[trinity general] In which Lizzie is somewhere she doesn't want to be.
[Set in Shelter. Bela is enjoythe_ride and mine to use and abuse, while Michael is feel_theburn and used without permission, but I promise to put him back where I found him. Set after THIS.]
Lizzie’s always hated hospitals.
Ever since she was a kid, she could never sit still in one. There was too much anxiety and worry bleeding through the walls, and it got under her skin in a way that made her feel two inches tall. It was something she never grew out of, no matter how many trips she had to take there, and it didn’t discriminate based on occasion. It was that same, spine chilling feeling whether she was there as a patient, there to interview a witness, or just there to support a loved one, and she hated it. She especially hated the fact that she was nearly thirty years-old, standing in the entryway of the ER and was seriously contemplating backing out and running home to bed where Lucky was. There she could pretend that everything was fine. There, everything was so much simpler. But then her sister’s voice rang in her ears again, and that wasn’t something she wanted to face again. She took a deep breath and the step in the door, and tried not to seem like she was ready to bolt.
By the time she got to her father’s room, she was wound so tightly that she felt like she’d explode if she was so much as poked the wrong way. She did whatever she could to keep her eyes from the body resting in the bed, as much as she could to keep her from identifying him as someone she cared about, because if she did, she’d lose it. Instead, she focused on her mother, hoping that if she had someone else to talk to, she wouldn’t have to deal with what was in front of her. “Mom?”
Bela looked up from her book, before quickly making her way over to her daughter, wrapping her in her arms. “Where have you been?”
Lizzie closed her eyes as she leaned into her mother’s hold, taking the small amount of comfort it provided. “Work. Making sure they get the guy.”
She didn’t respond at first, and Lizzie couldn’t tell if it was out of disappointment or something else. Instead, she just smoothed a hand over her daughter’s back lightly, staying close. “He’s going to be fine, love.”
“I know,” she said softly. The doctors said so, and she couldn’t fathom what would happen if they were wrong. She continued the hug for a moment, until Bela pulled back to look her daughter in the eye.
“Would you like some time with him?” Bela asked, turning back towards the bed, and Lizzie actually looked at her father for the first time. She saw the tubes and wires sticking out of him, the way he was just laying there, and it pushed her farther than she was comfortable. Bela started to pull away from her, and her hand reached out quickly, grabbing on to her shirt to keep her from going any further. Bela sighed heavily, before pulling her in closer, kissing her cheek lightly. “He’s just sleeping. He’s fine, sweetheart. I promise.”
Lizzie nodded, before reluctantly letting go and moving away from her. She waited until she heard the door of the room close behind her mother before sitting down on the chair next to the bed, inching her body closer and slipping her hand in his. His fingers were limp in hers, not even responding enough to wrap around hers and squeeze, and that broke the damn completely. She leaned forward against the bed, resting her forehead against her father’s hand as the tears started to come.
“Wake up. Please, please wake up.”
598 words
Lizzie’s always hated hospitals.
Ever since she was a kid, she could never sit still in one. There was too much anxiety and worry bleeding through the walls, and it got under her skin in a way that made her feel two inches tall. It was something she never grew out of, no matter how many trips she had to take there, and it didn’t discriminate based on occasion. It was that same, spine chilling feeling whether she was there as a patient, there to interview a witness, or just there to support a loved one, and she hated it. She especially hated the fact that she was nearly thirty years-old, standing in the entryway of the ER and was seriously contemplating backing out and running home to bed where Lucky was. There she could pretend that everything was fine. There, everything was so much simpler. But then her sister’s voice rang in her ears again, and that wasn’t something she wanted to face again. She took a deep breath and the step in the door, and tried not to seem like she was ready to bolt.
By the time she got to her father’s room, she was wound so tightly that she felt like she’d explode if she was so much as poked the wrong way. She did whatever she could to keep her eyes from the body resting in the bed, as much as she could to keep her from identifying him as someone she cared about, because if she did, she’d lose it. Instead, she focused on her mother, hoping that if she had someone else to talk to, she wouldn’t have to deal with what was in front of her. “Mom?”
Bela looked up from her book, before quickly making her way over to her daughter, wrapping her in her arms. “Where have you been?”
Lizzie closed her eyes as she leaned into her mother’s hold, taking the small amount of comfort it provided. “Work. Making sure they get the guy.”
She didn’t respond at first, and Lizzie couldn’t tell if it was out of disappointment or something else. Instead, she just smoothed a hand over her daughter’s back lightly, staying close. “He’s going to be fine, love.”
“I know,” she said softly. The doctors said so, and she couldn’t fathom what would happen if they were wrong. She continued the hug for a moment, until Bela pulled back to look her daughter in the eye.
“Would you like some time with him?” Bela asked, turning back towards the bed, and Lizzie actually looked at her father for the first time. She saw the tubes and wires sticking out of him, the way he was just laying there, and it pushed her farther than she was comfortable. Bela started to pull away from her, and her hand reached out quickly, grabbing on to her shirt to keep her from going any further. Bela sighed heavily, before pulling her in closer, kissing her cheek lightly. “He’s just sleeping. He’s fine, sweetheart. I promise.”
Lizzie nodded, before reluctantly letting go and moving away from her. She waited until she heard the door of the room close behind her mother before sitting down on the chair next to the bed, inching her body closer and slipping her hand in his. His fingers were limp in hers, not even responding enough to wrap around hers and squeeze, and that broke the damn completely. She leaned forward against the bed, resting her forehead against her father’s hand as the tears started to come.
“Wake up. Please, please wake up.”
598 words