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oh-boleyn · 5 years ago

Text

te para tres

words: 3809, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)

author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3

tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness

part one: las tazas sobre el mantel part two: un poco de miel

la lluvia derramada

They take a taxi to the doctor’s office. The cold weather is not helping them to just walk or try any other route.

“Are you going to find out the baby’s gender?”

“Probably not. I want it to be a surprise.” Jane explains. “What do you think they’ll be?”

“I don’t know. I’m not good with guesses. Have you thought about names?”

“I would like to name them after a family member. It’s a family tradition I don’t want to lose.”

“Tell me names.”

“My father’s name is John.”

“Too plain.”

“Margaery.”

“I like it.” Katherine smiles.

“Edward?”

“Yes! It sounds like a prince's name, something out of Disney.” The teenager nods. “Who is Edward?”

“My brother.” Jane states. “He is my confidant, and he is there for me every time I need him.”

“Is he a good person?”

“Yes, he is.”

(…)

At first Katherine refused to search for her family, but she knows that unless waiting until eighteen was a goal, she should contact them, at least to get her job permission signed, or any document that releases them from being their legal guardians.

What she didn’t know was that her cousin, already in her late-twenties, would want to meet her.

She introduces herself as Anne Boleyn, and it would be a lie if Katherine said that she had never heard that name. They look nothing alike. Anne is shorter than her, has pale skin, green eyes and a round face. She is kind, but tense. Katherine can’t decide if she likes her or not.

Anne is way too enthusiastic for Kat’s liking.

Their first meeting goes rather political, but not as family is supposed to be.

Still, they decide to meet again.

(…)

Jane never thought Katherine would love hair dye so much, but now for the second time in a row they were sitting on the bathroom, applying electric pink dye to the girl’s hair. Anna recommended changing brands, mostly to not ruin her hair. Cathy also stepped in suggesting that once a month was an alright amount of time, but that doing it less frequent is better.

Still, Jane buys two boxes. If she can give Katherine a sense of stability, she will. Even if stability means dying her hair the same day every month.

(…)

“I can’t remember baking cookies, like ever.” Katherine comments, breaking an egg.

“You are missing a lot.”

Jane looks bright, like the sun. For the teenager, she looks like the standard picture of some announce. Her blond hair is up in a bun, which is not messy but not immaculate, her blue eyes are sparkling warm. She’s wearing a lose overall, with a yellow shirt. Her bump clearly there.

“Do you bake often?”

“No, not really. I used to, when I was younger.” Jane explains. “Can you measure the sugar? I need a cup.”

“Sure.” Kat moves, doing her task. “Why don’t you? If you love baking so much, you should do it more often.”

“I just don’t have the time.” She takes the flour. “Now I do, but before, living with my ex and college. It was just a lot; I never had the time to do it all.”

“Do you miss it? Your life before?”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Jane smiles. “I have better things now.”

She gives Kat a kiss on the forehead as good as she can give the height difference.

(…)

Living with Katherine is not always easy.

She would zone out from time to time, sometimes almost hurting herself. It was hard for Jane to keep up with her, because the teenager would enter periods of dissociation without previous notice. Other times, her personality would almost change, becoming furious and angry, throwing hateful words at Jane and begging to be back on the street.

But lately, every episode ended up the same, with both of them curling on the sofa watching a movie, until Kat would finally go to sleep.

Jane thought a lot about how her baby is going to be in sixteen years. Most importantly, if her baby will love her. The teenager who was now under her care rarely expressed feelings with words. Judging by how she acted around, the older was sure that they loved each other.

Wondering what could’ve happened if they didn’t meet wasn’t something she was too keen on. Katherine was the person she never knew she needed. Helping her felt so natural, almost like destiny, and Jane couldn’t love her more. The teenager had made her way into Jane’s life, becoming her daughter in all but title.

Jane hopes Katherine will let her be around, wanting nothing more than to see her grow and live the happy life she deserved.

(…)

Jane’s family were visiting, and Katherine felt nervous to the core. She knew how much the older woman loved her siblings, and if they didn’t like Kat, she might kick her out.

It was impossible to think about it, but Katherine knew better than to get too attached, even if Jane was the kindest person to her in a long time, so was Culpeper, and it didn’t mean kind was good.

“How is my little princess?” Jane’s father asks.

He looks like Jane; both share the same blue eyes. The word princess makes Katherine flinch, but she tries to cover her emotions. She toys with the pink dress Aragon gifted her from the spring edition of the magazine, while trying to ignore all the people who get into the restaurant.

“Dad, let me introduce you to Katherine. Kat, they are my father and siblings.”

