Fic: Feel So Tired (But You Can't Sleep)
Title: Feel So Tired (But You Can't Sleep)
Pairing/Character(s): Mercedes, Cooper
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: This fic takes place directly after "Shooting Star," but doesn't go into too much detail.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Summary: Two days after the gun goes off, Mercedes and Cooper head home to Lima.
Author's Notes: Title comes from "Fix You" by Coldplay. I apologize if there are any inaccuracies in describing airport security procedures, but I honestly haven't been on a plane since before 9/11, and it was a lot easier then. This is somewhat fragmentary, but I don't know if I have a more traditional story in me after this episode (and, honestly, after this week), so.
She's pissed off for a split second when she sees him heading through the security line at LAX, with his sunglasses still on like he's Mr. Hollywood, his stylishly rumpled clothes and messy hair and the three-day growth of stubble. Just for a second, and then he takes the sunglasses off to go through the metal detectors, and she realizes that he's not trying to look like he hasn't slept for two days. He just hasn't slept. The bags under his eyes are big enough she's surprised he's allowed to even bring them as carry-ons, and he wobbles dangerously when he has to slip off his shoes for the security guards. He doesn't look awful -- she doubts Dreamboat Cooper Anderson ever looked truly awful a day in his life -- but he looks damn tired.
Of course, Mercedes is plenty tired, too.
It's been a long two days for both of them.
She watches Cooper collect his things and shuffle over to the hard plastic seats; he's headed straight in her direction but it's obvious he doesn't see her. So she gives him a hand -- she stands up and reaches out and catches his elbow, steering him towards the seat next to hers. He blinks at her, blue eyes bloodshot and unfocused, and lets her get him settled, taking the sunglasses and phone and watch and wallet from his hands, leaving him with just the satchel over his shoulder and the shoes tucked under his arm (he can take care of those himself; she feels sorry for him, but not that sorry). "I know you," he mumbles, a little vaguely, and then it seems to clear. "Oh! Hi!" His smile is about a tenth of its usual wattage, but she appreciates the effort anyway. "Mercedes, right? From the -- From Blaine's --"
His smile falters momentarily, and she plasters on a smile of her own, hoping it looks vaguely sympathetic. "Yeah," she says. "Guess we're both heading to the same place, then."
Cooper swallows and stares down at his feet. His shoes are still under his arm. His socks don't match, and the toes are wearing a little thin. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I -- I guess we are."
"Well, then you better get your shoes on," she says, nudging him with her shoulder since her hands are still full of his things. "Because I am not sitting next to that weird guy on the plane with bare feet."
"I --" He fumbles his shoes out from underneath his armpit (God, Mercedes hopes he's been awake enough to apply deodorant in the last 24 hours, or she is seriously going to regret her decision to keep an eye on him) and drops them on the floor next to his feet. "Are we sitting next to each other?"
She doesn't even bother looking at either of their boarding passes. "We are now," she tells him.
*
Mercedes barely even has to say anything at all to get the nice older lady who was supposed to sit next to Cooper to switch seats with her; all she really has to do is keep Cooper's sunglasses hidden in her purse (she's pretty sure he hasn't even noticed they're gone yet), and drop a few words like "younger brother" and "shooting" and "he made it out okay, but --" and the woman is scrambling to get her carry-on out of the overhead compartment, barely slowing down enough to shake her head and mutter about the NRA with their guns everywhere and she doesn't know what this world is coming to but she remembers when schools used to be safe. And then she's patting Mercedes on the shoulder and moving up the aisle to her new seat next to some kid with spiky hair and headphones that are bigger than his actual head, and Mercedes is ushering Cooper into the seats, watching him fold himself up to fit. He keeps his satchel on his lap; it looks a lot like Blaine's, only in black. Mercedes wonders if that's the only luggage he has. She kinds of gets the impression that it is.
She gets her own suitcase stowed and then squeezes into the seat next to him, praying silently that whoever's on the aisle is both short and skinny, or this trip is going to be murder.
"I'm really tired of this," Cooper says, quietly.
Mercedes doesn't totally know what he's talking about, but she thinks she has an idea. She pretends she doesn't, though, just pats his wrist (his arm on the armrest; some gentleman he is), and says, "Better get used to it. These seats aren't getting any bigger."
He doesn't even acknowledge the comment; she's not sure he's even really heard her. "I know, it's... selfish. I mean, yeah, it's hard every time, and it's scary and I -- But Blaine -- I just... I don't understand why this has to keep happening to him. And I'm just... I'm just tired."
She can't pretend she doesn't understand him, now. She can't pretend she knows what to say, either, so she doesn't try. She just rests her hand on his wrist, her arm laid over his on the armrest, and she guesses this is as close to sharing as he can get right now.
