#fyi for anyone who wanted an update: I have been sick the past few months but recovering now!!

[ministarfruit]

"...why would I become a monster?"

[woodsteingirl]

chapter two is out here! or read below the cut!

Dean turned the key to unlock the door. they all stepped inside, still in their moment of Revelation. the silence was eventually broken by jack saying, “why’s it empty?”

“It’s ‘cause our furniture isn’t here yet,” Cas explained. Dean tacked on that it would be arriving sometime today. In the meantime, before the stuff arrived, Dean took the time to explain what exactly this endeavor meant for everyone. He had applied online for a mechanic job the week prior, they had only gotten back to him to tell him he got the job the day before. Dean was still reeling from everything happening so fast. it’s like everything hed wanted for so many years was finally coming to fruition, and it was an adjustment.

Cas had signed both Jack and Claire up for school. Jack was going into first grade and Claire into her senior year of high school. Obviously, Claire was older than that, but she could pass as younger just for a little while, while everything was sorted out. Plus she could gather valuable intel that way. The hard part would be getting her to agree to this plan. Jack, on the other hand, was completely thrilled about starting school. He couldn’t wait to be able to have friends his own age. Cas didn’t have much to do throughout the day, but with the other stay-at-home parents in the neighborhood, he was sure he could find some way to help out.

Snapping out of his daydream, Dean took the time to explain how everything would go in the next month or so. “I got a job at the repair shop down the road, Cas will stay here and look after everything, Jack will go to school like we planned, and Claire, we sort of set you up in school again.”

“Wow, you guys are really on a kick of making life decisions without asking me arent you!”

“Claire, it was the best option at the time, we needed the intel from kids that age, and its not like Dean or I could just walk in and ask,” Cas explained.

There was no doubt about it, she reacted as expected. Even though shed only been out of school for a year or so, she’d never enjoyed it when she was involved, so the thought of going back made her sick to her stomach. Since there was really no where to stomp off too, as the entire house was empty, she settled for sitting on the floor behind the kitchen island to process. Some ten minutes later Dean came and sat down on the floor next to her.

“Look, I get it. Nothing can be perfect for us, but sometimes you just gotta tough it out and it’ll be better than you think.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

(This is a flashback to the action point just so everyone knows whats happening)

It was a normal Tuesday evening. The couple was eating dinner just as normal. Quiet conversation, and unspoken glances were commonplace for them, so the feeling over eerie silence was nothing new, and neither thought anything of it. They didn’t even hear the sound of the door open. Did the door even open?

The husband reached across the table for the salt, his wife screamed in horror when she caught sight of the tall hooded figure above him. The town was small and she shouldve known who it was at first sight, but unfortunately, when youre about to be stabbed, those things dont come as easy. She reached across the table for her phone to call 911, but she didnt make it before the figure had stabbed her husband and was moving on to her. Those were the last thoughts she had before being found in a pool of her own blood the next morning.

The neighbor had heard them and called the cops. News spread like the blight, and everyone was taken in for questioning, so far, no motive or prime suspects had been declared. It had been a month since, and the police presence was now slim to none, even though almost no progress had been made into the actual investigation. That’s just how it is when you have to solve a murer case with nothing to go on but a dead couple and a town of suburbanites.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

(this is bak in normal time just fyi)

After about half an hour of just trying to process what was happening, Claire was ready to go back to join the rest of her family in putting their furniture together. Cas was sitting on the floor in front of what looked like it could be a table, if you positioned it correctly.

“You need some help?” She asked.

“Yes, if it isnt too much to ask, I could use an extra hand,” he gestured to the manual, “it says you need two people here anyway.”

Claire sat down next to cas and took the manual from his hands, “what step are you even on? None of the pictures look like whatever you’ve managed to create.”

