i know this has been done already but since u reblogged a post about it i would absolutely kill for your take on if karolina found shiv scheduling her grief instead of tom 🙏
first off, thank you so much for the ask, and sorry for the long long wait!!
secondly, i've cheated a bit - this was supposed to be a part of the fic that i'm currently writing, but i've had to cut it. I'm really fond of it, though, so I hope you like it :)
it's a much milder take than i'd envisioned, and in the context of an established relationship i definitely would've made it angstier, but i think it fits somewhat close to canon
read below <3
'Indulged child' — seven letters, starts with an S
or the healing properties of the NYT Games app
Karolina steps into the meeting room, tension already melting off her shoulders, and almost trips on the poorly installed carpeting when she spots Siobhan sitting at the end of the conference table. Her head is bowed, cradled between her hands, so Karolina can’t see her face.
“Oh, sorry.” she blinks, stopping a few feet away from the table. “I didn’t know you had the room booked.”
Karolina watches as Shiv turns her head, attempting to cover the fact that she’d been crying. She wipes hurriedly at her nose, and only meets Karolina’s eyes after she’s composed herself.
“It’s fine.” she shrugs. “I’m done anyway.”
Then, Shiv rises from her chair quickly and begins clearing her things off the table before Karolina has the chance to say anything. She hasn’t brought many things: some pens, a notebook that’s been opened on a blank page, a pack of tissues, Shiv’s tablet—just enough knick-knacks to make it seem like she’d been working. Shiv’s back is turned to Karolina so she can’t see all of the table, but she knows it couldn’t take more than a few seconds to gather everything.
Still, she stays silent, watching the lines of Shiv’s shoulders like landmines, like birds about to take flight. As if reminding herself of their existence—and reminding herself to control them, she pulls her hands closer to herself.
“Are you—”
“I’m good.” Shiv cuts her off. She finally turns to face Karolina, her things now stacked on top of each other in her hands. “It’s all yours.” she nods towards the table.
Karolina takes a tentative step forward as Shiv starts making her way out of the room. As she approaches the table, she spots Shiv’s phone lying face down. She sets her things on the table, before turning to Shiv.
“Oh, Shiv, I think you forgot—”
As she calls out, the phone begins ringing. She picks it up, turning it around to see the timer notification flashing on the screen.
“Were you meditating?” she frowns, cracking a smile.
She reaches to hand Shiv the phone, pretending not to see the tiny trail of blood pooling at the base of her thumb nail.
“No.” Shiv swallows. A beat. “Crying, actually, yeah.”
She clears her throat, tilting her head as if challenging Karolina to say anything. To throw a punch.
“I—I’m so sorry, Shiv.” Karolina blinks, barely croaking the words out. “I’ll let you—”
“It’s fucking fine, Karolina.” Shiv snaps. “Take the goddamn room. I’m done.”
Her eyes are red-rimmed, and the hand she’s raised to silence Karolina is just shy of shaking.
“I’m just hiding out from Kendall.” Karolina sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “He keeps asking me for feedback on his pitch but all it is, is just—buzzwords.”
She catches the faintest smile flash across Shiv’s face, which spurs her on.
“Dynamic. Innovation. Convergence.” she coos, raising her brows and shaking her hands in front of herself like an old-timey snake-oil seller.
That gets a full-fledged chuckle out of Shiv, and when Karolina drops her hands and sets her face into a familiar scowl it erupts into real laughter. She lets Shiv enjoy this brief reprieve, before gesturing to the room.
“So please, take the room. I have my assistant blocking it as important, so it’s yours for the next hour. I can hide out someplace else.”
She doesn’t give Shiv a chance to refuse, grabbing her things and turning to leave before Shiv takes a step forwards, blocking her way.
“I’m not going to sit here and cry for an entire fucking hour.” Shiv scowls, shaking her head. Then, she nods towards Karolina’s bag and the laptop peeking out of it. “What were you gonna do while you were hiding?”
