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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 2/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Heyo, yall! Just hope yall are enjoying this fic so far. I worked really hard on it, but so proud. So many times I just wanted to quit it. But I stuck it out!

Major TW for this chapter: Child abuse mentions // mental breakdown // Anxiety // Dementia mentions

2020

I flinched, feeling a hand lightly slap my foot twice. "Wake up, Princess."

I rolled over slightly, blinking as if to clear my vision. Jujubee looked as if she had been awake for hours, looking fresh as fuck in her dressing gown. She must have had a shower hours before because, despite the dry hair, I could smell the mango and papaya soap. Fuck, it smelt so good.

Then there was me; hair wrecked, makeup long expired, body smelling of that typical hangover smell. Like a hospital, except unclean.

I whined like a child, rolled back over on my stomach and buried my face hoping it would stop my head from pounding.

"Nope. Not happened." Jujubee sat down on the bed and shook me.

"What time is it?" I asked with my face still smushed into the pillow.

"It's 2PM." She answered.

That's what got me up. I threw the covers back and went to stand. "Fuck!"

Jujubee grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "Relax. It's our day off, remember?"

I whined even more, curling up with my head in her lap.

"Not that it makes a difference considering you're always late anyway," Jujubee added as she stroked my unbrushed hair.

"Shut up. I'm the boss. I can do what I want." I mumbled.

"Ah, Brianna Caldwell, you never change." Jujubee quipped. "Only follows the rules whenever it suits her, bosses everyone around - -"

"I do not, you whore. And can you please not speak to me so loud right now?" I pulled myself up and tousled my hair. "I need some shades or something."

I always needed shades when I was hungover, so Jujubee was already prepared. She pulled them from her pocket and handed them over. "Shade up, baby girl."

Life was already so much better with them on.

"But back to the topic at hand, though. Don't you remember the chess boys from high school?" Jujubee spoke a bit quieter now. "You literally bossed them around."

"They let me boss them around 'cause they wanted to sleep with me, Jujubee," I replied, reaching for my phone.

"And, you bossed me around too." Jujubee raised her brows.

"Mmmm, I don't remember that." I hummed, feeling pretty much over the conversation.

It took Jujubee an hour to convince me to get out of bed and clean myself up. After finally getting showered and dressed, we were out of the apartment and already heading to Starbucks.

I could have made my own coffee, but that required effort. And that I wasn't willing to give that day.

We were sitting at a booth in the back, with minimal effort in trying to go incognito. But this was a regular hang out for us. There was no need to worry about our names being shouted out. The baristas eventually learned to just bring our orders to us. It made Jujubee feel bad, but I didn't mind.

The barista, Kyle, came over and put our drinks down on the table.

"I deserve this. I really, really deserve this." I said, already taking a sip of my coffee.

"Congrats on last night. The boss said if you both need a refill, just let me know." Kyle winked. God bless Kyle. "So, When's the launch day?"

"Kyle, as charming as you are, you'll just have to wait like everybody else." I tried my best to beam a smile.

"Alright. Enjoy, ladies." And Kyle walked away.

Jujubee let her eyes follow for a moment longer. I know she was literally staring at nothing in particular, but I decided to have a bit of fun. "Go ask him out, Juju."

"Girl, you ask him out," Jujubee smirked. "I'm happy enough being a crazy cat lady. I don't need no man."

I knew it was a joke. Jujubee wasn't the type to encourage me to find someone. It was like she knew how it could bother me.

Despite liking the single life, I kind of did like the sound of being with someone. Maybe it was the fear of the past that stopped me from pursuing a relationship. I had a few girlfriends in the past. But they hadn't lasted long. I was afraid they would have somehow found out about my past self. Because, once upon a time, nobody would've even dared think of me as an attractive, promiscuous, alluring, single female.

But now that I had the glow-up of the century, dyed my hair blonde, I had quite a lot of admirers. It only really started to occur when NASA began sponsoring the project, bringing more traction.

My phone started ringing, but I paid no heed.

Jujubee, however, almost dropped her drink.

"Girl, why is Ed Sheeran calling you?" Jujubee raised a brow.

And as soon as the name met my ears, I was reminded of the night before. "Oh, God." I held my head in my hands.

"What did you do?" Jujubee was already groaning.

"I fucked up," I answered.

"You didn't have a quicky with him or something, right?" Jujubee questioned further.

I lifted my head, looking at her with squinted eyes. "What? No. Ew. Juju." I sipped my coffee before bearing the news. "OK, so...I don't know why I did it, maybe 'cause I'm a mess when I'm drunk, but I…" I lowered my tone, "kinda offered him the chance to be the first person to go into the other world."

"What?? I thought we were gonna do that!" Jujubee was freaking out.

"I know. I fucked up."

"Well, call him back."

"And, tell him what? 'Sorry, Ed. Jk'?"

Jujubee's forehead was in her hands, "I was really excited." She whined.

As I said before, this meant a lot to us. We hadn't discussed it with the team yet, but Jujubee and I had privately planned that we'd be first to enter the other world. So you could understand this was incredibly disappointing for her.

"OK. How about this? Ed will go in for 5 minutes. After that, we bring him back to Earth. And then we fly off by ourselves?" I suggested.

"I was looking forward to the pink sky. And the flying horses. And the…"

Jujubee went on a ramble as my phone began to ring again. I picked it up, letting it ring for a few seconds before declining Ed Sheeran's call.

