CampNaNo Prompt Style-Week 1
Trying to get out of writer's block by trying out daily prompts with a low bar of 20k words for the month. Just to get the words moving. I'm using THIS PROMPT LIST for inspiration.
This week I got hung up on one idea & decided to take the whole week of prompts & put it into one excerpt. I'm going to try to do shorter, daily bits for each prompt unless this way works better. (It's all about making the brain happy so she'll move)
Week 1 Prompts 1. Definition 2. Fix 3. Punch 4. Elaborate 5. Neighbor 6. Scene 7. Productive Words: 4,133 cw: medical mention, violence mention, abuse mention language Summary: Garnet is out on medical leave, but he doesn't need help. Beau is still trying to get the hang of making friends –but Garnet doesn't need help! He's fine!
Taglist: @everlastinq, @waysofink, @ashen-crest, @spacetimewraithwrites, @dustylovelyrun, @idreamonpaper, @abalonetea, @jaimistoryteller, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @reininginthefirewriting, @concealeddarkness13, @athenixrose (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)
There was banging at the door, but Garnet didn’t bother getting up. It was probably one of his neighbors coming to bitch about the smell of to-go containers stacked in his kitchen. Someone shouted something he couldn’t hear from down the hall.
Mind your business and keep moving.
Another round of knocking lasted a while until, finally, they gave up.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
He released a deep breath, slouching back in his seat and letting his eyes fall closed. He’d been on medical leave for a little over a week. It’d been a domestic abuse situation during a neighborhood card game, and Garnet had gotten outnumbered trying to get the kids out of the house. He’d needed some stitches, a sling for a dislocated shoulder and broken collar bone, fractured ribs, and a few broken fingers, but he’d managed to get out of the hospital before they decided to keep him overnight.
But in his rush, he’d forgotten to pick up his prescribed painkillers.
He was definitely hurting, had been for days, but wasn’t going to bother anyone when he knew, eventually, it’d go away. It’d stop. He’d heal up on his own. If he could get still enough, quiet enough, he could get some sleep.
“Garnet?” Someone called from inside his apartment.
“What?” he grated without opening his eyes. There was still blood dried in one ear, making it difficult to tell who exactly it was, but if he had to guess maybe Ryker. He’d given him a spare key for emergencies. Footsteps came down the hall, past the door, and then backing up.
“Why are you in the bathtub?”
Not Ryker.
Garnet turned his head, wincing at the speed, and peered through dark spots at the person in the doorway. It was the annoying robocop from work, the small one, looking half-swallowed in the Mediator jacket. “The hell are you doing here?” Garnet snapped. “Am I gonna have to file a restraining order against you or what? Like you can’t leave me alone.”
“I was asked by Chief Thatcher to come down and perform a wellness check since no one had heard from you in days.”
“Check,” Garnet attempted to mimic drawing a check mark only to be hindered by the sling. “You can head on back, boy scout.” But Beau didn’t seem to hear. He stepped into the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the lights.
“You’re growing hair on your face like Ryker.”
“Yeah, thanks. I hate it.” Garnet sighed, slouching back into the pillows and blanket he’d piled in the tub. It wasn’t all that difficult to get out of, allowing him to sleep somewhat sitting up, darker and cozier, and a shorter trip to the bathroom or kitchen.
“You’ve been sleeping in here?"
“You know what, you get a star sticker for observation, Beau.” Garnet turned to look up at him only to wince at a flash of pain.
“You’re still hurt.”
“Nothing gets past you,” he muttered, forcing himself to lie back.
“When are you due for your next dosage of pain medicine?”
“Look, I didn’t say you could come in here. You did what Thatcher asked, thank you, now you can go.” But Beau didn’t seem to hear. He went to the medicine cabinet, checking behind the mirror before going down the hall towards the bedroom. “Hey! Where the hell are you goin’?” he paused, trying to listen for him through his one good ear. “Beau!”
“Yes?” Beau passed the doorway going to the kitchen.
“Go. Get back to work.” Garnet struggled to sit up, squinting at the door. “This is an invasion of privacy. Stop snooping through my things.” It was a moment or so before Beau came back.
“I can’t find any medication anywhere. Only nausea pills that are out of date by six months.”
“Go. Back. To. Work. Now. Get out of my apartment!” He attempted to glare through bruises. Beau stared at him for a moment and nodded.
