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wellhellotragic · 6 years ago

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CSJJ Day 28: A Rather Common Name (2/2)

"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." - Jonathan Safran Foer (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)

Well here we are. The end of my final piece. For those who have joined me over the last few years, thanks for taking this ride with me. Thank you to the amazing @profdanglaisstuff for polishing this up last minute. @csjanuaryjoy

Summary:

She hated him. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he was a dick when they met. So why did she tell him about the apartment for rent in her building? And why did she let him in; let him climb her walls? Why did she let herself trust him when every man she'd ever been with had betrayed her? Why did she think he'd be different?

And why, despite it all, did she still love him?

Part 1 can be found here.

If Ao3 is more your thing.

There was something to be said for a life not lived. The way people allowed regrets to build as easily as letters in an unchecked mailbox. Every day choosing to ignore the inevitable arrival of new opportunities. Hoping that by not acknowledging something, it meant that it simply didn’t exist. A road that ends at a fork, a path not taken, a challenge not accepted. But inevitably, everything becomes too much and in an instant, everything can topple. Fate finally spilling over. The choices made, the hearts ruptured. Regrets built on a toxic burial ground where hope went to die.

August had said it once. Quoted it from one of the hundreds of books he’d read. "Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." A more eloquent way of telling her that she was missing out. That she was letting everything pass her by. She hadn’t understood it in the moment. Tensions were too high. But he was right. She’d spent her entire life running, building walls as high as her excuses. She wasn’t living, and now... Well now it might be too late.

“There’s been an accident.”

David repeated himself once more in an effort to be heard over the music. It took a few minutes to command the attention of the room, but with those four words, her entire world flipped on its axis.

That’s all they knew.

The apartment cleared out until only four remained. Then only one. The others already on their way in David’s old beat up truck. But Emma stayed, alone, picking up empty cups, trying to keep her mind occupied. No one even questioned whether she was going to join them. They already knew the answer. One year of silence wouldn’t easily be broken.

She couldn't go. Couldn’t face him. Couldn’t face them . If she didn’t go, if she didn’t care , then it wouldn’t be real. So she stayed. She stayed until every inch of the apartment was scrubbed clean. All of the food put away. The dishes dried.

The New Year came and went, just as it had every year before. And just as always before, she was alone. Her eyes stung as they blurred as she began to sob. Outside the window waited the mouth of hell.

The storm continued to rage, wind whipping through her hair. Tears fell from the heavens, camouflaging those on her face. She pleaded with the heavens above to spare a life. A prayer unanswered.

New Year’s Day: One year earlier

They didn’t exchange words. Upon hearing Ruby screaming his name, Emma bolted straight back to her own apartment. Graham called after her, but she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing either of their disheveled faces emerging from the bathroom. Didn’t need to stay long enough to see the aftermath. To watch them sneak glances at each other all night. She needed out.

She saw him briefly the next morning as he emerged from his own apartment to head to work. He smiled at her as if nothing was wrong. As if he hadn’t ruined everything only hours before. But then he saw her, really saw her. The hollow red eyes, puffy face, chewed nails. The smile changed, something small, something disingenuous. She ignored him, sparing him nothing as she took a wide berth to avoid bumping his shoulder. Despite her four mile run, her body was still unnerved, her emotions unbalanced. She was spoiling for a fight. One he nearly gave her as he tried to grab her wrist, asking her what was wrong.

She couldn’t hide it. The way she despised every fiber of his being written all over her face. He’d seen it, guilt etching it’s way across his brow. The corners of his lips tugging down.

“Emma?”

Nothing.

“You saw didn’t you.” His jaw clenched, muscles flexing.

Tears welled unbidden.

“Don’t touch me.” She made it five feet down the hallway before she turned back to him. “I trusted you. You know that? I thought- God, it doesn’t even matter. We, whatever this is, we’re through.”

He called after her.

“ Please, Swan, I can explain if you just give me a chance.”

She never turned back. There was no need. There was nothing he could say to make it better. She’d given him her heart, and he’d shattered it in return.

When they passed each other in the hallway two days later, he tried. He stood at his doorway, keys in hand after what she assumed was a long shift at work, and he just watched her, pleading with his eyes. He looked so small and weary. So guilty. She turned around right away and ran back into her apartment where she stayed for the rest of the night.

Instead of her intended stakeout that evening, she continued to do research on her skip, and if a few tabs on law schools opened themselves by mistake, she made no move to close them. It was time for her to move on. Nothing holding her back anymore. She’d been saving for years. The sole purpose of collecting skips to continue her education, and with her checking account issues finally resolved, her car paid off, and no more reasons not to, it was time.

Months passed as Emma readied herself. She studied for the LSAT, filled out university applications from coast to coast. The idea of picking up and leaving everything behind all too tempting. To leave behind the ghosts of her past, to leave behind the burdens on her heart. But then a letter appeared, properly placed in small white envelope.

Rejected.

The letter was more eloquent than that, but in summation, with very little by way of explanation, it said that once more, she wasn’t good enough.

Hope became harder and harder to hold on to as more of the tiny little letters appeared, all saying the same thing. We thank you for your interest. Rejection after rejection. Eventually the last one appeared.

Boston University, School of Law.

Rejected.

So with nowhere to go, she stayed. Friends’ Friday replaced with Emma Wednesday where the designated beverage was wine and wine alone. Dinner with the Nolans, with only the Nolans. Even the newest and smallest member. She still picked up the odd skip here and there, but with her future gone, there was little to look forward to. No reason to try.