I checked if there were any texts from him. Nada. But there was one message that caught my attention. The memory of reading it the previous night came flooding back.

Jujubee was still rambling, but I put my phone down and leaned across the table slightly. "Juju, do you remember Blair St Clair?"

Jujubee's expression changed instantaneously. "Girl, of course, I do. You were in love with her for years."

"Oh my God, can you whisper, please?" I questioned, the desperation in my voice very much apparent.

"Brianna, she's back in Ohio. We're in New York. I don't think anyone's gonna go and tell."

"You never know," I briefly looked behind me for fear that somehow the world decided to shit on my luck and make her appear in the booth behind me.

"Girl, chill out. And yes, I do remember her." Jujubee replied, "you know something that always stuck with me? Please don't ask why, but I'll never forget the day you told me you were in love with her. You came out to me that day too."

-_-_-_-

1995

"Juju, I gotta tell you something," I said, throwing my doll to the side of the fort. If I didn't tell her the truth now, I never would.

"What is it?" Jujubee sounded scared.

I crossed my legs in a pretzel shape, straightened my back and declared, "Juju, I like girls. And Blair St Clair is the girl I'm in love with."

I was expecting amazement, awe, shock. But Jujubee just seemed confused.

"What? How is that possible?" She asked.

"You promise you can keep a secret?" I offered my pinky.

Jujubee joined hers with mine. "Of course I can."

"OK." Our fingers remained twisted around each other. "Well, I saw two ladies in the mall kissing. And my Mommy told me girls can like girls. And I had an a-piffa-tree. The reason I like Blair so much is because I'm in love with her!"

"Brie-Brie, you need to slow down." Jujubee put her hand up. "If girls can like girls, then how come we never see girls kissing girls? It's always boys and girls."

"I don't know."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Nope."

"Then, how are you sure?"

"I don't know. You ever get that weird feeling inside that tells you that you're right? I can feel it. I know I'm not lying."

"Wooow." Jujubee looked away briefly. "Does that mean you like me?"

"I don't know. You're my friend, Juju." I shrugged. "I mean, maybe we should kiss just to figure it out."

Juju looked like she was contemplating this for a moment before nodding her head and sitting up. "OK!"

I didn't even hesitate. Instead, I moved closer and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Ew!" We both pulled away.

We both agreed to never do that again, nor ever speak of it.

As if nothing had happened, we continued on playing with our dolls for another hour before the rain came out.

I walked Jujubee home, feeling very much like 'the big girl' being all responsible.

And in walking back to my own place, wrapping my arms around myself, I saw Blair - walking alone, drenched from head to toe.

"Blair!" I ran towards her.

She turned to look at me, her face scrunched up, trying to see through the downpour.

Call it instinct, but I knew something was up, just from how she was looking at me. I put my hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?? Are you OK?"

"I'm lost. I-I'm trying to find my way home." She said quietly.

"What. How did you - -" I stopped myself from talking any further. Instead, I took Blair by the hand and pulled her towards the bus shelter off to the side of the road.

We both sat down when we got inside. She was shaking, close to catching a cold in the awful weather. Not to mention she had no jacket on. So I pulled my arm out of its sleeve and draped half of the coat over her.

"What happened to your coat?" I asked

"I didn't bring it." She replied.

"Why not? It's cold. You're going to get sick."

"I'm sorry. I just...ran."

I was silent for a moment. Then, "What do you mean?"

She was also silent for a moment, her blue eyes drifting to the ground. "Brianna...is it normal for Daddies to shout real loud all the time? Do they smash things a lot?"

No. It was not expected. I may not have had a Father figure in my life, but I knew well enough. "Blair, what happened?"

Blair clenched her fist around the jacket. "My Daddy...he…"

Despite her timid voice trailing off, I understood. She didn't even need to say it. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

She lifted her eyes to me, "I need to get home. I just ran as fast as I could. And somehow ended up here. I don't know my way back."

"I don't think you should go back," I admitted.

"I have to. Or he'll be even more mad."

I was wracking my brain. There was no way I could let her go back. "OK. Is there somewhere you can stay for a while? Somewhere close?"

"No." Blair shook her head. "Wait. Yeah. My Granny lives somewhere around here." She looked at me with optimism in her eyes.

"That's great! I know this place like the back of my hand. I bet I can find it in a few seconds."

After sitting for 10 more minutes, the rain was starting to settle, so Blair gave me the address, and off we went. I carried her bag for her. She was probably exhausted from all the walking.

All the while, I just listened as she talked about many things - Madonna, her Princess Belle doll, how Jade from school actually picked her nose when no one was looking. So many different topics. And I didn't speak a word. I guess I was just so...astonished. Here I was, walking along in a light rainstorm, hanging out with the prettiest girl in my class. How was this possible? Was this real life?

"You've been really quiet." Blair pointed out.

"Yeah, I just can't believe you're talking to me. What the fuck?" Yes, I said that.

Blair laughed at my potty mouth. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Maybe 'cause no one likes me."

Blair stopped in her tracks for a moment. "I like you."

I stopped, spun around, and looked at her with wide eyes. There was no way I heard her say those words. No fucking way.

"Come on. I know where we are now. Granny's house is around the corner." Blair began to move again.

