Fibro Fuckery (a sickfic).
Also an angstfic lmao, I couldn’t decide which way to brand it. Our girl Helen isn’t as pure as she’ll have you believe, let’s see where finding that out takes us~
"Pearl?" Helen called out in a low voice as she closed the front door behind her, blowing a soft sigh past her lips, "you home yet?"
"Right through here, love!" Pearl responded brightly, her bubbly voice filtering through from the kitchen, where Helen could vaguely hear her cooking. A tired smile couldn't help but spread across her face at the sound of her wife, shouldering off her bag and moaning quietly. The flood of relief it sent showering through her was practically orgasmic, just lessening some of the pressure on her skin causing her to near pur. She stepped with an irregular gait into the kitchen, to find Pearl dancing around to music she hadn't previously been able to hear, swinging her body from task to task around the room. Helen guessed she was making lasagne, and a carrot cake, ever the chef was her girl after all. Almost always had a wonderful dinner waiting for her at the end of each day. She had joked previously that this was perfect practice for when she inevitably secured her position as sous chef within the cafe, but Pearl hadn't been joking when she excitedly agreed, insisting Helen would be doing her a grave disservice if she were to cook while she was still capable of doing it herself, chiding, "Let me practice, love, you'd be jeapordising my career if you did it yourself!" Helen certainly wasn't about to let go of a good thing, and agreed it was for the betterment of her career, how could be so selfish to cook for herself? Pearl grinned, "Exactly!"
Pearl shot her an addictive smile that showed her teeth as she entered, whipping her hair around in an attempt at a headbang that just worked to have her spitting strands of hair from her mouth instead of actually looking rad. Helen giggled and rolled her eyes at the total dork before her, leaning against the cluttered countertop with a concealed wince to for a moment do nothing but take her in, take in her beautiful wife and the pure joy that perpetually emanated from her like a radiant comet-tail. Helen rested her chin in her hand while she stood and stared, a contented smile sitting across her tired features as a slight flush simmered in her cheeks. She could truthfully make a day of watching her move, and never for a second become bored, rather just grow more flustered and enamoured by the moment. Pearl just had that effect on people, and it truly was no wonder why. Not even taking into account how utterly enchanting she was on a physical level, which Helen could swim through the ink of a millenia's worth of books, and she would not yet be able to draw together the words worthy enough to hold a fleeting flame to her practically indescribable beauty, but even aside from that, the absolutely gorgeous person she was despite of how her life thus far could have sculpted was truly commendable, and a damn near miracle Helen was privilged enough to bare witness to. How her years could have bent her, how trauma could tarnish her, she still somehow retained the sunshine soul-situated, and filtered it through into the world around her, and into the souls of others. How Helen had somehow ended up with such an amazing girl was nothing short of miraculous, but then, the real sentiment in that regard would be better suited to enquiring how Pearl had managed to overlook the many toxic grenades Helen had scattered around her in a 100 metre radius at their beginning of even knowing each other, leaving them there and asking why then was Pearl bleeding...
Pearl leaned forward while still shuffling her feet to the sound, plastering loving kisses against Helen's lips, somehow taking her by surprise as she hadn't put it together that when Pearl leaned over toward her that she was going to make contact. She pulled back slightly in a knee jerk reaction, but leaned back in when she took a few moments working out her intention. She certainly wasn't upset by this proposed action, and actively returned them. Pearl gave her a slight look of concern at her atypical reaction, but was likewise swept up in the kisses between them, and thus left them both to lose themselves in fervent clashing of teeth and thrusting tongues.
"How was your day, sweetheart?" Pearl breathed as she eventually pulled back, her concern still lightly visible as she picked up her knife and rhythmically pumped her arm, chopping up cucumber to the beat of the music. She loudly began singing along with it in a voice as smooth as butterfly milk. Helen sighed. She looked so genuinely happy, she didn't want to tell her that her singing, which she usually loved with every ounce of her being, was currently sending shockwaves of confused pain bouncing around in the mist of her head, and equally didn't want to be truthful about her day, to bring her down like that.