“Hi, I’m Edward and he is my brother, Thomas.” One of them announces. “And my sisters, Dorothy and Elizabeth.”

Katherine is both glad and nervous none of them try to initiate physical contact, not sure if that was Jane’s recommendation or just their way to let her know she is not welcomed.

“I’m Katherine.” She replies, trying not to sound rude.

“Shall we order? I’m starving.” Jane announces, resting a hand on her stomach.

(…)

“Was her family amicable?” Anne questions.

She picked Katherine from the restaurant, trying to give Jane and her family a moment to themselves.

“Yes, they were kind.” Katherine replied, making herself smaller on the car seat. “She has a brother, Edward. He explained every family detail to me so I wouldn’t get lost when they talked about their extended family.”

Elizabeth was almost asleep on the back of the car, which led to the teenager deciding to ride in the front seat.

“That is nice.”

“They are buying her a new apartment.” Katherine blurs out. “They already did.”

“They must have money.” Anne adds, eyes fixed on the road.

“Yes. It is a three-bedroom apartment, and she asked me to move in with her. Like, living twenty-four seven with her.” Kat continues. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Do you want to?”

That was a real, fair question and Katherine didn’t know the answer.

A part of her wanted nothing more to have the security and protection Jane offered, late nights watching movies, waking up and having breakfast, going back to school, graduating. But she wasn’t sure she was able to do that, if she was destined to have that kind of happy life. The idea that Jane might kick her out any moment was something she couldn’t erase, but still, she decides to take a chance.

“I think so, yes.”

(…)

“Why did father do that?” Jane questions Edward.

“Do what?”

“Buy me a new place.” The woman states as if it’s obvious.

“You are having a baby. His first grandson. Of course he wants the baby to have a room.”

“And why the room for Katherine?”

“Do you not want her?” He questions.

“I do, a lot. But none of you do.” Jane speaks hurtful.

“We want whatever makes you happy. And if adopting a girl from the street is that, we are going to welcome her as one of our own.” The brother gives his sister a smile. “We are family.”

“Do you think she will want to be a part of it?”

“Your family? Sure. Not so sure about Dorothy, she is not likeable.”

They share a laugh.

(...)

“Jane stop it! It hurts!” Kat says, trying to get the older woman away from her hair.

“Don’t apply so much pressure!” Cathy indicates.

Braiding hair is harder than what she thought it would be. Parr is giving the directions, while Jane is trying to keep up.

“Sorry sweetheart, but this is hard.” Jane excuses herself. “Is there not something easier to do? Like a beginner braid or something?”

“This is the beginner’s braid Jane. It’s just a French one.” Cathy says. “Look.”

She takes Katherine’s hair on her hands, and starts braiding it quickly. In a moment she finishes half of it, doing a tight ponytail instead of finishing the braid.

“See?”

“I hate you, Parr.” Jane half jokes. “You don’t have a baby bump in your way, it’s not fair.”

“Shut up and just admit you can’t do a braid.”

Kat laughs, watching her reflection. “You make amazing braid, Cathy!”

“Thank you!” Catherine replies. “Now, let’s give your cousin a hand with the boxes. Or you will end up moving next year with half of the stuff.”

(…)

Jane and Kat move into the new apartment on a Monday, and they have their first fight on a Tuesday.

“I don’t want to, Jane!” Katherine screams, to the top of her lungs.

“Katherine Howard, we talked about this, you are going to therapy. There is nothing to discuss.” Her voice is hard, stern.

“Don’t Katherine Howard me.”

There is a slam on the door and the poster Anne bought her falls from the wall.

Jane is speechless, Katherine has never been so aggressive before. Even when she was upset, she was usually calmer, quieter. She hated it; how afraid the girl would look if she got even the littlest upset. Getting mad could be considered an improvement, even if it was not gladly received by the older.

Anne Boleyn

Hi Jane! Is everything okay? Kat just texted me if I could come and pick her up.

Jane Seymour

Yes, it’s alright, we were just discussing therapy.

“Katherine, come here please!” She screams.

The teenager comes out of her bedroom with eyes full of tears. The old phone with the cracked screen her cousin gifted in her hand. Her knuckles went white from the pressure.

“We have to talk. I’m feeling upset, I won’t deny it. I am not kicking you out nor I feel different about you, but we have to talk.”

“If I say I will go, will you just stop?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to help you. Why don’t we prepare some tea, and then we can talk?”

Katherine nods, Jane walks to her and puts Kat’s hand on her stomach.

“The baby is saying stop being so headstrong.” Jane laughs lightly, the baby kicking Kat’s hand.

