#vdruig

[fadedseas]

inconsistent flowers: part v

Druig x Makkari

Part 5 of __: hyacinths

Tags: Flower Shop AU, Modern AU, No Powers, Canon Divergence

Summary: Druig is a cantankerous flower shop owner trying to get through his day. Makkari just wanted flowers for her new apartment. Or the flower shop AU no one asked for.

Chapter Summary: Those had been the early days, of course. The days before her mother signed her up for local marathons and running clubs, before she had actually started performing well, before the local papers began to run her name as frequently as the latest reality star disaster, before Thena had scouted her from one of her races. 

or Makkari remembers.

TW: cursing; traumatic injury

Word count: 3762

A/N: Hello readers!! It's feels amazing to post again! This chapter took a while because a bunch of life stuff happened, and it was just particularly hard for me to figure out a way to tell Makkari's story. It was just one of those chapters that I had to write slowly, piece by piece. But hopefully, you'll enjoy a deep dive into Makkari's head!

Makkari could remember when running was as familiar as breathing.

Footsteps on leaf-strewn ground, breaking through the morning fog, back straight and the sweet scent of the broadleaf forest easing the tightness in her lungs. She could close her eyes and remember it all. Sometimes, if she thought hard enough, she could smell her mother’s homemade samoon with strawberry jam that was always waiting for her after her morning runs.

Those had been the early days, of course. The days before her mother signed her up for local marathons and running clubs, before she had actually started performing well, before the local papers began to run her name as frequently as the latest reality star disaster, before Thena had scouted her from one of her races.

“You were holding back.”

Makkari quickly wiped her mouth from her long pull of her water bottle, trying not to wince at the taste of the salt tablet she had dropped inside. She raised an eyebrow at the tall, elegant woman in front of her that had just signed to her in perfect BSL.

“What are you talking about?” She signed. She really wasn’t in the mood to speak to any local reporters. She already had to do her cool-off exercises and then, she was looking forward to a night with her mum on the couch watching terrible reality television.

“You’re a sprinter. You use every ounce of muscle and energy to get over that finish line. Nothing should be in reserve. But you didn’t. You’re still standing. I’ve seen runners nearly cough up their lungs after a race. You finished second - why?”

Makkari shrugged, throwing on her windbreaker, “I don’t know. Suppose it just wasn’t my day.”

The woman stared at her with her unnaturally pale eyes. It made Makkari want to fidget but she held herself still. She didn’t know who this woman was yet, but she already knew that now was not the time to show discomfort.

“What do you want to do with this?”

“What do you mean?"

“I mean - is this merely a hobby for you? A way to pass the time? How much do you love running? Are you willing to dedicate your life to it? I’ve seen runners with natural talent like yours that allow it to ebb away. You’re bored - I can see that. It’s difficult to give it all when there’s seemingly no point. So, I’ll ask again - what do you want to do with this?”

Makkari straightened, “That depends…what can you do for me?”

The woman smiled at her, and Makkari got the feeling that she had somehow impressed her. “I’m Thena Eliot, and I’m interested in taking you on as my student.”

Makkari knew that name vaguely. It had been recited with reverence by Team GB’s former Olympic stars, been mired with admiration by sports commentators, been written in high esteem by nationwide papers. Thena Eliot. Creator of Olympics Legends. She had always lived out of the public eye, not bothering to do any interviews or television appearances. And now she was standing here, in front of Makkari.

“Why aren’t you asking Anna?” Makkari signed quickly, referring to the first place winner.

Thena smiled, “Anna is currently coughing her lungs out. You aren’t,” she signed simply.

Thena had introduced her to another level of athletics that she had never realized she was capable of. Everything in her life suddenly narrowed down to lists of numbers: records of her times for her dashes, calories eaten at every meal, practices times before the sunrise and long after its fall. Her life became a regimented routine to be strictly followed if she even had a prayer of competing at the top.

