Fic: Trestling Under the Influence (Crossover) Chapter 2

Jan 06, 2012 01:21


Title: Trestling Under the Influence
Chapter: Cure For This
Pairing: Katie/??? (You’ll just have to guess and/or wait and see!)
Rating: T for swearing and whatnot


Oh yeah and um this is un-beta’d so yeah… all mistakes are mine.



Her head is throbbing when she wakes up. She’s spread out on top of Effy who’s out cold, and quietly snoring beneath her. She looks at her watch and sees that it’s only 5 o’clock in the morning. A cough escapes from her lips, and suddenly Katie feels her stomach twists in an extremely unpleasant way.  Quickly, she pushes herself off Effy’s tummy with her fist, accidentally waking the girl up as she scrambles over to the trash can just in time for it to come out. She’s half balancing on the bed still, and half balancing on the floor with her head in the can when Effy - who’s still trapped under her weight - sits up to see what the fuck is going on.

“What the-oh, eww! That’s fuckig nasty!” Effy yelps.

If she wasn’t so occupied with upchucking, Katie might’ve told the taller girl to shut the fuck up.

It takes a moment, but Effy decides to be helpful by reaching for a towel from the floor. She hands it to Katie, and gingerly sweeps the smaller girl’s her hair back with her free hand.

“I guess we partied a little to hard last night,” Effy says, grabbing the end of the towel and dabbing away gently at the wetness next to Katie’s mouth.

Her insides continue to swirl, as Katie finishes up, pushing herself off the floor and back onto the bed next to Effy. Effy flinches as she takes a good whiff of her.

“Ugh, you smell rotten.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the compliment.”

Effy gets up and leaves the room. When she returns, she’s got a tall glass of water and a few tabs of Tylenol. Katie forces a smirk, still feeling like shit, “Well I guess you’re not completely useless.” The pills go down easy, as she pretty much downs the entire glass of water in one gulp.

“Still think you’ll be able to work today?”

Her head is still spinning. Yes Katie thinks even though she knows her body is saying hell no. She needs to work. Closing her eyes for a moment, she exhales deeply, “Of course.”



Of course it turns out that Katie wasn’t quite finished with vomiting.

With her knees on either side of the porcelain bowl, Katie’s puking into a client’s toilet. The client, a quiet mousy woman in her late forties, stands back in the hallways outside the bathroom with her mouth agape, and eyes wide open. Effy stands next to the woman, arms cross and failing at containing her amusement.

“Um, Effy is it?”

Effy nods.

“Are you - are you sure your coworker’s well enough to be working today?”

“Um, yeah… just, give her a minute.” Effy cringes as Katie groans into the toilet again. She pulls the lady aside; steering her attention away from Katie’s moment of glory, “Forgive her, really…. She’s um - going through morning sickness.”

The expression on the mousey client’s face goes from appalled to congratulatory. (As if everything suddenly makes sense!) She congratulates Effy - who tells the woman not to say anything to Katie about her pregnancy because she’s shy about these kind of things - and Katie who has no idea what’s going on, as the older woman leaves the girls to their business.



However, it seems like Katie needs to pay a visit to the bathroom every two hours.



“This is one of the worst days of my life,” Katie whines, dropping onto the couch next to Effy, with a duster still in her hand.

Effy laughs. “Well you shouldn’t have downed as many drinks as you did last night. Jesus, you drank me under the table. That never happens!”

“Why don’t you feel like shit? Why am I the only one that has to suffer?”

“I’m gifted,” Effy winks. “Now come on let’s stop slacking and let’s finish this shit so we can get off work. I’m not even getting paid for this shit.”

“Thanks,” Katie utters, as she reaches up to rub her temples. “Thanks for helping me out with work today. I can’t imagine doing this all by myself while being this fucking hung over.”

“Well you know… Sometimes I can be helpful, and not just be a useless tit.”



After work, when Katie asks Effy later as to what she said to their client to make her be in such a good mood despite her embarrassing behavior, Effy laughs and tells Katie that she told “Old Mousey” that Katie’s been knocked up.

“You fucking told her what? I’m not pregnant!”

