Post by mimms on May 28, 2005 14:05:19 GMT -5
TITLE: Grace
AUTHOR: Mimms
RATING: PG
DISTRIBUTION: Here, or ask!
FEEDBACK: Would be greatly appreciated via PM or this thread
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine but I'm grateful for them anyway
SUMMARY: I need you, Karl
PAIRING: Karl / Susan
CHARACTERS: Susan, Karl
YEAR: 2005
SPOILERS: None
DATE: 27 April 2005
It’s been a long day. I’ve felt exhausted for the past few weeks. Work hasn’t been that busy, but emotionally the last couple of months have tired me, and I consider taking some time out from work. Maybe I could go and see Billy?
I miss him. I miss my son. Mal and I haven’t been on the best of terms since he saw the way I treated Susan last year, and although Lib called me after the heart attack, we haven’t had the relationship that we used to have for a long time now.
I miss Bill.
I miss my family.
***
I’m in shock. He’s saying something, I think, he’s apologising, but I can’t hear him, I can’t, I can’t believe that…he has to go, he needs to go, I need him to leave…
“Get out.”
He stands in front of me, repentant, but I can still see the anger. Fury. Blind, raging anger.
"Get out of my house."
He takes another step towards me and my heart leaps in fear, shame...
"Susan, I'm so sorry, it will never, ever happen again..."
“I’m asking you to leave.”
Don’t sound needy, Susan, don’t sound like it’s a problem...
He nods and turns, and walks out of my house.
Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath…and don’t cry. Susan, don’t cry. But I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure what I should do, what should I do? There’s no-one here to ask. I can’t ask anyone because there’s no-one here, and there’s no-one here because the kids left home a long time ago….deep breath, don’t cry…and Sindi is away and Karl doesn’t live here anymore…
Karl.
Karl.
***
I’m half asleep to some terrible reality show and a knock at the door provides me with the perfect excuse to mute the television. It’s gone ten o’clock, and if this is Isabelle returning to collect the rest of her things I won’t be happy. I asked her to move everything out over two months ago but I haven’t seen much of her since then. She’s avoiding me, and I’m pleased about that, and I have no intention of seeing her more than is absolutely necessary.
I open the door.
“Susan.”
“Hi, Karl…”
Her eyes. Instantly.
“Come in, come in.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No, no.”
She’s fidgety and edgy and clipping her answers. Have I done something she’s cross about?
“I was just going to get some juice – are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No.”
I nod and fill a glass from the apple juice carton in my fridge. I must remember to get some more tomorrow.
I’m not quite sure why she’s here. We’ve spoken a little since I found out about the baby, but most of the time I’d been furiously livid with Izzy, and Susan had been fiercely defensive of me. She was more devastated by the whole situation than I was. She never said it, but I knew. I just knew. The baby, Darcy, me…her life turned upside down in less than a year.
We haven’t seen each other out of that context since then, and I wonder why she’s here now. I look at her. Standing in the lounge with her back to me, eyes on the clock.
I can’t read her body language at all.
That’s unusual for me.
***
He takes my coat.
“Is this a social visit, or…”
I look up at him. How do I say what I want to say? How will he take it? Maybe I don’t even need to tell him, maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all.
What will you say, Karl? Will you be angry? Will you be ashamed? Will you start shouting and pacing and making that cross face that you do so well?
Will you love me?
So I don’t respond. I just sit down. And he doesn’t push for an answer but takes a seat on the couch beside me and we sit together, in complete silence.
Time keeps on moving.
***
Her edginess is making me nervous. I don’t know what to expect. Is she about to scream and shout at me for something I don’t know about? Is she here with bad news? Has she found out more about Darcy? Isabelle?
No. Her eyes…
Talk to me, love.
***
Suddenly.
“Did I interrupt something?” She gestures at the television.
“Oh, no – some reality programme about athletic training, or something…I’m not really sure.”
She nods.
“We can still watch it, I don’t mind.”
