we couldn't get enough [ruth]

[jess1z1]

The apartment looked like Middle Asia. The realization dawned upon Luke as he stepped out of his bedroom that afternoon in search for coffee. Granted, he’d never been to Asia, but if it was anything like Mozambique, he could make the comparison. What little time Luke ever spent in the one-bedroom place it was not putting it together. He’d moved in a couple of weeks ago and it still looked as if he were about leave. It was mildly furnished –two couches, a plasma TV and a coffee table- and a pile of boxes still littered one corner of the room. There was one lamp. No decorations. Nothing on the walls. He’d never gotten around to hanging anything after releasing it from its bubble wrapping. The kitchen was all set but he seldom used it, always opting for stopping by a diner or some eatery on the way to and from work. He was seeing the space properly now in broad daylight and without the need to be anywhere.

It was the first day off he’d had in a very long time that wasn’t preceded by a night of being on-call, so he was actually waking up at home having slept in really late. There was no coffee at all and Luke couldn’t remember the last time he’d used a coffee maker. Despite still being beckoned over by his bed, Luke felt the need to do something about it. Days off were rare so naturally they were meant for staying in bed and ordering take out, right? Wrong. Sadly, days off were the only opportunity to do whatever it was you’d been putting off for a lack of time such as taking the car to the mechanic, grocery shopping, fixing the sink, doing laundry and whatever else a doctor was too tired to take care of upon coming home on a regular day. And he was already up. A quick shower later, Luke slipped on a t-shit and a pair of jeans and headed out the door with a to-do list in mind.

The first stop was anywhere that sold coffee and preferably on the way to the super market. He pulled over at the first sight of a Starbucks. These were always a bit crowded but Luke really didn’t have the energy to be picky and had to resign to stand in line for an overpriced hot drink. It was not ideal as much as it was necessary, but it became annoying not so just because of the fact that he was not in the mood for crowds. Mainly because he had succeeded at pushing intrusive thoughts out of his head all morning and standing around waiting for caffeine was threatening to break his record for most hours spent without thinking about Ruth. Stupid Seattle corporations. It certainly hadn’t helped that his stomach did a back flip whenever he caught a glimpse of a long, brown mane out of the corner of his eye. And that some lady sitting a few tables away had his ex wife’s almost exact same laugh. Who was in the mood for laughing this early, anyway? Already annoyed, Luke resolved to man up and go grocery shopping sans coffee.

He got into his car, sat behind the wheel and stared as another long, brown ponytail belonging to stranger messed with his palpitations. He bit his inner cheek and started the engine. This was not good. Not good at all. He would have to go into the hospital and find someone to stitch up just to have something to do which kept him off the streets. Capeside wasn’t being as welcoming as he thought it would be upon his return. Why had he even expected it to? Why hadn’t he drove off yet and merely sat with the motor running and his hand on the wheel and why was his mind wandering off toward that address he’d been given when he first was told about Ruth’s absence at the hospital? He had only asked out of mere curiosity. She wasn’t even the reason he’d come back. It was the heat.

However, five minutes later Luke still hadn’t moved anywhere, his car remaining static pulled over close to the Starbucks; slowly, it appeared to dawning on him, despite himself, that he’d been putting this off long enough. That they would have to see each other at some point and that he really very much desired to, even if it was hard to come to terms with that fact. Because he was itching for it. Because he needed… what? Closure? He was worried about her, that was a big part of it. Their friends’ words had been full of concern for her and Luke had been left (more) uneasy after talking to them about Ruth. And he didn’t know what he was expecting. At all. But his extremities seemed to have made a choice without consulting him and the car was already moving in the direction of the clinic.

A clinic. Where it was reported his ex wife had moved on to. One of the places Luke had always deemed a vortex of dull since med school and a decision on her part he almost –almost- understood. Pulling over and parking the car on the street adjacent to the clinic, which looked from the outside a little like he’d pictured, didn’t mean he would be ready to step out of the car immediately. In fact, it took him a second or two and regret upon having passed up on coffee, as well as a quick measuring of the street he was currently in, and then he got out of the car. And walked toward the entrance of the clinic.

