|Analise Gordan (crazyonyou) wrote in the_colony,|
@ 2010-11-15 12:49:00
|Entry tags:||^ week 22, analise gordan, andrew kirke, | ana and drew|
Week 22 - Tuesday
Characters: Ana Gordan and Drew Kirke
Location: Their room, the Farmhouse
Summary: Ana comforts Drew when he returns from watching over Molly
Rating: Maybe PG for language but it's pretty clean
Drew had been with Molly all of the afternoon and well past the time night had fallen. Once the girl’s body temperature stabilized, Drew and the doctor moved her from his and Ana’s room back upstairs to her own. Ana had helped as much she could: she radioed for the doctor and rushed to collect blankets once they had instructions. After that, there was very little she could do. The doctor was hard at work on Molly and Drew refused to leave her so soon. Any other company in the room was too crowded, impeding the doctor from her work.
Ana had left them to it, waiting as evening stretched into night. Drew hadn’t had dinner or even come downstairs at all. Molly was a sweet girl and Ana was worried for her but she was worried for him, too. He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day. Drew was no good to Molly if he was sick, too, and Ana knew he’d be taking what was happening to Molly hard. If it was Drew’s responsibility to take care of Molly and if there was nothing Ana could do to help the girl, then it would Ana’s responsibility to take care of Drew.
To that end, she waited downstairs and when he finally came down, she didn’t drag him immediately into their room. Instead, she went into the kitchen. When Ana did come into the room she’d tried to put right after Molly’s brief stay in it, she was carrying a sandwich and a glass of water. “Hi, baby,” she said gently.
Drew was sitting on their bed, his head bowed low over his knees and his hands in his hair. He felt like the whole world had tilted on its axis and was spinning twice as fast. Everything was wrong. He hadn’t even wanted to leave her room to sleep, but the doctor had all but ordered him out. He wanted to be there when she woke up; didn’t the doctor understand how important it was? He’d hardly even heard Ana address him, he was so distraught. Knowing she’d worry if he didn’t say anything, he simply croaked out a monosyllabic answer:
Ana only just managed to keep her face from going to pieces at the sound of his voice. She found space on an end table for the plate and glass and sat next to him. “Oh, baby,” she sighed. “I’m so sorry.” Once again she was at a loss for the right thing to do to help, so she simply wrapped her arms around him.
Drew shuddered against her, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he needed the physical contact right then, the reassurance that he wasn’t alone. He turned into her embrace and slid his arms around her as well, hugging her with an almost crushing force and pressing his face into her neck. He didn’t dare speak, too afraid that his voice would break and he would come crashing down with it. Ana stroked his hair, occasionally making comforting noises.
“She’s goin’ to be all right,” she soothed. “The doctor will take care of her and she’ll be fine.”
“She still hasn’t woken up,” Drew rasped, his voice so dry and painful that he almost didn’t recognize it. “What if she never wakes up? What if she dies?”
“She ain’t goin’ to die,” Ana said firmly, injecting her voice with more confidence than she felt. “She’s had a bad scare but her body’s goin’ to reset itself now she’s warm and she’s goin’ to wake up just the same as she was. The doc will take care of her.”
“You don’t know that,” he argued pathetically, his hands twisting up in the fabric of her sweatshirt.
Ana could feel her heart breaking into pieces for him. “I can’t promise but I believe it. I believe in my heart she’s goin’ to come through just fine.”
Drew screwed his eyes even tighter shut, forcing himself to breathe instead of break down. Crying wouldn’t fix this. He needed to have faith, like Ana did. Things would get better. They had to get better. Molly had been one of the only bright spots in his life back in Vegas; she was too young to die just because she got a little cold.
But thinking about finding her flashed through his mind all at once: the inch of snow that had made her almost discernible from the rocks nearby, the way she had been barely breathing, how pale and lifeless she’d looked. Drew gave a choked-off sob before he was able to stifle himself. No, he told himself. No no no. She’ll live. She’s gaining back her temperature; she wouldn’t if she was gonna die. She’ll live dammit!
Ana held him tighter at the sob and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself together. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
It took a long time before he finally calmed down enough to loosen his hold on her and even then, he didn’t pull away. In fact, Drew shifted to pull her into his lap and resettled, grateful for the weight.
“Thank you. For calling the doctor. Hell, for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” It was the least Ana could do and it hadn’t been much. The worst thing was that some part of Ana selfishly hoped Molly would make a full recovery for Drew’s sake alone.
Drew closed his eyes again and just concentrated on breathing until he was fully calm. It was only then that he realized that she’d brought in food. He craned his neck to look without dislodging her.
“Just a sandwich and a glass of water. You need to eat somethin’.” Ana would make him if she had to.
His stomach twisted at the very idea of food, partly out of hunger and partly out of disgust. He would have to eat slowly if he didn’t want to throw up.
“Chicken.” Ana wanted to be sure he got some protein, even if it was from the chunk canned stuff. Drew leaned to the side, reaching for the plate where she’d put it and straining in the process. He only managed to eat about half of it before he couldn’t force another bite down, and Ana tried not to frown.
“Don’t get dessert if you don’t eat your dinner,” she told him, trying to joke. Drew smiled weakly in response, putting the plate on the bed a few inches away.
“Just not that hungry,” he admitted.
“You should eat,” she prodded. “You’ve barely had anythin’ all day.”
“I’ll live,” Drew insisted, reaching for the water glass in a similar fashion and draining at least half the glass.
“Okay.” Ana let it go. “You goin’ to be all right?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly once he finished the glass, setting it on its side next to the half-eaten sandwich. He looked up at her, suddenly concerned. “You ate though, right?”
Ana pushed her fingers through his hair and the corners of her mouth turned up. “Yeah, baby, I ate. Don’t worry about me.”
“God, that feels good,” he blurted, leaning into her hand and closing his eyes as she got to the ends and repeated the motion. For a few moments the world dissolved away, and all that remained was her hand in his hair and the muted pleasure slowly traveling downward from his scalp. Then he turned his head into her shoulder and yawned long and tall, the exhaustion seemingly coming from nowhere. “What time s’it?”
“Ten somethin’, I think,” Ana answered, drawing her fingers through his hair one last time. “If you’re not goin’ to eat, you should sleep. Want me to get you up when I do in the mornin’?”
Drew nodded tiredly, nuzzling into her neck before he leaned back, taking her with him. His feet dangled off the bed, but he seemed far from caring.
“Okay.” Ana was exhausted too, weighed down from a day spent worrying. She kissed his jaw gently. “Sleep. Don’t keep yourself awake. You’ll take care of her in the mornin’.”
“Love you,” he murmured, already starting to feel himself drop off. His arms tightened around her briefly before sleep claimed his motor functions like the rest of him.