But the butterflies in my stomach were going wild. I felt warm and wanted to just hug her. But I also didn't want to alarm her. Baby steps, Brianna.

I walked Blair to the house. Her Granny came to the door and was obviously quite confused. And Blair began to cry again.

I wanted to turn and run, feeling very out of place. But Blair grabbed me before I could leave and pulled me into a hug. She pressed her tear-stained face against my shoulder and whispered, "Thank you, Brie."

"I gotta go."

I pulled out of the hug and ran as fast I could. I don't know if I left her standing there confused or if she just knew by then it was just a me thing to be awkward.

But my mind was racing; Blair liked me. I knew not in the same way as I liked her. But, surely, that meant we could be friends.

Oh, how naive I was.

A few weeks later, it was the beginning of Summer. Mom took me to the park, and there was Blair with her friends.

I ran across the grass to the picnic blanket they were all sitting at.

"Blair!" I called excitedly. I practically threw myself down next to her, giving her a tight hug.

"Ew." Jade laughed.

"Shut up, Jade." Blair snapped.

"Are you friends with the freak now or something?" Carmen questioned, inching away from me.

"I'm not a freak!" I shouted.

"Uh, yeah, you are," Serena added. "We don't want freaks in our friend group. Go on. Get lost."

"Girls - -" Blair tried.

"You wanna join her?" Jade pointed her gaze at Blair, her face scrunched up in disgust.

I was waiting for it; The big 'fuck you' as Blair stood up, took my hand and walked away.

But she remained seated. Her eyes trailed down to the ground. I tried shaking her shoulder.

"Blair?" I spoke quietly.

She didn't say a word. It was as if she had turned to stone.

My body felt cold.

"See? She doesn't like ugly people like you. No one does." Jade smirked.

I remember the moment being more intense than it actually was. Because in a matter of seconds, the girls were screaming as I began to punch Jade in her bitchy face. I couldn't punch for shit. But if it left a bruise, I was happy.

"Brianna!" I heard my Mom's voice. Her dark arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from the now crying Jade. "We are going home right now." Mom threatened. But I didn't care.

From being dragged away from the fight scene all the way until we got home, I screamed.

Mom screamed back for a while when we were in the car. But you can't fight fire with fire. So she stopped when we pulled up.

I got in, I beat the fuck out of every object that came into my line of vision. And my shouting never stopped.

"No one wants you, ugly freak!" I smashed a vase. "Worthless piece of trash!"

Mom had been chasing me all over the house, trying to calm me down. But this wasn't like any tantrum I had ever had, and as Mom had no idea what was actually going on, she had no idea what to do.

She eventually scooped me up in her arms and held me tight as she sat on the ground. I screamed as I tried to fight off her grasp, downing out all her hushed whispers. "I got you, Baby. I got you. Mommy's here."

My screams did go on for another while, but as soon as they ended, all I could say to Mom was, "I should give up. Blair will never be my friend. I'm too ugly."

Mom stood me up, so she knew I was looking directly into her eyes. She pointed a finger in my face and spoke with a cracked but stern tone. "Don't say that. Never ever say that. You are so beautiful, and no one has the right to tell you that you're not. I want you to go look in the mirror, really, really look at yourself, Brianna. And I want you to see how pretty you are. Look at your hair, your brown eyes, your freckles. You are just as pretty as everyone else, girl. You are not ugly."

I squeezed my fists, feeling the hard lump in my throat. "Then why did my Mommy and Daddy give me away?"

Mom was stunned for a moment. She took my hand. "Baby, that had nothing to do with how you look. They…" she paused, trying to find the right words to use, "they just…" another pause, "look, I'll tell you when you're older. But I promise you are not ugly."

I couldn't hold on anymore. I let out a pained cry and immediately threw myself into her arms and buried my face in her shoulder.

-_-_-_-

2020

That was my first major emotional breakdown, marking the beginning of many more to come. But, unfortunately, Mom didn't want to immediately get me help. She had a feeling it would upset me further. And she was right.

Just as I had begun middle school, I had another huge episode. That was it. There had been too many episodes throughout those years.

You can try covering a crack in the wall with a pretty picture, but the problem would never go away, would it?

I couldn't stand therapy. Why was I the one to work on my emotions when I only felt the way I did because kids were assholes? Where were all the breathing exercises and meditation sessions to make them not be dicks?

But as much as I hated it, the older I got, I opened my eyes. What I hated the most was seeing the pain I was putting Mom through. So I really tried hard not to freak out.

I didn't want to upset Mom anymore. She really did her best. And to this day, I wouldn't change her for the world.

"We're here."

I was brought out of my thoughts as the cab pulled over. I had been so gone, just sitting in the backseat, staring at the magenta glass vase in my hands.

"Keep the change," I replied, handing the driver the money and thanking him as I got out.

He took my suitcase from the trunk and left it by my side. And with a goodbye, he drove off.

Standing at the bottom of the lawn, I looked at the house. Fuck, once upon a time, I wouldn't have been so in love with its appearance. I had no idea what my Mom was going for with the multiple colours. The outside was painted pastel yellow with a sky blue door and pink frame. Then there were the various flowerpots stuck onto the wall next to the door. All different colours; pink, green, orange or blue.

OK, I lied; as a kid, I fucking loved our house. Everyone else's was boring. But when high school rolled around, people would whisper how I was "the weird hippie chick from the rainbow crack house". So, you can understand why it quickly became an eyesore for me.