He was greeted by the usual white and a decently sized desk close to the door. It was empty, however. And, although he saw some movement where the beds were all lined up inside, some of them occupied, Luke had to wait for a short woman in scrubs to walk past him, look up and ask what she could do for him, already handing him some papers to fill out and reminding him with a big kind smile that he didn’t need to have insurance. He asked about Dr. Holden – the lady just raised an apologetic eyebrow and told him no such person worked there. Which really wasn’t helping Luke’s mood. A brief, somewhat vague description didn’t help much either.

“Ruth Evangeline Holden?” He asked only mildly exasperated.

“You mean Dr. Pratt?”

He stared at her for a moment.

[ruth]

A big glass of chocolate milk would have been the best thing for her right now. After getting up at five o’clock in the morning so she could accomplish some tasks at home before work, Ruth was out the door by seven at actually got to work early. Early seemed like a strange phrase when it came to a doctor, but she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she made it a point to arrive at least ten minutes early wherever she went. It was part of her nature, she supposed, and something she never really made a point to worry about. There were better qualities, perhaps, but there were also far worse ones. Despite all of that, however, Ruth still needed something relaxing, and chocolate milk would have done the trick. While most would look for a glass of something stronger, or maybe something soothing like tea, her vice had been chocolate milk since she was about… well, twelve. It was the first time she’d ever tasted it, upon her moving to the United States, and it was one of the most delicious things ever. Who cares if it’s childish to drink copious amounts of chocolate milk? At least the calcium is good for you.

But none of that changed the fact that she didn’t actually have any with her. In fact, she didn’t even have a cup of coffee left, and she refused to drink whatever it was that the clinic deemed decent enough for consumption. She was fairly certain, if tested, the coffee in the building could be labeled a health risk. It probably wasn’t the best thing to offer to staff and those waiting, but it was cheap and it was easy. That seemed to be a theme around here. It wasn’t as though she was bad at what she did; on the contrary, she was a good doctor. But people don’t generally come to free clinics to get good medical care; they come because it’s free. Not only did that downplay her role as a doctor slightly, it also left her with more patients that were less inclined to be… personable. Though, on the flip side, the fulfillment she got out of her job was immense; for those times when you actually had someone that needed the help and had nowhere else to go, it made it all worth it. Sure, she had to put up with her share of runny noses, headaches, and coughs, but every now and then there was a challenge, and that’s what kept her going.

She wasn’t looking for excitement in her life; she was looking for stability. Thankfully, it was one of the major perks of her job. Unlike when she worked as an OB/GYN, there were no random calls about deliveries. There was no flip-flopping of schedules or unpredictability. It was solid here, and that’s what she needed. Especially after the uncertainly of the last two years or so, having something consistent was a good thing.

Almost as good as chocolate milk.

Plastering a quick smile on her face as she looked over a quick form for one of the patients—a young boy—before approaching them and offering a hand to his mouth. After a few questions to the mother and some general prodding of the boy, she reassured the woman that it was likely just a pulled or sore muscle and he’d be back to tee-ball soon. As the two left and Ruth returned the clipboard to the front desk, she managed to be there in time to hear ‘You mean Dr. Pratt?’ from one of the nurses. Turning around the corner to see who it was that was being informed about her, she did her best to put on a smile for the stranger… or, who she thought to be a stranger. “Did I hear my name?” She started speaking before even looking towards the man, her gaze first going towards the nurse before sweeping in his direction. “What can I help—” The sentence didn’t even come out in its entirety before her words dissolved in her throat. Of all the people in Capeside, she didn’t expect to see him. Hell, she didn’t even think he was one of the people in Capeside. Last she heard, he had gone to Africa for some doctor work. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, once upon a time, and she’d forced herself to branch out and seek some information. Letting him go was a lot harder than she originally thought.

But, regardless, that was still her goal. As much as she loved the man that was now standing in the waiting room, she did not want him there. She didn’t want him around her. Mostly because she couldn’t even begin to understand why he would want to be around her. As a matter of reflex, her hand went to the necklace around her neck, tucking it into her shirt. She wasn’t sure if it was for her own good or his that she tried to hide the wedding ring that hung from the chain; but regardless, she could feel a bit of colour rise to her cheeks as she finally managed to get another word out. “Luke.” At least it was something, right.