Spring came, then summer. Snow melted and flowers bloomed. Somehow, despite her entire life standing still, the rest of of the world went on around her. Killian still lived down the hall, and from what Mary Margaret told her, Ruby was still sleeping her way through the greater part of Boston. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since January, almost seven months earlier.

Killian.

His number blocked and his knocks unanswered. His gifts returned unopened. She’d cut him out of her life like a cancer. Malignant. Destructive. Deadly. She had no choice. Not after New Year’s. After she finally gave herself permission to open her heart up to him, only to have it crushed in the process.

She’d cut Ruby out of her life too, even if the latter had been too self absorbed to notice at first. A two week window passed before Ruby even realized that Emma was upset, much less with her. But after three missed Friday dinners, Ruby finally confronted her.

Emma, in a moment of complete frustration and poor judgement called her promiscuous and selfish. Ruby told her that she had a stick up her ass. That she needed to stop always playing the victim. Their friendship strained beyond the point of repair. That had been the end of that.

Despite Mary Margaret’s hovering, Emma’s solitude began to consume her. Alienated from half of her friends, it left her wanting for human companionship. To be touched. Wanted. Desired. Eventually her loneliness won out.

Dressed in that same skin tight dress she’d worn countless times before she found herself in a bar. A seedy little number near the edge of the city with her come hither lashes and kiss-me red lips. She’d found him right away. A guy at the end of the bar. He sent her a drink and she sent him back a note on a napkin.

They both snuck away to the bathroom at the back. Scummy. Grimy. Just like her conscience. His tongue twisted with hers, his moans filled her ears. She gave as good as she got, reveling in the feel of his hands on her back. But as one of his palms dipped down past her ass, trying to find its way under her hem, something snapped and she felt disgusted with herself. He called after her in shock and anger, calling her a tease as she ran away.

Emma showered twice that night and threw the dress away. It was sullied. She tossed and turned, sleep ever elusive. She felt rotten, inside and out.

Emma had never been much of a cryer, reserving her tears for truly awful events. She hadn’t cried when Neal left, not even when Walsh had cheated. In fact, from what she could recall, she’d only cried six times in her entire life. Seven if she counted the night a week later.

A song had come over her headphones as she sat in her car waiting for signs of her latest skip. The same stupid song that had played that night. The night they’d almost kissed. Neither had discussed it, pretending it never happened. It never came up, and Emma had pushed it to the back of her brain immediately after not wanting to admit to herself that it might have been nice.

It was a late August night. Killian was in rare form telling her humiliating stories from his childhood. Like that his first kiss had been at 16. There was a party and a bottle pointing at him. Apparently teenage Killian had been a gangly awkward kid with oversized glasses. When the girl leaned forward to kiss him, he’d nearly spunked in his pants. It wasn’t all fun though. There was plenty of complaining about her car, the lack of legroom, the hard seats. The way it stood out like a sore thumb, to which she’d replied that it wasn’t nearly as obvious as the yellow bug she’d had before. She’d then had to explain that the bug had been stolen (both times) which led to her telling him about how she’d actually met Neal. She’d always left that part out when they talked about him before. All while sitting in her little Mini Cooper. She hadn’t even invited him. He’d just heard the name of her skip, admittedly a big guy, and worried about her enough to tag along. Telling him about Neal had led to the story of how she ended up in foster care. A story she’d never told anyone . It wasn’t your fault, Emma. That’s what he’d told her as he held her chin in his hand, swiping his thumb across her cheek. Then he’d leaned in, a hair's width separating their lips and she’d been sure he was going to kiss her. Surprisingly, she hadn’t even pulled back.

Not until the car at the corner started blaring its horn at another driver. They’d moved apart so quickly. It had never come up again. Ingrid or the kiss. She wasn’t sure she’d even heard the song since, but as it played that night, tears fell.

Emotionally and physically spent, Emma headed home. Her skip had never shown. Nothing to show for her troubles. But when she arrived back to her apartment at four in the morning, she found her door unlocked and her kitchen lights on. She briefly considered running down stairs and waking up David, but considering how little sleep he usually got with baby Leo constantly waking up at odd intervals, she chose to let him sleep.

Grabbing a broom from the closet nearest the door, she headed from room to room, looking for signs of an intruder or missing items. Everything seemed fine though, and with a large sigh Emma flopped down on her couch, only to scream when her body came into contact with a large male form groaning underneath her. She shot up, searching from the boorm handle or any other large heavy object she could use to incapacitate the intruder.

“I’ve been meaning to bump into you.”

Emma’s eyes popped open at the recognition of his voice. One she hadn’t heard for months.

“Are you asking me out?”

“I hardly need to ask you out when I’ve already found my way in.”

Emma showed him to the edge of the sofa, allowing her space to sit down beside him.

“Why are you in my apartment anyway?”

He shifted over a little more, allowing him to turn in the table top lamp. He hair was longer than she’d ever seen it. Curlier. His eyes still blue but tired.

“Let’s just say Phuket is overrated. I missed the capitalistic consumerism of the good ol’ U-S-of-A.”

“You mean that you owed too many people money over there so you ran back home with your tail between your legs.” He laughed next to her, confirming her suspicions. “Well, to be fair, you lasted longer than I thought you would. And I know why you’re here in Boston, but that doesn’t explain why you’re in my apartment.”

