starphotographs (
starphotographs) wrote in
rainbowfic2015-08-15 11:35 pm
Admin Yellow 23
Name:
starphotographs
Story: Corwin and Friends
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Main Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DbxN0ukCyU)
Characters: Spenser (POV), Maria (I’ve written about her before as part of his larger story, but never here.
Colors: Admin Yellow 23 (I don‘t know who to trust anymore.)
Word Count: 869
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Danger is exciting.
Note: More Organ Trafficking Arc miscellanea. After he got the screw in his wrist I mentioned in another story. But I mentioned it being on the wrong side. *face palm* (Also, I did all three songs today!)
Blocked
When I woke up, my head felt like it was going to split open.
Thank fuck for foiled windows.
Even the bedside lamp, which I hadn’t bothered to turn off before I passed out, felt like too much. That dirty yellow glow was like staring at the fucking sun. The pain pulsed, pushing itself against the inside of my face. I thought it was going to pop my eyeballs right out of my head. Then it reached down and punched me in the gut, and I tried to head for the bathroom, but my legs went out from under me as soon as I tried to stand. The messages were still getting scrambled on the way down from my brain. But the numbness was wearing off, at least. There was a dull ache in my hip, where they snipped out a sliver of red bone. My arm wasn’t exactly obeying my commands, either. And also hurt; a sort of dull, nonspecific pain between my elbow and the back of my hand.
I try to crawl back in bed and can’t. I start feeling like I’m going to throw up again, and try to stand so I can get to the fucking toilet, but, like before, I can’t. Unable to make meaningful progress in any direction, I sit on the floor beside the futon, leaning on the cold metal bar. It’s digging into my ribs. My back is bent up weirdly, but I can hardly feel anything down there. There’s a gross plastic wastecan by the bed, so I position my head over it, waiting. I haven’t eaten in a while, and nothing is working together so well, so I can’t even vomit properly. What came out of me made me think of what comes out of a hose when you turn it on and turn it right back off again. That tepid, watery splash.
The room is spinning around me.
This isn’t normal.
You’re dying.
Part of me thinks, fuckin’ finally. The rest is losing its shit, screaming who can I call, who can I call?
Well, who can I call?
I used up my last strike with Hal, and he’s useless, anyway. Everyone is useless. No one knows shit about medicine. They can’t help me.
Unless…
No, we’re not supposed to be talking. Our relationship was a stupid mistake. It was making the job weird. That’s what she said, anyway.
My head pounds. My vision swirls and spins. I heave again. Then I reach for my phone.
She’ll understand.
I bring up my contacts, call her number, and make a mental note to delete it, if I live that long.
“…Maria?”
Silence. Please don’t hang up.
“Spenser? Didn’t I tell you…”
“I know. This… Isn’t a social call.”
My voice was shaky. Hers was deadpan.
“Well, what do you want?”
I had to lean over the wastecan again.
“It’s… I have a really fuckin’ awful headache. And I’m, like, dizzy. I keep throwing up and shit.”
She didn’t seem all that concerned.
“You’ll be fine. This can happen after a spinal block, okay?”
My voice broke.
“I’d feel better if you came and looked at me, okay?”
She didn’t say anything for a while.
“…Alright. I can come look you over, but this isn’t a personal visit, understand?”
“I know…”
Maria hung up on me. I closed my eyes, trying not to die.
*****
She got there in about fifteen minutes, and by that time, I’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the sharp metal frame of my so-called bed.
“Fell off in your sleep?”
I shook my head, no. Maria helped me lug myself back up on the futon. She shone a little light in my pupils, asked me to do a few different motions with my one functioning limb. The whole time, I just kept wondering what the hell went wrong. How could she just revert to not giving a shit about me? Did she ever give a shit about me? More and more, I started to realize that she might not have. At first, Maria just thought I was entertaining. Then we somehow ended up in a relationship that I didn’t know was purely physical. She took me out and played with me whenever she felt like it, then put me back in my little box.
Maybe I would have been fine with that a year or two ago.
But now, I needed someone to worry about me, if that’s even the right word. Probably, there isn’t a word for what I need. Probably, what I need doesn’t even exist.
Just a lot of things that look like it from a distance, then disintegrate in my hands when I try and grab them.
Maria finished the exam.
“Yep, just a spinal headache. It’ll go away in a few days, okay?”
She touched my cheek, looked at me for a little too long, and turned away. Shut my sliding door behind her, vanished behind the sheet of crinkled metal, became just another part of the impossibly huge world I was trying to keep out.
By the time I started figuring out what was behind those eyes, she was gone.
