just_1_word | 38.7. Care
38.7. Care
Co-written with agentsullivan
[Follows THIS]
Dazed could really be the only way Ali could describe how she felt in the wake of the last twenty four hours. First coming home from hospital, and then thing with Andrew's birthday presents, and finally the whole alcohol nightmare. The few hours Mark was here seemed like a distant memory, but she knew she would never be able to repay him for him much he helped. It was an horrific scene, but first he cleaned up the bathroom for her, and then got Andrew into a cold shower, albeit fully clothed and still sans his shirt. They must have had him in there for at least five minutes before he started to come-to, though. He wasn't aware of what was going on, however, and spent the next hour or so being sick while Ali held him over the toilet and Mark remained close in case anything went wrong. It was later still that he started to become aware of who he was, where he was, and the fact he had been drinking. They used the small window for Ali to clean him up and get a clean t-shirt on him, and Mark to help him back to bed. If he realised it was Mark there, he didn't say anything. Luke and Leila responded to Ali's calls then. Luke showing up at the apartment, and Leila calling to say she was on her way with the soldier. Jamie was back safe with Tab, which was a relief for Ali to hear. It was only once Ali had some back up in the form of Andrew's cousins that Mark left, but told her to call again if she needed anything. Ali knew something had shifted between them, and she planned to talk to him as soon as she could; as soon as she knew Andrew was okay.
Ali considered calling James or Izzy again, but she didn't bother. She realised she would rather focus her energy on Andrew than getting upset with her absent friends. It was now the early hours of the morning. Once the hours started to tick by and Andrew seemed okay, she told the others they could go home, trying her best to reassure them she was okay and could take care of him. And it was the truth. She desperately needed to take care of him and try to make up the pain she had caused him. They didn't go, though. Both Luke and Leila told her they were going to stay until morning, with the soldier readily agreeing to stick around too, but they promised if she didn't need their help by morning, they would leave and Ali the privacy with Andrew she needed. True to their word, Ali heard them leave a couple of hours before, but still Andrew slept on. She didn't sleep all night, sitting and watching to make sure he was okay. She wouldn't sleep until she knew, either. Even if he was only a little bit alright and could get better, it was a start.
Andrew started to rouse a short time later and Ali slowly stroked her fingers against his his cheek in soothing, rhythmic strokes. She was sitting with her back against the head of the bed, Andrew's head cradled in her lap with the bed covers drawn loosely up around him. She made sure not to restrict him in them too much in case he was sick again or needed the toilet in a hurry. They were her old bright purple sheets she used to use in her old apartment, complete with cow print edging and pillow slips. During the night, the sheets had to be changed three times, leaving her with this linen as a last resort. He looked strange lying amongst one of the remaining items of her bachelorette life that seemed so long ago now, but it was almost poignant. She managed the faintest of smiles when he opened his eyes groggily and had to take a few moments to get his bearings. "I bet you have one hell of a headache, baby," she murmured, but then pressed her lips together sadly so she didn't cry again.
Andrew looked up at her, his sore, reddened eyes just searching over her face silently. His head did hurt. Everything hurt, and not just physically, either. He didn't have any recollection of what actually happened, but he had an awareness of what he did. He had awareness of being in a cold shower, of blood and vomit, of Ali crying. He had lost himself again. He swallowed, and wet his lips, letting out a small breath. "Lie with me, beautiful," he told her in a hoarse whisper. "I just need you to lie with me..."
Ali shifted carefully and waited for him to move his head slowly back to his own pillow beside her. She only hesitated enough to peel the covers back and pull them over herself before she melted in beside him, wrapping her arm around him and burying her face into his shoulder. She wanted to squeeze him and not let go, but she knew he was in pain. She kissed his shoulder, almost frozen in the embrace like he would realise at any moment that she maybe didn't deserve this after not taking care of him when he needed it so desperately.
"I missed you," Andrew told her tearfully, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. His hands were shaking as he held her, but as soon as she was holding him, the floodgates opened. He started to cry, not just because she had come back to him, but for the baby they lost, and for how much he had realised in the tragedy that he still missed his own Dad. And because he knew he failed himself, and sent himself back to square one. The disappointment burned inside him that he couldn't have been stronger, but losing the baby had affected him more than he could ever have anticipated. He had wanted it more than he had been able to realise when they both thought there was more time left to anticipate it. And then it was just gone.