The warmth on the woman’s laugh makes the younger girl relax.

Katherine Howard

I’m sorry, I over exaggerated. Don’t pick me up, but are we still on for next week?

(…)

Something good about the new apartment is how much space there is for the couch. A big pale blue sofa lays on the middle of the room, opposite to the TV. Katherine would be lying if she said she missed sleeping on the couch, her own bed being much comfortable, and her room made her feel protected. It was something she once had for granted, but having a place of her own was one of the best things that ever happened to her.

As usual of their late nights, they are searching for a movie. Streaming was good, it obviously was, but they had felt into the tradition of looking, going through channels. They found the same comedy months ago.

Watching it again comes as a silent agreement.

When the movie is half over, Katherine calls. “Jane.”

The older does not react, sleeping peacefully.

“I think you are asleep, which is good. I don’t know how to say it really, but I am so grateful and thankful and a hundred other words. You gave me a life again, the chance to be a person, to have joy. And you didn’t have to, but you did.” She squeezes the woman a little, careful to not wake her up. “You are going to be the best mom. I love you.”

Jane tries to not blow up her cover, but the slight smile shines through.

(…)

“Anne is my cousin.” Katherine begins to explain. “She is twenty-nine, and she has a little girl, Elizabeth, she is three. Anne is blunt, maybe impolite. She speaks her mind more than I would even think to, but she is also a good person. She pushes and asks me things I don’t want to think about, and it makes me angry when she does it. I also get angry when Jane asks me things I don’t want to answer, or begs me to do things I don’t want to.”

“Have you talked about this with them? Calmly, trying to understand each other.” Her therapist interrogates.

“No, not really. Jane loves to try and talk things out, but I feel nervous about it, I don’t like to talk about feelings.” She explains.

“Do you not like it or don’t know how to talk about it?”

The question plants itself on Katherine’s mind. It has been so long since the last time she had to actually worry about something that was not only her survival that she is not sure for how long she didn’t think about feelings.

Maybe it was when they stole her first backpack, or maybe the first night on the street. It might have been before leaving her house. She doesn’t remember feeling anything with Francis. Not even with Manox. Maybe her feelings have never been there until yet.

She wishes she knew how to express how much admiration she felt for the woman who showed her that not everything was lost.

(…)

“Jane! Anna called me, are you okay?” Katherine asks, running to Jane’s side.

Anne is by her side, looking worried with her car keys ready.

“Yes love, just a fake alarm. The doctor told me about this, fake contractions are a thing.” Jane explains.

“I just freaked out, okay? Cut me some slack.” Cleves complains.

“It’s alright, I had those for like two months with Elizabeth.” Boleyn puts a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “In case you want, I can drive you to the hospital.”

“No, thank you, Anne.” Jane smiles.

Their relationship was polite, they were not friends, but cared deeply for Katherine and were willing to do anything for the sake of their girl.

“Can you take us home?” Katherine asks.

Anne nods.

Katherine takes a moment to consider what she just said. Home. Jane, the baby, the new apartment. It was home, safe, secure. She felt loved there, at ease.

She wished she could just hold onto it and never let it go.

(…)

Jane feels her stomach constrict into itself.

A contraction, another Braxton-hicks. Except that it feels more painful, and a sense of unease settles in her stomach. She is only seven and a half months, the baby shouldn’t be coming, so she keeps with her chores.

Katherine picks up something that is wrong far too late into the night, her mind deviant and without having the chance to focus onto anything, even if she tried every exercise on her list. But once she does, she thinks it might be too late. Jane is having contractions almost every hour, and refusing to go into the hospital.

“Love, I swear I’m alright, there are still six weeks to go.”

“Don’t do this, let me take you to the hospital, as a precaution.” Katherine pleaded. “We might be in serious trouble if you keep refusing, if there’s nothing wrong we will come back and sleep and maybe watch a movie! But please, can we go?”

The older one takes the teenagers anxiety as something more worrisome that what is happening to her. She doesn’t want to make Kat feel insecure. Knowing her almost-daughter is in constant fear of abandonment, she decides to obey, just for her peace of mind.

(…)

Things are clearly not okay.

Her blood pressure is too high, and she has started to dilate. The doctors are quick to give her two shots, one to try and relax her muscles, in an attempt to cease the contractions, and another one with steroids, trying to help the lung development of the baby. Before Jane realizes, there are at least three beeping machines hanging around her.

(…)

“Love, have you talked with my family?” Jane asked.

Her contractions were more and more frequent, almost switching to active labour.