"At least he's not in the hospital, this time," Cooper murmurs, and Mercedes slides her hand away from his wrist, lets her fingers slip between his, and breathes.
*
She's drifting a little bit, her arm maybe slipping a little off the armrest and her hand maybe brushing against Cooper's black jeans, her head maybe tipping a little into Cooper's shoulder, and there is maybe a little voice buried deep inside her heavy head giggling about the fact that she's sleeping with an actor on an airplane even though that's not exactly what's happening and she wouldn't want that to happen because she's not that kind of -- but the thought is still there, I am sleeping with Cooper Anderson --
And then he says, "He used to get these nightmares," and Mercedes realizes that Cooper Anderson isn't sleeping with anyone at all.
And, of course, she isn't either, not anymore. But she keeps her head on his shoulder, even as her hand slides back onto the armrest, holds on to his.
"I guess it wasn't -- Sleep terrors is what the doctor called it. Which kind of sounds like the villain from a kid's movie or something, but. Anyway. But I don't... I don't know if he was dreaming or not; he couldn't ever tell us what he -- But I remember waking up and hearing him just... Yelling and crying, and... Mom and Dad would be with him and they'd be trying to calm him down and his eyes would be open but he just... he wasn't there. Wherever he was, he was still there. He wasn't with us. He was there. And then he'd wake up, and he'd be so confused, and he didn't know why he'd been so scared but he had been, and... The doctor said he'd grow out of it, but we should try to get him to go to bed earlier, because I guess part of what makes kids have those kinds of dreams is not sleeping, which I thought was pretty weird, but Mom and Dad started trying to put him to bed earlier. Except he couldn't sleep; he was too scared to sleep. So I just..." Cooper shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling under Mercedes' cheek. "I'd go in and sit with him and read with him and he'd fall asleep. And sometimes he'd stay asleep and sometimes he'd wake up, screaming, and... Then one night I fell asleep before he did, and he didn't wake up that night. And then I did it again, and he didn't wake up that night, either. So I just... kept doing it. For a year. Well. Year and a half. Once he got into kindergarten, you know, he was a big kid. Didn't need me anymore."
"Speaking as someone with a big brother?" Mercedes pats at his hand. "He still needs you. He'll always need you."
"Yeah," Cooper says. "Yeah, I know."
They're quiet for a while, but Mercedes knows she's not falling asleep and this time, she knows Cooper isn't either.
"He hasn't slept since it happened," Cooper says, quietly. "Mom and Dad have been staying up with him. Talking. Which is good. I mean, they need to talk. About a lot of things. I just..."
Mercedes lifts her head off his shoulder and shifts back into her own seat.
Cooper blinks at her for a second; even up close, he still looks about as gorgeous as a man can without sleeping for two days. "Sorry," he says, and attempts to smile again. "Sorry, I'm babbling, I --
And Mercedes sighs, and lifts her arm off his, and wraps it around Cooper's shoulder, and pulls his head down until it's on her shoulder. "You don't have to sleep," she says. "But you could stand to rest those baby blues of yours a little bit."
"Oh," Cooper says. "Oh. Okay."
He sounds like Blaine when he says "Okay."
It makes Mercedes feel like she's actually doing something for the first time in three days. She doesn't waste time thinking about why.
*
He does sleep, in the end. Not very much, and not very deeply, just little moments of stillness between his quiet commentary on her ongoing Words With Friends war with Quinn, but all in all, he probably gets about twenty minutes of sleep, which is twenty minutes more sleep than he's gotten since Thursday, so that's something.
It's not enough that she actually lets him get anywhere near the car rental places, let alone behind the wheel -- her parents' sedan has more than enough room for one extra passenger carrying nothing more but a black leather satchel -- but it's still good to know that she's managed to help in some small way.
*
(She doesn't get a lot of sleep the next few days -- she and Tina stay up all night Saturday watching Boy Meets World, and then Sunday she stays with Kurt and they've got a few things to talk about, and then Monday everyone starts packing up to head home again and no one's ready to leave and after the stragglers get kicked out of BreadstiX right around midnight on Monday, she winds up sitting outside the school with Mike and Puck and Santana, of all people, and they don't really talk that much, but it's good just to have them around for a little while, before they split up again. But she doesn't even get home until after three a.m., and then she's got an early flight, and although she's got better ways of hiding her dark circles than just throwing on a pair of shades, she knows she's not looking her best when she gets to the airport Tuesday morning. But Cooper tells her she looks gorgeous anyway, and flirts with her seatmate -- a fifty year-old banker who looks stunned, confused, and flattered by turns -- until the man switches seats with him. They settle in together, side-by-side.
(This time, Cooper lets Mercedes take the armrest, and when her head settles on his shoulder, he doesn't say anything, just lets her sleep.)