They stayed up for another hour talking about life. August had gotten in that night and found her spare key in her usual hiding spot, taped to the inside top of the emergency call box in the elevator. He let himself in after waiting forty five minutes. Apparently the guy that had moved into his old apartment was concerned and told him he was loitering and needed to leave. That was his other problem. He no longer had a place, and hadn’t bothered making many friends in the city during his time there. Emma was the only person he knew that would let him crash on her couch for a night or two. A week tops.

A week turned into a month, and August started joining Emma at her weekly dinners with David and Mary Margaret, never correcting their assumptions about the nature of his and Emma’s relationship. Letting her friends believe she was taken had benefits. It prevented Mary Margaret from just barging into her apartment at odd hours. It gave her an excuse to bail on plans at the last minute. But mostly it stopped her friend from trying to set her up every time the saw each other.

Living with him, if that’s what she could call it, had its cons too though. August’s hours were just as irregular as she remembered, and his writing temperament even more erratic. He was messy, drank like a fish, and was constantly eating all of her food. Worst of all, he had a habit of leaving the toilet seat up. Emma found that out the hard way.

They bickered nonstop, and Emma couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it was like to have a sibling. An older brother to drive her crazy, while somehow simultaneously giving her comfort by making her finally feel like she wasn’t alone anymore.

During one particularly intense round of arguing, August had insinuated that she needed to get laid. The suggestion hadn’t been well received and she’d almost kicked him out right then and there. But then he’d explained himself. The Emma Swan he knew had always had a rather lascivious appetite for sex as a stress reliever. He wasn’t wrong. The Emma he knew had no issues putting on a skimpy little number and finding a man for the night. That was before Killian though. She’d already tried that and it had gone spectacularly wrong.

Fighting about her sex life had forced her to reveal things to August. Things she’d skillfully left out of prior conversations. Like how close she had Killian had really been. How she’d realized too late that she was in love with him. How he’d cheated on her. Even about the guy in the bar bathroom.

After she told him the entire story, he just whistled and sat there, taking in everything she’d said.

Finally, he spoke.

“So what you need isn’t to get laid. What you need is a date.”

Emma smacked him in the chest, but he continued.

“No, hear me out. It’s been what, eight, nine months now, right?”

Emma nodded.

“So it’s been all this time, and you’re still in love with the guy.” She opened her mouth but he cut her off. “And before you try to deny it, yes you are. You wouldn’t still be this upset if you weren't. Hell, you weren’t even half as hurt when Walsh cheated on you, and you guys were practically engaged.”

Emma sighed, slumping her shoulders in resignation. He was right. When she’d caught Walsh, she’d been pissed, throwing out everything in her apartment that belonged to him. But with Killian she’d sulked, drowning in her pain, unwilling to let it go.

“Emma, you’re never going to get over him like this. Hiding in your apartment every time you see him coming down the hall. Pretending he doesn’t exist. If you really want to get over him, you need to learn to put yourself back out there. You need to find someone new.”

“I’ll think about it.”

And that was exactly what she did. She went to bed thinking about Killian and her inability to get over him. The fact that even if she was willing to put herself out into the world, she’d still held firm to the idea that Emma Swan didn’t date. Except that she did. Or at least she had, and just hadn’t realized it at the time.

She thought about it the next week and the one after that. She thought about it at the store, on her morning runs. She even thought about it in the shower. But it wasn’t until she was bringing in her latest skip, so lost in thought that she forgot where she was going that the world had given Emma a chance to turn the idea of dating into a reality.

Graham. She hadn’t seen him since that night. Could still see the look on his face that evening. But on that particular morning, dragging Bobby McFarland in for skipping out on his fraud charges, Graham looked different. Happy even.

After she’d transferred her skip over, Graham struck up a conversation with her. They exchanged small talk, which turned to reminiscing, and somehow it had turned into an invitation for dinner. Emma accepted, thinking that it would be nice to have some time to catch up with her old friend. It hadn’t even occurred to her, until hours later when she talked to August about it, that it was a date. Or it was possibly a date. Graham hadn’t actually used that word, but the text he’d sent her asked if she’d been to Luciano’s, an upscale Italian restaurant.

She didn’t even pick out her outfit. After trying on every single thing she owned, Emma had screamed into her pillow. August ran into her room to find her entire closet on her floor and finally told her to just trust him. What he left out on her bed nearly left her in tears. It was that same pale pink dress that she’d hidden deep within her closet. The one that had only ever seen the light of day once.

She thought about throwing it away, just like the red dress, but quickly realized it was the only thing she had that nice enough for the restaurant. So she put it on, and then put on the biggest fake smile she could manage.

Graham picked her up a six, just as planned. The car ride there was fairly short, but the conversation was stilted. Both grappled for something to say. For anything. An odd turn of events given how easily they conversed only hours before. The ordering of their food and drinks went much the same. Both of them trying to start conversations at the same time, then stopping as soon as they realized it. As far as first dates went, it wasn’t her worst, but far from her best.

Finally, after the appetizers arrived, the two of them finally managed to settle into a groove. She discovered that Graham was studying for the Captain’s exam but wasn’t sure if he was going to take it or not. He’s taken a vacation recently and had fallen in love with a sleepy little town in Maine. He was still strongly contemplating a move there, knowing that the Sheriff was retiring soon and looking for a replacement. With his experience, he was a shoo-in.

She told him she that she’d considered leaving Boston at one point too, but fate must have had other plans. She left out the multiple rejection letters from different law schools though. It was humiliating enough without sharing that little tidbit with people.