Scratch the chocolate milk, tequila sounded like it was more the right vein. This was not a part of her plan—not any plan that she would admit to herself, at least. Perhaps staying in Capeside was a hint that the opposite was true. Clearing her throat a bit and taking a deep breath, she tried to regain at least some semblance of control before straightening, dropping her hands to her side and her chin rising just slightly. “Do you need something?” Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t medical care. The list of reasons in her head was getting narrowed down quickly, leaving her with very few logical choices left. Why was he here? The idea that he’d just be in to ‘chat’ and catch up was improbable… though, everything else seemed along the same lines. Checking up on her? Looking for love? Just because?

Whatever motive he had behind it all, she was not sure she was willing or able to find it out right now. Shaken didn’t even begin to describe her current state. If nothing else, she did well at hiding it behind the questioning gaze and hardened exterior.

[jess1z1]

Too many seconds went by without Luke saying anything, he knew that. In the past, whenever he would even begin to think about what he would say to Ruth if –when- they saw each other again, he had forced himself to focus on something else. And he was now facing the consequences. And it involved a lot of staring, including from the petite nurse caught in the middle of the less than warm reunion. Luke had looked up the instant he had heard Ruth’s voice, before she even stepped within sight. He had stared back at her as she cut off her innocent, unsuspecting question and fidgeted and went from something resembling surprise to… what the hell was it? And what the hell did she mean did he need something? Luke’s own facial expression might –just might- have shifted to something resembling a mixture of perplexity and vexation.

And fuck she was still breathtaking.

But that was very much irrelevant in the situation at hand. Because Luke was finally again faced with Ruth (who people still referred to as Dr. Pratt, go figure) and he still needed to figure out just exactly what he was doing there. She would be wanting to know. He was wanting to know. He was too unprepared to deal with something that occupied such a large percentage of his thoughts; of course, he rarely allowed himself to go there mentally, because then how the hell was he supposed to function? And that was a conclusion he had landed on after many, many months of indulging in memories about Michael and about Ruth. But burying those thought was in itself and often as exhausting as it was doing the opposite and just let them consume him. Something had to be done about it.

Does he need something? Seriously, did they just see each other last week or something? Or is Luke some hypochondriac old dude complaining of an imaginary rash and a sore throat? As far as he knew, all she knew is he was off in a war zone amputating legs without anesthesia. Not to mention that the last time he’d been in Capeside, Ruth had been delivering premies and handing out folic acid, or rather taking a break from it with every intention of going back to it eventually.

Or had she?

Because if you thought about it, a change didn’t sound at all crazy. Hell, Luke had decided to move a different continent, let alone a different street. A free clinic wasn’t a huge deviation either, seeing as how her whole family was an ad campaign for compulsive humanitarians. It had certainly, and on a not very subconscious level, inspired Luke’s own choice of a change of pace. They’d both ran. And Luke, despite whatever good he might have done overseas, could never get over the feeling that he ran away. He never ran away from his problems. No matter how pissed he knew his folks would get, he’d let the police take him in when he deserved it and he always accepted the punishment. Granted, losing Michael wasn’t a problem. It was just fucked up. There was no fixing it. And it drove Luke insane. It almost killed him. He had saved people from the most lethal of wounds, but Michael he couldn’t save? Still, he had ran and he regretted it. It would have been hypocritical to question Ruth’s decision to quit her job, even if she had completely alienated herself from everyone they knew or used to know. But all in all, if one of them had a reason to give up their specialty, well… A sudden batch of remorse violently tugged at his insides. But Luke blatantly ignored it and kept up that facial expression so easily generated by her completely out of left field question.

Does he need something?

“Do I-“ he began before a pause, shoot a brief glance at the nurse as if to check he’d heard right and if she, too, would find it offensive for some reason. The air must have tensed up considerably, because the short woman shrank into a corner, muttered something about going to see about something else and did her best effort to slip away unnoticed. As far as Luke is concerned, she succeeded; his whole attention was on Ruth.

“Aside from confirmation… No, I think I’m good, thanks,” he said finally, unable to keep an edge from his voice, “A clinic. Full time. At least you’re still practicing, even if just treating patients with the common cold.” Well, that had come out more condescendingly than he’d meant and, really, there was no need for that. Why was he like this? Sure, he’d been angry with her when he left for her lack of an explanation as to why she turned away, but it had been two years. He was supposed to have done some growing in such time.

