#From Dawn to Setting Sun|Garrett and Beth

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused   {{ xx }}

Beth had been taken by surprise when the invitation had come amongst other bits of mail that she’d allowed to pile up until she could spare a moment for them. Most of it was junk, completely wasteful and ruinous to the planet and they went into the recycling bin almost immediately. Her personal bills were handled through her financial manager, and those that were shared responsibilities... well, she was certain that Zarek had long ago handled them in the most expedient of ways. She’d convinced herself twelve times over to ignore the hand-written bit of card-stock. A hundred excuses. Finally in the face of encouragement not to, she went. And then every reason comes flooding back even before she’s taken more than a few steps into the room.

He stands out amongst everyone else, some kind of glow or pull that is inexplicable and her stomach feels like it’s on a downward slope of a roller-coaster. And he doesn’t seem happy at all to see her there. So she avoids him for most of the gala. Finds groups of people to act as anemone to camouflage her little clown-fish self. And that lasts well into the evening, until she decides she can have a single glass of champagne. And then worlds collide.

And it feels like her whole chest is a sucking wound because she can’t breathe.  Then the words come tumbling out to try to make room. But even then it hurts. She doesn’t ask Tabby about him, she doesn’t ask Andy either. She can’t let herself think about him at all. And what he says only deepens that ache. Fills her eyes until she’s forced to blink them away.

“I...uh.”

Not even two full words before she’s tripping over her tongue.

“As do I. And I’ve missed you. But... After everything, it...it didn’t seem like a good idea to see you again. And I can’t say that I think it’s any different now.”

Because a part of her still loves Garrett. And for Beth, sometimes it’s hard to say exactly how or why, to explain it as the pure thing it is without direction or conditions. And that means that the feeling will not leave, will not diminish over time. 

But now there’s a shadow over it, too. And she doesn’t know how to fix it or make it go away. The only thing she can do is ignore everything, change the subject.

“Uhm. Did...did you ever see your doctor?”   

[twdmusicboxmystery]

FTWD 4x16: Analysis

So, who watched the finale of FTWD? I really liked it, even though it ended differently than I thought it would. But I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s get to all the awesome parallels and symbols.

***As always, spoilers abound for FTWD 4x16. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

So, we had Al escape the hospital at the beginning. I first want to say that it struck me as a possible parallel to how Madison survived. All was surrounded by a horde of walkers, coming at her from all sides, and she just kept looking around until she found a means of escape. In this case, a gated alley. I was just thinking that there were tons of chairs, doors, passages, and steps in that stadium, so something very similar could have happened with Madison.

Beyond that, Al left the HOSPITAL in a POLICE CRUISER. Really? Once again, the parallels are so close, it’s ridiculous. Remember that Emily was seen driving a police cruiser (one of the Grady cop cars) out of the hospital. That’s part of the footage they shot in S5 that we’ve never seen. So we’re relative sure that when she leaves Grady for good, it will be in a police car. Now we have Al doing the same here. I’ll leave analysis of the squad car’s license plate for @wdway, who’s the master at that.

In the opening credits, we see a lot of water and what I thought was a hospital in the background. By the end of the episode, we realize it’s not the hospital. It’s the denim factory where they’re setting up shop.

The group finds Al—oh, she’d passed out from being hit in the head, btw—and are deciding to get on the road to Virginia the next day. 

When Al woke up, they even did a close up shot of her eyes fluttering open, just like they did with Beth at Grady. 

They actually use the phrase, “we hit the road at dawn.” (New Dawn Theory).

Morgan decides he wants to go find Martha and try to save her. He promises he’ll meet them at Alexandria, but John says they’ll wait for him at the truck stop, and Morgan says he’ll be there. I made note of these statements because they’re dialogue foreshadows. Morgan promised he would get back to the truck stop…and he did. Dialogue foreshadow fulfilled. Because of that, it’s also very important that they first talked about meeting in Alexandria. They could have just left that bit out and decided to meet at the truck stop, you know? I’ll come back to that.

I loved when John said to June, “It doesn’t take a whole day to recognize sunshine.” Not only was it sweet and romantic, the sun is definitely a Bethyl theme. They said on TTD that Garrett Dillihunt actually wrote/improvised the line. When they said that, the entire audience “awwwwed.”

Then comes the next major round of parallels. He finds Jim in the back seat of the police cruiser. 

Think about that. Jim is a dude who died back at the hospital, but of course reanimated as a walker. Then Morgan finds him in the back of a Grady-like police car. That’s pretty much what I’ve ALWAYS thought happened with Beth: that Morgan found her and took her back to Grady. To extend the metaphor, he finds an injured Martha and takes her (or starts to) take her to where she can get medical treatment.

Then we have the antifreeze stuff at the truck stop. This was GREAT! I still haven’t done a coolant post, though I reblogged @frangipanilove’s post that talks about it.

