terry richmond x black fem oc (ameraah templeton)
summary ; for terry and ameraah, this is only the beginning. and it starts in two seats in the emergency room.
word count ; 3.1k
warnings ; death mentions, light angst and small fainting spell due to concussion
｢ author's note: welcome to the first chapter of my original fic "5920 Meridian Avenue"!!! i really hope you enjoy the ride i am about to take you on. if you enjoy, please like, reblog, and comment! as well if you would like to be added to the taglist. enjoy ♡ ｣
Ameraah's POV:
Nurses and doctors running back and forth, the sound of hurried feet, rushed voices and even a hungry baby is all that whizzes pass her ears. She sits in a very uncomfortable hospital chair, the legs rock unsteadily, nubbed down probably from years of anxious, fearful and maybe even at times happy visits to the ER. The overhead florescent lights bother her already shaky vision, and she can only think about "What comes next?". And she hates it. She hates everything single thing about it.
The not knowing, not understanding, the fear, the stress. Before she even realizes it, she feels her heart beating against her chest like a wild stampede ready to be released from the cage. She feels herself breathing heavy, but she attempts as best as she can to keep it inside. She feels every piece of her clothing on her, from the way her hoodie slides just barely off her shoulder with the intense moving around she's done all afternoon, to the feeling of her toes curling within her old beaten up chucks as she closes her eyes for a moment.
Just a moment…that's all she needs. And she exhales softly.
Just a moment.
After a few moments of breathing, she tries to quiet her mind as best as she can, though the ringing in her ears and the throbbing pain at the back of her skull, finding its way to the forefront makes the task significantly harder than it should be.
She groans softly, bringing a hand to her forehead, lightly rubbing against it, attempting to bring herself some kind of relief.
"Meerah…"
"Meerah…?"
"Ameraah."
His rough and steel tone brings her back to and, she doesn't know whether she wants to be angry, annoyed or relieved to know he's still there with her; still alive… she thinks to herself. Despite how she feels about any of it, she abhors the way her pulse, almost unnoticeable, calms at the sound of him saying her name.
"Why are you yelling?" she asks him roughly, not meaning to, but she isn't reaching to fix her tone any time soon.
He clears his throat and it's like he has gone out of his way to be even louder.
She feels a sharp pain shoot through the back of her head and her ears ring again.
"But…I'm not?"
It's like he doesn't realize she's sitting right next to him, and instead yelling directly into her ear with a bullhorn at max volume.
She slightly doubles over, putting both hands on her forehead, trying to reign in the horrible sharp pain in her head and quiet everything down. All the sounds running together and she can't catch a fucking break.
"Stop fucking yelling— oW!" Ameraah yells, and before she can say anything else, she feels herself falling forward, the pain becoming overwhelming. Her vision goes too bright and falls into darkness as she feels her hands and breath become shaky.
The last thing she hears before everything goes dark is Terry calling for a nurse, and she feels two arms grab her before she hits the floor.
3 Hours later ——————————————
When Ameraah comes back to, her eyes snap open and she sits up much too quick for her liking.
"Fuck—" she drags the word out, groaning at the slight sting of the IV in her arm and her head still hurting, but significantly less than before.
"Would you take it easy? Please…" She turns toward Terry’s voice, looking at him standing near the window. He gives her a once over as she lightly struggles in the hospital bed, before he lifts the blinds a little to do a quick check. Something since seeing him again she's noticed that he does fairly often.
She chooses to leave her thoughts be, not having it in her to have much of a conversation right now. She scratches around her IV area at the slight sting and questions Terry about the last hour— "What the hell happened?" she asks grabbing the remote for her bed, and setting it so she can sit up right.
"Well actually it's been three hours and you have a concussion, so stay your ass in that bed."
Ameraah rolls her eyes at his words, even in more tiring moments, Terry still finds it hard to "turn it off". She exhales heavily, trying her best to keep her quick wit to herself, and not throw a couple of not so nice words his way, despite how much she really wants and would love to yell at someone, anyone really right now.
She lays back against the small pillow behind her head, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath just as she hears her room door click open.
"And how are we feeling Miss Templeton? Any more pain in your head or anywhere else?"