((sorry my posts are all over the place today. wrote em in class ))

[ruth]

There was silence. No quick reply. No fidgeting or clearing of his throat. Simply silence. That alone was almost debilitating to Ruth. She needed something. If nothing, she wanted to know that he had just came in the wrong place, though she hardly thought that was the reason why he was standing in front of her now. His gaze didn’t do anything to help the matter. On principle, she couldn’t bring herself to shrink back away from it; she wouldn’t appear that weak. But, damn, his eyes. If he had been saying something in reply to her, she would find the situation to be bearable. She would’ve focused simply on his words, ignoring the fact that he was staring right back at her. It had always been his eyes—the one thing that she simply couldn’t ignore that was so strikingly similar to Michael. And here she was, face-to-face with it once again and she had nowhere to run. Dammit, why wouldn’t he just get on with it? Why couldn’t he blurt out what he wanted and get it over with? Why did he seem to be so perfectly fine standing there, torturing her silently without even realizing it… or, maybe he did realize it. Maybe this was his way of getting back at her for leaving him. Fuck her—I’ll just go make her life hell now because she was the one that sent the papers.

It wasn’t really like she explained herself, though… how could she? How was she supposed to look into those eyes and tell her husband that it was all her fault? If she had, it likely would’ve just ended with him sending them instead. She was doing them both a favor; one that, perhaps, they didn’t want but they needed. She played the bad guy though, in all honesty, she felt that was true. Guilt was a powerful thing. It was what motivated her—what had been motivating her the last two years. The guilt that caused her to move away from her husband; that caused the divorce; that forced her to change jobs. It all stemmed from the same thing, and she wasn’t willing to admit that to anyone.

When Luke finally replied, Ruth almost wished the silence would’ve stayed. She didn’t expect such a sharp reply. Though, at the same time, could she blame him? She’d practically ruined his life, after all. Destroyed their marriage after not being able to stop the death of his son—of her son; she deserved whatever it was that he was likely dying to say. Or, maybe, scream. But, damn if her emotions weren’t getting in the way. Clenching her jaw quickly, she did her best to keep any tells off her face. The one bad part about being face to face with Luke again was that they knew each other. Just pretending like nothing was wrong really wasn’t an option, and she knew that. No doubt he would be able to see through any defense she tried to put up. Her only hope was that, in the time they were separated, he’d either forgotten or ignored any of those small details that he used to notice about her. She assumed he had noticed before, at least. It wasn’t as if they had a bad marriage, after all.

But she didn’t want to think about that. It was the last thing she wanted to think about. She’d spent enough time agonizing over the fact that she had ruined whatever good was left between them. Right now was not the time to revisit the subject. Right now was when she had to deal with the issue at hand; Luke. It wasn’t until a moment or two after he’d fallen silent again that she realized how stiff and unpleasant the tension between them was becoming. It was stifling.

Speak, dammit.

What was she supposed to say? Yes, a clinic. Yes, full time. And yes, the common cold. Somehow, remaining silent seemed so much easier to her. Just taking whatever criticism he wanted to dish out until he got to the actual point of his visit, then she could quietly go back to whatever was left of her sanity and try to pick up the pieces. But, at the same time, not offering a reply didn’t seem like an option. While she understood that he was likely very angry with her—and with good reason—she couldn’t just fidget awkwardly in front of him. If nothing else, she could act as if she was still breathing in there; not just mindless person standing there.

“It keeps me busy.”

At least now she couldn’t say that she hadn’t spoken. Clearing her throat lightly, her gaze unintentionally dropped towards the floor, simply in an attempt to escape his eyes. Despite herself, she could tell her resolve was failing, and although she managed to keep her chin raised and expression nearly blank, she could tell it wouldn’t take too much to break her. The best solution simply seemed to remove herself as quickly as possible. Besides, he still hadn’t said what he wanted, so maybe, if she was lucky, he really didn’t need anything at all. “I have some… charts to file… before I go home. So if you don’t… need anything,” As she spoke, she managed to lift her gaze once more to his face and set her jaw. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could avoid any tears. Lord knows the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him, of all people.

( It was just fine. <3 I hope mine was okay, too... SO LITTLE DIALOGUE. I'm really dislike dialogue... xD)

[jess1z1]

“It keeps me busy.”

“Of course.” Luke nodded slowly. It was a sort of apology for the way he’d come off before; there was really nothing wrong with it, even if her talents were a little wasted in a place like this; he had just been taken aback by her reaction.