His words washed over Ali, and there was no way she wasn't going to be able to stop herself crying too. Maybe this is what they should have done days ago... hold each other, and cry together? But the guilt that had burned through her in the wake of the miscarriage seemed to collapse and give way to something else in the light of Andrew's distress: saddness. "Our baby died," she gasped out, almost as if just realising the enormity of the fact for the first time, and maybe she was. She gripped hold of his back, and her tears dampened his shirt. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
It was almost dejavu to what she had been saying to him in the bathroom at the bar that night, but it was different. She wasn't apologising to him for losing the baby, she was sorry they had lost it together. "I know," Andrew whispered, closing his eyes as he just let the tears come now he could finally hold her and just hurt with her. He stroked his finger through his hair, showing her he was there for her, and he knew by the way she was holding him that, finally, she could be there for him too. "Me too, beautiful. Me too."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,239
Co-written with agentsullivan
[Follows THIS]
Dazed could really be the only way Ali could describe how she felt in the wake of the last twenty four hours. First coming home from hospital, and then thing with Andrew's birthday presents, and finally the whole alcohol nightmare. The few hours Mark was here seemed like a distant memory, but she knew she would never be able to repay him for him much he helped. It was an horrific scene, but first he cleaned up the bathroom for her, and then got Andrew into a cold shower, albeit fully clothed and still sans his shirt. They must have had him in there for at least five minutes before he started to come-to, though. He wasn't aware of what was going on, however, and spent the next hour or so being sick while Ali held him over the toilet and Mark remained close in case anything went wrong. It was later still that he started to become aware of who he was, where he was, and the fact he had been drinking. They used the small window for Ali to clean him up and get a clean t-shirt on him, and Mark to help him back to bed. If he realised it was Mark there, he didn't say anything. Luke and Leila responded to Ali's calls then. Luke showing up at the apartment, and Leila calling to say she was on her way with the soldier. Jamie was back safe with Tab, which was a relief for Ali to hear. It was only once Ali had some back up in the form of Andrew's cousins that Mark left, but told her to call again if she needed anything. Ali knew something had shifted between them, and she planned to talk to him as soon as she could; as soon as she knew Andrew was okay.
Ali considered calling James or Izzy again, but she didn't bother. She realised she would rather focus her energy on Andrew than getting upset with her absent friends. It was now the early hours of the morning. Once the hours started to tick by and Andrew seemed okay, she told the others they could go home, trying her best to reassure them she was okay and could take care of him. And it was the truth. She desperately needed to take care of him and try to make up the pain she had caused him. They didn't go, though. Both Luke and Leila told her they were going to stay until morning, with the soldier readily agreeing to stick around too, but they promised if she didn't need their help by morning, they would leave and Ali the privacy with Andrew she needed. True to their word, Ali heard them leave a couple of hours before, but still Andrew slept on. She didn't sleep all night, sitting and watching to make sure he was okay. She wouldn't sleep until she knew, either. Even if he was only a little bit alright and could get better, it was a start.
Andrew started to rouse a short time later and Ali slowly stroked her fingers against his his cheek in soothing, rhythmic strokes. She was sitting with her back against the head of the bed, Andrew's head cradled in her lap with the bed covers drawn loosely up around him. She made sure not to restrict him in them too much in case he was sick again or needed the toilet in a hurry. They were her old bright purple sheets she used to use in her old apartment, complete with cow print edging and pillow slips. During the night, the sheets had to be changed three times, leaving her with this linen as a last resort. He looked strange lying amongst one of the remaining items of her bachelorette life that seemed so long ago now, but it was almost poignant. She managed the faintest of smiles when he opened his eyes groggily and had to take a few moments to get his bearings. "I bet you have one hell of a headache, baby," she murmured, but then pressed her lips together sadly so she didn't cry again.
Andrew looked up at her, his sore, reddened eyes just searching over her face silently. His head did hurt. Everything hurt, and not just physically, either. He didn't have any recollection of what actually happened, but he had an awareness of what he did. He had awareness of being in a cold shower, of blood and vomit, of Ali crying. He had lost himself again. He swallowed, and wet his lips, letting out a small breath. "Lie with me, beautiful," he told her in a hoarse whisper. "I just need you to lie with me..."
Ali shifted carefully and waited for him to move his head slowly back to his own pillow beside her. She only hesitated enough to peel the covers back and pull them over herself before she melted in beside him, wrapping her arm around him and burying her face into his shoulder. She wanted to squeeze him and not let go, but she knew he was in pain. She kissed his shoulder, almost frozen in the embrace like he would realise at any moment that she maybe didn't deserve this after not taking care of him when he needed it so desperately.
"I missed you," Andrew told her tearfully, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. His hands were shaking as he held her, but as soon as she was holding him, the floodgates opened. He started to cry, not just because she had come back to him, but for the baby they lost, and for how much he had realised in the tragedy that he still missed his own Dad. And because he knew he failed himself, and sent himself back to square one. The disappointment burned inside him that he couldn't have been stronger, but losing the baby had affected him more than he could ever have anticipated. He had wanted it more than he had been able to realise when they both thought there was more time left to anticipate it. And then it was just gone.
His words washed over Ali, and there was no way she wasn't going to be able to stop herself crying too. Maybe this is what they should have done days ago... hold each other, and cry together? But the guilt that had burned through her in the wake of the miscarriage seemed to collapse and give way to something else in the light of Andrew's distress: saddness. "Our baby died," she gasped out, almost as if just realising the enormity of the fact for the first time, and maybe she was. She gripped hold of his back, and her tears dampened his shirt. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
It was almost dejavu to what she had been saying to him in the bathroom at the bar that night, but it was different. She wasn't apologising to him for losing the baby, she was sorry they had lost it together. "I know," Andrew whispered, closing his eyes as he just let the tears come now he could finally hold her and just hurt with her. He stroked his finger through his hair, showing her he was there for her, and he knew by the way she was holding him that, finally, she could be there for him too. "Me too, beautiful. Me too."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,239