Upstairs, Dean was trying to show Jack how to use an impact driver, “look, I know youre only like what? Five? But its never too early to learn how to use a set of tools.” He handed the tool over to Jack, it looked wildly disproportionate in his hands but that’s not what mattered, what mattered was the fact that he was having a bonding moment with his son, a positive one too. He was bridging the gap of what he missed in his childhood, and giving Jack what he had wanted.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾

The next day was spent almost exclusively on introductions. First they went over and greeted their new neighbors on each side, Tracey and Paul Wayne on their right, and Peter and Vicky David on their left. It seemed to them that neither of them had much of a clue as to what was going on regarding the murder, seeing as that was not mentioned even in passing. However it could be basic politeness and not wanting to scare your new neighbors away. Both couples were in their mid-fiftes and greeted them kindly. The Waynes had a wooden statue of an eagle with some pro-America quote on it, and that was one of the most memorable things about them. The other memorable thing was their brigh red Volkswagon Beetle in the driveway. Dean silently noted a love of older cars as something to connect over in case he ever needed to get closer to them. The Davids had 6 small dogs, and that was their defining trait, they seemed like the people to have “I love my shitzu” stickers plastered all over their car, but they seemed like fine enough people.

The next thing on the agenda was when someone rang their doorbell. It was a woman about their age, who had come to their door both to introduce herself, and to inform them of a house party happening later that night. The woman introduced herself as Hester Stewart from two houses down. Both Dean and Cas were glad to see that there was someone their age who didn’t have a strange amount of pets, or questionable taste in outdoor decor. They made introductions of their own, Claire and Jack even briefly appeared to say hello. They asked her for more information about the party, and she explained that it was being put on by the HOA president to distract from all that was happening, “I guess she figured one shindig would make everyone forget about the murder that happened a few houses down from her house.” She gestured down the road and to the right, apparently in the direction of the woman’s house, “Also she did ask me to invite you, I’m not just asking you to show up without anyone’s permission,” she clarified.

After that they thanked her and went on with their day. “Do you think we should attend the party later today?” Cas asked. Not looking up from the loveseat he was putting together

“I think I was planning on it, it’d be a good way to get out and meet people, not to mention gather details on what’s happening around here without looking suspicious,” Dean replied, flipping the page in the manual.

Cas agreed. Usually events like this weren’t his thing, but he could suck it up for an hour or two if it meant gathering intel. He made a mental note to prepare for more events like this one, and pushed it to the back of his mind. He found himself having to do that more often since becoming human. His angel brain could process more information than any human by hundreds, but downsizing the amount of space in his brain was an adjustment, and he found himself having to push things of the back of his mind more often.

Claire had been eavesdropping from the top of the staircase for the past exchange. Truth be told, she was almost excited to ‘meet the new neighbors’ in such a domestic fashion. She had just gotten off the phone with Kaia, she was showing her the layout of the house, as well as updating her on the situation she had gotten herself into. “They really put you back in high school?” Kaia had asked, thinking about how if anyone had done that to her, she’d’ve put up a lot more of a fight.

“They really put me back in high school,” she had replied. Maybe deep down she did want to sort of have the closure she missed in her high school years.  She missed Kaia a large amount for only not seeing her face to face for a little less than a week, but she had learned from all she’d lost, that she just had to let herself feel her feelings.

They all gathered in the empty living room shortly after. Cas explained the whole plan to Jack and her. Jack was thrilled to be getting out of the house, and getting to see new people. He’d always been a social person, even before becoming a child, but that certainly amplified his social need. This was part of the reason Dean and Cas wanted to get out of the bunker in the first place. Now that they were actually in a position for him to make friends his age, they were certainly going to make that a priority. Dean had noticed that there were more than a few kids Jack’s age in his walk around the neighborhood earlier that day.

The hours before the gathering came faster than expected. Everyone was in a rush to change into nicer clothes and make themselves not look like they’d been putting together furniture all day. (they had, but it was the act of making themselves presentable that matters in this case.) After all, weren’t first impressions the most important? Dean hadn’t really taken account the need for nice clothes this early on in his endevour, so the nicest things he had were a button down and his spare pair of jeans. Not that anyone else was much better off. Claire was wearing a skirt with a jean jacket and combat boots, Jack didn’t change at all seeing as he didn’t see the need, and who were they to argue. Cas was probably the most normal looking of them all, with his blue suit jacket paired with some jeans.