Truthfully, it had been unbearable, up at the crack of dawn with full awareness a fibro flare was beginning, barely able to pry her battered carcass of a body up off the mattress or bear the alarm that had roused her. The only reason she had eaten was Pearl following her up practically still asleep and asked her sweetly for McDonalds pancakes she wanted to share with her before she had to go in. She wasn't sure how much she liked the sound of that, but couldn't resist her girl's soft manipulation, and caved in, ordering them through drive-through along with two coffees and sat in the parking lot together eating their two pancakes each. Helen couldn't help but be acutely aware of how much syrup Pearl had doused her share in, and despite the thick haze of pain settling across her senses, she couldn't help but smile at her, reaching forward to clean a fleck of food from her lips. It wasn't too long before they finished and she drove them to her work, kissing Pearl bye and leaving Pearl to drive the car back home.
Things had only worked to worsen after this, she had been in a dazed fog all day, stumbling through it in a constant mind-melting state of agony that stretched out from every possible inch of her body, exacerbated even moreso by the pressure of just the scrubs on her back against her traumatised skin. Her head in particular was suffering, feeling as though it were cracking right down the middle, ripping her brain in ragged fragments in the process. She developed such an upset stomach that on more than one occasion she had had to rush away to the toilet to relieve herself, constant gurglings and cramps letting her know it was never really done. She couldn't make sense of practically anything put in front of her, becoming irritated at her infuriating confusion and thus worsening the situation by just adding to it a new layer. She felt as if she was physically carrying the weight of the world, arduously dragging it behind her while she waded through fast-setting guerilla glue. Tired couldn't begin to encapsulate it, unbearable, inconceivable exhaustion fit it better. And if none of that were enough, she clocked in with a fever for no apparent reason to her discovered by the routine temperature checks conducted during the flu season, which did absolute wonders to her already bastardised temperature regulation, causing her to keep her jumper on all day in the heated hospital, still somehow finding herself shivering, teeth chattering as she yearned and longed for her warm bed, and her soft girl. But she had somehow made it through the 12 hour shift, only stopping in the bathroom to cry once, with some help from her good friend Dr Reeves who took over all patients that he possibly could for her, and ensured she receive help in others. None of that was something Helen wanted to bring Pearl's blessedly good mood down with, so she lied,
"Oh fine, tis all a bit of a blur sometimes, you know?" Pearl gave her a sympathetic smile as she pushed the cucumber to the far side of the cutting board and started chopping capsicum.
"I can't even imagine cramming in all you do in a shift, my brain would just fucking self-destruct!" She sympathized jokingly, Helen chuckling numbly in response, thinking to herself how much Pearl had no idea, how much her brain had self-destructed. Searing, horrific flaming licks of pain rippled up and down her back, radiating down her legs, causing them to tremor beneath her. A tiny, anxious whimper left her mouth as she moved to sit down at the bar stool at the bench, moving articulately and with purpose. She held her breath as she did so, as if she breathed she would be gasping with every motion, and her cover would be blown. It's not as if Pearl wasn't already familiar with her illness, so logically she would find her out regardless, but she didn't want to be the one to break it to her if she could otherwise help it. She'd dealt with this for over four decades after all, she should be able to deal with it.
"And my day was great, babe, thanks for asking!" Pearl continued jovially, being a smart-arse over the fact Helen had forgotten to ask her. Helen came to that conclusion in slow motion, her brain ticking over gradually and through a thick maze of sewerage, apologising in a strained voice,
"Oh babe its fine!" Pearl talked over her, laughing at her wife's actual apology over her joking around, "Do I even sound serious?" But she did. Helen was so confused, her brain was at a complete standstill and refused to help her work out the things which she was usually competent at, reading vocal cues being one. She was too tired for this shit.
There rose a sudden urge to sniffle, and Helen did so, afterwards noticing her nose being rather stuffy. It surprised her honestly, and while she was analysing herself, she noticed that her throat felt sore. Her eyes were aching. Please don't tell her she was getting a cold alongside a flare! But of course that would be her luck! It would explain her fever from this morning at least that she wasn't sure if she had shaken. She feared with both of them working together that she was only going to feel worse and worse, probably to a point she would be almost totally incapacitated, as was the routine when both worked together, and that was never a position she wanted to find herself in. It was always a complete struggle getting back to form after something like this, but she feared she didn't have a choice anymore. Such was the way.
"Helen?" Pearl's voice fuzzily drifted into her ears as she was lost in her thoughts. "You're awful quiet. Are you feeling okay?" Helen dizzily brought herself back to reality, sniffling and clearing her throat as she looked up into Pearl's concerned eyes. She had stopped dancing and cooking, full attention on her, which may other times be validating, just worked the opposite gear currently. Helen felt anxious under her gaze, and as flames flickered behind her eyes she replied,
"Yeah, it's just...today was a bit rough, babe." Truly she wasn't lying.
