Meg Callahan (setinstone) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-10-21 21:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 21, derek miller, louisa may smith, | derek and louisa may |
Week 21: Saturday
Characters: Louisa May, Meghan, and Derek
Location: Derek's Room
Summery: Meg's giving the Doc a tour, they come up on Derek, who vents some pretty deep issues.
Rating: R for language
When Meg first offered to take Louisa May on a tour of the house, she’d agreed to it, even though she had to admit to being a bit amused at first. She hadn’t spent much time around the visually impaired, outside of the occasional patient who was mostly bed-bound, and now that she’d seen Meg in action, she had to admit that the woman’s easy way of navigating around the house was quite impressive.
She’d already seen the living and dining areas, but she had to admit to being curious about seeing the rest of the house too. So she walked alongside Meg and Sarge, looking around as Meg narrated the tour.
“Not much in the way of surprises up here.” Meg quipped pleasantly: her usual public relations voice a good window into the former disk jockey’s personality. Laid back. Loves jokes. Extremely difficult to offend. “Bedroom, bedroom, dungeon, secret passage, ballroom, bathroom...” Points accompanied her words in the appropriate direction from her free hand. One might like to note that the ‘dungeon’ and ‘ballroom’ were linen closets. The ‘secret passage’’ was the laundry chute that went down to the cellar.
Louisa May chuckled at that. “Pretty small dungeon, gotta say,” she replied. “The one at my place is easily twice as large. Might be a deal-breaker.”
“Heh, I’ll hafta come check that out sometime.” Meg pushed her hand through her hair by habit, pausing in the hallway with her foot against the wall, reflexively, keeping her bearings. “It’s not a million dollar mansion, but at least this many people keeps it warm in--”
The blind woman paused mid-sentence... her face blank, fogged eyes forward as she zeroed in on something.
The bridge of her nose wrinkled. “Derek? You up here?”
Shit goddamn fuck. Meg was up here. Derek went perfectly still, as if that would make Meg change her mind and go away once her freakish ears had picked up the sound of his movement. His room was a mess, clothes scattered as he tried to shove everything he could carry into a duffle bag.
With all the commotion downstairs, it had been easy to slip upstairs for his things. Derek didn’t know what to do about Leo so he wasn’t doing anything. These people could do whatever they wanted once he was gone. Derek was sorry about leaving the doctor but it couldn’t be helped. She’d been doing fine before and she’d be fine without and he roundly ignored the part of him that worried about it.
It was time to go. He’d have his things together soon and then all he had to was slip away. Just as soon as he got rid of Meg. Good thing she was blind and couldn’t see him packing.
“What do you want?” Only one problem when he pulled open the door. Meg might be blind but Louisa May sure as hell wasn’t. Fuck.
“Just going on tour of the place,” Louisa May replied pleasantly, as the door swung open to reveal what was obviously Derek in the middle of packing up his things. “What... what’s going on here?” she said, suddenly feeling a pit form in the bottom of her stomach.
Something in him twisted. “Look, don’t worry about it.”
Meg wasn’t by nature a nosy person, but the cryptic change in the doctor’s voice, not to mention the wording, caught her alarm. Derek’s standoffish attitude was something she was used to, but the edge in his voice was familiar.
Meghan’s smile was gone.
“I take it you’re not wrapping presents...” Humor without humor: Meg’s defense mechanism just kicked in.
Louisa May had clean forgotten that the woman beside her couldn’t see what she could. “He’s packing,” she replied by way of explanation, exhaling slowly. “And don’t worry? What do you mean by that, huh? I shouldn’t worry about you? Cause I can guarantee that’s not gonna happen,” she replied sharply, a note of panic in her voice. This was not good. This was not good at all. Louisa May knew it’d be hard for Derek to stick around here, but she certainly hadn’t anticipated his leaving so soon, and it knocked the wind right out of her.
“I’ve been on my own a long time.” Derek answered Louisa but his eyes were on Meg, worried about she was going to do. “I don’t need to be here.”
Meg had been stuck on the word ‘packing’ since Louisa May explained what she was missing, what she had heard behind Derek’s door as she stood beside it a minute earlier. The expression on her face was hard to read (moreso than usual, given the woman’s less than expressive eyes), but one thing was certain. It had an edge to it.