I knocked on the front door, feeling the excitement bubble within me. I had been so busy with the project, it was a few months since I last saw her in person. I glanced at the vase in my hand, the perfect Birthday gift. It was perfect because I got her a new one every year. Because I never got over the guilt from smashing her favourite vase as a child. This act was to make a point - to show that no matter how much I apologised, I was always sorry, and would always be.

I knocked again. There was only a barking behind the door. Good to know someone was in.

I still had my own key. No point in standing outside all day. I made my own way in, knowing I could just surprise her later.

"Hi, baby!" I spoke in a hushed tone as Piggie started to jump around excitedly. Fuck, I missed him so much.

I closed the door and knelt down next to the pug, bringing him into a hug and kissing him on the head. "You good boy," I said in between kisses, "Let's get you some food."

Standing back up, I made my way to the kitchen, and Piggie was only happy to follow. I still remembered where his food was kept, so I poured him a bowl. Then, while he was distracted, I took my suitcase up the stairs and into my old bedroom.

Fuck, there was always something so surreal about walking into it. I hadn't lived at home since before I went to college. From that moment on, Jujubee and I always had our own places. And now, I had my apartment in New York.

Meaning, the last time I had redecorated was years before my glow up (in personality and looks). The walls were pink, I remember them being a pretty pastel tone, but they looked duller now. Above my bed, the wall was littered with posters, writing and photos. I made eye contact with Reese Witherspoon on the Legally Blonde poster, remembering how I always wanted to be like her. Funny how I kind of did achieve that.

I realised I was just standing in the doorway, just staring. So, I sat the suitcase against my desk and went to lie down. I smirked as I found all 5'5" of my whole being still fit into it.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture of myself to Jujubee, the caption reading 'Hey, babe, my parents are out?￰ 😉😉 come over?'.

While waiting for her reply, I changed my pencil skirt and blouse, choosing to wear leggings and a tank instead. Suddenly, I felt 10 years younger.

An hour passed, and Mom was still nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe she's at work. Does she have a job?" Jujubee asked me through the phone.

"I... don't know, Juju," I murmured, my attention not really on the question but on the contents of the fridge.

There was a punnet of strawberries. I helped myself to a few.

"When was the last time you spoke to her? Seriously, Brie, I'm getting so nervous." Jujubee sounded concerned. I knew her mind was thinking of the worst. And oddly enough, I found it to be entertaining.

"A few months back, actually," I smirked. "She's been real quiet, to be honest." Piggie was at my feet, looking for one of the juicy strawberries. I shook my head at him.

"Oh God, no. Did you check every room? Talk to the neighbours?"

"Oh, fuck! Juju. My God, there's a head in the fridge!" I feigned terror.

"Brianna!"

"Relax. I'm fucking with you. I spoke to her last night." I took one more strawberry. Biting into it, the juice dripped down my fingers and onto the ground. Piggie was beyond happy now, licking it up. I let him be and made my way out of the kitchen.

"That's not funny, Brianna. Don't joke about that. I thought she was missing or...worse."

"Fair enough. Sorry, girl. Anyway, how's work today?" I walked into the living room and sat on the couch.

"Good, good. Ed Sheeran's team finally got in touch," Jujubee said with a hint of disdain.

I held my forehead in one hand, wanting to punch myself for even speaking to him the week before.

I groaned, "See, this is why I should stop drinking."

"Well, to be fair, you don't drink as much as you did back in college. But when you do, you go hard."

Jujubee continued talking, lecturing me about my life choices when I moved my foot and felt it touch something under the couch. It startled me at first, but I pulled out the item.

A slipper. Grandpa's slipper. Sitting back on the couch again, letting my eyes just stare at it. "Hey, Juju. I'm gonna go."

There was a sigh on the other end. "Fine. Not like I was talking about anything important or whatever."

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't worry. I still love you, whore." She said.

"Of course you do."

I made a nasty kissing sound through the phone. She was grossed out, of course, and hung up. I chuckled for a moment and put my phone away.

Piggie came into the room and jumped up on the sofa next to me. I began to pet him, my eyes now back on the shoe.

Grandpa wore his slippers more than he wore regular shoes. Every time he found out Mom had put them in the wash, he would be furious. I would always listen to him ranting and wonder why men were gross. But I'd also laugh at how he threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

There was one time, in particular. He had gotten mad for the same reason. He huffed and came into the living room, sitting down on the couch, in the very seat I currently was sitting. He was shaking his head, just looking at the TV.

I shuffled closer to him and offered a few potato chips. His frown was immediately reversed. His smile had never seemed brighter. He took a few chips and asked with a full mouth, "Hey, kiddo. Aren't you late for school?"

It was 2PM. On a Saturday.

My smile was beginning to fade, my eyes still focused on the slipper. I could feel it - a familiar twisting feeling from somewhere within my stomach, the oxygen in my lungs seeming to fail me, a tremble taking my hands over.

And then, Piggie licking my arm.

I flinched slightly as I was brought back to the present. I smiled, petting Piggie. "Where would I be without you, baby?"

Piggie didn't answer, of course. Instead, he just licked my hand, which was enough for me to chill out.

I put Grandpa's shoe back under the couch, now inspired to search more of the house. But before I got off the couch, I checked my phone. Jujubee had Snapchatted me.