So the antifreeze first caught my eye. Then we find out that Martha put antifreeze in the water, poisoning them. (I talked a little about the poisoned water theme HERE.) And THEN it turns out that the antidote for the antifreeze poisoning is ethanol, or just an alcoholic beverage. Guys, this is a perfect example of the Daryl = Fire, Beth = Water theme. The coolant represents water, and the thing that levels out its negative affects is alcohol. Which burns. Which Beth and Daryl used to burn the moonshine shack. I love it!

Martha purposely gets herself bitten so that Morgan can’t save her. Yeah, that woman is crazy. He ends up handcuffing her to the car so that when she turns, she can’t go off and bite people. That caught my eye at first because cuffing her by one hand is a parallel to Merle in S1 on the rooftop, as well as to the empty handcuff Daryl found in S8.

Then, when Morgan goes back after rescuing the others, he finds that her arm has ripped off. Can we all say Merle? Okay, he purposely cut his arm off because he was trying to stay alive, where she died and her arm got ripped off because she was a walker, but still. The parallel is there.

We see Morgan on a bridge briefly. He gets Jim’s Augie’s Ale truck and saves the day. I thought that was interesting because Jim saved them twice. Even though he died, and wasn’t on the show long, he had a huge impact on the plot.

Near the end, Luciana says, “I get it.” Beth line.

We also saw Morgan go into the bathroom to wash Martha’s words off his forehead. They talked on TTD about how it was symbolic of him finally becoming “unstuck” from his way of thinking. He’s finally free of his psychological barriers and can move forward in a positive way. 

I think that works well with the bathroom/toilet paper theory because the bathroom stuff often has to do with escaping prisons. This was just a psychological, rather than physical prison.

Martha is buried. Once again, everyone gets a burial except Beth.

Morgan did find his way back to people, so as I talked about before, that dialogue foreshadow (which came from Rick, btw) came true.

In terms of the plot, they didn’t head to VA at the end. Rather, they decide to stay and set up shop where they are. 

Now, that does explain the fact that they’ve already green-lighted a 5th season. And I almost seems like maybe Morgan won’t go back to Alexandria, but I think he will. Eventually. Remember what I said earlier about how they talked about meeting in Alexandria. I think that was a foreshadow and it just may take a few seasons to actually happen. I did enjoy this episode, though. It ended on a hopeful not.

TTD was kind of interesting. 

I don’t have a lot to say in terms of the episode of specifically TD stuff, but there were still some interesting things.

First, Gimple clarified his job. He said a lot of people think he lost his job, and that’s definitely true (that people think that, I mean). I can’t tell you how many people were happy he was “fired” and claimed AMC got rid of him because he killed off Carl, lol. It’s an absurd claim anyway, but they simply wouldn’t listen to reason. So I’m glad Gimple clarified that he actually has been promoted. He works on both shows and also other aspects of the TWD universe.

Plus, he teased that something else big is coming soon. Hmm.

The only other thing I found interesting was that he was talking about how they (the writers) are purposely vague when they’re on TTD and when they give interviews and such. He made the joke that he’d just heard the FTWD show runner be very vague and was so proud of him, lol. (Btw, the thing he was vague about was whether or not we’ll see more of Al’s interview tapes, so obviously we will.) But the point is that he admitted they have to be as vague as possible and they strive to do that so they aren’t giving anything away, even though they know absolutely everything that’s coming.

Just saying. ;D

I think that’s all I have. Anyone see anything I missed? Can’t wait for the TWD premiere next week!  

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused {before}

At the tilt of his head, the tip of her nose grazes the soft spot just behind his chin point, the soft shadow of stubble there. She plucks at his arm, wraps it around her waist to let it rest heavy there. She could draw the covers up around them but is too pleased with the spot she’s winnowed out for herself, not unlike a cat snoozing in a shaft of sunlight. Maybe it was the wine, or the soft music playing in the background, the company keeping her, or perhaps its all of the above.  She delights over his answers, of course, but there’s more too them, and she can’t help but to pry into the details that he keeps to himself.  “The living room. This one? Right here? Ooooh. Scandalous. Who with? Someone I know? Tabby mebbe?” A brow rises though at the rest. “Nine? Wow. Now I feel like a very very old maid. Positively ancient. Did you start it, or was it some lil girl who had a huge crush on ya? Bet you’re used t’ that.” She doesn’t bring up the hot tub or his lack of clothing in it, that almost too closely skirts around information she shouldn’t really have. “Oh yes, you’re doing wonders for academic research. But I just need more details.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused {{xx}}

The answers come rapid fire, if a little drawled and the yawn tells her he’s tired. That she should probably have the grace to let him go to bed, even if she’s reluctant to give up his warmth, the feel of him behind and around her. Slowly she peels herself off him as she considers his answers. And all of the follow up questions that come with that. A tiny part of her wonders if he’s commando right now and maybe a bit of colour splashes across her cheeks. She gets as far as the opposite side of the couch, where there’s a pillow and bedding because Garret was generous enough not wanting her to try driving back to the apartment so late.

The glance she offered him would have condemned lesser men, it’s half lidded and smokey and the kind of shyness that speaks of a innate innocence despite the topic.

