New Layout makes me happy. And so does finish reading that Gertrude Stein novel.
Title: Show Me How to Live Again
Author: asphyxiate_muse aka. ryukoishida
Fandom: Three Rivers
Spoilers: 1.03
Part: 2/2
Genre: Romance, fluff
Rating: PG-13 (for bad language)
Character(s)/Pairing: Brenda/Scott, Andy Yablonski
Summary: It isn’t love at first sight for them. But their need of a new heart and crave for a new life has bonded them more tightly than they have initially thought. (Timeline: 6 months prior to 1.03)
Word count: 1,655
Disclaimer: CBS owns the show; I own nothing. Title inspired by James Morrison’s “Precious Love”.
A/N: Second and last part of the story. Did anyone read the first part at all? Or was it too boring to hold anyone's interest? I'm just curious.
iv. Are my manners misinterpreted words of only human? … Are you a dove of peace, a black dove undercover, with another puzzle piece? Are you a riddle to solve all along? Or am I over thinking thoughts of human after all? - “Only Human”, Jason Mraz
It was one of those nights when she tried to close her eyes and imagined that the beeping of the machines surrounding her was the stereo in her room playing her favorite tracks, the vile, stinging scent of the sanitizer was the salty smell of bacon and toast breakfast that her mother used to make every morning, the murmuring and rushing figures of doctors, nurses, and other workers in the facility were muted noises from the television that was turned on downstairs late at night, and it didn’t work. She couldn’t fall asleep. So, she did the next best thing she could, given that she was stuck in a hospital: take a walk in the hallways with the mp3 player in her pajama pocket and earplugs stuck in her ears.
Being a long-term patient in Three Rivers, after all, had its advantages. Patients were supposed to go to bed, or at least stayed inside their respective rooms, after certain hours, but since Brenda had been staying here for the last few months, not only had she personalized her temporary room with her own pillows and little knick-knacks on the bedside tables, but she had also had the time to get to know and befriend some of the nurses who worked the night shifts.
As she stepped out into the darkened hallway gingerly, she gave a timid nod and smile to the night attendant sitting across at a counter with a pile of paperwork - Meredith? She tried to match the friendly face with a name.
“Can’t sleep again, Brenda?” The nurse noted the portable music player in her hand. If the nurses were beginning to notice a pattern here, she had to assume that this whole thing with insomnia was starting to get out of hand. She nodded again.
“All right. Don’t walk too far off, though,” she reminded the young patient.
“I won’t,” she promised genuinely, and with the IV stand in one hand, and her music player in the other, she began her little night walk, hoping the exercise would give her an easier sleep later on.
Just as she was scrolling down her list of tracks, attempting to choose between Coldplay and Dashboard Confessional and not paying the slightest attention, since she didn’t expect anyone to be still out at this hour, she crashed into something quite solid and warm at the same time. Upon the surprised contact, the other person muttered curses under his breath while Brenda tried to first steady her footing (the stranger she ran into was a bit taller and so the force was stronger than she had anticipated) before apologizing profusely.
When she couldn’t detect any response from the stranger, she finally looked up and a pair of sharp, cold eyes faintly hidden behind some stray locks of brown hair glared back at her. She instinctively took a tiny step back. From an outsider, the boy’s face seemed to display nothing too apprehensive, but Brenda could perceive an underlying sense of menace from his dark (almost depthless black) eyes. There weren’t that many patients in her age category on the cardiology floor to start with, and she immediately recognized that brooding body posture and the sinister yet handsome face as the young man who was brought in yesterday.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, her tone that much lower. In a short second - she thought she had imagined it - one corner of the boy’s lips curled upwards; he was smirking. He thought she was scared of him. When that ghost of a smirk vanished again, and he neither spoke nor moved, it felt like someone should break the silence. Since it didn’t look like the boy was going to do so, Brenda decided to trudge on with a false bravado she really couldn’t feel.
“I’m Brenda.” She held out her hand, smiling hesitantly. The nameless boy was as expressionless as ever, but his eyes were shining delicately with… Curiosity? Interest? Enjoyment of her embarrassment? It was so difficult to read him, Brenda realized, and this fact was upsetting her already straining nerves.
“You’re Scott, I presume,” she said, faltering a little and relaxed her outstretched arm back to her side awkwardly. “I saw you getting admitted into the hospital after they got you out of the ER. Your room is next to mine,” she explained.