[mypinkchapter]

Recovery & Laughs.

One of the biggest ventures in this journey can now be checked off -- surgery!

Disclaimer: my thoughts for this week on the blog won't have any really great insights, but you might have some laughs with me along the way... embarrassing for me to say because I want Jesus to shine above all & this to fully glorify Him, but I also want to be human with those reading these words & for one day when I look back & share this with Elly, so let me fill in some truths from my last week & let you see how cool Jesus was throughout.

Truth #1: I thought in this time of rest & recovery I would fill my moments in the recliner with lots of reading -- reading my Bible, reading my new Lysa TerKeurst book, reading the novel I checked out from my the library that's been at the top of my "to-read" list... but you know what? I haven't read a single page. It makes me laugh honestly because what I pictured as recovery for myself, basically consisting of lots of leisurely & encouraging reading, has actually been filled with me on medication that has made me so groggy that I've napped, napped, & napped some more. Like drool-worthy, crazy dream naps! Just one more reason the Lord has placed some of the best folks in my path, to share scripture & encouragement with me when I haven't had the ability of sorts to do that for myself. Thank you, sweet Lord, for letting those stand in the gap for me these last several days -- to feed me with truths & encouragement of Your love, mercies, & hope.

Truth #2: I've never had surgery before. Wisdom teeth removal doesn't count to medical professionals, just FYI. So, this girl was an amateur! I remember looking at the sweet anesthesiologist & said, "Are you giving me the good stuff?" & that was all she wrote. Out! I was terrified I would wake up & act like those viral videos you see of folks talking out of their minds, but nope... I woke up feeling refreshed & like I'd had a great nap! Obviously there was soreness, but the surgery itself, should anyone ever have to endure the same kind, it's for sure do-able. Thank you, sweet Lord, for every set of hands that played a part in this. You gifted me with probably two of the kindest surgeons/people I've ever met & their nurses have been nothing short of incredible.

Truth #3: I'll leave this one to be only a short story, which I know won't be short because I don't know how to be short, but it's been comical looking back on... so, when surgery wrapped up & the initial recovery for me upstairs was over, rather than heading to a lovely hospital room to be greeted by my precious husband, parents, & Gran, who would tend to my every tiny need & get me whatever snack, drink, or dinner my heart desired from the greater Jonesboro area, I was wheeled to the basement of the hospital. Y'all, the basement. It makes me crack up all over to remember them telling me they were taking me to the basement; here's why -- the hospital was full. The basement was not a bad area by any means, but it was me & well, like 15 other hospital beds with patients all coming out of surgery. Lined up, side by side, no curtains. Just all of us recovering together, some recovering better than others. So, how you wait on a table at a full restaurant, in your order of arrival, I waited for a hospital room. Now let me say, I was wheeled by the waiting room to see my sweet group of cheerleaders really quickly & them to tell me my preliminary lymph node results were CLEAR (ahhhh! THANK YOU, JESUS!), but that was it -- a 7 second greeting & cheer! Then an over 5 hour wait. No cell phone, no TV, no family. Just me very coherently hanging out with nurses, unable to nap because it was Grand Central Station with folks coming in from surgery constantly, while lying on a very flat ER bed for five hours after undergoing a pretty massive surgery. It was not funny in the moment. Not funny, not funny, not funny! But now, it sort of is... One of our sweet pastors that stayed updated on me throughout the day from Ryan, called him late afternoon while I was still of course in the basement, & he said, "Ahhh, there's no room in the inn." Haha! Thank you, sweet Lord, for the precious ladies that watched over me that afternoon, that stayed hours & hours over their shifts to take care of me & those other patients. Thank you for teaching me patience & humility, even when I wasn't in the most receptive mood. And thank you, Jesus, that I was eventually joined back to my family & had a big, comfy, end room, five hours later.