Clicking into it, I froze for a moment. She was in her bathroom, the shower running behind her. I wanted to say she was the main element to the picture, cocking her head to the side, pouting her lips and raising a brow. Despite the fact Jujubee never sent me pictures like this, it wasn't the first time I had seen her in her lingerie, though. But, I couldn't help but glance at her black lacey bra. The breath was caught in my throat for a moment.

The text read, 'You OK, babe?'

Around middle school, Jujubee developed this 6th sense, knowing when something was up with me. It was impressive.

I lifted my phone up high, took a picture and made sure to get Piggie in the frame. He wasn't looking, however.

"Piggie." He was looking now. I smiled and took the picture. I captioned it, 'Just hanging out with this one'.

I hit send. And now filled with inspiration to go on a nostalgia trip, I got up from the sofa and went off to explore. I called Piggie to follow.

I found myself upstairs, standing in the doorway of Mom's room. It felt rude to intrude. After all, a bedroom wasn't just a bedroom. It was a sanctuary, a place to be yourself, to carry out your own private rituals free from judgement, a happy place. So it felt like an intrusion to invade her space.

But I spotted the perfume bottles on her dresser. There was one bottle, in particular, a fragrance she always bought. It was her favourite - a musky scent with a hint of amber vanilla.

I couldn't resist. I made my way to the dresser, lifted the bottle and smelt the underside of the lid. Immediately, I felt my body relax. It smelled just like her. And there was no smell sweeter than the smell of your own Mother. It felt safe, loving, warm. Now, I was even more excited to see her again.

That was as far as I'd go into her room. So I put the perfume back, ushered Piggie to get down from her bed and left.

I was back in my old bedroom. I wanted this nostalgia trip to be unlike any other. So I knew exactly where I'd find it. I looked in the drawers of my desk. And in the very bottom drawer, I found it; my old diary.

"This is going to be wild, Piggie. I just know it." I smirked, sitting down on my bed, my back against the headboard. Piggie curled up beside me. We were both sitting comfortably. So I began.

'Dear Dairy'

Already, I had to pause and laugh. 7 year old me would have been a legend in a spelling bee.

'Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'

Short and sweet, child me didn't beat around the bush. She just gave you the information you needed. That was it.

I flicked a few pages forward.

'Dear Diary,

I had another fight with Jujubee. I really don't want to upset her. But sometimes I get so angry, I don't know what to do. I lost a tooth today too. So I am going to leave a note to the tooth fairy. I want her to take all my anger from me instead of my tooth. I hope it works.'

I remembered that. I had gotten mad because we were playing house. I wanted Jujubee to be both the parents, and I'd be the two kids. She didn't want to. She wanted to play the part of a child too. I freaked out, of course. I specifically remembered telling her she'd do it if she cared about me. She said she did care. But in the heat of the moment, I didn't believe her.

"God, I was such a brat," I spoke quietly.

I skipped some pages, unsure of what I was to find. And seeing one specific name, I stopped flicking through.

'Dear Blair,

You are like the sunshine. You are…'

I stopped reading, cringing at my child self. Was this before I realised it was a crush or not? What was hilarious about this entry was how damn long it was. All other accounts were short and straight to the point. But this? It went on for 3 pages. I bet my younger self felt mega proud about writing so much. But now, I felt the need to build a fucking time machine, go back to that moment and tell little Brianna, "Guess what? Nothing happens. Blair never becomes your friend. She never feels the same way about you the way you feel about her, so stop before you make it worse for yourself!"

I decided I was taking this diary back to New York. I needed to investigate it more. And there were probably some accounts that Jujubee would cackle laughing at.

My nostalgia trip wasn't at its peak just yet. I needed something that would just send me over the edge of happiness. And I knew I'd probably find that in my memory box. But there was a problem. I had given it to my Mom, asking her to hide it away somewhere. And whenever I wanted to put something into it, I'd give it to her, and she'd hide it for me.

And I made her promise to only give it back to me when I turned 50. No matter how much I cried and begged, she could not break that promise. Young me knew one day I'd be on a one way trip down memory lane.

I was so tempted to find the box. Surely, it couldn't have been too hard to find. But Piggie growled for a moment, his ears perking up. He looked at the window and started barking. I was now aware of the sound of a car's engine. A familiar one at that.

Finally, Mom was home.

I peaked out the window to see she was grabbing her bag from the car.

Piggie and I raced down the stairs, taking the vase from the living room and waiting excitedly at the door.

Funny how with excitement there came a level of anxiety, the tiniest hint of fear bubbling in your stomach. And I felt it all as soon as I heard the jiggling of the key.

The door opened slowly as if she already knew something was unusual about the place like she was bracing herself for whatever she was going to find.

She peeked around the door. My smile was beaming.

"Happy Birthday!" I shouted.

"Jesus Christ!" Mom flinched, almost falling back and stamping on the ground. Piggie was going wild now, barking from all the excitement. "Brianna, you could have given me a heart attack!" She shut the door and clasped a hand to her chest.

I laughed at her over-the-top reaction and held out the vase. "I got you another one."

Mom looked at me, still panting from her shock. She was silent for a moment, and in that silence, I realised how much I had missed her.

Mom stepped forward, took the vase and put it to the side. As she pulled me into a tight hug, I could see her face scrunching up.