She’s hiding from something. Covering it with a game show, covering with things that are unimportant. I click the television off mute and the programme’s host is announcing the next track event.
“Who do you think will win, Karl?”
Covering it up.
You don’t need to hide with me, Susan.
***
Forty minutes later and I can’t believe that people watch these shows. Susan was engrossed the whole way through. Eyes intently on the television. She didn’t look at me once. Too intent, too focused. Even now the programme’s finished she won’t look at me.
“Deborah shouldn’t have won for the girls, don’t you think? And I can’t believe that other girl – what was her name, the one with the dark, straight hair – I can’t believe that she made so many mistakes on the long jump. She was doing so well.”
I don’t respond to her. She’s talking too much. Too enthusiastic.
“Clyde didn’t do too badly for the men although I’m glad I didn’t put a bet on him because I thought he’d have been better at the track events. Don’t you Karl?
‘Don’t you Karl.’ She’s not even looking at me. She’s speaking to me, asking me a question and she still can’t look at me. I’m not answering her; she doesn’t care about the programme. Instead:
“Susan, what’s wrong?”
Her eyes. Instantly.
“You can talk to me.”
Please, Susan.
She looks right at me, then. And the connection is so strong, so painful, and I immediately understand.
‘I just need a friend tonight’
She knows I know, then, because she looks away from me.
***
I’m not going to tell him, I don’t think I can.
I look away and hope he isn’t looking at me.
But of course he is, and I can’t hide away and I can’t hide from him…deep breaths… Time will go on and I will have to go with it, I can’t stop it now, I can’t stop it and disappear and wish the world away…
And instantly I feel his hand on my neck, soothing, reassuring, and I can’t help it, I can’t resist it, and I know why I came here, and I know why I needed him, and I turn into his shoulder and bury my face and hide.
I need you, Karl.
***
She looked away from me, and that’s only ever meant one thing with her.
I don’t expect her to respond. I know her body language this time. I don’t understand what’s led up to it, and I still don’t know her eyes… But I know when she’s hurt, I know when she’s trying to hide it, and I know when she’s not going to talk to me.
Shall I comfort you, Susan? Should I put my arms around you? Should I say all the right things and kiss your hair and remind you that I’m here? Should I pretend I understand?
But I don’t understand, so I put my hand on her neck and stroke it and look at her.
She turns to me, then. Her eyes down, her face tired; lonely and miserable. I can’t do anything but put my arms around her.
I know you needed me, tonight, Susan.
You know I’m here.
***
I’m so grateful that he knows me so well. I’m so grateful to him for just being here, that I didn’t have to do this alone.
His gentleness, his quietness.
He takes my hand from his chest and he just holds it.
So understated and loving.
Karl.
He keeps hold of my hand.
‘I don’t want to let go’
I squeeze his hand in return.
‘neither do I’
***
I must have drifted off because something disturbs me from sleep half an hour later. My eyes drift to the clock. Almost twelve o’clock now. Susan’s still in my arms, we’re still on the sofa, the television’s still on.
What woke me? Something…
Dampness on my neck, my arm.
She’s crying.
So quietly.
***
It startles me and the only thing I know to do is to pull her closer to me. What hurt you tonight, Susan? What happened? Has someone said something to you? Done something to you?
One hand caressing her back, the other on her neck, in her hair, pressing her to me.
Quietly. “It’s alright.”
I kiss her hair.
Whispering. “I’m here.”
She cries openly now, breaking my heart. What made you need me tonight, Susan, need my comfort? What’s made you cry like this?
“It’s alright, sweetheart.”
Her hand clutching at my jumper; me kissing her hair.
Stifling her cries; reassuring her.
Shaking; caressing.
“I’m here. I’m just here.”
Quietness. Gentleness.
And she clings to me and I hold onto her and midnight comes and goes and it’s tomorrow.
***
I wake up the next morning at just gone half past seven.
I can hear her in the shower. She’s still here. She hasn’t left. I put the kettle on and splash my face in the kitchen sink. For someone who just slept all night upright on the couch, I feel surprisingly refreshed. I change into some different clothes. I can shower later.