Jane wants to cry, feeling as if she failed her child. The doctors didn’t want to give her much information except for the stable vital signs of the baby. That was not enough to calm her down. She tried to be calmer, to don’t let her stress affect the birth, but she was beyond scared to be successful.

“I did, your parents didn’t text me back yet. Edward says he is coming, he is picking Dorothy. Elizabeth will be here tomorrow, and Thomas sends his best wishes but he can’t come.” Katherine explains. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore?” Jane tries to laugh, but a contraction hit. “I won’t lie, this is painful. Have you called Anne?”

“Yes, she was free to pick me up when I texted her. I don’t want to leave you alone, though.”

“That’s really thoughtful, Katherine.”

“Jane?” The doctor questions. “Can I check how it is progressing?”

She nods. Katherine holds her hand tightly. He checks the machines, and quickly calls a nurse. The teenager squeezes her hand, and she does the same maybe a little harder than intended.

“We have to do an emergency c-section. The baby’s heart rate is growing faster and your blood pressure is not getting any lower.” He announces. “Do you have someone to be with you?”

“Me.” Katherine quickly says.

“Are you over eighteen?”

“Yes.”

The way she lies feels almost natural, and Jane wonders for a second if she ever had to do that before. Her mind can’t focus on it for too long.

“Kat, you don’t have to come.”

“But I want to, really.” She gets closer and whispers to her ear. “Please, you have helped me so much. I have seen the worst things, I think. Please.”

“No, Kat, you are too young.” Jane says, firm. “Is there anywhere near but not in the room she can stay?”

“She can wait in the neonatal unit.”

(…)

They leave her in a corridor with a bright white light that is driving her crazy. Nobody tells her any news, and Jane’s family are supposed to arrive in a couple of minutes but there is still no trace of them. She feels helpless, unable to do anything and clueless enough to be insecure.

But then a nurse shows up with a baby.

“The mom is alright, but taking a nap.” She explained. “She wanted you to be the second to see him. She said you knew his name.”

The chat they had just months before still on her head.

“Edward. His name is Edward.”

(…)

“He is really tiny. And red. Are all babies that red?” Katherine asks her cousin.

“The ones that I know, yes. Elizabeth was quite big, but still red.” Anne smiles, remembering. “She had to be in a lamp and receive plenty of solar light because the doctors said she was yellow, though.”

“I don’t think he looks yellow, at all.”

There is a silence, not uncomfortable, but not at ease.

“How are you feeling about Edward?”

“What do you mean?” The younger questions.

“I know how close you got with Jane. When George was born, I was so upset, I almost cried for days. It took me a while, but now I love him a lot, even when he gets on my nerves.” Anne took Katherine ‘s hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure.”

She didn’t have enough time to think about it, to process that now Jane was a mother. A real mother with her biological son. The space Katherine took was now belonging to Edward.

“I am anxious, a tad frightened and excluded, I won’t lie about it.” A feeling of being exposed started creeping up. “But Jane has been nothing but kind. I can’t feel bad about him when she loves him so much. I love him too, I know I don’t know him, but if he is a little like her, he is going to be a good guy, and God knows we need those.”

Anne smiled, and the teenager embraced her in a hug.

“I’m happy you think like that, Kitty.” She squeezes the girl. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Annie.”

(…)

“Jane, can we talk?”

Katherine is trembling, her voice not above a whisper.

To admit how much she adored the older woman was nerve wracking. She almost couldn’t remember how it was to have a mother, since hers died when she was so young. Mothers were probably like Jane. She felt protected, cared for, near her.

“Honey, I’m feeling tired. My legs are killing me. Is it really important?”

She wanted to say yes. To explain how important it was for her, how her life changed for the better since meeting Jane. How much it meant the fact that she felt seen.

“No, not really.”

(…)

Jane feels worse. The ibuprofen is no longer working and her fever is burning up. Not even the idea of going to see Edward can bring her out of bed. Her headache is just getting worse each time, and she feels as if she was going to throw up at any given moment.

Katherine was by her side, trying to help, bringing water and soup, ready for when her mother, or not mother, decides to order her to call for an ambulance.

And she waits.

But Jane never asks, instead Katherine calls when she seems to no longer recognize her voice.

(…)

The teenager is sitting outside the emergency room, in a hall without anybody near her.

Her mind is not there, though, and she feels as if she can almost watch herself as a third person would. Not sure of how much time has passed, she tries to focus on counting numbers, but it doesn’t work. The presence of a doctor doesn’t help either, not even when he tells her the dreadful news. It’s not until she calls Edward, the older, that she realizes what she is saying.

Internal organs shutting out.

Say your goodbyes.

