waited. "Will you be able to draw again?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 1:42 pm
Her smile was reassuring, and Fritz had one of his own to give back to her, even if it was slightly strained and hurt a little beneath the bandages covering part of his cheek. "High praise, coming from you," he said, and gave her a small wink.
And then Regan was climbing out of bed, and Fritz pushed his chair back a little, half rising. "Wait, no, don't - " he protested, but she'd already come around to stand beside him, and he sank back down, looking concerned. He stretched out his casted hand automatically towards Regan, biting his lip.
Her question ached. Fritz turned his head away from her.
"Dunno," he said, trying to make it sound lighthearted, as casual as he could. "If not, I'll have to come up with some other career choice," he added, trying to laugh, but it sounded strained even to his own ears.
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 7:24 pm
His concern was ignored for Regan's complete focus.
"I don't have a lot of good memories with my family. But I remember my mom use to do something when I was younger." She lowered her forehead to his arm cast and waited.
"Pain pain, fly away, don't come back, fly into another day." Then she blew on it and let his arm drop, her face a bit red. "Don't tell anyone I did that." and then she brushed at his hair and hobbled her way back to her bed to sit.
"Not funny." She said seriously. "Unless they are offering positions to hopeless romantics who read erotic novels. you could be an editor."
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 7:58 pm
He stared at her, trying to figure out what she was doing, something twisting in Fritz's stomach. His mouth opened and shut again, rather stupidly, and then a slow, pale flush of red suffused his cheeks, Fritz's eyes wide, focused on Regan's face.
When she let go, his arm hovered awkwardly in the air, as though he wasn't aware of her hands leaving, mouth slightly agape. He lowered it after a minute, slowly relaxing back into the chair, and swallowed hard, ignoring the surge of emotions that was twisting inside of his chest that he could not - did not - want to understand.
"Your secret is safe with me," said Fritz, and offered Regan what he hoped was a normal smile.
It faded, once more, a second later. He eased out a breath and averted his eyes, the fingers of his good hand absently smoothing against the arm of his chair.
"I suppose that's an option," he said with a laugh. "I could be one of those people who reads aloud to people who can't read, or something. I'm sure there's someone who'll appreciate my talents, right?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 8:34 pm
She pulled the covers back over pale legs, as she wasn't overly fond of how skinny they seemed right now, but that was perhaps because she was a skinnier girl anyways.
"Good. I haven't done that since I was like 5. Really one of the few good memories I have of my mother, but since she left around then, I know nothing about her." She patted the blankets down and then made a face.
"Gross." She stared at him, "I'm sure someone who love to hear you flutter their hearts with your romance. Even it's words from those books." She rose a brow, trying to imagine anyone who would listen to such a thing.
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 8:48 am
She rarely - if ever - spoke of her parents, least of all her mother. Fritz watched her carefully, his eyes flickering over Regan's bruised face, her disconnected voice. and wondered how she had gotten here. How long had she lived with this in her life?
How anyone could do something to her in the first place?
It made him irrationally angry. He did not know Regan, not that well, but he knew, at least, a small amount and he wouldn't have had to even know that for him to be furious at whoever it was that could lay their hands against her.
Fritz's fingers curled together against the palm of his hand.
"Oh, come on," he said now, and his tone was deliberately light. "You know you'd love to have me read to you right now. It'll be great, I'll be all dramatic and such, and you can be listening with rapt attention."
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 4:28 pm
She made a face.
Then from her night stand, she pulled a very thick book with a bookmark in it. It wasn't her usual reads, with gold lettering of 'The Little Mermaid' and gestured him closer.
"Would you like to read to me?" She tilted her head, "I'll listen." Mostly because she could remember her mom and Paul reading to her as a child. It was the few happy times when they came together.
It also helped her sleep better, at least she thought so.
"You don't have to, if this isn't up to your dramatic erotic flair." she rose a brow at him, "Or if you're tired yourself."
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 6:04 pm
He had to admit - he was surprised at both the book and the suggestion, Fritz reaching out a hand after only a moment's hesitation to accept the book, sliding it into his lap and glancing at the cover of it, his eyebrows raising.
"You want me to read to you?" he asked and then relaxed a little back into his chair, his expression softening.
"All right," he said, and flipped open to the first page. Fritz cleared his throat, and then began to read.
"It was a dark and stormy night, and Lady Godiva was delighted to be back into the arms of her one true love, Captain Bob - "
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 6:08 pm
She was nestling in now, since he took the book and was flipping to the page.
As her body sunk in, and she relaxed, she was prepared for the first page and for her attention to be caught.
Instead he started off with some lame woman's name and her face instantly scrunched up. She took her pillow and aimed it for his stupid freckled face.
"Get out."
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 6:22 pm
Fritz let out a squawk as the pillow crashed into his face, and he lifted his good hand to grab it, his fingers wrapping around Regan's wrist to keep her from any further damage that she might be attempting to give him.
"No, no, wait," he said, and he was smiling, in spite of himself, "I promise, I'll read it right this time."
He gave her hand a little squeeze. "Okay?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 8:34 pm
There was going to be more damage because Fritz was stupid.
So stupid.
He caught her wrist and stared at it before stopping, and lowering the pillow. She didn't like the touch but also didn't immediately pull away. She knew his intent wasn't to hurt her, but well........
"Fine. One more chance." She pouted at him. "Or else you really have to leave!"
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Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2016 6:59 am
He knew she was averse to his touch, and it was not as though Fritz did not understand. Accepting the physical manifestation of kindness was almost painful to him, though he knew why Regan did not like people close to her - at least, he could guess.
He offered her a small smile.
"I'll behave," said Fritz, and lowered himself back into the seat. For a few seconds his fingers remained on Regan's wrist, and he gave it another gentle squeeze before they slid away and he relaxed back into his chair.
For a moment, however, he didn't start reading just yet. Fritz's fingers ran down the page of the book, his eyes resting on her bruised face.
"Regan," he said quietly, "Is there anything...I can do?"
He was not talking about reading, and she would know it. And he knew, somewhere, that there was nothing really that he could do. Logically, there was little that he could ever hope to accomplish, because Regan's walls were high and her emotions on lockdown.
But it didn't mean he couldn't at least try and ask, anyway, even if that was as far as he got.
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Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2016 9:45 pm
"I'm almost sure you won't though." She rose a brow and watched as his eyes found the bruises on her face. The discoloration wouldn't fade now, and she was sure that if he could see what was under the hospital gown, he'd be horrified.
Even she had been.
"Do?" She cocked her head. Do what? What could he do? What could Chase do? What could anyone do for her that she couldn't do herself already? Short of killing the man, Paul would never leave. He'd always be there, hovering in her life.
'Blood is blood and I go where you go.' Wasn't that what he said? something close to that, it was hard to remember when she had been lying on the cold ground, bleeding out. Anything he could do? She didn't know. She didn't know herself.
The silence dragged on, as she tried to mull over the words. "Read to me." She sat back and folded her hands. "There's nothing else that can be done. It won't go away, but neither will I." She said stubbornly, "Though I probably should..." The thought was a little more quieter.
A little more closer to her real feelings.
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