just_muse_me | 20.3.4. Safe and sound
20.3.4. Safe and sound
[Follows THIS | Simultaneous to THIS and THIS]
When Mark got to James' hospital room and saw his brother, his legs nearly gave way and he had to grab at the edge of the door to remain upright. "Jamie," he choked out as tears of relief and lingering shock started to fall. He managed to get to the bed without falling and caught James' face in his hands, fingers brushing over his brother's jaw to feel that he was there and he was alive. "Oh god, you're okay... you're really okay..." Mark sobbed and pulled his little brother into a hug, not caring about the tubes or the machines.
James hadn't been able to formulate an expectation how he might react at this moment. He had spent the last forty eight hours since Pierce told him he had been in touch with his family feeling like his stomach had a cold viced grip around it. He could barely swallow, let alone eat. But there really only was going to be one way he could process this in the first instance - by bursting into tears himself. He hadn't thought he would ever see his family again. He had resigned himself to the fact and iced over the deep, aching pain that came with it. When Ali spoke to him about seeing them again, he knew it was really going to happen. It didn't make it any easier, though. Nothing could have prepared him for it. He clutched at the back of Mark's shirt, sobbing into his shoulder like he would never let go. He knew Mark could be an arsehole and had made some fucking awful decisions in his life, but he was, and always would be, James' big brother. He was the guy who gave James his first beer (and first hangover) and taught him how to climb a tree. He was there to give him a cuddle when he fell off his bike for the first time. He pulled the piss after James' first kiss, and bought him his first pack of condoms.
The guilt raced through James to the point of almost causing him to vomit. Why did he do it? Why did he hurt his family so much? "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely against Mark's shoulder, nails almost sinking into his brother's sink from the force of the grip. He didn't want to let go.
Mark pulled back, once again cupping James' face in his hands. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, shaking his head. "No, Jamie. Don't. Don't do it, buddy. It's okay. We're going to be okay," he assured him, his voice barely audible as it was strangled with emotion. "You're here, you're alive. That's all that matters." His tremoring fingers brushed his brother's hair down as an anxious need to just do something to make sure he was okay. He had to swallow heavily to stop himself throwing up and he kissed James' forehead, making no attempt to wipe his own tears away. "Fuck," he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against James' as he once again tried to convince himself his little brother was really okay, but it was overwhelming and he could hardly form a string of thoughts.
Another sob caught in James' throat and more tears spilled over. Maybe he really was turning into Ali. "Mum and Dad, they--" They weren't here. They didn't want to come. They hated him. They didn't want to see him. They didn't care. The list went on, each option sending a sharper bolt of panic through him.
"They're on their way," Mark promised, still stroking James' cheek. "We couldn't all get on the same flight at such short notice. We tried, but they had to stopover via Paris. They had one seat vacant on an LA stopover. Mum was going to come, but she needs Dad. It's just... we're all still in shock, buddy. But you're okay. You're safe now." It was like he had to keep repeating it to believe it.
"Is Mum--" James was struggling with his sentences too. He could hear the heart monitor beeping faster than it should be and they were probably going to dose him with Valium when this was over. It was like he had so much to say, but nothing could quite make it to his lips through the whirlwind jumble of thoughts.
Mark sat down on the side of the bed and gripped James' hand between both of his. "Mum, she..." He distractedly brushed at some of the dampness on his cheek. "She had a heart attack after you... after we... it was just too much. But she's okay now. She's better and the doctor just told her to take it easy on all the coffee in the morning," he said with a small tearful laugh. "She just really wants to see you. She'll be okay if she can touch you and know for herself you're okay."
James just stared at Mark's face, eyes wide as he tried to absorb the news and more tears slipped slowly down his cheeks. What the hell had he done? He tried once again to talk, but it felt like someone had him by the throat and he rested his head back against the pillow, eyes turning up to the ceiling. It had to be okay now, but it was going to take some time to accept what he had done to everyone.
"You look like shit, Jamie," Mark finally told him, just like old days. "What have you been doing to yourself? I didn't realise amnesia meant you forgot how to look after yourself." He adjusted the blankets over James' legs, unable to shake the anxious need to just do something.
James weakly flipped him off with a faint smirk. "What are you gonna do about it? Shave my eyebrow off?" he asked hoarsely, looking back to his brother tiredly.
Mark smirked back. "Well, there's a start. I was thinking more of writing 'Wanker' across your forehead in your sleep with permanent marker and giving you an uno-brow." He rubbed the back of James' hand and then glanced out to the hall behind him, clearing his throat.
"She's not going to come," James murmured quietly after a few moments of watching his brother. "She's not here."
Mark looked back to James guiltily and then averted his gaze to the edge of the bed. "Pierce said Izzy and... I just thought..."
"She's on vacation out of the country. She needed a break," James said, and let out a slow drained breath. "Izzy might come, probably will. Ali won't. At least, not yet."
Mark closed his eyes briefly, hunching forward and rubbing a hand over his face. "Does she hate me?" he asked roughly. "She should."
James nodded slightly in agreement. "I don't think she's far off it," he admitted.
"The baby--" Mark began.
"She's beautiful," James cut in abruptly. "Ali's an amazing mother. You've destroyed anything you could've had there."
Mark's features fell into a pained frown and he put a shaky hand over his eyes. "I miss her. I miss her so much it aches. I just... I didn't..." He shook his head.
"You're too late," James had to tell him tearfully, even though he had no idea what was happening between Ali and Andrew in Australia right at that very moment. "Someone else has given her everything you wouldn't when you were punishing her. Everything she deserves. You're just... far too late, Mark. It's done."
Mark looked up at him. "What are you trying to say?" he whispered hoarsely.
"I'm saying you let you her go. You let them both go."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe. Mark is an NPC, so all mine.