Jane is not waking up.

#six the musical #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour #Katherine Howard

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rudemaidenswrite · 7 years ago

Text

You & Me and Sherlock makes 3

part 11

beta read by @sylvanasthebansheequeen

written by @pusantheamazonian

When she wakes up again she is in a different room. Sherlock is now sitting by the bed reading with one hand holding hers.

“What are you reading?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo.”

“You haven’t finished it yet?”

“No.” He looks up and smiles, closing the book. “John went to talk to Mrs. Hudson, Q and Bond are talking to the doctor.”

“Ah, so how are you doing?”

“Me? You are the one who just had surgery.”

“Eh I’ll live.”

“So you understand sign language?” Sherlock questions.

“Yes, I used it when I was younger. Until I was 10, I was mute by choice and only spoke to Q and our parents. Afterwards Q and I still used sign language to communicate, not many people understand sign language.”

“Why were you mute?”

“Bullies and I was considerably smaller than the other children.”

“Bullies? No wonder you don’t like people.”

“Yup…people fear those who are different.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about your blood type?” Sherlock’s voice hints at disappointment.

“People treat you differently once they know, like you’re diseased or breakable it was just was easier to not say anything.” She answers sheepishly, embarrassed that she is having to tell Sherlock.

“R that is need to know information. You need to tell me things like this.”

“…ok I will.”

“Good, so what exactly is syndrome zero?” Sherlock could not find anything about the syndrome.

“My blood does not have any antibodies or antigens. Where in normal blood types you either have one or both of those things.”

“What about the Rh factor?”

“I’m Rh positive, which is weird since I don’t have any of the other things.”

“Is yours genetic?”

“No, mom was in a car crash a month before we were born. The doctors say that during the crash is when mine and Q’s blood mixed.”

“Good...Q left this for you.” Sherlock pulls out her mp3 player from a pocket and files away the new information she told him.

“Ooh! My mp3 player.” R smiles devilishly.

“Good you are awake.” The doctor comes in with Q and Bond trailing behind him. “Now R, you must rest. You will be here for a while so we can monitor your healing. In a couple of days you will be starting therapy. Now it will take 6-8 weeks for your ribs to heal so try not to move too much. I’m also ordering an IV push pump for you. Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“Well if that’s all I will see you tomorrow. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Okay.”

The doctor smiles and leaves the room.

“What am I going to do with you?” Q sighs as he leans in and flicks her in the forehead.

"I don't know, sell me to Gypsies?"

May 30

Q told me that he and Bond are back together. The trust is broken but it will mend in time. He said that they have no more secrets.

Every night while she has been in the hospital, Bond visits her around 11pm. He only stays till 6:30am cause at 6:35 like clockwork Q is there to see her before he goes to work and after work no matter what the time.

John stops by after work to make sure she is ok and to make sure that Sherlock had come at lunch time. John has placed reminders on Sherlock’s phone to do so. Mrs. Hudson comes every couple days to makes sure that she is caught up with everything that has happened on Baker Street.

But by week two, R is fully conscious and Bond talks to her a little each night. You two have started playing cards every night and he brings you a snack.

Tonight he brought her toasted cheese ravioli. She eats it while matching his poker face, you two are playing poker with pretzels as chips.

“So James what are your intentions towards my brother?” She asks out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Well we are having the talk now, do you love him?”

“..Yes.”

“Good, now I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt, even warned Q about you. But he still like you. So if you ever make him cry again or hurt him. You are going to disappear.”

“You’re threating me?”

“Yup, I have a sworn duty to protector my brother.”

“Okay I will do better.”

“Ha ha cause you will disappear.”

“…thank you for saving our relationship… I had no idea on what to do.” Bond says after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s what sisters are for besides any fool can see that you two are meant for each other.”

“So I take it that you are the one with the other half of the tattoo. Q’s mysterious puzzle piece tattoo.”

“Yes, that tattoo was my idea and we got them when we were teenagers. But that sugar skull and computer one he got in spite of Silvia.”

“Q’s puzzle piece says together. What does yours say?”

“Forever.” She pulls the gown down to reveal the tattooed puzzle piece on her left breast.

June 13

Sherlock bought me flowers and made a special ‘birthday breakfast’ to have at the hospital today . It was waffles with sliced strawberries and bananas.

Sherlock has something on his mind that he just hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. Eliza and Ben’s shady past, what did they exactly do? Sherlock takes off to the hospital even though it’s late in the evening.

Once at the hospital Sherlock quickly makes his way to her room.

“R” Sherlock bursts through the door.

“Sherlock! What’s up? How’s the case going?” She closes the book she was reading up.