There was way too much to say and nothing seemed to be able to come out. Where to start anyway? Not like this was the time or the place. But, damn it, it had taken Luke a lot off effort to come see her and now he refused to attempt to ignore her existence anymore. Already he was a little relieved he had done it, even if it wasn’t going exactly smoothly. But no one said it was going to be easy and he wasn’t stupid enough to ever think it would be. He knew they weren’t going to sit down and talk about Michael, even though that was something Luke had wanted to do since, well, since they’d left the hospital without him that day. He had so far refused to talk to anyone about him, barely ever said his name out loud with anybody, but for some reason, he itched to talk about him with Ruth. For hours. For eternity. To say everything that was on his mind and that he’d kept in for over two years. It wasn’t likely to happen, though. She had retreated two years ago. Why would it be any different now? Besides, a lot of resentment and a lot of fear were harbored among the things he wanted to say and if he began talking, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep them out of the conversation. Right now he had to make an effort to remain civilized. It was the first time they’d seen each other in several months and it was hard figuring out how to proceed. But he wasn’t going to turn around and abort the mission now. They had to talk. For both their sakes. Luke for one couldn’t put it off any longer.

He couldn’t shake the concern for Ruth’s wellbeing either. He knew her well and he knew she hated it when things were beyond her control. He had tried to help her deal with this before, but she had pushed him away and he had given up. And though he had tried to pretend that it was none of his business since signing the divorce papers, not caring was proving a lot harder than it was supposed to.

And there it was again. Avoidance. Just reminding him that she hadn’t wanted him around back then and she still didn’t want him around now. Why had he bothered again? Right. Closure, answers. A search as pointless as the one for mass destruction weapons in the Middle East it seemed. It was so typical of her. She had almost looked surprised for a second, but now she was acting as though he was some debt collector. A normal person would have at least acknowledged the fact that they were surprised. Not Ruth. For a second, Luke had thought she cared about the fact that he was back in town, but perhaps that would have entailed she actually pose some questions you would ask your ex husband and father of your child who you have not seen in ages and not a street vendor you’ve never met in your life.

“I don’t need anything,” began Luke a little brusquely again, “I didn’t realize I needed an excuse to come see you after two years just to… You know what?” He smiled mirthlessly. It doesn’t matter. I was actually pretty stupid. I don’t know what I was—Never mind, Ruth, I just thought I’d come stand on this spot for forty five seconds. Please, don’t let me keep you from organizing your charts. I know how that freaks you out.”

Luke began to leave. And for fuck’s sake, it was so hard. He turned around immediately and addressed Ruth again.

“Seriously… though? That’s all you have to say? You don’t want to at least properly ask me to get the fuck out? I think it’d be good for you.”

((kids are speechless, give em a break, lol ……………….. also, I’m drunk, so ill probably read this in the morning and glare at it))

[ruth]

It hurt. Ruth couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t deny that standing in front of her ex-husband, hearing his voice again and seeing his face… she couldn’t deny that it hurt. Not only that, but she found that her feelings were entirely confusing. At first, it was his sharp tone that she found discomforting and jarring, but now she found, as he nodded a bit and simply replied with ‘Of course’, that his somewhat softer tone was harder to take. If he’d added another jab at her job; at the lower income or how she wasn’t achieving her full potential… wasting it in a place like this—she would’ve found it easier to deal with. It was easier to accept the criticism and the sharp words and move on, understanding that he no longer liked her and that was the end of it. But to go from something so rough to… well, whatever the hell the two words meant, was confusing. Ruth needed to know that he didn’t like it; that he wasn’t a fan or that it made him mad… something! Resigning herself to his hate was easy, but thinking about how he may not actually dislike her was what would tear her apart.

That’s what she had believed over the last two years, wasn’t it? That he didn’t want to see her, talk to her, or even be around her. It was why she pulled away in the first place. He was just going through the motions of comfort as a matter of pity… as a matter of obligation. She wasn’t going to force him to do that anymore, so she freed him from that burden. He could openly shun her if he wanted; hell, he could even bad mouth or yell at her… as long as he wasn’t still trying to do the comforting thing. It let too many thoughts into her head that she simply wasn’t ready to deal with. It made her think that, maybe, she shouldn’t blame herself. Or that, perhaps, he was still doing it out of pity. They had been together long enough that it wasn’t out of the question, but Ruth didn’t want that. She wanted him to acknowledge it—to blame her or yell at her for letting it happen. To reassure her that she wasn’t crazy in her guilt. How was she supposed to handle it if he didn’t blame her? If he didn’t hate her? What did that mean… for her? For them?