She and Derek had history, to say the least. Even if it wasn’t incredibly detailed, there was a connection shared that no one else in the group had: a unique dynamic that was hard to define--and though they’d jumped down each other’s throats before, Meg had never actually done it in anger. Until now.
She stepped forward, tracing the line of the door with her free hand until it blocked Derek from slamming it: her whisper was courteous of the others downstairs, but had a rancor that wove with underlying worry. “Get your ass back in there...” Hissed, and followed with action... Meg and Sarge passed right by him and into his room. Intent obvious.
She wasn’t leaving.
Derek turned a glare onto the blind woman feeling somehow invaded. This was not going to be like the last time he’d talked about leaving. It wasn’t as if either of the two women could kiss him and convince him to stay.
“Go back to your husband, Meg.”
When Meg and Sarge marched into Derek’s room, Louisa May paused for a moment before following behind. She wasn’t sure if it was her place to witness this, so she stayed in the doorway, arms folded, lips tightly pressed together. When he gave Meg his cutting reply, however, she stepped in before he derailed the conversation.
“Derek, think about this, please. It’s the middle of winter, it’s getting dark out, it’s just not safe for you to up and take off.” It was a poor argument to make, but she wasn’t thinking as clearly as she should have been.
Meg wouldn’t have answered him anyway, even if the other woman hadn’t interjected--though she was glad Louisa had. She simply stood in the middle of his room, remembering the layout, but disoriented by all the clutter that impeded her feet on her way in. Meg only let go of the mastiff’s lead and folded her arms, shoulders squared. She was done being diplomatic.
If Derek wanted to leave... she wasn’t going to make it easy.
“I’ve been in worse situations than that,” Derek pointed out. He turned his back to the pair of them to go back to stuffing clothes in a bag. “Things have gotten complicated around here so I’m going to simplify them: I’m gone.”
Louisa May shook her head. “You really think you’ll be happier somewhere else? By yourself? Y’all hadn’t come along, I probably would’ve eaten my daddy’s shotgun in a coupla months. That’s no way to live. And your problems aren’t gonna go away just because you’ve got a change of scene.” After a pause, she softly added, “Please. Derek. Don’t go.”
She looked to Meg to see what the other woman would do -- Meg had been around Derek for longer than she had, and she knew they’d have a history -- perhaps she’d know what would get through to him.
Meg just stood there: her lips touched by lipstick for the first time in --god knows how long-- pressed into a thin line and rolled. The woman was bristling like a pissed off cat, but she didn’t say anything. She was listening, to Derek. To the changes she could hear in his breath and the way his throat closed in his voice. She was trying to hold onto anything that would betray or support his vague argument... before she exploded.
Derek had never seen Meg manage to keep her mouth shut for so long but he’d take his small favors where he could get them. It was hard enough to handle Louisa. The doctor had taken him into her home, befriended him and Derek honestly enjoyed the past couple of days at her house. If only it was enough to overcome everything else.
“At least I’ll be somewhere that Seven isn’t.”
“And what? You think things’ll be hunky-fuckin’ dory if you just wander off?” Meg finally chimed in through gritted teeth. “You think things’ll be easier for anyone, all present company included, if you just pick up and fuckin’ run away from the people that--despite your cheery attitude-- kept you warm and fed and just might have grown to actually appreciate you bein’ around?” Her voice was tight, bordering on spiteful because of the obvious tide of emotion she was holding like a tight leash.
Derek was under fire from both sides and being outnumbered was starting to get under his skin. “That’s exactly what I think,” he answered, voice harsh. “You’ll finally be rid of the asshole.”
Louisa May moved into the room to be closer to him, and to see if she could catch his eye. “Seems to me you got a coupla people in here that don’t think that way,” she replied, making an effort to calm down. “And of all the people I’ve met here so far, you’re the last one I’d want to be rid of.” She swallowed, feeling a hard lump in her throat.
For the first time, Derek didn’t have an easy answer and he turned his eyes away from Louisa. The guilt was growing.