Truth #4: What should be truth #1, but my husband. Oh my heavens, my husband. I fully believe Ryan Gibson was crafted for me by the Lord himself. He has loved me so good for nine years now, six in marriage, but let me just say: when a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, so is her husband, her children, her parents, her family, & her friends. My husband in this past month though has been the model man that every woman could ever deserve. I do not deserve him & the love that he has demonstrated; it is purely the love of Jesus in him. Yes, he has cheered me on, encouraged me with truths, shared medical knowledge from his background with me, entertained Elly when I wasn't able to, sat with me while tears fell, & distracted me with lots of laughs, but y'all, until you have been in a similar situation of literally becoming helpless -- my upper body post-surgery has pretty well been useless up until the last day or so -- it has opened up a new realm of love I didn't know existed in marriage. Sure, I've been sick before. I'm pretty positive living through food poisoning with me about did him a few years ago, but cancer & surgery... bless him. I am probably one of the most modest women I've ever known, but that has had to fly out the window with this & that's been really hard for me. Ryan has met that with complete humor & keeping things so light-hearted. So many moments this past week that would bring tears otherwise, tears of pain, tears of embarrassment, tears of unknown, Ryan has met with only the charm he has that is perfectly perfect for me & keeps my tears at bay. Quite simply, thank you, sweet Lord, for your gift of marriage & my precious, selfless helpmate, Ryan.

Truth #5: I have the world's best parents. Elly had a stay-cation with Nana & Pop. She ruled the roost & kept those two busy, busy, busy! They stepped in to love on & 100% take care of our child for the past week. Elly’s world stayed as normal as functionally possible & that was such a relief. We had a FaceTime session every night but she was usually too occupied with Nana & Pop to care much for us. We had to beg for sugars & a “night night” every night! What a blessing that was to be such a seamless process. Thank you, sweet Lord, for demonstrating Your perfect love through my dear parents. Thank you for blessing me with two of the greatest individuals I have ever known, to learn from.

Truth #6: Dr. Dicocco, my surgeon, yesterday at my follow-up appointment asked me, "Do you know everyone in & around Jonesboro?" I laughed & said I didn't think so. She told in the past week she has had countless people tell her thank you for taking such good care of Erin Gibson. Y'all... I've said it so many times & I'll say again, Jesus has purposefully planted every person in & around my path, preparing me for this. I know it, without a shadow of doubt. People to most importantly pray & I would swear that I have some of the most solid prayer warriors that ever were, but people again to encourage us & love on us in very practical ways. We have been fed every single night & even many days at lunchtime. That has meant the world to us & truth be known, there have been days I was living for the yummy food I had coming that night! We have started to receive financial help from fundraisers to make such a huge dent in our medical expenses and that is something we can't thank anyone enough for. We have been so honored in seeing people physically showing their support by wearing pink or Team Erin. We just don't even know how to process it all & it will probably take a long time to do just that, but I will never forget the love shown to us. Thank you, sweet Lord, that you have been so purposeful in my life to create a support system like I could have never dreamed. Thank you, Lord, that so many of those in our lives love You & have demonstrated Your love toward us. I pray that I could love in the same way we have been shown.

I'll end on the the fact that I received the best "grade" & smiley face that I've gotten ever gotten on a report: we learned yesterday that I am officially Stage I! A huge answered prayer! Treatment will continue as planned - 4 tough rounds of chemo for 2 months & 12 lighter rounds of chemo for 3 months - but we are ready for every step to come. I know, because I have asked lots of questions of many knowledgeable folks, that there are some hard & ugly days ahead with chemo, but you know what? There are going to be some great & really fun days ahead too, and I'd bet more of those than the bad or ugly! May Jesus be glorified in every day that is to come for us.