Around dessert, things turned. Without realizing it, Emma placed her hand on Graham’s hand. It was an innocent gesture on her part, just a reflex after a joke. It immediately caught his attention though, and Graham smiled at her.

They both loosened up after that, staying until the bottle of wine they ordered was finished. Emma drank more than her fair share, knowing that Graham still had to drive home. She was still pleasantly buzzed when he dropped her off, making sure to walk her to the door.

There was a moment. A silly joke that resulted in Emma grabbing his arm as she unlocked the door. She hadn’t seen it coming. He leaned in and kissed her. His lips tasting of the chocolate cake they’d shared at dinner.

She froze.

Graham pulled back, taking a moment to study her.

“Emma, what’re we doing here?”

“What do you want to be doing here?” She did her best to sound coy, but the truth was that she was terrified.

If he rejected her, a cloud of humiliation would follow every time she saw him. But if he did want to move forward, she wasn’t sure what she would even be capable of giving him. Lingering glances, hand holding. Those were easy, but eventually he’d want more, and she didn’t know if she could give him that. Not if she couldn’t even let him kiss her.

“I- When I asked you to dinner, I think a small part of me hoped you would say no. Not because you aren’t a lovely person, but it felt inappropriate the minute the words left my lips. You’re one of Ruby’s best friends, or at least you were. And Killian, he still asks David about you all the time.”

Her gaze stayed focused on the small door knob in front of her, unable to make eye contact with the man across from her.

“Well he has no right to.”

“Perhaps not. Look, Emma, I’m not completely sure what happened that night. I mean, I don't know what led to them finding their way into that bathroom together, and I left right after you did. I’ve never brought it up with either of them, but I can tell you that when Killian came into work the next day, he was gutted.”

“What he was , was hungover. That’s all.”

“And you. I could tell how distraught you were. You still love him, don’t you.”

“Why does everyone think that. I’m over him. Have been for a long time.”

His head nodded slightly as his lips pursed, obviously not convinced.

“I think I’m going to take that job. It’s time for me to move on. Ruby, she’s never going to see me as anything more than a friend. I need to let her go. But you. You still have a chance. You just have to decide if you want to take it.”

Graham gave her a quick hug, and she understood it for what it was. A goodbye.

She gave up after that. It was a stupid idea to begin with. Thinking that a few dates would mend all of her broken edges. Emma was beyond repair. A small bout of depression set in. She slept more than usual, ate less. Yelled at August for everything, even things that weren’t his fault.

It all came to a head just before Thanksgiving. Emma was spoiling for a fight, and August took the brunt of her wrath. Spouting useless quotes like they were the elixir of life.

"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living."

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

They’d been going at it for the better part of an hour, and Emma was at the end of her tether.

“You’re not living, Emma. You’re just existing.”

“That’s crap and you know it.”

“Hardly. You run from everything. What kind of life is that? Did you even really let Killian in?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you really let him in. Or did you keep him at arm's length too, telling him half truths about yourself? God, Emma. You keep talking about how he cheated on you, but you weren’t even together!”

“Out.”

August was shocked, not expecting her to kick him out. Especially not in the middle of the night, carrying all of his belongings in a garbage bag. He pleaded with her to let him stay, just until he could find a place, but she was done. She was done listening to people telling her how to live her life. Done listening to people reminding her of all of her flaws. She was just done.

He left her with one parting thought.

“It’s so easy to hide behind those walls of yours. To block out pain and disappointment. The inevitable betrayal of those who were meant to care about you. And I know you think you’re protecting yourself from heartache, but all you’ve really done is to block out love. A life without love, well what’s the point of living?”

She slept through the holiday. A small bottle of tequila had ensured that. She called Mary Margaret the day before, telling her she was going out of town for work, then turned her phone off. Then she drank. She drank until the small bottle was empty, trying to drown out the sharp pain August’s words had caused. To drown out the look on Killian’s face on New Year’s Day. The sound of Ruby’s voice screaming his name. She drank until there was nothing.

The next day brought with it the worst hangover of Emma’s life. She slept all of Thanksgiving and most of Black Friday away. When she finally woke, it was to a pounding headache and a queasy stomach. So much so that she had to bolt for the bathroom, not even making it to the toilet before she heaved what little stomach content she had remaining in the sink.

She slid down to the tile floor where she continued to dry heave for the rest of the night. The sun rose hours before she finally felt human enough to crawl back into bed. Emma woke again five hours later, still sick, but extremely thirsty. Her body hated her. When she forced herself to trudge into the kitchen for a glass of water, she realized what had woken her.

Mary Margaret was hard as work cleaning out the contents of her fridge and washing dishes to make room for the full tupperware bowls she’d brought up.

“I have got to get that lock changed.”

Her friend jumped, clearly not having expected anyone to be home. Emma lied, telling her that she’d come down with a stomach flu, forcing her to return to Boston early. In an effort to help, Mary Margaret set to cooking up some chicken noodle soup for Emma. The latter tried her hardest not to vomit again at the smell, forcing down small bites as her own personal chef watched her with eager mother hen eyes.

Another two weeks passed before Emma realized that she’d be spending the next set of holidays alone as well. David’s mother was too old to travel but desperately wanted to be with them and baby Leo for Christmas. They agreed to travel to her house in New Hampshire, but Mary Margaret was insistent that they would be back in time for their annual New Year’s party.