But at the same time, she could feel herself grow stronger. Her muscles were leaner and stronger. The restless twitching she felt during the day was directed entirely into her running. She became faster. Better.

Makkari realized that running wasn’t just a hobby to her; it never was. But it was no longer about local races now or winning against her schoolmates. Now, she had something she was running towards. Now it wasn’t just her innate talent that was pulling her through. It was Thena’s cool analytical assessments that translated to firm direction that she signed to Makkari at the end of all of their practices.

And it was Makkari herself.

Her skill. Her power. It was an exhilarating feeling on the track, to feel the movement of her limbs as she felt like she could outrun anything. As she began to win bigger and bigger races, it became something that she had finally allowed herself to want. Badly.

Bigger races also mean that people begin to take notice. It’s a sweet human interest story, Makkari supposed, of the nice, middle-class deaf girl that was bound for the Olympics. Thena had encouraged the attention and morning news appearances, it never hurts to have supporters on your side going into the qualifiers, she had signed.

The qualifiers…afterwards, she had looked it up on the internet. It was something that just happened sometimes, especially to competitive runners. She could barely remember what happened other than the feeling of her ankle suddenly giving out. The slam of the ground against her body. And then pain. Piercing through her consciousness until it was the only thing she could be aware of. She opened her mouth in a silent scream as her chest heaved with her inability to breathe.

Warm hands gently grabbed her and supported her weight as she was half dragged and half lifted off of the field. She could vaguely remember seeing Thena’s stoic calmness and her mother’s horrified expression as they ran behind her. She could barely discern where she was going due to the frequent flashes of cameras pressing in on her at all sides, all eager to rip off a piece of her shattered dreams. Falling into unconscious darkness after that was a blessing.

Makkari winced as the intense fluorescents pierced her vision. She gasped as memories of the race - the fall - she still needed to finish it. Makkari jerked upright, ripping the blanket off of her body before a cool hand caught her arm.

“Calm down,” Thena signed, pressing her gently back into bed.

“What about the qualifiers? I still need to -”

“The qualifiers are over, khoshgelam,” her mother signed, and smoothed down her hair as she bent over on the other side of her bed, “you fell. You’re in hospital - but you’re alright.”

“No - no, I need to - I need to -” Makkari glanced around, coherent thought crumbling into panic. She tried to swing her legs over the end and gasped in pain.

“You need to lay back down before you pull out your IV,” Thena signed firmly, staring at her with unnaturally pale eyes that held a startlingly blankness.

“What happened?”

“You fell, and you tore your ACL and your meniscus. Your doctor is going to be here shortly; but she wants to recommend reconstruction surgery. Do you understand, Makkari? There’s nothing to do at this moment. It’s done.”

Makkari’s head spun. She was trembling too hard to even sign as she tried to connect loose memories of the event together. She had grown used to the feeling of knowing her body, being precise with each of her movements and steps - but she had never felt more out of control. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother press a button.

“Just rest,” her mother signed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Makkari wanted to scream, and writhe and do anything to leave this hospital bed where she felt so completely helpless and stranded in this sea of ignorance and pity. The question rolled around in her head as she gave into the sinking darkness: what am I now? What am I now?

Makkari turned around in bed, huffing in the darkness of her bedroom. It had been a while since she had felt that panic like a black, writhing mess that tumbled to her throat, threatening to choke her. Her mother had put Makkari in therapy soon after the fall. Makkari closed her eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Martin had told her.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

You’re safe.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

Nothing is going to hurt you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

She could sense a difference in light that made her open her eyes. Sersi had poked her head in, studying her with a concerned, furrowed brow.

Are you ok? She circled her thumb in front of her.

No. Makkari’s expression fell, tears welling in her eyes.

Sersi rushed into the room, Did he hurt you? She ended her sentence, pointing at Makkari fiercely.

No. Makkari signed again, There was a man…taking photos.

