.033 Too Much
.033 Too Much
Sydney Alexis
Companion Piece for A Simple Thing
It had been hours since she'd arrived to find him sitting in the bright, sterile hallway. Blood and tears streaking his face, he looked so broken sitting there. The grief was palpable, hanging heavily in the air as strongly as the coppery scent of Justin's dried blood.
She'd taken up sentry duty while Michael went home and rested. Long hours spent beside her friend, watching his lack of movement and waiting to listen if he needed someone to speak to. For the most part though, he'd just sat stock still and stared straight ahead. She knew that look; he was actively thinking about something or trying not to. And, in this case, if fucking terrified her.
"Do you want to go and get cleaned up," she asked, spotting the overnight bag Vic had packed and dropped off hours before.
Brian blinked slowly as if he was trying to discern the meaning of the words. Tear-filled eyes gazed over hands and skin and fabric stiff with blood, and, as Lindsay sat there beside him, she knew what he was thinking; he wanted to wear the evidence of what he'd done. What his actions made occur.
Smoothing his hair the way she did with Gus', she spoke in a voice just above a whisper.
"He's up in surgery now. You want to look your best for him when he wakes up, don't you?"
It was a ridiculous thing to say. One that they both knew was bullshit; Lindz had asked him that as a way to focus on something else if only for a few minutes. They also both knew that, the moment the family saw him sitting there the next morning, caked in Justin's blood, they'd be suggesting none too quietly that he go home, rest, and return--an option Lindsay knew he'd never take.
Lips thinning, she watched him consider this as carefully as he had her earlier question. What seemed an eon later, he nodded his head.
Standing on legs that had long since fallen asleep, he grabbed up the duffel bag and headed towards the shower she'd indicated.
He returned some time later, dressed in old Levis, a black button down, and boots, and, though she caught a glimpse of the scarf beneath his shirt when he sat, Lindsay didn't say a word. She was simply happy he looked slightly less haunted.
After waiting for Brian to sit, she handed Gus to him.
Blinking slowly, Brian hands instinctively took the tiny child in his arms. Gus squirmed a moment then settled down against his chest. Small mouth wrapping around his father's thumb, the baby began sucking his make-shift binky.
Brian smiled weakly at his son.
An age ago, Lindsay told Brian that the way she knew she was alive was by taking care of Gus.
She only hoped he'd remember that lesson before all of this became too much and they'd loose him forever.
fanfic100: 12/100
Sydney Alexis
Companion Piece for A Simple Thing
It had been hours since she'd arrived to find him sitting in the bright, sterile hallway. Blood and tears streaking his face, he looked so broken sitting there. The grief was palpable, hanging heavily in the air as strongly as the coppery scent of Justin's dried blood.
She'd taken up sentry duty while Michael went home and rested. Long hours spent beside her friend, watching his lack of movement and waiting to listen if he needed someone to speak to. For the most part though, he'd just sat stock still and stared straight ahead. She knew that look; he was actively thinking about something or trying not to. And, in this case, if fucking terrified her.
"Do you want to go and get cleaned up," she asked, spotting the overnight bag Vic had packed and dropped off hours before.
Brian blinked slowly as if he was trying to discern the meaning of the words. Tear-filled eyes gazed over hands and skin and fabric stiff with blood, and, as Lindsay sat there beside him, she knew what he was thinking; he wanted to wear the evidence of what he'd done. What his actions made occur.
Smoothing his hair the way she did with Gus', she spoke in a voice just above a whisper.
"He's up in surgery now. You want to look your best for him when he wakes up, don't you?"
It was a ridiculous thing to say. One that they both knew was bullshit; Lindz had asked him that as a way to focus on something else if only for a few minutes. They also both knew that, the moment the family saw him sitting there the next morning, caked in Justin's blood, they'd be suggesting none too quietly that he go home, rest, and return--an option Lindsay knew he'd never take.
Lips thinning, she watched him consider this as carefully as he had her earlier question. What seemed an eon later, he nodded his head.
Standing on legs that had long since fallen asleep, he grabbed up the duffel bag and headed towards the shower she'd indicated.
He returned some time later, dressed in old Levis, a black button down, and boots, and, though she caught a glimpse of the scarf beneath his shirt when he sat, Lindsay didn't say a word. She was simply happy he looked slightly less haunted.
After waiting for Brian to sit, she handed Gus to him.
Blinking slowly, Brian hands instinctively took the tiny child in his arms. Gus squirmed a moment then settled down against his chest. Small mouth wrapping around his father's thumb, the baby began sucking his make-shift binky.
Brian smiled weakly at his son.
An age ago, Lindsay told Brian that the way she knew she was alive was by taking care of Gus.
She only hoped he'd remember that lesson before all of this became too much and they'd loose him forever.
fanfic100: 12/100