A/N: Ownership: I don't own Glee copyrights. I have tonnes of dvd's, cd's, paraphernalia which includes my Intellectual Property of Imagination.
I'm Australian, this has all great inspiration from our lovely island. This is a story of fiction, at places that are not.
I Want this to be an independent story, for the moment I'm going to publish here under our great love of Glee. However, as my baby, please substitute the following, and change to the cast mentioned.
Trigger Warning: Drug use scene, which is part of the story, and not recommended to copy. And as for the first aid mentioned, I'm not sure how much would work, so poetic licence and adjusting of reality, is what fiction consists of too.
Kurt - Scott, played by a very young Richard Gere.
Tina - Claire, played by Scarlett Johansen. ~ Blaine - Paul, played by Andy Garcia.
Every story needs some original characters, *Harley - played by Ashton Kutcher. *Charlie - played by a very young Kevin Kline. ~ Rachel - Charlotte, played by Makyla Smith.
Sebastian - Jaxon, played by Fabrizio Filippo. ~ *Isabelle – played by Rachelle Lefevre.
~ Read, enjoy ~
~ Travelling the White Line ~
Chapter Eight.
Two short weeks.
Isabelle sits at her kitchen table. Breakfast finished, cooked, enjoyed and finished. Finished once more, till the next time.
Should there be a next time? Is it worth doing all over again?
Just like this relationship, should it continue? Is it worth any of her time? It seems to be like it was, back then when it became too much. But back then, it ended because of a third party, who just happened to interrupt.
This time, her gut tells her to get out. He still drinks heavily, actually the heavy drinking is what keeps him sober. He still smokes the vile cigarettes and holds her possessively.
The smoking disgusts her, and now there is a new complication, two new additions to the equation.
She holds the phone, thinking of their last phone call. "Why can't you hear what I'm saying? Why don't you listen?" She said quietly to him.
"Why did you leave me?" He asks quietly too.
Should she just come out and tell him, over the phone. In a manner where they can't see each other's reactions, and read more body language required than just hearing a voice, trying to relay emotions.
Eventually she does tell him, and he bites back with childish barbs about her.
But the two new additions can not be ignored, her behaviour of them annoyed him to a level of heightened annoyance.
She can't accept what the universe is telling her, these reasons for ending a relationship are getting magnified as the morning wears on.
Smoking, the filth and ill health that comes with that, now including using the toilet seat to butt out on. The flavour of his kisses, violated taste buds, making his violent kisses unacceptable.
She'd read of delicate sweet kisses from Blaine, Kurt and amusingly a character named Sebastian. That's what she wanted, the love, romance and sweet passionate, violent, demanding kisses. But they would never come, not without the disgusting flavour of his other mouth accompaniments.
Drinking, strong alcohol. Alcohol watered down with milk and excuses upon excuses of its necessity. So much drinking than before, now this is what keeps him somewhat sober. But this time, is clearer than before. This time the evidence of memory lapses and behavioural changes and mental abuse, is stronger, louder, more hurtful.
Isabelle clasps her hands in prayer, "Lord, what am I to do?" She asks aloud but with a gentle voice.
Picking up a book, she reads of the lover holding the other's face in a cupping fashion. They look in to one another's eyes, questioning, pleading, wondering, seeking permission.
He leans in tentatively, and stops just before her lips. She hitches her breath, feeling the heat radiating from him across her being, warming her heart. His breath is clean and perfect, no trace of his previous girlfriend.
His previous girlfriend that he left apparently weeks ago, but keeps coming up in conversation.
He is one of God's children, sons, her Christian brother. She wants to give herself to him, look after him, out of respect for her Father.
Exhausted of negative energy, she leans back in her breakfast chair and surveys the room. Before anything drastic, she'll have to clean the dishes up. Tidy the house all over, clean the litter tray of her kitty. The birds and dog will need attending to, as well.
"I might as well vacuum. Tidy bookcases, wipe dust, pay bills and finish ….." She comments to herself as she walks about her home. Peering outside, the garden is overgrown of excess plants, weeds, rubbish.
The neighbours music blares through the fence, over and around the barbecue and pool decking. The pool decking catches her mind, and throws her to a beloved scenery of yesterday.
Sunshine warm days, days of security. Sebastian and her grandparents had provided exactly the childhood and life all children craved. Anything she wanted, was given to her. No emotional strings attached. Provided with love and responsibility to help her grow in to a person of strength.
The pool was inviting, beckoning all to join in. Watching the others enjoying their turns at body shots, watching others shooting up. It was all good fun, relaxing and safe.
It was her turn, she leaned over him, grabbed her syringe and sat back down. He sat up, placed her between his legs, his hands on her hips. "Baby, you're gonna love this." Words that should have been a warning, but instead invited her to take up his challenge. His challenge, constantly challenging her since they began that crazy relationship.