She didn’t need to say anymore. Sersi knew it all. Makkari had accidently hit her in the head with a spade in primary school during a gardening excursion, and Sersi had been there ever since: through her training, through the fall and the subsequent panic attacks and days in which Makkari failed to leave her bed, through her surgery to repair her ACL and the painful physical therapy afterwards, through the swaths of reporters and crowds that wanted a glimpse of the fallen Olympic star. She knew it all.

Sersi’s expression softened. She didn’t say another word. She just proceeded to climb over Makkari in her bed, shifting to make herself comfortable as Makkari nestled against her. Makkari closed her eyes, letting Sersi’s warmth comfort her. She remembered Druig’s arms around her earlier that night and the safety she felt as the humming in her muscles and head quieted finally. But the security in Sersi’s embrace was a different one - one built on years of sisterhood, but just as safe.

So how did the impromptu date go otherwise? Sersi lifted her hands to sign.

It was…good, then great…then disastrous.

Real Hemingway here - sparing us the word count.

Despite the dread that still lingered, Makkari laughed. No, excluding the end of it, it was all…so…beautifully real. Druig was just - her fingers faltered as she remembered their interactions during their date and the striking vulnerability he had exhibited before their kiss. He’s more than what he seems. More than what he thinks he is.

So are you. Sersi signed.

Makkari huffed in discomfort, the sound seemingly echoing in the quiet.

Are you really going to stop running? Sersi asked.

Makkari shifted herself up against her headboard, I’m running now.

Sersi pulled herself up to meet Makkari’s gaze. Not like you used to. You used to live and breathe to run, Makkari. You’ve been running your entire life, how long are you going to force yourself to stand still?

Makkari grimaced at the memory of her first run post-physical therapy. The paralyzing fear every time she set her foot down on the pavement. She had moved from the speed of light to a comparatively slow crawl. A traumatic stress reaction, her therapist had called it.

Makkari shrugged, Maybe there’s room for something new now. She grinned, Like studying old artifacts and creepy crawly things in the dark, She twirled her index finger, poking it threateningly in Sersi’s direction.

Sersi rolled her eyes, playfully smacking Makkari’s hand away, Or hot flower shop owners?

It was Makkari’s turn to roll her eyes as she slid down her headboard, extremely aware that she likely looked like a petulant child.

Sersi chuckled at her before her face settled. I'm glad that there’s room for new things, but you don’t have to stop loving the old things either.

Makkari nodded pensively until Sersi’s expression turned mischievous.

So…were his lips petal-soft? She aggressively fluttered her eyelashes.

Makkari cackled, Jesus Sersi - when did you turn into such a cheeseball?

C’mon! Studying dead animals and plants can get so boring! Give me something!

Makkari giggled, He had nice…biceps. She shrugged, lowering her hand from her arm. She hadn’t allowed herself to reflect on the date until now, when the adrenaline had worn off and she had a minute to relax. We had fish and chips. Walked by the river. It was… Makkari suppressed a grin at the memory of the kiss.

A chippy on a first date? You’re a cheap date, Makkari.

Makkari snorted. Despite herself, she couldn’t help her smile.

*

Druig hadn’t seen Makkari for a week.

It wasn’t the longest Druig had gone without seeing her. But her absence was frighteningly noticeable to him.

It hadn’t taken him long to fend off the annoying drunk. After a perfunctuory, fuck off asshole, and another shove to his shoulder, the man had lowered his phone with a disappointed grimace and scuttered off.

Druig had stared after him for a moment, enduring that he was truly gone. He turned around, with questions on his lips that transitioned to curses when he noticed that she was gone. He had wandered around the area for a few hours afterwards, worried that she had gotten sick somewhere or that something horrible had happened to her. It wasn’t until he felt a buzz in his pocket that he silently cursed himself for not thinking of texting her sooner.

Ironically it was Makkari’s message that alerted him: Home safe. I’m sorry.

