I was just browsing my documents and found this. It's not perfect, probably full of errors, but I wanted to post just cos. Hope it does something. It's slightly AU as it was written before Luc's last episode. I'm going to give a credit QuestionablyInsane for giving this a beta because I think they looked over it way back when. Disclaimer: Daughter owns the song lyrics in italics, and in the title. Beeb owns Holby. I own nothing.
I'm wasted, losing time
I'm a foolish, fragile spine
I want all that is not mine
I want him but we're not right...
What a mess I leave
To follow
His hand slid away from hers with a finality that made her stomach drop to her toes like a dead weight. Even as she walked to the car, eyes fixed straight ahead trying to channel the new found sense of determination since her brother had returned, she could still feel the tingle of his fingertips as they'd reluctantly brushed down her arm, desperately trying to keep a hold of her but failing.
When she got in the car Liam looked over, as if to check for any signs of weakness. She kept her focus to the front when he spoke.
"This is the right thing you know, coming with me. We can do this together just like we should've done before."
She nodded something hot and prickly stinging at the back of her eyes, wondering how much he said that for his benefit as well as hers. "Yeah" she choked "yeah, let's go and get my stuff."
OOO
Night had fallen and they were hurtling up the M1. There was silence inside the car: Liam was concentrating on the road ahead, she was sat quietly her head rested against the plastic facia near the seatbelt holder. She exhaled shakily trying to keep her breathing even, aware of the sweat collecting on her face and her vision blurring. The temptation to start outwardly fidgeting to disperse some of her agitation was great, but she didn't want to give herself away and risk some thinly disguised look of disappointment from her brother. Instead, she focussed on the monotonous pulse of the artificial amber lights that lined the motorway as they sped by. It was like a visual heartbeat: ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum. A particularly violent wave of dizziness hit her and her eyes fell shut as a counter action.
It was hot, in that suffocating way that kept a constant sheen of sweat on your skin, and sent every man and beast panting for breath to the nearest bar for a cold drink. Geographically she didn't know where she was exactly but her eyes told her it was a forest. It was somewhere off the tourist track, she had discovered it by accident in her bid to escape the smothering bustle, stench and suffering of the big city. Sao Paolo a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She was sure she'd been here, she could see everything so vividly but certain details felt vague hollow like she was living a retold story. She picked her way through dense overgrowth winding her way in and out of matchstick thin tree the sun flickering, teasing her as she did so. It was so beautiful to see such majestic bloom and greenness in somewhere so blisteringly hot. Everything was so bright and clear enhanced by the presence of so much light. The visual symphony was accompanied by an audio one of crickets or grasshoppers, singing, revelling in their habitat. A rustle from somewhere behind her, made her turn. There further back on the path was the outline of a figure, a man. He was stood completely still his hands hanging loosely at his sides. From his posture he looked resigned and defensive – not a threat to her. Suddenly, the cricket chorus changed, it was no longer an unformed noise but a word. She strained to make it out
"Why, why why why why?"
She was startled and hurried further along trying to get away from the man and the deafening noise chanting just one word, one question in her ear. She ran, stumbling a little over roots and the uneven surface of the forest floor she looked up to determine how far away she was from a clearing in the trees when the sun was suddenly blinding she screwed her eyes up and brought her hand to her face.
"Eddi" it was a whisper at first, it caressed her name so sweetly but so desperately too.
"Eddi." Firmer this time, the accent entirely different, "Eddi!"
She jolted awake. She was in the car the cab light had been switched on so Liam could see her better.
"Eddi, we're home. You fell asleep, come on, you don't look too good we should go in."
She blinked, disorientated and completely sent off kilter by the strange dream. She tried not to think who the man had been to prevent it from all becoming real, but her traitorous heart had already screamed his name at her.
She swallowed down all her apprehensions and followed her brother to her new, temporary home.
His flat was small, modest sparsely furnished with a dirty grey sofa, the walls were a pale blue with the odd poster hung up likely covering up marks stains or even holes. She dreaded to think.
"You must be tired you've not made any remark about having to have a gas mask just to get anywhere near the toilet. For your information it was cleaned 3 days ago so you're fine."
For that night she was just going crash on the sofa with a sleeping bag. When her nose wrinkled at the thought he reminded her of the alternative.
"My bed isn't as lucky the sheets must be at least a month old."
In the haze of withdrawal symptoms and fatigue she decided that she really didn't can and just trudged to the bathroom to change. She opened her bag and stared at the item on top.
"Why did you pack this?" She demanded, storming back into the living room, holding the incriminating item at him.
Liam blinked.
"It was in your locker you said to grab everything, so I did, what's the problem?"
"It's not mine" she explained through gritted teeth.
"Oh, right. But it's just a jumper, chuck it if you don't want it."
Just a jumper.
Just his jumper and all that was left of him now.
She was torn between diving into it and ripping it to shreds.
She settled for using it as a comforter, and easing her distress by picking at the threads. It smelt of the countryside and the cable knit was uncomfortable against her skin but it did seem to calm her. Liam left her to sleep, going into his room after saying that they'd go and see someone tomorrow.
"You don't look good..." he tried again.
"I'm fine." She dismissed, shutting her eyes in way of ending the conversation.
It was a while before she fell asleep this time, everything that had happened on a constant cycle in her mind.
"I'll never leave you again."
"Please stay."