"Awwww sweets, I'm sorry!" Pearl cooed, seeming to take that at face value, as she leaned forward to kiss Helen again, pulling back with an encouraging smile.
"Would dancing it out with me help?" Helen's stomach turned at the thought of dancing, gulping as a swell of pained nausea crashed over her, as she knew if she were to move like that she'd be all shades of fucked.
"Uh, no thank you, hun, work took it out of me too much for that," she apologised truthfully, eyelids drooping against her will as she fixed Pearl with an exhausted smile that flickered with the pain she was suppressing. The traumatised nerves in her neck viscerally crunched against each other as she held her head up, and she felt her eyes visibly straining to hold back tears. She was trembling slightly. Pearl gave her a look of pure concern as she evidently could see right through the facade, and Helen held her breath to stifle any noise from leaving her, just concerning her more. If she suspected her however, she said nothing about it, instead responding,
"How about you grab a shower then and get in your pyjamas? Dinner should be ready in a bit."
Helen loved the sound of that idea, hot showers almost always relieved at least some of her pain, especially during flares, but she admittedly was a little skeptical of whether she could stand up that long. Regardless she needed to shower, she could never skip one on work days, whatever illnesses that had crept their way into her office that shift would cling to her clothes and her skin. She had already made her wife ill that way enough times, the number of occasions she had woken in the night to the sound of Pearl vomiting in the bathroom after one of the bugs she had been exposed to that day infected her. Plus, if indeed she also had a cold, it wasn't something she wanted to share with her if possible. She mustered up the best smile a grimace could be disguised as.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
She had done everything to conceal her limp as she exited the kitchen, but as soon as she was out of sight she began stumbling over her own feet, gasping sharply under her breath with every movement as she lightly clutched herself and staggered straight for the bathroom. She could ask Pearl to bring her comfy clothes for her later, she just couldn't fathom taking detours right now getting them herself. Everything hurt, so indescribably agonised and intolerably exhausted that her first instinct for action was sliding down the wall to the floor and laying there in a puddle of inconsolable tears, letting the earth swallow her and melding her back into nature. And perhaps she would act on that, added theatrics and all eventually, but she had to shower first, that had to come first. She had to get the germs free of her.
While it was a sure blessing to strip from her clothes, releasing that pressure, Helen was too far in her fibro fog to be able to truly appreciate it. Shower and lay straight down, that's what she had to do, nothing else. Surely she could do that. She hated the shower chair but fucking hell she would use it today, she couldn't possibly stand up that whole time on her own. She had had enough falls in the shower from her stubborn perseverence already, she scarcely had to add another instance to that list. Swallowing her pride and the desire to kick it across the room, Helen dragged the chair over from the corner into the shower itself, before closing her eyes to block the pathetic view of it out and turned on the water. She called out in a wavering voice for Pearl to please bring her her pyjamas and perhaps a flannel to reflect the gathering autumn cold, and stepped wobbily into the shower.
Despite the chair's presence beside her, Helen still hated it for being there, wishing she had the energy to physically show it how much she loathed its existence, but instead could only show her personal rebellion by standing for as long as she possibly could to shower. The blessedly warm water was heaven against her, but most definitely did not fully take away her ills, and by the middle of the shower the room was beginning to spin from the thickening exhaustion, her vision going funny just as her strength broke for just long enough for her to tilt to the side and fell into the wall beside her, almost collapsing to the wet ground, but the chair stopped her descent, and now wasn't the time to be spiteful she decided; shakily, acquiescently, she pulled herself over to it and situated herself in the chair, a wave of relief that almost made her tear up instantly sweeping through her. But that couldn't last for long, as shortly after painful seizings rippled from her tailbone up the rest of her spine, causing her to visibly flinch and hiss through the cage of her teeth. From the breaking twigs bloomed further thorns, and near sciatic static gripped to the undersides of her thighs, dripping down to her toes than when they found no sun, reached back upwards to cast its toxic shade over her hunching torso. With the rising pain rose an uncomfortable heat, somewhat of a chill passing through her as Helen felt herself slipping into disassociation to escape the torture flaming through her every sinew, every nerve, every follicle. She tilted back in her chair as a result, numbly flinching when her violently contracting spine touched its back, just leading to an explosion of further amplified sensations. She became aware of herself trembling where she sat.