He had seen the video. He had searched it up in an act of desperate confusion before he went to bed that night. It was both horrifyingly beautiful and painful to watch. Makkari’s fluid sprint with her dark hair against the red of the track grounds was poetry in motion. And then the stumble - and then the fall - He felt himself wince as the blur of red slammed into the floor, her inertia tumbling her forward.

“Oh and the Female Flash has fallen,” the annoying voice of the sports announcer blared from his phone, documenting Makkari’s misery, “she’s currently lying on the track right now - grabbing her ankle - it looks like she’s in quite a lot of pain. I’ll remind you lot at home that Makkari Khari was a favorite to go on to the Olympics, rising from humble beginnings. But from the looks of it, her dreams are not in jeopardy. What a shame.”

He watched her crumpled form try to stand with the assistance of two other people, her face twisted in agony. He watched the defeated slump on her shoulders as she limped off the track and into the depths of the stadium.

Druig had never felt his heart break for another until that very moment.

Kingo had noticed the Druig’s recent quietness that week, finally cornering him in the backroom. He parted the sea of purple hyacinth blooms that Druig was holding to reveal his face. Druig’s face blanched when he saw Kingo.

“What happened?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. Your crabby pouts has reached critical levels,” Kingo narrowed his eyes and poked Druig’s left cheek, “it’s like working with Grumpy Cat, but human.”

Druig rolled his eyes, “Well right now, I’m worried about these hyacinths for Mrs. Grady’s order.”

“Ok so I know you’ve got the whole ‘strong but silent’ type thing going on - but I’d like to think of us as friends. And as your friend and employee, I’m somewhat invested in your emotional wellbeing. So what is it? Is it Ms. Track Star? She hasn’t been in for a while.”

“So you know?”

“The internet is a wonderful invention, Druig. So what is it? Are you not into jocks?” Kingo straightened, “If this is about her accident -”

“Yes - no -” Druig sighed and put the flowers down on a wooden bench nearby, “...the way I feel about Makkari - I just don’t know what to do or say - I’m pretty shit at this. I want to text her, but I delete my messages before I send them - and I - I just want her to be ok,” he finished lamely.

Kingo studied the discomfort on Druig’s face. God, Druig was so lucky that he was here to help. “That’s not something to be embarrassed about. You wouldn’t be reacting like this if you didn’t care about her so much. Lean into the discomfort, my friend. She might just need some time. Sometimes, you don’t even need to say anything at all.”

Druig ran his hand through his hair, nodding.

“Look, at the end of the day - you like her, she seems to like you. Blah, blah, blah - true love conquers all and all that.”

Druig snorted, “Thanks Kingo. I appreciate…your words of wisdom…but you’re still closing today.”

“Always so unappreciated,” Kingo sighed, “But I’m certain we’ll see her soon -” The bell at the store door cut off his sentence, “Twenty quid if that’s her.”

Druig chuckled, “I’ll do two weeks of closing if it’s her.”

“Deal.”

Druig shook his head, picking up the vase of hyacinths. He strolled outside to the front counter. And froze.

Kingo chuckled behind him, “Good luck with those closings.”

Hi! Do you have some time to talk? Makkari uncrossed her wrists, and looked at him hesitantly.

“I can take care of things around here, Boss.” Kingo slapped a hand on Druig’s shoulder.

“Thanks Kingo,” Druig replied. There’s a coffee shop across the street that we can go to, He signed to Makkari.

The short walk to the shop was quiet. He ordered his black coffee and Makkari got a small tea. They sat at a small table that was still slightly sticky with the remnants of someone’s raspberry danish.

Makkari pulled out her phone and began to type, First, I am so so sorry for leaving you like that last week. It was horrible and rude, and definitely not how I pictured our night ending.

Druig shook his head, “There’s nothing to apologize for, Makkari. I’m just glad you made it home safe.”

Still, I shouldn’t have left you. 

Druig shrugged, “I don’t blame you. That guy was a complete twat.”

