#cessie harrison

[bcolfanfic]

thank you for the last line tags mwah mwah here’s a bit of off roading OC development i was doing today. if you see this post it counts as me tagging you!

John took a step back, hitting his hand against the stair rail a few times as he moved to shout up the steps.

“Hey Cess- can you come down here?��

Frances- Cessie, John’s girl or Marge’s depending on who was asking. She looked like John which Gale alternated between finding amusing and finding unsettling. Dark wavy hair with deep set blue eyes- and she wasn’t much shorter than he was either.

‘cept she has more freckles than you John, Marjorie had said once when she’d had more to drink than she normally did, sitting on her lap and tilting her head back to kiss her jaw, pawing for Cessie’s cigarette . I know, ‘cause I counted ‘em.

The introduction she had made between them when Gale first met her felt like it was missing some pieces, namely about exactly when they’d gone from writing each during the war to what this was now. But he liked her anyway. Cessie liked keeping a toothpick between her lips and woke up screaming just like he did- memories of what she saw as a nurse in the Philippines haunting her the same way flack did him.

[bcolfanfic]

her <3

late to doing last line tag and i truly cannot write this fr until i finish el dorado and the brady fic but. here's an off roading blurb that was born from me developing the OC ie marge's girl <3 set in post war show canon. ref to suicide attempt under the read more line.

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Cessie came downstairs with her hair still damp from the shower, droplets landing on the hardwood floor because she hadn't bothered to towel it dry. She'd rushed down the moment she heard the commotion, quick as ever.

Cessie was good like that.

She zoned in on where Marge had backed herself up against the counter trying to catch her breath, heels of her hands hovering near her eyes.

"What's going on here?" She asked, her voice laced with worry, as she slipped a hand behind her back, helping her straighten up. Gently tugging at her wrists to get them away from her face, Cessie looked between the three of them, waiting.

"Gale was gonna leave, Ces," Marge whispered after a pause, her voice wet. "Just leave us and go- go die in a ditch like none of us meant a thing to him,"

"Marge." John said. He shot a glance at Gale, who was staring at the floor.

"No," Cessie snapped without hesitation, "What’s she talking about?" Her voice sharpened as she turned fully toward Gale.

Marge's voice cracked as she spoke up again, before Gale could so much as look up, louder this time. "He tried to crash his truck on purpose- like, like some crazy person." She exclaimed, pushing out from Cessie's arm to take a step in his direction. "I’m never getting in a car with you again, none of us should-"

He hadn't meant it to, but before he could stop it, a sob escaped Gale's throat, loud and ragged like a wounded animal.

"Marjorie, that's ENOUGH."

John’s voice bounced off of every wall in the farmhouse. And had the intended effect, Marge freezing like she'd been turned to stone.

Cessie didn't even look about to chide John for acting like their father. Not this time.

Clenching his jaw so tight it looked like he might crack a tooth, John exhaled through his nose. "We get it- we all get it." He said after a minute, waving a hand at nothing. But it's not helping is it?"