"Love, Helen, you doing okay in there? You've been in there a while," the sudden presence of Pearl's voice drowsily reached her ears in a delayed fashion, a sure disconnect between the sound and actual reality. She heard her then swear under her breath, "wait, I mean..." before flicking the light on and off twice, which is how she usually got her attention while she was in the shower.
"Fine, just tired," Helen heard herself respond as if on autopilot, unsure how she had managed it truthfully. As she came just a fraction more into focus the pain slammed down on her consciousness once again and Helen did her best to slip back into her unstirred state. Escape it, now.
"Oh. Well, alright, uh, I've got your clothes here, I'll put them on the sink for you, love. Try not to stay too long, you can have some dinner and lay down," Pearl encouraged her in a suddenly gentler voice, and Helen dimly came up with the conclusion that she realised what was really going on, no doubt seeing the startling use of the accursed chair. If Helen actually came to a tangible thought as a result of this, exhaustion tugged too heavily against her to properly bring it into focus. As a result she could do nothing more than muster a tiny grunt of acknowledgement as she listened to slight shuffling in the bathroom before the door being closed with equal gentleness to match that of her tone.
Despite it really being closer to at least ten minutes after this, it felt like a brief moment before Helen shifted heavily from her near-catatonic state, abruptly and fucking torturously being yanked from the warm confines of disassociative static. The loud, almost screaming moan that left her mouth could no longer be helped, as everything hit her in a single moment.
"Ohhh, fucking Jesus, fuck..." the statement wafted from her mouth in the form of an oxygenated refrain, as every nerve within her had been ripped free of her, still feeling, and then took the place of peppercorns in a salt grinder, set alight for good nature. They tied themselves back together in bunny-eared knots, bunching up around the bones which were encased beneath red-hot thorny chains. Her every joint had shed themselves of their cartilage seperations, leaving them to grind against the next one, surely fragmenting themselves in the process into jagged shards which acted like a splintering plectrum strumming against the fraying cords of her nerves. And the cramps that had beset her muscles, second to absolutely none. Her head spun as she clung a hand against the chair and the other across her eyes, which she could feel were warm and wet beneath her palm, panting whimperings filling the rocking space. She couldn't bear look at anything, she just knew her view was pulsing and she needn't be any more disoriented right now. The burning taste of metal awashed the back of her sore throat, chest pitching as she did everything she could to keep from screaming.
"Need out, now, out, oh fucking hell out..." she murmured to herself, voice jumping sporadically as Helen gripped to the railing she loathed they required but likewise grateful for it currently, and with agonised adrenaline her sole energy source, hoisted herself back on to her feet. Her legs shook weakly when she cut the water and staggered blind from the steamy shower, back into the cold of the bathroom. Everything kicked it up to one thousand at the temperature difference, and she gasped loudly and clutched at her chest and the sink, hunched forward over it panting wetly. Runny congestion ran from her nose and she reached her hand up robotically to wipe at it, feeling herself shivering down to her core. Panicked endorphins had already began their awful work, anxiety building up in her torso like a cloud of angry smoke. Please just let her get dry and dressed, she would stay in bed for a week if her body needed it, if it would just let her do those two things unaided. She was a fucking middle-aged adult, she totally resented the fact her body didn't let her act like it, and compelled her to require these stupid, degrading aids, like that rail, that chair, fuck, she had crutches and a goddamned wheelchair for when her body decided lol fuck it we're not fucking working today, get over it bitch! She was supposed to be in her prime, what the fuck did she do to deserve this daily torture? But then, it was that mentality that made her such a cruel person. Before. Made most people's life hell to be even close to her. Fuck, how in the world had Pearl put up with her for so long? Being reversed Helen wouldn't have put up with the toxicity, and yet Pearl had. Why had such a truly awful person managed to actually maintain any fucked out relationship, much less this one?
It was through the mist of these negative, toxic clouds that Helen felt a sudden rushing of burning liquid from up her already sore throat, crying eyes widening in genuine shock. Her mouth was already hanging open, and thus the surprise sick had nothing inhibiting it, running from it in a thin stream that tasted vaguely of maple mucous. It splattered almost silently into the awaiting sink before her, and before she could recover her breath her torso was hitching tight, causing another small wave of vomit to join the already existing mess. Through the fog of tears and complete exhausted disorientation, Helen could make out small bits of their pancakes from that morning colouring the white porcelain an offputting brownish-pink, and couldn't help the disgusted retch this broke from her as a result. She knew the signs by now to know this sudden bone-nausea was a result of her body unable to process the multitude of her pain, and not a condition all in its own, and regardless of the fact this thankfully didn't happen unless during a flare, if the pain didn't lessen, neither was it going to. This thought just worked to worsen the nauseated clenchings of her abdomen, and her gathering anxiety.
