dont try to fix me i'm not broken-- open

[Doll]

Gone. It had happened so fast. So very, very fast. It hurt, and not just physically. They were gone. The one thing that was closest to Doll, closer than Spot, was gone. It killed her inside, it really did. It hurt, she felt empty. It had barely been three months, and bam, someone up there decided she wasn't good enough to be a mother. It had happened so fast, so very, very, fast. Way to fast for her. Because of this, her heart hurt, it hurt as much as when she had lost Soldier, so very, very much more.

At first she thought she was just having a cramp, but then it got more severe. Doll had rushed herself to the hospital, only for it to start. Rawlins, a doctor there, had told her she had had a miscarriage. The word stabbed through her heart like an icicle; cold, sharp, and unforgiving. There was no evidence of an icicle since they melted, but it hurt to know it had been there. Everytime she heard the word she couldn't help but feel like she was going to cry. Some of the others had found out about the miscarriage to.

All she could tell them was to leave her alone. Just toleave her alone. None of them were close to her, and now, with that almost child of her and Spot's, she felt empty; alone. It was a horrible alone, worse than losing her brother. She never knew that there was something worse than losing a twin, but this... this tore her apart horribly. It was like a piece of glass that dug into your skin that you couldn't get out, with every movement, it seemed to stab you, or saw at your muscles or the bone nearby.

Now, well now she was under the bridge, trying to find solitude with being alone. She had done it before, but this time, it was harder than before. Way harder. Tear lines stained her face, and all she could do was sit there in the sand, watching as the water crashed against the wood columns that held the dock above her up. Unspoken words were left lingering inside her, begging to be said. Doll wanted some form of an answer. Why? Why her? Why her baby. That baby had been the first thing Spot and she had owned together ever since they finally got married.

And then somehow by some cruel of fate that baby had been stolen from them. Doll didnt want to tell anyone, they'd all figure out somehow, one thing for sure was that Spot would find out. He always knew everything, it seemed. But this... somehow she prayed he wouldnt find out, for him to never find out. It was her burden to bear, it had to be her burden. It felt like she had killed the child, somehow. After all, she was the one who had been with child, not anyone else, and now, now that was completely gone.

But still, she sat cross legged on the beach, staring out sadly to the ocean, the one place that had brought her the most comfort over the years. But not now, it felt like never now. She had sat there for a good three hours, and she still felt no better. This depressed Doll even more. Her solitude, her sanctuary, even now, in what felt like the darkest chapter in her life, could it bring the solitude she craved. That she needed. The place she went for comforting, now felt like any other place; cold, and a very, unforgiving place.

She knew she was alone, at least she thought she was alone, and Doll said quietly to herself, in barely a whisper, "Why'd it have to happen to me?" There was no way she could trust her voice to speak louder, it was awful just to speak a whisper. The wind blew her hair back a little, and all she could do was stare out at the ocean, and try to calm herself down.

[Fox]

She had heard. Almost everyone had heard. Frankly, it disturbed her to no end. One, the idea of Doll and Spot being parents was just so unrealistic to her. Her first instinct when she heard? Laugh. All she could do was laugh. It was such a crazy idea. Never, ever would she have taken it seriously. Chances were, she would never be able to hang around the two again if they had a...kid. Mothers were unrealistic to her. Fathers were awkward. The whole set was just stupid.

Two, raising a child in a lodging house was ridiculous. Any child of Doll and Spot would already have been pretty messed up, in her mind. Raising them in a lodging house was just so- again- unrealistic.

Three. Concepts one and two were canceled out when she had heard about the miscarriage.

Fox herself had never been affected by one- but the idea of it was just...weird. In no way was Fox the motherly kind- never in a million years could she even begin to imagine what Doll was like right now. Her thought process, her actions, her. Fox herself still felt like a kid- just a clever one with the smallest sense of maturity. How could Doll even go on, for two months, knowing that she would be raising a child? Incredulous. Thats all it was to Fox. Unbelievable. Awkward. A bit frightening. But she would never show that. Her laid-back, nonchalant nature would never leave her. Even now.