She chuckled, Well forgive me. For myself if nothing else. 

“How can I resist that? You’re forgiven…for your non-offense.” 

Makkari smiled softly at him, Thank you , she signed. Their eyes met for a moment until she broke away. I’m assuming you know about my fall - you’ve probably seen the footage.

Druig nodded. There was no point in lying to her, and he found that didn’t want to.

I tore my ACL and my meniscus. Had to get reconstructive surgery and go through months of physical therapy afterwards - honestly, that may have felt like more pain and work than training for the Olympics, she swallowed and kept typing, I wasn’t…a great person after that. I was just so sad…and mostly angry all the time. Mum didn’t know what to do. Neither did Phastos or Sersi. I didn’t know either. It was my entire life. They told me I’d probably never be able to run competitively again, not at the level that I was previously.

She wiped her eyes quickly, and Druig took the time to reach forward, over the sticky raspberry residue, and grasp her hand, squeezing it. Makkari looked up at him, and gave him a watery smile. It was gone. All that time, and money, and potential was gone. And then there’s just me left.

“Not the worst thing in the world.”

Makkari laughed quietly, Yea, it took me a while to realize that. She sipped her tea, I moved to London because I just needed a place to figure out what that meant - to just be me. Without the press, or the looks or the disappointment. I hadn’t been anything but the deaf Olympian or the ‘Female Flash’ for a while, she snorted, I absolutely hated that name.

She sighed, glancing at him, I’m still running - or at least trying to. I was considering signing up for the London Marathon in October. But I’ll probably never race again. But now you know it all. I’m just some washed up athlete trying not to flounder under the weight of my own failures.

Druig frowned, “Makkari…I didn’t know who you were then, but you’ve made an entire life for yourself here. I don’t know many people who have the strength to start over like you did. That isn’t nothing. That’s…incredible.” And so are you, he wanted to say.

There was a quiet awe in Druig as he listened to Makkari. Seeing her life’s dreams ripped away so cruelly just to be able to crawl her way back onto her own two feet - literally and metaphorically. He was reminded of a cheesy American saying that he had heard once during an American football game: down never means out. He found it particularly fitting in this situation.

Makkari ducked her head, Thank you, Druig. It means a lot to me that you would say that.

There was a pause in the conversation, as they both processed what they had said. Makkari began typing again, Well, I’ve mucked up our first date. How about a second one to make up for it? Do you want to do dinner at my place? I make a mean penne vodka.

Druig chuckled, “No need to break your back on my account Makkari.” He cleared his throat, “Besides, I was going to ask you out to another dinner regardless.”

Makkari beamed, Well, I guess I beat you to it.

They sat there at the small rickety table with raspberry smear for a little while longer, sipping at their drinks and watching the mist condense into a light drizzle. Makkari’s hand stayed in Druig’s the entire time.

Kingo was right. Sometimes you don’t need to say anything at all.

iv. sunflowers

vi. sunflowers part ii

__________________

A/N: All last names are taken from their aliases from the comics! Also, I wanted to feature Makkari's relationships outside of Druig, particularly with Sersi because I think female friendships are extremely important and valuable and often written most of the time. 

Keep an eye out for more fluff! I want to give these two turkeys more relationship scenes and let it build before more hardcore plot stuff happens!  

Purple hyacinth is the flower most commonly used to symbolize regret: 

As always, let me know what you think!

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@vdruig​     +     closed starter  !

“  mind control is the most boring kind of magic  ,  ”  tim says  —  and okay  ,  maybe it’s kinda dumb to say that to the super powerful magic dude who mind-controlled an entire town for years  ,  but  —  well  .  he wants to make his opinions known  .  also he doesn’t even know if he can be mind-controlled  ,  with all his weird latent magic that doesn’t do what he wants but does go overboard trying to protect him  .  “  you should get a better power  ,  like  ...  i dunno  ,  epic skateboarding skills or something  .  you have the look of a skateboarder  .  ”