As usual, I've tried to fix all my typos, but there's most likely still some lurking which I have missed.
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The winter weather was quickly driving me crazy. Despite only having two days off a week, I was bored in the evenings when Carlisle didn't come home until late, and spending all day by myself was becoming old. On the first sunny day in weeks, I threw open all the windows, wanting the stale air out and letting the coolness of outside wash in.
I wasn't one for cleaning, normally, but at the first hint of spring, I was dragging out the vacuum. I didn't think anything of the commotion I was making until my boyfriend came home from work at eight o'clock. He was bemused as he watched me, standing in the kitchen and clutching the bag of takeaways.
"Since when do you clean?" he asked, letting me kiss him once I was close enough.
I took the food out of his hands. "I'm not always disgusting. Thanks for getting dinner."
Laughing, he just shook his head as I grabbed out our plates. "I don't think 'spring cleaning' should be taken literally, Garrett. You've still got a month to go, anyway," he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "I want to get new curtains."
He shoved a forkful of chinese into his mouth to try and stop himself laughing. It almost worked. Almost. "Home decorating?"
"Sort of, I guess, though I can't actually do anything seeming as we don't own the house. Will you come choose the fabric with me?"
"It's your house, Gar, I don't care what fabric we use to block out the light." Although he was still amused, my smile started to fade a little.
I tried to pretend that him referring to it as 'my' home instead of 'ours' didn't sting, but I couldn't move past it; we'd lived together for months, split all the bills equally and both took care of what little property upkeep had to be done. It was his place as much as mine, I'd just lived here longer. I really didn't like him feeling like he was staying in someone else's house, but I didn't know what to say about it, keeping my mouth shut about it instead; this wasn't the first time he'd mentioned it. "You trust my colour coordination skills that much?" I asked instead, forcing a smile.
He condescendingly patted my hand on the table top. "I'm sure you can decide on a shade of beige by yourself...I'll come if it means that much to you, though..." Offering a shy smile, he glanced up so our eyes met.
I threaded our fingers together, squeezing his hand. "I'd like that a lot."
We finished our food in almost-silence, showering together before falling into bed. I locked my arms around his chest, craving the intimacy. Although we used the same soap, he smelt good, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, kissing his neck. His fingertips lightly brushed over my forearm as he leaned back into me.
"Our invitation to Edward and Bella's wedding came today," he mumbled, fighting falling asleep.
Groaning, I wrapped myself around him a little more. They had been nice enough to include my name on the envelope, but I still hadn't shaken the feeling of being an imposter whenever I was with Carlisle's friends. It must have been the same feeling he got around my family, so I couldn't complain about it. "Okay."
The word 'wedding' was enough to provoke a bit of anxiety in me. Despite the progress I'd made, group meals like that were still a nightmare, and I didn't really appreciate the dress code, either. My brother's wedding had been down right torture, despite the ceremony being lovely, and I'd never been more pleased to leave an event. It made me sound like an asshole, but it is what it is.
Sensing my discomfort, Carlisle rolled over to face me. He wrapped his arms around me, teasing the small of my back with his fingertips. "We can just go to the ceremony, we don't have to stay for the after party," he assured me softly.
I shook my head. "No, they're your friends. I'm not ruining this. I can suck it up long enough to have dinner." I hope.
"You won't be ruining anything." He kissed me gently, slipping his knees between mine to get closer as he leaned his cheek against my collarbone. "As long as we go to the important bit, it'll be fine."
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I was almost glad to be going to work the next morning, just so I had something to do, but boredom wasn't quiet as bad as dealing with my boss. I was already running late, speeding out of the driveway in a hurry. It didn't take long for me to get stuck in traffic on the freeway, though, and I quickly zoned out.
The impact against the back of my car scared the absolute shit out of me, and I was thrown forward in my seat. My seatbelt constricted around me at the abrupt shock, digging into my torso before slamming me back against my seat. The airbag deployed a second later, covering the inside of my car with white powder.
I couldn't breathe, gasping for breath as the violence of it winded me. My head was swimming, and I was barely aware that someone had just hit me from behind. Coughing and coughing and coughing, I tried to get my lungs to stop burning, my hands shaking as I unlocked my seatbelt.
My ears were ringing and it was all very surreal. Someone interrupted me, banging loudly on my window. "Are you okay? The paramedics are on their way," they shouted to me through the glass.
I nodded, slowly opening my door to get out. People were standing around staring, and I realised there were more than a few cars involved - a nose-to-tail incident. Thank god it hadn't been at speed.