Meg sighed, catching the silence, but unable to really gage what was happening. She could tell Louisa had approached Derek--she knew he hadn’t walked away from the other woman. That was it.
“You’re smarter than this, Derek.” Her voice was losing it’s edge, but was clearly still tight. “A lot smarter.”
“I know this is asking a lot of you,” Louisa May added. “You have every right in the world to feel the way you do right now. But don’t let Leo drive you away. He isn’t worth the effort.” After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and touched his arm lightly. “And you deserve to be here.”
Derek pulled away from the doctor’s touch, moving away to find space on his bed to take a seat. “Would you stop ganging up on me?” he said harshly. The two women were making this too hard for him; Derek felt like he was nearly shaking. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’d certainly like the chance to,” Louisa May replied quietly, staying where she was rather than following him to the bed.
“What the hell did you expect?” Meg shifted weight, uncomfortable as everyone else. “That we’d just let you wander off? Do you think that little of yourself, that no one would notice?”
What Derek expected was that no one would care. He rubbed his hand up and down his left arm, tracing the line of the long raised scar there. “Mind your own business, Meg, or I’ll yell for Mike.”
Meghan’s jaw clenched, clearly flaring with a bit more anger than needed to be verbally expressed. She was silent for a moment, coiled and dangerous. Even Sarge picked up on the tension, and stood rigid at her thigh.
Finally, she shook her head and uttered through hissed teeth. “That can’t be what all this is about...”
Louisa May put up her hands. “Y’all both need to take a chill pill. I’m just saying this is not something you should jump into before thinking it through, Derek. You got a good thing goin on here, at least better than what a lot of folks have right now, with people that care about you. And waiting out the winter at the very least is just common sense. Right now, you’re angry, you’re uncomfortable, but please, don’t do something rash.”
“I don’t know what else to do...” he answered softly. Sevens and ropes and knives had been playing through his head too often recently.
Meg was trying to calm herself down, let alone comprehend the situation she was in, the torrent of feelings eating her from the inside out--including worry and guilt. She pushed a long nasal sigh, and dropped a hand to Sarge’s lead. When she spoke, it was with less of a serrated edge than before, but obviously still tense.
“What are you afraid of? ...that you would rather freeze or starve to death than be here? Do you think that guy’s springin’ some kind of ambush?” The question was honest. Flustered, but not sarcastic.
“That’s not it.” If he was being truly being honest, Derek didn’t think Leo would hurt him, not with that kid to look out for. He just didn’t see how he could stand to be around anyone with that mark.
Louisa May jumped in. “I was talking to Tom about getting a trailer moved up here, so I could have some privacy, and still be close by. Maybe... maybe that’d be something that would work better for you too? A little distance?” She paused. “You know I’d let you stay with me down in Medford til I got settled up here. But you’d still have to face these issues sooner or later.”
“You don’t even know what they are!” Derek exploded again. “You want to talk about being black and dealing with racism and jobs or in education or whatever else, fine. But you have no idea what this is like. So the two of you need to stop talking like you have any idea what’s going on and leave me alone!”
Louisa May’s mouth shut with a snap, as she was taken aback by this torrent of words from Derek. After she’d recovered a bit, she shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t know. But I certainly want to help you however I can. So tell us, Derek. What is going on?”
“We’re not mindreaders.” Meg chimed in quick enough, rubbing the leather of Sarge’s lead with the pad of her thumb in nervous habit. “What do you think is out there better than what you got here, huh?” She was on a roll with her questions, direct and bristled where poor Louisa had been so calm. “You givin’ up on us? Is that it? Do you want t’go out there an’die?”
“Yes!” Derek’s response was instinctual and brutally honest. He didn’t think he could ever kill himself but there was more than a small part of him that thought things would have been better for everyone - himself included - if he had just let the Sevens hang him. He took a deep staggering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He wished like hell Louisa and Meg were someplace else.
Upon hearing Derek’s revelation, Louisa May’s hands reflectively jerked up -- her first impulse was to go over and comfort the man, but he seemed to be a bundle of raw nerves, and she had no idea what he’d do if she tried. Anything she could think to say to him just sounded trite, though, and she couldn’t let that kind of pain hang there in the air without doing something. So she approached the bed slowly, sat down beside him, and simply put a hand on his back, tears springing into her eyes. She wished for a moment that she believed in God, even a little, so that she could say a prayer and have it really mean something -- but for now, this was the best she could do.
