General Hospital never gave me enough Amy/Laura scenes for my liking, so
I'll just have to write my own. I hope y'all enjoy. :)
*****
Lean On Me
The house was silent, as it usually was at this late hour. Lulu and Lesley were both asleep. Laura had been sitting by her little girl's bed, watching her sleeping, cherubic face, as if to make up for the time she hadn't been spending with her lately.
Amy had appeared at her sister's door unexpectedly. She hadn't been sure if Laura would be there, but at times like these there was no one else she wanted to talk to, no one else who would really understand. Tonight she had not only found Laura, she actually had time to sit down and talk.
Laura handed Amy a hot cup of tea, then sat down next to her on the couch. She didn't say anything as Amy stared into the amber liquid, lost in thought. She could tell her sister was in an unusually serious mood, so she waited until Amy was ready to share what was on her mind.
Amy breathed in the sweet aroma, took a small sip to warm her inside, then leaned over and placed the cup on the table. She turned to Laura. "Barbara called… or should I say my Mom?"
Laura understood immediately, and closed her eyes for a moment as she felt a stab of sorrow hit her. How could she have forgotten? "Come here," she said softly, tapping her upper legs.
"I'm not a child, Laura."
"No, but you are my kid sister. So do what I say."
That managed to elicit a brief smile from Amy. She sighed and laid her head on Laura's lap. "I'll be okay."
Laura tenderly stroked Amy's hair. "I know you will."
"And how do you know that?" Amy wanted to know.
"Because you're stronger than you think." Most people thought Amy was as deep as a child's pool, but Laura knew her sister had her own ghosts haunting her. And she'd always managed to get through them a whole lot better than most people, including herself. "Did I ever tell you you're my hero?"
"If you break into song, I'm leaving," Amy warned, but she smiled at the compliment.
"Do you remember when we used to put on those shows for our stuffed animals?" Laura asked.
Amy smiled at the memory. "Yeah. We used our brushes as microphones, and thought we were the neatest thing ever." She sighed, her breath coming out shaky. "Seems like forever ago."
"I know. Things were so simple then."
They fell into silence again as they thought back to those early shared days of their youth. Tears pricked at both their eyes, as the nostalgia got stronger.
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog…" Laura sang softly.
"Was a good friend of mine…" Amy sang the next line, forgetting her earlier warning.
"I never understood a single word he said…"
"But I helped him a drink his wine…"
Amy sat up, as she and Laura finished the last line of the verse together. "And he always had some mighty fine wine."
They laughed quietly, both feeling better.
"I think it's a good thing we didn't try to make it big with that routine," Laura commented.
"You're probably right. Remember how Dad would bang on the wall and yell at us to keep it down…" A lump formed in Amy's throat and she stopped, the tears welling up in earnest.
Laura reached over and took her sister's hand, her own tears clouding her vision. "I remember. And Mom would tell him to just let us be."
Amy stiffened, wiping away the tears that had fallen. She didn't respond.
Laura broached the subject tentatively, knowing Amy needed to talk about it. "So…. Barbara called?" Even now, she felt a little strange calling the woman who'd raised her anything but Mom.
"Yep," Amy nodded. "The required five-minute call per month." Her voice was soft, but not without resentment. "She says hi, by the way."
"I'm sorry, Amy." Laura tried not to think of the last time she'd talked to Barbara. She wasn't sure she could remember when that had been.
"I don't know why I'm always such a mess when she calls."
"Yes, you do," Laura said gently. "She's your mother… and today…"
"Is the anniversary of my father's death."
Amy and Laura were both nearing forty, but at that moment they still felt as young as they had been when Jason Vining had first died.
And just as lost, despite everything they'd been through in the years in between.
Amy looked at her sister after the silent pause had stretched for a good five minutes. "It's late, I should go and let you sleep," she said, though the idea of going back to her empty apartment was not particularly appealing.
"I'm not sleepy. Are you?" Laura asked.
Amy shook her head. "I can never sleep on this day."
"Why don't you stay here, then?"
"Don't you have to work tomorrow?"
"I think we both know Elton doesn't need me to run the company." Laura stood up. "I'll be right back."
Amy watched Laura go up the stairs, and then come back down after a few minutes, carrying a blanket and what looked like a shoebox. Her natural curiosity awoke and she asked, "What's that?"
Laura settled back onto the couch before answering, draping the blanket over their legs, and taking the lid off the box. "Pictures of us that I keep meaning to put in an album." She took out an old photograph and handed it to Amy. It was one of her favorites.
Amy shook her head and smiled at the sight of the two little blonde girls, posing like would-be rock stars, grins as wide as their faces. "We really were complete dorks."
"Yeah, but it was okay because we had each other."
Amy rested her head on her big sister's shoulder. "We still do."
Laura stuck out her pinky and Amy linked her own pinky with hers in the age- old sign of loyalty. "Always."
