g r a c i e l a (![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} aheavenlycause) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valesco_history,@ 2008-05-06 17:16:00 |
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December, 1978
Who: THE SMITHS
What: Graciela finds out Alex is still on meds
Where: Their house
Graciela had been avoiding the stairs. She would get dressed in the morning and all that, but then go downstairs and basically stay down there until bed, if she could. It was just too much of a hassle, climbing up and down them, and really, if she wanted to be a pain, she could get Alex to get whatever she needed. Not that she abused this (like she knew she could, but she didn’t), but it kept her somewhat sane.
But! After Simon, after the dementors (deus, she’d been so worried about George, but he was okay--), she finally had some good news to share. Santiago had just firecalled with information about the hospital (and a rant about his backyard, hooligans---); they’d have their own room, he’d have everything ready for Zacharias when he finally decided to come.
Which was in three weeks.
Three.
Weeks.
Less.
Deus.
So she’d given in and made her way upstairs, slowly, but finally she reached the landing and backed into Alex’s office (ooh, they both had offices, see how nice a house was?).
“Guess what,” she started, faltering at the sight before her. Graciela’s hand gripped the doorframe as she focused on the pill bottles on his desk. She couldn’t find it in her self to accuse him of anything, her mind was simply flooded with—with—she couldn’t find the right word.
Alex hadn’t meant to get back on his pills. He’d spent a good deal of his time avoiding just that, actually, and thus had tried his best to explain to his doctors that he really didn’t want any more medication. They had insisted, of course, telling him that he would be just fine, and rather quickly, he’d found himself popping a pill whenever he felt the slightest ache – whether it be physical or emotional. He just always seemed to get a “headache” and needed whatever prescription it was that he’d been given. He hadn’t really read the label. He didn’t know. He kept telling himself that he wanted to stop – that he had to stop – but it couldn’t hurt to just go one more day, he’d… he’d stop tomorrow. There was too much stuff going on in the present to think about stopping right that second, wasn’t there?
Simon’s death had caused his need for said pills to increase and thus he found himself sitting in his office while Gracie seemed quite contented with her place downstairs, a few pill bottles placed on his desk and a handful in his hand. He had just thrown them into his mouth when he heard the door creak open, and froze without even swallowing them. He stared at his fiancée who was standing not five feet away now, his hand clasped on a glass of water.
Hm.
This was going to be a bit hard to explain.
His hand finally wrapped around the glass, he put it to his lip quickly, and swallowed, just to get the taste out of his mouth. He had forgotten how gross pills tasted when you let the protective coating melt on your tongue. He was still quiet for a moment after, his hand going to the bridge of his nose and pinching it roughly. Oy.
“I… er… I’d love to say it’s not what it looks like, but…”
“Shut up,” she snapped before he could continue. He had gone and swallowed them, right in front of her! Right in front of her, then he goes and---and talks like---like it’s nothing, like she caught him poking at the frosting of a cake.
Graciela shut the door behind her but didn’t step any further into the room, she could barely look at him, she felt so--betrayed, that was the word she’d been looking for. Alex was supposed to have slowly made his way off of the medications, she was supposed to be helping him, and here he was, hiding up in his office and taking them like candy. Like it was nothing. Graciela knew that it was hard, if you get back on---but---he was supposed to trust her with these things!
“How long,” she stated, because it wasn’t new, no, she knew Alex, he wouldn’t have been this careless if it was a recent thing.
He winced gently at her words, looking at the ground and sighing some. He had meant to tell her – really! It was just…He figured with so much else going on… Well, right. He didn’t have any excuses, really, and that was what it all came down to. Fiddling with one of the bottle caps, he shrugged, biting at the inside of his lip and not sure how to answer. His appearance at that point could have been considered one of a scolded child – pathetic for a full grown man, but understandable for anyone who had ever faced the wrath of a Cervantes as he was quite sure he was going to.
Again.
He needed to stop getting into these situations. Taking another sip from his water glass, he finally was able to look at her, his head tilted to one side some.