“Well what did you want me to tell her, that you’re performing like shit today cause we were out drinking last night?”

“Effy!”

“Come on Katie, you know it was a brilliant idea.”

Katie shakes her head, but hides her smile of approval. She knows Effy’s right, but like hell she’d ever give her the satisfaction of knowing that.



When night falls, the girls keep things low key, watching TV all night until they both fall asleep.

By the time Katie passes out, her puking routine finally seizes.



That is, until the next morning.



Her throat burns, as she hovers over the toilet again for the second day in a row.

What the fuck?

What is going on? Last night she felt better, and now she is back to feeling like shit again. Was she catching the flu?

She leaves the apartment before Effy could wake up, heading for the drug store. Thank god it was her day off today.

When she asks for some drugs from the pharmacist after giving him her symptoms, he looks at her quizzically.

“What? What is it?” Katie asks.

“When was your last menstrual cycle?”

Are you fucking kidding me?

“I’m not pregnant. I’m just under the weather and I need some drugs. So give me what I want and stop wasting my time.”

“Look Miss, thing is if you are pregnant I can’t give you certain drugs because it might affect the -”

“For fucks sakes! I’m not fucking pregnant,” Katie exclaims. She pushes herself away from the counter - away from the pharmacist, and marches out of the drug store in a huff. She’s extremely livid. Her hands shake as she reaches into her purse for a cigarette. When she grabs the pack she sees the warning label on the carton, specifically the picture of a pregnant woman and the slogan that pretty much states smoking kills babies. She drops the carton to the ground, as if burned by it.

I’m not pregnant.

Right?

Suddenly her cellphone goes off, vibrating loudly in her purse, as Katie reaches for it and answers it.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” it’s Effy, “Where’d you go?”

“Um, I needed to go for walk. Needed some fresh air. I think I’m getting sick actually.”

“Oh well, that’s too bad,” Effy says on the other line. “Well when you come back, you should make me some breakfast, cause I’m starving.”

“God you’re so lazy,” Katie bitches, but smiles. “What would you do with out me?”

“Hmm, well I’d certainly be living on the streets if it weren’t for you,” Effys begins, humming, “Maybe even die out of a broken heart…. Cause you know I can’t live without my Katiekins.”

“Don’t make me laugh Stonem,” she chuckles, loosening up as she almost forgets about her current dilemma. She bends down to pick up her pack of cigarettes, and stuffs it back into her purse.

“Well if you are going to return home, I hope it’s sooner than later. I’m starting my new job today, so I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Fine, I’ll guess I’ll hurry home to feed your lazy ass.”

“Oh Katie, I love you!”

“Fuck off, dear.”



For the next couple of days, Katie continues to convince herself that she’s just sick, with the flu. She’s not pregnant. Not at all. She and Eric have always been safe anyway, so really there’s no chance in hell that’s she’s with child.

Somewhere in the back of her mind though, there’s doubt.

She’s not really sure why, or where this doubt comes from - maybe it’s due to the fact that based on her track record her life has been full of bad luck during the last five years. Or maybe for some silly, ridiculous reason, she kind of hopes that -

No. Just no.



After about a week of morning sickness, Katie loses it. She’s tired of hiding from Effy, who is completely oblivious over the whole thing, and has no clue that something’s bothering her. (It’s starting to be a bit difficult turning Effy down every time she’s asked Katie to join her for a smoke or a drink. Just saying she “wants to be a little healthier”, or “not while she’s still got this god awful flu” just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore.)

She’s at the same drug store she was at a week ago, looking for pregnancy testers. The same pharmacist from last week is working today, his beady little eyes following her as she walks down the aisles. Katie looks away, ignoring his judgmental gaze as she finds what she’s looking for.

She grabs the box, and heads for the cash register.



All she wants is a reconfirmation that she is NOT pregnant.



She doesn’t get it.



The entire apartment building hears her from the bathroom as she utters the word FUUUUCK at the top of her lungs. A few more expletives later she’s pounding her fists down at the porcelain sink, glaring down at the offensive cross showing on the pregnancy stick hanging out at the bottom of the sink, almost mocking her with the truth.



She calls Eric immediately after she remembers this isn’t her fault alone.