Seeing the reluctance in Emma’s eyes, Mary Margaret was quick to add that Killian wouldn’t be there that year. He already had plans elsewhere.

So Christmas came and went. Emma spent the day watching old holiday movies and eating Chinese food, but abstained from drinking any eggnog or other alcohol filled beverage. In summation, it sucked. It was the first time she’d spent Christmas alone since college, and as the loneliness set in, August’s words echoed through her head.

Or did you keep him at arm's length too?

It’s so easy to hide behind those walls of yours.

Without love, well what’s the point of living?

Perhaps he’d been right. She’d pushed away everyone. She was so afraid that everyone would leave her, that she stopped letting them in. And in the end, she was all alone with only herself to blame.

New Year’s came in spectacular fashion. David said they’d barely made it home in time. The storm of the century was apparently bearing down on the city. Only a handful of their invited guests managed to make it to the party. Ones that lived within walking distance. The rest chose to stay put, bundled in the warmth and safety of their own homes. Even Ruby had called off, telling them she was staying with her boyfriend, much to Emma’s relief. The two women still hadn’t spoken since Emma’s verbal lashing of Ruby’s life choices. When the realization hit that her boyfriend could very easily be Killian, she did her best to push the thought to the back of her mind.

The windows sounded as if they were going to buckle from the wind pounding at them. Snow continued to pile up. Emma watched from the door by the balcony, unable to step outside. Eventually Mary Margaret came to join her in watching the storm.

“Well it looks like you lucked out.”

Emma tilted her head, not understanding her friends words.

“The storm I mean. I had this guy I wanted to introduce you to. He’s in insurance. Anyway, he couldn’t make it because of the storm. And I just know how much you love my set up attempts.”

“If you know how much I hate them, then why do you keep pushing these losers on me?”

Mary Margaret chuckled.

“The word loser is arbitrary. But honestly, I just want you to be happy. You’ve been alone for so long now, and I know without a little push, that you’ll never put yourself out there.”

Emma swallowed, taking a deep breath before asking the question that had bothered her for nearly two years.

“Why did you set Killian up with Ruby.”

“Hmm?”

“Mary Margaret. Every year you pick out this guy who I have nothing in common with. Men who I don’t even find attractive. They’re just strays you took in. So why did you set Killian up with Ruby, and me with Jefferson? Why didn’t you think I was good enough for him?”

“Oh, Emma.” Her friend moved in and wrapped her arms around her shoulders in a sideways embrace. “Because, I knew that if I had, you never would have given him a chance. You would have rolled your eyes and shunned him out of spite.”

Emma wanted to argue, but the truth was that’s exactly what would have happened. She would have run as far away from him as possible. Fat lot of good it had done her in the end though. She may have run, but at least her heart wouldn’t have cracked in two.

“There’s been an accident.”

Emma barely heard him over the music and dull conversation noise. She turned just in time to see David climb on top of the coffee table.

“Everyone. I’m sorry but there’s been an accident. One of our friends was hurt. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to cut this party short.”

There was confusion. People trying to guess what happened as they collected their coats. Most people assumed that it had something to do with David’s mother. Mary Margaret tried to ask him what had happened, but he only shook his head, waiting until all of their guests had gone. Only the three of them and baby Leo asleep in the next room remained.

“It’s Killian. He filled in for Lance tonight. Belle went into labor this afternoon so Killian took his shift. I guess he was doing a routine traffic stop and a drunk guy slammed into him. The witnesses told Smee that the driver didn’t even try to stop.”

The world stood still. No sounds, no smells. No light. Everything ceased in that moment.

“Oh, David.” There was a tremble to her friends voice. One she’d never heard before in their decade-long friendship.

“They’re taking him to Mass Gen. That’s all I know.”

Emma stood in her place, unmoving as her friends moved in tandem, packing a bag for baby Leo, changing into warmer clothes. They were out the door before the shock fully set in, and Emma moved on autopilot, cleaning the apartment until it sparkled.

Hours passed as Emma tossed and turned in her bed unable to sleep.

There’s been an accident.

David’s words played on repeat in her mind. A broken record with a scratch. An imperfection magnified. She’d never even told him that she loved him. And now it might be too late. She couldn’t take it anymore, not even bothering to change out of her pajamas. The snow continued to pummel the city. Her Mini Cooper no match for the feet of snow. Even with the city constantly plowing the streets, the snow was too much. She managed to get halfway to the hospital before she spun out, crashing into an embankment, burying half of her car in a wall of white.

Dazed, she was forced to crawl into the back seat, using the force of her legs to kick the door open. She was determined to get the the hospital, even is she had to walk the remaining three miles.

For once though, luck was on her side. A black car pulled up beside her, and just as she was getting ready to tell the driver to get lost, ignoring the way her body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold, she heard it. His voice.

“Hey kid. You’re gonna get yourself killed out here. You know that?”

She heard the locking mechanism shift and immediately climbed inside, hugging Mullins for dear life.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Eh, with the storm they needed all hands on deck. Trust me, it’s a one time thing.”

He shifted the car back into drive. She didn’t tell him where she was going. Didn’t have to. There was no way he’d missed the call over his radio. He did speak, giving her the time she needed to think. When he dropped her off at the entrance to the emergency room, he told her that he’d work on getting her car towed out of the snow ditch. That was it. No words of wisdom. No platitudes. Nothing.