All my love from my pink chapter,  Erin

[therunningpa]

New job & night shift novella

So I’ve been at a new job the past 6 weeks. I’m still a hospitalist, but I’ve moved to night shift. It’s a long story for another time, but basically I was getting burned out and it was either change shifts or move to a different department altogether. Because I love IM so much I am desperately clinging to it for the time being. In my current role, I only do new admissions and consults.

Since I only post now, like, once a year I figured I might as well write a nice long story for you guys! Because also, when have I kept things short, ever?

So, here you go, a narrative of my day (night?).

I leave my house, clutching my tote of Campbell’s Double Noodle soup cans, rice crackers, and Gatorade. I kiss my husband, tell him I love him, and remind him to please finish cleaning the kitchen for me. He needs a lot of reminding. I need a lot of therapy. We’ve had a lot of therapy. It’s been a year sober for him and the anniversary has been hard, bringing back the guilt big time. It’s been more down days than usual the past month and as I leave the house I can only hope I won’t get any liver patients or alcoholics tonight.

I pull in to the hospital, badge in through various doors, end up in the office. The day shift is coming to a close. “Hey!” my coworkers greet me, “Feeling better?”

“Tons! Not a hundred percent but good enough for active duty.”

My terrible med seeking external ED dump patient from earlier this week had given me her norovirus. I’d spent the previous night out sick, puking and near-syncopizing. (FYI- use the bleach wipes next time!!)

I check in with the three physicians I’m working with that night. One, a seasoned night shifter, a quiet man I dub “The Machine” because of his deftness and ease at admitting patients. One, a seasoned nocturnist, another quiet and confident man who could run a thousand codes without screaming “fuck!” not even once. The third, an exceedingly nice new residency graduate who recently started with us and is probably reconsidering the job after his first week on nights. They have a lot of patients coming from outlying facilities, but no one arrived yet.

I sit around for an hour and a half, check emails, clear my inbox of the previous day’s results and check up on a few of those patients, eat a cup of noodles, rub my belly, think about how I shouldn’t have had coffee, then, all at once, I have 3 admissions I’m called to see. Yes, it’s true, they really all do come at once.

I triage them, and go see first an unfortunate lady who is bleeding and clotting. Or rather, likely to bleed. She has a genetic disorder predisposing her to clots and bleeding, and has come in with chest pain. The chest CT showed a pulmonary embolism, one in each lung. I’d hoped they’d be subsegmental, but they weren’t. I meet with her, spend a long time talking. I tell her I’ll call the hematologist and get back to her. I put out a page.

I jump up to the orthopedics floor to see my next patient, a 73 year old lady with COPD and osteoporosis who fell down the stairs at home and probably broke her sacrum. She’s straightforward enough, other than saying she’s intolerant to everything IV opioid except fentanyl. Which she’s not going to get outside of the ED. I write for oxycodone and IV ketorolac and pray her pending labs show normal renal function.

The hematologist pages me while I’m writing patient 2′s note. He recommends a heparin drip, so it can be turned off quickly if patient 1 starts to bleed. He also says he has no idea what to do with her after that, as far as a long term plan. I text my attending and let him know the plan for tonight. While I’m finishing my note, he texts me back an SOS that patient 1 is refusing heparin because she’s afraid of bleeding.

I go back to the ED, I print out UpToDate, visit the poor lady with the PEs again. I talk about risks and benefits, types of heparin. She has some cognitive impairments from a stroke, but she gets it enough that she has capacity. She still declines the heparin, wants us to “watch her” overnight in the hospital though. I check in with bed control, ask for an IMCU bed since she’s refusing blood thinners, and am told there are no ICU beds left. She’ll have to go to the regular floor.

My third patient is a prisoner with history of peptic ulcers and GI bleed coming in with worsening anemia. Actually, he never shows up from the outside hospital because of some officer conflict. His name gets handed off to the next shift.