The devastating look on his face when she ignored all instincts and chanced a final look at him. You almost made Liam stop the car right then, but
"That's what mum used to say."
"That's what mum used to say."
That'swhatmumusedtosay.Thatswhatmumusedtosay.
It was the only thing that had kept her in her seat.
That and the fact deep down she knew she had to do this for herself. He couldn't do it for her, no matter how much he wanted to, it was her problem, her addiction – not his. If she let him, it would be his work not hers. She needed to get herself sorted out in her own time, and on her own terms. That would likely mean excruciating meetings with Doctors and counsellors that she would hate every moment of:
That's what mum used to say.
But that is why she'd do it.
OOO
A week passed and it was the hardest week of her life.
She wasn't sure which she missed most: him or the drugs.
They were both just as lethal. They both consumed her and had reduced her to nothing more than a pale quivering wreck of pathetic need.
It was a month later when she received a text from Sacha, and mixed in with apologies and pleasantries were 5 words, the only 5 words that mattered. They pulled at her chest and she felt the colour drain from her face.
It looks like he's gone.
"Eddi, is everything alright? It's not bad news is it?"
Dr Green surveyed her from the chair opposite, she wasn't an average counsellor with a desk and clipboard. Desks, she said in their first meeting evoked childhood memories of headmasters' offices, and imposed barriers that shouldn't exist. We are equals, she had explained I am not superior or in any position of power over you. For someone who as a nurse heard all the typical overused and now meaningless catchphrases it was a refreshing change.
She hesitated wondering whether to bring him into this complicated web of family hurt and guilt when she realised that he was just as entangled.
"It depends really, it's quite a long story."
"Well in that case we might need some coffees."
OOO
Liam was a godsend. He was firm but reassuring. He didn't mollycoddle or smother or treat her like an unexploded bomb. He just was.
He made her a little cubby in the alcove end of his living space. He'd acquired a camp bed, rickety but still an improvement on the mouldy sofa. He'd also brought a screen, it was just plain wood but it did its job and provided her with some privacy. It wasn't ideal but it was okay for now. It reminded her that this situation was only temporary – she could get herself sorted out and then move on, start again.
She wouldn't go back to Holby. She had decided that when she'd left, a break was a break – you didn't retrace your steps.
At night she slept restlessly her dreams bizarre and vivid sometimes and completely silent at others. He featured often or at least she thought it was him but she never saw his face. But in the morning she'd always wake with a hollow feeling in her chest.
It was Sunday afternoon. Liam was attempting to make a roast dinner, she was exhausted and was laid on her bed the jumper arranged across her frame like a blanket. She'd seen the disapproval in her brother's eyes but he hadn't commented, maybe he thought it would be one request too much. Maybe he would be right.
A storm was rumbling outside, the wind and rain making its presence known with all the usual adjectives.
As she concentrated on the sounds around her, the clinking of pots, the weather outside, the setting changed, morphed into something else entirely until she was no longer in a poky little flat in Leeds. She wasn't sure where exactly, but near a hospital and in a poky tin box some on wheels some would call her.
Her eyes were shut but she knew she was there because she could hear the sound of the camping kettle whistling on the burner, announcing it had boiled and demanding attention. She could smell the faint scent of his deodorant on the scratchy blanket that covered her. She could hear the rain too, amplified on the aluminium roof it sounded like a mix between crackling bacon and coins in a money box. If she were to open her eyes she would see him, already dressed in his black jeans, a grey t-shirt and open light denim shirt on top, stood at the stove mashing tea for the both of them. He'd look up, realise she was watching him and smile.
"You're awake finally; I wondered how long it would be before I have to wake you up. You do have to do some work today you know."
She'd not be able to suppress her own smile finding it a catching thing, and reply with some quick comment, maybe sarcastic, maybe saucy she didn't know. He'd roll his eyes and reply in kind and then pass her the tea. She'd prop herself up on one arm, and accept the mug with a thank you to which he'd kiss her forehead and then sit at the table, on which lay a mass of papers she wouldn't even begin to ask about. She'd watch him for a while just sipping her tea, and enjoying the time before her shift would start and she'd enter the fray of cranky patients and trying doctors. But then, just then, there was peace and contentment – no concerns about her past or what the future would bring or petty little arguments between them. They just were.
When Liam shook her awake for her tea it felt like he had ripped her heart out. Of course it was a dream; peace like that only existed in dreams. All the way through the meal she had a sinking feeling in her stomach – she had never wanted something so much before. It had been real, tangible, she had felt it. She picked at her food which earned her a disgruntled "I've not poisoned it you know." She smiled weakly trying to sort through the mangle of conflicting emotions that raged inside her.
That night when she was back in her bed, the wind still on the warpath outside she tried to transport herself back to that place, one she wanted to get to eventually when she had truly conquered this addiction. She concentrated on the feeling that had so overwhelmed her at dinner, It had bubbled in her chest like nothing she'd ever felt before in her life, where only disappointment pain and empty promises had existed, and gave her a buzz more heady than any drug. Even despite everything that had passed, it made her believe that they might be able to share moments where cutting words and hasty reactions didn't ruin and scar. It even gave her the courage to utter his name; it no longer stuck in her throat like a bitter pill she could not choke down.
It had given her hope.
Luc gave her hope.
So we'll just keep each other as safe as we can
Until we reach the border
Until we make our plan...
...Will you stay with me, my love
'Till we're old and gray?
I don't want to be alone
When these bones decay