Originally, she wasn't seeking Doll out. But, Fox lingered often around all of New York City- not just Manhattan. Brooklyn seemed quiet and eerie today. That was the atmosphere she needed- away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan's always annoying hoity-toity bussiness men. After making a pit stop at O'Brady's, she combed her way over to the Brooklyn Bridge. Not often did she come here, but it was quiet. So nice and quiet.

Although, Fox asking for peace was just too hilarious.

Slipping underneath the bridge, she landed almost without a sound. She stood at 5'1, and had had enough practice to make herself quiet as a mouse. Taking her usual small and quick steps, she pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear, keeping in the shadows. Brooklyn was protective of their turf. They'd know that she was a 'Hattan. Quiet, she repeated in her mind. Not that it was needed for her to say it- it was in her nature.

"Why'd it have to happen to me?"

Fox stopped in her tracks. She knew that voice, but didn't comprehend the pain in it. Doll. Why? Why was her timing so bad? Shrugging it off, she approached Doll, maintaining her quick steps. She wasn't unsure what to say. She knew what to say. And she knew how it would be perceived. Just sometimes, Fox's brutal nature and cruel speak was not called for. She couldn't help it.

"You need one of these", she murmured, tossing Doll a beer.

Count: 551
Muse: Better!
Music: Alice, Cocteau Twins.

[Doll]

Doll took the beer silently, opening it and swirling the amber liquid in it's bottle a little, before taking a long swig from the beer. She needed it badly, she hadn't had a drink in ages. It burned her throat a little, but at least it distracted from the pain she already felt. She replied quietly, "Thanks Fox, you really dont know how much I've wanted this." Not feeling the need to specify whether she meant the beer, or the child, Doll took another swig, wishing that the beer would come into affect soon, very, very soon.

Her thoughts kept drifting to the child that could have been. Would they have been a boy, or a girl? Would they have her hair, or Spot's eyes? Would they have had Spot's hair, and her eyes? Doll asked Fox quietly, "Fox, is it bad, when your heart hurts for someone who was never born?" Fox, she knew for fact that Fox wasn't really one to have a good answer for those types of questions, but it would be nice, to just hear someone give her an answer. Any answer at all, and she would be fine.

That was all she wanted, all she wanted was an answer. She needed an answer. Doll just wanted someone to tell her an answer, it didnt need to be an answe she liked, but one would just make her better. It didn't matter who it came from, it just needed to be an answer. "Is it wrong when you had a name for a baby, but now you can't use it because the person you were going to give it to is gone?" Fox really wasn't the person Doll would talk to about this, but was the only one as of late.

Taking another swig, she felt the buzz of the beer slowly coming to her, finally.

[Fox]

How could she have responded to that? Hurting for someone that was never born? Biting down on her lip, she thought hard. Probably, it was okay. Really, she had no clue what that attachment to a mother to a daughter was like. Fox had never known her mom- but that was good. She'd never become nostalgic for a mother. Never needed one. Trying to put herself in Doll's shoes was impossible. But, she could at least come up with an answer. Just standing there was awkward, to the point where it was almost painful.

"Yeah...I guess it is okay. I mean that was...your...", she strained to say the words. Kid. Child. They just felt so wrong coming out of her mouth. She couldn't- she wouldn't- bring herself to say the word. "Your...ya' know." Fox kept herself in the shadows underneath the bridge, leaning against it. Her sly eyes glinted with their normal mischievousness, but she wasn't going to need to use that trait now. Doll knew that Fox was probably the last person that you'd talk to this stuff about. Hell, you'd talk to the Delancey's before you talked to Fox about this.

Was. That was your kid, was what ran through her mind at that moment. Oh- that was really bad.

She wasn't going to tone down her cruelty. That'd be asking too much.

Pulling another drink out of her bag- something stronger- she popped the cap open with her teeth and took a long swig. Addiction was powerful. Fox couldn't possibly care less about the fact that she probably couldn't go more then two days without a drink. Maybe if she put her mind to it...but really. Why would she bother?

