Safety Valve
[Takes place after Cassie's, Diana's, Tim's, Bart's and Kon's. Characters used with much love. ♥]
"Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it."
- Albert Smith [musesandlyrics]
~*~
Cissie hasn't cried. She hasn't cried, and she hasn't slept, except for a short half-hour sometime after sunrise, when she put her head down on the foot of Cassie's hospital bed and dozed, fingertips brushing her friend's ankle.
The hours since arriving at Cassie's bedside pass in a kind of haze. It's not before nearly noon on Saturday that Cissie realizes that no one has eaten or shown any interest in food--not even Bart or Kon. When Bart offers, for the third time, to take her home so she can shower, she accepts.
It's not that she wants to leave Cassie. She doesn't. At all. But there are plenty of people who want to see Cassie--Dr. Sandsmark, Diana, Donna. Bart, Kon. Tim won't leave her side, and Bart is doing his best to make sure someone is always with Tim, too. Bart is dealing by taking charge within their group, and it's almost a relief. Cissie hasn't had to do anything but just exist and be with her family. But no one is thinking of things like eating, so Cissie lets Bart take her home and sends him back to the hospital with a kiss and a promise to return soon.
She thinks maybe she'll break down and cry while she's alone. When she's not being strong for Tim, or Kon, or Bart. But she doesn't. Cissie showers and lets the water run over her, thinking of Cassie, broken in her hospital bed, and she doesn't cry.
Cissie realizes abruptly that she's angry. She's so angry. She's scared for Cassie, for what happened, what could have happened, what almost happened, what did happen, and she's angry. She's angry that they're all blaming themselves--no one has said anything, but she knows they are--and she's angry that this keeps happening. That the people she loves most in the world keep dying or nearly dying, and that there is nothing she can do about it.
And that is entirely her own fault.
She quit. She walked away. She wasn't there. She wasn't there when Kon died. She wasn't there when Bart died. She wasn't there this time either, when Cassie needed help. Even if all she did was monitor communications, she would have known something was wrong before it was too late.
And there Cissie goes, blaming herself. Just like Bart is blaming himself, and Tim is blaming himself and Kon is blaming himself. And does any of that self blame help Cassie? No. None of it changes what happened.
Cissie stops by her bow when she is leaving the apartment. She just stops, and looks at it. She remembers. She remembers how it felt to be with her friends in the field, to shoot in a way that's completely different than how she's been shooting since. She remembers all the times Cassie asked--begged--her to come back. For just this moment, she feels like if Cassie asked it of her again, she would say yes. If it meant Cassie was awake, and not broken.
And then she thinks of Cassie in that hospital bed, and how broken and scared everyone is, and she wants. For just a second, she wants to pick up her bow, find the people responsible for doing that to Cassie--for killing Bart--for killing Kon--for Marcy, for Greta, for Tim for Kon for Bart for Cassie. Cassie.
Cissie wants those people to hurt like she hurts. Like they hurt.
But she takes a shuddering breath and unfolds her fists and turns her back on her bow.
And she doesn't cry.
~*~
Cissie stops at the bakery on the way back to the hospital, and fills Wanda in on what's happening. Thanks her for filling in on short notice, overlooks that Wanda was practicing her piping on the countertop, and leaves with bags of pastries, donuts, muffins, bread and bagels. Portable, easy-to-grab food that maybe people will eat if it is made available to them.
When she returns to the hospital, her first stop is the waiting room, where Kon has fallen into an exhausted sleep stretched out across a row of chairs, and Diana and Donna are talking in quiet voices in a corner. She spreads the food out on one of the tables, and takes a bag of turnovers and snickerdoodles into Cassie's room for Tim and Bart. She hugs Tim, gives Bart a kiss and just touches Cassie's hand for a moment before leaving the room with a promise to return. Seeing Cassie like this again takes her breath away, even if she only left an hour ago.
Cissie finds Cassie's mother in a quiet corner, sitting by one of the windows. Helena Sandsmark looks like they all do, like she hasn't slept at all, and her eyes are red. There's something fundamentally wrong about that--mothers shouldn't cry. The only time Cissie can remember her own mother crying is when her father died, and that was only when she didn't know Cissie was in the room.
(She wonders for about half a second if Bonnie would cry like this.)
Cissie sits down next to Cassie's mother, who has been at times so much more of a mother to her than her own, and quietly passes her a blueberry muffin.
"Thank you, Cissie." Dr. Sandsmark smiles at her, and though it doesn't reach her eyes, Cissie knows she's trying to be reassuring. She takes Cissie's hand and squeezes it. "All of you. For being here. For everything. It means a lot to me. And it will to Cassie, when she wakes up."
Cissie thinks that's wrong. She should be the one reassuring her. She's been doing it all night. All day. Telling herself--and the others--that everything will be all right. She opens her mouth.
We wouldn't be anywhere else.
She's going to be okay.
Cassie's strong.
She'll get through this.
We'll get through this.
We'll be okay.
We're sorry.
I'm sorry.
All that comes out is a kind of choking sound, and then she is being hugged.
And she realizes that she is crying.
At some point, Bart switches places with Dr. Sandsmark, and Cissie clings to him.