Fourth patient shows up in the IMCU, from an outside hospital. The notes he comes with are scanty. Acute on chronic hyponatremia, ?dementia. Hypotensive. Weak. I hope he can give me some history. When I walk in he tells me he’s in a hotel in a different state and doesn’t remember how he got here. He denies any symptoms or concerns. It’s 11 pm, but I dial his elderly wife and bless her, she’s up, and gives me the full scoop. He ends up with a slew of labs, head CT, cardiac echocardiogram.

Fifth patient was not supposed to be admitted. Just discharged 2 days ago with COPD flare, end stage COPD on home oxygen. I read the ED notes in the chart, indicating the family demanded the patient be admitted because they are unhappy and that we are being investigated for discharging her too soon, or was it the nursing home was being investigated for not taking care of her the past 2 days? Or both? The discharge summary from my PA colleague indicates the patient refused hospice the last stay. Awww nawwww. I go and see her. It’s late and at least that means the angry family has gone away. I sit with the patient, she’s very anxious, I’ve taken care of her before. I listen for a long time, answer questions, sometimes the same question over and over. She eventually admits her memory ain’t so good anymore. She then marvels “you’ve asked me more questions than anyone else has today”. I hope that’s a good thing. I go through her extensive workup and again conclude that “I am so sorry, but what you have is not fixable. I think we need to focus on trying to get your symptoms better, but we can’t cure you”. She agrees to at least have a palliative care consult. She grumbles about her bad nursing home experience and says her family called to have the bed held for the following day. I waggle my eyebrows at her “You know, if you don’t hold the bed they’ll give it up and then you’ll have to be here through the weekend and then we can see if your preferred nursing home has a spot now, But, you didn’t hear that from me!” She beams. Somewhere, a social worker has rolled over in their grave and pledges to haunt me in my dreams tonight.

I run up to my office again and eat some more noodles, drink Gatorade, rub my gastroparetic-feeling tummy, and finish up my notes just as one of the physicians strides in with a cardiology consult for a patient who just had a STEMI, now in the coronary ICU. They were found to have multivessel coronary artery disease, received a stent. “Should be easy” he says, “Cardiology has done everything!”.

Except, they haven’t. Patient is from outside our system. Needs an entire medical record update. I also notice his blood sugar is > 300 and there’s no insulin ordered. I add “Type 2 Diabetes” to his problem list. I go in and see him, expecting him to be asleep at 1:30 in the morning, but he is wide awake and surrounded by family. He’s a good soul, we have a long talk about diabetes. His wife has a lot of cardiac questions and try to answer as able. His nurse pops in. “His blood pressure is greater than 150 and they want him under that post cath. There’s no medications ordered”. I step out, sigh. Honestly, I have no idea what cardiology does or does not want for an antihypertensive in their post cath patient. I have a sneaking suspicion it also varies widely by the cardiologist. I wish they would order this shit on their people already. I’m just here for the diabeet-us. Gah! 

“What do they usually do for the post cath protocol?” I wonder out loud.

“How about some PO metropolol?” a nurse asks.

I make a face “Really? They do that?”

The nurse looks horrified “Um, yeah, all MIs should be getting that!”

I shake my head “No, I know that, that’s not what I meant, I just mean it’s not going to act rapidly and it’s not going to do much, I mean maybe IV metoprolol but-”

She looks further horrified “No, they never do IV!”

I wanted to say “but I would never give that”, finishing my thought, but instead I shrug and give up. “I’ll ask the attending.” 

I don’t work in the ICUs that often, and I especially don’t know the night crew being new at this job. It’s true what they say, sometimes you need to earn your stripes with some ICU staff, especially if you’re a PA. Also, goddammit cardiology, order your antihypertensives! And beta blockers! And statins! (Also, I love you my cardiology people out there, please don’t take my 2 AM thoughts too seriously to heart, ok?)