“Okay,” and he left. Garnet heard the front door shut behind him and only then allowed himself to sit back. He listened to the rumble of traffic outside, water moving in the pipes, and a dog barking from some other unit. But eventually fell asleep.
He was prodded awake. “Garnet. Garnet, wake up,” he jolted at the hand on him, nearly blacking out from the pain. When it finally settled he peered up through tears at Beau leaning over the side of the tub. There was still daylight coming down the hall from the living room, and Beau was still in his stupid big jacket.
“What? What?!” Garnet hissed. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?”
“I did. I went and got your medicine. They said they’d been holding it for almost a week.” It wasn’t until then that Garnet registered the glass of water and bottle cap with two pills Beau was offering him. “I got some other things that will hopefully help too. Like food.”
Garnet continued to stare stupidly and finally looked up at Beau. He studied him for a moment. “Oh…okay, thanks.” He finally said, taking the cap to dump in his mouth and then the glass. It was awkward to hold but he managed it. Beau waited, taking the glass when he was done to set on the sink where he had a grocery bag in the basin. “What happened to you being glued to Ryker’s hip?”
“I’ve been approved to take small jobs on my own now. I’ve learned a lot.” He smiled to himself, digging into the bag. “Oh, Valetta said to tell you she’s really worried about you. She tried to come over two days ago, but she said you didn’t answer. She wants you to call her.”
“Tell her I’m resting.”
“Don’t you want to call her? I thought the two of you were close,” Beau paused.
“Look, aren’t you supposed to go back to work? Aren’t you still on shift?” Garnet eyed him.
“I let Thatcher know you needed some help with things here, and he said it was alright if I did.”
“Agh, Beau,” Garnet rest his head back, shutting his eyes. “You can’t do that, bud.”
The shuffling of the bag stopped. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Yeah. You can’t tell people I need help.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” Garnet grimaced at the silence knowing Beau wouldn’t take just that as an answer.
“Can you elaborate so I can understand why telling people you need help is a bad thing?”
“Well, I –I mean asking for help isn’t bad. But if they think I need help they’ll get all worried and will come over here causing a scene, and I don’t want their pity or to hear about it.”
“But they’re already worried about you, and they don’t pity you. They’re saying a lot of good things about you at—”
“Stop. You’re doing it,” Garnet huffed. “Look, when you go back tell them everything is fine. Okay? I don’t need anything.” Beau pointed towards the kitchen, started to say something, and caught himself. “I’m fine. I told you that earlier. I don’t need help.”
“You’re in pain.”
“Yeah but—”
“And you have the same bandages from the hospital. You need to have your stitches checked and possibly bandages changed.” Beau removed his jacket, hanging it on the doorknob. He then removed his boots and weapon belt, gingerly stepping into the tub.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Garnet frowned but didn’t have the energy for much more. Carefully, Beau was sure not to step on him as he moved to the other end, sitting down between Garnet’s feet.
“I can’t turn in a completed wellness check until I know your bandages and wounds are clean. If you don’t check them, you could get an infection and end up back at the hospital.”
“Yeah, I’ll get to it,” he sighed. He would. He’d get to his bandages, and the pile of dishes, and the trash, and the dirty clothes. “You should really worry more about work. We’re already down a person as is.”
“I’m still on call,” Beau assured. Garnet didn’t care that it got quiet after that, he didn’t feel like being social and wasn’t exactly in the condition to be a host for someone who just invited themselves in. “The way you’re avoiding people has me concerned as well. That isn’t like you. Are you sure you’re doing alright?”
Garnet huffed, continuing to ignore him. This wasn’t a conversation he was having right then.
When there wasn’t a response Beau said, “I know we’re not exactly friends, that you don’t like me too much, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Who the hell said that?” Garnet glared.
“Well, we don’t entirely meet the definition of friends.”
“We’re friends. Just… working on it.” Beau perked at that, sitting up straighter with a smile. Something in the tub thunked.
“Really? We’re friends?” The shower head came alive, water spraying down on both of them. Beau’s brow wrinkled in confusion as if trying to make sense of things, and then his eyes widened, turning to find he’d hit the knob. Garnet closed his eyes against the water, too tired to be upset. “I’m so sorry, Garnet!” Beau blurted, struggling to cut it back off.
