just_muse_me | 16.1.5. Rosa Parks quote
16.1.5. “Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again.” - Rosa Parks
Co-written with pullmysteth
[Follows THIS]
It was an unusually cold evening for March in Princeton that night. It almost felt like it was still winter when they were well on their way into spring. Lachlan couldn’t explain why he went there. It was stupid, really. It was rearing its ugly head again and he felt like he was floundering around alone in an ocean with no views of the horizon. He knew that feeling in his gut wasn’t indigestion… it was regret.
It was well lit now. Nothing like that night. Extra security lights had been installed recently and CCTV cameras now covered every single possible angle of that sidewalk. Lachlan stood with his arms wrapped tightly around himself staring down at the patch of concrete that would always be lighter than the rest of the surrounding areas. It had been cleaned with machines and industrial strength corrosives to get rid of every single trace of blood. God knows what he would look like to anyone passing him by, staring at seemingly nothing and unmoving in his posture. The security guards were probably wondering what the fuck he was doing, too. At least some of them probably were. The newer ones. Others would be able to deduce why he was there. Good for them, because Lachlan himself didn’t know why he was there.
He put a gloved hand up over his face as a sob caught in his throat. Why had Tara’s drunken ramblings hurt so much and dragged so much to the forefront again? She said she was fine with the fact they couldn’t have more kids! They didn’t need any more to be happy. Riley was a miracle and they were blessed to even have him. She had said it all. But then, drunk and merry, the slurred request to have another when he couldn’t... almost like she had forgotten all the pain and heartache. The internal scarring from the shooting now that the wounds had healed from outside in was just too extensive. Right here, on this very patch of concrete under his feet, his whole life as he knew it had been ripped away from him and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He could never give his wife what she wanted.
When a hand came to rest on Lachlan’s shoulder a few moments later, he literally screamed in fright, reflexively spinning around with a sharp swing of his fist and catching the person in the side of the face. It was like slow motion at first as he realised he had just all but knocked his best friend out. Riley fell backwards to the ground, his hand coming up to the side of his face where Lachlan planted the well-aimed punch. In hindsight, it was probably a really bad idea to take his friend by surprise on the very spot he had a gun pointed at him and nearly lost his life. The hand on the shoulder had been an attempt not to startle him. Riley’s head knocked back against the concrete and he gave a choked moan, having had the wind knocked out of him.
“SHIT!” Lachlan screeched in shock, the tears from a few moments ago still wet on his cheeks. He crouched down beside Riley in panic. “Oh fuck, oh shit, bollocks, fuck… Riley, can you hear me, buddy? Oh god, you’re bleeding…” Riley was in his scrubs with a jacket over the top. Lachlan started to quickly tear through the other doctor’s pockets and came up trumps with some leftover latex gloves from his shift. It wasn’t an uncommon habit for a doctor to carry extra, especially Riley. Lachlan pulled them on with a snap and peeled Riley’s hand away from his face, wincing when he could see a bruise already forming around his eye. It was his nose that was bleeding, and Lachlan started to carefully check for any broken bones.
Riley didn’t protest or try to move. It was going to hurt more if he did. “Fuck… it’s… okay… its fine… my fault…” he said hoarsely. “Take me to the Clinic and call for Cameron. She knows about the HIV. Holy fuck, mate…”
“I’m sorry,” Lachlan said helplessly, shaking his head. He held his hand in front of Riley’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Riley tried to crack his eyes open just a little bit more, but it was almost impossible to get the bruised one open which was now puffy and as sore as all fuck. “Four?” he guessed.
Lachlan looked at his two fingers. “You need more than a quick patch up in the Clinic,” he said. “You’re going to the ER and I’ll get your ex boss to look at you. No one needs to know about the HIV. You’re allowed your confidentiality.”
“You were crying,” Riley said, ignoring Lachlan’s comments and ignoring the fact he was lying sprawled in the garden beside the sidewalk. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Lachlan averted his eyes and then tucked his hands under Riley’s arms to help him into a sitting position. “Let’s just get you seen to. I think you’re going to need some sutures…” he mumbled, not quite believing he had just decked his best friend. That icy cold grip of fear at feeling the hand on his shoulder was still settled under his skin, though, and even know, crouched near the ground, he found himself looking around for anyone nearby. It was too much. It was far too much.
