Laura Villenueve (stcosmas) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-04-13 08:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | marassa jumeaux 1, marassa jumeaux 2 |
some would say i'm possessed, yeah
Who: Laura & John.
What: Laura gets home from a late shift, and John's waiting up.
Where: #705.
When: 2 a.m.
The gentle sound of keys jingling gave her a focal point to push through her exhaustion; one key into the lock, turn, and then she was opening the door as quietly as possible. That, of course, didn't last long as confusion rankled her mind at the quiet roar of the TV in the living room.
"Johnny?" Who else would it have been? Anaise should've been in bed at that hour; unless he had a guest, which seemed unlikely, there was no reason for the TV to be on. Laura paused, dropping her bag and her coat on the hooks installed near the front door for such a purpose, and carefully padded into the living area.
John was propped up against the armrest of the couch, watching late-night recaps of local sports. He was not truly paying attention; a book was open on his lap, a thick text he was nearly finished with by the looks of it. "Well hello," he said, a bright smile breaking over his face. "How was work, superhero? You save a bunch of lives?"
An unconscious smile turned up the side of her mouth; she looked mildly out of place amid the bright colors of the apartment in her blue scrubs, and she crossed the room to pass a hand over his close-cropped hair. One hip sank into the back of the couch.
"One car crash victim, more scared than hurt. Otherwise the usual suspects; nothing else interesting to report, unless you're a masochist for detail," she replied. Hands went back to her sides as she crossed her arms loosely over her chest. "How's our girl? She go down all right?"
"After a dramatic reading of Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur Volume One," John laughed. He reached back and took her hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "With pauses when I didn't get a voice 'right.' Obviously." He nodded toward the kitchen. "Lemon pepper chicken and wild rice in the fridge for you. Anaise ate all the green beans before I could save you some."
She squeezed his hand back, grinning wide. "I'm not gonna complain that the Lord saw fit to give me a child who eats too many vegetables, instead of none at all." Both hands came together over his as she pushed away from the couch. "I'm gonna get some pajamas on, and just check on her real quick. Be right back." Her left hand held on to his, her right touching his crown once more before she quietly moved from the room entirely, headed toward her bedroom. She stopped by a slightly ajar door with a large unicorn sticker on its front, pushing it in enough to peek her head inside. Anaise was asleep, turned away from the door, buried under blankets and pillows and the obnoxious amount of stuffed animals that she insisted on sleeping with. Only the very end of her riotous hair proved that the lump on her bed could be proven to be Laura's daughter.
Assured that her child was safe, she removed herself to her room and changed into the aforementioned pajamas. Her scrubs went into a separate clothing bin marked specially for work clothes; in the event of a particularly messy workday, she changed at work, but every other day had her making sure whatever might follow her home was safely kept away from the rest of her family. Then she donned purple and gold plaid pajama bottoms with a semi-matching shirt emblazoned with a Saints' logo, let her hair down, and headed off to the kitchen to heat up some of the food John had left for her.
In less than ten minutes, she was rejoining him on the couch, stretching languidly on her section, her feet neatly folded next to his knees as they met at a perpendicular angle while she stabbed a bite of chicken and rice.
"And how'd your day go?" She chewed, though her eyes were rapt on her brother's face.
"Like they always do," John said. He wrapped a hand around her ankle, patting her smooth skin. "Better now you're here." He smirked. "I did have a little run-in the other day at your hospital. New doctor, some young buck thinks he knows better than I do about this." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Hell, better than his patient. I've never… well. Almost never seen anything like it."
Her brows drew together across her forehead; she swallowed before replying. "It wasn't a guy named Peters, was it?" John winked and pointed an index finger at her; she smiled and shook her head at his reaction. "Not that he's the only new doctor, but he does..." she shrugged, her fork moving rice around on her plate. "He's green. A few losses on the floor and I think he'll understand the real depth of the line of work he's in.
"Told me he's a doctor 'to make better people's lives for his having been in them,' which is a little arrogant, but not surprising," she finished, forking another bite into her mouth. "I take it his patient isn't doing well? You'd think he would have advised the family to check all their options."
John shook his head. "You'd think," he echoed. "His patient invited me herself, which he clearly found very upsetting. He's got a lot of passion for the job, which I hope he keeps. If he directed that appropriately he might end up being one hell of a physician. As it is…" He shrugged. "He reminds me of those doctors who strongarm octogenarians into stress tests or chemo or dialysis because it'll save their lives. Nevermind what quality of life--" He raised a hand, palm facing his twin. He exhaled on a slow sigh. "I'm sorry. Preaching to the choir, I know."
Laura gently half-kicked his leg, keeping movement at a minimum so she didn't upset her plate.
"You can always preach to this choir," she replied, one hand holding a fork speared with chicken to point in his direction, smiling easily despite her tiredness. "It's better you blow off steam here at home than at work. If he gets to be half as passionate as you, and maybe a little more grown up, yeah, he'd be pretty impressive.
"He kept his cool during a firearm injury the other night that came in without warning; I guess it was only a matter of time before some issue raised its head." She pulled the chicken off the fork with her teeth, scraping rice together into a small mound in the middle of her bowl to finish off the meal. Shrugging, she looked back to her brother. "Besides, it's not like you have to deal with him on a daily basis like I do. Unless you wanna swap jobs for a day?" Her brows raised challengingly.
"God no. I'll take 'em on their way out. You deal with keeping them in. I think we're quite suited to where we've each ended up." He reached out as she finished the little pile of rice; he took the plate and fork from her, leaning up to set them on the coffee table. Then he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her over toward him on the couch until her head rested on his broad shoulder; she complained not at all, sighing unconsciously as one hand came to curl on his chest. "You'll set him straight," he said. His deep laugh rumbled through them both, and she smiled at the feeling. "Or run him off. Either way, your patients will thank you."
She shook her head in amusement. "Honestly, if that's the worst we've got to deal with now, it's not that bad. I just wish we knew who left the king cake outside. It's creepy." Laura sat up, drawing away from John for just a moment to change the TV channel to another playing late night, adult-oriented cartoons. Right at that moment, Cleveland Brown was giving away the punchline, a laugh track making the humor land flat. She snuggled up with him again. "You don't have to wait up for me, you know. You're not gonna be much help to anyone if you're falling asleep on your feet."
"You calling me old?" he teased. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her close. "I can still stay up, especially for you. And I've got to make sure you get into bed at a reasonable hour. You can't stay up all night watching bad TV and wondering who in this building has a secret crush on you, leaving you sweets and shit. You need to wind down. For real."
"Ugh," she replied, her eyes already half closed. "I am. The noise just helps me sleep. It's too quiet in this part of the world." Another breath, and she went still, half laying on him with her face pressed into the side of his neck. The obnoxious cartoon blared on in the background, but for all intents and purposes, Laura seemed as dead to the world as her daughter slumbering away in the next room.
John nearly nodded off alongside her, but a hard bobbing of his head woke him up. He grabbed the remote and switched off the television. Then he lifted Laura up from the couch as he rose, holding her against his chest and carrying her off to her bedroom. He tucked her in as he had earlier done for Anaise, with gentle motions that kept her from waking. Then he kissed her forehead, smiling softly as he turned off the lights, and moved off in near silence to his own room.