John James Searle (inneedofrepair) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-12-09 21:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 23, andrew kirke, john james searle, | drew and searle |
Week 23 - Saturday
Characters: Drew and Searle.
Location: The bathroom
Summary: It’s the big day for Ana and Drew, so Searle goes to check up on the groom.
Rating: PG
This was it. It was finally happening.
Three doors down, Ana was getting dressed for their ceremony. He’d opted to take the bathroom since he needed a lot less space to get ready than she did.
And he was going to throw up.
Drew had never been the type to get stage fright. Years of performances in school and open mics had taught him to enjoy the rush that came right before he got up and potentially made a fool of himself. This, however, was not a gig; this was real, and so much more important than anything else he’d ever done in his life. Even the proposal hadn’t been this terrifying. What if he blanked? What if the vows he’d written and rewritten a hundred times didn’t sound genuine enough? What if she changed her mind at the last moment, ran out of the house, got into a car, and left? Drew put his head between his knees where he sat on the lid of the closed toilet, forcing himself to breathe.
“I’m gonna throw up.”
At the suggestion that someone check up on Drew, Searle found himself at the bathroom door just in time to hear muffled words that he couldn’t quite make out. He knocked gently so he didn’t startle the man inside. “Drew? It’s Searle, how are you holding up?”
“C’min,” came Drew’s reply. He laced his fingers behind his neck to keep from pulling out his hair, forcing himself to breathe more slowly.
Drew didn’t need to answer Searle’s question with words, because when Searle did step inside and close the door behind him, Drew’s nerves were palpable. “I’ve never been to a wedding before.”
“Been to four,” Drew said, the words pointed at the floor. “Always the bridesmaid, though. Never the bride. If I pass out, can you make sure I don’t crack my head open?”
Searle laughed. “I’ll stand close enough to catch you,” he promised. “I wonder what it means if you catch the bride at a wedding and not the bouquet.”
“That you’ll live twice as long as they do, or longer. Or that you’ll absorb their spirit energy.” A pause. “No, that’s Highlander. I’m rambling. Oh god. Why am I rambling? This isn’t even a big deal; we’re just getting married. And it isn’t even the kind of married where we’re getting joint bank accounts and she has to legally change her name to match mine.” He gave a manic sort of laugh. “Like she even would. I’d change mine to hers, though, if she didn’t. I’d wear it like a sandwich sign. Andrew Gordan. So I’d change from Captain Kirke to Commissioner Gordan. I’m going up in the world. Oh god, I’m gonna throw up.”
“Why don’t you change your name to hers?” Searle had been silent when Drew rambled on, not so much because he was patient, but because he didn’t have much clue of how to calm Drew down, or if that were even possible. Getting married was huge, even if this wedding would be sort of informal. “Your marriage is going to be as real as any other marriage, so you should.”
“I’ll have to see how Ana feels about it. After we’re done doing the thing. I mean again, it doesn’t really matter, y’know? Nobody calls me by my full name. I just go by Drew. Short, sweet, to the point, gets the job done.”
He finally pulled his head up from his knees, looking at the boy standing a few inches away, the coloring in his face a bit wrong from the way he’d had it. There was still a bit of panic in his eyes. “Do I look all right? I didn’t even know what to wear to this thing, a tux seemed kinda stupid.”
“You look great,” Searle said, not considering any different answer. “Do you have a tux? A t-shirt seem too dressed down, but I don’t think anyone here would care....” He scratched the back of his head. Searle would always rely on his mom to tell him what to wear and she’d never given advice for weddings after the end of life as they knew it.
“I think … it doesn’t matter,” Searle decided. “What matters is you guys love each other, so you should dress how you feel. Maybe a tux is a good idea; it’s special.”
That only seemed to make the panic bloom into full-on terror. “There wasn’t one in the attic. I don’t have anything real nice. Oh god, she’s gonna thing I didn’t make an effort. She didn’t let me know what she was planning to wear.”
“Hey, wait!” Now Searle was beginning to panic. “If you don’t have one that’s a different story! We have to work with what we have and - and it doesn’t have to be a tux to be special. Uhm, what about … doing your hair nice, and uh … I don’t know,” he finished lamely.
“She won’t let me in the room,” Drew said, his hands white-knuckling his knees. “Can you maybe go get me another shirt? She’ll tell you which drawer is mine. Or have whoever’s in there grab one for me if she isn’t ready yet and won’t let you in. God, I should’ve just let her pick for me. I’m so useless about this stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ll get you something,” Searle said eagerly, pushing himself away from the sink where he’d been leaning. “Trust me, Drew, everything will be perfect once it comes together.”
“I hope so,” Drew replied, sticking his head back between his knees again. God, I hope so. Just breathe, man. Deep breaths, in and out.