“No, not for science. It’s all....personal. But...uh...I guess I should let you go to bed.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused {{xx}}

“Well, yeah, I mean. Change the fact that you wouldn’t hurt any more. That you wouldn’t get that look on your face every time you take your shirt off, maybe. But I was just more curious, how you would see yourself. Maybe. I...I dunno.” And she really doesn’t. She just knows how much he hates not being able to do the things he loves, and how it all looks, and people’s reactions to it. She knows that if she could no longer surf, if she could no longer practice medicine the way she does, she would be a complete mess, so completely lost she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. So every ounce of her empathises with Garrett, and loves the man he is even after literally coming through the fire. Most people she knows aren’t so strong, so generous. She shifts behind him and now her thumbs are working at the knots of tension along the back of his neck. There’s something soothing to her about the steady pressure and the motions, the feel of skin on skin that is just as therapeutic for patient as it is for practitioner. At least she hopes so; Garrett hasn’t complained yet.

She can’t help but arch a brow when he brings up the surgeon. She hadn’t heard about this before, though she can absolutely understand why he might not want to mention it yet. The superstition of ‘just in case’. But at the same time... the bottom falls out of her stomach. A surgeon, no matter how gifted, could potentially do so much more damage than they realise. The potential risks of complication is abjectly terrifying to her.

“Uhm,” so much fear in one small partial sound. “I. I mean that’s wonderful and all...”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused

She’s in his apartment when he finally gets home.  Lounged on his couch in her pyjamas and eating what looks like a bowl of yogurt and granola cereal, with sea-turtle slippers peeking over the arm of the couch. There is no explanation why this should be or why she happened to be the tiniest breaking and entering expert in the history of ever.

“You’re mission, Mistah Marine, an’ ya really got no choice... is t’ A: come netflick an’ chill wi’ me, or B: put on one ya not so fancy suit an’ go out...or C: let’s ditch it all an’ drive upstate until we nearly run out of gas an’ den make a go of wha’ever small village we find closest by.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

G-man and Beth

A Soundtrack | Accepting { @tabbyrp, who also asked for this}

opening credits: Space Oddity | Smashing Pumpkins meeting for the first time: Pinch Me | Bare Naked Ladies hey, i kinda like you: There She Goes | Six Pence None The Richer i’m going to kiss you now: Us | James Bay falling in love: The Way That I Love You | Passenger your place or mine: Dreams | The Cranberries naked in bed: I Wasn’t Expecting That | Jamie Lawson first fight: Pieces | Rob Thomas maybe we should take a break: With or Without You | U2 i want you back: This Year’s Love | David Grey will you marry me:  Stand By Me | Skylar Grey we’re getting older: Nothing’s Real But Love | Rebecca Ferguson if you die i’ll go with you: Nobody Knows | The Lumineers end credits:  Drops of Jupiter | Train

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused {xx}

“Now, don’t get me wrong, nevah gonna say one bad word about’ Hawai’ian Jesus, but... I dunno. Jason is hella awesome, an’ I’m so happy to see a Poly superhero but...” She glances astray because....the joke..was lost on him. “Was uh...kinda a joke about... ya know. Your....”

She blushes and waves her hand, half laughing at herself in embarrassment.  “Ya know? Nevah mind.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

✘ - What are three things you would like to instill into Styxx? What is one thing you hope that he gets from his father?

X Marks The Spot || Accepting {{9 of 10 remaining}} There’s nothing that Beth is so enchanted by these days as when her son is asleep in her arms. One slender arm is wrapped around him, the other hand laying gently over his hip, holding him securely as she ponders Garrett’s question. Things she hasn’t thought about in more than an abstract way, but that seem very important in the moment. She smiles down fondly at the boy and moves ever so carefully to stroke the mess of black curls covering his scalp. Darker than her own, almost the same shade as his father’s, soft. It’s too early to tell how many physical features he’s inherited from which parent, though in the near year since he’d been born, his eyes haven’t changed colour, so deep they almost match Zarek’s but not quite.

She glances up and smiles slowly, speaking in that same soft tone she’s always had, though it’s a touch misty, thickened by emotion. “Everyone says they want their children to be successful, and happy, but those one of those usually comes at the expense of the other. So I guess my hope is to be able to give him a sense of honour. Loyalty. But most of all...hope. I would also want him to know that no matter what happens, what choices he makes, where his life takes him, he will always have love and support from us. That he can come home if he needs to, that we will always be there for him.”

And that is maybe truer than Garrett can ever know. Beth also doesn’t know if he’s destined to Awaken like her, or if he’ll carry his father’s legacy of the divine, or maybe some strange combination of both as yet unseen.  As for what Styxx could inherit from Zarek, the question is hard. There are so very many things that Beth admires about her husband both physically and otherwise and there’s also very many things that she hopes gets tempered in their son. She takes a moment to shift the sleeping baby a little for both their comfort, and one little hand curls around a stray lock of her hair, forming a tiny fist which she then arches her neck to bend down and kiss.

