The very last thing Becky remembers is knowing it was over.
What she remembers before that is heat and fire and screams and pain.
The part that she can't quite wrap her head around is the fact that she's remembering anything at all. Because she shouldn't. She shouldn't be doing or thinking anything at all. She should be dead.
She sits up with a jolt, and finds her hands restrained at the rail of what looks like a hospital bed. What does she look like, someone who belongs in the loony bin? What's with the lockdown? Maybe whoever was around here just knew she was a flight risk. The Rory name wasn't exactly unknown around Central City, after all.
However, with the initial shock slowing down a bit, she's really taking in her surroundings. Chrome. Lots and lots of chrome and shiny things and beeping screens with readings she doesn't really understand. Definitely feels hospital-y, except... something's weird, though she can't quite put her finger on it.
When nothing jumps out at her as overly familiar, she decides to just make a ruckus. "HEY! Somebody lemme outta here!"
"Who the fuck told you, you could call me that?" She snaps, head twisting around to the source of the voice. "And who're you talkin' about? Who's not givin' us time? Time for what? Whatis this place?!"
Oh. It was Mickey. It's okay. Everything'll be okay, as long they're together. They can stick this out somehow, as long as--
"What?" Her voice breaks. "No! No, are you crazy? Mickey, you're all I've got! Why would I do that?" She shakes her head, "I'm not. I'm not gonna do it, Mick. I'm not gonna leave you."
"I got the name changed on your chart," he whispers. But you gotta do it Becks. They're gonna put me away because of the fire. Because it was my fault." All his fault. He'd nearly killed his baby sister.
"I don't care! I'll fight for you. I'll get you out." She leans as far as she can and tries to kick him, but mostly it just ends up like a nudge with her foot against his knee because she can't reach him. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident." That is a hill she will die on. No matter how fucked up everything always was at home, no way in a million years would she believe he did it on purpose, even if Mickey believed that himself.
"They don't care." His voice is soft. Resigned. Mick will accept his fate but there's no way in hell is he going to let his little sister go down with him. "You gotta stay with the Johnsons. They like you. They'll let you stay."
"Becks you gotta do this. I can't look out for you in jail but they can."
"I do!" And doesn't that count for something? She has tears in her eyes as she stares at him, jaw stubbornly set. She doesn't want to back down from this. She can't argue that part, though. Lizzie's family would be amazing. They've been an escape for her for years and no way would Mary Johnson turn her away if she asked her to take her in, in the wake of all this. But she doesn't want to just leave her brother to the system, either.
"Will you come back?" She asks, her voice rough with tears. "If you're not stuck forever and you get out one day, will you come find me?"
"I know Becks," he promises. And that's why she has to go. She'll proclaim to everyone who would or wouldn't listen that her brother wasn't a killer. She's got to move on, to find a better life as much as it's going to kill Mick to let her go.
"Lizzie's family, they'll be good to you. Keep you safe." Away from screwups like him.
A nod because he can't talk around the lump in his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I'll come find you."
Mick has never hurt so much in his life. He can't hold her, can't give her one last hug because people will always believe he'd been at fault, that he'd caused the fire.
He leans as close as he can, resting his forehead against hers. Breathing in the smell of smoke, the scent of her shampoo underneath it, that perfume he stole for her on her birthday.
"Always Becks. Always. Ain't ever gonna be far I promise."
"Good." She bites out, but it's not nearly as sharp as she wants it to be. The reality of it all is setting in, and only all the quicker when she hears the radio talk outside. The police were coming back for him. This was it, this was the last she'd see of him for....awhile, at the very least. An officer comes into the room and tears well in her eyes. "I'm gonna get you out, Mickey...if it's the last thing I do, I'll--"
They're already dragging him to his feet and she panics, screaming now, "NO! Let me finish talking to him!" But no one's listening and she's watching her brother be dragged away in cuffs. "I'll get you outta there, I swear. Mickey, I love you!"
The way the door swings shut with a loud snap feels final, like the door to her life with her brother coming to a close.
{Will somebody help me please, call the doctor but don't call the police
Date: 2018-01-03 03:38 am (UTC)What she remembers before that is heat and fire and screams and pain.
The part that she can't quite wrap her head around is the fact that she's remembering anything at all. Because she shouldn't. She shouldn't be doing or thinking anything at all. She should be dead.
She sits up with a jolt, and finds her hands restrained at the rail of what looks like a hospital bed. What does she look like, someone who belongs in the loony bin? What's with the lockdown? Maybe whoever was around here just knew she was a flight risk. The Rory name wasn't exactly unknown around Central City, after all.
However, with the initial shock slowing down a bit, she's really taking in her surroundings. Chrome. Lots and lots of chrome and shiny things and beeping screens with readings she doesn't really understand. Definitely feels hospital-y, except... something's weird, though she can't quite put her finger on it.
When nothing jumps out at her as overly familiar, she decides to just make a ruckus. "HEY! Somebody lemme outta here!"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 04:08 am (UTC)Mick is stuck in the cuffs. They won't let him out, even if it's to talk to his baby sister. His fault. All his fault.
"They ain't gonna give us much time."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 04:15 am (UTC)The only family she's got left thanks to him.
"You're safe. But you gotta.. you gotta not tell them you're a Rory. You gotta. Stay away when they throw me in juvie. Please."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 04:29 am (UTC)"What?" Her voice breaks. "No! No, are you crazy? Mickey, you're all I've got! Why would I do that?" She shakes her head, "I'm not. I'm not gonna do it, Mick. I'm not gonna leave you."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 03:14 pm (UTC)"Becks you gotta do this. I can't look out for you in jail but they can."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 03:28 pm (UTC)"Will you come back?" She asks, her voice rough with tears. "If you're not stuck forever and you get out one day, will you come find me?"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 03:44 pm (UTC)"Lizzie's family, they'll be good to you. Keep you safe." Away from screwups like him.
A nod because he can't talk around the lump in his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I'll come find you."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-03 03:51 pm (UTC)With tears cascading over her cheeks when she blinks, she bites, "You better. I swear to god, Mickey, you better come find me."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-07 06:15 pm (UTC)He can't hold her, can't give her one last hug because people will always believe he'd been at fault, that he'd caused the fire.
He leans as close as he can, resting his forehead against hers. Breathing in the smell of smoke, the scent of her shampoo underneath it, that perfume he stole for her on her birthday.
"Always Becks. Always. Ain't ever gonna be far I promise."
no subject
Date: 2018-02-01 06:21 pm (UTC)They're already dragging him to his feet and she panics, screaming now, "NO! Let me finish talking to him!" But no one's listening and she's watching her brother be dragged away in cuffs. "I'll get you outta there, I swear. Mickey, I love you!"
The way the door swings shut with a loud snap feels final, like the door to her life with her brother coming to a close.