I trudge back to my office, finish writing notes and checking labs and imaging that have come back. The demented hyponatremic guy does not have a brain bleed. The COPD flare bounce back has a normal procalcitonin. The untreated PE has normal blood pressures. Broken sacrum indeed does have normal renal function. I order new labs for the day crew. I report out to my docs. Around 3:30 AM I hang up my coat, collect my soup and Gatorade cans to recycle, and stumble out the cold wintry parking garage. I cast a few glances, good, no creepers trolling about, get in my car, and drive home.

I drive through the industrial part of the city and through spotlights and fog I see that the operations are already going at this ungodly hour. Backstreet Boys is playing on the radio. I pull into the back alley outside my house. I tentatively feel my way through the backyard, trying not to fall on my ass on the ice over our sidewalk, like I did the other night. I slip inside, and am completely delighted to see that not only has the kitchen been cleaned but there’s a loaf of homemade banana bread sitting out, steaming a little still. I hear a soft pitter-patter and my puppy steals down the stairwell to greet me. She wiggles from head to toe and jumps on me, playfully stealing my lanyard of keys and running away, shaking them. I took her home one day from a rescue this past summer, pretty much against my husband’s will, and I secretly believe she at least 75% the reason his depression lifted. He now agrees. I let her out to pee, then tread upstairs and wash my face and put on my pajamas, kiss my sleeping husband. I’m too wired to sleep though, maybe because I spent the last day and a half sleeping off the norovirus, so I go back downstairs, eat some banana bread, and start to write.

[5hfanfiction]

January 18,2017 (V)

~ flashback ~

Lauren’s POV

We had just finished laying down some tracks and rehearsals for the beginning of our tour that starts in a few months after our album drops, this is so exciting for us! Though I can’t get my mind off of Camila, she is just not wanting to stick around us and is just more specifically avoiding me a lot . I wanted to catch her right after rehearsals the last two times but she always leaves as soon as we are done. I have no idea where she goes, shouldn’t I know these things? I mean I am her girlfriend. She hardly responds to my texts or calls anymore, we haven’t been able to hold an actual conversation in I don’t know how long. I round the corner and I see her just as she’s leaving the building to get into her uber.

“Camz”

“Hey, I have to go I’ve got a meeting in a bit.”

“Oh, well ok. I didn’t know, I guess I wouldn’t know that anyway we haven’t talked about…anything lately.”

“Lo…really it’s nothing, just please don’t mention it to the girls or the team. I don’t want any crap when I get back tomorrow.”

“Are you coming over today? Last time we spoke you said you would…that was two weeks ago”

She sighs while rubbing her temple “Shit babe I forgot, I’m sorry. uh yeah if I have time I’ll text you ok” she says as she gets into the car and it drives away

“yeah” I whisper to myself “if you have time”

I walk back into the studio to shower, change and be on my way. To my surprise everyone is in our changing room either hanging out or letting us know any last minute changes or updates in our schedule for the following weeks events or appearances. Jen one of our team leaders sitting alongside Will motions me to come over to the couch where they are with the other girls.

“Where’s Mila? I need you guys to all know we switched up the set list for the show in Mexico. Is she in the shower?”

“She wasn’t feeling well…”

“She was just fine 20 minutes ago.” Dinah says

“She left didn’t she?"Normani says "Not because she left sick right?” she continues… she scoffs a bit.

“Mani..it’s not like that -” I try to plea

“Then what is it like? She rushes out of every one of our rehearsals to go to a ‘meeting’ or her own rehearsal or the studio." 

She’s frustrated, they all are as I look around our little circle. I can’t say that I blame them because I’m just as pissed off as they are but I also can’t help but defend her.

"She said it wasn’t anything big probably just an update or something -”

Will speaks up “Which is exactly what we are doing, this is her priority, she should be here not there!”

Ally places her hand on my knee, “Just let her know the updates when you see her, so that way she isn’t out of the loop. yeah?”

I give her a small smile and nod, grateful that she stepped in before it got any worse. It has in the past and I’ve felt awful about it but I can’t keep defending her when I agree with everything they are saying. I’m not telling her to not pursue her solo endeavors I just wish she wouldn’t hide them from us. I’ll have to talk to her about it tonight when I see her…..IF I see her.