The emergency room was mania. People who’d hurt themselves while drunk. More victims of car accidents. A guy who fell on the ice. It was a madhouse with people everywhere. She looked around for her friends, but couldn’t find them anywhere. In desperation, she slipped through the double doors separating the waiting room from the trauma area, making her way to the nurses’ station.

“May I help you?”

“Ya, I’m- I’m looking for a guy. His name is Jones. He was brought in a few hours ago from a car accident.”

The person at the desk typed away at her computer, seemingly oblivious to Emma’s anguish.

“K. Jones?”

“Yes.”

“Are you family.”

Emma didn’t hesitate, telling the woman quite emphatically that she was.

“He’s in surgery right now. Take a seat in the waiting area and I’ll have someone come out and update you as soon as they know more.”

It wasn’t good enough. She wanted to see him, but the very burly security guard had other ideas, personally escorting Emma back to the waiting area. She found one lone empty seat in the corner at the back of the room. She sat there for ages, waiting for word as the number of people waiting with her dwindled. There were no signs of Mary Margaret or David and she wondered if something happened to them. If they'd become stuck too. Unfortunately, she’d left her phone in her car and had no way to contact them.

More time passed. She watched as the clock ticked past five in the morning with still no word. Finally, the double doors opened and a tired looking man in green scrubs emerged, heading straight towards Emma.

“Jones family?”

Emma nodded her head. Words caught in her throat.

“Mr. Jones has sustained substantial trauma. His still in surgery right now. As I said, his injuries are severe. I won’t beat around the bush with you. They’re doing everything they can, but are you aware of Mr. Jones’s wishes?”

“Excuse me?”

The doctor took a deep breath.

“Is Mr. Jones an organ donor?”

“I- uh- I have no idea.”

The doctor nodded, telling her that he needed to return to surgery.

As a child, Emma had witnessed the single most traumatizing moment of her life. She and her mother had been on vacation in South Carolina. Her aunts were supposed to join them, but the news had predicted that there was a chance of a hurricane landing on their doorstep. Ingrid watched the news, tracking the storm for two days. The hurricane shifted south, and they thought they’d be fine so they stayed, playing on the beach all day.

The tides turned though, and the hurricane came in that night. Emma, not realizing how dangerous it was, ran to the doors, opening them so she could watch the storm come in. Ingrid ran to her, scooping her out of the way just as a palm tree fell in her place, shattering all of the glass in the door.

The wind picked up, and Ingrid cradled Emma in her arms, shielding her from the waves of rain coming through the open doorway. Ingrid tried to stand up, to move into another room, but the wind was too strong, knocking her back down with Emma still in her arms.

Emma couldn’t see anything, her face tucked into her mother’s cheek. But as a particularly harsh gust came, Emma heard her mother cry out, and her arms loosened their grip. Emma looked up to see her mother’s eyes lifeless. She cried and screamed, begging for Ingrid to wake up. Pointless. The storm passed, as did the only family Emma had.

Emma had always blamed herself, holding on to that memory. Never telling a single soul except Killian.

It wasn’t your fault, Emma.

That’s what he’d told her that night in her Mini Cooper. Yet, she still couldn’t help blaming herself anyway.

Losing Ingrid the way that she had had been traumatizing. But sitting there in the back of the waiting room, all alone waiting to hear whether or not Killian was going to survive, well that was somehow worse. The clock passed six, and finally sleep overtook her. The adrenaline of the night finally wearing off.

She dreamed of him. Of him sitting next to her on the couch, watching a movie as they had so many times before. Of him grabbing her shoulder. Of him calling her name in a whisper.

“Swan?”

Emma’s eyes were heavy as she fought off the call of sleep.

“Swan?” The voice repeated.

With all of the force her body would allow, Emma pried her eyes open, stunned by what she saw before her.

“How? How are you here?”

“What do you mean, love?” She could tell by the low timber of his voice that he was hesitant to speak to her.

Emma sat up straight, grabbing his face, checking for wounds. Aside from his hand in a bandage, nothing appeared to be wrong, and she questioned whether she was actually awake or not.

“They said you were in surgery. That-” she felt tears spilling over. “They said you weren’t going to make it. Wanted to know if you were an organ donor.”

Killian pulled back, his mouth pulled tight. He stood from where he was crouched in front of her, tugging her up in the process. He pulled her back through the same double doors she’d snuck through earlier, demanding to know why someone had told Emma that he was dying.

“Sir, the information we gave her was accurate.” The woman turned to help someone else, completely ignorant of the way she’d turned Emma’s life upside down. Emma was ready to snap at her, but when she caught Killian’s eye, she noticed his jaw flexing.

“And you asked for me? Killian?

“Uh, I think. Yes. No. I mean, I asked for Jones, and she asked if it was a K. Jones.”

A smattering of pink tinging his cheeks.

“Ah, I think I see where we’ve gone wrong.”

Emma looked at him. Confusion settling into her blood, cooling the anger she’d just felt.

“You see, Jones is a fairly common name, love. The drunk driver from tonight, his name was Kevin Jones. He hit the car I’d stopped head on. Clipped my hand in the process.”

Emma wasted no time pulling him in for a kiss. It was nothing like she’d expected. His lips were chapped and rough. Unmoving. He tasted of stale hospital coffee. And she’d caught him off guard. Still, even with all of that, it was perfect in its own way. Even if his watch did manage to catch on her hair as he grabbed the back of her head with more force than necessary, finally coming to his senses.

