Author's Note: I know that the lack of updates may have seemed like I
abandoned my fics, but believe me, I haven't, nor have any plans of doing
so. My da passed away recently, and for a while, I sank into this black
hole of grief. Frankly, sometimes it still feels like I am still free-
falling down that hole, not knowing if I will land on my feet or fall on my
knees. My da held on for almost two years, fighting for his life valiantly.
In the end, though, he wasn't ours to keep. In some ways, I knew that we
were going to lose him, but part of me still waited for that one miracle
that never came. I guess---Well, I suppose that we ran out of miracles. He
already survived 2 tours of duty in 'Nam (way before I was born!) and a
heart attack in 1997, and I guess God decided that he wanted my da with
him. I'm not really, religious, but I'd like to believe there is a Heaven,
and that my da is there.
Please, I urge you---tell your loved ones you love them. Don't take anything for granted. You will never know what you have until it's gone or until you're on the brink of losing it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing when it comes to Disney and "So Weird"
The expansive Colorado sky was ensconced in vibrant hues of pink, purple and blue, and yet all a sad sapphire-eyed young man could see was the darkness it was once encased in, the darkness that was slowly fading away. He had been there for hours, curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, not quite knowing where he was, or what he wanted to do, much less what he was doing at the moment. All he wanted to do was to escape. Run away. Be alone.
Absently, almost mechanically, Clu picked up a rock that lay on the rich red earth beneath him. Holding it in his cold hands, Clu felt a sense of irrational jealousy and camaraderie towards the oddly-shaped mineral.
"I wish I was more like you, my rock dude friend," Clu whispered, so softly that he could scarcely hear himself. "Not like some, I dunno, beach or something that just floooooows!"
Last night was sort of like this one big blur, and that was exactly the way he liked it. He had been out at some frat party, fleetingly erasing his problems with Kool menthols and funnels of Samuel Adams. For those few precious hours he spent in a state of euphoric intoxication, he was able to forget. Thoughts about Carey and his parents and the whole damn world that conspired against him , were forgotten. For those precious hours, he was able to occupy himself with the things he could actually control, like the number of beers he could drink, and the number of cigarettes he could chain- smoke in five minutes flat.
True, drinking and smoking had always been a no-no for him, but last night, Clu decided they were the perfect companions. Actually, Clu decided, he was beginning to see why people his age enjoyed both.
Clu smiled ironically as he thought of his chemical-free years, and, turning to his new rock friend, said, "Dude, you know, if you think about it, I actually missed out on a lot! Nothing wrong with drinking! Nothing wrong with smoking, right? Heck, I'm legally allowed to smoke in this country. And in Europe, I can drink!"
Clu lay back on the ground, one arm cradling his throbbing head while the other hung on tightly to his newfound friend. He could vaguely see the faint outline of the rising sun over the horizon, and Clu felt a sudden sense of anger that the comforting darkness had ebbed away.
Clu let his thoughts drift off once again, only this time they settled on less pleasurable ones, namely his parents. Heck, he didn't even know that they were still awake. Ned and Irene were one of those cool, lenient parents who believed that trust went both ways. They were the type of parents who gave their children freedom, yet still kept them at bay. Unfortunately, Clu supposed, that coolness and leniency vanished *that* night.
His mum had actually morphed into that scary, neurotic "7th Heaven" mum--- Annie Camden or something or other---, and Clu almost laughed at the thought of his dad possibly pulling a Reverend Eric Camden. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't much of a stretch; the Reverend Camden played in a band during his younger years, and well, wasn't his dad the head roadie for the Molly Phillips tour? Yep, he might as well call himself Matt Camden now. Although, he had to admit, that dude had more hair issues that he possibly could or would.
Sighing deeply, Clu closed his eyes, willing himself to forget, once again. He knew he couldn't possibly drink or smoke his waking hours away, but there's much to be said about sleeping. Maybe, just maybe, he could sleep his life away. In the realm of sleep, maybe things would be okay. Maybe.
On the other side of the city, a green-eyed redhead named Caledonia found herself being the unwilling recipient of a death ray, courtesy of a pair of icy-cold blue eyes. Trying to avert her gaze from the young man's intense stare-down, Cale found herself wondering whether or not it would be possible for her to run the opposite direction, away from this particular patient.
"Give me three good reasons why I can't," the blonde man across from her demanded, arms folded across his chest defiantly. "You medical types told me my hands would be immobile for at least a month, but lookie here, they move!" To illustrate his point, he pumped his fist into the air wildly.
