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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Aug 1, 2008 22:41:40 GMT -5
If Drake had been the oldest of his siblings, instead of the second youngest, he would probably have remembered the sonogram pictures of Isobel and Felicity. But since he was younger than they were, that wasn't exactly logical to even think about. Honestly, he probably should have been a little brighter than to think the two dots were feet, eyes, testicles, or anything a single baby might have two of. But the way Mystic was talking about it wasn't helping at all. What in the hell was she even saying? A and B? A and B what? It took him a moment to comprehend, even with her explanation, but when he did, it hit him like bullet. Poor analogy to use, seeing as Drake knew what a bullet felt like, and this wasn't quite that bad, but it was still staggering. "Ahhohhholyshit." It came out all in one breath, just like that, and he was glad he was sitting down because if he hadn't been, he probably would have fallen over.
"You mean to say there are two...two babies?" he breathed, eyes riveted on the picture. If he'd thought about it sooner, it would have made perfect sense. In fact, any one had thought about it, considering Drake and Mystic's own background, one would know that any child of theirs would have probably twice the chance of any other to be one of a multiple birth. It was in the genes, probably from both sides of the family. But hell, the overwhelming realization that he was in all likelihood, unless Mystic had a drastic change of heart and told him to get out of her life altogether, going to play at least something of a father figure to a life he had a strong possibility of having created. That in and of itself had been a hefty responsibility suddenly handed to him. This was...well, it was the same responsibility, only twice as big.
He reached for her with one arm, pulling her close against him as he stared down at the picture. "I think...I think they're the most beautiful blobs I've ever seen." It was meant as a joke, but as Drake looked at them, he knew that they had to be by far better looking than anyone else's blob children could ever be. When she didn't laugh right away, he looked down at her, wondering what she was thinking. Was she made uncomfortable by the idea of the responsibility of two children. "Hey, don't worry." he told her, giving her a little hug. "I'll help you with this. I will. I promise to you, you are not gonna have to do this alone, not a single bit of it. I will be here, with you, and I will do whatever you need me to do, okay?" He didn't know if his promises were even going to help; after all, he'd promised her before that he'd be with her forever, and then he'd gone off and disappeared for a couple years, leaving her to assemble the pieces of the life they were supposed to have together. If he could do anything to make her feel better, he would. Of course, he had no way of knowing that she had a lot more than an unexpected pregnancy...or even a double one...to occupy her mind right now. [/blockquote]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Aug 2, 2008 0:24:09 GMT -5
» Drake didn't know yet. How could he? Unless he'd seen Flannery be brought in, and was, for some reason not telling Mystic... She didn't want to think about him knowing but not telling her. Sure, on one hand, she could understand why he would do it, maybe wanting to protect her, even though she would find out eventually. If he was hiding it, he was doing a damn good job, because he was much calmer than anybody should be when someone they'd known- been semi-close to, even if that person had recently busted their lip- was dead. No, she decided, he didn't know. He couldn't. While Drake wasn't exactly the most emotional man she'd ever met, he wasn't made of stone, and she figured his need to make sure she was okay would overcome his want to protect her from the inevitable realization. That, she supposed, excused him from being told he was an idiot for trying to make her laugh. He should know better than anyone- anyone alive, at any rate- that it generally wasn't a good idea to try and make Mystic laugh when she was sad, or, like now when she would soon, undoubtedly, be all but inconsolable. She made a half-effort to smile at the blob joke, though she came up short. Of course she agreed. They were her babies, after all. She could have been told right then that one or both of them had some sort of genetic mutation that would leave them without half of their faces, and she would still think they were beautiful.
» Mystic was never good at hiding things for long. While she could keep a secret- small things like "Ohh, I like Tommy, don't tell anyone." were fine and could be kept safe with Mystic- it was nearly impossible for her to keep something huge to herself. If it was something someone ought to know, she would only be able to fight off the urge to spout it out for so long before she would have to give up. Yesterday night was a prime example. They would probably all be fine right now, probably making plans to have lunch or something, if Mystic had only been able to keep her mouth shut. Flannery hadn't suspected anything, despite the way Mystic and Drake had been so obviously avoiding the urge to pounce on each other, and if only she had a little more willpower... Maybe if she'd remained quiet- or, to take things a step further, if she'd just stayed upstairs until she was sure their guest had left, like she was originally planning to- none of this would have gone down until there was a more calm environment to do so (though, in all the scenarios run in her mind, none of them exactly went well.) Maybe if she hadn't been so unable to control herself, Flannery would still be alive...
