little-owl-aurora:

Ro bit her lip as she read his message and wated to break down again. She steeled herself and smiled. “Thank you, James…. I really don’t know any other way to be.” She smiled softly  and then bit her lip ever so slightly. “I’m sure. I’m supposed to get a call from mama tonight. I’ll make sure she knows of my plans and then I’ll be there before you can blink.” She refrained from mentioning Hades, or anyone else outside the two of them for that matter, because in this moment, they were the only two that mattered. They were the only two that existed in this little hiccup of time. “Do you want me to bring you anything when I come?” Was that a weird question? She wasn’t sure but it was out and she couldn’t take it back. “Just name it.”

-wouldn’t want you any other way

He was smiling, now, and the beeping monitor at his bedside informed him that his heart rate was slowing back to normal. He breathed out slowly, letting serenity settle back, controlling himself as in exhaled, inhaled. Exhaled, inhaled. She asked if she could bring him anything, and he paused for a moment, considering the question. He nearly sent her a snarky response but refrained; he knew she was on edge too, and he wanted to keep this little bubble of happiness light and afloat as long as he could, before it had to pop and throw him back into the pain of reality.

-no but thanks. you’ll be enough

He was running all the better ways there would have been to phrase that text when footsteps in the corridor outside caused him to freeze. /he glanced up, slowly, but the footsteps faded into echoes then into silence once more as their maker turned down another route. No-one even walked past his doorway, and he sighed slightly in relief as he turned his attention back to Ro’s disembodied voice.

(Source: notwhollyunheroic)

little-owl-aurora:

Ro grinned slightly and then nodded. “Good.” She looked down again, tapping the screen slightly. “James, nothing my parents could offer right now could be so important as to not be there for you. there were some parties they wanted me to attend, but aside from the belated birthday thing they’re throwing for me right when I get back, I can skip it. None of it’s as important as my friends are anyway.” She smiled. She wasn’t going to risk not seeing him in case so-…. She cut that thought off right there. Nothing bad was going to happen. He’d heal, do therapy… and there’d be trying times but nothing was so bad they couldn’t get through it together. “I’ll make arrangements and be down your way as soon as I possibly can and we’ll see each other before you know it.” There was a long pause. “I don’t mind you being selfish. Not like this, anyway.”

-you’ve a good heart Ro

He sent the text before he realised he’d typed it. Reading it back, it hit him how true it was. She did have a good heart, and she didn’t deserve all the shit she seemed to attract. He hated her sometimes. She hung around with trouble - himself included, a fact he didn’t take as much pleasure in as he would have even to years ago - yet somehow she would always survive, even if it was at cost to her or those around her. They had that in common; though maybe not in the same respect.

He knew she’d drop almost anything to come over to see him, and he tried not to take that for granted, not to take advantage. But, something inside him said, whyever not? She’ll come when you call. And who else have you got?  The fucker had a point. And it was like she said; selfish was okay sometimes. Admittedly selfish was one of his main personality traits, but Ro always seemed to look past all that. He wondered how she actually saw him, what he’d done to deserve her.

-if you’re sure. be good to see you, moneypenny

(Source: notwhollyunheroic)

little-owl-aurora:

She glanced down at the text and exhaled slowly before slowing her speech so she could make sure he at least heard what she had to say. “You’ll always have a reason and  a purpose, James Hook. Nothing you say or do will change my mind on that front, do we have an understanding?” She never talked to him like he was a child, even now when he was probably still pretty out of it on medication, in pain, he was talked to like a grown man. “As for visiting you, I can clear out my schedule during the summer if you’d like. Mama and daddy would understand and you’re right about your mother not being able to stop me. Not very many people could short of tossing me over their shoulder…. not that it’d be difficult….. but point being love, I’m there if you want me to be.” She shifted in bed, heart aching. “And I’ll be around as long as you want me Hook. I promise that always.”