“Jesus...” The silence had a weight to it, one that attached itself to her heart and pulled it into her stomach. Meg was angry and worried and hurt... she was never equipped to deal with anything like this--and unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a filter for her thoughts when it came down to it. “So, why? What’s the logic that says ‘dead’ is better than here?”
Derek tensed at Louisa’s hand but didn’t pull away. The urge to touch his scar was strong and he had to fist his fingers in his jeans to keep still. “Isn’t it?” It seemed so obvious to Derek. “I could have had a life. Now I’m supposed to what, try and keep from starving until someone kills me anyways? I’ve been shot and I was almost hung. I’m dead already.”
No wonder he was so full of bitterness and anger. Louisa May kept her warm hand on his back, her eyes troubled. “I can’t say that I know what you’ve been going through, but I do know what it’s like not knowing whether life is worth living. Bein’ on my own for such a long time... well... what I said earlier, bout eating my daddy’s shotgun?” She took a deep, shaky breath. This was something she had a hard time admitting, but it deserved saying. “If you and Tom and Jed hadn’t showed up when you did, let’s just say I was running pretty low on reasons to keep on going. And thanks to you, I’ve got something worth sticking around for. Jesus Christ, do you know how long it had been since I had a decent conversation with anyone?” She wiped her tears away with her free hand. “And if you hadn’t been there, well, I’d have probably told Jed and Tom to get their honky asses off my property, and that would have been that.”
That last drew a breathy chuckle out of Derek. He wasn’t sure what to say back to the doctor. With the exception of a couple conversations with Meg, Derek hadn’t had many heart-to-hearts. “Bridget needs you here.” Yes, he was trying to avoid talking about himself.
“We aren’t focusing on Bridget.” Meg was well versed in people switching subjects. Truth be told, it was one of Michael’s favorite pass-times. She was guilty of it as well--which is probably why she recognized it so goddamned easily.
She went on, exasperated, but keeping it reigned as best she could. “You know very well you aren’t the only one who’s been shot or close to death.” Though she didn’t specify, those memories were fresh on the blind woman’s voice. It had a confrontational edge to it. Something she always had an ease showing with Derek (even when it was difficult with her own husband). “Did that feel good? You wanna go back to that? Lemme tell you somethin’, Cupcake, if you think your life here is so bad that you’d willingly go through that again, then you got some serious perception problems.”
She was still seething--shown by the thin, pale fingers twisted into her own arms. “...if you think anyone here wants to see you do that to yourself, you’re more fuckin’ blind than me.”
“What do you want from me, Meg?” His voice was frustrated, pushing back against her. “Louisa, I understand. I get her, whatever. But you? You don’t have anything to fucking do with me, so what do you want?”
Meg’s face twisted with a wash of hurt and rage, but mainly the former... the rage, however, wasn’t too far from her voice. “Are you so self-centered that you can’t comprehend someone actually liking you, without needing something from you--or wanting to fuck you? Quite simply, Derek, I don’t want a friend of mine to destroy himself. Why is that so hard to understand?”
“Nobody does anything for nothing,” Derek disagreed. “And if I wanted to destroy myself, I’d eat my gun. I just don’t give a shit about people trying to kill me.”
Louisa May made an involuntary clucking sound with her tongue. She folded her arms. “Mmm-hmmm, so you don’t give a damn about living, you don’t care what happens to you, and you don’t get why we’re worried? Derek, honey, you might not be eating your gun, but you sure aren’t in a good place right now, you gotta admit that much. Letting other people destroy you ain’t any different in my book.”
She shook her head. “Besides, you don’t strike me as the sort to give up that easy. You’re a fighter. When you were about to die, you didn’t just tell those men, ‘Do whatever you want to me.’ No. You killed those motherfuckers, and you kept going. You might not think you care about what happens to you, but there’s a part of you that does. And that’s the part that fought off the gang, and looked for other people to join up with, and I hope that part of you is listening to what we’re trying to tell you.”
