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musesandlyrics | 3.1. Jennifer Anniston quote
Nov. 2nd, 2009 06:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
comeswithcuffs3.1. "The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain."
Jennifer Aniston
[Companion piece to THIS, THIS and THIS]
Taylor rubbed her fingers across her forehead in an attempt to try and push away the headache building there. She closed another case file and hit save and then print on the case file note she had just typed up. Her black rookie uniform felt stifling today. In fact, the whole precinct felt stifling. She had been stuck in a desk job since she got back, and at first she had been grateful of the slower pace. Now she was just restless, more mornings than not wondering why the hell she was even bothering to get out of bed. People had finally stopped asking her on a daily basis if she was okay, though. That was a relief. The monotonous 'Fine, thank you' answers were getting harder to lie her way through. Everyone in her department knew she had been in a car accident back home in Texas while she had been on injury leave after being stabbed on the job back at the beginning of the year. They didn't know the enormity of it all, though. She hadn't been forthcoming with details. Just that she had hurt her back and fractured her rib, which is why she needed a few more months off the beat. She didn't mention the pregnancy.
Didn't mention Jason.
She closed her eyes as the tension headache suddenly felt like it was blinding her and she pushed her chair back, standing up. "I'm going to take an early lunch," she told her partner, grabbing her handbag from her draw and shoving a few items from her desk into it. She didn't wait for his okay. She would make it up to him later. He had been really understanding of what she went through once she came back. He was the only one she had indicated something a lot more serious had gone down then she was letting on, but he never once pumped her for details. Maybe one day she would be able to talk about it without wanting to vomit from the guilt that crawled back often and twisted in her gut.
When she got outside into the cold, dreary New York day, she was almost gasping for a breath, trying to draw in some air that wasn't exactly fresh, but was better than what was on offer inside the precinct. She fished a packet of cigarettes out of her bag and quickly lit one up with shaky hands. She had quit about a year ago, but with everything that happened after the accident, it wasn't hard for her to fall back into her nicotine addiction. She hated herself for it, but it wasn't like she was pregnant, was it? She ducked into the side alley parallel to the station and put her free hand over her eyes, blowing out a stream of smoke. She had to get her shit together or she really was going to end up giving into her urges to quit the force. All that hard work, and she was contemplating throwing it in. Her job hadn't given her the escape she had hoped it would. Returning to New York had helped a little, but she knew deep down she wasn't healed. It was a band-aid fix and nothing more.
Her hand disappeared into her bag again and she pulled out her cell phone, staring at the screen. Flicking through the numbers, she brought up Jason's cell, staring at his picture on the screen smiling back at her. She welled up again, holding the phone to her face as she struggled not to start sobbing. She missed him so much it was almost like a physical ache was constantly in her bones... in her chest... her heart. When the doctors told her in the hospital that the baby had died in the car crash, she wasn't sure she could go on. All Jason wanted was to be happy and be a father when he had thought for so long he couldn't be. After the last chick screwed him over, lying to him that the kid was his, Taylor had promised when she discovered she was pregnant that she would give him everything he wanted. Promised. She couldn't even give him that. She had killed their baby and when she realised what had happened, she couldn't even face him without the guilt and shame burning through her. She couldn't see that look in his face when he realised his child had died.
It devastated her when she told her Mom that she had to break up with him. Her parents didn't understand, but they tried. Taylor couldn't explain it to them, but when they saw how distraught she became every time she tried to talk about Jason and their baby, they just went along with her requests. She wasn't proud of what she did, but it was all she had the capacity to process at the time. She couldn't believe anything would ever be the same between them again after she broke her promise to him. She couldn't deal with the fact she had ruined his life all over again when all she had been trying to do was be happy with him. She had feelings for him for so long that it was better than winning the lottery when he finally started to reciprocate them. They connected so easily and laughed. They laughed so much. After the accident, all Taylor could process was that it had to have been too good to be true. She didn't deserve him. She didn't to laugh anymore.
Now, she knew she had run away like a coward. It had been easier to escape than to face the pain of seeing Jason's life devastated again. But it was too late. She hadn't spoken to him since and never returned any of his calls, messages, emails. She wanted him to forget about her, but there wasn't a day that had passed since that she hadn't thought about him. At night, when she was lying in her bed alone - very alone - she missed having his warm body pressed against hers, and missed the way he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her face as they lay there together in the dark readying for sleep. She hadn't even given him a choice, or rather, hadn't had the capacity to give him a choice. She had just taken it all away, and now he probably hated her. She had been a coward then, and she was still a coward then. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to face him again. Even when she spoke on the phone to Sam, she could never bring herself to ask about Jason, and Sam seemed to know enough not to mention him. She didn't mention Tim, either. Chats were isolated to gossip in Dillon, their health after the accident, their work, their families. Taylor missed Sam desperately, but if she had to run away from Jason, she had to run away from everyone in Dillon because he was in a piece of everything there, and always would be.
Her finger hovered over the call button on the cell phone as she once again, for about the millionth time since coming back to New York, was overcome with an aching urge to call him, just to hear his voice. But she hit the red button instead and pushed the phone back down into a dark space in her bag, lowering her head in shame. She extinguished the cigarette on the brick wall and dropped the butt onto the grimy alley floor.