Because Bart was dead. And now he's not.
And Cassie is going to live.
"Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it."
- Albert Smith [musesandlyrics]
~*~
Cissie hasn't cried. She hasn't cried, and she hasn't slept, except for a short half-hour sometime after sunrise, when she put her head down on the foot of Cassie's hospital bed and dozed, fingertips brushing her friend's ankle.
The hours since arriving at Cassie's bedside pass in a kind of haze. It's not before nearly noon on Saturday that Cissie realizes that no one has eaten or shown any interest in food--not even Bart or Kon. When Bart offers, for the third time, to take her home so she can shower, she accepts.
It's not that she wants to leave Cassie. She doesn't. At all. But there are plenty of people who want to see Cassie--Dr. Sandsmark, Diana, Donna. Bart, Kon. Tim won't leave her side, and Bart is doing his best to make sure someone is always with Tim, too. Bart is dealing by taking charge within their group, and it's almost a relief. Cissie hasn't had to do anything but just exist and be with her family. But no one is thinking of things like eating, so Cissie lets Bart take her home and sends him back to the hospital with a kiss and a promise to return soon.
She thinks maybe she'll break down and cry while she's alone. When she's not being strong for Tim, or Kon, or Bart. But she doesn't. Cissie showers and lets the water run over her, thinking of Cassie, broken in her hospital bed, and she doesn't cry.
Cissie realizes abruptly that she's angry. She's so angry. She's scared for Cassie, for what happened, what could have happened, what almost happened, what did happen, and she's angry. She's angry that they're all blaming themselves--no one has said anything, but she knows they are--and she's angry that this keeps happening. That the people she loves most in the world keep dying or nearly dying, and that there is nothing she can do about it.
And that is entirely her own fault.
She quit. She walked away. She wasn't there. She wasn't there when Kon died. She wasn't there when Bart died. She wasn't there this time either, when Cassie needed help. Even if all she did was monitor communications, she would have known something was wrong before it was too late.
And there Cissie goes, blaming herself. Just like Bart is blaming himself, and Tim is blaming himself and Kon is blaming himself. And does any of that self blame help Cassie? No. None of it changes what happened.
Cissie stops by her bow when she is leaving the apartment. She just stops, and looks at it. She remembers. She remembers how it felt to be with her friends in the field, to shoot in a way that's completely different than how she's been shooting since. She remembers all the times Cassie asked--begged--her to come back. For just this moment, she feels like if Cassie asked it of her again, she would say yes. If it meant Cassie was awake, and not broken.
And then she thinks of Cassie in that hospital bed, and how broken and scared everyone is, and she wants. For just a second, she wants to pick up her bow, find the people responsible for doing that to Cassie--for killing Bart--for killing Kon--for Marcy, for Greta, for Tim for Kon for Bart for Cassie. Cassie.
Cissie wants those people to hurt like she hurts. Like they hurt.
But she takes a shuddering breath and unfolds her fists and turns her back on her bow.
And she doesn't cry.
~*~
Cissie stops at the bakery on the way back to the hospital, and fills Wanda in on what's happening. Thanks her for filling in on short notice, overlooks that Wanda was practicing her piping on the countertop, and leaves with bags of pastries, donuts, muffins, bread and bagels. Portable, easy-to-grab food that maybe people will eat if it is made available to them.
When she returns to the hospital, her first stop is the waiting room, where Kon has fallen into an exhausted sleep stretched out across a row of chairs, and Diana and Donna are talking in quiet voices in a corner. She spreads the food out on one of the tables, and takes a bag of turnovers and snickerdoodles into Cassie's room for Tim and Bart. She hugs Tim, gives Bart a kiss and just touches Cassie's hand for a moment before leaving the room with a promise to return. Seeing Cassie like this again takes her breath away, even if she only left an hour ago.
Cissie finds Cassie's mother in a quiet corner, sitting by one of the windows. Helena Sandsmark looks like they all do, like she hasn't slept at all, and her eyes are red. There's something fundamentally wrong about that--mothers shouldn't cry. The only time Cissie can remember her own mother crying is when her father died, and that was only when she didn't know Cissie was in the room.
(She wonders for about half a second if Bonnie would cry like this.)
Cissie sits down next to Cassie's mother, who has been at times so much more of a mother to her than her own, and quietly passes her a blueberry muffin.
"Thank you, Cissie." Dr. Sandsmark smiles at her, and though it doesn't reach her eyes, Cissie knows she's trying to be reassuring. She takes Cissie's hand and squeezes it. "All of you. For being here. For everything. It means a lot to me. And it will to Cassie, when she wakes up."
Cissie thinks that's wrong. She should be the one reassuring her. She's been doing it all night. All day. Telling herself--and the others--that everything will be all right. She opens her mouth.
We wouldn't be anywhere else.
She's going to be okay.
Cassie's strong.
She'll get through this.
We'll get through this.
We'll be okay.
We're sorry.
I'm sorry.
All that comes out is a kind of choking sound, and then she is being hugged.
And she realizes that she is crying.
At some point, Bart switches places with Dr. Sandsmark, and Cissie clings to him.
Because Bart was dead. And now he's not.
And Cassie is going to live.