My legs were too wobbly to walk very far, and I was dizzy, so I just sat on the curb and kept my head between my knees. Nothing really hurt that much, but there was a lump in my throat anyway. I was semi-aware of the fuss going on around me; people complaining and stressed that we were stuck for now, and I wanted all of them to shut up so I could think straight.
A few minutes later, someone crouched in front of me. Their uniform indicated that they were the aforementioned medics. "Are you alright? What's your name?"
"...Garrett Parker...I-I'm fine, I think…" I stammered. My voice sounded hollow in my ears.
"Can you stand up? Let's get you into the ambulance, and we can do a full assessment there, maybe get some pain relief into you, yeah?"
"No- I'm not hurt, I'll just go home," I argued. The fuss didn't make sense to me, until I glanced up and realised that a few people did actually seem to be hurt.
He ignored me, helping me to my feet and to the emergency vehicle anyway. There was far too much poking and proding before they decided that I wasn't injured badly enough to require going to hospital.
Their faith in me didn't last long; as I stepped out of the ambulance, my legs collapsed out from under me, and suddenly I was on the pavement again. It only resulted in them hauling me back in the door with renewed insistence that I go to the emergency room.
"I-I just want to go home...please…" I pleaded with them, starting to become nervous as the shock wore off. I really wanted Carlisle, but my phone was still in my car, and they weren't about to let me get it. It made not crying really fucking hard, as embarrassing as it was to be so upset over something so minor.
They argued with me about it, and I was getting more and more worked up, trying to force myself to calm down before I made a scene, or further convinced them that there was something wrong with me.
They were somewhat ignoring me now; some girl had come in bleeding and was clearly in more of a state than I was. The next person who paid any attention to me was a police officer, intent of dragging out my very limited understanding of what had happened in agonising detail. He was a little more sympathetic, though. "You might be stuck here a while, did you want me to call someone for you?" he asked kindly.
"...my partner...please…" I recited his phone number, hoping like hell that Carlisle actually answered his phone; he would be involved in something by this time of the morning, and if he was behind the counter, he wouldn't have his phone on him.
Thankfully, it only took a few seconds before the officer was talking to someone, and I didn't really care if it was my boyfriend or Sue; either way, he'd get the message. He was obviously thrown by my 'partner' being a guy, and it would have been funny if the circumstances were different. "He's on his way," he promised. "Are you okay sitting here by yourself?"
I nodded, not really able to talk past the lump in my throat. I managed to hold back the tears until he'd left me alone, but I still wasn't entirely sure why I was crying in the first place; nothing hurt that badly, and I wasn't so anxious now that my boyfriend was coming, but I couldn't stop it anyway. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to focus on taking deep breaths. My ribs were a bit sore from the force of the seatbelt which made it a little harder. It wasn't the end of the world.
I wasn't really aware of time passing until a hand was gently placed on my shoulder, and I glanced up at Carlisle as he crouched in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his eyes dark with worry.
I nodded, but it can't have been very convincing at this point. "...happy you're here…"
"Are you hurt, though?" He kissed my cheek as I told him I wasn't, moving to sit on the bench next to me. "Do you know if you have to go to hospital?"
"...just want to go home…" I mumbled to him, leaning against him as he carefully wrapped his arm around me. My head was starting to hurt and I was getting quite nauseous, but I knew if I threw up they would definitely send me up to the emergency unit. The dizziness didn't help.
"You're very pale," he murmured, pressing his hand against my forehead. I knew I didn't have a fever; I was quite cold, really.
"...think I'm going to be sick…" It was a warning, if nothing else.
He stood up, picking up one of the sick-bags they kept - if there was one place to vomit, it may as well be in an ambulance. "Lie down; I don't want you to pass out." He guided me to lie with my head in his lap, gently rubbing circles against the small of my back.
"...my back hurts…" I whined quietly. The longer they gave me to think about it, the more aches and pains I noticed. It wasn't agony, though, and there wasn't really a point in telling anyone else.
He paused, drawing his hand back. "Do you want me to stop?"
"...no…"
"Okay, should I tell one of the medics?"
"...just stay for a bit," I pleaded, tightening my fingers around his free hand. I couldn't really think straight, but being close to him was helping. It seemed like an eternity before anyone came to see us again, but Carlisle squeezed my shoulder when one of the paramedics jumped up into the back door. I forced myself to sit up and be a little more coherent. "Can I go home?" Short of grovelling to them, I was losing my patience.
The woman frowned, glancing at Carlisle and the way I held his hand. "Do you two live together?"