The deep red spots of blood blossoming across the bandages reminded him of the minimalist - or was that expressionist? - paintings he’d studied in art class back in February. Such a pretty colour. He’d look good in red, he thought; he should get something made in that shade. He snapped away long enough to catch her words, shooting back with a half-hearted

-damn right we do

before he shut his eyes again, vision blurring from the brightness of the screen against the dim, grey light he’d been used to. Her words filtered though his haze, and he shook his head - pointless, really, as she couldn’t see him and he only served to aggravate the dressing on his neck once more. His texting was hardly up to his usual, eloquent standard, and he glared at the IV lines as if it was their fault.

-you know i’ll always be selfish but don’t ruin your plans. skip a few state dinners or meetings with royals sure but I don’t blame you if you take better offers than time with me

(Source: notwhollyunheroic)

little-owl-aurora:

 

She glanced down as his messages pinged in, scrubbing a fist into her eye so harshly it hurt. No more tears. It was going to be all right. No more. “Okay. I… I’ve been studying non stop. After my accident, my grades slipped and… and they understood but I’m a lot better than C’s and D’s… I’m gonna get A’s in everything come the end of term, even if I have to study until my head explodes….” She wasn’t sure what else to say but she kept rambling. “And… And I’ve been… I’ve been trying to get out of my room more often… and to…” She swallowed so hard she nearly gagged. “I’ve been trying hard not to worry about you. You’re in wonderful hands, I’m sure… but you’re like… my best friend and how am I NOT supposed to worry…. I want to be there but I can’t… I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want me there either… but I hope you know I’d drop everything in a split second to be with you if I could be because I hate not knowing, not being able to help you and-” She inhaled. “And offer moral support… but you know I love you and believe in you and I really ho-… think it’s all going to end up okay. Not to say it won’t be hard at times but I have faith in you James.  I really do.”

Her voice calmed him further, but the urge to scream was still there. He absently scratched away the bandage on the forearm of his strapped right arm, the one with a bullethole through, nails catching fresh scabs and drawing blood. That caught his attention; for the first time he really snapped into focus about what he was doing. He scowled, not remembering when the cuts had appeared, which was for the best for the moment - though not the long run; he knew the implications. But Ro was there, in voice and in spirit, and that grounded him, giving him a centre to anchor to. He smiled a little as she rambled, drug-slowed mind missing a lot of the words but none of the tone. It felt just like all those evenings they’d shared, curled up with a bottle of wine and stories to tell, just talking late into the nights when they had little else to do. She slowed, then, and he could hear her swallow as her tone changed. He started to text back, composing as she spoke and sending it without edit.

-you can worry if you need. gives me something to fight for. reason. i’m sure my mother couldn’t stop you but you have places you need to be. finish school. this now is support. everything will be okay. promise.

He hoped this would be the one promise he’d manage to keep.

little-owl-aurora:

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. There was silence on the other end of the line, but then she heard him. Her heart retched painfully in her chest and she could feel tears burning up the inside of her throat. “James… I … What was she supposed to say to him? She hadn’t been confronted by the sound of his voice, how the few syllables rasped and choked out of him, almost unintelligible. Her phone buzzed. She slowly tugged it down to see the text message and the dam broke, silent tears dripping down the apples of her cheeks. “I’m here honey… and I promise that I won’t hang up until you want me too, okay?” She bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Do… What do you want me to talk about….? Do you want me to tell you a story or… do you want me to talk at all? I can sit here on the line and…” She inhaled harshly, wanting to hold him close, kiss his face, and she wished to GOD she could promise him things would be okay…. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even begin to think it. She wasn’t sure he’d talk again, at least the right way…. Nothing might be okay. She had been kicked out of the loop. “I love you….”

Eyes still closed, Hook finally brought his breathing under control. He wondered if he was tripping any sort of monitor, whether someone would be bustling in through that dreadful open door to check on him any time soon. If so, his time with Ro was precious. If anyone did spot him using his phone, it’d be taken away for good. He’d set back his healing process enough as it was. He hated that he couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell her all the thing he needed to, couldn’t even tell her that he loved her too. He opened one eye and shot her another text, fingers shaking in the aftermath of the attack - was it even the aftermath? Or was he just holding it back, like a dimmer switch on low? He sure as hell didn’t know - and wished that the words could come from him rather than flash at her impersonally from a screen. 