“Don’t worry about it,” he could only chuckle, opening his eyes once the water finally stopped. Beau grimaced, completely soaked, curls hanging in his face as he watched Garnet. “I probably need a shower. It’s been a few days. I don’t know what smells worse, me or the trash in the kitchen.” Giving himself a second, Garnet sat up. “Why don’t you go change of clothes before I have to put you in rice or something?”
“I… I didn’t bring any clothes.”
“Go get some from my room,” Garnet couldn’t help the snicker, hand bracing his middle. “You’ve already rummaged through everything, might as well go get something.” Beau fumbled to his feet to get out, still as careful not to hurt Garnet.
“Do you need help out?”
“Nah, it’s a slow go. Go change.” He waved him off. He’d just gotten his feet under him when Beau came back wearing clothes that were clearly too big. Instantly he started to help Garnet out of the sling, holding it under an arm to begin removing his bandages. Beau had the same sharp, single-minded concentration all Synthetics did when locking onto a task deemed important. He was so focused on the bandage work, he forgot emulating processes like blinking or moving less uncanny valley.
Garnet watched him in turn, knowing Beau probably didn’t notice and Garnet didn’t entirely care if he did. He was trying to figure out why Beau was doing this. Changing bandages and checking stitches wasn’t protocol for a wellness check, and surely Beau knew Garnet was aware of that. So what was he trying to gain from this? A friendship?
Why?
Beau spiraled up the used bandages, starting with those around his arm where stitches were. They were red and irritated, and there was another moment of study before Beau finally blinked and looked up at him. “Good thing we’re changing these now. Too much longer and they could have gotten infected.”
“I thought Mikki was the medic?”
“I know a little first aid,” Beau nodded. “But I’m not medically trained, no.”
“Oh, great,” Garnet laughed again, the suddenness making him flinch.
“This is hardly a medical procedure,” Beau frowned, continuing on removing the bandages around his ribs. He spiraled them up just the same, checking any scrapes or bruises. “You have tattoos,” he announced as if Garnet may have not been aware.
“Yep, had some of them awhile.”
“Did they hurt?” Beau continued to unwrap.
“Some of them. Why? You want one?” He smirked at that watching Beau consider it.
“I think so, but I don’t think it’s possible for me.”
“What would you get?” it was quiet as Beau thought about it, finishing the bandages and stepping back to look his work over.
"A philodendron,” he finally announced. “Philodendron melanochrysum, exactly.”
“I’d have to look that up.”
“They have big green leaves that look like hearts. I think they’re nice,” Beau nodded, moving over to the shower to collect the damp pillows and blanket from the tub. “Okay, you should be alright, now. You take a shower and I’ll replace the bandages when you’re done.”
“Beau, why are you not going back to work?”
“Because I’m not done here yet.” Was all he said from behind the pile, moving into the hall. Garnet stared after him before giving up and taking a sad excuse of a shower. But he had to admit he felt better after. The pain medicine was just starting to kick in, and he was still achy and stiff, but being clean made him feel better.
He stepped out finding clean clothes were waiting on him, as well as one of the bar stools. He eyed the stool as he carefully dried his stitches and got into the pajama pants. He could hear the washer going in the laundry room, pausing to listen.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror finding the stubble on his face was somehow worse than he’d imagined. It came in thick along his jaw and chin and became patchy along his cheeks. That paired with the darkened circles beneath his eyes gave him the look of a deranged old man. It matched how he felt. The bag Beau had was missing from the sink, bandages, a plastic razor, and a can of shaving cream sat on the counter.
Toeing the stool aside he gradually lifted his least busted arm to the mirror, flicking it open to get the straight blade from a shelf. Luckily for him, he’d busted his dominant arm so he got the choice of potentially butchering his face or dislocating his shoulder again. Swapping it into his injured hand he decided to take a chance with his shoulder.
He twisted the water on, carefully shaking the can Beau had brought making note to pay him back later. Even the faint movement made his ribs ache and he hoped the pain medicine hurried. Wetting his face and lathering up he steadied the blade in his hand, eyeing it as if it were a wild viper and, slowly, brought it to his face.
Tilting his jaw he began on the curve of the mandible, forcing pressure into his hand that surprisingly took it well. He’d taken a great deal of abuse over the years, but his body seemed willing to cooperate. He pulled the razor across his skin carefully, slowly. In his sad shape he was doing admirably, almost finished with one side when a spasm of pain jolted across the shelf of his shoulder and down his arm. His hand jerked –a movement he had no hope of controlling– and the instant bite of the blade painfully tore into his skin causing him to drop it in the sink as if it would stop the pain.