She swallows lightly, shaking her head.
"Just a dull pain at the base of my head, but other than that, I'm good…I think."
Ameraah watches for a second as the nurse jots down some information, and lets her eyes wander over at Terry still looking out the window. His jaw is clenched and hasn't parted with the dash-cam footage since he broke it out of the trunk of the police cruiser. They aren't on the best of terms right now, even before…she feels her hands shake at the memory—but right now? She can't help but imagine how he must be feeling. Not even a day ago Mike was still here, alive…so how did this all happen so fast?
The clearing of Nurse Harper's throat as she finishes writing causes Ameraah to look away from him and focus wholly on her.
"Will I be able to leave soon?"
She makes a face Ameraah can't quite read, and it makes her wish she hadn't asked. For as long as she could remember she's hated hospitals. To her, they've always smelt like death, and felt like it even more. Especially when her grandmother got sick a few years back. Last time she was in a hospital she lost her, and now here she is again and she’s lost someone else.
"The doctors said your vitals and everything else were fine, so technically you are free to go; however, we all agree you should at least stay overnight just to be safe…" — Upon hearing the nurses words, it isn’t lost on Ameraah, the look she shares with Terry.
Ameraah looks over to Terry already staring back at her with a look she could decipher from a mile away. He, wants her to stay overnight, yet another choice he is attempting to make without consulting her. She grunts frustratingly and throws her legs over the side of the bed as she stares directly into Nurse Harper’s eyes.
"I am not a fucking child, and he, does not! Speak for me…I said I feel fine, and if the doctor thinks that I’m okay to go, then so be it." She says through a harsh glare, in part she feels bad, knowing her feelings and words are for Terry more than anyone else, plus, at the end of the day the poor nurse is just trying to do her job.
Ameraah exhales heavily, sending the nurse an apologetic look.
"I-I know, and of course, it’s all up to you, I just think your boyfriend here just wants to be s-"
"He isn’t my boyfriend…"
Terry's POV:
When he heard the nurse and in turn Ameraah’s words he couldn’t help but grimace inwardly. Despite hearing what she said, he knows what she truly meant; he isn't her boyfriend— he isn't anything to her…and on one hand, he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it, but on the other, he can’t stop caring about her, especially at a time like this. Terry exhales softly, trying his best to reign in everything he’s feeling, he is drained knowing he has nothing more to give and at the very least would like to get through the night.
"Ameraah…please, I don’t want to fight. Just stay overnight and I’ll leave it be. Promise."
He watches the back of her head trying to garner her reaction, though the way her shoulders fall he can gather she’s accepted his ask…for now. For just this one night.
Too much has already happened and if anything were to happen to her too…he feels himself shudder with dread at the thought. Terry knows he wouldn’t be able to handle losing two important people to him in such a short amount of time, so he forces the thought down and keeps on a brave face.
"Thank you…" he says to her pitifully. Still watching her, she rolls her shoulders back, and gets comfortable in the hospital bed, closing her eyes for a moment and breathing softly.
"Uhm, Nurse Harper, our friend ‘Summer McBride’? She was taken in as well when we came in. Is she doing better? Would we be able to visit her tonight perhaps?"
Nurse Harper nods as she takes out her tablet, looking through some files and nods once more.
"Hmm, okay I see here we have a ‘Summer G. McBride, and based off the notes, she is doing much better. Dr. Harvey is the attending and it seems they’re still dealing with getting the remainder of what ever was used on her out of her system, but as far as I see she is allowed to take visitors."
Terry nods softly, taking her words in stride, looking over at Ameraah. She hasn’t moved an inch, but her opened eyes lets him know she heard the nurse. He tries his best to extend an olive branch of sorts, because right now, despite all their personal shit, they need each other.
"If you're up for it Meerah, we can go see Summer…"
He sees Ameraah look between him and the nurse, seeing the faraway look in her eyes brings him back to the ride in the police cruiser on the way to the hospital.
Between keeping an eye on Marsten in the passenger seat, he would check on her and Summer in the back through the rear view and he can say in almost 20 years of knowing Ameraah, he has never seen her so terrified, rattled and dazed like she was when she was all but cradling Summer against her side, trying her best to keep her awake and calm.