And I was alone.
For real this time.
Story: Corwin and Friends
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (Summer Carnival, Lilith Fair Main Stage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DbxN0ukCyU)
Characters: Spenser (POV), Maria (I’ve written about her before as part of his larger story, but never here.
Colors: Admin Yellow 23 (I don‘t know who to trust anymore.)
Word Count: 869
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Summary: Danger is exciting.
Note: More Organ Trafficking Arc miscellanea. After he got the screw in his wrist I mentioned in another story. But I mentioned it being on the wrong side. *face palm* (Also, I did all three songs today!)
When I woke up, my head felt like it was going to split open.
Thank fuck for foiled windows.
Even the bedside lamp, which I hadn’t bothered to turn off before I passed out, felt like too much. That dirty yellow glow was like staring at the fucking sun. The pain pulsed, pushing itself against the inside of my face. I thought it was going to pop my eyeballs right out of my head. Then it reached down and punched me in the gut, and I tried to head for the bathroom, but my legs went out from under me as soon as I tried to stand. The messages were still getting scrambled on the way down from my brain. But the numbness was wearing off, at least. There was a dull ache in my hip, where they snipped out a sliver of red bone. My arm wasn’t exactly obeying my commands, either. And also hurt; a sort of dull, nonspecific pain between my elbow and the back of my hand.
I try to crawl back in bed and can’t. I start feeling like I’m going to throw up again, and try to stand so I can get to the fucking toilet, but, like before, I can’t. Unable to make meaningful progress in any direction, I sit on the floor beside the futon, leaning on the cold metal bar. It’s digging into my ribs. My back is bent up weirdly, but I can hardly feel anything down there. There’s a gross plastic wastecan by the bed, so I position my head over it, waiting. I haven’t eaten in a while, and nothing is working together so well, so I can’t even vomit properly. What came out of me made me think of what comes out of a hose when you turn it on and turn it right back off again. That tepid, watery splash.
The room is spinning around me.
This isn’t normal.
You’re dying.
Part of me thinks, fuckin’ finally. The rest is losing its shit, screaming who can I call, who can I call?
Well, who can I call?
I used up my last strike with Hal, and he’s useless, anyway. Everyone is useless. No one knows shit about medicine. They can’t help me.
Unless…
No, we’re not supposed to be talking. Our relationship was a stupid mistake. It was making the job weird. That’s what she said, anyway.
My head pounds. My vision swirls and spins. I heave again. Then I reach for my phone.
She’ll understand.
I bring up my contacts, call her number, and make a mental note to delete it, if I live that long.
“…Maria?”
Silence. Please don’t hang up.
“Spenser? Didn’t I tell you…”
“I know. This… Isn’t a social call.”
My voice was shaky. Hers was deadpan.
“Well, what do you want?”
I had to lean over the wastecan again.
“It’s… I have a really fuckin’ awful headache. And I’m, like, dizzy. I keep throwing up and shit.”
She didn’t seem all that concerned.
“You’ll be fine. This can happen after a spinal block, okay?”
My voice broke.
“I’d feel better if you came and looked at me, okay?”
She didn’t say anything for a while.
“…Alright. I can come look you over, but this isn’t a personal visit, understand?”
“I know…”
Maria hung up on me. I closed my eyes, trying not to die.
She got there in about fifteen minutes, and by that time, I’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the sharp metal frame of my so-called bed.
“Fell off in your sleep?”
I shook my head, no. Maria helped me lug myself back up on the futon. She shone a little light in my pupils, asked me to do a few different motions with my one functioning limb. The whole time, I just kept wondering what the hell went wrong. How could she just revert to not giving a shit about me? Did she ever give a shit about me? More and more, I started to realize that she might not have. At first, Maria just thought I was entertaining. Then we somehow ended up in a relationship that I didn’t know was purely physical. She took me out and played with me whenever she felt like it, then put me back in my little box.
Maybe I would have been fine with that a year or two ago.
But now, I needed someone to worry about me, if that’s even the right word. Probably, there isn’t a word for what I need. Probably, what I need doesn’t even exist.
Just a lot of things that look like it from a distance, then disintegrate in my hands when I try and grab them.
Maria finished the exam.
“Yep, just a spinal headache. It’ll go away in a few days, okay?”
She touched my cheek, looked at me for a little too long, and turned away. Shut my sliding door behind her, vanished behind the sheet of crinkled metal, became just another part of the impossibly huge world I was trying to keep out.
By the time I started figuring out what was behind those eyes, she was gone.
And I was alone.
For real this time.

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