He grit his teeth, humming in lieu of stringing off every curse word he knew.
“Here,” the hand on his shoulder startled him.
“Shit,” Garnet huffed, bracing himself on the counter as Beau gently pressed him away from the sink. He gave the bar stool a pat before winding up tissue to press to the fresh cut. Garnet shut his eyes against the pain, unsure how much more he could take at the moment.
“Have a seat,” Beau whispered, and that wasn’t the reason he sat down. He didn’t sit down because he was hurt or because Beau wanted him to. He was tired.
“Okay, what are you doing? What’s going on?” Garnet got out as Beau got the cut to stop bleeding.
“I should be asking you the same thing. What are you doing using your arm when you aren’t supposed to? The doctors most likely told you better than that.” Beau added more lather before rinsing the blade and giving it a tap. “Be still please, let me fix it.”
Garnet leaned back as he brought the blade close. “Stop,” their eyes met, Garnet’s brows pinching in irritation. “Answer the question, what’s going on?”
“When I asked about your facial hair you said ‘Yeah, thanks. I hate it.’ As in you don’t want it on your face. Correct?” Garnet stared, mouth opening uselessly as his brows bent. His brain finally gave him something to say and he scowled.
“You’re gonna give me a shave? You don’t even shave.”
“Are you scared I’ll hurt you?”
“I’m not scared!”
“Alright, then you shouldn’t have a problem with me giving you a shave,” Beau leaned in again, moving around the cut starting at his cheek. Beau’s eyes narrowed as he took care in moving in steady strokes. In silence, Garnet watched him become lost in his work, adjusting the position of Garnet’s face every so often, rhythmically cleaning the blade between pulls. He knew he should tell Beau to stop, to leave him alone, to go and never come back, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Beau twisted, rinsing and tapping the blade before returning. “I didn’t know what you might like to wear, but I have clothes washing. They shouldn’t be too much longer. I have food ordered too. I didn’t consider if you’d eaten before, you should eat for your pain medicine. You aren’t feeling sick are you?”
“No,” but he couldn’t get venom into it. “I’m not decrepit, Beau. You’re doing too much.” Beau tapped the cut he’d covered with tissue. “Ow! C’mon.”
“Not decrepit, no, but you almost earned yourself another set of stitches. If you’re not going to ask for help, I’m just going to show up and give it to you.”
“I don’t need—”
“Please be quiet, you’re going to make me cut you.” He tilted Garnet’s head back to work on his throat. Garnet tensed and Beau stopped. He paused, watching Garnet’s face, but not pressing on. Garnet reminded himself it was Beau, he’d never done anything before to suggest he’d hurt anyone and if he did it’d probably be enough to finish the job.
Garnet released a long breath, “Okay,” and closed his eyes. He let his shoulders fall, feeling the way Beau’s hands moved. They were warm, bracing along his jaw and tracing behind the blade as if testing to see if he was getting a close enough shave. Eventually, he urged Garnet’s face down again, quickly working under his nose and his sideburns.
“There,” Beau abruptly finished, turning for a rag, dampening it, and wiping Garnet’s face down. “Let’s get you bandaged up.” He took a box from the cabinet, pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment, and gently applied it to the stitches. The ache had become nothing more than a fuzzy presence when he moved a certain way, making it much easier to cooperate as Beau wrapped his arm and ribs, helping him back into the sling. “Done. Feel better?”
“Yeah… thanks.” He watched Beau clear the sink and wash the razor. As he turned to step out, Garnet grabbed his arm, grimacing at the tenderness in his shoulder. Beau looked up, expectantly, waiting for Garnet to say something. Only, he didn’t know what to say. “Wait.” he blurted oh-so intelligently.
“I am,” Beau assured. As he stared Garnet felt color grow in his face and started to panic.
“You don’t, uh, you don’t have to do all of this.”
“I know,” Beau nodded, not trying to pull away, not squinting at him as if he were the stupidest living thing on the planet. “I want to.”
Shit.