“Since after I got kidnapped,” he said plainly, continuing to try to act like it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Which it was. But whatever. “The doctors put me on them to help with the pain while I was in the hospital getting evaluated and didn’t listen when I said no.” There was a pause, before he looked at the desktop and muttered, “So it was a little hard to say no when they offered me a prescription.”
Since July? He’d been on them since July? Graciela wasn’t sure what made her eyes water more, the fact that he’d been lying to her for four months or the fact that she hadn’t noticed. Of course things had been strained, they were having a baby! They were moving into a new house! Her brother-in-law had been murdered, things! Things had happened but she couldn’t push past the guilt that consumed her.
Except, his calm, plain words angered her more than the guilt, and Graciela’s lips twisted into a deep frown.
“And when were you planning to tell me? After our son was born? Maybe you were saving it for Christmas, porque that would have been lovely.” She put her hand up to stop herself from saying anything else, and looked at the ground when she spoke, she couldn’t look at him, “No one forced you to do anything, Alex, I’m here--why—why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… soon! I … I just … With everything I didn’t… I didn’t want to… Upset… You…” The words got quieter and quieter as they came out of his mouth, realizing just how stupid he really did sound, but it had been his thought process, damm it! He wasn’t being logical. Rubbing his face some with his hand, he let out another long sigh, closing his eyes finally and trying his best to figure out how to get out of this without sleeping on the couch. It wasn’t looking promising.
“I… I um…” He paused for a long moment, before taking a shaky breath and murmuring, “I’m… sorry, okay? I just… I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”
“Four months. Four months.”
Graciela couldn’t get past that it had been four months. So—if he’d stopped taking them, what was it, when—early May, that means he lasted barely two and a half months. And she hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t noticed that her husband was slowly reverting back to—deus, but he had always behaved differently with her, why hadn’t any of his friends noticed? What about his sister? She probably knew, they were always telling each other secrets, just like she did with her siblings---Psyke probably had known, Alex had been hiding this from her, and she just wanted to—she wanted to—
She’d started to cry, now, and the notepad in her hand which she’d written down the information about the hospital sailed out of her hand and toward Alex, a frustrated noise coming from the back of her throat. Graciela knew that her hormones were playing a huge part, but her heart hurt too much to put the blame on them.
“You are not sorry, you would have stopped if you were sorry!”
Alex tensed heavily at her words. While he knew she was upset and he knew he should have told her sooner, she had… he couldn’t believe she’d say… Even if he wanted to blame the hormones, his temper wasn’t about to allow him to do so, and he shot a very irritated glare in her direction as he tried to think of some way to say this all without screaming at her. If he was sorry he would have stopped? Was she fucking kidding him? He took a deep breath, placing both hands on his desk as he stood, and leaning his body forward some as he looked directly at her. Was she fucking serious? He couldn’t help but let out a very unamused chuckle at the thought.
“If I was sorry, I would have stopped? If I was sorry, I would have STOPPED?” He laughed again, picking up a bottle and practically tossing it across the room in the same was she had the notebook – though not anywhere near her because angry or no, there was no way he was hitting the woman who was carrying his child with anything, not even something as small as a pill bottle. He hadn’t even playfully hit her with a pillow in months.
“Graciela, you’re PREGNANT, not STUPID. You KNOW what addiction is, don’t you!? You’re not some little twit who thinks… who thinks that I can just be given heavy pain killers in a hospital after having JUST RECENTLY quitting the last set of pills and then NOT GET READDICTED TO THEM? I was in there for THREE DAYS and was given FOUR pills at the very least EACH day – it doesn’t take very fucking long to get hooked back on this shit and… and you think I could’ve just STOPPED because I felt GUILTY?” He hadn’t noticed he’d started shaking and his hands were now gripping the edge of the desk so he wouldn’t throw another bottle and end up with more pills scattered on the floor.
