Original Ficlet: Righteous Babe (PG)
Title: Righteous Babe
Author: Melanie (vogirl78)
Rating: PG
Summary: "You can do this," he says.
********
He watches her on good days, when she talks freely and works through the steps, arms clasped around her knees on the swing, smoking cigarettes end-to-end. She's a crier. It's always very dramatic, always epic. He listens to tales of abuse and struggles for independence, watches her wiping snot away compulsively even when she's not crying because it's a symptom of the withdrawals. Like frequent urination, or thrashing about in her sleep, or what she calls "rocket-ass." He sits on the porch for hours, listening as she lists reasons why she isn't worth the dust she's made of, listening to the undercurrent of hope that runs beneath and belies everything she says against herself. He holds her when she needs holding, reminds her that her parents don't know everything, don't know her. Not really.
He watches her on bad days, when she steals his credit card and takes out money. She has to wait until he's asleep, because he's learned to keep his wallet in his car and his car keys in his jeans, under the dresser, behind a pillow. He sleeps light and she has to be silent, stifling curses at her traitorous body which has developed popping joints and the deep rumbling breath of a dedicated smoker. Sometimes she gives him sleeping pills to make it easier. He doesn't really understand why she sneaks around, since he always finds out anyway, the next day. Forty dollars missing from his account - she bought an eight milligram last night. Her odometer registers thirty-five miles over what it did last night. Does she think he doesn't notice these things? And then, confrontation. Confession. Weeping. More promises - promises he doesn't wait for anymore. But he loves her, and he has to be strong for both of them, and he stays.
He watches her all the time now, because she has asked him to. She's trying. Sometimes she looks at him, smiling, and says "You can have me back." Sometimes she breaks, unprovoked, and he gives her two yellow clonazepam and rocks her in his arms until it's just tears and shivering.
He looks at her, tipping her chin up and enforcing eye contact. Brown boring into swimmy hazel. Takes her hands and lifts them into loose fists, one a little higher than the other:
"You can do this," he says. "You can do this because you're...? Come on, say it."
"A righteous babe," she sniffles, feeling silly and lucky.
"You're a righteous babe," he affirms, and tucks her head into his shoulder.
"You can do this," he says.
Author: Melanie (vogirl78)
Rating: PG
Summary: "You can do this," he says.
********
He watches her on good days, when she talks freely and works through the steps, arms clasped around her knees on the swing, smoking cigarettes end-to-end. She's a crier. It's always very dramatic, always epic. He listens to tales of abuse and struggles for independence, watches her wiping snot away compulsively even when she's not crying because it's a symptom of the withdrawals. Like frequent urination, or thrashing about in her sleep, or what she calls "rocket-ass." He sits on the porch for hours, listening as she lists reasons why she isn't worth the dust she's made of, listening to the undercurrent of hope that runs beneath and belies everything she says against herself. He holds her when she needs holding, reminds her that her parents don't know everything, don't know her. Not really.
He watches her on bad days, when she steals his credit card and takes out money. She has to wait until he's asleep, because he's learned to keep his wallet in his car and his car keys in his jeans, under the dresser, behind a pillow. He sleeps light and she has to be silent, stifling curses at her traitorous body which has developed popping joints and the deep rumbling breath of a dedicated smoker. Sometimes she gives him sleeping pills to make it easier. He doesn't really understand why she sneaks around, since he always finds out anyway, the next day. Forty dollars missing from his account - she bought an eight milligram last night. Her odometer registers thirty-five miles over what it did last night. Does she think he doesn't notice these things? And then, confrontation. Confession. Weeping. More promises - promises he doesn't wait for anymore. But he loves her, and he has to be strong for both of them, and he stays.
He watches her all the time now, because she has asked him to. She's trying. Sometimes she looks at him, smiling, and says "You can have me back." Sometimes she breaks, unprovoked, and he gives her two yellow clonazepam and rocks her in his arms until it's just tears and shivering.
He looks at her, tipping her chin up and enforcing eye contact. Brown boring into swimmy hazel. Takes her hands and lifts them into loose fists, one a little higher than the other:
"You can do this," he says. "You can do this because you're...? Come on, say it."
"A righteous babe," she sniffles, feeling silly and lucky.
"You're a righteous babe," he affirms, and tucks her head into his shoulder.
"You can do this," he says.