#fitzgeraldisms

[siirenae]

( *&. @fitzgeraldisms. ) 

         "i don't know which part of that sentence i'm going to cringe at, the fact that you just said BOOZE CLUES or the fact that you actually go to a liquor store named that."

[sunbeamsmilcsarchive]

@fitzgeraldisms

"I have something ridiculously stupid to ask you, but I know you'll have an opinion, so."

[hatethisfreezer-blog]

Don’t go where I can’t follow

She couldn’t get the image out of her head; Jake slumped over, his warm blood running out of the wound in his chest, leaving his body a cold she wasn’t used to. Jake was dying and there wasn’t a thing she could do.

          Brook had road in the ambulance with him, her fingers clenched           tightly around him, only separating when they got to the hospital           and the doctors wouldn’t let her into the operating room. It was           only then when she’d realized how much of his blood was on her           hands – She’d scrubbed over and over again, raising her hands           from the warm water and being so sure she could still see red           jammed into her cuticles – there was a fear she’d never get it all           off.

It took too long for the doctors to come out and talk to her; her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she feared the worst, but they told her he’d be okay. In some sort of miracle, the blade had missed all major organs and arteries, leaving nothing but a hole in his chest. Still, Brooke had watched enough Grey’s Anatomy to know that people were told they were going to be fine all the time, only to flat line five minutes before the end while be overtured by some sad song. 

          She’d practically grilled the doctors, covering all the grounds to ensure           his wellbeing,                     “You double checked for internal bleeding, right?”                          “What about the thing lodged in his chest? There’s no way                          it was clean. What are his chances of contracting tetanus?”                               “I’m sure you’ve already contacted the police to have his room guarded.”           Every question had warranted a scoff or eye roll from a nearby nurse; they           knew how to do their job, but this was Jake, and Brooke wasn’t about to           take any chances.

She’d sat next to his bedside, fighting the staff when they’d notified her visiting hours were over and assured her she could check in first thing in the morning. Brooke Maddox did not go down without a fight, and they let her stay on account of the fact that she’d stay quite as long as she got what she wanted. Eye’s locked on his chest, counting the seconds between his inhale and exhale to monitor his heart rate. She observed the movement of his eyes; watched them shift under closed eyelids and wondered if he was having nightmares about his attack – a thought she had to fight to shake him awake so he didn’t need to relive it all over again.

          It’d been hours since he’d stirred, and while Brooke had grown exhausted, sleep           had escaped her. She watched the crappy cable tv show the hospital provided           without paying much attention to it; her mind a million other places than the forced           love triangle the actors poorly portrayed – hand still dutifully wrapped around Jake’s.

It wasn’t until he shifted that her mind came back, fully focused on the boy in front of her. Fingers tightened – hopeful that he’d come to and she’d really be able to see him. A smile curved onto her features as his eyes fluttered open, a soft groan rising from his chest. “Hey.” It was weak – forced through a body who’d spent most of the day in an emotional crying state. She moved herself closer to his side, both hands encircling his, “You had me worried there for a second.”

                                                      fitzgeraldisms