“If anything the guilt makes it WORSE. I kept thinking about how much it would hurt you to know, how you shouldn’t – maybe even COULDN’T – handle something like this with every fucking other thing that was going on, how you’d be so fucking disappointed in me… That along with this fucking… fucking SIMON thing… It’s just TOO MUCH, okay? Just QUITTING was a bit TOO HARD even if I AM sorry.”
He took a deep breath again, closing his eyes and lowering his face. This wasn’t what he wanted to be doing. This wasn’t how he wanted to react to things. He was just… so on edge and to be caught like this… to be told things like that… It was just overwhelming and made his nerves twitch like no other. He swallowed roughly, breathing out the breath that he had taken in very slowly.
“I love you, Gracie. And I am sorry. But if you think I could have just stopped then I really need you to get the fuck out of my office. Now.”
Her eyes were locked on the ground the entire time, her tongue getting bit down upon. She knew, she really did know how hard it was, she’d done the research, she knew and she regretted saying what she did, but it didn’t stop her from still thinking it. It was…she wanted Alex to be immune to all of that, that’s what she wanted, that’s what she’d hoped. Graciela was a stupid optimist and thought that he’d be done with the medication once he got off of them, it had never occurred to her that he could get addicted again. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be happy, they were supposed to be getting on with their lives, they were supposed to be, but God must be mad at her for something because it felt like no matter what they went through something else was thrown in their way.
She felt dumb, just standing there, crying. Pathetic, too, because she hadn’t been able to help him, or even notice. What kind of wife does that? How could she even think of being a good wife if she wasn’t able to notice? Graciela tried to keep her head up but it felt like they’d switched positions, and now she felt like the child being scolded. She knew he was right---he was wrong, but he was right, she couldn’t throw those accusations at him, it was just hard, it was so hard to think that---her Alex, she couldn’t help him.
“You…” she felt pitiful for not noticing, but she was still mad at him, for not coming to her for help. That’s what she was here for. Graciela waved her hands toward herself a bit frantically, gesturing for Alex to come to her, embrace her, something, “Come---you are---you changing diapers for a fucking year, you—you---”
Because yes---she was mad, but---deus did she love this man, and she was going to fix this.
Who: THE SMITHS
What: Graciela finds out Alex is still on meds
Where: Their house
Graciela had been avoiding the stairs. She would get dressed in the morning and all that, but then go downstairs and basically stay down there until bed, if she could. It was just too much of a hassle, climbing up and down them, and really, if she wanted to be a pain, she could get Alex to get whatever she needed. Not that she abused this (like she knew she could, but she didn’t), but it kept her somewhat sane.
But! After Simon, after the dementors (deus, she’d been so worried about George, but he was okay--), she finally had some good news to share. Santiago had just firecalled with information about the hospital (and a rant about his backyard, hooligans---); they’d have their own room, he’d have everything ready for Zacharias when he finally decided to come.
Which was in three weeks.
Three.
Weeks.
Less.
Deus.
So she’d given in and made her way upstairs, slowly, but finally she reached the landing and backed into Alex’s office (ooh, they both had offices, see how nice a house was?).
“Guess what,” she started, faltering at the sight before her. Graciela’s hand gripped the doorframe as she focused on the pill bottles on his desk. She couldn’t find it in her self to accuse him of anything, her mind was simply flooded with—with—she couldn’t find the right word.
Alex hadn’t meant to get back on his pills. He’d spent a good deal of his time avoiding just that, actually, and thus had tried his best to explain to his doctors that he really didn’t want any more medication. They had insisted, of course, telling him that he would be just fine, and rather quickly, he’d found himself popping a pill whenever he felt the slightest ache – whether it be physical or emotional. He just always seemed to get a “headache” and needed whatever prescription it was that he’d been given. He hadn’t really read the label. He didn’t know. He kept telling himself that he wanted to stop – that he had to stop – but it couldn’t hurt to just go one more day, he’d… he’d stop tomorrow. There was too much stuff going on in the present to think about stopping right that second, wasn’t there?