“It’s hard!” The words were out before he could stop them. “I’m alone and it’s hard.”
Meghan’s eyes screwed shut tight, swallowing the spined lump of emotion that had lodged firmly in her throat. She was incredibly wired, wanting to pace or move or something other than stand still, trapped by the clutter in the room that would easily trip her. Finally, with a heady sigh, she just shoved her foot forward, pushing whatever soft thing lay on the floor in front of it so she could edge closer to Derek’s voice. She lowered to her knees, knowing he was sitting, but not trusting her judgement to attempt the same.
That’s when she blindly reached out with one hand, catching first the bed, then the side of his leg. Her palm turned upward, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from him--even if he wouldn’t give it, her hand would stay there.
“It is hard. But you aren’t alone. When you first told me you wanted to leave, I told you the same thing I’m saying now. Nothing has changed.” Before that kiss. Before Mike showed up. Before she had something--even a little thing-- to hide. She was still telling the truth. Despite all of that--it was the same. “I don’t want you to go.”
Louisa May’s hand returned to Derek’s back, affirming their connection and her agreement with the other woman. “Stay,” she added to Meg’s appeal.
Meg wanting him to stay only made things harder. It would only make him want her and make him resent her husband. Still, she wanted him to stay and that meant something. They both did and it seemed for no other reason than they liked having him around. It was strange for him to be touched like this these days. Louisa’s hand was reassuring against his back and Meg seemed to be waiting for something. Slowly, he traced a single fingertip across her palm and then pulled away.
He felt exhausted, drained. “Okay.”
Louisa May smiled, leaning in a little to Derek. “Well, thank goodness for that. Cause my next plan was to tie you to the bed til you got some sense back in you.”
It was a relief to laugh. “That’d turn me on but she’s married and you’re not playing for my team.”
The heat of embarrassment rose in Louisa May’s cheeks almost instantly, but it was good to see Derek smiling. She shook her head and pushed his shoulder lightly. “Well, too bad for you,” she replied.
The release of tension in the room was definitely a relief, though it was pretty apparent that Meghan was still wound pretty tight. She felt the storm had passed, especially with the subtle jokes (or maybe not-so-subtle), but at the same time, the worry was still there. Even if the anger wasn’t.
She sighed lightly, tiredly. She’d been up very early to help prepare the meal, and let Ana have her way with her with make-up and hair styling products that smelled like cinnamon... and this conversation had drained her as much as it did the other two occupants in the room. She turned her hand down onto Derek’s knee and gave a small reassuring squeeze. There was little hesitation at the bit of information passed in those jokes, but Meg just moved past it.
“C’mon... you realize it’s Christmas, right?” She said to Derek softly, hopefully.
“I’d heard that.” The answer was sarcastic in nature but the tone was more gentle.
“Not to mention, there’s a pretty good spread downstairs. You seen all that food?” Louisa May grinned. “Definitely worth checking out.”
Smelling all that food was just as good as seeing it, or so Meg figured. She still hadn’t had a chance to eat, and suddenly the mention of food reminded her of that fact. Despite how tight her stomach still felt. She gave Derek one last pat on his knee before using it to stand back up, then pat her side to signal Sarge. She couldn’t muster anything to actually say yet, just gave a tight smile in their direction, and stood back with the big guide dog, waiting for them to lead the way.
Louisa May stood up as well, making her way to where Meg was standing with Sarge. “You wanna finish up our tour and get something to eat?” she asked Meg, wanting to give Derek a little time to collect himself, and give herself a chance to pull together before re-entering the group downstairs.
“Sounds like a plan.” Meg said a little breathlessly, thoughtless in the way her hand curled into Sarge’s ears.
The two women made their way out to the hallway, Louisa May turning to give a final smile to Derek. They walked in silence for a minute, and then Louisa May spoke up.
“I’d... I’d appreciate it if you kept what we were talking about to yourself, if you could,” she asked Meg quietly. “I’m pretty sure Derek’d appreciate it too.”
Meg just gave the same tight smile she had forced through the knots of emotion in the last five minutes, then nodded her head. “Y’got nothin’ to worry about on my end, trust me.”