They told me you were gone and I screamed. I wailed, I cried and I screamed. As loud as I could. I halfway hoped that if you could hear me screaming on your way to heaven, you would turn around and come back to me.
CHARACTER MENTIONS: Dexter Mitchell, Felicity Mitchell (NPC)
PROMPT: Laurel’s reaction to Dex’s death.
CAUTION: I’m fucking emotional right now, don’t touch me.
She should have been paying better attention. She should have been more intuitive to Dex’s behavior, especially lately. She should have made the get-togethers not as frequent, or at least have talked to Dex about it. For a moment there, things were looking up for them. They seemed to be getting back to a better place. It had looked as if their marriage was getting back on track, with talks of the future and them making promises to see a marriage therapist to work on them more. With talks of potentially having more children in the future.
Laurel was going to suggest a vow renewal. A small thing between them and Lissy and maybe asking Jonny to officiate. A symbol of a fresh start, of a third chance. Of their marriage going forward and putting past mistakes behind them. She was going to suggest a fresh start for them and for their family.
And then, Dex’s father passed away. She tried to give him space to grieve, to be there when he really and truly needed her and then to let him have his moments of clarity when he needed it. She put her focus on Lissy and on her friendships and work, keeping herself busy before giving Dex her undivided attention when he needed it. But fuck, was that a mistake? Should be have been more in his business? It was a mistake.
Laurel had been laughing at something Avery said when she heard a sound from outside. Everyone in the house quieted down and she looked at the younger girl. “Keep an eye on Lissy,” she commanded, getting up and heading to the front door. Dex had been working on the roof, something that has terrified her for years. Sure, she trusted him and was sure that he knew what he was doing. It was literally his fucking job. But god, it always scared the shit out of her. And as she opened the door, one of her her deepest fears has finally come true.
She gasped loudly as she saw him lying there before the front steps, standing in utter shock at first. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t fucking moving. “Dex?” she whimpered out, finally taking a few tentative steps forward. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t answering her. And he was bleeding. “DEXTER!” she finally screamed, running straight to him as tears streamed down her face. “SOMEBODY CALL THE FUCKING AMBULANCE!”
She fell to her knees, taking his lifeless face in her hands. His blood was seeping into her pants, begging to whatever god there was out there that he would start to breathe again. That life would return to his bright blue eyes she fell in love with seven years ago. “Dexter, baby, please... Fucking please... Please, baby, please don’t leave us...” It was moot at this point but god. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t handle it. She can’t fucking lose him. Lissy can’t grow up without him. She couldn’t see the group of people coming out of the house, minus Avery who was keeping Felicity and Mars inside. She couldn’t see her neighbors leaving their houses or looking out their windows to see what was going on. She couldn’t hear the siren of the ambulance heading their way the the Mitchell Farmhouse.
All she could see was her husband’s lifeless body before her. All she could hear was her cries and pleas, begging for him to come back to her. To come back to her and Lissy. To especially come back for their daughter. It wasn’t suppose to be like this. “Please come back,” she sobbed, laying her forehead against his. She thought back to the first time she met him: at the casino in Las Vegas, the place where a one night stand resulted in a drunken Vegas marriage, which resulted in the morning after of them realizing what they have done yet deciding to keep being husband and wife. To give this a shot for a year.
She thought of everything else that has gone down during the past seven years. The little moments in which they fell in love with each other; When they first said ‘I love you’; Their one year anniversary resulting in an ‘official’ wedding celebration with their friends and family; Moving from Laramie to Cheyenne after Laurel graduate college to work as a substitute teacher; All their little adventures and moments; When she told Dex that she was pregnant with Felicity and the look on his face; All of the ups and downs during their pregnancy; That moment when Felicity was finally born and in their arms; All of good and bad times afterwards; How that even after she suggested a separation and then a divorce as a way to protect him from her depression and anxiety and all of her other inner demons, he kept on fighting for her; How when she got the job offer he agreed to move out to Dayton and even bought the house and turned it into their dream home; All of their little moments afterwards before the masquerade ball in September, when she came clean about her abusive ex and that she was still in love with him and they got back together; their trip together with Lissy to Disneyland; their Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and all of the other holidays that they celebrated at the house; how she finally told him each and everything little thing that she had kept from him for so long, believing that he was finally going to leave her... only, he didn’t- he stayed; how they had finally got rid of those fucking divorce papers, burning them to ashes and now feeling that things were truly on the right path.
