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Megan & Devan || In Repair

Megan knew what was going on. This was Devan Channing - the same Devan Channing that Megan had spent so much time with just a year ago. She inhaled slightly, turning to close the door behind her, and turned back to Dev.

Devan doesn’t know about anything. She doesn’t know about Julian. She doesn’t know about Anna. She doesn’t know about Emma. Pangs started in her chest the moment she started thinking of it all, but she pushed it away in favour of focusing on this current whatever-it-is - conversation? Argument? An emotional beat-down? Megan didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted her best friend back. Needed her best friend back.

"You don’t -" you don’t understand, but Megan knew that that was the last thing that Devan wanted to hear. She regrouped.”There were circumstances that - I couldn’t face anyone - ” Megan was starting to stammer, still shaking slightly. She finally looked Devan in the eye, and that’s when the words started coming out. “I don’t know how to explain myself. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. You deserved better than that. It’s just that - ” she let out a shuddering breath. “I thought it would be better that way. I wasn’t planning on coming back, but I had to. Dev - an,” Megan hastily tacked on, not wanting to make Devan even more high-strung than she already is, “I’m just here to apologize for everything. I know that actions speak louder than words, or whatever that saying is, but I thought I’d start with the ‘words’ part.” Megan’s feeling a little proud of herself for not breaking down in front of Dev right now. “I needed you too. I made a mistake.”

devanchanning

Dev could've burned a few city streets with the amount of pure anger she believed she felt halfheartedly, knowing full well that her heart was just dripping with hurt more than anything else. The scowl she wore was harsh enough to curdle milk, and, as shitty as she knew it was, it made her feel slightly better knowing that it was enough to make Megan buckle.

"Yeah, no shit, I deserve better than that, but apparently no one other than me has figured that out yet. Go figure."

She felt a lump squeeze together in her chest, making her breath hitch from the tightness in her lungs. "Look, um--" Her voice softened noticeably, her eyes shifted from a pointed glare to a less-than-intimidating, sort of by the wayside glance, and there was a crack when she spoke. She shook her head, readjusting her weight to the other leg and sighed. "I just... missed you. Okay? You left and then everyone else left and... it was just me. And It sucked. So.. yeah." She eyed Meg momentarily, then shrugged a bit. "Just don't do it again or whatever. Or at least say good-fucking-bye next time."

#in repair #pmf #mf

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Megan & Devan || In Repair

meganfrasier-blog

Megan looked down at her hands, unsure of what to say; she’d known that Devan would be angry, and yet, she had no idea how to handle it. She suppressed the giddiness she felt at seeing her former best friend looking alive and, well, relatively well.

She then closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that her empath would be able to read something, anything, that could help her through this conversation - and all she could read was hurt. Not anger. Hurt. And she started to feel it, herself. Megan swallowed and looked up, unable to meet Dev - Devan's eyes.

"I, uhm - tried to write you," she managed to say timidly, "It’s just…I’m - "

Goddamnit, Frasier. Get it the fuck together.

"I’m sorry," Megan said, not allowing her voice to crack - not now. "I’m so sorry. But I needed this."

devanchanning

Something about the way Megan hesitated, the way she practically shrunk under Dev's words and uninterested glance made her smirk. "Ooh, pen pals," she scoffed, "So glad you wanted us to be pen pals." Her words were laced with poison, thorny and angry and hurt and deflective all at the same time.

She paused, though, when her old friend seemed to find her backbone.

I needed this.

"Yeah?" Dev stood and move towards Megan, her tone incredulous and unforgiving despite believing--somewhere, deep down in her heart--that her apology was genuine. "Know what? I needed you," she said, her unfaltering gaze locked on Megan's eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I needed my friend and you couldn't even tell me goodbye. So, what are you really here for, Megan? I mean, if you can't tell, I don't have much to offer you anyway."