When she looks up, she bites the inside corner of her lip, a thing she’s never grown out of. Eventually though that turns into a smile, before her teeth let go. “His resilience. My husband’s strength lies in so many places, not all of which are in his arms or hands. He has survived so many ups and downs in his life, and continues to be able to carry on despite the set backs and the challenges,” and the terrible things his family seems intent on making him suffer. His grandfather’s contempt, his father’s murderous jealousy, his...

“And even though those things have sometimes hardened him to the gentle things of the world, he strives to overcome them. And if I wanted Styxx to have anything, it would be that. The ability to always get back up from whatever fall he’s taken, and keep going.” This has become perhaps a bit too serious and so she giggles a little. “Of course any other of his father’s charms wouldn’t hurt either. I mean. This kid is going to leave an ocean of broken hearts in his wake. or his Uncle’s too.” She fixes Garrett with a pointed look. “Speaking of, Uncle, do you have any plans on teaching him something specific?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused

{Text: Pretty} This is my face. I hope you remember it. And how I am looking at you right now.

{Text: Pretty} ~insert 14745.jpg~

{Text: Pretty} Why, you ask? {Text: Pretty} because we can’t be friends any more. {Text: Pretty} “Dear Garrett, I am a 22 year old COED at NYU. I am studying for a dual MBA/MFA. I’m from California and I’m blonde. My measurements are 36-25-36 and I used to be a gymnast.”  {Text: Pretty} That is all I am comfortable typing because I can’t say the rest outloud to Z when we’re alone, much less put it in print.  {Text: Pretty} Plus she included:

{Text: Pretty} ~insert 14746.jpg~ I think they are supposed to be underwear. But not sure...how.

{Text: Pretty} Why do I have an entire box from the post office filled with things like this?!

[brooklynislandgirl]

Ship meme: Beth and G.

All Hands || Accepting

who wakes up first in the morningShe wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing. The faintest whiff of cologne competes with the sound of freshly pressed linen. A fraction of a moment carved out of the heart of time that lingers between the still warm hands of sleep clinging to her skin and the taste of wine still lingering on her lips from the night before. This moment is weightless and without thought. It’s the one and only quiet moment of peace before reality comes crashing through. And part of her feels sad because she’s absolutely sure Garrett doesn’t have them.She senses his presence before she even opens her eyes, and he trails his fingers through her hair. The grin that comes in the wake of the gesture assures him that he hadn’t awakened her. “I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. Sasha or Mike will bring it up when it gets here. I’ve got meetings straight through til noon, an appointment with my PT, and I’m going to check on one of the guys that’s been missing meetings. Should be back before five, if your still here. We can grab dinner.  If not, just lock up, okay?”She makes an unintelligible sound.“Yeah, right back at you, Beth.”

who’s the first to fall asleep at nightDinner was casual, and uncharacteristic. Pizza for him and a large Greek salad for her because he doesn’t think one slice with nothing but cheese is good or healthy for her. She can stand to put a little meat on her bones, and he half wonders if maybe her husband doesn’t worry the way he does that he’ll blink and she’ll wither away. Of course she only laughs and pushes at his shoulder and he grins around the slice he’s biting at. Eventually he starts stealing things from her bowl; a tomato here. A chunk of feta there. A sliver of red onion to go with the sausage and pepperoni. Doesn’t say a word when she snags a piece of the next slice, examining the thin red circle of meat like it belonged in one of her petri dishes.It isn’t til hours later, well after they’ve finished and watch an old black and white movie on television that he’s laying on his side, head in her lap, small fingers carding through his hair that he asks.“When did you start hating meat?”She’s quiet for a long time. And he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.“One time, the Admiral was having a dinner party. Very formal kind of affair and I was sitting there at the table in a little white dress, blue ribbon around the waist, tights, white patent leather shoes, the whole works. We were served something that was breaded and covered in sauce and cheese and I didn’t know what it was. My brother told me it was veal. I still didn’t know what it was. I was three bits in and feeling a little queasy and then he leaned over and explained what veal was. I asked the Admiral if I could be excused and he refused. Ended up getting sick at the table. Kinda was put off meat from that moment on.”Garrett manages to fall asleep with the image of a very much smaller Beth in that dress stuck in his head and misses the rest of her story. And maybe that’s for the best really.

what they playfully tease each other over“Oh, big scary Marine! Getting his backside kicked by a boy only half his size. C’mon. You can do better!”She’s talking trash but she’s keeping a careful eye on him. The wrong move and...and she doesn’t want to think about it. There’s sweat darkening the grey muscle shirt as he bounces the ball, grips it between his fingertips and goes to fake the kid out. Santos falls for it and watches the ball sail upward in an arc, and through the hoop, net swishing. “Cheater!” the kid smirks and trots back.“Not cheating, you just weren’t paying attention. Just because your opponent is bigger than you doesn’t mean you can’t outpace him if you watch carefully. Isn’t that right, Beth?”She glances up from her knitting needles in time to catch a dark and sultry look. Suddenly he’s not talking about basketball any more. The blush and speechlessness give him his answer.Thankfully, the teenager misses the subtext.

