For on_thecouch -- 6.2 How self sufficient are you?
Six months ago...
“You look like shit, London.”
Tab wiped the cold sweat from her brow and tried to pull her red hair back into a ponytail. It was getting to be past her shoulders now, and she wanted nothing more than to just cut it off. “Hello to you too, Walker.”
He ignored the sarcasm and placed his guitar down before moving over to press his hand against her forehead and cheeks. “I’m serious. You look like shit, and you even feel like it. What the fuck are you doing here?”
She batted his hand away and huffed out a breath as she swayed slightly on her feet. “I’m the singer. Can’t have a show without me.”
Chris rolled his eyes and picked up the petite rocker and held her in his arms. “Fuck the show, London. You’re sick.”
She shook her head and kicked as she tried to get her feet back on the ground. “No, I’m not! I’m fine, just a little warm.”
“You’re fucking burning up.” He grunted and shifted his hold so she was over his shoulder. He smacked her arse and swore loudly as she punched his back. “Hey! If you don’t behave I’ll just find a fucking sack and stick you in that. You’re sick, so I’ll take you home.”
“I’m not sick!” she cried, but stilled at the threat of being put in a sack. He would really do it, she was certain. “Just put me the fuck down, I’m fine.”
He didn’t listen, and moved through the club to get out the backdoor to his car. When he had her strapped in, and had endured a few more slaps and punches, he slid behind the wheel and turned to look at her. “What’s so wrong with being sick? It’s a natural thing, shorty.”
She frowned and had her arms folded across her chest. “I hate being fucking sick. I hate being dependent on anyone. And I hate Riley being in fucking Scotland because he’s the only one that can look after me.”
Walker cleared his throat and glared at her before turning the key in the ignition and shooting out of the alley and onto the street. “Bull-fucking-shit. He’s not the only one that can take care of you.”
“Yes he is!” she persisted. She broke out into a coughing fit, and the sneeze it ended with was punctuated by the f-word. “Being sick makes me all vulnerable and I don’t want anyone but Riley seeing that.”
Walker sped through the streets, only just managing to break when there was a red light. The only benefit to them playing gigs so late was that the streets were always near empty. He tapped his thumb against the wheel and snorted. “It’s too late for that, London. I know what you’re really like. I’ve seen every damn side of you, so I think I’ve earned this.”
“You’ve earned me snotting all over you?”
“No, I’ve earned being trusted to take care of you when you fucking need someone to do it because you’re too fucking stubborn.”
“I’m independent. There’s a difference.”
“You’re stubborn. The dependence on your brother kind of says otherwise about you being independent.”
“Fuck you.”
“You gave that right up six months ago, so you can just fuck yourself.”
Tab fell silent, and pouted the whole way back to her place. She felt like shit, it was true. She knew she was sick, but she knew she didn’t want to be in this position with anyone. She wasn’t built to let people take care of her. No one except her brother. She flinched as Walker tried to help her out of the car and pushed him back so she could get her own damn self out. Of course she couldn’t manage that and always went crashing on her arse, but he’d caught her and gently lifted her into his arms again.
“I hate you,” she murmured against his ear as she hooked her arms around his neck.
He smirked, and pushed his way into her building and kept hold of her as they waited for the elevator. She weighed nothing, so it wasn’t like it was hard on him. “No, you don’t.”
Tabitha London Browne
Original Character
Words: 699
rckrbybaby and pullmysteth used with mun permission. Written for Walker-mun who wanted to see sick!Tab.
“You look like shit, London.”
Tab wiped the cold sweat from her brow and tried to pull her red hair back into a ponytail. It was getting to be past her shoulders now, and she wanted nothing more than to just cut it off. “Hello to you too, Walker.”
He ignored the sarcasm and placed his guitar down before moving over to press his hand against her forehead and cheeks. “I’m serious. You look like shit, and you even feel like it. What the fuck are you doing here?”
She batted his hand away and huffed out a breath as she swayed slightly on her feet. “I’m the singer. Can’t have a show without me.”
Chris rolled his eyes and picked up the petite rocker and held her in his arms. “Fuck the show, London. You’re sick.”
She shook her head and kicked as she tried to get her feet back on the ground. “No, I’m not! I’m fine, just a little warm.”
“You’re fucking burning up.” He grunted and shifted his hold so she was over his shoulder. He smacked her arse and swore loudly as she punched his back. “Hey! If you don’t behave I’ll just find a fucking sack and stick you in that. You’re sick, so I’ll take you home.”
“I’m not sick!” she cried, but stilled at the threat of being put in a sack. He would really do it, she was certain. “Just put me the fuck down, I’m fine.”
He didn’t listen, and moved through the club to get out the backdoor to his car. When he had her strapped in, and had endured a few more slaps and punches, he slid behind the wheel and turned to look at her. “What’s so wrong with being sick? It’s a natural thing, shorty.”
She frowned and had her arms folded across her chest. “I hate being fucking sick. I hate being dependent on anyone. And I hate Riley being in fucking Scotland because he’s the only one that can look after me.”
Walker cleared his throat and glared at her before turning the key in the ignition and shooting out of the alley and onto the street. “Bull-fucking-shit. He’s not the only one that can take care of you.”
“Yes he is!” she persisted. She broke out into a coughing fit, and the sneeze it ended with was punctuated by the f-word. “Being sick makes me all vulnerable and I don’t want anyone but Riley seeing that.”
Walker sped through the streets, only just managing to break when there was a red light. The only benefit to them playing gigs so late was that the streets were always near empty. He tapped his thumb against the wheel and snorted. “It’s too late for that, London. I know what you’re really like. I’ve seen every damn side of you, so I think I’ve earned this.”
“You’ve earned me snotting all over you?”
“No, I’ve earned being trusted to take care of you when you fucking need someone to do it because you’re too fucking stubborn.”
“I’m independent. There’s a difference.”
“You’re stubborn. The dependence on your brother kind of says otherwise about you being independent.”
“Fuck you.”
“You gave that right up six months ago, so you can just fuck yourself.”
Tab fell silent, and pouted the whole way back to her place. She felt like shit, it was true. She knew she was sick, but she knew she didn’t want to be in this position with anyone. She wasn’t built to let people take care of her. No one except her brother. She flinched as Walker tried to help her out of the car and pushed him back so she could get her own damn self out. Of course she couldn’t manage that and always went crashing on her arse, but he’d caught her and gently lifted her into his arms again.
“I hate you,” she murmured against his ear as she hooked her arms around his neck.
He smirked, and pushed his way into her building and kept hold of her as they waited for the elevator. She weighed nothing, so it wasn’t like it was hard on him. “No, you don’t.”
Tabitha London Browne
Original Character
Words: 699
rckrbybaby and pullmysteth used with mun permission. Written for Walker-mun who wanted to see sick!Tab.