"Can we get a minute please?"
Nurse Harper nods, giving the two of them the room.
Terry sets the footage inside his backpack, letting it lean against the leg of Ameraah’s hospital bed, and makes his way to her side.
He sits next to her and exhales softly.
"Look, it wasn’t your fault Ameraah. Summer knew what they were capable of, besides I gave her an out, but she wanted to stay. To help us, to fight with us, for Mi—"
He exhales shakily, feeling choked up as he turns his head, seeing a few tears fall past her blinking eyes. She sniffles and wipes her face with her sleeve. Ever the strong person she always was.
He puts a hand on her thigh, feeling her tense, but he doesn’t move, he needs to know she hears him, he needs to know she understands him.
"You saved her life in the back of that cruiser, and I am sure she wants to see you. She’ll be able to go home and see her girl again because of you. Remember that…"
Terry feels her calm, if only a little, and hears her release a shaky but soft exhale at his words. She clears her throat and speaks— "Nurse Harper?" She calls out. When the nurse makes her way back in, he sets his hand back on his lap, coming to a stand and giving them space as she begins to work on Ameraah.
"She’ll be in Room 1007, and if anyone asks, let them know you’ve been given the ok by her attending." She speaks aloud to both Terry and Ameraah as she gets her set up with a portable IV.
They both nod, and once she finishes her last check, they head out towards Summer’s room.
The journey there isn’t long, but it’s just enough time for Terry to let his mind wander, and Ameraah to begin to spiral and almost regret her decision. Not that there’s much time to say anything to one another because before they know it, they’re standing in front of Summer McBride’s door.
They both stand there for what feels like an eternity, until Ameraah finally knocks.
"C-Come in…"
Hearing Summer’s very alive but weak voice almost makes Terry break down, but he powers through and pushes the door open, holding it open for Ameraah to wheel her partner for the remainder of the night through.
"Hey hey you two, I was wonderin’ when they would let you visit…"
Terry lets the door click closed as he and Ameraah find a seat in her room. It’s eerily quiet and Ameraah can’t even look at Summer, and Terry upon seeing her again, bags under her eyes, still shaky, sitting cross legged on the bed in her hospital gown and a pair of sweats; it’s like his own form of torture, of a reminder that at the end of the day he didn’t really help anyone and all he did was fa—
"Terry….Ameraah…I want you both to look at me, and hear me good, cause I’ma only say this once."
He looks at Summer with heavy eyes, and Ameraah follows suit.
"Y’all aren’t gonna sit here and act like I’m some victim…We all did the right thing. I kicked it once and I’ll kick it again, and I live damn well knowing none of this was by my own hand. So I want y’all to pick up those faces and be happy to see me, alive and breathin’, cause I’m damn happy to see you both."
He hears Ameraah let out a weighted breath, like she’s never had fresh air in her lungs before, and he feels himself do the same. He watches as she crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed with Summer and hugs her close. Grasping at her back like she’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold her tight enough.
It brings a sense of relief to him, even if for a moment, knowing despite all that they’ve lost, they have also gained things that can never be replaced.
After spending a good portion of the afternoon with Summer, eventually she kicked them out of her room, as she needed rest, both understanding all too well, as that’s exactly what they needed too.
Once they got back to Ameraah’s room, Terry watched closely as she got comfortable in her bed, the clock barely ticking past 7:30pm, though with the way she laid down, exhaling tiredly, he knew she was down for the count as well.
He sat in a chair near the bathroom in her room, and began to get "comfortable" only for her to stop him.
"You don’t have to stay here overnight you know…"
He looks up at her, looking at him with an unreadable expression, he shrugs his shoulders lightly trying not to cause any unnecessary issues.
"They said I was allowed to stay overnight." He stated calmly, but assured.
She got up from her bed, reaching her jacket hanging near the door and rummaged through her pockets, taking out a key ring.
"I just—I don’t want or need to be babysat tonight. Just go to my motel, it’s been a long week and you need an actual bed. I’ll call you in the morning when they discharge me."
