Participants:
Scene Title | Finding The Path To Normalcy |
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Synopsis | Elisabeth has a few days off. So she gives Abby her two cents, and helps unpack. |
Date | March 18, 2009 |
Village Renaissance Building - Al & Abby's Apartment
An average middle class apartment, it's populated with decidedly not middle class furniture. A solitary red suede couch occupy the immediate living room, with a battered coffee table and side tables as it's companion. A decent sized TV sits on a cupboard with a stereo, DVD player. The kitchen sports a relic from the 70's, with matching chairs that still seem to be in decent condition. The two bedrooms off the hall are distinguishable from the other, one bearing a gold cross nailed above the door, the other not.
In the corner of the living room is an ornate cage on a birdstand, a blue budgie within it's depths. In another corner is a massive cat tree house, and often occupied by a black cat with a red suede collar. It looks barely lived in, like the owners are not yet investing their effort quite yet to move in.
Elisabeth was a godsend. But then, she usually is. With brian running in and out to fetch things for the place, be it cleaning products, a grocery list and cash in hand, Elisabeth and Abby had worked to try and get her place into some semblance of order. Dishes unpacked, unwrapped, put in place, the Kitchen had been priority for the blonde who worked with a quiet fevor. Everything in the place was quiet, not even her radio playing like it usually did. But the bathroom was done, kitchen almost done, almost ready for when brian brought home what she'd need. Another plate was handed over to Liz to put up with the others.
Putting the plate on the stack of them already in the cabinet, Liz looks around and smiles a bit. She'd be surprised to learn Abby thinks of her as a godsend — she would be more prone to categorize the younger woman in that category. (Well, when she's not being the Girl Hostage — a quip she once made aloud but never will again due to recent circumstances.) She still feels a bit guilty that Abby hustled over to the hospital to help her, given Abby's own somewhat fragile health. But as they start getting the new apartment settled, Elisabeth can't help but smile — something, at least, is going all right this week. "I still sort of wish you'd stay with me… just until you feel …. better." Until the panics and the anxiety lessen, she means.
"Brian's here. he's not as good as you, calming me down, but, he's here" Elisabeth just has that voice "I need to just.. I need to get back into my life and see what I can still do, and what needs to change and I can't do that.. laying in your guest bed all day. Not when I have bills and rent and .. I need to get the place ready for Al" Focus, and goals. Better to have them and work towards them than to wallow. "Pills help. Better than nothing. Wish I didn't have to take them but, if I didn't…" Another plate is handed over, last one. "Brian helps. I promise"
Taking the plate and setting it up there, Elisabeth turns and leans back against the counter with her hands braced there while she looks at Abby. "I'm not questioning that you need to get back to your life. I think it's the right thing to do. But I have to admit that I'm worried about you. And I seriously think you need to see someone, Abby. It's going to take time to work through the bad dreams and the panic attacks, and I'm not qualified to help." She grimaces. "you know that I'll listen. God knows, Abby, I'll listen all you want me to. But … I think you need some professional help too. Someone who's got experience with PTSD."
"I can't afford to see some… specialist, see someone Liz. I can afford my rent, and my bills and.. I can manage school and keep hours at work. But I got bills already that didn't stop with me being gone a month" Work doesn't exactly carry health insurance either. "It's not like they're cheap and can be found anywhere. I plan on going to church and .. seeking out the pastor" Elisabeth is watching her so no passing over the cups to be put away. Just unwrap them and place them on the counter.
Elisabeth reaches for the cups. "A pastor would be all right too," she concedes. "If you have one who has some experience with soldiers or cops. St. Johns has one… Father Mulcahey. He deals with a lot of the homeless vets, but he also…." She bites her lip. "He used to organize the cop-circle that I was part of after the Bomb. He's a good guy." She grins. "He's not Catholic, but Episcopalian is Catholic Lite…. close enough for me when I need God's house. I think you'd like him."