Word Count | 1,270
[Follows THIS | Simultaneous to THIS and THIS]
When Mark got to James' hospital room and saw his brother, his legs nearly gave way and he had to grab at the edge of the door to remain upright. "Jamie," he choked out as tears of relief and lingering shock started to fall. He managed to get to the bed without falling and caught James' face in his hands, fingers brushing over his brother's jaw to feel that he was there and he was alive. "Oh god, you're okay... you're really okay..." Mark sobbed and pulled his little brother into a hug, not caring about the tubes or the machines.
James hadn't been able to formulate an expectation how he might react at this moment. He had spent the last forty eight hours since Pierce told him he had been in touch with his family feeling like his stomach had a cold viced grip around it. He could barely swallow, let alone eat. But there really only was going to be one way he could process this in the first instance - by bursting into tears himself. He hadn't thought he would ever see his family again. He had resigned himself to the fact and iced over the deep, aching pain that came with it. When Ali spoke to him about seeing them again, he knew it was really going to happen. It didn't make it any easier, though. Nothing could have prepared him for it. He clutched at the back of Mark's shirt, sobbing into his shoulder like he would never let go. He knew Mark could be an arsehole and had made some fucking awful decisions in his life, but he was, and always would be, James' big brother. He was the guy who gave James his first beer (and first hangover) and taught him how to climb a tree. He was there to give him a cuddle when he fell off his bike for the first time. He pulled the piss after James' first kiss, and bought him his first pack of condoms.
The guilt raced through James to the point of almost causing him to vomit. Why did he do it? Why did he hurt his family so much? "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely against Mark's shoulder, nails almost sinking into his brother's sink from the force of the grip. He didn't want to let go.
Mark pulled back, once again cupping James' face in his hands. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, shaking his head. "No, Jamie. Don't. Don't do it, buddy. It's okay. We're going to be okay," he assured him, his voice barely audible as it was strangled with emotion. "You're here, you're alive. That's all that matters." His tremoring fingers brushed his brother's hair down as an anxious need to just do something to make sure he was okay. He had to swallow heavily to stop himself throwing up and he kissed James' forehead, making no attempt to wipe his own tears away. "Fuck," he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against James' as he once again tried to convince himself his little brother was really okay, but it was overwhelming and he could hardly form a string of thoughts.
Another sob caught in James' throat and more tears spilled over. Maybe he really was turning into Ali. "Mum and Dad, they--" They weren't here. They didn't want to come. They hated him. They didn't want to see him. They didn't care. The list went on, each option sending a sharper bolt of panic through him.
"They're on their way," Mark promised, still stroking James' cheek. "We couldn't all get on the same flight at such short notice. We tried, but they had to stopover via Paris. They had one seat vacant on an LA stopover. Mum was going to come, but she needs Dad. It's just... we're all still in shock, buddy. But you're okay. You're safe now." It was like he had to keep repeating it to believe it.
"Is Mum--" James was struggling with his sentences too. He could hear the heart monitor beeping faster than it should be and they were probably going to dose him with Valium when this was over. It was like he had so much to say, but nothing could quite make it to his lips through the whirlwind jumble of thoughts.
Mark sat down on the side of the bed and gripped James' hand between both of his. "Mum, she..." He distractedly brushed at some of the dampness on his cheek. "She had a heart attack after you... after we... it was just too much. But she's okay now. She's better and the doctor just told her to take it easy on all the coffee in the morning," he said with a small tearful laugh. "She just really wants to see you. She'll be okay if she can touch you and know for herself you're okay."
James just stared at Mark's face, eyes wide as he tried to absorb the news and more tears slipped slowly down his cheeks. What the hell had he done? He tried once again to talk, but it felt like someone had him by the throat and he rested his head back against the pillow, eyes turning up to the ceiling. It had to be okay now, but it was going to take some time to accept what he had done to everyone.
"You look like shit, Jamie," Mark finally told him, just like old days. "What have you been doing to yourself? I didn't realise amnesia meant you forgot how to look after yourself." He adjusted the blankets over James' legs, unable to shake the anxious need to just do something.
James weakly flipped him off with a faint smirk. "What are you gonna do about it? Shave my eyebrow off?" he asked hoarsely, looking back to his brother tiredly.
Mark smirked back. "Well, there's a start. I was thinking more of writing 'Wanker' across your forehead in your sleep with permanent marker and giving you an uno-brow." He rubbed the back of James' hand and then glanced out to the hall behind him, clearing his throat.
"She's not going to come," James murmured quietly after a few moments of watching his brother. "She's not here."
Mark looked back to James guiltily and then averted his gaze to the edge of the bed. "Pierce said Izzy and... I just thought..."
"She's on vacation out of the country. She needed a break," James said, and let out a slow drained breath. "Izzy might come, probably will. Ali won't. At least, not yet."
Mark closed his eyes briefly, hunching forward and rubbing a hand over his face. "Does she hate me?" he asked roughly. "She should."
James nodded slightly in agreement. "I don't think she's far off it," he admitted.
"The baby--" Mark began.
"She's beautiful," James cut in abruptly. "Ali's an amazing mother. You've destroyed anything you could've had there."
Mark's features fell into a pained frown and he put a shaky hand over his eyes. "I miss her. I miss her so much it aches. I just... I didn't..." He shook his head.
"You're too late," James had to tell him tearfully, even though he had no idea what was happening between Ali and Andrew in Australia right at that very moment. "Someone else has given her everything you wouldn't when you were punishing her. Everything she deserves. You're just... far too late, Mark. It's done."
Mark looked up at him. "What are you trying to say?" he whispered hoarsely.
"I'm saying you let you her go. You let them both go."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe. Mark is an NPC, so all mine.
Word Count | 1,270