Garnet let go of him, shuffling awkwardly as Beau stepped around to get the stool. He left with it and Garnet slowly leaned out into the hall. There was a distinct lack of smell from the rest of the apartment. Curiously he followed Beau to the kitchen, gawking at the pristine counters and stove. The balcony door was propped open, letting in autumn air and the hum of traffic below. All the trash had been taken out, everything wiped down, the broom leaning against one of the cabinets.
“Did you…?”
“I didn’t want you trying to take the bins down until you’re better,” Beau informed happily. “I knew you’d probably try it.” At least, he’d planned on it. Garnet braced his balance against the wall feeling drained again. Nodding dumbly he turned himself around, unsure if he could take being in the same room. He felt like a slob, a useless, unproductive slob.
Garnet went back to the bedroom, stepping in and coming to an abrupt stop. His two week old bedding had been changed. The thick winter comforter had been brought out, sheets replaced with one of the jersey sets he’d gotten when he first moved in. Clothes were picked up off the floor and the pillows were arranged on the bed. Everything looked clean and cozy.
He barely heard someone knocking.
A little bit later Beau called out to him from the end of the hall, Garnet managing to get himself turned around to stare. “Food’s here,” he held up the bag, smiling.
“Thanks, bud,” he managed to get out.
“Were you going to lie down? I can bring it in there.” Before he could answer, Beau was already darting into the kitchen for a plate. Garnet wasn’t sure if it were the painkillers or the shock of having someone come in and clean up the mess he’d been avoiding, feeling like he wasn’t quite in his body.
Painkillers. It’s gotta be the painkillers.
He managed to get to the bed, trying to avoid the chest tightening thoughts as he sat down. It seemed like no time at all Beau came in with a bowl of pad thai. “Before you ask,” he announced, “I didn’t ask, Valetta told me this was something you liked. She doesn’t know you haven’t eaten today.”
“Beau, listen,” Garnet’s voice tried to fizzle out on him, clearing his throat. “I know you’re being nice, and I appreciate it, but you’ve got to pump the breaks, bud. You’re doing too much.” Beau tilted his head, brow wrinkling.
“I’m sorry. I was worried I might have overstepped, but I didn’t want you being stubborn –like you are– and hurting yourself worse. I know you’re uncomfortable. And I didn’t hack into your medical report!” he hurried to defend. “I arrived on scene with Ryker and saw that guy punch your head against the cement floor. I knew at that moment you had a concussion, if not a fractured skull. And I know it must be painful, so I wanted to help so you could heal faster.”
Garnet stared at him, thankful he didn’t remember that bit, probably having blacked out before then. “Why?” It slipped out before he could stop it. “Why would you want to help me?”
“Well, I want to be friends with you,” Beau said casually, sitting at the foot of the bed. “But you said we’re already friends—”
“Working on it.”
“And you took care of me that night when I was hurt. So, I wanted to take care of you, too. That’s what friends do.” And he smiled. Garnet felt that squeezing in his chest again. He realized it had been a while without a response when Beau started fidgeting with his hands, expression a bit defeated.
“Yeah,” Garnet got himself to say. “I guess you’re right. You… uh, do you have to go back to the station tonight?”
Beau abruptly got to his feet, “I was going to call for a car when my uniform finishes in the dryer, but I can take it with me if you need me to. I’ll lock up before I leave.” He started for the door.
“No, Beau. Dammit, wait!” He did, turning back around still fidgeting. “I was gonna say, you’re welcome to stay the night if you want. No real sense going back now if your shift is over. We can watch a movie or something. Whatever you usually do.”
“I like movies.” Beau smiled. Garnet nodded, getting the projector remote from the nightstand as Beau went to lock up. He sat at the foot of the bed as Garnet flipped through a few selections.
“Beau, sit back here,” Garnet chuckled, nodding towards the pillows. Beau shuffled back to sit, sinking into the pile. “You ever seen one of these?”
“Ooh! Yeah!” Beau pointed madly at the screen. “I saw the first one at Valetta’s. ‘Baba-Yaga. It was just a fuckin’ car, just a fuckin’ dog’.” He mimicked a line from the movie perfectly, grinning at Garnet when he laughed.
“Wanna watch the second one?”
“Yeah!” Beau cheered, waving finger guns. Garnet chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he started the movie. He didn’t entirely understand Beau’s motives for sticking around, but he decided to leave it up to Tomorrow Garnet. When he wasn’t on painkillers.
Yeah. Tomorrow Garnet would have all the answers.