"I'm not Catholic Elizabeth. I'm Baptist. I'll figure it out. I just, I need some time to figure it out. If it gets bad enough, i'll ask my parents to come up. They were falling over the phone to hear from me and were threatening to come up" Steady wins the race -the unpacking race that is- the blue mugs passed over to the policewoman. "I'm glad he's helped you. I miss anything with you, do I need to touch you up?"
There's a soft laugh as she puts the cups away. "No, you're not Catholic and you don't have to be to go to St. John's. It was merely a … non sequitor, if you will. Father Mulcahey … well, PASTOR Mulcahey… doesn't discriminate. Like I said, I mention him because he does have experience with trauma." And she shakes her head. "No. I'm fine… gunshot missed anything vital anyway, and…" She looks at Abby. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"I know. I go to St. Johns on Wednesday evenings. It's closer after work. I'd planned to go tonight. I'll see, about seeing someone liz. I'll try. I promise. I just, it's hard enough right now" She reaches out regardless of Elisabeth's words while she herself is speaking, mentally tossing out a prayer, checking, double checking her own handiwork, not trusting it at the moment. Her concentration is shot to hell of late and it's hard to keep up a steady stream of healing. But she got everything. Of course she didn't, she wouldn't have stopped until she did and Abby pulls her hand back from Liz's after that brief touch.
Elisabeth looks up as Abby touches her, and she scolds very gently, "I'm fine, Abigail." She reaches up to gently push Abby's hair back. "Don't overdo. I can't stop you from doing…. and I'm pathetically grateful that you helped, cuz I hate being shot. But don't overdo, I would feel a hundred times worse if you were to relapse because of me." She smiles a little. "And I'm trying not to nag, I promise. You're an adult, but… I feel very protective right now."
"I'm not overdoing it. I know my limits. Please, just… I'm not some fragile china doll who's going to break at a single drop. If I was, I'd be in… a crazy hospital, instead of unpacking fucking cups in my own home" Language. She doesn't duck away from the touch, tolerating it for whatever small length of time that she can. Try not to imagine Liz's eyes going green. Trying really hard not to imagine that Liz's eyes are going green. "I'm just, i'm glad your okay. I'm glad I could.. do that for you. Can we just just go back to putting this place together. I'm about two seconds away from not being able to breathe, and I just, I'd really like to see if I can get through the day without panicking"
There's a nod. "I know you know your limits. And like I said — you've got more steel than anyone I know, lady. Don't let anyone, even me, tell you otherwise." Liz nudges Abby and teases, "Back to work, you. Tote that barge, lift that bale, gimme more dishes to stock on this cabinet — it's not nearly full enough."
You say, "That's all your getting. I don't have more. I don't own much Liz. This place is like twice the size of the other places and for nearly half the rent" That's it for the kitchen, well and truly."
Elisabeth grins. "I'm sure you'll fix that in no time… if only because you'll fill it with food." She moves to stuff newspaper back into the box that the plates came from. "What's next?"
"we'll see. Less rent means I can spare more money when it starts coming in for my hospital bills" Thank god she didn't land there this time. "I eat at the bar anyways most nights and if I don't drink so much coffee and red bull, then that's more money saved. So some.. good… is coming out of … everything" There has to be a silver lining somewhere. She's grasping for it.
With a nod, Liz replies quietly, "You're going to be okay." It's said with great conviction. "Life's going to get back to something resembling normal." She sighs. "For all of us, I hope." Someday. Cuz not like Liz's is too 'normal' either.
"If I keep saying it enough, it'll happen, it'll all be okay" The box they'd been emptying is broken down, joining the others in the middle of the living room. A glance to the other boxes, to Scarlett who's basking on top of one of them Abby just sighs, rubbing at her temples. "Enough for today. I still have my headache from Magnes. We got the kitchen done. Brian and I can hit up the living room stuff and the closets tonight, after work" If she can put her apartment in order, she tells herself, she can put the rest of herself in order. That has to be true yes?
"When do you go back to work?" Elisabeth asks quietly. "You said you were going to talk to your boss." She hasn't quite put together yet that Abby's WORKING with the other people on that raid. She's never been to Old Lucy's.