“Forget the case; I have some questions for you.”

“Okay.” She moves her legs and pats the bed for Sherlock to sit down. Sherlock shuffles before sitting down.

“What exactly did you and Q do that was so shady?”

“Ah…well we were or are an underground, back road hacking group. We called ourselves ‘Galaxy.’ For our services we charged the equivalent of four million pounds. The person had to pay half up front then the other half after we were done. The money was paid to a Swiss account.”

“What kind of hacking?”

“Everything, whatever the person who hired us wanted...within reason.”

“What did you do as Galaxy?”

“I was the muscle and I delivered the info. We always delivered the info in person. Q did all of the hacking and leaving no trace of who we are.”

“Q mentioned the Paris incident.”

“Yes the Paris incident. One of our regular customers decided he wasn’t going to pay the second half of our payment. So I went in person and destroyed their physical documents and establishment. Q wiped their database and sent all of their information to their rivals. Before I left I also knocked out the power of the whole city for a week so that they didn’t realize what happened.”

“You made sure to get revenge.”

“Yes I did.” R grins.

“Then how do you work for MI6 now?”

“Well after Paris we became more particular about our clients. Q became paranoid and decided to bury almost all of the legal documents he could find on us. At university I was noticed by someone from British Intelligence and I was offered a job. To blend in I chose to go with the Q branch after some training, I was shipped off to the Rome branch.”

“Then transferred back to London where you are renting the basement flat.”

“Yes…I HOPE YOU HEARD ALL OF THAT MYCROFT!"

“What?”

“Pretty sure Mycroft planted bugs in here.” R winks slyly.

“Of course he did.” Sherlock sighs.

After three weeks of being confined to the boring hospital room and forced to do unnecessary therapy. R is now eligible to go home. John, Sherlock and Q are loitering in the room waiting for the doctor to come in to give her the ok to leave.

“Well R after reviewing you file and consulting with therapy; I can say that you can go home. But your bandage must be changed every day and I highly recommend that you stay with someone until you regain full mobility.”

“I will be with her.” Sherlock pipes up.

“Good, now has the nurse gone over all of the instructions?”

“Yes.”

“Well then you can leave when you are all checked out. Be careful R.”

“Thanks I will.”

June 17

John told me that Sherlock’s arch-nemesis Moriarty killed himself. I have the same suspicions as John. Why would you kill yourself if you are ahead of the game on Sherlock? This must be a distraction to go underground for a while.

Eliza has noticed that ever since she got home from the hospital Sherlock has been showing more and more affection. Very strange compared to what it was. An occasional hug or kiss on the cheek unless it was their personal intimate time. But now this new level of affection is almost freighting. He hardly leaves her side and helps with everything from getting dressed to cooking to taking a shower. Each day a hug and kiss every morning and always before bed. Thankfully Lestrade was able to distract Sherlock’s attention for a few hours, only if John stayed with her.

John is not so hovering which is a relief, plus it gives her a chance to talk to John about Sherlock’s behavior.

“John we need to talk.” Eliza states from her loafing state on the couch.

“Sure about what?” John puts the newspaper down.

“Sherlock’s new behavior, he’s been very affectionate.”

“Ah... well it maybe from his guilt.”

“His guilt? What guilt.”

“Guilty of things unsaid, Eliza we all thought the worst….when we were finally able to see you something snapped in Sherlock he looked like a broken man.”

“Oh….so he’s just making sure I know.”

“Yes Sherlock is a man of action not words.”

“I know it’s just so strange.”

“Just let him be he will bounce back to his normal self.”

“John I’m glad you’re normal.”

“Me too.” John chuckles as he picks the paper back up.

Sherlock is making some tea when she hugs him from behind and he stiffens.

“I appreciate all that you do, even though I may not understand all of it.” Eliza gives a small squeeze.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She can hear his smirk.

“Sure you don’t.” She smiles hiding her face in Sherlock’s back.

“Ow! Sherlock stop it I can do it myself.” Sherlock is cleaning the site were the staples where before putting a clean bandage on.

“No the doctor gave specific instructions!”

The door bursts open and the security alarm sounds. Looking up there’s an older woman standing in the doorway.

“Sherlock don’t hurt the girl.”

Sherlock is looming over her with the wet gauze in hand while her shirt is folded up over her chest.

“Mother…” Sherlock sighs as he tosses the gauze away and turns the alarm off. “What are you doing here?”

“Mycroft told me that your girlfriend came home from the hospital last week. I was shocked that you have a girlfriend but not telling me she was in the hospital. Shame on you.” Sherlock groans as she sits down beside her. “Eliza this is my mother, mother this is Eliza.”

