Re: Capital: Sam & Cris
"Nah, I don't. It's been all over you for months, yeah? How you feel. It's why we argued in the car. How you feel isn't something I'm imagining, yeah? I get it's not ALL you feel about me, for me, but it's there, papi, it's part of what's going on with us. I didn't see it until late, because I'm not so smart, but it's there." But even with all that arguing, she still touched his face light when he said he was ashamed, yeah? With Pilar and Meredith. "You don't got anything to be ashamed of, Cris, not ever. I know I can't make you believe that by just saying it, but it's true." And that kept her calmer as he led into her needing some reason to stay clean, not valuing herself and how he couldn't give her what she needed. It was quiet when she talked, because she wasn't gonna fight, yeah? She still remembered how he sounded in that car, how much he NEEDED, and she wanted to actually fucking give it for once. So getting on his ass about how his song had changed in a year, that wasn't gonna happen, not in this quiet hallway, anyway. "It's not about valuing myself," was all she said, quiet. "I didn't go looking to be an addict, and it's not about valuing myself. It's about- It hurts."
Simple, and she was glad maybe he couldn't get it, yeah? He wasn't a junkie, and thank fucking GOD for that. But she didn't wanna talk about Neil either, and she just smiled a little gappy when he said he wanted her to want a kid with him. She did, yeah? She just wished it was a decade down the line or something, when she was clean, and when they weren't arguing in a hospital hallway with the world starting to spin.
"I think all of me is too much, yeah? That's kinda what you're saying. I'm trying to make that better." Quiet, and THAT was shame. Cheeks bright red, but it was ok, because he kissed her, and she forgot to ask if she was being shallow, or if their relationship at the beginning was shallow. She didn't know which he meant, but none of that shit mattered when he was saying he needed her, loved her, and his thumbs were on her cheeks, and she kissed him hard and with teeth and whine and desperation. Her body against his HURT, and the world was spinning in circles, and she still never wanted it to stop, yeah? She tried to tangle IV-tethered fingers into his hair, but she couldn't get her arm high enough, and she cursed against his lips.
And, ok, ok, she was gonna at least manage this baby thing, yeah? She could do that. She squeezed her eyes closed and reminded herself that she'd survived a lot of shit in four years, and she could do THIS. Right? So, she nodded, and she managed to regrip her IV pole better, and she walked through the doors that parted on the cheerily painted wing - yellow and green, like that would make parents forget their kids were sick as fuck or something.
But she forced herself to the window, and she ignored the nurse that looked up and motioned toward the NICU nursery door. Not yet, yeah? Despite the fact that she should REALLY sit down, and her pallor said as much. But she was trying to make heads or tails out of the little baby incubators, and fuck if she could make out names or see much of anything past all the fucking cords on the infants inside.