Pairing/Character(s): Mercedes, Cooper
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: This fic takes place directly after "Shooting Star," but doesn't go into too much detail.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Summary: Two days after the gun goes off, Mercedes and Cooper head home to Lima.
Author's Notes: Title comes from "Fix You" by Coldplay. I apologize if there are any inaccuracies in describing airport security procedures, but I honestly haven't been on a plane since before 9/11, and it was a lot easier then. This is somewhat fragmentary, but I don't know if I have a more traditional story in me after this episode (and, honestly, after this week), so.
She's pissed off for a split second when she sees him heading through the security line at LAX, with his sunglasses still on like he's Mr. Hollywood, his stylishly rumpled clothes and messy hair and the three-day growth of stubble. Just for a second, and then he takes the sunglasses off to go through the metal detectors, and she realizes that he's not trying to look like he hasn't slept for two days. He just hasn't slept. The bags under his eyes are big enough she's surprised he's allowed to even bring them as carry-ons, and he wobbles dangerously when he has to slip off his shoes for the security guards. He doesn't look awful -- she doubts Dreamboat Cooper Anderson ever looked truly awful a day in his life -- but he looks damn tired.
Of course, Mercedes is plenty tired, too.
It's been a long two days for both of them.
She watches Cooper collect his things and shuffle over to the hard plastic seats; he's headed straight in her direction but it's obvious he doesn't see her. So she gives him a hand -- she stands up and reaches out and catches his elbow, steering him towards the seat next to hers. He blinks at her, blue eyes bloodshot and unfocused, and lets her get him settled, taking the sunglasses and phone and watch and wallet from his hands, leaving him with just the satchel over his shoulder and the shoes tucked under his arm (he can take care of those himself; she feels sorry for him, but not that sorry). "I know you," he mumbles, a little vaguely, and then it seems to clear. "Oh! Hi!" His smile is about a tenth of its usual wattage, but she appreciates the effort anyway. "Mercedes, right? From the -- From Blaine's --"
His smile falters momentarily, and she plasters on a smile of her own, hoping it looks vaguely sympathetic. "Yeah," she says. "Guess we're both heading to the same place, then."
Cooper swallows and stares down at his feet. His shoes are still under his arm. His socks don't match, and the toes are wearing a little thin. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I -- I guess we are."
"Well, then you better get your shoes on," she says, nudging him with her shoulder since her hands are still full of his things. "Because I am not sitting next to that weird guy on the plane with bare feet."
"I --" He fumbles his shoes out from underneath his armpit (God, Mercedes hopes he's been awake enough to apply deodorant in the last 24 hours, or she is seriously going to regret her decision to keep an eye on him) and drops them on the floor next to his feet. "Are we sitting next to each other?"
She doesn't even bother looking at either of their boarding passes. "We are now," she tells him.
*
Mercedes barely even has to say anything at all to get the nice older lady who was supposed to sit next to Cooper to switch seats with her; all she really has to do is keep Cooper's sunglasses hidden in her purse (she's pretty sure he hasn't even noticed they're gone yet), and drop a few words like "younger brother" and "shooting" and "he made it out okay, but --" and the woman is scrambling to get her carry-on out of the overhead compartment, barely slowing down enough to shake her head and mutter about the NRA with their guns everywhere and she doesn't know what this world is coming to but she remembers when schools used to be safe. And then she's patting Mercedes on the shoulder and moving up the aisle to her new seat next to some kid with spiky hair and headphones that are bigger than his actual head, and Mercedes is ushering Cooper into the seats, watching him fold himself up to fit. He keeps his satchel on his lap; it looks a lot like Blaine's, only in black. Mercedes wonders if that's the only luggage he has. She kinds of gets the impression that it is.
She gets her own suitcase stowed and then squeezes into the seat next to him, praying silently that whoever's on the aisle is both short and skinny, or this trip is going to be murder.
"I'm really tired of this," Cooper says, quietly.
Mercedes doesn't totally know what he's talking about, but she thinks she has an idea. She pretends she doesn't, though, just pats his wrist (his arm on the armrest; some gentleman he is), and says, "Better get used to it. These seats aren't getting any bigger."
He doesn't even acknowledge the comment; she's not sure he's even really heard her. "I know, it's... selfish. I mean, yeah, it's hard every time, and it's scary and I -- But Blaine -- I just... I don't understand why this has to keep happening to him. And I'm just... I'm just tired."
She can't pretend she doesn't understand him, now. She can't pretend she knows what to say, either, so she doesn't try. She just rests her hand on his wrist, her arm laid over his on the armrest, and she guesses this is as close to sharing as he can get right now.