“Hello.”

“Hello dear pardon my intrusion but Sherlock never answers my phone calls.”

Eliza tries to give him a stern look but doesn’t work he just rolls his eyes.

“So Eliza if I may ask how did you get hurt? Mycroft only told me a few details.”

“I pushed a friend out of the way of a shooter but I was not so lucky.” Sherlock continues on his mission of cleaning the site and applying a new bandage.

“How unlucky, now dear how long have you two been dating?”

“Almost two years.”

“1 year 10 months 1 week 3 days and 12 hours.” Sherlock quickly says and she stares for a moment that he has calculated all of it.

“And you haven’t brought her home shame on you Sherlock.” Sherlock ignores her. “Eliza you should bring your family AND Sherlock to have lunch with us.”

“Okay.”

“What?” Sherlock immediately stops and looks at her in confusion and horror.

“We can have lunch, I’ll ask my brother when he’s free.”

“Sure and your parents?”

“Ah no it’s just me, my brother and his boyfriend. Our parents died when we were younger.”

“Oh my, well whenever is best for you let me know. Sherlock be nice to this girl and you will come too.” She gets up and leaves giving Sherlock a scold. She just stares at her, realizing where Mycroft and Sherlock get their personality from.

“Is she always like that?” Eliza asks as she leaves suddenly since she has completed her mission.

“Yes.”

“Eliza?” Q’s voice drifts from the door.

“In here.” She calls from the kitchen.

“How are you feeling today?” Q gives her a quick hug as Bond plants himself down on the couch.

“Ok, I met Sherlock’s mother today.”

“What?”

“Yup and she wants to have lunch with us.”

“By us you mean you and I?”

“Yup; you, me, Bond and Sherlock having lunch with Sherlock’s parents.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that I would have to see when you are free to do lunch.”

“Stop grumbling Sherlock this is happening none of us want it to but it is.”

“Then why are we going?”

“It’s called being nice besides if we do this your mother will stop leaving messages for me and John because you don’t visit.” Eliza stills has no idea how she got her number, Mycroft probably gave it to her.

Sherlock grumbles for a while before settling himself to just stare out the window. Finally after driving for an hour out into the country the driver pulls onto a long driveway. As the car slows down she leans over and peers out of Sherlock’s window. The house is a large Tudor styled two story home with flowers everywhere on the outside.

“Oh nobody’s here, we can leave now.” Sherlock announces once he is out of the car. Eliza grabs Sherlock by the ear and tows him to the door.

“Sherlock you didn’t even knock.” She gives him a disapproving look before knocking on the door herself.

The door immediately opens on her last knock and it is Sherlock’s mother who has opened the door.

“Sherlock, Eliza!” She hugs both of them before ushering them inside. “And who else do we have here?”

“My brother Ben and his boyfriend James.” Eliza points to each one.

“Welcome I’m Sherlock’s mother you can call me Wanda, Sherlock show them to the dining room I’ll get your father.” She hugs Ben and James too.

Wanda shuts the door. Sherlock rolls his eyes as he heads down the hall. It curves to the left. He enters the doorway across from the stairs. It’s the formal dining room. She has set the table in a neat and simple way. There’s a white tablecloth with six places set.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one that’s scared. I have nothing to do this and I’m scared.” Bond states.

“Oh ya.”

“Yup.”

Everyone agrees.

“Here’s Sherlock’s’ father Timothy.”

“You must be Eliza, prettier in person.”

“Why thank you.” He looks like a very soften spoken person.

“Sit down, sit down the food is almost ready.” Wanda insists as she leaves the room.

Eliza sits down next to Sherlock, Ben sits across from her with Bond beside him and Sherlock’s father sits down between Sherlock and Bond.

Wanda comes back with a serving tray that has three different dishes on it.

“Oh let me help you.” She starts to stand up to help her.

“Nonsense sit back down Eliza, you are still healing.” Eliza immediately sits back down because she uses the tone threating to whip her if she doesn’t listen. “Sherlock have you not been helping her? She shouldn’t be doing many things.” She lectures Sherlock in the same tone right there at the table.

“Yes, I know mother.”

“How did you meet Sherlock?” Timothy asks relieving the tension.

“I live in the flat below Sherlock and John, we met the day I was moving in.”

Like an over bearing mother, Wanda begins to individually serve everyone.

“Oh so you live in the same building that’s nice.”

“Yes.”

“Which one of you is older? Ben or Eliza?” Wanda asks seizing the conversation.

“I am by five minutes” Ben answers.