Cale took a step back, not wanting any further demonstration that would commence with her having a black eye or broken bones. "Uh, Mr. Bell, I'm, uh---glad?---that, you can move your hands. Really, I am. But, uh---your doctors? They said that you shouldn't try to move your legs under any circumstance. You could damage it further. So I suggest---"
"To heck with what you medical people think!" Carey bellowed, roughly peeling off the flimsey hospital sheets away from his legs. "You were wrong about the arms, and I know you're wrong about the legs. Now, GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
Cale closed her eyes and reminded herself that all student nurses go through *difficult* patients once in a while. "Mr. Bell, it would be imprudent---"
Carey ignored her completely and grunted as he used his upper body strength to ease his lower body into the cold, grungy-looking hospital floors. His face reddened and perspired at the effort, but he could feel in his gut that he would be able to walk. One step and soon he would be---
"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
Pain surged through Carey's entire body like a thousand coal-broiled pokers poked repeatedly through his legs, and he fell on a heap on the floor. "Blast this crap!"
Cale rushed to Carey, silently trying to help him sit back on the bed, but Carey roughly pushed her hand away like some offensive bug.
"I don't need your help!" Carey rasped, trying to hold onto the little shred of dignity he had. "Go away!"
"Carey!"
Carey froze from his decidedly unflattering position on the floor as his gaze met those of a fawn-eyed young woman.
"Fiona,"
He meant it as a question, but it came out as a soft, strangled cry.
"Carey, let me help you," Fi said, walking over and kneeling down to where Carey was. Her soft, small hands held his bigger ones in a surprisingly strong grip. "Here, lean on me, and let's get you on the bed."
Carey nodded mutely as Fi and Cale helped him stand up, albeit unsteadily, then gingerly settled him to the bed. "Fi."
Fi merely smiled, fluffing his pillows, before slowly cradling his head down to the pillow. Her eyes never left his, even as she gently pulled the sheets so that they covered Carey from the air conditioned room.
"Fi." Carey repeated, not quite believing his eyes. Not quite believing that she was really there. Here. With him. Holding his hand.
"I'm here, Carey," Fi whispered softly into his forehead as she kissed him there. "I came back for you."
Author's Note: That little passage about Clu in the beginning was a bit odd; I tried to portray him as slowly coming undone, but I am not sure I did a good job at it. Please---if any of you have any comments or suggestions or ideas or whatever, do feel free to drop me a line. It's rockerbaby2000@usa.com. I will be posting up a couple of new chapters in about two weeks, after my finals are done with.
Please, I urge you---tell your loved ones you love them. Don't take anything for granted. You will never know what you have until it's gone or until you're on the brink of losing it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing when it comes to Disney and "So Weird"
The expansive Colorado sky was ensconced in vibrant hues of pink, purple and blue, and yet all a sad sapphire-eyed young man could see was the darkness it was once encased in, the darkness that was slowly fading away. He had been there for hours, curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, not quite knowing where he was, or what he wanted to do, much less what he was doing at the moment. All he wanted to do was to escape. Run away. Be alone.
Absently, almost mechanically, Clu picked up a rock that lay on the rich red earth beneath him. Holding it in his cold hands, Clu felt a sense of irrational jealousy and camaraderie towards the oddly-shaped mineral.
"I wish I was more like you, my rock dude friend," Clu whispered, so softly that he could scarcely hear himself. "Not like some, I dunno, beach or something that just floooooows!"
Last night was sort of like this one big blur, and that was exactly the way he liked it. He had been out at some frat party, fleetingly erasing his problems with Kool menthols and funnels of Samuel Adams. For those few precious hours he spent in a state of euphoric intoxication, he was able to forget. Thoughts about Carey and his parents and the whole damn world that conspired against him , were forgotten. For those precious hours, he was able to occupy himself with the things he could actually control, like the number of beers he could drink, and the number of cigarettes he could chain- smoke in five minutes flat.
True, drinking and smoking had always been a no-no for him, but last night, Clu decided they were the perfect companions. Actually, Clu decided, he was beginning to see why people his age enjoyed both.
Clu smiled ironically as he thought of his chemical-free years, and, turning to his new rock friend, said, "Dude, you know, if you think about it, I actually missed out on a lot! Nothing wrong with drinking! Nothing wrong with smoking, right? Heck, I'm legally allowed to smoke in this country. And in Europe, I can drink!"