He drove her home that night, calling to check in on David along the way. They’d only made it about a mile from the apartment before they realized that the storm was too bad, turning around and waiting on word from Smee. Luckily, in the time since the accident the storm had passed. She looked for her car on the way, hoping that Mullins had succeeded in towing it back to the station. It took them longer than expected to get home, but Killian had insisted on going slow, not wanting to take a chance with her in the vehicle.

Emma didn’t hesitate to follow Killian to his apartment. Kissing him again once they were inside. He stiffened slightly at her touch, but quickly melted into her. But as she began to pull his shirt up, loosening it from his pants, he stopped her.

“Wait, Swan. Before we go any further, we need to talk. I need to explain what happened.”

“I don’t care. It’s in the past.”

“Perhaps, but I care. I don’t want to start anything with this lingering between us. I want to clear the air.”

It was the last thing Emma wanted to discuss. She’d already gone through enough that night. She didn’t need to relive his fling with Ruby as well. She sat next to him on the couch anyway though. Fatigue taking over.

“That night, I’d just finished getting ready for the party when I heard a knock. Naturally I thought it was you or my brother coming back upstairs for something, so I opened the door without checking the peephole. But when the door opened, it was Milah on the other side. She told me that she’d finally left her husband and that she wanted me back. And then she kissed me. I wanted to push her off but it was so unexpected. I was frozen, stuck in time while the rest of the world kept speeding around me.”

Emma waited until he was ready to continue.

“When I came to my senses, I pushed her away and told her that it was too late. That I had already moved on. That I was happy with someone else. I was so upset after seeing her that I went inside and had a glass of rum to calm my nerves, but one glass turned into two, and then three.”

She couldn’t look at him. She understood. She’d have done the same thing if she’d seen Neal or Walsh. But now that he’d opened Pandora’s box, she couldn’t help but remember all of the pain she’d felt for the last year. That his poor choices had led to it.

“So that’s when you came to the party. That’s when you found her. After you’d had all the rum?”

His head tilted as he watched her. The confusion apparent in the way his eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Emma, what are you talking about? “

“Last year.”

The words nearly caught in her through as the image of that night played through her head once more. He’d been pissed and drank too much. Understandable, yet somehow it didn’t help to ease any of the pain she still felt.

I never made it to the party last year.”

“Yes you did!”

“Love. I assure you that I never left my apartment that night.”

She studied him. His eyes never left hers. His hands never twitched. No signs of a lie.

“Emma, did you actually see me ? Hear my voice?”

“But, Graham, he said he saw you with Ruby. Saw your- I heard it. She screamed out your last name for God’s sake.”

Killian barked out a laugh, much to Emma’s consternation.

“Swan. I wasn’t the only Jones in the building that night you know.”

He waited, as the gears turned in her head.

“Liam?”

As I said before, love, it is a rather common name.”

#csjj #csjanuaryjoy #a rather common name #cs fanfic #csjj 2019

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illionoisprelawland-blog · 4 years ago

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The Law School Admission Test

By Brian Uhler, University of Chicago Class of 2021

August 7, 2020

The Law School Admission Test, or “LSAT”, is a test created by LSAC (the Law School Admission Council) designed to test a candidate’s aptitude for the type of thinking necessary for lawyers and to predict the success of students entering law school. This is similar to the medical school admission test, the Medical College Admission Test (MCAT), among other standardized tests used for entrance to graduate schools. As a standardized test, the LSAT is considered the universal standard for ABA-accredited law schools and Canadian law schools.(1) In fact, the LSAT is generally considered to be the most important part of an applicant’s profile, sometimes even thought to be twice as important as an applicant’s undergraduate GPA! (7) But what exactly does the LSAT do to test thinking skills and predict law school success?

To understand the current methods used by the LSAT to test candidates, it is necessary to understand the test’s history and evolution. Standardized testing for assessing applicants for schools began in the early 20th century; before standardized testing, schools would have individual, distinct admissions tests or have none at all. In 1901, the College Entrance Examination Board was founded with the goal of creating a universal standardized test. Then, in 1926, the SAT was introduced as a test for college aptitude, and this test is now one of the world’s most widely taken standardized tests. (3) This new trend in standardized testing was quickly picked up by law schools, as they too wanted a way to screen candidates before entry to their schools. Early admissions tests for law school were fairly unused due to their similarity to general intelligence tests, but in the 1940s, the first (and now essentially only) test developed to specifically test for legal aptitude and predict success in law school was administered: the LSAT. The test originally was comprised of 10 sections and would take an entire day to complete, mostly testing passive verbal skills. (3) However, it has since evolved into the form it takes today, a shorter test with fewer sections that still tests the critical skills of a future law student. But how can these skills be tested; how could a single test adequately display a candidate’s ability to think in the way required of lawyers and predict success in law school?

Since its evolution from its early beginnings, the LSAT has changed from a 10-section test to one with six sections, each with a time limit of 35 minutes, scored on a scale of 120-180. However, there are only four types of sections; Logical Reasoning, Reading Comprehension, Analytical Reasoning (commonly referred to as “logic games”), and Writing. On the traditional, current LSAT, there is one section on Writing and five other sections comprised of the remaining three types – two Logical Reasoning sections, one Reading Comprehension section, and one Analytical reasoning section, and then a fifth section that could be any one of these three types. (2)This fifth section is unscored and is used by the creators of the LSAT to create future tests. However, the test-taker has no knowledge of which section is the unscored section, so he or she must earnestly attempt all of them.