As soon as he picks up she’s drops the bomb immediately. She ignores that fact that she hears kids horsing around in the background as she tears their father’s attention away from their playtime.

“I’m fucking pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant Eric.”

“WHAT? Wait.”

The phone is muffled, and Katie suddenly hears silence. Suddenly he’s back on the phone again, probably in another room by himself, she thinks. “Who the fuck is this?”

Fucking idiot.

“It’s me. Katie.” She contemplates whether or not Eric has any other whores on the side, because of his ridiculous question - cause really, who else could be calling him? - but decides she’s got way too much on her plate to be thinking about that kind of shit right now.

“Katie! For Christ sakes, why’d you call me at home? What if  Heather picked up? I told you not to call me unless it’s an emergency.”

“I’m pregnant you tit. It is a fucking emergency.” She hears him sigh, before he tells her that he’ll meet her at the place. She doesn’t say good-bye or wait for him to tell her good-bye as she ends the call, and picks up her car keys.



They sit on opposite sides of the bed, backs facing each other. Not a word has been spoken, since they both arrived at the motel to meet in private to discuss the situation. Finally Eric speaks up.

“Are you going to keep it?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Calm down Katie, I’m just asking.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I-” He starts, and immediately Katie knows where this is going. Anger surges inside her as she turns around and shoves him off the bed. He falls to the ground shouting in surprise. “Woah, fuck Katie!”

“Fuck you if you’re just going to tell me you want nothing to do with this.”

“Katie,” he sputters, “I’ve got a wife, and kids…”

She fights the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. “Fucking should’ve known you were just another asshole.”

He reaches out to try and comfort her but Katie just backs away.

“Look, if it makes you happy, you should just have it-”

“-If it makes me happy?”

Eric sighs, finally getting up from his spot on the floor. “I just, I’m unstable financially. Okay? I want what’s best for you.”

Katie snorts at his ridiculous claim.

“I just can’t support you. Financially.”

“You know I should just have this baby, and cut you right out of its life. At least maybe this baby could actually love me for once, since nobody else ever will.”
Eric remains silent, not knowing what to say, and his lack of arguing to be in the baby’s life just does it for Katie. She rubs at her eyes and quickly grabs her purse to leave. As she reaches for the doorknob, Eric tells her quietly that he’s sorry and he supports her in whatever decision she chooses. Just as he’s going on about “still wanting to help her while still not being able to give her any money”, a thought suddenly pops into Katie’s mind.

Clearing her throat, she turns around and faces him, “There is something you can do.”

“What’s that?” he says, his voice a bit hopeful.

“You know last week… you mentioned how those specialized cleaning guys make so much money…”



“Um, no thanks Katie.”

“What do you mean ‘no thanks’?”

Effy shrugs, and looks at Katie as if she’s crazy, “I’ve got a job now-”

“-Yeah but for how long?” Katie counters, only to receive a icy glare from the brunette. Katie tries again, “Look, come on. After all these years I’ve been there for you, taken care of you - you could at least do this one thing for me.”

“What do you expect me to do? Quit my job? I just started! Isn’t that the exact opposite of what you want? Me depending on you again.” Effy stubs out her smoke in the ashtray. She gets up from the bench and leans over the balcony, leaving Katie sitting alone.

“I’m not saying you have to quit your job. Just help me try this cleaning shit out for a bit. I just, don’t want to do it by myself. It’s just until I figure out if it’s worth it, and if I can find a partner to work with me.”

Her cell phone goes off, alerting her that she’s received a text message. Katie flips her phone open and sees that it’s from Emily

“Who’s that?” Effy asks.

“Emily.”

“You should ask her to join you,” Effy jokes.

“Fuck no,” Katie retorts, annoyed by Effy’s lack of ability to take anything seriously. She slumps back on the bench, sighing as Effy turns around and glares. The brunette groans, pursing her lips as she shoves her hands into her pockets.

“Fine. I’ll take a couple days off.”

She tackles Effy so hard in a hug they almost fall over the balcony.



Chapter Three

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skins, katie, fanfic, effy, katie fitch, fanfiction, effy stonem, fic

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