-thank you. need your voice. might not have long. just talk?

-please

He stopped himself before sending I love you too, and erased the words. He didn’t need to say it. She knew it; at least, he was pretty sure she did. She should. He felt pathetic enough as it was. And angry. He could feel it bubbling inside him, battling with the remnants of the panic for control of his conscious. He felt so useless. And he couldn’t even scream about it.

(Source: notwhollyunheroic)

little-owl-aurora:

 

Ro was bad at focusing on much of anything for longer than two seconds at a time. It wasn’t because she had a problem, it was just… there was always something better she could be doing. At that particular moment in time, she should’ve been packing… but it was more fun to be talking to Hades on the dash. She felt her phone vibrate and she idly moved to pick it up without looking at the screen. She felt around for it for a second before finally found it. She glanced down at the screen and then EVERYTHING came to a stop. James. She hit answer, throat constricting, not knowing what to expect aside from the agitation his few messages. She hoped everything was going okay and that- Her thumb scrubbed across the screen of the iPhone as she brought it to her ear. “James…. Hello darling.”

After seconds that seemed to stretch out into a minute, an hour, an infinity, the line clicked and her voice filtered through to him from halfway around the globe. It had been so long, he’d missed hearing her voice so much, she missed her so much. He didn’t know what had been happening in her life. Anything could be going on, she could be anywhere, with anyone… but she’d answered, and that was his focus. He used her voice to ground him, pulling him back into the present. The panic attack was still cloying at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to overwhelm, but he tried as best he could to take deep breaths through his reconstructed throat and closed his eyes, trying to rebuild his mental walls before he hurt someone - or himself -  again. He knew he couldn’t speak, not properly anyway, but he needed Ro to know he was there; he couldn’t risk losing her now he had the connection. He croaked out an approximation of her name, the word bringing pain but he didn’t mind - the pain helped sharpen everything around him. He could move his left arm and shot a quick text to her without hanging up: I’m here. dont leave.

Every time he woke up he was met with new ways to hurt. Physical, emotional, you name it, he’d suffered through it in the past month - and probably had the medication for it pumping though his system. They’d been weaning him off the majority of the drugs for almost a week, though, and each time he opened his eyes he felt a little clearer, a little more himself, a little more human. He’d moved from being able to see a foot in front of his face to being able to make out the whole room, with its drawn curtains, recently-painted walls, and closed door with the blind shut across it.

When he opened his eyes this evening, however, something seemed different. He felt fuzzy, dull, like he had when he was being medicated nine years ago. The familiar sensation was not at all pleasant, but, he realised, it was just that - familiar. Turning his head to the side, his gaze settled on the tray resting on his bedside table, and the IV bags that it contained. He wondered why they’d just been left there - that must be unwise, maybe dangerous. He was fucking unstable, right? He could read the names of the cocktail being dripped into him, recognizing about half of them, and yep, there they were - chemicals that had shadowed him and policed his mind for years after his father died. 

The focus pulled on his vision, and he caught sight of the door, knowing immediately that something was off. Some part of him registered that it had been left open, presumably by someone sorting out his IVs, but most of him was distracted by what he could see through it. He could see right along the corridor from his position, and his breath hitched, throat constricting and heart throwing itself off-beat. It wasn’t just any corridor. He’d been here before. No-one had told him he was here now. He’d been recovering, but all that came crashing down with one trigger.  One fucking image.  And he was sent right back.  Full visual, multisensory flashback complete with terrorizing, paralysing fear and nothingness, throwing him backwards into that infinite, inescapable hell.  He felt himself dissociating as the monster clawed at him from the darkness of his mind. He screwed his eyes shut as the medication burnt out of his veins, the dam holding back the panic creaking to breaking point. He cast about, spotting his phone resting on the bedside table. Someone had plugged it in, thank god, so it shouldn’t be dead. He reached for it with his good arm, not noticing the bandages covering his forearm - souvenirs from the evening he had been told where he was - and hit the first speed-dial as he crashed back onto the pillow, jarring the dressings on his neck as he did so.

Ring, ring. Calling Moneypenny, the screen informed him.