» It was that thought that completely broke her. "Oh, God," she said, clamping one hand over her mouth, unable to stop a couple of hot tears from rolling down her cheeks. "It's all my fault." If she hadn't blabbed- she doubted Drake would have if she hadn't first- there would have been no reason for her to make an exit, followed by Drake. Even if the close brush with miscarriage would have happened no matter what the night's events were, it likely wouldn't have involved Drake alone taking her to the hospital, and definitely him not crawling into bed with her. Even if Drake had tagged along to the hospital, it would have been drastically different. Flannery wouldn't have been angry. He wouldn't have been hurt and devastated. He wouldn't have seen them, and then left in a hurry, thus being too reckless on his way home. What if she'd gotten up to see who was there, instead of asking Drake to? Maybe she would have been able to calm him down, been able to keep him there, so they could talk. He would still be alive. Alive. With that, she turned to Drake and buried her face in his chest, finally breaking into sobs. "He's gone. He... he... I felt him. He was all cold and.. and... and not... he wasn't... moving. There was... blood and he was... he's dead." Her breathing pattern was erratic, definitely not healthy, especially considering what lack of proper oxygen could do to developing babies. "Oh, god, Flannery's dead..." It seemed strange, asking Drake of all people to comfort her in the death of the man that had tried to punch his face in, but then again, Drake was probably the one person that would be able to calm her down. Nobody else had that kind of abilities with sensitive little Mystic.
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Aug 2, 2008 16:19:24 GMT -5
Something was wrong. Aside from this whole situation, that is. Drake could tell, once he started to get over the initial shock that there were twice as many babies in her than he'd thought there were, that something was bothering her, and while he had no idea what it was, he felt the need to make her aware of the fact that whatever it was, he wasn't going to leave her alone to face it. If he'd had to guess what was on her mind, the truth would have been the farthest thing from his mind. He would have guessed that maybe something was wrong with one or both of the babies, that she'd lost one, that maybe she'd decided to tell him, Drake, that she was going to stay with Flannery and he was SOL as far as their relationship was concerned. So when she began talking about things being her fault, his mind first went to the matter of the two of them being together, or being apart. She was crying now, and Drake cringed inwardly. Damn, she'd been crying a lot lately, and even though she was talking about how much it was her fault, he couldn't help but feel that it was his. And as much as Drake liked being alive, he had a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that it would have been a lot easier for a lot of people if he'd either stayed dead or simply not remembered who he was. That wouldn't have been good, though...it probably would have been even worse if they'd run into each other and he hadn't had any idea who she was.
His wandering mind snapped back to the present situation when she said that he...someone...was dead. Again, his first thought was one of the babies, but it made no sense to him that they'd be able to tell the sex of the children at this point. He might have been dumb enough to ask if the blobs were feet, but by now, he knew that had been a mistake of idiotic proportions and he wasn't going to make it again. He was glad he hadn't opened his mouth and said something stupid, because the next thing she said rendered him speechless and he would have been completely unable to make any sort of defense for his lack of mental acuity. What in the hell was she talking about? Flannery wasn't dead. Drake had been bum-plumbing talking with him (and being punched by him) less than twenty-four hours ago. But Drake, probably as clearly as anyone, understood all too well how someone could go from completely and totally alive to absolutely gone in the space of a few seconds, let alone a few hours. He'd seen it happen before, right in front of his eyes. It has a horrifying and sobering thing, to have someone laughing, smiling, or even just talking at one moment, then, in the snap of the fingers, watch the light go out of his eyes.
