(no subject)
Title: On The Mend
Author: cecism
Fandom: Private Practice
Characters: Cooper/Violet
Prompt: #1 - You were right about me @ un_love_you
Word Count: 1417
Rating: G
Disclamer: Not mine, never will be.
Author's Notes: Set directly after 1x05 - Violet showing up at Cooper’s door. (And yes, I'd actually written this in the week that it had aired, muldy can vouch for me!)
“Why didn’t you check on me?”
He looks at her and wants to say so many things, none of which seem quite right at this moment. He can’t answer. It’s with half-hearted reluctance - a part of him wants nothing more - that he lets the door open, and she steps inside.
She sinks herself down on the worn couch, the couch she’s sat on too many times to count. The middle of the seat dips slightly under her weight; she pulls a cushion out from behind her and instead hugs her arms around it.
After shutting the front door, he strides over to the refrigerator and deftly lifts out two beer bottles with the one hand, nudging the door shut with his shoulder.
He places one bottle on the wooden coffee table in front of her, and she takes it as though it were routine.
Still he doesn’t speak.
He opts not to join her on the couch - and the armchair, all of ten feet away, seems too distant. He pushes a few magazines and papers off the perpendicular side of the table to her, and then perches himself down on the honey-coloured wood. His elbows rest forwards on his thighs, the beer bottle dangling between his knees.
“Is it really all I talk about?” Her voice is hesitant, not particularly wanting to know the answer. She’s busy pulling the cuff of her sweater over her hand so the bottlecap won’t hurt her palm when she screws it off. He watches her hands almost pityingly, fighting the urge to simply unscrew it for her, like he always does. He stays where he is.
“Generally, yes.” He had called her honest once, now it was his turn to be honest right back. She glances up from her drink, but he keeps looking at her beer, refusing to meet her eyes just yet.
“God,” she sighs, throwing her head back to gaze at the ceiling. “I’m so -” She stops, uncertain as to what to admit. ‘Pathetic’ was the original intention, but she’s already used it today and it was sounding overused. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I am anymore.”
For once in his life, Cooper waits before speaking.
She isn’t going to pretend that she’s not hurt. He’d walked out. He’d left her, clutching an awkward bag of takeout whilst Allan had sat on her own couch.
And she hadn’t heard from him all night, either.
He was her friend. He was Cooper. He was meant to look out for her.
A rational part of her realises that’s what he had been doing all along. She pushes that thought aside.
She straightens up, taking a swig of her beer first before replacing it on the table in front. “Okay,” she says, tone stronger. “Shoot me with it. Say ‘I told you so’.”
He finally glances up at her, his face uncharacteristically unreadable. He shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Then what?”
He rubs a hand wearily over his face. “You want to know why I didn’t check on you?” She nods, but even if she hadn’t, he would have pressed on regardless. “Every time you set yourself up, everytime you get that - that gleam in your eye. You always end up coming down again.”
“But then why -”
He holds up a hand to silence her. “I am always the one who picks up the pieces.”
She seems taken aback, simply staring at him, her beer forgotten on the table. “I always thought you wanted to. You’d always show up, with perfect timing, so I thought -”
“I do it because that’s what friends do,” he says flatly. “But one day, Violet, you’re going to turn around and I might not be there.”
It seems to take the punch out of her. “You might not be there,” she repeats slowly, as though she’s trying to see how it sounds.
Oh, God. She was a wreck.
“Then why do you keep coming back?” she asks tentatively.
Cooper sighs, picking at the corner of the bottle label. “Involuntary movements?” It wasn’t a joke, though not completely serious either. “Vi, I’m basically here as your voice of reason. No one else is going to be.”
Violet kicks off her sneakers and crosses her legs on the couch, her socked feet tucked under her knees. “No, I feel like you’re my voice of cynicism. Every time you try and bring me back down to the ground instead of letting me be happy.”
“I’m just trying to save you from falling. And you do, Violet.” He looks at her squarely. “You always do. I would give anything to see you happy, but while you keep going on your Allan-induced giddy updrafts, you’re not going to be.”
“You didn’t check on me.” Her voice is soft, and he wonders if it was more a state of fact to herself rather than him.
He mulls over his words. “Maybe I’m just tired.”
They sit in silence for a moment, before he speaks again. “Plus, Sam helped you today. You didn’t need me to check on you.”
“I wasn’t replacing you by going to Sam,” she says, her tone ever-so-slightly scoffing.
“Then what?”
“Wait a second.” She holds up a finger. “You don’t want to be the shoulder I cry on, and then as soon as someone else is, you want me to explain myself for it?”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Cooper, you left me when I needed you most,” she continues, her voice raising in both pitch and decibels. Her eyes are wide, her mouth set. “That was why, today, Sam became that person.”