There are two people of people; those who can't stand seeing their Moms cry. And fucking liars.

Of course, I belonged to the first group. As you know, I…

Well, you already know. Here, let me put in a fun diagram of things I didn't want to deal with at that moment.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, you bitch." Mom spoke softly in my ear as she cried.

"I couldn't help myself." I forced a smile.

As much as I hated seeing her cry, I knew she needed it. Me being the only child she ever had, it broke her heart when I moved out in the first place. I'd imagine it was tough now that she was alone.

Yeah, she had Piggie. But it obviously wasn't enough. So I let her cry it out as she hugged me. I could smell the perfume, and again, I felt that safety, the security a Mother's love brings.

When she pulled away, she immediately moved to the kitchen, already brewing some tea. I let her know that I didn't mind if she had to go upstairs and change or anything. But she insisted we get into the catch-up.

"I invited some people from work to come over later. You remember the flower shop beside the old church?" Mom rambled, her shaking hands pouring the tea into two mugs.

"Of course I do," I answered, sitting at the table, with Piggie in my lap.

"Yeah, I work there now." Mom replied.

I felt bad. This shouldn't have been news. It was my part to already know that.

Mom sat at the table, placing the mugs down too. Piggie's attention was drawn to them, licking his lips with thirst.

"So I hope you're not jet-lagged, girl." The excitement was practically radiating from her face.

I was a bit exhausted, but she deserved to have a great night. "I'm good. Don't worry."

"Oh, and your aunt is coming." She added, sipping her tea.

"Aunt Monét! Yes, bitch."

It had been a very, very long time since I last saw Monét. She knew how to turn a party. And she was always so glamorous. I remember numerous times as a child asking her to teach me her ways, be my mentor, so I could grow up to look as good as she did.

"So, it's gonna be a long night. Be prepared." Mom said.

"So, it's a party?"

"Not my plan, but knowing Monét, that's how it will turn out. Anyway, I saw pictures from the event last week. You looked great up on that stage, baby. Keep doing me proud."

I gave her a gracious smile as I sipped my tea. A small drop fell onto my lap. Piggie was searching for it, but it had already soaked in. Sorry, Piggie.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up, though," I said, playing with one of the dog's ears.

"'Fuck’ always has been your favourite word," Mom shook her head, "Go ahead. Tell me, what did you do?"

"So at the after-party, I kinda offered Ed Sheeran to be the first person to go through. Please don't ask me why. The answer is; I was drunk. I don't have a more logical explanation for you right now."

Mom was silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Ed Sheeran? Why him?"

"I told you, I have no idea." I sipped my tea. "I'm just a fucking idiot when I'm drunk."

"So, what now? Is he actually going to do it?"

"Yep. His team got in contact. Everything is set in stone." I was ashamed of the whole Ed Sheeran thing, but now telling this to my Mother, it felt all the more embarrassing.

"Oh, God. This is going in history books, girl." Mom held her forehead in her hand.

"I know," I reciprocated. "Even worse, now they're asking the big questions like 'is the atmosphere safe on the other side?' We're still in the middle of working all that out."

"OK, asides from the Ed Sheeran fuck up," Mom put her hand on mine, "I am extremely proud of how far you've come since you were just a kid."

Uh oh. This wasn't what I wanted.

"And I know you're so busy with this whole thing, but sometimes, I just wish you'd call."

Fuck. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no. I don't wanna make you feel bad, girl. Like I said, you're a busy lady." She held a hand up.

But still, I felt bad.

"Shit. I was supposed to pick up some lemonade on the way home." Mom stood up, taking her tea with her. She had barely touched it.

"I could go to the store if you want," I suggested, taking a big gulp of tea.

"I mean, if you wanna, go for it. Tina still works there. It would be nice to see her again." Mom continued. She reached in her pocket.

I kissed Piggie on the head before putting him on the ground. "It's OK. I got it." I stood up from the table.

We had a bit of back and forth about who paid. I left before she could even give me her spare change.

Before I walked out the door, Piggie looked sad to see me go. Of course, I was coming back, but he didn't know that. Therefore I felt guilty.

I put my sunglasses on as I walked out the door. It wasn't even sunny out, but I knew I'd probably get stopped by people I used to know to dive deep into conversations about how far I had come. I had things on my mind, so many thoughts circling in my head.

I knew I should have put more effort into staying in contact with Mom. But after years of putting her through hell, I felt a sense of guilt. There were a few times I'd message, and somehow the conversation would take a turn, and she'd bring up a childhood memory.

I was done with my past. I was once a troubled child who eventually grew up to have a better mindset. I didn't want to relay the breakdowns, all of the vases I had smashed.

Then I realised how much of a contradiction that all was as I realised it was all that was on my mind as I walked down the street. So I plugged in my earbuds and drowned out the thoughts with whatever Spotify had to offer.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #bob the drag queen #blair x cracker #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #grinder #concrit welcome #tw breakdown #tw child abuse mentions #tw dementia mentions

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 4 years

Text

Tough Guy (DonnyxFem!Reader) (Pt.1)

Requested by @sodapop182

@owba-chan @war-obsessed inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists!

A/N: I learned so stuff about ww2 nurses, and omg they were baddies

A/N 2: Yall...we need nurses/doctors/CNAs/Rns, now more than ever, Stay inside and do them a favor <3

PT 2 Here

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His blood was spilling onto the snow, pooling through layers of jackets the basterds wrapped him with. His blood was begginning as a slow drip of crimson on white, like cherries in the snow.