"At least he's not in the hospital, this time," Cooper murmurs, and Mercedes slides her hand away from his wrist, lets her fingers slip between his, and breathes.
*
She's drifting a little bit, her arm maybe slipping a little off the armrest and her hand maybe brushing against Cooper's black jeans, her head maybe tipping a little into Cooper's shoulder, and there is maybe a little voice buried deep inside her heavy head giggling about the fact that she's sleeping with an actor on an airplane even though that's not exactly what's happening and she wouldn't want that to happen because she's not that kind of -- but the thought is still there, I am sleeping with Cooper Anderson --
And then he says, "He used to get these nightmares," and Mercedes realizes that Cooper Anderson isn't sleeping with anyone at all.
And, of course, she isn't either, not anymore. But she keeps her head on his shoulder, even as her hand slides back onto the armrest, holds on to his.
"I guess it wasn't -- Sleep terrors is what the doctor called it. Which kind of sounds like the villain from a kid's movie or something, but. Anyway. But I don't... I don't know if he was dreaming or not; he couldn't ever tell us what he -- But I remember waking up and hearing him just... Yelling and crying, and... Mom and Dad would be with him and they'd be trying to calm him down and his eyes would be open but he just... he wasn't there. Wherever he was, he was still there. He wasn't with us. He was there. And then he'd wake up, and he'd be so confused, and he didn't know why he'd been so scared but he had been, and... The doctor said he'd grow out of it, but we should try to get him to go to bed earlier, because I guess part of what makes kids have those kinds of dreams is not sleeping, which I thought was pretty weird, but Mom and Dad started trying to put him to bed earlier. Except he couldn't sleep; he was too scared to sleep. So I just..." Cooper shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling under Mercedes' cheek. "I'd go in and sit with him and read with him and he'd fall asleep. And sometimes he'd stay asleep and sometimes he'd wake up, screaming, and... Then one night I fell asleep before he did, and he didn't wake up that night. And then I did it again, and he didn't wake up that night, either. So I just... kept doing it. For a year. Well. Year and a half. Once he got into kindergarten, you know, he was a big kid. Didn't need me anymore."
"Speaking as someone with a big brother?" Mercedes pats at his hand. "He still needs you. He'll always need you."
"Yeah," Cooper says. "Yeah, I know."
They're quiet for a while, but Mercedes knows she's not falling asleep and this time, she knows Cooper isn't either.
"He hasn't slept since it happened," Cooper says, quietly. "Mom and Dad have been staying up with him. Talking. Which is good. I mean, they need to talk. About a lot of things. I just..."
Mercedes lifts her head off his shoulder and shifts back into her own seat.
Cooper blinks at her for a second; even up close, he still looks about as gorgeous as a man can without sleeping for two days. "Sorry," he says, and attempts to smile again. "Sorry, I'm babbling, I --
And Mercedes sighs, and lifts her arm off his, and wraps it around Cooper's shoulder, and pulls his head down until it's on her shoulder. "You don't have to sleep," she says. "But you could stand to rest those baby blues of yours a little bit."
"Oh," Cooper says. "Oh. Okay."
He sounds like Blaine when he says "Okay."
It makes Mercedes feel like she's actually doing something for the first time in three days. She doesn't waste time thinking about why.
*
He does sleep, in the end. Not very much, and not very deeply, just little moments of stillness between his quiet commentary on her ongoing Words With Friends war with Quinn, but all in all, he probably gets about twenty minutes of sleep, which is twenty minutes more sleep than he's gotten since Thursday, so that's something.
It's not enough that she actually lets him get anywhere near the car rental places, let alone behind the wheel -- her parents' sedan has more than enough room for one extra passenger carrying nothing more but a black leather satchel -- but it's still good to know that she's managed to help in some small way.
*
(She doesn't get a lot of sleep the next few days -- she and Tina stay up all night Saturday watching Boy Meets World, and then Sunday she stays with Kurt and they've got a few things to talk about, and then Monday everyone starts packing up to head home again and no one's ready to leave and after the stragglers get kicked out of BreadstiX right around midnight on Monday, she winds up sitting outside the school with Mike and Puck and Santana, of all people, and they don't really talk that much, but it's good just to have them around for a little while, before they split up again. But she doesn't even get home until after three a.m., and then she's got an early flight, and although she's got better ways of hiding her dark circles than just throwing on a pair of shades, she knows she's not looking her best when she gets to the airport Tuesday morning. But Cooper tells her she looks gorgeous anyway, and flirts with her seatmate -- a fifty year-old banker who looks stunned, confused, and flattered by turns -- until the man switches seats with him. They settle in together, side-by-side.
(This time, Cooper lets Mercedes take the armrest, and when her head settles on his shoulder, he doesn't say anything, just lets her sleep.)