"Shit, come on, dressed..." she reminded herself under her shaky breath, moving to turn on the tap to flush away the remnants of her sickly mess, letting it run as she slowly unfolded her towel, brushing it as softly as she could against her skin, just enough to dry it. Even that miniscule touch was torture, and she conceded she would be in pain regardless, she may as well clean herself properly. She wrapped the towel around her entire body and dried vigorously, gasping whimpers leaving her open mouth as she shook with furthered intensity. Her vision was buffering and light-headedness soon took hold.
"Oh God, fuck, please stop..." she whimpered in a tiny, tight voice, tears burning her eyes as she flung the towel away onto the floor and reached for her pyjamas. Please, just get them on, please, just do that. She was going to pass out, just hold out a little more, please.
Swaying and moving as if she was under the influence of anaesthetic that kept you just before you lost consciousness, Helen pulled the thankfully loose night-shirt over her head and boxers (she didn't remember the last time she had worn them, nice catch, Pearl) up her legs, yet found the flannel was just a tad too constricting for her right then, and neglected putting it on. Her heated blanket would be far better suited right then anyway. Then the last step, her hearing aids. But wait. They weren't there? But she was always set them on the countertop. Then she felt them. She had never taken them off. Fuck, these weren't waterproof! She hurriedly removed them and dried them as best she could, humiliated flush stretching across her face. She felt like such an idiot, she was such a fucking child. She rummaged through the drawers in search of her old pair, sure they would work until she was sure her main was safe from not shorting out. Completely incapable bitch.
Upon discovering them she applied them, the noise quality noticably worse than her main pair was capable of, but still a sure improvement on the near total silence she would have without.
She was done now. She could lay down. Helen staggered the few steps to the door, finally leaving the bathroom.
As soon as the door opened, Pearl was coming over to her, concern clearly tangible in her face. Taking in the sight of her wife, she looked horrified, taking her hand as she was unsure whether touch right then would do more bad than good.
"Oh, sweetheart!" was all she said, and that's all it took for Helen to break down, instant tears spilling over from her barely-open eyes, quickly dissolving into near-hysterical sobs. Pearl rushed to steady her as she swayed forward,
"No..." Helen moaned in response, as Pearl pressed immediate kisses against her forehead, far too hot beneath her lips.
"Oh, Helen, you're burning up!" she exclaimed, worried beyond words, "and, oh love, did you throw up? I can smell vomit," she smoothed her still damp hair down sympathetically, "come sit down, tell me what's going on."
"Can I please lie down, Pearl?" Helen was asking before she could stop herself, issuing toward the couch as that was closer than their bed.
"Oh, of course, hun, absolutely, yeah, do you need anything before we can talk, are you hurting?" Pearl jumped to respond all too eagerly, gently urging them both forward through the kitchen. The smell of her wife's cooking would normally be heavenly, as it had been less than an hour before, but now it purely worked to re-turn her stomach, gripping her freer hand to it as she nodded in slow-motion,
"Heated blanket, please, and my strong stuff, strongest I have, and an antiemetic. Should do."
"Of course, love, that can be easily arranged," responded Pearl just as they made it to the couch. Helen practically collapsed onto it sidways, before a harsh cry of pain escaped her, making Pearl jump and set to retrieving their supplies to hopefully bring her girl relief as soon as possible.
It was perhaps only a minute before Pearl returned, yet it felt like eternity that Helen laid there, flat on her back with her knees tensed upwards, unable to lower them down from how tight she couldn't help but hold herself currently. She felt fucking wretched, and she truly couldn't help the negative spaces her mind found itself wandering into over and over, wondering what she had done to deserve this. And again, the immediate response perpetually decided upon was this was her penance for what a shitty person she was. But then, she didn't start out that way. And she did start out life with fibromyaglia pretty much from the get-go. It had to be a learned behaviour, perhaps rather than punishment it was corruption. That and everything else in life, how despite all that and what it all brought to the table did she have someone so eager to get her painkillers of all things for fuck sake? She had a wife, and she was treating her like a caretaker. But she could do no physical thing to remedy that situation right now, and so stewed on it, over and over, fever and fibrotic fog working together to meld her mind. She was a selfish bitch, toxic, negative, neglectful, and downright abusive, and like the selfish, toxic, negative, neglectful, and downright abusive bitch she was, she was too weak to hold that knowledge, sobbing with renewed vigor at the thorough shame of being nothing but her.