“Is that so?” She was pretty sure it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but she nodded out of pure politeness nevertheless. A lazy, amused smile grazed his full lips, and it didn’t make her feel any more reassured; if truth be told, she was even more intimidated now that he was showing signs of pleasure at her expense.
“Dr. Yablonski told me you’re also waiting for a heart transplant, so I guess we’re on the same boat, huh?” she rambled on when Scott kept his silence, and Brenda knew she should just shut her mouth and marched herself back to the room. But she remembered - too late now - her tendency to talk a mile a minute when she was edgy, and currently, she was definitely tense as a mouse was before the eyes of a prowling cat.
“Did the good doctor also inform you that the reason is because I’ve snorted too much cocaine and that has triggered a heart attack?” The taller boy never raised the volume of his dry, deep voice, but the cold tone he used was enough to make her automatically take another step backward. His stiff stance and overall presence suddenly became too much - overwhelming with a red, glowing halo of threat, and Brenda didn’t know if she should run while she still could, or stay put as to not set off any further reactions.
“No,” she replied in a whisper.
“Scared?” He appeared to be delighted by the mere thought of it, if his growing grin was any indication - that she was on the edge of running away - and he took one step forward to close the distance between them again. “I thought girls like you dig the bad-boy type?” He was approximately half a head taller than she was; he looked down at her and was surprised when the girl stared back just as intently despite her appearance of a frail young thing, as if she was trying to see through the barrier of his eyes, and see into him. Scott wouldn’t allow that.
Brenda had no idea what the hell she was doing - provoking a stranger like that. Was she crazy? Was she trying to get herself hurt? Or maybe she just wanted to get to know this boy a little better? Staying in a hospital when all she saw were sickly people all the time was not doing a thing for her psychologically, and even though her friends and family came and visit her every so often, there were times when she wished she could just talk to someone her own age with the same problem, the same fears and concerns.
“No,” she said again.
“No, you’re not scared; or no, you’re not into the bad-boy type?”
“Kids, is there a problem?” The nurse who had greeted Brenda just a few minutes before stepped out of her cubicle and was walking towards them, her face stern though a professional polite smile was still stiffly in place. The blond-haired teenager couldn’t help but give a small sigh of relief - she didn’t know what to say in reply to Scott’s question and she had started to panic. Her gaze strayed unwillingly back to the brooding young man, and she knew that he had noticed the obvious calming effect of the presence of another adult. She saw the familiar twitch of the corner of his lips that was threatening to break into a full-blown smirk, and she shivered, looking down at her slippers.
“No, ma’am,” Scott shot the nurse an innocent, light-hearted grin. “I’m just getting acquainted with Brenda here. She’s my neighbor, apparently.” He turned slightly to give Brenda a friendly smile that didn’t really reach his black eyes. The night shift worker looked at Brenda for confirmation, and she nodded automatically.
“Well, you two better run along now. It’s getting late and you should be resting in your beds.” She didn’t give the youngsters any room to argue, so the girl and the boy walked side by side, following the nurse’s lead.
They reached Scott’s room first.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Brenda.” Before she could react properly to what he was about to do, he held out his hand (Brenda glanced sideways and noticed the nurse - Marla, her silver name tag informed her - raised her eyebrow, apparently just as surprised by the gesture as Brenda was). She shifted her gaze to Scott’s face; his lips was holding onto a tiny, polite smile, but she could also see that he was struggling to uphold that small expression while trying to be casual about it. She didn’t know what to think of that, though at the same time, she didn’t think she would want to find out either.
Brenda placed her smaller hand - the one that wasn’t connected to the IV - into his and she truly looked at him, her clear, thoughtful hazel irises meeting his hard, opaque brown ones.
“Likewise,” she said softly.
She wanted to know him, Brenda decided as she felt the slight pressure of his hand on hers. His skin was pale, fingers slim and powerful like a pianist’s, and it was hot and dry. She wanted to know him, wanted to understand his motivations that drove him into his strange actions (because she believed that nobody would act like he did and not have good reasons to do so). She wanted to understand the emotions behind the cold face, wanted to dig beneath that false mask and find the pieces.
Scott slid the door behind him with a loud click, and everything fell into silence for her again.
-
More A/N: I had wanted to include the episode in which Scott got busted for almost getting his hands on weed by Andy, but I think I’m done with this pairing for awhile. Who knows, maybe if I get more inspiration, or more comments (hint hint nudge nudge), I’ll go ahead with the idea. But for now, I’m done.