Y/N is Falling, but will anyone catch her?
Recovering from an abusive marriage and trying to find herself and her place in the world again when an accident leaves the Holland family becoming a central part of her life, including Tom. But they're...
It had been 3 weeks, 2 out patients appointments, multiple anti-anxiety meds, 42 antibiotics and painkillers and 4 panic attacks since the accident had taken place. Bonfire night had been and gone, which I'd spent sitting on the kitchen counter, cradling a cup of tea in the dark watching the displays of light and colour of out of my window and now we were at the end of November, winter upon us and Jack Frost spreading his frosty magic every night across every surface.
I was just leaving my last OT appointment and heading home, feeling relieved to finally have the plastic cast removed. I'd regained a lot of movement in my little finger but the biggest problem for me right now was the constant burning itch of the nerves regrowing themselves, the prickling pain which never seemed to stop, and the occasional cramp and twitching muscles as they tried to reknit themselves. I pulled my rucksack off and opened the front pocket to put away my appointment card when I noticed a white card in there and pulled it out, praying it wasn't another appointment that I had missed or had yet to drag myself to. Dom Holland, it said in bold letters across the middle before a series of phone numbers and email. Right, of course it was his dog I'd rescued and been promised a meal as thanks.
I began walking to the bus stop thinking about that day and the gratitude he'd shown. Should I call him, I mean, it might have only been a courtesy offer and they probably forgot about it as soon as they'd left the hospital, after all it was just their dog and no big thing, and it wasn't as if they owed me or anything. Then Paddy came to mind and his earnest eyes looking at me from his dads side and the plea to join them. I weighed it all up as I boarded the bus, pressing my battered travelcard against the tap in point and wearily collapsing into a seat at the back, observing the cold world outside through the scratched glass, thinking about what it must be like to have a family, to be part of one and have others to rely upon.
Back in my flat, doors locked, heating cranked up and cup of green tea to hand, I held my mobile in one hand, Dom's card on the armrest thinking before impulsively opening up messages and typing:
Hey Dom, don't know if you remember me, but its Y/N, I rescued Tessa from the bush in Richmond Park and I was just wondering how she was doing?
There, non committal, nothing too heavy, just a query about the dog - a perfectly normal conversation *ping*
I almost dropped the phone in shock as a message announced itself. Taking a deep breath to slow my pounding heart I glanced at it.
Hi Y/N its wonderful to hear from you - Tessa's doing great (Photo attached)
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How are you - how's the arm doing?
Aw, so cute, what a lovely dog I breathed out. Taking a fortifying sip of tea I responded
Aw she's adorable. I'm doing good thanks, a little sore but I got all the stitches out finally :-)
Wait, noo; too late sent. I groaned quietly to myself, Why would you say that, they don't care about your stitches why would they, way to guilt trip them. I began to spiral out *ping*