what they do when the other’s having a bad dayShe can see it in his face before he even fully makes it in through her clinic doors and both jaw and stomach tighten. She doesn’t smell infection from the drainage hole she’s left open but she still doesn’t like it. Without a word she takes him by the hand and leads him back into one of the exam wounds.“You came...all the way down here, just to have me look at this?”“I trust you.”“Garrett-”“What? I needed to get out of the city for a while. My back’s been killing me, this-”“Looks infected.”“That too. And I just...Look, if you don’t want to treat it, I’m sure I can find another doc in town, but I thought it might be nice to see you, check in on my nephew. Maybe stay for Mardi Gras.”They stand maybe too close, one looking down and the other looking up. It’s more than wounds old and newer, that much she can see on his face. It the lines around his mouth, the bags under his eyes. She puts a hand on his hip, walks him toward the exam table. As she pulls on her gloves and he takes his shirt off. “So, what exactly happened?” she asks, tenderly probing the front of his shoulder.“Charlotte came by the office....”

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments“I waited!”“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little...hard? I mean it’s not like I’m not calling now.”“I don’t care! YOU promised, G. YOU PROMISED.”He doesn’t know how such a small person can be so loud but he holds the cell away from his ear but she’s on a tear. He can only assume that her husband is out of the house or has gone deaf by now, and all it’s really doing is giving Garrett a headache. He waits until he can’t hear her any more and sighs. “I said I was sorry, it just slipped my mind. And I figured you’d understand.”Yep, understood enough to have hung up on his call. A thumb and forefinger come up to the bridge of his nose and pinch it tightly. Four breaths later, he’s calling his new PA. He’ll scour the City for lei flower...which he learned was also called plumeria. Maybe wax flower, maybe hibiscus. Orchids too, hot house grown if need be. Pay to have them shipped out overnight. G doesn’t often express himself in words, but he knows how to apologise through flowers.It’ll be weeks before she has the courtesy to apologise for herself. He doesn’t hold his breath, waiting.

which one’s more ticklish“...I can explain.”One hand is down on the ground beside Beth’s head. The other is slowing having assaulted the no-man’s-land between the bottom of her ribs and the flare of her hip. Her legs are scissored around the tops of his thighs. Their hair is a mess. There’s sweat gathered along his spine and in the hollow of her chest. Both his dark eyes and Beth’s stare up out of red faces as Riley slowly begins to fold his arms across his chest, his mouth twisted into a murderous grimace.“I’m waiting.”There’s a moment where Beth throws him under the bus and says nothing.“She’s....ticklish.”Riley shakes his head and starts to saunter toward the hot mess on Garrett’s floor.

their favourite rainy day activitiesGarrett’s watching a documentary that she is only half aware of, slouched on his end of the couch. A cup of coffee within reach, a little too Irish for her taste but it’s warm and chases feelings away. Her feet are in his lap because the cradle of his thighs are warm, and it’s touching without having to be any closer and she’s drowsily knitting something who’s pattern isn’t quite clear yet.It’s only a moment later that her hands still and her eyes widen and she becomes transfixed on the screen; not anything that was said because most of what they are saying is too fast and drownt out. No, it’s the image of the blue-painted plane, with beautiful wings.“Wha’...is...dat?” The whisper is full of wonder and she forgets English to a point.Garrett half smiles and glances over at her even if she can’t see him at all. “The F4U Corsair. One of the best Marine fighter planes in its day. Mostly used in the Pacific Theatre in and around the Solomons during World War Two. Beautiful isn’t she? This is about the VMF-214 unit. A.k.a the Black Sheep Squadron. Their commander, Greg Boyington used to choose the worst repaired Corsair so that his men wouldn’t have to chance it.”Garrett misses entirely the look she gives him.

how they surprise each otherThe ambushes become less tactical. Ever since the day she had introduced him to Tabby, she doesn’t jump him any more. Doesn’t really even intrude on his day to day affairs the way she used to. Instead, she has a new bottle of wine couriered over. Or a book she thinks he’ll find interesting. Emails him mp3s of some new Jazz band she found in the Quarter, or Indie sensation out of the Bronx.Month by month, she gets statements about how the group Garrett and Chester head up contributes to the clinic’s taxes and up-keep. Between them and Zarek, she’s finally operating in the black. Able to branch out a little, offer different services to the growing community.But the biggest surprise was when she was shutting down her second clinic, the one here at home, having assured Z she could make it back to the cabin without worrying about the rain. She might be cut off from one of her Spheres, but she still had complete command of the others.She went room by room in the old house, turning off lights and checking windows. She was in the foyer gathering up her scarf when the glass of the door took on a human shaped shadow as the lightning struck. She started to open it, a sweet smile on her face. “I told you, Kealoha, I could-oh. G. What...what are you doing here?”“I wanted coffee.”“In...N’orleans?”“Yeah. I hear they make it with chicory.”

their most sickening shows of public affectionHe slants a look over her shoulder that says this is not a good idea. It says he’s not sure he’s willing or ready for it.She grins. It’s just a tango. And just because her husband is watching, doesn’t really mean Garrett’s actually going to loose a limb.It’s for a good cause, after all.And while the midnight gaze behind her might put the willies in his water, it makes her feel like the most feminine and delicately priceless thing in the room.