"Tonight. In a couple hours. Showing up at opening time and working for a few hours. Isabelle wants me back when I'm ready, Huruma sad to take it on a slow night. If they had their way it'd be a couple weeks before I came back" But it's money. It always boils down to money. "Was only a little hard, to walk in there, and i'll be safe there" Abby gathers up the wrapping paper, folding it all into one neat pile before she grabs for the roll of twine, bind everything into two neat packages for the recycling containers.
Elisabeth looks a little…. concerned. "Okay, call me wicked paranoid. But … really? Are you sure? Cuz…" Well, given people's tendencies to snatch Abby, Liz can't help it.
"Elisabeth. I HAVE to go back to work" The knot on the twine is getting far too much pressure applied and attention from the blonde. "I can't lay in bed all day and hide under the covers, or sit on the couch and let the day pass. I want to, but I can't. Al need a place to come home to. I need a place. Money doesn't grow on tree's and the.. whomever it is that looked at what you handed them, doesn't give a care to what I went through. Logan and Muldoon are sorely mistaken if they think that they're going to take me from the bar. Not when my boss is a fucking pyro and I there's much more in that bar who are special. Ever wonder WHY they took me in front of my house? They knew about my boss Elisabeth. her threw her in my face and threatened to hurt her" Up she stands from tying up the boxes. "Life goes on. The world turns and I want off, I want to get off the ride, but I can't, there's no magic stop button and those who SHOULD care, don't. So I have to try. I need to try. It's why.. I'm letting Brian keep a copy here. Letting him sleep in the room with me"
There's an immediate nod. "I wasn't saying 'don't' or trying to talk you out of it. I swear." Elisabeth forces a small smile. "Living well is the best revenge, or so I'm told. So…. we just have to get you living well. What can I do for you besides hover like a mother hen, which I definitely feel like I'm doing?"
"You can.." Abby runs a hand through her hair, rubbing at her head. "uhh, There's a box, by the phone, with a binder, and there's numbers in there, can you see when the next set of classes start at the college. There's a list of the ones I was supposed to take. I need to see about getting enrolled again. They gave me back my tuition, minus what I had to forfeit, I didn't have the patience to deal with them and explain why" The boxes and papers are carried over to the door, laid there to be taken down by Brian later. "No word on whether they'll take my name off the registry of the evolved?"
Elisabeth shakes her head on the last question. "No… it could be weeks before we hear, but …. they're likely to just say that whoever took you didn't get your name off the Registry. Access is supposedly pretty restricted." She sighs, pulling out the binder. She takes it to sit in the middle of the room and settles into a cross-legged pose to read it.
Futile then, in other words. Even though that was how they'd gotten her off it. The anger flashes to her face, unhappy at it. "Someone said I should get a lawyer. Get a lawyer and sue them. Get my name off the list, charge them with something, anything" She settles down on the floor with Liz after plucking some bottles of water out of the fridge. A slender finger points to the right number. "You do better yelling than I do"
Elisabeth looks up from the book. "Well…. you tell me who you want yelled at, and I'll yell 'em right into next year, Abby. I need a good target for all this pissed-off I got going on. The lawyer's a good idea, but… whether you can prove they got your name off the Registry's another question." She sighs. "Still…. you could make it a big deal, and make it loud. And maybe…. maybe if enough people get loud, things'll change.
"I only have their word" Abby murmurs. Which was no good. "Would make the news too and I don't want my face plastered everywhere. It's a pointless though. Just, see if you can get me enrolled as soon as possible. The sooner the better. Even if I get to only take some of the classes. All my information's on that sheet, they should already have it. If you gotta use your … job, all the better. I'm going to go lay down Liz. Before I have to get ready for work, tell Brian I'll take a sandwich and some milk"
Nodding at the younger woman and ridiculously grateful for something to do that will actually *help* Abby, Elisabeth gets busy. "Get some rest. By the time you get up, you'll be all set for classes." And by damn, Elisabeth'll make it happen even if it means making Brian come early and Liz going down there in person to throw some serious weight around.
March 18th: Girls Who Wear Glasses |
March 18th: Crudely-Drawn Heart |