The basterds couldn't help him, and they couldn't afford to lose another basterd.

When Donny woke up, he was in an aid station. That never happened to any basterd before. He felt like he didn't deserve it.

So when he realized you were taking his temperature, and his vitals, he shifted, "I don't need your help."

You raised your eyebrow.

"I don't know why they send you all out here anyway. We can take care of ourselves. We have to. I don't need this. I can-"

The way he said 'we' irked you.

You knew he was talking about the soldiers, forgetting war efforts involved everyone. There were civilians, women, children, medics, engineers, any and everyone everywhere left life as they knew it. Left it all behind, and put it all on the line. Even if they weren’t on the front line, it didn’t mean it wasn’t valuable.

You decided to play his game. You had the time.

You stood back, and crossed your arms, "Aw, don't like seein’ dames in charge, huh?"

"Wh.." He sputtered, realizing how his tone came off, "No, I...I meant...Uh...That's not what I meant! I..."

You smirked, "Alright tough guy. You still got some shrapnel there. You don't need me, right? Here." You handed him a scalpel.

He stared at you blankly.

You stared right back, your arms were crossed, your eyebrow raise, containing a laugh of amusement behind a face of routine. "Well, sergeant? I'm waiting."

His lips parted, but no words came out.

He was Donny Donowitz. He had never been speechless in his life.

You crouched over him, "Look. Your job might be to kill the enemy, but my job is to keep you alive."

This time, he raised his eyebrow. His head tilted to the side, and his dark eyes tried to see through yours.

He couldn't read you.

You stood back up, "Sometimes we can't do that," You sighed, sometimes it was too much. There were days where the blood didn't stop, there was no time to eat, no time to sleep.

There was a commotion out in the corridor.

There had been an air raid over a nearby town...Which meant chances were you wouldn't be able to save someone that night.

You looked back at Donny, and shrugged, "Hang tight, tough guy."

"Wait...I-"

You looked back at the door.

You knew he wouldn't say it.

He was too proud.

He wouldn't admit he needed you.

It kind of gave you some satisfaction, but, at the same time, there were others that really needed you.

Donny, in the mean time, slumped back down.

What was he going to say?

He stared at the ceiling, looking for those words as his fever took him back to night.

****

Donny's eyes went wide.

He flailed, and shot straight up, immediately trying to get up. The nurse that was in the room at the time couldn't get him to calm down, and there were no sedatives at hand.

"Y/N?! SOMEBODY! GET ME SOME GODDAMN SEDATIVES!"

In no time, you marched in.

The sole look on your face made Donny Donowitz stand down.

He was genuinely terrified.

You were not having it.

Your hair was pulled back, a few wild strands undone from the long hours. Your sleeves rolled up from your day turned graveyard shift. Your stern, unamused expression settled him down immediately.

You held up a syringe.

He immediately backed down.

Because if there was one thing Donny couldn't handle, it was syringes.

He could scalp all the nazis in the world, and bash as many of their brains in as he pleased....but a needle was an absolute hell no.

"Hey hey, hey, what's all the commotion in here, huh?"

That was a rhetorical question, of course. Because Donny was the most problematic patient you’d ever had. So you immediately looked to him. The only conscious patient in the room, and you muttered "Oh of course."

He gathered his strengths back up, "I gotta go, I gotta get back out there."

You looked at the other nurse. "Lana, can you get private Martinez down the hall some more morphine? I'll handle this."

Lana, the other nurse, smiled and nodded gratefully as she bounded down the hall.

"You're not ready to go back out there."

"But-"

You gently pressed your fingertips against his covered wound, and he flinched as a wave of sharp pain struck him.

“See.”

He shook his head, and started to sit up, "I'm fucking fine!"

You couldn't believe it. Their pride and stubborness was the number one thing that got those boys hurt and right back to you.

Or worse.

Six feet underground.

"Hey." You raised your voice.

Normally, you weren't that nurse....but Donny wasn't making it any easier.

It had been a tough week.

There had been more casualties than usual...

No matter how much training you got, nothing could ever prepare you for that. Not those sad eyes that would never see victory, or home again...

You stood over Donny, "I didn't bust my ass trying to save you, just so you could go and-"

"Save me?!"

You glared, "Yeah. You."

"You didn't save me, " he huffed, "The boys brought me in."

"Oh." You picked up a tin, and shook it around. A metallic clink began to ring through the room. "And who took this fucking bullet out of your belly? Who stopped you from spilling your guts out? Who closed up that wound when your sloppy team couldn’t? All the lovely ladies here."

He was silent for a moment.

He lowered his voice, and muttered, "You don't know what it's like out there, sweetheart."

Sweetheart?

You gritted your teeth.

You weren’t taking a back seat. You’d worked too hard all your life.

Smoke practically flared out of your ears.

"No?" You lowered your voice too, not to comfort him, but to confront him.

"C'mon sergeant. Nurses see all the blood you don't have to. We sit with the dead and the dying day in and day out. We stitch you up, and send you back out there. Hell, we go out there."

You knew he was going to say it wasn't the same.

Somehow, sometimes you thought it was worse...

Millions of lives were in your hands. Seeing even one go was enough to make you wonder about it all.