Terry sits on the edge of the chair, almost ready to stand and fight against this choice. This choice of him leaving, them separating, her being alone…and him being unable to protect her.
She exhales, walking over to him and setting the key on the side table and heading back to her bed— "Just please, I need a night…please Terrance."
As he watches her lay down, pulling herself into a curled position, facing the window as she pulls the sheets over her, it breaks his heart. It thrusts him back to Spring 2010 when Ameraah learned her mother passed only a few months after her 15th birthday, and he hadn’t seen her in the weeks following. When he finally laid eyes on her, it was like seeing an empty husk in the place of his best friend.
And just like then, he still doesn’t know what to say, what to do, or how to fix it and make it all better. At least back then, even when she was pushing him away, she let him sit in her room in silence against her bed-frame until she was ready to move. But now? She wants him to go. She wants to be alone and for once…he can’t blame her.
He grabs the key, strapping on his backpack, and makes his way to the door.
He looks back at her, watching her slow breathing, slight shake and tense shoulders hanging entirely too high from a person that the world has already taken entirely too much from.
He forces himself to move, because if he stays any longer he won’t leave. Won’t respect her very simple request, and will only make things significantly worse.
He grabs the handle, and pulls down— "As soon as they discharge you…" he says softly, though it doesn’t miss on her the slight crack in his tone. Ameraah has to force her heated tears down, and swallow the lump in her throat as she hears the click of the door opening and the click of it closing behind him.
Without a doubt, it’ll be a sleepless night for the both of them, Ameraah cries harder than she has in years, mind spiraling with what could have been, what should have been vs. what is.
And Terry keeps up a brave face, even while alone in the Station 53 Motel, Room 810. Though the words and things he recalls are anything but nice. Words reserved for a failure, words reserved for someone who at best, leeches his way through life, and at worst, is useless to everyone around him. Especially, when it really counts.
Terrance James Richmond, and Ameraah Osanhi Templeton have lost Michael Jomari Simmons-Davis; it is no longer a question, but a matter and statement of fact.
Who the fuck cares what comes next, he isn’t here, and they are…and now they have to live knowing Mike’s gone.
He’s gone.
☋ - if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment or shoot me an ask!
i'm alive, am so so sorry. i wont even lie to you, i have been super afk from life in such a blEGH way that i am trying to find my way back, i dont know what the hell will happen but i know i miss writing so badly and re-reading the little i have written on here has given me a little something of myself back so am hoping i can do something with that, i guess we'll see lol heres to hoping ♡
i love re-consuming media i used to love when i was younger. like wow! child me still is in me i am holding her hand and keeping her safe and doing her favorite things with her!!!!
huuuuge fan of little phrases you can add to the end of your sentences just for fun. "if you even care" and "btw" and "I fear" have done sooo much for my vocabulary. if you even care
I do have to say one thing about a particular scene in "Sinners" that was another red flag about Remmick's intentions....
*spoilery things ahead*
I couldn't get over how insidious it was of him to use our ring-shout ceremony to force-assimilate the Black juke joint folks into his little vampire cabal.
That clockwise and counterclockwise dancing in a circle is so powerful for us. We did it in Congo Square, among the Geechee/Gullah in the low country, and elsewhere. It is the place of communing with spirits to put us in a trance-like state to open that doorway. We use it in Hoodoo, Voodoo, Candomble, Obeah and other syncretic religious off-shoots that we've created and used throughout the Black Diaspora to bind us with our ancestors and call down our Gods/Orishas/Loas to often ride us like horses.
For him to use our most intimate way to connect with our own for his nefarious use--forcing us to dance to his music, and sing HIS Irish songs--offended me the best way in a movie. Ryan did his homework! I almost shouted in the theater, "Oh, no this dude did not just use our cultural practices to uplift him and his own. Tricking them into thinking they were the same."
Anyhoo, shout out to the ring-shout. The details in this fucking movie still blow me away. The ring-shout dancing is liberation for us and often had be done hidden away in the woods. Watching it used to enslave Black people again was intense.
Sidenote: Jack O'Connell was dancing his ass off and I'm so happy he got to get back into his Irish dancing roots himself! Somebody throw on Beyonces "Riverdance"! Lol!