~ later that night ~

It’s basically midnight so at this point I’ve given up on the fact that Camila is coming to see me, I don’t even know why there was even a little ounce of me that would think that maybe, just maybe she’d show up. I was on the phone earlier with Lucy crying my eyes out because I don’t feel wanted or needed in this relationship or whatever the fuck we are, I spend so much time wondering where the hell she is because she doesn’t tell me anything anymore. I have no idea where she is, who she is with emotionally or physically. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore. This isn’t the way we are suppose to be, we are suppose to be happy and together. Instead I’m sitting in my hotel room alone, absolutely alone. I couldn’t stand being suffocated by these four walls anymore, so I grab my jacket to leave and once I swing the door open there she was…

“Babe please don’t be mad, I know it’s late - she steps past me and into my room - but the meeting ran longer than I expected then Ron wanted to go out to dinner with a potential new collab, which i’m really excited to tell you about. My phone died which is why I didn’t text you but trust me you are gonna freak, …wait. - she just now notices I was the one that opened the door she didn’t get a chance to knock and I had my jacket in my hand - Where are you going? It’s like midnight?”

“Oh really thanks, Sherlock not like I was waiting up for you or anything” I scoffed while throwing my jacket on the chair and moving across the room to the fridge for a bottle of water

“Laur, I didn’t ask or expect you to wait up for me - she says while closing the door - but I told you my phone died. It actually died right after I got a text from Will bitching me out about my meeting. I asked you to not saying anything”

“It’s kinda hard to cover for you when it’s the same bullshit over and over again, plus I didn’t say anything. They figured it out, like they always do.” I lean against the edge of the bed and sigh deeply

“ok…. I don’t know where this attitude is coming from but don’t keep me in the dark-”

“Oh cause you haven’t kept me in the dark!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t tell me anything Camila! You go around sneaking and hiding behind everyones back and you don’t tell anyone anything, especially me. We are suppose to be a team. Everyone bitches at me about you all the time - ”

“I’m not doing this for them, I’m doing this for me..for you..for us!”

“No! You screwed up Camila, again!

She scoffs loudly and just sighs ” oh great, thank you"

“You put me in a position where I have to defend you again, where I have to bend my morals again, where I have to go against every single thing that I believe in again, because I love you”

“Then stop loving me”

“I can’t!”

There was a long pause after that, I couldn’t even look at her. Did she really just ask me to stop loving her? This is what it feels like then huh? Heartbreak. This is what it feels like when you love someone and they don’t love you back. I am confused, she’s crying, she looks broken, then why did she say that? Did she want to hurt me? Was it a coping mechanism?  I was going to say something but then she softly whispers

“I’m sad” she says

“I am too….Camila, but something’s changed in you..towards me. You’re distant, cold, I don’t know what I’ve done but I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. Is that what you want?”

She doesn’t say anything. Just tears streaming down her face but she says nothing.

“You know why I’d leave you alone? Cause I care about your feelings more than my own, because I love you?

Still silence, all I hear is her shaking breathing every time she breathes in and out and all I see is her trying to wipe her tears away but she loses every time fresh ones leave her reddened eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you”

“Too much - she says - too much is wrong with me! Thats the problem isn’t it, too much is wrong with me and you can’t try to do anything about it you can’t change me you can’t fix me because I’m not broken I don’t need to be fixed! I am me, thats it. Just me”

“That’s it. - I pause knowing exactly where this is going -  This is you breaking up with me” I said calmly as we both looked at each other and both came to the same realization. We’re done.

A/N: I feel like this is losing interest…lol if you guys have an suggestions please let me know…. and FYI this is a flashback of Camren if you couldn’t already tell…if there is a next chapter it will be a continuation of the interview. thanks for the views and votes. comment if you want anything specific to happen and as always any feedback is  appreciated!