Clu lay back on the ground, one arm cradling his throbbing head while the other hung on tightly to his newfound friend. He could vaguely see the faint outline of the rising sun over the horizon, and Clu felt a sudden sense of anger that the comforting darkness had ebbed away.
Clu let his thoughts drift off once again, only this time they settled on less pleasurable ones, namely his parents. Heck, he didn't even know that they were still awake. Ned and Irene were one of those cool, lenient parents who believed that trust went both ways. They were the type of parents who gave their children freedom, yet still kept them at bay. Unfortunately, Clu supposed, that coolness and leniency vanished *that* night.
His mum had actually morphed into that scary, neurotic "7th Heaven" mum--- Annie Camden or something or other---, and Clu almost laughed at the thought of his dad possibly pulling a Reverend Eric Camden. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't much of a stretch; the Reverend Camden played in a band during his younger years, and well, wasn't his dad the head roadie for the Molly Phillips tour? Yep, he might as well call himself Matt Camden now. Although, he had to admit, that dude had more hair issues that he possibly could or would.
Sighing deeply, Clu closed his eyes, willing himself to forget, once again. He knew he couldn't possibly drink or smoke his waking hours away, but there's much to be said about sleeping. Maybe, just maybe, he could sleep his life away. In the realm of sleep, maybe things would be okay. Maybe.
On the other side of the city, a green-eyed redhead named Caledonia found herself being the unwilling recipient of a death ray, courtesy of a pair of icy-cold blue eyes. Trying to avert her gaze from the young man's intense stare-down, Cale found herself wondering whether or not it would be possible for her to run the opposite direction, away from this particular patient.
"Give me three good reasons why I can't," the blonde man across from her demanded, arms folded across his chest defiantly. "You medical types told me my hands would be immobile for at least a month, but lookie here, they move!" To illustrate his point, he pumped his fist into the air wildly.
Cale took a step back, not wanting any further demonstration that would commence with her having a black eye or broken bones. "Uh, Mr. Bell, I'm, uh---glad?---that, you can move your hands. Really, I am. But, uh---your doctors? They said that you shouldn't try to move your legs under any circumstance. You could damage it further. So I suggest---"
"To heck with what you medical people think!" Carey bellowed, roughly peeling off the flimsey hospital sheets away from his legs. "You were wrong about the arms, and I know you're wrong about the legs. Now, GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
Cale closed her eyes and reminded herself that all student nurses go through *difficult* patients once in a while. "Mr. Bell, it would be imprudent---"
Carey ignored her completely and grunted as he used his upper body strength to ease his lower body into the cold, grungy-looking hospital floors. His face reddened and perspired at the effort, but he could feel in his gut that he would be able to walk. One step and soon he would be---
"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
Pain surged through Carey's entire body like a thousand coal-broiled pokers poked repeatedly through his legs, and he fell on a heap on the floor. "Blast this crap!"
Cale rushed to Carey, silently trying to help him sit back on the bed, but Carey roughly pushed her hand away like some offensive bug.
"I don't need your help!" Carey rasped, trying to hold onto the little shred of dignity he had. "Go away!"
"Carey!"
Carey froze from his decidedly unflattering position on the floor as his gaze met those of a fawn-eyed young woman.
"Fiona,"
He meant it as a question, but it came out as a soft, strangled cry.
"Carey, let me help you," Fi said, walking over and kneeling down to where Carey was. Her soft, small hands held his bigger ones in a surprisingly strong grip. "Here, lean on me, and let's get you on the bed."
Carey nodded mutely as Fi and Cale helped him stand up, albeit unsteadily, then gingerly settled him to the bed. "Fi."
Fi merely smiled, fluffing his pillows, before slowly cradling his head down to the pillow. Her eyes never left his, even as she gently pulled the sheets so that they covered Carey from the air conditioned room.
"Fi." Carey repeated, not quite believing his eyes. Not quite believing that she was really there. Here. With him. Holding his hand.
"I'm here, Carey," Fi whispered softly into his forehead as she kissed him there. "I came back for you."
Author's Note: That little passage about Clu in the beginning was a bit odd; I tried to portray him as slowly coming undone, but I am not sure I did a good job at it. Please---if any of you have any comments or suggestions or ideas or whatever, do feel free to drop me a line. It's rockerbaby2000@usa.com. I will be posting up a couple of new chapters in about two weeks, after my finals are done with.