"I was there... the Blitz." You had the burns to prove it. You were there, on the lines of multiple battles, but that basterd didn't need to hear your biography.

Just your point.

"I know what's happening, because I've been on the front lines. A lot of us have. You don't think we do? Well guess what tough guy, hundreds of us have been hurt or killed out there. My sister's a nurse. You know where she is?"

He shook his head.

"Yeah. I don't either. She's a POW somewhere in the goddamn pacific. And my brother. Know where he is? A fuckin' captain training kids, 18, 19, 20 year olds to come out here and join the circus. So welcome to the club, tough guy. We all got front row seats here."

He heard you slam your fist down on the stand by his cot, and you left.

He turned his head, and saw you left a few pain killers by his glass of water.

He woke up again, in the middle of the night. His eyes fell on the clock hanging over the doorway.

It was almost 3 AM.

He spotted a figure, slumped in the corner.

You were sitting in a chair, drinking out of a canteen.

"Can I have some?" He smiled a little.

You closed the cap, and rolled your eyes on the ceiling, and sighed, "Nope. You're in a hospital."

"Then how come you get some?" He thought he had you.

You smirked and looked at him, "Cause I'm not on medication."

"But you're on duty."

"Off the clock."

He noted your hair was down, and nodded, then asked softly, "Then why are you here?"

You smiled a little and looked at him, "Seems to be the only way to keep you here."

He chuckled a little, though it hurt, and he gripped his wounded side.

You were both silent then.

You pressed your back against the chair, and your head leaned back against the wall, and you shut your eyes, though you were far from sleeping.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but you knew it had been quite a while.

"Hey...nurse..."

You peeked one eye open, "Sergeant?"

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when you get home?"

You sighed, and thought for a moment.

You could say the standard issue answer: Hug your mother. See someone you love. Find your friends.

You'd thought about home a lot, sure. But never really thought about going home. You'd seen so many that never would go home. You'd been on one front line too many. You never had a guarantee of making it through a whole day. So you never gave yourself the luxury to think of that hope at all.

"Get a rootbeer float." You decided.

It was true.

There was a mom and pop shop down the street from your home. You hoped it was still there when you got back. Somehow you hoped all your friends would be in the same booth like they were every Friday night, after school, after work, before they all volunteered or got drafted.

You looked to the tired soldier "What about you, sergeant?"

He smiled a little, "Get a piece of pie."

"Oh yeah? Boston cream pie?"

"Huh?"

You shrugged a little embarassed as you pulled the covers back over him, "You...got that kinda accent..."

He smiled, "Should."

You smiled softly, "See you in the morning, sergeant." You turned and started walking out of the room.

"Wait..."

You turned to look at him.

"Y/n...that's your name, right?"

You nodded, "Yeah..."

"I'm uh....I'm..." He couldn't appologize, of course, that pride was hitting in.

You nodded, and spoke softly, "Yeah, I know."

He sat up, and it didn't hurt. "You uh...you do good..."

You laughed a little, "Gee, thanks. I never woulda guessed." You sat by his side.

In the morning, a doctor came by.

Donny was discharged from the aid station. He stood up, and turned around, searching the room... Three nurses were there, and none of them were you. As he walked down the hall, he glanced into each room, but couldn’t find you. He stood out in the snow, and sighed. His breath forming alost cloud as he whispered your name in defeat. “Sergeant Donowitz?” He turned and found a soldier in a jeep, waiting to drive him to the end of allied lines, where the basterds would be waiting for him. He got into the jeep, and turned around one last time. You stood on the highest floor of the makeshift hospital. It hurt having to see so many people that wouldn’t make it. Talking to them made it hurt more.... But falling in love was a million times worse. You shook your head. That couldn’t be why it made your heart sink... Why did it hurt so much to watch him walk out? That was what usually made you relieved for a patient. You didn’t want to answer that... **** Months passed. The basterds were walking through a small town in France, recently taken back by the allies and the resistance. The snow had long metled away. The skyw as bright blue. It was an early summer morning. There were soldiers everywhere. Nurses and medics responding to the wounded. The basterds were staying there for a day or two, and then continuing on their mission. Aldo gave them a “day off” which was rare for the basterds. Rarer still was a coincidence like the one Donny was about to live. He spotted someone, in civilian clothes, but with the sharpness of a fighter, and the soul of a basterd, and the heart and courage only a nurse could have. “Y/n...” You turned around, and smiled, unable to believe it as you ran to him, and threw your arms around him. He smiled down at you, and you giggled, “Still a sergeant, huh?” He laughed, and rolled his eyes, and kissed you. You spent the rest of the day together, and at sunset, when the boys had to meet back up, Donny walked you to the aid station. “Meet me after everything...When the war’s done...” You nodded, “I’ll be right here, tough guy.” He looked back at the waiting basterds, then back at you. He couldn’t tell you about the mission, or that the war would be over sooner than you thought. That was all classified. He only told you they were heading to a small town called Nadine. He kissed you one last time, adn walked away with the rest of the basterds. He llooked back at you, adn this time, you were still there. And you’d be there, for him when it was all over, just as you’d been there, like every other nurse, when it was all beginning.

Amazing art by @sodapop182 y'all should check out her blog 😭💕

#Donny Donowitz #donny-donowitz #donny donowitz imagine #donny donowitz x reader #Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #Quentin Tarantino #eli roth

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