InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I AM JUST TOO CLOSE!"

Neil Donovan is (incharge) wrote in rooms,
@ 2015-09-07 21:56:00

Entry tags:

!ocean's eleven, *log, meredith janssen, neil donovan

quicklog, vegas hospital (ocean's eleven): neil & mere
[Neil wasn't drunk.

He was hungover, though. After parting ways with Sam he'd stopped off for a couple of bottles of whiskey and got himself a hotel room. Drank himself back into oblivion. All afternoon, all night, and in the morning he dumped the rest out and got some coffee. He showered twice. Brushed his teeth three times. But even with a change of clothes and his skin scrubbed raw the sickly sweet scent of booze clung, faintly, and his eyes were bloodshot, his face haggard. Stubble had started to show. But he knew he needed to see Mere regardless of how he looked, and despite his fear of taking care of her he did want to see her. Guilt roiled in his belly; he couldn't eat anything. He seemed to only be existing on liquids these days, and sleep? Sleep was passing out drunk, that was the only way he could manage it. He wondered if pills could, eventually, replace the booze when (if) he went back to A.A.

For now, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. On going into the hospital without turning on heel and running the fuck away like the coward he was.

Up the elevator and down the hallways, Neil shuffled along until he found her room. Nobody stopped him, nobody said he couldn't go in, so he knocked lightly before pushing the door open.]

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quicklog, vegas hospital (ocean's eleven): neil & mere

ex_perspecti86
2015-09-10 12:54 am UTC (link)

[Meredith wasn't talking. Doctors came and went, nurses in their softer shoes that checked this and that, the scratch of pen on paper, the beep of some sort of monitor that she couldn't see let alone name. They came and went and the world around her continued to revolve but Meredith didn't say anything.

What was there to say? Things had happened that were beyond a proper, logical explanation. She was attacked, she was raped, and that's all there was really to say. So she didn't say anything more, even when they spoke to her, instead simply curling in on her side to let the world pass by around her. She had been moved from ICU the day prior, and with it came a little more peace, for which she was grateful for. But that didn't make any of it okay.

If someone had asked her, before all of this, to imagine what it was like being blind, she would have imagined darkness. But it wasn't about darkness, not in the absolute sense. There was simply nothing. A grey expanse of nothing, though there were shadows, dim and barely there, when they removed the bandages to check the progress of the healing. But the grey came back when the bandages were replaced, hiding the mess of her eyes, swollen skin that had only recently started to cool from infection.

There were IVs in both arms, antibiotics, pain meds, and pale skin was still covered in a plethora of bruises. The worst was hidden beneath the blankets that were pulled up to her waist, the stitches and the bruising, the worried whispers of a possibility that she wouldn't be able to have children again. Meredith tried not to listen, tried not to worry, but it was a battle she was losing.

When Neil arrived, she was sleeping - actually asleep, not the faking that she often did. There was a white swath of bandages around her eyes and head, bruises peaking out from beneath, lips parted slightly in sleep. She had lost weight, shadows at her cheeks, her hands a little bonier. She slept, and she didn't hear him enter.]

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Re: quicklog, vegas hospital (ocean's eleven): neil & mere

incharge
2015-09-10 01:11 am UTC (link)

[It was cowardly (big surprise), but Neil didn't want to hear what the doctors had to say. He didn't want to know. They'd tried, before, while he waited, medical terms put into layman's English, and he'd just wanted to shut it all out. He didn't want to think about Mere being blind, or Mere not being able to—Christ, he didn't want to think about that part of it at all. He couldn't even think the word. Rape. This was the shit he drank to forget and he wished, he wished, he could be the kind of man he needed. But he wasn't, and so the poor woman was stuck with an alcoholic who couldn't even be sober for a day before coming to see her in the goddamn hospital.

He stopped in the doorway. Froze right the fuck up. The sight of her in the bed, pale and bruised, IVs and machines hooked up, made him feel dizzy. Guilt made him feel sick. How could he not feel like this was his fault, how could he not blame himself?

She didn't stir, which made Neil think that she was actually asleep. So he was quiet, easing the door shut behind him and carefully making his way to her bedside.] I'm sorry, Mere. [His voice was a whisper as he looked down at her, and he didn't know what the hell to do. Stay? Go? He glanced over his shoulder, torn, before he finally decided to just... stay. A little while couldn't hurt, even if she didn't wake up. He grabbed a chair, dragged it over (still quiet), and sat. He didn't have the heart to wake her up.]