The Autumn Effect, Chapter 2/4
Title: The Autumn Effect
Chapter Title: 11:00 A.M. (Daydreamer)
Pairing: 13/Cuddy
Rating: Eh... PG (for slightly angsty 13!thoughts)
Legal Biz: Don't own. Never have. Never will.
The Autumn Effect
Chapter 2: 11:00 A.M. (Daydreamer)
Two days passed quickly.
Thirteen packed the few items of clothing that Foreman had been so gracious to bring her into her small duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. She was thankful to finally be able to go home, but at the same time, there was that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That impending sense of dread of going back to the same old thing, falling into the same routine. Cuddy’s words had played over and over in her head for two days, like a scratched record, and she worried herself over the meaning of them.
Not living is just as unhealthy as living too much.
The meaning was obvious, wasn’t it? Thirteen was sure it was, and maybe that’s why it was so difficult for her to wrap her head around. She wasn’t living. Sitting at home on her living room couch, staring at the television for hours on end, not going anywhere, not seeing the world in its entirety, simply seeing work and the mission and the same people day after day, week after week, month after month--that wasn’t living. On the other hand, going out every night, acting like a crazy person, drinking and drugging, sleeping with any girl who would give her the time of day, wasn’t exactly living either. It was a death wish, a suicide mission. It was an overdose, a drunken incident, a DNR waiting to be signed.
That was what Cuddy had meant. She was almost certain.
Her life always seemed to slip away from her. Quite the elusive thing, it was. Just when she thought she was getting things under control again, they slipped away from her, spilled from her fingertips like water spilling over the rim of a cup. Just when she thought she had her whole existence ahead of her, something threatened to take that very existence away from her. It wasn’t fair, but life wasn’t fair, right? Someone had told her that once. Too many times to remember. Too many words spoken in reassurance. Not enough said to truly make her feel grounded, safe.
Thirteen let out a heavy sigh, raked her fingers through her hair. She was letting her thoughts get away from her. She wasn’t in control. Surprise, surprise.
She shifted the bag on her shoulder, glanced down at the watch on her wrist--11:00 A.M.
She had to get going.
Surely, her cat was missing her by now. Surely, her plants needed watering. Surely, the book she had been reading was longing to have its cold spine cracked open again. Surely, the air in her apartment was getting stale without someone there to occupy it, breathe it, need it. Surely, the indention on the middle cushion of her couch had started to fade. And who would be there to settle back into it, if not Thirteen?
Thirteen walked to the door and, with one last quick glance around what had been her hospital room, she closed the door behind her and left.
Chapter Title: 11:00 A.M. (Daydreamer)
Pairing: 13/Cuddy
Rating: Eh... PG (for slightly angsty 13!thoughts)
Legal Biz: Don't own. Never have. Never will.
The Autumn Effect
Chapter 2: 11:00 A.M. (Daydreamer)
Two days passed quickly.
Thirteen packed the few items of clothing that Foreman had been so gracious to bring her into her small duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. She was thankful to finally be able to go home, but at the same time, there was that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That impending sense of dread of going back to the same old thing, falling into the same routine. Cuddy’s words had played over and over in her head for two days, like a scratched record, and she worried herself over the meaning of them.
Not living is just as unhealthy as living too much.
The meaning was obvious, wasn’t it? Thirteen was sure it was, and maybe that’s why it was so difficult for her to wrap her head around. She wasn’t living. Sitting at home on her living room couch, staring at the television for hours on end, not going anywhere, not seeing the world in its entirety, simply seeing work and the mission and the same people day after day, week after week, month after month--that wasn’t living. On the other hand, going out every night, acting like a crazy person, drinking and drugging, sleeping with any girl who would give her the time of day, wasn’t exactly living either. It was a death wish, a suicide mission. It was an overdose, a drunken incident, a DNR waiting to be signed.
That was what Cuddy had meant. She was almost certain.
Her life always seemed to slip away from her. Quite the elusive thing, it was. Just when she thought she was getting things under control again, they slipped away from her, spilled from her fingertips like water spilling over the rim of a cup. Just when she thought she had her whole existence ahead of her, something threatened to take that very existence away from her. It wasn’t fair, but life wasn’t fair, right? Someone had told her that once. Too many times to remember. Too many words spoken in reassurance. Not enough said to truly make her feel grounded, safe.
Thirteen let out a heavy sigh, raked her fingers through her hair. She was letting her thoughts get away from her. She wasn’t in control. Surprise, surprise.
She shifted the bag on her shoulder, glanced down at the watch on her wrist--11:00 A.M.
She had to get going.
Surely, her cat was missing her by now. Surely, her plants needed watering. Surely, the book she had been reading was longing to have its cold spine cracked open again. Surely, the air in her apartment was getting stale without someone there to occupy it, breathe it, need it. Surely, the indention on the middle cushion of her couch had started to fade. And who would be there to settle back into it, if not Thirteen?
Thirteen walked to the door and, with one last quick glance around what had been her hospital room, she closed the door behind her and left.