|Terpsichore | Τερψιχορη (danceoflife) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2016-06-02 01:58:00
Who: Terspichore, David Richardson, Apollo, Thalia, open to the Muses and Zeus
What: This day is officially the worst
When Wednesday night
Where: JKO School, hospital
Warnings Violence, mentions of drug use, some language
It had been a long day, and Terpsichore's muscles had the pleasant ache they got after a full day of teaching. Spending so much time en pointe sometimes took a toll on her, but she wouldn't have traded it for anything. After dismissing her last class of the day, she eased herself down onto a bench, relishing in the feeling of being off her feet for a few moments. A movement of to the side caught her eye, but it was just David, coming back from replacing the boombox they had used for the class.
"Got you some water," he said, smiling. He passed her one of the bottles of water he'd acquired, and she smiled up at him. "You're my favorite," she told him, unscrewing the cap and draining a third of the bottle in one long gulp. She slumped against the wall, or as much as Terpsichore ever slumped, anyway. "Your mom coming to get you?" she asked David, who was packing up his bag.
He shook his head. "Naw, she's either still sleeping, or just woke up, she works third shift. I'll get the train, it'll be fine."
"I don't mind driving you-" she began, but sounds of a commotion from the lobby made her stop, head cocked to one side. "D'you hear that?" she asked.
"Yeah, sounds like someone's pitching a fit," he said, face scrunched up in confusion.
The voices and noises continued to get louder, as though whoever it was was headed right for them. The two of them barely had time to voice a thought as to who it might be, before the door burst open and an irate woman stormed in. She looked as though she might have once been pretty, but hard drugs had stripped her of most of that beauty, and made her seem older than her 27 years. Terpsichore remembered when she'd been gorgeous, beautiful and so incredibly talented. Then her ex-boyfriend had introduced her to cocaine, and later heroin. Terpsichore had caught her snorting lines in the bathroom, and the company had terminated her immediately. She knew the other woman hated her for it, but Terpsichore knew it wasn't her fault. Candace's poor choices had been solely to blame for what happened to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
"Candace," Terpsichore said warily.
"Bitch," Candace snapped, and that's when Terpsichore noticed the sledgehammer in her hand. It was almost as long as Candace's arm, big and ugly, and meant to destroy.
"Can I help you?" Terpsichore asked, for all the world like they were having a pleasant conversation after practice.
"You ruined my life, you bitch!" Candace screamed. "All I ever wanted to do was dance. I was great at it! But noooo, little Miss Goody Two Shoes had to rat me out. You know how many people snort or shoot up, bitch? Do you?!"
"I've never seen them," Terpsichore said calmly. "I walked in on you, you weren't even trying to hide what you were doing. How were you going to dance all coked up, anyway, hmm? From what I understand, it makes you really twitchy."
Candace's face was white with rage, and she advanced on Terpsichore. Her fingers did indeed twitch around the handle of the hammer, but the look in her eyes was pure, focused hatred. A spike of fear flitted through Terpsichore's heart, and she suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. But by the time she had that thought, it was far too late. The hammer swung through the air, and smashed down onto Terpsichore's foot. The sudden shock was replaced instantly by blinding pain, and she fell off the bench she'd been sitting on, curled into a ball as if to protect herself from further blows.
"If I can never dance again, bitch, than neither can you," Candace spat, turning on her heel and stalking from the room. David, who had been completely ignored by Candace in her rage, practically threw himself onto the floor to check on Terpsichore, who was trying her best not to scream in pain.
"What...what can I do?" he asked, his voice breathless and scared.
"Get my phone," she managed to grit out. "Call my brother, he's in there under 'Mr. Golden Sun'. Then my sister, she's 'Knock-Knock'. Impress upon my brother the importance of getting here quickly."
David did as he was asked, his fingers shaking as he dialed the numbers and spoke to people who were no doubt Greek gods of some stripe, but he couldn't be bothered to care about that right now. They promised they'd be there as soon as they could, but until then, all David could do was sit and hold her hand.
Not even 20 minutes later, a huge blonde man stalked into the room, followed by a smaller woman with multi-colored hair, who looked terrified. "Oh my god, Terps," she gasped, staring at the mess that Terpsichore's left foot had become.
Apollo dropped down beside her, assessing the damage. "I'll have to cut the shoe off to get at this," he informed Terpsichore. "And I'm guessing there isn't anything around here that will do that."
Terpsichore shook her head. "Not unless you want to use normal scissors and take forever."
He let out an impatient sound. "Then what-"
"I called for an ambulance," David piped up. "The second I got off the phone with you." He gestured at Thalia.
Apollo nodded. "Good. I'm going to see if I can get them to take you to a hospital I have privileges at, because, not to toot my own horn, but you'll need to be under my care if you ever want to put weight on that foot again, let alone dance on it."
Terpsichore finally let a few tears leak out. "If I can't dance, then what good am I?" she whispered.
Thalia sank down next to her. "Don't talk like that," she said, talking Terpsichore's other hand. "Apollo will fix you up, and you'll be back to teaching before you know it. And maybe he'll put an arrow in whoever did this to you."
"The thought's definitely crossed my mind," Apollo muttered darkly, gently lowering Terpsichore's foot onto a cushion made out of his jacket.
At the moment, a pair of paramedics burst into the room, and began assessing Terpsichore's injuries. They gently maneuvered her onto a body board, and strapped her in place to keep her from falling while they took her to the ambulance. Apollo had managed to convince them to take her to a hospital where he'd be allowed to look after her. Terpsichore, who until this point, had been struggling to remain conscious, passed out once they'd given her a shot of painkillers.
None of the three left were willing to just leave her on her own, so they all piled into Apollo's car and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Only Apollo was allowed back into the ER to see her, so Thalia and David were left huddled next to each other on the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room.
"Hey," Thalia said softly, and David looked up at her. "Thank you. For calling us, and staying with her. You've got a cooler head than most guys your age."
David laughed, but there was no humor in it. "She had the cooler head, honestly. She made me get her phone and call you both. And I just knew the ambulance was the next logical step."
Thalia squeezed his hand. "Still. We won't forget this, any of us. You're a good kid. She loves teaching you, you can tell. When she talks about her students, she talks about you the most."
David finally managed a tiny smile. "I knew her as Miss Tara first, so I still call her that. I sometimes forget that she's Terpsichore, and the muse of dance is teaching me how to dance. And I have to hold onto the belief that eventually her foot will be back to normal."
"Apollo is the god of healing," Thalia told him. "And time has been kind to him. If anyone can fix her up, it's him. None of us would trust anyone else to do it."
David just nodded, and Thalia pulled out her phone, firing off texts to all the other muses, plus their father. They all deserved to know what had happened.