“Hi.” I turn at the sound of her voice.
“Hello. I just put the kettle on.”
“Thanks.”
It occurs to me that I’ve never seen her hair wet since it’s been this short.
“I’ve got a hairdryer, if you like.”
“Yes, please.”
I lean into the cupboard by the bed and hand her the dryer.
“I’ll go and make us a coffee whilst, you know…with your hair.”
She smiles as I leave the room.
***
“I suppose I should go. I’m meant to be attending a school function this morning.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“I know, but it’s a charity project and I should be there.”
I don’t want her to leave. I want to tell her to stay, that I’ll take her out and I’ll cook lunch and dinner for her, take care of her, look after her. I feel unreasonably protective of her this morning. And I know I have no right to, so I don’t say anything. Except:
“Do you need a lift?”
“No – I drove here last night.”
“Well, have a good day.”
Don’t leave, Susan.
“You too. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah.”
She stands in the doorway, hesitant. She doesn’t say anything so neither do I. Suddenly she takes my hand.
Quietness, gentleness.
My hand in both of hers, her eyes down, her face tired. So quiet. Whispering.
“Thank you.”
My heart. Instantly.
I lean in and I press a kiss to her forehead.
‘I’m always here’
She turns away and walks out the door.
***
One day I’ll tell him. One day I’ll tell Karl why I was there, but last night wasn’t the right time. Last night was us and our friendship. I didn’t want to make it about anyone else.
But right now I’ll pick up the broken chair, the smashed vase, the crushed flowers, and the shattered dishes on the floor by the sink. I’ll cancel the reservations for dinner for two at that Italian place in Eden Hills. I’ll put on my make up and remember all the good things about myself, remember that I am beautiful. I’ll style my hair and remember that I will get over this.
I’ll change into a jumper that doesn’t show the bruises.
And I’ll go to school this morning, head held high, remembering the man who really does love me, who’s still my best friend.
And I put on my coat and I pick up my bag and midday comes and goes.
END
AUTHOR: Mimms
RATING: PG
DISTRIBUTION: Here, or ask!
FEEDBACK: Would be greatly appreciated via PM or this thread
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine but I'm grateful for them anyway
SUMMARY: I need you, Karl
PAIRING: Karl / Susan
CHARACTERS: Susan, Karl
YEAR: 2005
SPOILERS: None
DATE: 27 April 2005
It’s been a long day. I’ve felt exhausted for the past few weeks. Work hasn’t been that busy, but emotionally the last couple of months have tired me, and I consider taking some time out from work. Maybe I could go and see Billy?
I miss him. I miss my son. Mal and I haven’t been on the best of terms since he saw the way I treated Susan last year, and although Lib called me after the heart attack, we haven’t had the relationship that we used to have for a long time now.
I miss Bill.
I miss my family.
***
I’m in shock. He’s saying something, I think, he’s apologising, but I can’t hear him, I can’t, I can’t believe that…he has to go, he needs to go, I need him to leave…
“Get out.”
He stands in front of me, repentant, but I can still see the anger. Fury. Blind, raging anger.
"Get out of my house."
He takes another step towards me and my heart leaps in fear, shame...
"Susan, I'm so sorry, it will never, ever happen again..."
“I’m asking you to leave.”
Don’t sound needy, Susan, don’t sound like it’s a problem...
He nods and turns, and walks out of my house.
Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath…and don’t cry. Susan, don’t cry. But I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure what I should do, what should I do? There’s no-one here to ask. I can’t ask anyone because there’s no-one here, and there’s no-one here because the kids left home a long time ago….deep breath, don’t cry…and Sindi is away and Karl doesn’t live here anymore…
Karl.
Karl.
***
I’m half asleep to some terrible reality show and a knock at the door provides me with the perfect excuse to mute the television. It’s gone ten o’clock, and if this is Isabelle returning to collect the rest of her things I won’t be happy. I asked her to move everything out over two months ago but I haven’t seen much of her since then. She’s avoiding me, and I’m pleased about that, and I have no intention of seeing her more than is absolutely necessary.