But they weren’t. He was dead. He was fucking dead. Laurel couldn’t let go of him as she cried, hating herself for spending those ten fucking stupid months separated from him and keeping her fucking secret from him instead of being honest from the very beginning. If she could change anything, she would have told him the truth from the very start. Not have kept it a secret from him. But she can’t. And now Dexter Theodore Mitchell is dead at thirty-one years old. And Felicity Lennon Mitchell is fatherless at three years old. And Laurel Alexandria Thatcher-Mitchell is now a widow at twenty-seven years old. It was all too fucking soon. And she let out another loud guttural scream, begging god to bring him back to them. Please, please, please, come back. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t leave. Please come back. Please stay alive. Please... Please... Please... It wasn’t suppose to be like this. This is too soon. This isn’t real. This couldn’t be real.
“Do I know you?” she asked after that little…outburst, wrinkling her nose. Mariposa generally wasn’t a nice person, she usually went out of her way to be a not-so-nice person, but she genuinely wasn’t trying to be mean- she had no clue who the woman was. But clearly the dark haired woman knew who she was- and she wasn’t very happy to see her. In fairness, not too many people were happy to see Mariposa, she was sort of used to that. “Either way, I’m having a fucking coffee, what does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped, lifting her drink to pointedly take a sip.
But then the woman gave her a look and there was a faint whisper of a memory that danced in the back of her mind. It’d been a long time ago, shit, she couldn’t even recall if she’d been legal at the time, but she’d definitely seen this woman somewhere before. Or, if her reaction was anything to go by, there was a good chance she was someone Mariposa had scorned in the past- she got a lot of that too. “Wait, I know you. I think,” she mused as she leaned back in her seat to study the woman, completely unapologetic with the fact that she’d clearly forgotten. In her defence, she went through partners like a person with a cold went through tissues, she didn’t remember most of them.
It truly did make sense why most people didn’t like her.
“It’s Laura or Lauren or something, right?” she asked after a moment, the memories still foggy but definitely there.
“I meant Dayton,” she snapped back. This was completely unlike herself. She was typically much more welcoming than this, especially with people who are new to town and with people from her past. Mariposa was both. And while Laurel had always assumed that the only person she would’ve reacted like this to was her ex Francisco, she honestly never thought that she’d act like this to the other girl. Well, to be fair, she tried to push Mariposa as far away from her mind and memories as much as possible after they parted. But god, seeing her again after so long brought back so many memories for her. The good times, the bad times; Especially their last couple of moments when she found out she was being played. And now, years later being a couple feet away from each other and Mariposa having forgotten her name, it just added more fuel to the fire. “I meant, what are you doing in Dayton?”
She gathered some napkins from a nearby table. She began to clean up her mess, unable to look at her. Just seeing her again brought everything back to her. At this point, the woman wasn’t sure what hurt more: the bad memories that led up to finding out the truth of Mariposa’s real intentions or the good memories that had caused her to start falling for the other girl. Before she met her, she had tried to develop feelings for a childhood best friend of hers while they were in college but it went nowhere. She’d mainly stuck with mindlessly sex and casual flirtations. Mariposa had been the first person since Francisco in which, she actually started to develop feelings for. And for a moment, she thought the other girl felt the same way. But god dammit, it wasn’t. It was nothing more than a game. Months later, she would end up studying abroad before coming back home, heading to Vegas, and then meeting Dex that very fateful night. Crazy how life works sometimes.