Keeping her attention on Doll, she understood one thing. She wanted answers. What Fox thought, was that Doll was thinking, "Why me." In her mind, that wasn't the best way to approach it. When you lost someone, you buried the ashes, gritted your teeth, sucked it up and got over with it.

"Its not wrong...", she muttered, almost inaudible. Running a hand through her red mane, she thought for a moment. The fact that Doll had actually gone to naming the kid was so...the thought was weird to Fox. Doll was so attached to it- him or her. Whatever. Of course, she'd heard about the bond between a mother and a kid before. Never would she understand it. Never. But, Doll needed an answer. The answers probably kept her somewhat sane.

But the aura in the air was so weird. So, so, so...ugh. Not that Fox disrespected Doll for actually naming it but it was weird. Really just, weird. She needed to break the thick silence. It was getting on her nerves. But she couldn't blow up about anything right now, even if she wanted to. Just cover the situation up.

"What name did ya' have in mind?"

Count: 546
Muse: Good
Notes: Fox isn't good moral support, but she's really trying and not liking it. And kind of failing at it, too.

[Doll]

Taking another swig of beer, she replied quietly, "Ashilinn. If the kid was a girl, her name would have been Ashilinn. If they were a boy, his name would have been Jonathan. Spot didn't like the name Jonathan, but I really wanted to name a boy that." Doll finished off the beer, and looked over at Fox, "You got anything stronger and cheap? I'm gonna need something strong." Anything that was strong and cheap was good in her book. Her and Muse would go to O'Brady's a lot before, but now Fox was her primary source of alcohol.

Looking back out at the waves, she remembered all the times she had been with her dad out at sea, and the more she thought about it, the more Doll realized she had no clue where she was from. Was she even a legal citizen here? Her baby would have been legal here, and she immediately dropped the thought. Why did everything she thought about go straight back to thinking about a baby? She really wished she had something stronger. Anything really that could drain out any thought of babies, or anything else like that. Literally anything at all for her.

Cause somehow things were just crazy and annoying and just about made her mad. Very, very mad, and said, and by now she was really wishing she had a beer. Very badly.

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[Fox]

Fox nodded at Doll's words. Aishlinn and Jonathan. They both probably had some sort of connection to Doll or Spot. Maybe Doll's brother, but she didn't know. She'd met him and Bear years, and years ago. But it was brief. Then she'd see the two of them again when she hung around Brooklyn. But never knew either of them, really. "Why didn't he like the name?"

How odd the thought was to Fox, to be surrounded by people who really just...cared for you, all the time. Of course, Doll wasn't completely surrounded or safe. When you were married to Spot Conlon, you were always and never safe. But still, weather she knew it or not, Doll had a huge support system. She walked over to Doll, and leaned against a pillar right by her. There was pain in her face. Pain she could never understand. It was just so odd...

Fox gulped down some more of her drink. It was strong. Really, really strong. But this situation was just terrible to her. It'd be better if she'd forgotten the whole thing. Not removing her eyes from the ground, she dug her hand in her bag and pulled out a bottle of gin, tossing it to Doll. "Not cheap, but its strong. Ya' need it", she mumbled. "Keep it away from Spot, though. 'Supposed to be his." The strong stuff was the best for situations like this- for drinking in general. But, it was harder to get. She had to claw her way around the back of O'Bradys to get them, while trying to avoid stepping on the thousands of glass shards that littered the floor.

Although, she drank alot. By now, she could probably step on eggshells without cracking one from all the visits she paid to the back cell of O'Bradys.

She hated the water. Always, always hated it. Fox couldn't swim. Not that she didn't want to learn, or that she couldn't learn, but she couldn't do it. Fire fascinated her, but the rivers were her least favorite place in New York. You would never find Fox at the docks, or in most situations- under the bridge. However, she wanted quiet, and instead found Doll. She wanted to jet and run from her.

"I hate the water."

Count: 428
Muse: Good

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