Here comes the Blue Moon!..the next time there are 2 blue moons in one year will be 2037...the name “ blue moon” is given to a second full moon in a month...according to records this generally happens every 2.7 years...@michaelguillenPhd has a wonderful article: “Easter’s blue moon is a message from the heavens” if you can find it online...he says absent the sun, absent God, we are as dark as the far side of the moon...I hope you can locate this short article...he is a scientist and a Christian and he suggests at the end of his article that the creator of the universe is calling on all of us....I’ll not spoil his whole article! #deborahgibsondesign #michaelguillenphd #bluemoon #kindness #compassion #thecreatoroftheuniverse (at Greenville, South Carolina)
(Tempt) "If I had one night alone with you...I'd let you know why you should pick me over my pathetic other half Joey."
"I have a great idea, man. How about this: if you ever want to get in my favor, don’t insult my boyfriend. Even if you are a piece of him. He isn’t pathetic." "He’s mine."
This originally began as an answer to thecreatoroftheuniverse's ask box meme of "Our muses have just lost their first child together. How does yours react?" and ended up being a drabble.
I have no regrets.
warning: implied miscarriage.
“Jezebel?”
Joey’s voice was soft and soothing, but laced with worry as he searched his lover’s eyes for any reaction, any sign that she could hear him. His hand was wrapped around hers, but it was easier than normal. Her fingers were thinner and so was her wrists, the pale, almost ivory skin of her arm only interrupted by the needle of her IV. But her eyes remained dull, almost lifeless, as she blankly stared off into space, and Joey's expression flashed with pain for a moment.
"My love, can you hear me?" His voice was barely a whisper now, almost fearful, but again she did not react, her gaze going right through him. He looked down, his eyes running over her body that was only getting thinner and thinner, and sighed, only looking up to meet eyes with the doctor who was waiting outside the door.
"I'll be right back," Lips were pressed to her forehead before he stood up from his chair, silently making his way over to the doctor. What the doctor was saying was important; the deity knew that. But he couldn't help himself from glancing over to Jezebel's bed every so often, as if she was going to move at any moment and he didn't want to miss it.
The doctors said there was nothing that they could do; she was conscious, but she was barely registering any of her outside environment. It was a result of shock and trauma, they said. That she was practically in a coma, they said. They didn’t know if she’d get out of it before she died, but at this point it was up to her, they said. They said they’d do what they could for her, that her genetic engineering and cybernetics made it easier on them and on her.
But after almost two months even she was starting to look thin. She hadn’t slept or ate, her only nutrients being put into her by the IV.
Joey had barely left her side during the entire ordeal. The nurses took sympathy on him and let him stay past visiting hours and he would fall asleep holding her bony hand. Sherlock, Roxanne, Ross, a green witch who apparently was a friend, Romeo, his brothers... even the super soldier and the dragon had came, as if they were here to pay respects. Some came more often than others, such as Sherlock who made a point of checking in daily, more than often with Roxanne and tow. But Joey had remained there constantly, barely even leaving the room save to get food or drink for himself.
At first he had tried to reach out to her mentally, slip into her mind and somehow get her, but she had strong barriers and Joey was fearful of what would result of he broke them. So he had stuck with talking to her out loud, holding conversations and keeping her updated on news and telling her loved her. But she had yet to react to it.
And it s c a r e d him.
It never occurred to the deity when he first laid eyes on Jezebel that she would become so pivotal in his life. She him feel love and joy, but she also brought out fear and anger when she was hurt. She was a vulnerability, a weakness, and not only did he love her despite that, he loved her for it. He loved how human she could make him feel.
But now he was terrified and depressed, reduced to sitting by her side hoping that she would be okay. He wished he could pray like he had seen so many others in the hospital do for their loved ones. He had actually broken down when a nurse had said that she would ‘pray for your wife in church.’
Who could he pray to?
H E W A S G O D .
He was almost terrified to sleep now, terrified of the dreams that awaited him. Terrified of being able to do nothing but sit and wait and hope without knowing who he should hope for to help.
Terrified that he would have to bury the woman he loved.
His uncomfortable slumber was interrupted by a nurse shaking him awake and Joey practically jumped, the first noise reaching his ears being the constant high pitched beep of the heart monitor as it read a flat line.
Please, anyone but her.
A N Y O N E .
Blinking, Joey was startled to find the hospital bed before him empty, and the nurse asking him if he saw where Jezebel went. He shook his head no, unsure of whether he should be delighted that she was out of bed or worried that he had no idea where she was.
“I see her!” The blonde scrambled out of his chair to look out the window next to the nurse, staring at a thin figure standing next to a tree on the grass. The nurse rushed out to run down the stairs, but Joey was not bound by such methods of travel. An instant and he was behind Jezebel, watching her back carefully.
“Jezebel?” His voice was soft and more shaky that he would have liked, and for a moment he was met with nothing but silence. His heart sank.
She still couldn’t hear h-
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet and hoarse from two months of no use, and she still didn't turn to face him, but she had spoken.
She had heard him.
“It’s my fault.” Her shoulders were shaking and Joey knew that there were tears running down her face. “It’s all my fault.”
He reached forward, pulling her back into his embrace, arms around her waist, lips pressed on the side of her neck.
“It’s not your fault,” He was firm, but not harsh towards her as she sobbed, practically collapsing into his arms as the two sat down together. The nurses and orderlies were out at this point but they stayed back, as if waiting to be told it was okay to intervene. “It’s not your fault. It never was.”
She couldn’t managed coherent sentences between her hysterical cries and sobs that wracked her entire body and made her quiver like a leaf in his arms. All of the pain, sorrow, guilt, agony, and self-hatred that she had contained during her two months of silence came pouring out at once as she lost control of herself, an inhuman wail of sorrow escaping her lips.
Joey didn’t know how long he held her; minutes, hours? She cried until she finally fell asleep, tear-stained and weak and malnourished but in his arms. And Joey had cried with her, silent tears not only for the child they had lost, but for the in-erasable pain it had inflicted on Jezebel.
But despite the pain, he felt compelled with resolve.
They would get through this.
They would.
They h a d to.
"Jezebel." Joey murmured, coming behind the chaos that was an angry manipulator of realities. Gently, slowly he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and distracting her from whatever intended target she had in mind. "Shhh, calm yourself, love." He whispered, kissing her cheek. "You and I know it's best we stay calm, ne?" The Deity smiled lightly, that secret smile only meant for her as he kissed her eyelids shut. "Calm...
Her face, contorted in rage, smoothed out to a neutral expression when she felt an arm wrapped around her waist. It was odd, how he easily he could get her attention. For a moment the rage battled with fear and horror.
He wasn't supposed to see her.
Not like t h i s .
As he spoke, the chunks of earth suspended in the air began to float to their place in the ground and the dark shadows that seemed to swallow the light around them too much to be considered mere darkness receeded back to Swarm's feet, disappearing from sight.
"Sorry," Her voice was still mixed with ones that were not her own, but you could hear her choke back a sob. Her hands reached out to cling to him desperately as tears streamed down her face. She wasn't angry any more. She was scared and ashamed. "I'm so sorry."
omfg I think it's funny the title of Joey's blog is "I'm just an intern..."
Yea an intern who's gonna blow up the fucking planet if he doesn't calm down.