Simon’s death had caused his need for said pills to increase and thus he found himself sitting in his office while Gracie seemed quite contented with her place downstairs, a few pill bottles placed on his desk and a handful in his hand. He had just thrown them into his mouth when he heard the door creak open, and froze without even swallowing them. He stared at his fiancée who was standing not five feet away now, his hand clasped on a glass of water.
Hm.
This was going to be a bit hard to explain.
His hand finally wrapped around the glass, he put it to his lip quickly, and swallowed, just to get the taste out of his mouth. He had forgotten how gross pills tasted when you let the protective coating melt on your tongue. He was still quiet for a moment after, his hand going to the bridge of his nose and pinching it roughly. Oy.
“I… er… I’d love to say it’s not what it looks like, but…”
“Shut up,” she snapped before he could continue. He had gone and swallowed them, right in front of her! Right in front of her, then he goes and---and talks like---like it’s nothing, like she caught him poking at the frosting of a cake.
Graciela shut the door behind her but didn’t step any further into the room, she could barely look at him, she felt so--betrayed, that was the word she’d been looking for. Alex was supposed to have slowly made his way off of the medications, she was supposed to be helping him, and here he was, hiding up in his office and taking them like candy. Like it was nothing. Graciela knew that it was hard, if you get back on---but---he was supposed to trust her with these things!
“How long,” she stated, because it wasn’t new, no, she knew Alex, he wouldn’t have been this careless if it was a recent thing.
He winced gently at her words, looking at the ground and sighing some. He had meant to tell her – really! It was just…He figured with so much else going on… Well, right. He didn’t have any excuses, really, and that was what it all came down to. Fiddling with one of the bottle caps, he shrugged, biting at the inside of his lip and not sure how to answer. His appearance at that point could have been considered one of a scolded child – pathetic for a full grown man, but understandable for anyone who had ever faced the wrath of a Cervantes as he was quite sure he was going to.
Again.
He needed to stop getting into these situations. Taking another sip from his water glass, he finally was able to look at her, his head tilted to one side some.
“Since after I got kidnapped,” he said plainly, continuing to try to act like it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Which it was. But whatever. “The doctors put me on them to help with the pain while I was in the hospital getting evaluated and didn’t listen when I said no.” There was a pause, before he looked at the desktop and muttered, “So it was a little hard to say no when they offered me a prescription.”
Since July? He’d been on them since July? Graciela wasn’t sure what made her eyes water more, the fact that he’d been lying to her for four months or the fact that she hadn’t noticed. Of course things had been strained, they were having a baby! They were moving into a new house! Her brother-in-law had been murdered, things! Things had happened but she couldn’t push past the guilt that consumed her.
Except, his calm, plain words angered her more than the guilt, and Graciela’s lips twisted into a deep frown.
“And when were you planning to tell me? After our son was born? Maybe you were saving it for Christmas, porque that would have been lovely.” She put her hand up to stop herself from saying anything else, and looked at the ground when she spoke, she couldn’t look at him, “No one forced you to do anything, Alex, I’m here--why—why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… soon! I … I just … With everything I didn’t… I didn’t want to… Upset… You…” The words got quieter and quieter as they came out of his mouth, realizing just how stupid he really did sound, but it had been his thought process, damm it! He wasn’t being logical. Rubbing his face some with his hand, he let out another long sigh, closing his eyes finally and trying his best to figure out how to get out of this without sleeping on the couch. It wasn’t looking promising.
“I… I um…” He paused for a long moment, before taking a shaky breath and murmuring, “I’m… sorry, okay? I just… I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”
“Four months. Four months.”
Graciela couldn’t get past that it had been four months. So—if he’d stopped taking them, what was it, when—early May, that means he lasted barely two and a half months. And she hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t noticed that her husband was slowly reverting back to—deus, but he had always behaved differently with her, why hadn’t any of his friends noticed? What about his sister? She probably knew, they were always telling each other secrets, just like she did with her siblings---Psyke probably had known, Alex had been hiding this from her, and she just wanted to—she wanted to—
She’d started to cry, now, and the notepad in her hand which she’d written down the information about the hospital sailed out of her hand and toward Alex, a frustrated noise coming from the back of her throat. Graciela knew that her hormones were playing a huge part, but her heart hurt too much to put the blame on them.