Nowadays, students may take the Writing section remotely from the comfort of their own homes on the LSAC’s website. An LSAT Writing section typically poses a situation in which two choices are given, and then some facts are given that could be used as pros or cons of either choice. Then, the test taker must use these facts to argue for one of the two choices. The remaining three types of sections are all multiple-choice with five possible answer choices, rather than a free response style like on Writing. In Logical Reasoning sections, test takers are given roughly 25 questions to answer – each question contains a few sentences that form an argument or a set of facts, and these are followed by a question such as “which of these answers would Strengthen this argument”, or perhaps “given the statements made, which of these answers must also be true?” This section, as named, quite literally tests a person’s ability to logically reason. On the Reading Comprehension section, test takers are given four reading passages each about a page long. They are then asked various questions about each passage, with questions such as “which of these answers is the main point of the passage”, or, “with which of these statements is the author of the passage most likely to agree?” This section tests a person’s ability to understand a point of view, retain the relevant information, and quickly apply it to questions. Finally, the Analytical Reasoning section, more often called “logic games”, contains four “games” in which there exists a situation and a set of rules that govern the possibilities of the situation, and then questions are asked about the game. For example, a logic game may arise that specifies that there are seven people, people A-G, and each works one day per week with nobody working on the same day. Then, some rules may specify that person A works on Monday, person B can’t work on Tuesday, person C must work on Sunday if person D works on Wednesday, and so on. After these rules there are questions, such as, “if person B works on Thursday, then who must work on Saturday?” This tests a person’s analytical skills and ability to quickly process information. However, logic games typically require a person to draw out some diagrams to help keep track of all of the information and examine the possibilities, and this has recently posed a problem for some test takers.

A recent court case brought against LSAC by a blind student has made waves in the LSAT community. Law school hopeful Angelo Binno, a legally blind student, wanted LSAC to waive the Analytical Reasoning section from his test because he was unable to draw the diagrams that are essentially necessary for success on the section. LSAC refused, and Binno filed a lawsuit claiming that LSAC was in violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act. LSAC agreed to gradually remove the Analytical Reasoning section of the test, and by 2023 they will have developed a new way to test a person’s analytical reasoning skills. (4)

As well as this recent occurrence resulting in a fairly drastic change to the test, the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic has forced LSAC to adapt how it administers the test during (at least) this year. Currently, LSAC is offering what they call the LSAT-Flex, a remotely proctored version of the same test. (5)On this test, rather than five sections taken in person with at least two Logical Reasoning sections, at least one Reading Comprehension section, and at least one Analytical Reasoning section, the LSAT-Flex has three total sections – one of each of these types. Otherwise, the test is the same: it features the same types of questions and the same amount of questions per section. Some may be concerned that the remote proctoring system will allow for cheating on the test, but there are two factors that substantially reduce this possibility. First of all, the proctoring system used for the LSAT-Flex is not only simply to proctor, it was specifically designed to stop cheating. Secondly, and more importantly, the LSAT is an extraordinarily difficult test to cheat on. Unlike many other tests, the LSAT is not a knowledge-based test, it is a thinking-based test; there is no book a person can open up that will tell him or her the answers. The LSAT-Flex has been a relatively successful test so far – the tests scheduled for March and April were cancelled while LSAC created the LSAT-Flex, and since then, Flex tests have been offered in May, June, July, and another one scheduled for late August.(5)

However, while LSAC did a respectable job of adapting their test to the recent pandemic, no plan is foolproof. On the recent July LSAT-Flex, a glitch in the system while transferring tester information caused the answers of about 140 testers to get lost. (6) LSAC has refunded these testers the money required to take the test and has offered them a free retake exam. While this issue was not widespread (affecting only 140 of 14,000 test takers, about 1%), it is still a frustrating occurrence for those affected. However, given how rare of an issue this was, we can hope that the test takers are able to take the test as soon as possible and that the LSAT continues to evolve and improve to be the best standardized test for law schools that LSAC can make.

________________________________________________________________

(1)“Law School Admission Test LSAT: The Law School Admission Council.” Law School Admission Test LSAT | The Law School Admission Council, www.lsac.org/lsat.

(2)“Types of LSAT Questions.” The Law School Admissions Council (LSAC), www.lsac.org/lsat/prep/types lsatquestions#:~:text=The%20LSAT% 20is%20administered%20in,and%20two%20logical%20reasoning%20sections.

(3)“History of the LSAT.” Manhattan Review, 16 Apr. 2020, www.manhattanreview.com/lsat-history/.

(4)Turner, Samuel. “LSAT Removes Logic Games Section.” Yale Daily News LSAT Removes Logic Games Section Comments, 14 Oct. 2019, yaledailynews.com/blog/2019/10/14/lsat-removes-logic-games-section/#:~:text=Following%20a%20settlement%20last%20week,include%20the%20analytical%20reasoning%20section.&text=In%20response%2C%20LSAC%20and%20the,removal%20of%20the%20logic%20games.

(5)“Introducing LSAT-Flex.” The Law School Admission Council, www.lsac.org/update-coronavirus-and-lsat/lsat-flex.

(6)Sloan, Karen. “Ooops! LSAT Scores Lost Amid Tech Failure.” Law.com, 30 July 2020,www.law.com/2020/07/30/ooops-lsat-scores-lost-amid-tech-failure/.

(7)Jones, Evan, et al. “How Important Is The LSAT?” LawSchooli, 4 Feb. 2019,lawschooli.com/how-important-is-the-lsat/.

Photo Credit: LSAC

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