[brooklynislandgirl]

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say? // Anna has to ask, because she *thinks* she knows who that would be...

Things you shouldn’t Ask but Will Anyway || Accepting

Oh no.No.No.No, no, no, no, no.N.............O.

Oh God. Oh. God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

The broad back with its host of scars isn’t the tawny one she expected when she turned over and pressed her face into the centre of. It lacked that specific feel of both old markings and the faint tingle of glamour she’d come to recognise. The warmth of skin against the tip of her nose, ghostly just beyond the press of her lips did not have the same scent it should have, the palpable beat of the heart just beyond bone failed to match the rhythm of her own. Her hand halted halfway across the ridge of rib and muscle when she didn’t instinctively know its well travelled paths.

The tides of sleep-fog began to recede the moment she realised the heat and comfort she wanted to sink into did absolutely not belong to Zarek. Not even close. And wasn’t her brother, either, possibly the only acceptable alternative. And the only thing she can do now is try to piece together how the heck this had happened because the night before is a shadow on the periphery of her memory, one that if she tries to look at, just disappears.

Scooting away slowly, she sat up and immediately pressed the sheets to her chest because there was nothing else for decency. And the hysteria began to rise, dragging with it an army of both nausea that may or may not have had anything to do with her condition, and a spike of adrenaline that sent heart and head pounding like war-drums.

“Pretty...I....you know I love you like I love the sea....but if first words out ya mouth aren’t we’re dead an’ dis a very messed up idea of a’ afterlife...”

She didn’t know how to finish the threat which was more like a plea. “And where da hella’m’clothes?”

                                                    ~*~

Beth looks at her friend and smiles. “Wouldn’ happen. Garrett would t’row hisself on a fragmentation grenade firs’. Now bot’ of us fallin’ asleep in fronna da television or mebbe in his hot tub, dat a totally differen’ story. Mo’beddah important, why would ya ask?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused {xx}

“Ho, no, how could you? Garrett...you’re breaking my heart. The Mets? Tsk-tsk.” Okay, so maybe the tongue-clicking was a little over-dramatic, but there were very few things as polarising as favourite teams. Yankees vs the Mets. The Jets or the Giants. Life and death. But she couldn’t help smiling as she continued tossing the salad she’d made for dinner. She held the phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Seriously though, that’s great. I can’t really remember the last time I even went. Can you?” She was sure it had been with Andy and Sam and Jay, but just not when. She was sure Santos would love it, the smell of the stadium, the warm late summer air.  “Did’ja have a good day?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@multi-mused

After leaving the clubhouse, Beth’s anger still remained, that tension limning every bone in her body, and her fingers clutched the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip. Then there was traffic and what was anger turned brittle, serrated at the edges. Each light was part of a text sent and the last light, she pulled over and sighed. She couldn’t shake what she was feeling. She couldn’t drive when she wanted the entire city to disappear or crumple into piles of collapsed bones.

{Text: Pretty} Probably in a meeting, or saving the free world, one soldier and his family at a time. {Text: Pretty} Or maybe you finally got lucky, which I mean good on ya.

{Text: Pretty} Failed to make friends with 4/5ths of a biker club. Almost got in fight.  {Text: Pretty} Can’t breath for how mad I feel. {Text: Pretty} Slack off this weekend. Meet me in Memphis?

[brooklynislandgirl]

All the BROTP questions for G and Beth,

Life Or Death || Accepting

1. Who slowly eases into the pool while complaining about the temperature of the water and who takes a full-force no regrets flying cannonball into the water

It’s been a rough day. What began as numbness turns into pins and needles and it threatens to overwhelm him because Garrett’s been pushing things, like he always does. The marine seems intent on wringing every last ounce of life while he still can. She admires him for that and aches because she can’t fix him, not the way she wants to. So as he eases himself into the water a thousand times colder than what she promised ~though it will still do wonders for his back~ she adds a little extra to it. And short, compact as she is, she takes a running jump, coiling her limbs together until she’s almost perfectly round. Splashing him with as much water and wave as she can create. And if there’s a little extra magick to the situation, well…no one can call her on it.

What she doesn’t expect is that Garrett doesn’t intend to let her have all the fun and she never saw his hand snake out toward her ankle as she was aiming for the surface.

2. Who can easily comfort the other when they’re sick and who sprays everything down with Lysol and wears an antimicrobial mask and pats the former with a broom to comfort them when they get sick?

The night Garrett was shot saving Santos still haunts her dreams. She can still feel his blood on her hands, she can still smell the combination of soap, sweat and cordite on his skin. She’s never felt so helpless in her entire life, unable to do anything more than try to stop the wounds with what to her is almost…primitive tools. Stitches and wound packing, forceps and eventually her own fingers because she couldn’t get a grip. And once he was home, the fear that infection would set in…it all just turned her stomach.