“Twins! That’s wonderful.” Timothy smiles.

“Hope everyone is hungry; its beef wellington in individual portions, fried potatoes, and a cucumber and onion salad.”

As Wanda is explaining the food she glances down at her plate. Wanda has put a lot of effort into this meal.

“It looks delicious.” Bond turns his charm on as he compliments the food. Everyone stared at him because it’s the first thing he has said in the presence of Sherlock’s parents.

“Thank you James. Now eat up before it gets cold.”

Staring at Bond mentally shaking her head.

Suck up.

With that everyone is quiet and starts eating. Every now and then does Wanda ask a question about Eliza and Sherlock or about her and Ben. Eliza has learned why Sherlock isn’t too fond of spending time with his parents. Wanda is overbearing and dominates the conversation while Timothy is normal and quiet. But it’s also Sherlock’s fault for not talking to them more often.

July 2

Today was…interesting. Lunch with Sherlock’s parents. Sherlock was resentful about the whole thing; Q and Bond were equally nervous as me.

#Sherlock #james bond #bondlock #john watson #Q #R #original character #meet the parents

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shadiesteverafter · 8 years ago

Text

I can’t emphasis this more.

I have a lot of amazing interpreters in my whole 5 ½ years of college life, but nothing impacts me the most in my life so much as my interpreter, Maggie did. I met Maggie in March of 2013 when I was in the process to transfer from my first college to my current university. I wasn’t even planning to meet her that time because the transfer wasn’t official yet, but her sister, Katie (LOVE HER SO MUCH, her story at another time) was interpreting for my tour that time, which at the end of the tour, I informed her that I wanted to transfer, which she perked up and asked me if I wanted to meet Maggie, who is in the charge of disability services which I agreed because what is the harm in it? So I did. My first memory of meeting Maggie was hilarious because, back that time, I didn’t know that Katie and Maggie are sisters (I still think both are just pulling my leg, there is no way they could be related, their personality are complete opposite from each other 😂) that I imagined Maggie as an old woman who doesn’t know too much of ASL. (It’s probably because of the person who was in charge back at my first college was an older woman who doesn’t know too much of ASL) You cannot imagine how much I was shocked to meet a younger woman signing in perfect ASL to me! She was absolutely the sweetest person and took her time to explain to me how the disability service works. I do remember her face light with excitement when I told her that I am trying to transfer to here. Fast forward to two months later, I officially transferred to my university which the information packet provided to me was very vague, leaving me very confused because I was in a super weird situation (I was a freshman with less than 20 credits) but I had Maggie’s email so I decided to reach her out to find where can I start. She is SO helpful! I don’t think I could survive transfer day without her, lol. I remember one moment when I was alone in her office because of privacy stuff that my parents couldn’t be in the room with me. We were in a process to sign off all the legal documents so I could receive disability service for the rest of my college career. I was so nervous about fall semester, but she made me feel comfortable by answering all my weird questions and getting to know me little bit. It’s safe to say that we clicked that day and I really liked her way better than the person who was in charge of my first college’s disability service. It’s probably because she’s so accessible that it didn’t require the 3rd person in the situation. They always make it weirder than it is. Anyway! In the fall semester, Maggie was my interpreter for one of my classes. I can’t remember which but I think it’s Bio Lab. Since it was in the classroom situation, it was different, I was shy and awkward around her. Eventually, over the time, I started to get to know Maggie better and started to have daily pleasant side conversations. I do not think it is until I had been in current university for 3 years that I became close with her compared to all of my interpreters. Who knew that by in my fourth year at current university that brought me and Maggie to have a deep conversation about our personal lives and barely paid attention to the class (oops) which I tease her all time how she is turning unprofessional as she was supposed to be professional when she has to interpret for me. (I’m still working on trying to get her mad because it seem nothing makes her mad! XD) Now, as I am about to walk across the stage at the end of this year, Maggie had watched me grow up and going through this bumpy journey of 4 ½ years at this university. Unlike other interpreters, Maggie saw me the raw reality of me by having a couple of meltdowns, stress, emotional distress, homesickness, heartbroken when I found out that I was kicked out of my major and so on. She had provided me so much of support all the years that I do believe that I wouldn’t get through my university without her. This why this is a little hard for me to face the fact that I am graduating and leaving, but I know the fact that Maggie is proud “grandma” of me that it make it easier for me to accept. I’m so thankful for having her in my 4 ½ years of my life and it is fun to know that I had been in her half of her career at the university!

Fuck. I’m an emotional mess right now.

P.S.

#i love my interpreter #she's the best #personal post #ASL interpreter

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