Dead? Did she mean...dead, dead? Or was this just some strange way of telling him that she'd broken things off with Drake forever and he was dead to her now? That didn't sound like an analogy Mystic would ever use, at least not unless she was absolutely furious with someone, or they'd done something really hurtful to her (and even then, knowing Mystic, she was likely to be more forgiving than to declare them completely dead to her forever). No, this was serious. Something was very wrong, he felt it deep in the pit of his stomach, in the place that had often let him know when something unpleasant had occurred or was about to. "Mystic." Her name seemed to be the only thing he could come up with to say, and he knew it wasn't very helpful, but he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her smaller form against his in what he could only hope was a comforting hug. He didn't know how it had happened, and he didn't know what in the hell he was going to do about it, or could do about it, but there was one thing Drake had been good at without fail, and that was loving Mystic. No matter what happened after this, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that right now, he needed to hold her, give her something solid to hang onto. This could get so complicated...god, even if this did make the decision Mystic was facing a little easier, would she want to be with him with the terrible feeling of losing someone she'd loved lurking in her mind? And what would people say if she did? He couldn't stand the thought of people saying unkind things about Mystic behind her back. Was this supposed to be a sign, or a punishment inflicted on the both of them for what they'd done to Flannery? [/blockquote]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Aug 2, 2008 22:12:46 GMT -5
» It did seem lately, that with Drake around she did cry a bit more than she would otherwise. Still, she wouldn't blame him. She blamed the situation- which, if it came down to it, was really both of their faults. Knowing that was she did was wrong, but still knowing she wouldn't take it back for anything... well, it weighed on her conscience something awful, which, in turn, made her more apt to cry. It was like right after she lost the baby, small things would make her cry, when they normally wouldn't have phased her more than a little; and all Flannery had been able to do was hold her until she stopped, and just be there to make sure she was okay. Nothing he said really helped- she knew there was nothing she could have done, and that they could just try again when they were ready, since they were both young and healthy- but his touch comforted her. Likewise, there was nothing Drake could say now that would help her at all. While she still felt incredibly guilty, as if there was something she should have done, something she should have known before that would have kept Flannery alive, she also knew there was nothing she could have done, and no way she could have known. They were circumstances out of her control. All she wanted, all she needed, really, right now was to be held.
» It took quite a while, but she finally wore herself out. Her sobs grew farther in-between, and her breathing evened out. She sat there for a second, clinging to Drake, with her face in his chest until she felt like she could deal with the "outside world". Taking a deep, albeit shaky, breath, she managed to lift her head up a little, but then put it right back down. She hated being so sensitive, and wished she could learn to suck it up as easily as everyone else seemed to be capable of. But then again, she knew that there were times that one just wasn't supposed to move on right away. What kind of person would she be if she were able to be like 'Oh. Flannery's dead. Whatever.' ? She was incapable of such a thing. So, she figured, not being able to move on very soon was better than moving on too soon. If nothing else, Drake would be able to know that she hadn't gotten over him right away.
» That was something else bothering her now. She didn't want to force herself to get over this right away, because that would make her a horrible person. But how would that make Drake feel if, despite her assuring him she still wanted to be with him, she was still crying over Flannery? Surely he couldn't fault her for that... After all, even though they hadn't been married long, they had definitely been in love, and even though they'd been pulled apart because of recent incidents, she couldn't just pick up and forget about him. It would take time to heal, and if Drake could handle that and keep holding her while she cried- she knew there would be a lot of that, and figured he would know it too- she would love him all the more for it. Just like the way she cheated on Flannery didn't mean she didn't still love him, crying over Flannery's death for an extended period of time didn't mean she didn't love Drake. In a way, his death helped her; it saved her from actually having to say what she was going to do. She only hoped he wouldn't think she was horrible for thinking such a thing. But it was true. Now the worst she had to contend with was the few nurses and various hospital staff she didn't know too well wondering why she was with another man so soon after the death of the other. She had a good feeling that the good majority of the nurses, since she was pretty close with them, would understand her side of it, and not immediately label her as a two-timing whore.
» After taking another short pause to gather her thoughts, Mystic sighed, her body seeming to go limp, and her tight squeeze on Drake loosened. She wanted so badly to know what the last thing he heard Flannery said was, but was also afraid to know, because she knew that either Drake would lie about it to make her feel better, or if he told the truth it would be something obscene she didn't want to hear. So she didn't ask. She let go of him, sitting up and wiping away tears silently, before looking at Drake. She knew she was so lucky he was there. She also knew he wasn't like some guys that would take advantage of her vulnerability now and just swoop in and do who knows what. But she knew Drake wouldn't. Or hoped. If she needed a long time to recover, he would be there to comfort her, and would never press her into doing anything too quickly; when she was ready, hopefully, he would be too, and not sooner.
» But now the question she was silently asking Drake was, where did this leave them? Considering that Mystic was now no longer married, in all technicality, what about her and Drake? Did this mean they were still engaged? Should they pick up where they left off before he left? Or should they go back to dating? She knew they were something. There was way too much love between them, so much passion- and now, quite possibly, two children- for them not to be anything. But what were they?
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