“No, listen to me, Violet.” His tone is sharper than she’s probably ever heard it, and it makes her pause. “I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve heard you say, ‘I’m over him’ and then become an emotional mess two seconds later. You’re letting him win, every single time. And who am I? I’m the guy who picks you up before you let yourself get hurt yet again.”
She opens her mouth in protest, eyes flaming, and then something inside seems to click. Her mouth closes, and she looks down at the blue rug covering the floorboards. He’s right. She knows it, he knows it. The word ‘pathetic’ seems like a severe understatement. How could she not possibly see where he was coming from?
She took him for granted. He was always there, no questions asked. Even if she didn’t particularly need it. God, why did he still put up with her if all she seemed to talk about was Allan? No wonder he’d walked away today. He’d warned her, she hadn’t listened.
Her face crumbles, and he wordlessly reaches for a box of tissues and holds them out in her direction.
His instinctive movement of kindness makes her want to bawl, but she’s resilient this time. She inhales deeply, and shakes her head at him while holding up a finger. “No. No, I’m not going to cry.” Her exhaling breath comes out shakier than she’d hoped, so she breathes again. Second time round, it is steadier. When the stinging in her eyes finally ceases, she glances up, and he gives a small smile of what looks like encouragement and approval combined. She smiles back, and she knows they’re okay.
“I’ve never heard you sound that frustrated before,” she remarks quietly.
He lets out a cross between a short laugh and a sigh. “Bad day for both of us, I think.”
“I’m sorry, Cooper.” Her tone is earnest, but he shrugs.
“It’s okay, you know.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not going to put myself - or you - through this anymore. Starting from now, I’m gonna be looking-ahead-Violet.” She raises an eyebrow in mock smugness and he can’t help but grin in return.
“And why should I believe you?”
“I guess you can’t. But I’m gonna try. And I’m not going to expect you to help me up next time, either - not that there’s going to be a next time,” she corrects herself quickly.
“Sounds like a plan.” He surveys his living room wonderingly. “I don’t have any Ashley Judd lying around, but if I hunt hard enough I could probably find something with Meg Ryan in it.”
She nods with a smile. “Sounds like a plan,” she agrees. She’s sitting here on Cooper’s familiar couch in her sweats with a now-lukewarm beer, and it feels more than good.
Author: cecism
Fandom: Private Practice
Characters: Cooper/Violet
Prompt: #1 - You were right about me @ un_love_you
Word Count: 1417
Rating: G
Disclamer: Not mine, never will be.
Author's Notes: Set directly after 1x05 - Violet showing up at Cooper’s door. (And yes, I'd actually written this in the week that it had aired, muldy can vouch for me!)
“Why didn’t you check on me?”
He looks at her and wants to say so many things, none of which seem quite right at this moment. He can’t answer. It’s with half-hearted reluctance - a part of him wants nothing more - that he lets the door open, and she steps inside.
She sinks herself down on the worn couch, the couch she’s sat on too many times to count. The middle of the seat dips slightly under her weight; she pulls a cushion out from behind her and instead hugs her arms around it.
After shutting the front door, he strides over to the refrigerator and deftly lifts out two beer bottles with the one hand, nudging the door shut with his shoulder.
He places one bottle on the wooden coffee table in front of her, and she takes it as though it were routine.
Still he doesn’t speak.
He opts not to join her on the couch - and the armchair, all of ten feet away, seems too distant. He pushes a few magazines and papers off the perpendicular side of the table to her, and then perches himself down on the honey-coloured wood. His elbows rest forwards on his thighs, the beer bottle dangling between his knees.
“Is it really all I talk about?” Her voice is hesitant, not particularly wanting to know the answer. She’s busy pulling the cuff of her sweater over her hand so the bottlecap won’t hurt her palm when she screws it off. He watches her hands almost pityingly, fighting the urge to simply unscrew it for her, like he always does. He stays where he is.
“Generally, yes.” He had called her honest once, now it was his turn to be honest right back. She glances up from her drink, but he keeps looking at her beer, refusing to meet her eyes just yet.
“God,” she sighs, throwing her head back to gaze at the ceiling. “I’m so -” She stops, uncertain as to what to admit. ‘Pathetic’ was the original intention, but she’s already used it today and it was sounding overused. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I am anymore.”
For once in his life, Cooper waits before speaking.
She isn’t going to pretend that she’s not hurt. He’d walked out. He’d left her, clutching an awkward bag of takeout whilst Allan had sat on her own couch.
And she hadn’t heard from him all night, either.
He was her friend. He was Cooper. He was meant to look out for her.