All muses referenced with permission and come from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 908
Co-written with pullmysteth
[Follows THIS]
It was an unusually cold evening for March in Princeton that night. It almost felt like it was still winter when they were well on their way into spring. Lachlan couldn’t explain why he went there. It was stupid, really. It was rearing its ugly head again and he felt like he was floundering around alone in an ocean with no views of the horizon. He knew that feeling in his gut wasn’t indigestion… it was regret.
It was well lit now. Nothing like that night. Extra security lights had been installed recently and CCTV cameras now covered every single possible angle of that sidewalk. Lachlan stood with his arms wrapped tightly around himself staring down at the patch of concrete that would always be lighter than the rest of the surrounding areas. It had been cleaned with machines and industrial strength corrosives to get rid of every single trace of blood. God knows what he would look like to anyone passing him by, staring at seemingly nothing and unmoving in his posture. The security guards were probably wondering what the fuck he was doing, too. At least some of them probably were. The newer ones. Others would be able to deduce why he was there. Good for them, because Lachlan himself didn’t know why he was there.
He put a gloved hand up over his face as a sob caught in his throat. Why had Tara’s drunken ramblings hurt so much and dragged so much to the forefront again? She said she was fine with the fact they couldn’t have more kids! They didn’t need any more to be happy. Riley was a miracle and they were blessed to even have him. She had said it all. But then, drunk and merry, the slurred request to have another when he couldn’t... almost like she had forgotten all the pain and heartache. The internal scarring from the shooting now that the wounds had healed from outside in was just too extensive. Right here, on this very patch of concrete under his feet, his whole life as he knew it had been ripped away from him and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He could never give his wife what she wanted.
When a hand came to rest on Lachlan’s shoulder a few moments later, he literally screamed in fright, reflexively spinning around with a sharp swing of his fist and catching the person in the side of the face. It was like slow motion at first as he realised he had just all but knocked his best friend out. Riley fell backwards to the ground, his hand coming up to the side of his face where Lachlan planted the well-aimed punch. In hindsight, it was probably a really bad idea to take his friend by surprise on the very spot he had a gun pointed at him and nearly lost his life. The hand on the shoulder had been an attempt not to startle him. Riley’s head knocked back against the concrete and he gave a choked moan, having had the wind knocked out of him.
“SHIT!” Lachlan screeched in shock, the tears from a few moments ago still wet on his cheeks. He crouched down beside Riley in panic. “Oh fuck, oh shit, bollocks, fuck… Riley, can you hear me, buddy? Oh god, you’re bleeding…” Riley was in his scrubs with a jacket over the top. Lachlan started to quickly tear through the other doctor’s pockets and came up trumps with some leftover latex gloves from his shift. It wasn’t an uncommon habit for a doctor to carry extra, especially Riley. Lachlan pulled them on with a snap and peeled Riley’s hand away from his face, wincing when he could see a bruise already forming around his eye. It was his nose that was bleeding, and Lachlan started to carefully check for any broken bones.
Riley didn’t protest or try to move. It was going to hurt more if he did. “Fuck… it’s… okay… its fine… my fault…” he said hoarsely. “Take me to the Clinic and call for Cameron. She knows about the HIV. Holy fuck, mate…”
“I’m sorry,” Lachlan said helplessly, shaking his head. He held his hand in front of Riley’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Riley tried to crack his eyes open just a little bit more, but it was almost impossible to get the bruised one open which was now puffy and as sore as all fuck. “Four?” he guessed.
Lachlan looked at his two fingers. “You need more than a quick patch up in the Clinic,” he said. “You’re going to the ER and I’ll get your ex boss to look at you. No one needs to know about the HIV. You’re allowed your confidentiality.”
“You were crying,” Riley said, ignoring Lachlan’s comments and ignoring the fact he was lying sprawled in the garden beside the sidewalk. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Lachlan averted his eyes and then tucked his hands under Riley’s arms to help him into a sitting position. “Let’s just get you seen to. I think you’re going to need some sutures…” he mumbled, not quite believing he had just decked his best friend. That icy cold grip of fear at feeling the hand on his shoulder was still settled under his skin, though, and even know, crouched near the ground, he found himself looking around for anyone nearby. It was too much. It was far too much.
All muses referenced with permission and come from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 908