My boyfriend nodded, absentmindedly rubbing my shoulder as he recited our address. After what felt like hours of debate, she relented and let me go, too busy with more serious cases to care. She made Carlisle promise to send me to the emergency room the minute anything went wrong, but I was just glad to be out of there.
The world spun as I got to my feet, and I leaned against my boyfriend to keep my balance. "Careful," he murmured to me, holding my waist. I waited until I'd gotten a grip before I tried to get out of the ambulance, not wanting a repeat of last time.
We quickly discovered another problem; we were going to have to get the car out of this mess somehow. The only option we had was to hope it still goes and drive it home, but I wasn't in any hurry to get back behind the wheel. I didn't want to have to sit in a car at all, really, but it was a damn site better than walking, so I didn't have a choice.
Carlisle took my keys from me, and I tried not to look at the damage as I climbed into the passenger's seat. Sitting down aggravated the pain in my back, and I gritted my teeth to hold back a complaint. I gripped the sick-bag, hoping the queasy feeling in my stomach might subside soon; my poor car didn't need to be crashed into and thrown up in on the same day.
Thankfully, it started without a problem as he turned the key in the ignition. Something that wasn't supposed to be rattling was making a bit of noise, but no alerts flashed up on the dashboard; it was a good thing I'd been hit from behind. Whatever was under the bonnet had been fairly protected, so at least all the important bits were working.
Something metallic scraped against the curb as Carlisle backed away from it, and I groaned. He glanced over at me, confused. "Are you okay?"
"That sounds expensive," I grumbled, more concerned about my car than anything else at this point.
"You've got a pretty decent dent in the back," he admitted. "But at least it starts, right?"
I nodded, wincing as the motion hurt my neck. "Yeah, I'm just glad I was where I was; any further back and I'd have been in trouble…"
"You're going to have to be careful with yourself for the next few days." Running my leg, he squeezed my thigh gently.
"My boss will have to give me time off now." I hoped he would, anyway. My bad mood grew as Carlisle picked up my phone off the floor and set in on my lap. The screen was shattered from being tossed forward, and despite being fully charged, it refused to turn on. Fuck.
"We'll sort it out, Garrett. Don't worry about it now." He took my hand, fighting to get my car out of the tight gap it's been wedged into between the mass of other cars.
I couldn't afford to be buying a new phone while I needed to fix my car, but it couldn't be helped right now.
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Home had never looked so good. The motion of driving was making the nausea unbearable, and I was fighting vomiting. I really didn't feel good as I got out of the car, needing to brace myself against my door to keep my balance.
"Hey...careful," Carlisle murmured to me, shoving the keys into his pocket so that he could hold onto me. I was a little steadier with his hands on me, managing to survive the elevator ride up to our apartment floor. He promised to get me painkillers, and I sat on the couch.
Wanting the room to stop spinning, I leaned forward, bracing my elbows against my knees and resting my head in my hands. It wasn't until my boyfriend touched my shoulder that I realised I wasn't paying attention, and he looked worried as I glanced up at him.
"Did you hit your head?" he asked, kneeling in front of me.
"...I don't think so?"
"Tell me if you aren't well, yeah?" Sitting next to me, he ran his fingers through my hair as I instinctively leaned against him.
"...yeah…" The aching was starting to get to me, and I tangled my fingers in his shirt as a distraction. Suddenly tired, I gave in to the comfort, letting myself start to fall asleep.
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Showering had been interesting. I couldn't twist very well, and I'd almost had to get my boyfriend help me undress because I couldn't pull my shirt over my head. As soon as I glanced in the mirror, I was glad I didn't have to.
The bruising from my seatbelt was fucking horrific. Where it had contracted across my chest as I was thrown forward, my skin was dark and purple. It didn't hurt as badly as it looked, thank god, but twisting or moving my spine very much was definitely more tender than I would have liked. I didn't want Carlisle to see it - it would only worry him - but I felt his hand against the small of my back before I could do anything about it. He'd stayed home with me all day, offering me comfort whenever I was awake, and staying with me while I was asleep.
"God, Garrett, you're so lucky you didn't break anything..." he murmured softly, forcing a smile as I turned to face him.
"Yeah, I would have gotten out of the wedding if I had." I was still a little bit too shaky to tease him, but he laughed anyway as I held my hand against the side of his face.
Rolling his eyes at me, he leaned up to kiss me. I knew he was being very careful not to do anything which would evoke pain, and it was sweet, albeit unnecessary. "Come lie down; you must be sore by now."
I wasn't fighting with that.