Inspired by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs- Maps.
Written very fast, with very little revision and editing. All mistakes, crappy grammar, crappy sentences and just shitness in general are my own fault. If you don't find any of those (but you probably will) leave a review. And listen to The Yeah Yeah Yeahs...and Megan Washington and First Aid Kit while you're at it.
"Oh Cal, don't be ridiculous, Emily and her boyfriend just broke up. She could use her father right now, go home be with her instead of getting drunk and chasing around this Carmen or Carla or Carrie or whatever the hell her name is."
It's dark, only a few lights remain on in the hallway, casting just enough light so that Cal and Gillian can see each others faces clearly.
Even though they're standing at different ends of the hall she can see his drawn together eyebrows, his upturned lip. He's pissed and she realises she's gone the wrong way about this, bringing up Emily and his parenting skills.
Gillian sighs. She had so badly not wanted to get into a fight tonight. Lately they fight about everything. Tonight though, she just needs him to understand, needs him to stay.
He's waiting for her to respond to his increasingly more violent expression, but she can't put words to her desperation.
"So you think you know what my daughter needs of me do ya, Foster? Fancy yourself a parent?"
She's stunned by such a personal attack. Her mouth refuses to open in response. The hurt inside is too much.
Fuck off, she thinks. She doesn't vocalize her thoughts though. She'd like to think she could take control of the situation right now, Gillian Foster renowned psychologist and all that. She's an independent woman. Well, she should be, but she loses herself with Cal, she does stupid things for Cal.
She lies to the police for Cal.
"I'll tell you what, love, " it's sarcastic, it's brutal, " I'm gonna go out and have a good time and you can go find my daughter who is perfectly fine after she dumped her boyfriend."
He turns and walks away, his fading footsteps signaling the end of their conversation.
"I know her name is Carmen, Cal. Of course I know the woman you've been chasing all week is called Carmen," her words come out stronger than expected, perhaps she can count a minor victory.
It's a statement that comes out of nowhere and Cal turns in curiosity. He walks back and once again manages to crowd her in the almost deserted hallway. She feels herself losing what little confidence she had.
He still doesn't understand, though. It's written all over her face, it has been the entire time.
Cal Lightman can read anyone, he can read her; but he's not looking, he's not interested.
"Foster, why are you so desperate for me not to go out with Carmen?" his voice isn't sensitive, it's gruff; he's asked the obvious question but he's not looking for an answer.
She's never felt more defeated than she does right at that moment. He's not willing to understand, he doesn't care. She's done everything for him, saved him from himself, practically sacrificed herself for him and he doesn't fucking care.
Anger begins to rise within her. And she's never felt a stronger emotion; anger gives her back her voice. Anger gives her back her strength.
He's leaving, again but he will not be the one to decide this conversation is over, she grabs his shoulder and spins him around to her.
She's near hysterical, eyes darting over his face. He can tell because it's the first time he's really looked at her all night.
"Carmen… Wolowski, Clara, none of them Cal," tears pool in her eyes as she pounds her fists on his chest, her voice raised, "none of them, they…they don't love you like I love you."
She's so entirely desperate and she's so entirely angry. But then his eyes flash with…comprehension, and suddenly, she's entirely hopeful.