But that didn’t seem to be a problem at the moment. Despite the doubts running through her head, despite the desire for him to respond rudely or roughly, Ruth couldn’t help but take the slightest step back as he started talking again. Her emotions and her body betrayed her, causing her to quickly bite at her bottom lip for fear it would start to tremble… or, perhaps, to keep her from talking right away. Either one would likely result in tears, and she’d already refused to let that happen. Had she not just wished he would respond like that? She wanted to hear anger, and whether or not he intended it, that’s how she took it. So why was she so hurt by it…? And, hell, he know how to make it hurt. It wasn’t even Michael’s death that made her a control freak. It hadn’t been losing her son that made her struggle with her mild OCD… it had just always been there. It was something she hated and appreciated, all at the same time. But she certainly didn’t like the vulnerability that came along with it. Taking a deep breath, she quickly folded her arms across her chest to give her hands something to do, rather than hang awkwardly at her sides.

She was tempted to let him leave. Just watch him walk away and ignore it all… think about it later, when she was alone and able to deal with it. Right, like she was actually able to deal with it. Diverting her gaze towards the empty receptionist desk beside them, she blinked back a few tears and willed herself not to let anymore come. Her nails were digging lightly into her arms now, but she hardly noticed… she was hardly given the chance. Luke hadn’t gone more than a foot or two before turning around and speaking again, this time asking something that demanded an answer, rather than just talking at her.

So much for composure. Ruth let the silence hang between them for a moment before she turned back to him, feeling as though she might actually be able to speak again. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could even do it without her voice breaking. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” Did he want her to tell him to leave? She couldn’t begin to imagine what else he might need… an apology? It seemed the most likely thing, considering everything she put him through. “I’m sorry. Is that what you want…? Do you want me to say get out? Fine… get out.” Her voice got quieter as she spoke, softening as she cleared her throat to hold back tears. By the end, she doubted he could still hear her even by how quiet she had gotten. It was useless, anyway. Blinking back the moisture wasn’t going to help for that much longer, and she was sure that she wasn’t going to be hiding that anymore. It would just give him one more thing to be annoyed or irritated by. She paused, quickly glancing towards where a few of the patients were, mostly to keep her gaze from him. Most of them were fine without her help—the nurses had it under control, but she still felt uncomfortable standing here having this conversation with him in the open.

[jess1z1]

How was Luke supposed to make sure she was alright and try to have a serious conversation when they couldn’t be in the same room together without losing it? For a first meeting, it was probably in order for him to be a jerk (he was a natural, after all) and for her to be left in a vulnerable position. But for a moment, Luke really thought he wouldn’t be able to do it. He felt an urge to head straight on home, pack a bag and get on the first plane to anywhere that wasn’t Capeside. And the further from it, the better. No, this was not how things were supposed to have gone. But at least now he knew where they stood. He didn’t like it. But at least he wouldn’t still be wondering until five in the morning. And right now he knew he had to back off. He wanted to leave. Seeing her like this was always difficult to handle, but to know that it was him causing this reaction was even worse. So, Luke calmed down again. He wasn’t used to his emotions fluctuation at such speed, like a woman going through menopause. It never ceased to amaze Luke just what Ruth was capable of doing to him and that’s without even trying.

But Luke knew he wasn’t going anywhere this time. He wouldn’t be able to no matter how much he wanted to go find his passport at the moment. First of all, the time to evade was over for him. And it was important to him that if he was going to decide to move back and stay, to know that he could be at ease, which, for better or worse, had everything to do with Ruth’s existence. And he had to find a way to achieve this without causing her any more grief.

He looked at her. For a moment he had been briefly distracted by the movement in the back, suddenly aware that he’d raised his voice and that they weren’t alone. Thankfully, he hadn’t attracted too much attention. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t be appreciative of the questions he could provoke. And he wouldn’t be appreciative is somebody decided to call security. No longer altered, he gazed at Ruth as evenly and unfazed as he could manage. It wasn’t easy blocking sharp pangs caused by the wave of realizations and new questions: how she had been so eager to grieve by herself, but how much Luke had needed her; how it seemed as though he was still stuck on the same feelings he’d developed years ago; how did he muster the strength to spend the last two years without her? How was he able to still walk, talk and breathe after losing Michael if she hadn’t been around to keep him adrift? Although she had been, in a way; he knew now that he’d been planning his return ever since getting on that plane to Africa two years ago. Maybe all he wanted was an explanation or maybe it was something, but as of right that moment, he didn’t know. It was best to leave things be.

