kay_brooke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kay_brooke) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-07-02 08:08 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2014-07-02 08:08 pm
Crane White #11, Gold #2
Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Crane White #11 (A rain cloud, a crane on the wing), Gold #2 (the use of money is all the advantage there is in having it)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Seed Beads
Word Count: 664
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: She never thought she'd see her son again.
Note: Originally written for a prompt call. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
“Where is he? Where is my son?” Elizabeth dashed through the entrance of the hospital, and Jess trailed behind her. “Tell me where he is right now!”
“Ma'am, could you please sign in, and I'll get to you as soon as I can.” The nurse staffing the front desk didn't even blink, just slid over a log book and a battered Bic pen. Elizabeth ground her teeth. Jess tried to put a placating arm on her mother’s shoulder, but Elizabeth shrugged her off.
“I don't need to sign in,” she snapped. “I am Elizabeth Ellingsworth, and if you're capable of reading you'll recognize that name from the one in big blue letters over the doorway to your cancer research center, so you will get to me right now.”
“Mom, please,” said Jess, but Elizabeth ignored her.
She hadn't made the nurse her friend, whose face curdled in a way Elizabeth was all too familiar with, especially among those of the lower classes. But she deferred, as so many of them often did. “Of course, Mrs. Ellingsworth. What may I help you with?”
“I received a call from this hospital not ten minutes ago,” she said. “From a Doctor Tranner. It was concerning my son.” My son. She never thought she'd get to say those words again without inviting looks of pity and the awkward condolences from people who thought showing emotion was gauche.
The nurse was already on the phone, inputting what Elizabeth assumed was Dr. Tranner's extension. “Dr. Tranner,” she murmured into the receiver, “I have an Elizabeth Ellingsworth here...yes. Yes, of course.” Hanging up the phone, she said, “He's expecting you. Second floor, room two eighteen. The elevators are right around the corner.” She pointed.
“Of course he's expecting me,” said Elizabeth. He should have been waiting for her. She turned on her heel and headed for the elevators.
“Thank you,” Jess said to the nurse before hurrying to catch up.
Once they were alone in the elevator, daughter turned to mother. “There was no need to be rude to that nurse, Mom.”
“I wasn't rude. She wasn't moving fast enough. She should have known I was coming.”
“The entire hospital can't know you're coming, no matter how much money Dad's donated.”
“She was at the front desk,” countered Elizabeth. “I don't think it's unreasonable to expect the nurse at the front desk to know.” But she didn't want to talk anymore about the nurse, who was only a bit player and would never again impact Elizabeth's life. “Oh, Jess. Can you believe it, though? David.”
Jess shook her head. “I can't believe it. Don't get your hopes up, Mom. It might not even be him.”
“He had ID on him,” said Elizabeth. “Dr. Tranner knows him. He said it was him.”
“I just don't want you to expect something you're not going to get.”
Elizabeth tuned her daughter out; Jess had always been doom and gloom. What did she know, anyway?
She spotted Dr. Tranner as soon as the elevator doors opened, and she ran to him, heels clicking loudly on the tile floor. “Doctor! Is it him? Is it really him?” But she could see herself, through the open doorway into Room 218. And it was him, her son, her boy who had gone missing and been declared dead over a year ago, awake and sitting up in a hospital bed, idly playing with the corners of his blanket. “Oh god. Oh god, David!”
“Mrs. Ellingsworth,” said Dr. Tranner, “before you go in there we need to talk--”
But she was already through the door, across the room, and embracing her son. “David,” she wept. “I never thought I would see you again.” She backed away to look at him. She thought she might never stop looking at him.
“Hello,” he said, giving her a slightly puzzled smile. “Who are you?”
kay_brookeStory: David/Cleaner
Colors: Crane White #11 (A rain cloud, a crane on the wing), Gold #2 (the use of money is all the advantage there is in having it)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Seed Beads
Word Count: 664
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: She never thought she'd see her son again.
Note: Originally written for a prompt call. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
“Where is he? Where is my son?” Elizabeth dashed through the entrance of the hospital, and Jess trailed behind her. “Tell me where he is right now!”
“Ma'am, could you please sign in, and I'll get to you as soon as I can.” The nurse staffing the front desk didn't even blink, just slid over a log book and a battered Bic pen. Elizabeth ground her teeth. Jess tried to put a placating arm on her mother’s shoulder, but Elizabeth shrugged her off.
“I don't need to sign in,” she snapped. “I am Elizabeth Ellingsworth, and if you're capable of reading you'll recognize that name from the one in big blue letters over the doorway to your cancer research center, so you will get to me right now.”
“Mom, please,” said Jess, but Elizabeth ignored her.
She hadn't made the nurse her friend, whose face curdled in a way Elizabeth was all too familiar with, especially among those of the lower classes. But she deferred, as so many of them often did. “Of course, Mrs. Ellingsworth. What may I help you with?”
“I received a call from this hospital not ten minutes ago,” she said. “From a Doctor Tranner. It was concerning my son.” My son. She never thought she'd get to say those words again without inviting looks of pity and the awkward condolences from people who thought showing emotion was gauche.
The nurse was already on the phone, inputting what Elizabeth assumed was Dr. Tranner's extension. “Dr. Tranner,” she murmured into the receiver, “I have an Elizabeth Ellingsworth here...yes. Yes, of course.” Hanging up the phone, she said, “He's expecting you. Second floor, room two eighteen. The elevators are right around the corner.” She pointed.
“Of course he's expecting me,” said Elizabeth. He should have been waiting for her. She turned on her heel and headed for the elevators.
“Thank you,” Jess said to the nurse before hurrying to catch up.
Once they were alone in the elevator, daughter turned to mother. “There was no need to be rude to that nurse, Mom.”
“I wasn't rude. She wasn't moving fast enough. She should have known I was coming.”
“The entire hospital can't know you're coming, no matter how much money Dad's donated.”
“She was at the front desk,” countered Elizabeth. “I don't think it's unreasonable to expect the nurse at the front desk to know.” But she didn't want to talk anymore about the nurse, who was only a bit player and would never again impact Elizabeth's life. “Oh, Jess. Can you believe it, though? David.”
Jess shook her head. “I can't believe it. Don't get your hopes up, Mom. It might not even be him.”
“He had ID on him,” said Elizabeth. “Dr. Tranner knows him. He said it was him.”
“I just don't want you to expect something you're not going to get.”
Elizabeth tuned her daughter out; Jess had always been doom and gloom. What did she know, anyway?
She spotted Dr. Tranner as soon as the elevator doors opened, and she ran to him, heels clicking loudly on the tile floor. “Doctor! Is it him? Is it really him?” But she could see herself, through the open doorway into Room 218. And it was him, her son, her boy who had gone missing and been declared dead over a year ago, awake and sitting up in a hospital bed, idly playing with the corners of his blanket. “Oh god. Oh god, David!”
“Mrs. Ellingsworth,” said Dr. Tranner, “before you go in there we need to talk--”
But she was already through the door, across the room, and embracing her son. “David,” she wept. “I never thought I would see you again.” She backed away to look at him. She thought she might never stop looking at him.
“Hello,” he said, giving her a slightly puzzled smile. “Who are you?”