~The End~
Song lyrics from Third Dog Night's Joy to the World
*****
Lean On Me
The house was silent, as it usually was at this late hour. Lulu and Lesley were both asleep. Laura had been sitting by her little girl's bed, watching her sleeping, cherubic face, as if to make up for the time she hadn't been spending with her lately.
Amy had appeared at her sister's door unexpectedly. She hadn't been sure if Laura would be there, but at times like these there was no one else she wanted to talk to, no one else who would really understand. Tonight she had not only found Laura, she actually had time to sit down and talk.
Laura handed Amy a hot cup of tea, then sat down next to her on the couch. She didn't say anything as Amy stared into the amber liquid, lost in thought. She could tell her sister was in an unusually serious mood, so she waited until Amy was ready to share what was on her mind.
Amy breathed in the sweet aroma, took a small sip to warm her inside, then leaned over and placed the cup on the table. She turned to Laura. "Barbara called… or should I say my Mom?"
Laura understood immediately, and closed her eyes for a moment as she felt a stab of sorrow hit her. How could she have forgotten? "Come here," she said softly, tapping her upper legs.
"I'm not a child, Laura."
"No, but you are my kid sister. So do what I say."
That managed to elicit a brief smile from Amy. She sighed and laid her head on Laura's lap. "I'll be okay."
Laura tenderly stroked Amy's hair. "I know you will."
"And how do you know that?" Amy wanted to know.
"Because you're stronger than you think." Most people thought Amy was as deep as a child's pool, but Laura knew her sister had her own ghosts haunting her. And she'd always managed to get through them a whole lot better than most people, including herself. "Did I ever tell you you're my hero?"
"If you break into song, I'm leaving," Amy warned, but she smiled at the compliment.
"Do you remember when we used to put on those shows for our stuffed animals?" Laura asked.
Amy smiled at the memory. "Yeah. We used our brushes as microphones, and thought we were the neatest thing ever." She sighed, her breath coming out shaky. "Seems like forever ago."
"I know. Things were so simple then."
They fell into silence again as they thought back to those early shared days of their youth. Tears pricked at both their eyes, as the nostalgia got stronger.
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog…" Laura sang softly.
"Was a good friend of mine…" Amy sang the next line, forgetting her earlier warning.
"I never understood a single word he said…"
"But I helped him a drink his wine…"
Amy sat up, as she and Laura finished the last line of the verse together. "And he always had some mighty fine wine."
They laughed quietly, both feeling better.
"I think it's a good thing we didn't try to make it big with that routine," Laura commented.
"You're probably right. Remember how Dad would bang on the wall and yell at us to keep it down…" A lump formed in Amy's throat and she stopped, the tears welling up in earnest.
Laura reached over and took her sister's hand, her own tears clouding her vision. "I remember. And Mom would tell him to just let us be."
Amy stiffened, wiping away the tears that had fallen. She didn't respond.
Laura broached the subject tentatively, knowing Amy needed to talk about it. "So…. Barbara called?" Even now, she felt a little strange calling the woman who'd raised her anything but Mom.
"Yep," Amy nodded. "The required five-minute call per month." Her voice was soft, but not without resentment. "She says hi, by the way."
"I'm sorry, Amy." Laura tried not to think of the last time she'd talked to Barbara. She wasn't sure she could remember when that had been.
"I don't know why I'm always such a mess when she calls."
"Yes, you do," Laura said gently. "She's your mother… and today…"
"Is the anniversary of my father's death."
Amy and Laura were both nearing forty, but at that moment they still felt as young as they had been when Jason Vining had first died.
And just as lost, despite everything they'd been through in the years in between.
Amy looked at her sister after the silent pause had stretched for a good five minutes. "It's late, I should go and let you sleep," she said, though the idea of going back to her empty apartment was not particularly appealing.
"I'm not sleepy. Are you?" Laura asked.
Amy shook her head. "I can never sleep on this day."
"Why don't you stay here, then?"
"Don't you have to work tomorrow?"
"I think we both know Elton doesn't need me to run the company." Laura stood up. "I'll be right back."
Amy watched Laura go up the stairs, and then come back down after a few minutes, carrying a blanket and what looked like a shoebox. Her natural curiosity awoke and she asked, "What's that?"
Laura settled back onto the couch before answering, draping the blanket over their legs, and taking the lid off the box. "Pictures of us that I keep meaning to put in an album." She took out an old photograph and handed it to Amy. It was one of her favorites.
Amy shook her head and smiled at the sight of the two little blonde girls, posing like would-be rock stars, grins as wide as their faces. "We really were complete dorks."
"Yeah, but it was okay because we had each other."
Amy rested her head on her big sister's shoulder. "We still do."
Laura stuck out her pinky and Amy linked her own pinky with hers in the age- old sign of loyalty. "Always."
~The End~
Song lyrics from Third Dog Night's Joy to the World