He watched as she shot up, removed the tourniquet for her, and cradled her in to his being. Leaning back, pulling her tighter in to his embrace, wrapping his legs around her, holding her firm, in her first trip.
That first shot, was such a long time ago, many, many years ago.
And after so many close calls to death, she feels her nine lives of a cat existence is fast running out.
Going back to the breakfast table, she picks up the dishes and clears them. Turns the heating off, secures the front door, makes a cuppa. Tea this time, unexpected flavours to compliment the tablets in her hand.
The kettle boils and she puts the tablets in her pocket as she makes the drink.
Stirring, memories of how great a lover and cook he was, is, always will be. But now, her heart is beginning to accept that being alone, empty, unhappy and alone, might be a better choice than being together. Empty, unhappy and alone, together with verbal, not loud, just verbal abuse.
A relationship that involves too many hurdles and egg shells, too many obstacles that she is just not strong enough to fight, not any more.
Not for him, not for God, not for the love of the Lord. No her decision is sad, but made.
As she drinks down the hot drink, hot liquid, spiked with bitter pills, no tears come, no sadness, nothing. No emotions equal in words, necessary to describe her resolve.
She makes her way back to bed.
She rings Sebastian, "Hi Sebastian," she speaks to his answering machine, "I'm just crashing for a few hours. I've had a long and hard thought. And ….." hesitating a moment, knowing that he'll be happy with this decision but not wanting him to gloat. "I've decided to end it with …. Please don't show how happy you are, not just yet."
"I kind of need to hear reassuring words of support, more than you saying how right you are. I …." She looks at the tablets on the side table, certain that she'd already taken them, but maybe she hadn't? "I've taken a sleeping tablet, 'cause I've not been able to sleep. So if you come by, I won't be able to hear you come in."
Walking to the kitchen, she pours some juice and downs the tablets. "Daddy, I love you. And what's say at the end of the week, we go on that trip you wanted to?"
Back in her room, rugging up under heavy blankets, she leans her head on an angle and pulls the photo of Sebastian to her. "Okay, well the answering machine isn't saying anything great back to me, so I'll just let you know I love you and am looking to spending more time with you. …. Okay, um, for some reason I really want to hear your voice again." The pills she took half an hour before her breakfast are starting to effect her and she feels sad. "Seb, Bas baby, …" sigh "how about you make a recording for me, and then I could …. jush play it when I want and need to…." A few moments pass, she nods off and back awake again, "ooops sorry, going to hang up now."
"Love you Daddy. Mwah" Finally she turns the phone off, turns the volume down and puts it on the side table.
Propping up the photo of Sebastian, on an angle to look into his eyes, while she lies her head down.
She blinks a few times and feels her self medication helping her. Helping her to finally get some sleep and relaxation.
Her dreams take her to pleasant places, memories of good, memories of not so good.
She feels Sebastian lift her, holding her close to his body. His body so warm and delightful, but also sad and sobbing and not being still.
Opening her eyes, Sebastian is speaking, but she can't make out what he's saying. His face is tortured with tears and kisses to her cheeks and forehead.
She feels a sting on her cheek, and tries to mumble for him to calm down.
Her face crumples up and she's now aware that the pulsing of her own heart beat, that was so excruciatingly loud, beating in time with the veins and arteries of her body, is now exceptionally quiet. And her lungs are still, her mind is loud with the ambulance approach and Sebastian holding her tight.
Sebastian moves back so that the Ambos can take over. He stands with his back pushed hard against the wall. Looking down at his beautiful Isabelle apparently deathly unconscious with two Ambos working at bringing her back to life.
They apply necessary cpr, check her blood pressure and do a mouth swab to determine what drugs are in her system. The swab comes back with a reading to help them determine what next drug to administer and reverse her back to the land of the living.
The drug is placed under her tongue and after a few minutes of waiting, they check her vital signs again. The next drug is administered straight in to a blood line that goes straight to the heart.
Necessary observations are made, and cpr resumes. "She's still with us." They tell Sebastian, and he's relieved with cupping his mouth with a hand. He sobs and wipes his forehead.
His eyes appreciative and they load her on to a trolley and take her out to the ambulance. He follows, turning off lights and shutting doors behind him.
He sees them secure her in the back, they turn on their lights and sirens and make for the hospital.
He gets in to his car, getting ready to follow.
He sends a text message, 'She's going to be alright. You'd better not make contact with her again.'
The necessary intention of 'if you want to live', doesn't need to be added.
Sebastian knows the recipient will have got the message.
Rattled, but knowing she's fine, now, he follows the path the ambulance have taken.
Extra kute author notes: Drug use and overdoses happen, the world over. Drugs of whatever description, and abuse happen, no one of any specific socio-economic lifestyle is immune to this.
This isn't supposed to be a grandstanding, I'm just stating the obvious.