So she slips out of bed quietly, knowing Z isn’t sleeping but he doesn’t stop her either. It’s not often that she still tosses and turns when he’s there to hold back all the darkness. And though he wasn’t letting her come to New York by herself any more, he’s still careful about letting her go about what she wants.

And what she wants at this moment is to step out onto the fire escape. It’s two in the morning and she hesitates to call. Texts instead. “Hey, Pretty. U awake?”He almost immediately texts back. “You should be sleeping. Baby needs you to rest.”Back and forth they go. He tells her he’s fine. She points out if it was the truth, he’d be asleep and not texting her. He counters with a joke that he’ll sleep when he’s dead. She doesn’t answer for a long time. He’s the one that calls.“If it will make you feel better, we can have lunch or something later, during real people hours and you can check for yourself that I’m fine, Beth.” He doesn’t even bother with hello.“Okay.”“Now, are you going to go back to bed or am I going to have to risk life and limb coming over and putting you there? From the hall somehow. I know you brought your husband this time. Not how I really want to meet him but I will, if I have to.”

“Night, Pretty.”“Night, B.”

3. Who’s the amazing cook and who almost burns the house down trying to microwave a pop tart.

“Chinese?”“Italian.”“Ooh, we could do French?”“Have you eaten in France?”“No?”“Cuban?”

They’ve been at this for hours. Finally Santos, held hostage by their conversation, rolls his eyes and rummages around Garrett’s fridge. Ends up making black beans and rice and some kind of breakfast taco and resolves to talk to Garrett about who stocks his fridge. 

4. Who immediately goes for the can of Raid when they see a bug and who picks it up like “no wait don’t kill it I wanna keep it”

“It’s a spider, Beth. There’s a million of them and I don’t want it li-”“So help me, Pretty, you spray it an’ I’ma take dat can an’ spray you!”“You can try, but first you’d have to be able to reach it.” He holds the can above his head.“Don’ think I won’t kick you in the shin an’ bring you down.”

“We aren’t children Be-OW! WE DON’T BITE PEOPLE!”“Mebbe you don’t…”

5. Who likes to lean over railings to get a better view and who freaks out and tries to pull the former back away from the rail screaming about how they might fall?

His hot tub is on the balcony and there’s so many floors between the ground and the rail. He leans against it like he doesn’t have a care in the world and sometimes stares up at the sky. He misses flying as much as her brother does, in different ways. He lives for the piloting, Andy for the jumps. And Beth can’t understand them. The sky is a terrible thing. Wide open and without boundaries. Nothing to hold on to. And maybe some people were born with the memory of wings; she’s not one of them. Just the idea of it makes her queasy.

So she stands in the doorway, fingers gripped so tight they almost leave impressions in the metal.

“Dinner’s getting cold.”

6. Who acts like they’re brave and fearless but actually gets terrified 15 minutes into a horror movie and who is usually the huge scaredy cat but isn’t fazed at all by most horror movies

Garrett laughs at the plot and shakes his head. Beth creeps subconciously toward the screen as soon as the blood flows, and murmurs about how that would never work. He’s survived worse, and her life is nothing short of something that would be directed and written by Guillermo Del Toro. But they both have their breaking points. He isn’t a fan of the Langoliers, especially when the pilot loses control of the plane’s instrument panel, and she won’t even be in the apartment while the Exorcist is on.They don’t talk about their limits, and instead turn on some more lights and find something else to do.

7. Who constantly criticizes the latter’s wardrobe and who dresses even more outrageously to further annoy the former

“Don’t you think that your husband would want you to wear something with…a little more fabric?”“Who do you think bought it for me?”

Garrett’s hand trails up the bare skin of her back and looks into the mirror. They do look stunning next to each other. His eyes never stray to the more revealing parts of the dress.

“I suppose we should get going then. You know how they frown if you’re late to the silent auction.”“Well, I do have one more thing to try on…”

He’s seen string bikinis that were more modest than the peach coloured gown. “Yeah, no. I think the dark blue suits you.”“You’re no fun.”“On the contrary, I like breathing and if Zarek doesn’t raise an eyebrow, Andy certainly will.”

8. Who likes total darkness when they sleep and who needs a night light

Garrett knew she didn’t sleep much. He knew that she didn’t like the dark. It wasn’t until they’d gone to California; him for business, her to visit her friend, that he realised just how bad it was. Laying in the dark, letting it wash over him, he was almost asleep when he heard it. A shuddering gasp of sound that reminded him of oxygen deprivation, followed by the hard breath panted though an open mouth. Little sharp vocalisations that were like half-quiet yips from a small dog. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a tee-shirt to pull on, and he padded toward the living room of the suit, where she’d made camp on the couch. The heel of his palm pressed into his eyes as he rubbed sleep from them. A fumbling for the lights.She was curled up on her side but something was wrong. Her entire body was rigid. The breaths shallow and too fast, her eyes glossy and fixed to some point in space, unseeing. She didn’t so much as blink. And God, that’s unnerving.“Hey, hey. Shhh.” He edged a hip onto the couch and gently rested a hand on her shoulder, to little avail. The minutes dragged on into what seemed like eternity. He rubs small circles on her back, murmurs small nothings to try and gentle the paralysis as best he can. But it’s terrifying to witness, he can only imagine what it is to experience it. Eventually she comes to herself and he gets up to grab her water. He wonders if it will be like that when and if his own back gives but doesn’t ask her, can’t. Not with how worn and terrified she looks afterwards.When he manages to go back to bed at her insistence, he leaves the light on.