Putting his hands in his pockets, Luke shot Ruth one last look, one that wasn’t loaded with every negative feeling involved.

“You needed to yell that and insert the word fuck in there somewhere for a full cathartic effect, but… it’ll do,” he said without a hint of amusement and thus failing at making it sound lighthearted. Really, heaviness was all he felt. “I’ll see you around. The girls say please pick up the phone,” he added, referring to Ruth’s old friends at the hospital. “Good luck.” He walked out.

[ruth]

She wanted so badly to be held by him. To be held, and loved, and told that everything was okay. It was her own damn fault that she wasn’t, and that was something she had to deal with now. But it was so much harder as she stood in front of him, to acknowledge that he was no longer something she deserved, than it had been when she wasn’t around. Ruth had convinced herself that Luke not only hated her, but didn’t even want to be around her. Now she had to reconcile this idea—he was the one that had come to her, after all. Though, at the moment, she still wasn’t sure why he’d come. He hadn’t completely yelled at her yet, but he certainly wasn’t doing the opposite, either. The whole thing was just making her more confused. Why did he have to come back? Ignoring a problem was easy when it was halfway across the world—but, no, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t the problem, was he? She was; it just took his presence to highlight that. She believed that, had he walked through that door a few minutes ago and just started going off on her, she would’ve felt better now. But this… it was like he was taunting her and she was left defenseless when it came to responding.

What was worse, was that they were in public. He hadn’t even sought her out at home or something. He decided to come to her work—the one good thing she actually thought she still had in life. One thing she was hoping wouldn’t happen was for all the nurses to start asking questions. While it wasn’t strictly because of the people that she left her last job, they certainly played into it. Even though Luke hadn’t spent a majority of time in the maternity wing, it wasn’t a stretch to say that they both had the same friends in the hospital. There were doctors that they simply met with on a regular basis, either at work or out of it. After Michael’s death and Luke left, people were curious. And, while some were more tactful than others, it was the constant questions or comments that Ruth no longer wanted to hear. That, and the fact that she couldn’t handle constantly being around the mother’s and their children… she couldn’t handle telling a mother that her baby had been still born or had been born with a defect that was likely terminal.

It was a constant reminder, not only of her loss but of what she wouldn’t have with Michael. For all the mother’s that had healthy babies… she couldn’t help but resent them. She had to walk away. And this clinic was waiting there for her. It’d been a lifesaver, in a sense. It offered her something to focus on. A distraction from all of the other stressors in her life. Clinics weren’t the most challenging, but that was what she needed. Something simple and consistent.

She wanted Luke to be that consistency, but she couldn’t let him. She wanted him to be the one keeping her sane, but that was too much to ask considering all of the blame she placed on herself. He seemed to make it easy, though. He put in his last comment, told her he’d see her around and reminded her that there were still people she knew from before. Then he started to walk away. His name was on the tip of her tongue, ready to fall out if she opened it the slightest bit. Ready to call him back and plead for him to stay, even if she hated her. To beg him for just a few more minutes, even if they were just as tense and painful as the last few, because what she needed right now was him. More than anything. Even if it meant it had to be like this—at least it was with him. He could walk away after that; after she found the strength to keep going. He could go on hating her, but at least he would’ve helped her to stay out of his way.

“I don’t want to yell at you…” He had already started to walk and her voice was barely above a whisper. Dammit, for all of the toughness she tried so hard to display on a daily basis, it was really all just a façade. For all of her intentions to remain strong and unwavering in front of him, she couldn’t hold back tears from sliding silently down her face. She couldn’t stop her chin from quivering and her voice from breaking. He didn’t even have to be looking at her for his presence to make her crumble. Why did he have to be so damn good at playing with her emotions? Now, since being physically comforted was no longer an option, she desperately needed an escape. Unfortunately, the clinic didn’t offer much privacy.

The rest of her work would likely be left for tomorrow so she could flee to the silence and safety of her car… but, at the moment, she found moving to be difficult. Instead, she was simply frozen in the same spot, her hands gripping tightly to her arms and tears staining her cheeks.