“You are not sorry, you would have stopped if you were sorry!”
Alex tensed heavily at her words. While he knew she was upset and he knew he should have told her sooner, she had… he couldn’t believe she’d say… Even if he wanted to blame the hormones, his temper wasn’t about to allow him to do so, and he shot a very irritated glare in her direction as he tried to think of some way to say this all without screaming at her. If he was sorry he would have stopped? Was she fucking kidding him? He took a deep breath, placing both hands on his desk as he stood, and leaning his body forward some as he looked directly at her. Was she fucking serious? He couldn’t help but let out a very unamused chuckle at the thought.
“If I was sorry, I would have stopped? If I was sorry, I would have STOPPED?” He laughed again, picking up a bottle and practically tossing it across the room in the same was she had the notebook – though not anywhere near her because angry or no, there was no way he was hitting the woman who was carrying his child with anything, not even something as small as a pill bottle. He hadn’t even playfully hit her with a pillow in months.
“Graciela, you’re PREGNANT, not STUPID. You KNOW what addiction is, don’t you!? You’re not some little twit who thinks… who thinks that I can just be given heavy pain killers in a hospital after having JUST RECENTLY quitting the last set of pills and then NOT GET READDICTED TO THEM? I was in there for THREE DAYS and was given FOUR pills at the very least EACH day – it doesn’t take very fucking long to get hooked back on this shit and… and you think I could’ve just STOPPED because I felt GUILTY?” He hadn’t noticed he’d started shaking and his hands were now gripping the edge of the desk so he wouldn’t throw another bottle and end up with more pills scattered on the floor.
“If anything the guilt makes it WORSE. I kept thinking about how much it would hurt you to know, how you shouldn’t – maybe even COULDN’T – handle something like this with every fucking other thing that was going on, how you’d be so fucking disappointed in me… That along with this fucking… fucking SIMON thing… It’s just TOO MUCH, okay? Just QUITTING was a bit TOO HARD even if I AM sorry.”
He took a deep breath again, closing his eyes and lowering his face. This wasn’t what he wanted to be doing. This wasn’t how he wanted to react to things. He was just… so on edge and to be caught like this… to be told things like that… It was just overwhelming and made his nerves twitch like no other. He swallowed roughly, breathing out the breath that he had taken in very slowly.
“I love you, Gracie. And I am sorry. But if you think I could have just stopped then I really need you to get the fuck out of my office. Now.”
Her eyes were locked on the ground the entire time, her tongue getting bit down upon. She knew, she really did know how hard it was, she’d done the research, she knew and she regretted saying what she did, but it didn’t stop her from still thinking it. It was…she wanted Alex to be immune to all of that, that’s what she wanted, that’s what she’d hoped. Graciela was a stupid optimist and thought that he’d be done with the medication once he got off of them, it had never occurred to her that he could get addicted again. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be happy, they were supposed to be getting on with their lives, they were supposed to be, but God must be mad at her for something because it felt like no matter what they went through something else was thrown in their way.
She felt dumb, just standing there, crying. Pathetic, too, because she hadn’t been able to help him, or even notice. What kind of wife does that? How could she even think of being a good wife if she wasn’t able to notice? Graciela tried to keep her head up but it felt like they’d switched positions, and now she felt like the child being scolded. She knew he was right---he was wrong, but he was right, she couldn’t throw those accusations at him, it was just hard, it was so hard to think that---her Alex, she couldn’t help him.
“You…” she felt pitiful for not noticing, but she was still mad at him, for not coming to her for help. That’s what she was here for. Graciela waved her hands toward herself a bit frantically, gesturing for Alex to come to her, embrace her, something, “Come---you are---you changing diapers for a fucking year, you—you---”
Because yes---she was mad, but---deus did she love this man, and she was going to fix this.
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