9. Who loves kids and who scowls at the mere sight of them

It’s not exactly a scowl as it is contemplation on the deepest levels. He first really noticed it when she was treating Santos. The the way she smiled at random babies on the street. Or how she held them in the N-ICU. Her jog around Central Park often took her by story-land and the playgrounds. But she didn’t have any of her own. And she changed the subject abruptly when he’d asked about that.The story came later, during a quiet group session. He and Riley tended to linger after the other veterans returned to the bits of their lives they were holding together. Usually a drink was shared, maybe two, and they’d talk more personally, as friends are wont to do.

“Your sister’s really good with kids.”“She is.”“I’m surprised she doesn’t have any of her own. The nursing job must consume a lot of her-”“It’s not the job,” Riley says softly. Darkly. “Doctors have known since she was real small that there was only a one in a million chance, and she’s just this side of sterile. Really wrecked her, you know?”

It made sense. Not that Garrett himself had children, nor did he plan on it, not now or any time soon.

And the next time Beth saw him, it was her turn to watch. The way he was with Santos, some day, he was going to make an excellent dad.

10. Who plays games competitively and sucks at them and who plays games casually and is actually really heckin good

As quiet as she is, as timid as she acts ~afraid to upset the natural order of the universe~ Beth is weirdly competitive, even if she doesn’t know or understand all the rules as you tell them to her. She gets this little gleam in her eye and dives right into whatever the game is. The opposite of Garret, who himself is calm and calculating. She kills at Trivia and the obscure bits of knowledge she possesses is borderline supernatural. She’s great at cards, though he suspects she counts them. He just can’t prove it. Pool is another thing, with her eye for angles and the geometry on the table.

Strategy though… that she has problems with. She thinks too quickly, lets it all show on her face. He’s captured half the board in the time it takes for her to build one army.

So it comes as a surprise when she kneels across his lap, her knees digging into his hips and she fists a hand in the back of his hair pulling his chin up and back, snarling an alien expression. “You’ve threatened my alliance with Greece for the last time, G.”

”I think you’re the one threatening, Piccola.”Garrett has never been so glad to see the shape of her husband in the shadows of their bedroom loft.11. Who can handle spicy foods perfectly and who chugs an entire gallon of milk after accidentally eating one jalapeño

They’ve tried each other’s favourite cuisine and found a liking similar to one another’s. Even ghost-chile is eaten without qualms. But when her brother brings out the little bottle, Beth shakes her head and throws in the towel.“Sure, I’ll take some.”“Don’t do it, G.”“Why? How bad could it be?”She practically scrambles over her chair to get away from it. “It’s a recipe he picked up in Kabul.”It was Kandahar but he doesn’t correct her. According to his records, he was never there. “Don’t be a punk. It’s perfectly fine.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

“May I have this dance?”

The Dance  || Accepting

Guilt is the first thing that flares up when she realises Garrett has been standing there long enough to have asked a question. The light from the chandeliers limns him in mellow gold gleaming off the buttons, and catches at the corners of her eyes, so lately beholden to the phone tucked into her palm. When she looks up, the ambient sounds come rushing in around the shape of him; the music playing, the indistinct murmur of quiet conversations punctuated by the occasional laugh, the muffled swish of gowns as people gravitate to the silent auction and other events. None of them leave as much of an impression as he does, tall and proud in his evening dress uniform, though much to her great disappointment, he opted to leave the sword at home. The hat though rests on their small table. She slips her phone into the little sequined clutch purse, and that in turn, she sets into the empty space of his hat. She dips just the tips of her fingers into his waiting hand, her lips curving into a wine-coloured crescent, and stands. The other hand reaches down and plucks some of the chiffon of her evening gown ~matches the exact shade of her lipstick~ in a delicate fashion.“The honour and pleasure would be mine, Major.”Even in three inch velvet heels, Beth doesn’t quite come close to being statuesque, but she does catch a glimpse of the photographers snapping a few of Garrett. So she positions herself just right to block as much of him as she can. They’re here for his fellow veterans. They’re here for charity. They’re here for the good of others, not the publicity of the high-profile event.One delicate touch near his elbow, the other on his shoulder and she flicks a gaze up at him, something sardonic hovering at the corner of her lips. Her voice is smoke and the jazz playing, and a little bit of a whiskey bite even if she’s just barely glanced at her champagne over the course of the evening.“If I didn’t think they would slaughter your reputation, I’d be so tempted to tell them a story that would put Fifty-Shades to shame.”