A rational part of her realises that’s what he had been doing all along. She pushes that thought aside.
She straightens up, taking a swig of her beer first before replacing it on the table in front. “Okay,” she says, tone stronger. “Shoot me with it. Say ‘I told you so’.”
He finally glances up at her, his face uncharacteristically unreadable. He shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Then what?”
He rubs a hand wearily over his face. “You want to know why I didn’t check on you?” She nods, but even if she hadn’t, he would have pressed on regardless. “Every time you set yourself up, everytime you get that - that gleam in your eye. You always end up coming down again.”
“But then why -”
He holds up a hand to silence her. “I am always the one who picks up the pieces.”
She seems taken aback, simply staring at him, her beer forgotten on the table. “I always thought you wanted to. You’d always show up, with perfect timing, so I thought -”
“I do it because that’s what friends do,” he says flatly. “But one day, Violet, you’re going to turn around and I might not be there.”
It seems to take the punch out of her. “You might not be there,” she repeats slowly, as though she’s trying to see how it sounds.
Oh, God. She was a wreck.
“Then why do you keep coming back?” she asks tentatively.
Cooper sighs, picking at the corner of the bottle label. “Involuntary movements?” It wasn’t a joke, though not completely serious either. “Vi, I’m basically here as your voice of reason. No one else is going to be.”
Violet kicks off her sneakers and crosses her legs on the couch, her socked feet tucked under her knees. “No, I feel like you’re my voice of cynicism. Every time you try and bring me back down to the ground instead of letting me be happy.”
“I’m just trying to save you from falling. And you do, Violet.” He looks at her squarely. “You always do. I would give anything to see you happy, but while you keep going on your Allan-induced giddy updrafts, you’re not going to be.”
“You didn’t check on me.” Her voice is soft, and he wonders if it was more a state of fact to herself rather than him.
He mulls over his words. “Maybe I’m just tired.”
They sit in silence for a moment, before he speaks again. “Plus, Sam helped you today. You didn’t need me to check on you.”
“I wasn’t replacing you by going to Sam,” she says, her tone ever-so-slightly scoffing.
“Then what?”
“Wait a second.” She holds up a finger. “You don’t want to be the shoulder I cry on, and then as soon as someone else is, you want me to explain myself for it?”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Cooper, you left me when I needed you most,” she continues, her voice raising in both pitch and decibels. Her eyes are wide, her mouth set. “That was why, today, Sam became that person.”
“No, listen to me, Violet.” His tone is sharper than she’s probably ever heard it, and it makes her pause. “I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve heard you say, ‘I’m over him’ and then become an emotional mess two seconds later. You’re letting him win, every single time. And who am I? I’m the guy who picks you up before you let yourself get hurt yet again.”
She opens her mouth in protest, eyes flaming, and then something inside seems to click. Her mouth closes, and she looks down at the blue rug covering the floorboards. He’s right. She knows it, he knows it. The word ‘pathetic’ seems like a severe understatement. How could she not possibly see where he was coming from?
She took him for granted. He was always there, no questions asked. Even if she didn’t particularly need it. God, why did he still put up with her if all she seemed to talk about was Allan? No wonder he’d walked away today. He’d warned her, she hadn’t listened.
Her face crumbles, and he wordlessly reaches for a box of tissues and holds them out in her direction.
His instinctive movement of kindness makes her want to bawl, but she’s resilient this time. She inhales deeply, and shakes her head at him while holding up a finger. “No. No, I’m not going to cry.” Her exhaling breath comes out shakier than she’d hoped, so she breathes again. Second time round, it is steadier. When the stinging in her eyes finally ceases, she glances up, and he gives a small smile of what looks like encouragement and approval combined. She smiles back, and she knows they’re okay.
“I’ve never heard you sound that frustrated before,” she remarks quietly.
He lets out a cross between a short laugh and a sigh. “Bad day for both of us, I think.”
“I’m sorry, Cooper.” Her tone is earnest, but he shrugs.
“It’s okay, you know.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not going to put myself - or you - through this anymore. Starting from now, I’m gonna be looking-ahead-Violet.” She raises an eyebrow in mock smugness and he can’t help but grin in return.
“And why should I believe you?”
“I guess you can’t. But I’m gonna try. And I’m not going to expect you to help me up next time, either - not that there’s going to be a next time,” she corrects herself quickly.
“Sounds like a plan.” He surveys his living room wonderingly. “I don’t have any Ashley Judd lying around, but if I hunt hard enough I could probably find something with Meg Ryan in it.”
She nods with a smile. “Sounds like a plan,” she agrees. She’s sitting here on Cooper’s familiar couch in her sweats with a now-lukewarm beer, and it feels more than good.