"Hold on, sweetie, I'm just grabbing everything now!" Pearl called from their bedroom in response to what she thought was a reaction to purely physical pain, which she could be no further from the truth. Helen's brain was tearing itself apart and reforming itself, into a narrow husk of sparking endings. She wanted to rip off her skin. How terribly she had treated that woman in the next room, how in the fucking world did Pearl not just leave? Helen gave her no possible reason to stay, and every reason to leave her. Oh God, how much she loved her was making her wish she had left, she deserved better than the broken, traumatised, pathetic little shell of a person she ended up with.
"Oh, hun, I've got everything for you," Pearl's voice suddenly sounded beside her, "sweetie, don't cry, try and sit up for me and take these, they'll make you feel so much better, I promise."
Helen felt her toned hands easing her upwards, and for a moment she followed the motion in total numbness, before everthing chugged back into action, and bright pinpricks of light broke out in the corners of her vision as she suddenly exclaimed,
"Pearl, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry!"
Pearl paused, confused as she eased her up the rest of the way and pushed the strong painkiller, muscle relaxant, antiemetic, and fever-reducer cocktail of pills into her hand, holding the water glass herself so she wouldn't spill it.
"Uh, what? Babe, what are you apologising for, you can't help being sick, and having a flare. It's not a pr-”
"No, for everything," Helen interrupted in violent distress, practically hyperventilating as tears masked her vision and long-standing angush trailed from her mouth,
"I was such a fucking bitch to you, for so long and, and I, fuck, I don't, even, understand, why you stayed!"
Pearl was silent as she continued on in an endless stream of angst, "I was so fucking hurt by life and everyone left me for it, I, I don't even think my own brother wanted to be around me. I drove everyone away, and my two reasons for living were taken, and I just, I guess, I, I had to take i-take it out on someone, you know? I've said and, done so many awful things to you, to our friends, but so many to you, and I feel such fucking shame every day, it follows, me, it follows and, and, and lurks, I couldn't even say my vows without thinking, wow, this fucking bitch just wants to possess this beautiful woman and just shoot her, her fucking, her venom into her forever, she just needs someone to take shit out on, cuz she's that much of a fucking spoiled idiot child that the moment she's upset she has to make the world pay, I don't, I don't deserve your help, Pearl, I'm, I'm so fucking, I'm sorry I'm, oh God fuck, Pearl I'm sorry, please, please forgive me I'm fucking sorry, I'm poison, I can't have you, I-"
Her name was yelled out in one single word which reflected how terribly she had made her feel, how deeply her wounds had been re-opened with one swift yank of her stitches. Helen came to a sobbing, screaming stop, the kind which leaves physical evidence of it's stay trailing down your face, caking itself and moistening over with every moment. A scream of agony screeched from her as she suddenly felt the firm arms of Pearl around her shoulders, struggling away as she moaned out,
"No! No! Baby, I'm sorry, you can't, I'm not meant for-"
"Helen, you stop and you listen to me right now!" Pearl interrupted again, her grip instinctively tightening as she fought back her own tears.