I know you. It irritated her how those three little words caused her to snap up to look at her again so quickly. A part of her had been hopeful after she left Toronto that maybe, Mariposa would realized that she did hold some feelings for her and try to contact her. She felt stupid the next couple of weeks afterwards when that never happened. “Laurel,” she corrected, sighing as she stood up to throw away the napkins and her now empty coffee cup. She leaned against a table to look at her, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes scanned her face. “Laurel Mitch- well, it had been Laurel Thatcher when we met. So yeah, close enough.” She shook her head. “God, for real though: what are you doing here in Dayton?” There was no malice this time in her tone; Just general curiosity.
“Ryleigh and King are the only two I really know, just so happens that they’re also hot. And what’s her face- she got really mad when I forgot her name, so I’m not going to bother. She knows I’m talking about her, I’m sure.”
“Growing up, my jida would tell me: لا يهم كم أنت بطيئ طالما أنك لن تتوقف. Which, in English means, ‘It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.’ I’ve loved that quote ever since. It really helps inspire me to keep pushing through any problems and troubles I may face.”
The opening of Tits, Clits, & Bong Hits had gone better than Dylan could have expected. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and she knew the money was pouring in. Now was for the hard part: the clean up. Man, she was not looking forward to seeing what mess was left over from the chaotic grand opening. Dylan was pretty far gone during the night as she kept a stead diet of coke and weed wild everyone ran around making a mess of her newest baby. She couldn’t care in the moment. But now that she was coming down from her binge, she was not ready to see the what it looked like behind those doors. Motorcycle parked by the curb, Dylan was standing out front with a cigarette between her lips. “Hey, I’ll give you a free round of hookah and a drink if you help me clean up this shit,” she said to the first person who walked by. Considering most of the town came to the opening, she figured it was a pretty safe thing to offer someone.
God, it had honestly been a fun night. Smoking some good hookah, having some drinks, interacting with people, and watching people running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to complete dares to get to go inside the VIP booths. Watching some of the dares had been pretty funny, some had been cringey. But overall, it had been a pretty good night. With Sol taking Avery and Ellie to a diner for food before going back to Sol’s penthouse for a sleepover, Laurel had been about to get a Lyft and head home. Sure, she didn’t drink that much but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Heading outside, she smiled at the blonde at first before getting on her phone. Yet when she started to talk to her, she realized who she was. “Oh my god- you’re Dylan! Hey! The grand opening was amazing; I’m most definitely going to come here more often.” Maybe she could even bring Dex with her sometime. She loves him but he certainly needs to chill a bit more. “Sure, I’d love to help. Where do you need me to start off at?” She was scared to clean the bathroom. And a certain weed booth.
“there is, it makes it easier to make friends… it’s not really my strong suit. though i suppose making friends by simply bonding over addiction isn’t the healthiest.” quinn said laughing awkwardly as she fiddled with her fingers. the blonde perked up a bit at her mention of a husband, she loved the idea of marriage and couldn’t wait for her turn to experience it all. “wow, he’s really talented. how long have you been married? i mean- obviously, you don’t have to answer that since it might be weird to tell a complete stranger. sorry. i just really admire people who get married, it all seems so magical.” the younger girl smiled softly.
“Really? You seem to be doing good so far,” she mused, hinting at the possibility of them potentially being friends. “I suppose it isn’t, yeah. But on the bright side, it could lead to getting to know people better and finding another connection that’s potentially more healthy!” Laurel beamed at the compliment. Ooo, she couldn’t wait to tell Dex later. She knows how important his work was to him; It was one of the reasons why she fell in love with him. “He really is. I’m so proud of him.” Laughing, she waved off her apology, not bothered by her question. “You’re all good, darling! We’ve been together for seven years now. It can be, but we do end up having problems every now and then. Fortunately, we work on them.” She was truly happy that they were now working and talking about their problems instead of just sweeping them under the rug. It made her hopeful, especially after everything.
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