Jason would hate her smoking, anyway.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
itwontstopme, supermarketsam and texas33forever referenced with permission. Scarily, supermarketsam's mun and myself never read each other prompts before writing but we've managed some interesting links between the girls! Meeting minds FTW! ;)
Word Count | 1,268
Jennifer Aniston
[Companion piece to THIS, THIS and THIS]
Taylor rubbed her fingers across her forehead in an attempt to try and push away the headache building there. She closed another case file and hit save and then print on the case file note she had just typed up. Her black rookie uniform felt stifling today. In fact, the whole precinct felt stifling. She had been stuck in a desk job since she got back, and at first she had been grateful of the slower pace. Now she was just restless, more mornings than not wondering why the hell she was even bothering to get out of bed. People had finally stopped asking her on a daily basis if she was okay, though. That was a relief. The monotonous 'Fine, thank you' answers were getting harder to lie her way through. Everyone in her department knew she had been in a car accident back home in Texas while she had been on injury leave after being stabbed on the job back at the beginning of the year. They didn't know the enormity of it all, though. She hadn't been forthcoming with details. Just that she had hurt her back and fractured her rib, which is why she needed a few more months off the beat. She didn't mention the pregnancy.
Didn't mention Jason.
She closed her eyes as the tension headache suddenly felt like it was blinding her and she pushed her chair back, standing up. "I'm going to take an early lunch," she told her partner, grabbing her handbag from her draw and shoving a few items from her desk into it. She didn't wait for his okay. She would make it up to him later. He had been really understanding of what she went through once she came back. He was the only one she had indicated something a lot more serious had gone down then she was letting on, but he never once pumped her for details. Maybe one day she would be able to talk about it without wanting to vomit from the guilt that crawled back often and twisted in her gut.
When she got outside into the cold, dreary New York day, she was almost gasping for a breath, trying to draw in some air that wasn't exactly fresh, but was better than what was on offer inside the precinct. She fished a packet of cigarettes out of her bag and quickly lit one up with shaky hands. She had quit about a year ago, but with everything that happened after the accident, it wasn't hard for her to fall back into her nicotine addiction. She hated herself for it, but it wasn't like she was pregnant, was it? She ducked into the side alley parallel to the station and put her free hand over her eyes, blowing out a stream of smoke. She had to get her shit together or she really was going to end up giving into her urges to quit the force. All that hard work, and she was contemplating throwing it in. Her job hadn't given her the escape she had hoped it would. Returning to New York had helped a little, but she knew deep down she wasn't healed. It was a band-aid fix and nothing more.
Her hand disappeared into her bag again and she pulled out her cell phone, staring at the screen. Flicking through the numbers, she brought up Jason's cell, staring at his picture on the screen smiling back at her. She welled up again, holding the phone to her face as she struggled not to start sobbing. She missed him so much it was almost like a physical ache was constantly in her bones... in her chest... her heart. When the doctors told her in the hospital that the baby had died in the car crash, she wasn't sure she could go on. All Jason wanted was to be happy and be a father when he had thought for so long he couldn't be. After the last chick screwed him over, lying to him that the kid was his, Taylor had promised when she discovered she was pregnant that she would give him everything he wanted. Promised. She couldn't even give him that. She had killed their baby and when she realised what had happened, she couldn't even face him without the guilt and shame burning through her. She couldn't see that look in his face when he realised his child had died.
It devastated her when she told her Mom that she had to break up with him. Her parents didn't understand, but they tried. Taylor couldn't explain it to them, but when they saw how distraught she became every time she tried to talk about Jason and their baby, they just went along with her requests. She wasn't proud of what she did, but it was all she had the capacity to process at the time. She couldn't believe anything would ever be the same between them again after she broke her promise to him. She couldn't deal with the fact she had ruined his life all over again when all she had been trying to do was be happy with him. She had feelings for him for so long that it was better than winning the lottery when he finally started to reciprocate them. They connected so easily and laughed. They laughed so much. After the accident, all Taylor could process was that it had to have been too good to be true. She didn't deserve him. She didn't to laugh anymore.
Now, she knew she had run away like a coward. It had been easier to escape than to face the pain of seeing Jason's life devastated again. But it was too late. She hadn't spoken to him since and never returned any of his calls, messages, emails. She wanted him to forget about her, but there wasn't a day that had passed since that she hadn't thought about him. At night, when she was lying in her bed alone - very alone - she missed having his warm body pressed against hers, and missed the way he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her face as they lay there together in the dark readying for sleep. She hadn't even given him a choice, or rather, hadn't had the capacity to give him a choice. She had just taken it all away, and now he probably hated her. She had been a coward then, and she was still a coward then. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to face him again. Even when she spoke on the phone to Sam, she could never bring herself to ask about Jason, and Sam seemed to know enough not to mention him. She didn't mention Tim, either. Chats were isolated to gossip in Dillon, their health after the accident, their work, their families. Taylor missed Sam desperately, but if she had to run away from Jason, she had to run away from everyone in Dillon because he was in a piece of everything there, and always would be.
Her finger hovered over the call button on the cell phone as she once again, for about the millionth time since coming back to New York, was overcome with an aching urge to call him, just to hear his voice. But she hit the red button instead and pushed the phone back down into a dark space in her bag, lowering her head in shame. She extinguished the cigarette on the brick wall and dropped the butt onto the grimy alley floor.
Jason would hate her smoking, anyway.
itwontstopme, supermarketsam and texas33forever referenced with permission. Scarily, supermarketsam's mun and myself never read each other prompts before writing but we've managed some interesting links between the girls! Meeting minds FTW! ;)Word Count | 1,268