“Catch up on work, probably, I don’t know.” Karolina pulls her lips into a tight line. “Maybe a crossword?”
“Crossword?” Shiv raises a brow. She looks Karolina up and down, frowning. “How old are you, again?”
“Right, sorry—” Karolina sucks her teeth, raising a pointed brow. “I assume the last puzzle you were able to solve came on the back of a cereal box?”
“Well, yeah, because after that I got real hobbies.” Shiv shakes her head, her grinning. “What, d’you play those hidden object games, too? Look for tiny fucking keys in those weird drawings?”
Karolina looks down as her cheeks start burning. Shiv catches it, and bursts into laughter.
“Oh my god. Karolina, no.”
A part of her wants to believe she’s only doing it for Siobhan’s sake. That she’s humoring the other woman as an act of kindness—some version of an apology for not extending any kind of support after Logan’s death. But she’s apologized enough times in her life to know one rarely finds delight in the act of apology, so when her eyes meet Shiv’s and she lets her lips turn up into a smile, Karolina knows the real reason she hasn’t left the room already is much simpler—she doesn’t want to.
“What hobby should I pick up, then, Siobhan?”
“God, there’s so many.” Shiv’s cheeks puff out. “Let’s see…”
She starts listing what Karolina guesses are her ideas of a pensioner’s hobbies: gardening, knitting, pickling, making jams—getting all the way down to walking around parks and standing all still and creepy to watch pigeons.
With each finger she uses to enumerate, Shiv’s grin widens. Karolina nods her along, pretending to be impressed until Shiv runs out of ideas.
“Or just volunteer at an elderly home.” she shrugs. “I’m sure the ladies would love to have you over for canasta.”
“Mhm.” Karolina nods, pursing her lips. “I’ll think about it.”
They sit in silence for a brief moment, neither making a first step.
“So, uh, can I see one?” Shiv finally asks.
“See what?”
“One of your crosswords, nerd.” she chuckles.
“Oh.” Karolina blinks. “I mean—really, Shiv, I can let you be—” she points to the door.
“Well, I don’t feel like crying anymore.” Shiv clears her throat, cutting her off. “And I don’t feel like going back out there yet, so… Unless you’re, you know, very private about your… crosswords.”
Karolina rolls her eyes. As she turns around to rummage through her bag for her tablet, Shiv steps closer until she’s right behind Karolina. When she leans forward to put her own things back on the table her arm brushes against Karolina’s. From up close, Karolina can distinguish each thin trail of blood wrapped around the irises of her eyes, and the blue shadows creeping up from under her concealer.
In the months after her own father’s passing, Karolina remembers going through them like candies.
Each week, she would reach into the bottom of her bag and pull up crumpled up receipts for concealer, whiskey, and the occasional lottery ticket—her dad’s guilty pleasure.
She used the same numbers each time, just like he'd taught her: each of their birthdays, twenty-eight, and eleven.
On the last ticket she bought, she put down the date of his death: seventeen, three, twenty, eight, then twenty-eight, and eleven.
It won her $10 that she never bothered to cash in.
So, she knows what it’s like—the make-up, the perfectly timed crying breaks, the split ends, the furrowed brows. The way it would hit (and still does, sometimes, on rainy days) so suddenly it would leave her breathless, like something had dislodged itself within her chest and all day long she’d have go on with her business as if that horrible rattling wasn’t ringing in her ears and reverberating inside her entire body like a war drum.
Karolina knows what Shiv is going through, but she also knows that grief is like a fingerprint. That it belongs so intimately to the person going through it. Defined by the very matter of their being, and from the moment it has formed—defining them in return.
So she doesn’t offer an apology, or a hug or, worse, advice. Instead, she sits down and waits for Shiv to do the same. When she does, Karolina turns on her tablet and opens the crossword app with her upturned hand stretched out towards Shiv, palm open and fingerprints exposed.
Then, Karolina begins explaining the basic rules of crosswords.
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