"Please, not so tight..." Helen barely whimpered, sighing as the pressure loosened and set things back into her normal flavour of abomination. Pearl pressed shaky, teary kisses against her wife's flaming forehead, taking a moment before she did her best to speak firmly,
"Helen, that shit's in the past, we've moved on, or at least I have. You're not the same person, we've both changed a lot since we met, and we're on this side of it now. I don't blame you for that stuff, I can't imagine carrying what you do-"
"But, Pearl," Helen interjected in a tight, whimpery voice, "you can't say that. Sure, maybe you don't have a chronic illness, but all that other shit, babe, I could never deal with what you have, can't even fathom it really. I got so little compared to you-”
"See, that's where we stop talking," Pearl cut in, "because we do not compare, you know this. And fuck babe, think of the similarities if we want to go there, cuz I will." She lifted her hand up and dropped a finger for every item on her list, "Dead parents, dead siblings, just dead family in general haha, chronic pain to some extent with my migraines and your fibro, you can't hear I can't see, unhealthy coping shit, and abuse of some kind. Babe, I know you think that because I had all my abuse in my formative years that it means more or something, but you were hurt as well, by someone close. And that job of yours, forget about it, Helen, you're constantly exposed to the world's ills and still somehow don't blow your brains out like I know someone who would. I know, we don't talk about all that, but we were both hurt, and I am trying to get across to you that it's not a competition. We were both hurt and are still hurt and show it in different ways-"
"But it's not the same though," Helen interrupted in a growing intensity of emotions, her voice pitching up and out through the cobwebs in her chest, "you didn't become a cold fucking bitch who took everything out on everyone just to get out of yourself, you never once made me pay for anything when that's all I did, I just reflected it back on you and it's so not okay."
"You're right, it's not," Pearl's voice strained and wobbled, "but you cleaned it all up, babe, you did it better. You recognised your, yes, it was terrible behaviour and I will be the first to admit it, I'm not blind to it and never was, but you recognised it and you know what? You flipped it, just completely changed it. I can't imagine my life without you in it, Mrs Steele, and you know what? I won't, because it's not going to open. It's you babe, it's me, and," she gave a watery chuckle at her unintentional reference,
A sudden silence rained between them, save for sniffling and continuous pained exclamations from Helen, before she let out the first laugh she had been able to muster that day, attempting to kiss her wife but missing her aim.
"Really, babe, Bly Manor? Right now?" she laughed with undeniable exhaustion still evident, but the sound itself was such an improvement right now, Pearl would take that. While she still felt herself trembling with panicked adrenaline at being reminded of such an admittedly terrible time, she did everything she could to squash it for now; it didn't make her mad perse, but it did make her violently distressed, and that wasn't something they needed more of right now. She wouldn't leave it fully, however, that would be unhealthy.
"Really," she began in a voice still wobbily, "and so, you understand, babe? That's not you now, you're a beautiful human being who made lots of mistakes that she put to rest. And they are at rest now, Helen, done. You're fully forgiven, I didn't just vow to you my entire life for a nice instagram shot, I meant it, and where would I be to leave you for something you did in the past that has been fully done with? It wouldn't make me a Steele, it would make me a Lohan, and you know what they say about them."
Helen giggled quietly, "they pigs."
"And that is a promise," Pearl laughed, getting quite tired herself if she were being honest. Emotions really took it out of you, she supposed, "now, is my beautiful wife going to take her meds and let me take care of her now?"
Helen nodded, humming in silent agreement as she pressed her palm to her mouth to deposit the meds inside and reached for the water glass being picked up Pearl, swallowing them all down and allowing her heated blanket to be wrapped around her, eyelids drooping and head lightly tilting to the side upon the arm of the couch. Pearl removed her glasses to wipe her wet eyes, putting them back on and inhaling deep, blowing it out and giving Helen an encouraging smile, which she did her best to return despite being only a quarterway conscious. She had been exhausted already, the emotions and the meds dragging her down the very last amount as she felt consciousness creeping away from her. She was dipping in and out as Pearl then asked,
"Probably not, but did you want to try anything to eat before you get your sleep? It doesn't have to be lasanga if your tummy is upset, I can make something else, but do you think you can manage something?"
Helen truly was starving, throwing up had just made her hungrier from being so empty, but she scarcely believed she had the energy necessary to digest, let alone actually do the action of eating. No matter how much she wanted to, she knew it was no use in the long run. She shook her head, moaning under her breath in response.
"Alright, that's fine, love, well, how about you rest here for a bit, let those meds work-"
"okay, cutie, and I'll clear up and get us both to bed in a bit. Does that sound alright?"
Helen could only nod, slipping from wakefulness within the next moment, finally blessedly unaware of how her body was destroying itself, finally at peace for a while. Pearl let a sad smile fall into place, watching her for a moment while some renewed tears formed in her eyes, her chin crumpling. For that kind of outburst, this truly had to constantly be on her mind. She was always struggling with this, and Pearl was blissfully unaware of how her past actions destroyed her, and while she wished Helen would have been more open with her about this, she was at the very least happy that it had come out at all, even if it had to have been in this terrible way. She sighed shakily through her nose, closing her eyes.
"Cast this from your mind, please Helen. It'll destroy you otherwise."