I open the door.
“Susan.”
“Hi, Karl…”
Her eyes. Instantly.
“Come in, come in.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No, no.”
She’s fidgety and edgy and clipping her answers. Have I done something she’s cross about?
“I was just going to get some juice – are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No.”
I nod and fill a glass from the apple juice carton in my fridge. I must remember to get some more tomorrow.
I’m not quite sure why she’s here. We’ve spoken a little since I found out about the baby, but most of the time I’d been furiously livid with Izzy, and Susan had been fiercely defensive of me. She was more devastated by the whole situation than I was. She never said it, but I knew. I just knew. The baby, Darcy, me…her life turned upside down in less than a year.
We haven’t seen each other out of that context since then, and I wonder why she’s here now. I look at her. Standing in the lounge with her back to me, eyes on the clock.
I can’t read her body language at all.
That’s unusual for me.
***
He takes my coat.
“Is this a social visit, or…”
I look up at him. How do I say what I want to say? How will he take it? Maybe I don’t even need to tell him, maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all.
What will you say, Karl? Will you be angry? Will you be ashamed? Will you start shouting and pacing and making that cross face that you do so well?
Will you love me?
So I don’t respond. I just sit down. And he doesn’t push for an answer but takes a seat on the couch beside me and we sit together, in complete silence.
Time keeps on moving.
***
Her edginess is making me nervous. I don’t know what to expect. Is she about to scream and shout at me for something I don’t know about? Is she here with bad news? Has she found out more about Darcy? Isabelle?
No. Her eyes…
Talk to me, love.
***
Suddenly.
“Did I interrupt something?” She gestures at the television.
“Oh, no – some reality programme about athletic training, or something…I’m not really sure.”
She nods.
“We can still watch it, I don’t mind.”
She’s hiding from something. Covering it with a game show, covering with things that are unimportant. I click the television off mute and the programme’s host is announcing the next track event.
“Who do you think will win, Karl?”
Covering it up.
You don’t need to hide with me, Susan.
***
Forty minutes later and I can’t believe that people watch these shows. Susan was engrossed the whole way through. Eyes intently on the television. She didn’t look at me once. Too intent, too focused. Even now the programme’s finished she won’t look at me.
“Deborah shouldn’t have won for the girls, don’t you think? And I can’t believe that other girl – what was her name, the one with the dark, straight hair – I can’t believe that she made so many mistakes on the long jump. She was doing so well.”
I don’t respond to her. She’s talking too much. Too enthusiastic.
“Clyde didn’t do too badly for the men although I’m glad I didn’t put a bet on him because I thought he’d have been better at the track events. Don’t you Karl?
‘Don’t you Karl.’ She’s not even looking at me. She’s speaking to me, asking me a question and she still can’t look at me. I’m not answering her; she doesn’t care about the programme. Instead:
“Susan, what’s wrong?”
Her eyes. Instantly.
“You can talk to me.”
Please, Susan.
She looks right at me, then. And the connection is so strong, so painful, and I immediately understand.
‘I just need a friend tonight’
She knows I know, then, because she looks away from me.
***
I’m not going to tell him, I don’t think I can.
I look away and hope he isn’t looking at me.
But of course he is, and I can’t hide away and I can’t hide from him…deep breaths… Time will go on and I will have to go with it, I can’t stop it now, I can’t stop it and disappear and wish the world away…
And instantly I feel his hand on my neck, soothing, reassuring, and I can’t help it, I can’t resist it, and I know why I came here, and I know why I needed him, and I turn into his shoulder and bury my face and hide.
I need you, Karl.
***
She looked away from me, and that’s only ever meant one thing with her.
I don’t expect her to respond. I know her body language this time. I don’t understand what’s led up to it, and I still don’t know her eyes… But I know when she’s hurt, I know when she’s trying to hide it, and I know when she’s not going to talk to me.