#pmf #mf #in repair

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Megan & Devan || In Repair

Megan sits on the floor of her living room, looking around her apartment. She had leased it to a fellow student for the year that she was gone, and now, she was back - and she feels about as hollow as ever. She stands and walks over to the window, tucking a strand of her now-red hair behind one ear, and observes the campus that she once loved.

She could contact people and say she’s back, yes, but then what? Would she catch them up on how her trip was? How gorgeous Italy is this time of year? And ignore the catalyst of her leaving Hailgrove? Megan doesn’t know. She isn’t entirely sure if she even cares.

Devan. Her name had crossed Megan’s mind a few times while she was away, but Megan has no idea where Devan is - in fact, Megan doesn’t even know if she’s alive. But Devan is resilient. Devan is resourceful. She’s alive.

She’s also the only one I have left.

Megan goes and rummages through her bag, pulling out her phone - a new phone with a new number that she had bought right after leaving Hailgrove - and looks through her contacts to find Devan’s name.

She’s hesitant - if Devan’s alive (she’s alive), she won’t be happy with Megan, but Megan hasn’t had any connections with anyone for the past year. Loneliness is a numbed pain that she’s learned to ignore over the time she was gone, but being in such a familiar place, a place she used to be able to call “home” with people that she could call “home” - suddenly, the loneliness becomes unbearable.

Once she texts Devan, it’s clear that Devan isn’t happy, but she’s alive. Anna Novotny didn’t get to Devan. Relief and anxiety simultaneously fill her stomach, and she half considers running away again, but she swallows the slight lump in her throat and takes the walk to Devan’s apartment, looking straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge any familiar place - she refuses to acknowledge the cafe Megan and Julian would frequent, refuses to acknowledge the pub Megan and Devan would go to and get shitfaced and dance, refuses to acknowledge the bench her and Emma sat on at 3 in the morning where Emma first told her she loved Megan, and refuses the acknowledge the existence and memory of the one person who caused all of this. Now is not the time.

A boy with black hair happens to be leaving Devan’s building as Megan arrives, and he holds the door open for her. She smiles and says a polite “thank you” and walks in, looking back to make sure that he isn’t watching her, and that he’s walking in the other direction. (She’s safer at Hailgrove, but that doesn’t mean she’s safe.)

Megan gets to Devan’s floor and tentatively nudges her door open, gently knocking three times. “Devan?” she says quietly. “It’s Meg.”

devanchanning

Dev had been through... a lot. She never liked to admit how everything--the way Sienna dropping her, then Megan leaving, then Tay appearing and taking Sam from her--affected her, but it all had. It all still did. She suddenly found herself lonely. She'd always like to be alone, to take time to just be with herself and silently berate the people around her in an attempt to distract herself from any sort of feeling other than indifference.

She'd never felt lonely though. There had always always someone for her to text or call or drop in on, someone to pull her out of her thoughts when they got too harrowing or too invasive. All of a sudden, though, it seemed like there was no one. Sienna was out of the question, and Meg had disappeared without so much as a "k bye" text. Sam had Tay and, as annoying as it was, Dev didn't want to get in the way of her best friend's happiness, so she kept her distance. She liked being alone, but hated being lonely.

It wasn't rare for her phone to light up randomly, unsaved numbers asking what she was doing or where she was with some semblance of a flirty connotation behind the messages. When she glanced over at her phone from where she lay on her bed, the message caught her eye.

Hi, Dev. It's Megan.

Was she hallucinating? Was she so subconsciously desperate for a familiar face's company that she'd imagined her once-friend texting her? She answered back quickly--much faster than she usually answered any other unlisted number, and after what felt like mere seconds, she was staring up at the door to her room where Megan stood.

"Clearly," she almost hissed back at her. "And stop calling me that. No one calls me that." She couldn't keep herself from looking away, down at her hands where her phone turned over and over slowly. "Actually, keep calling me that," she mused after a silent moment, "Only friends get to call me Dev."

#pmf #mf #in repair #damn dev