Shall I comfort you, Susan? Should I put my arms around you? Should I say all the right things and kiss your hair and remind you that I’m here? Should I pretend I understand?
But I don’t understand, so I put my hand on her neck and stroke it and look at her.
She turns to me, then. Her eyes down, her face tired; lonely and miserable. I can’t do anything but put my arms around her.
I know you needed me, tonight, Susan.
You know I’m here.
***
I’m so grateful that he knows me so well. I’m so grateful to him for just being here, that I didn’t have to do this alone.
His gentleness, his quietness.
He takes my hand from his chest and he just holds it.
So understated and loving.
Karl.
He keeps hold of my hand.
‘I don’t want to let go’
I squeeze his hand in return.
‘neither do I’
***
I must have drifted off because something disturbs me from sleep half an hour later. My eyes drift to the clock. Almost twelve o’clock now. Susan’s still in my arms, we’re still on the sofa, the television’s still on.
What woke me? Something…
Dampness on my neck, my arm.
She’s crying.
So quietly.
***
It startles me and the only thing I know to do is to pull her closer to me. What hurt you tonight, Susan? What happened? Has someone said something to you? Done something to you?
One hand caressing her back, the other on her neck, in her hair, pressing her to me.
Quietly. “It’s alright.”
I kiss her hair.
Whispering. “I’m here.”
She cries openly now, breaking my heart. What made you need me tonight, Susan, need my comfort? What’s made you cry like this?
“It’s alright, sweetheart.”
Her hand clutching at my jumper; me kissing her hair.
Stifling her cries; reassuring her.
Shaking; caressing.
“I’m here. I’m just here.”
Quietness. Gentleness.
And she clings to me and I hold onto her and midnight comes and goes and it’s tomorrow.
***
I wake up the next morning at just gone half past seven.
I can hear her in the shower. She’s still here. She hasn’t left. I put the kettle on and splash my face in the kitchen sink. For someone who just slept all night upright on the couch, I feel surprisingly refreshed. I change into some different clothes. I can shower later.
“Hi.” I turn at the sound of her voice.
“Hello. I just put the kettle on.”
“Thanks.”
It occurs to me that I’ve never seen her hair wet since it’s been this short.
“I’ve got a hairdryer, if you like.”
“Yes, please.”
I lean into the cupboard by the bed and hand her the dryer.
“I’ll go and make us a coffee whilst, you know…with your hair.”
She smiles as I leave the room.
***
“I suppose I should go. I’m meant to be attending a school function this morning.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“I know, but it’s a charity project and I should be there.”
I don’t want her to leave. I want to tell her to stay, that I’ll take her out and I’ll cook lunch and dinner for her, take care of her, look after her. I feel unreasonably protective of her this morning. And I know I have no right to, so I don’t say anything. Except:
“Do you need a lift?”
“No – I drove here last night.”
“Well, have a good day.”
Don’t leave, Susan.
“You too. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah.”
She stands in the doorway, hesitant. She doesn’t say anything so neither do I. Suddenly she takes my hand.
Quietness, gentleness.
My hand in both of hers, her eyes down, her face tired. So quiet. Whispering.
“Thank you.”
My heart. Instantly.
I lean in and I press a kiss to her forehead.
‘I’m always here’
She turns away and walks out the door.
***
One day I’ll tell him. One day I’ll tell Karl why I was there, but last night wasn’t the right time. Last night was us and our friendship. I didn’t want to make it about anyone else.
But right now I’ll pick up the broken chair, the smashed vase, the crushed flowers, and the shattered dishes on the floor by the sink. I’ll cancel the reservations for dinner for two at that Italian place in Eden Hills. I’ll put on my make up and remember all the good things about myself, remember that I am beautiful. I’ll style my hair and remember that I will get over this.
I’ll change into a jumper that doesn’t show the bruises.
And I’ll go to school this morning, head held high, remembering the man who really does love me, who’s still my best friend.
And I put on my coat and I pick up my bag and midday comes and goes.
END