Family Relations (Interlude Part Four)
Thursday, April 10th, 2014 04:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
challis_2070 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mindcrackloveLink to Chapter Fourteen- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/621542.html#cutid1
Lasairfhíona yawned softly as she stared at the ceiling of the hospital room. It was an incredibly boring hospital room, she noted with some displeasure. It was all shades of off-white with grey and white floor tiles. The only thing of any interest to her was the crucifix1, but even that got very boring to look at, particularly now that they had given her the rosary2 back. What she really wanted was to be out of this place and back home with her son, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon.
They’d told her last week that she’d be moved to rehab this week, but this week they told her next week, and damn, this was frustrating.
Even still, she knew she’d be in rehab for a good while, having been in the hospital for so long, she’d need to regain the motor skills she lost while stuck in this hideous bed. It was a really ugly bed, even for hospital beds. She sometimes swore that the hospitals got their beds from the same people who supplied the hospital wings in the prisons, they were that awful.
She’d heard, via Tom that Pyro and Baj had gotten into some kind of blow up and now he was grounded, among other things. She hated getting information through the grapevine this way, it was hard to know how distorted it got, and she had gotten the feeling that everyone involved was trying to keep her from worrying, which just annoyed her farther. He was her only child; she had a right to be worried about him!
And of course, he was, in all likelihood, going to be the only child she ever had. This thought always made her sigh to herself. She’d never really intended to get pregnant, much less in the manner it occurred, but she had been okay with raising a child once it happened, she just had kind of figured that, well…she’d have more children once that happened. But no. Now, she wasn’t really trying for another child, but…still. There was that…minor suspicion…that Tom was being very careful with that…he knew her…cycle…very well, and she noted they only…lay together…at the times when she was least fertile, not that she was particularly so anyways, she’d been seen by a doctor when she was younger, and had learned she had PCOS3, and was fairly infertile. She was starting to wonder if that was interacting with the tuberculosis and pneumonia, and causing her to be stuck here longer than one normally would. Obviously not entirely infertile, given Pyro’s existence, but still. It made her sad sometimes, to think about it, so she generally avoided doing so. The thought that Tom would go out of his way to avoid…but…given how they got married in the first place, she thought then, she might know why he would do that, actually.
She sighed again, shifting around trying to get comfortable.
Thinking about that, how Pyro came to be and how she ended up married to an English army man was…strange, to say the least. She always wondered just how…dense…he was, sometimes. She knew, knew, that there was far more than enough propaganda and training for them, those military men, to stay the hell away from the locals, much less sleep with them, cause you can never tell who’s loyalist and who’s nationalist until it’s too late…and yet, there he was and there she was. Of course, she hadn’t expected to become pregnant, anyway. She’d been on birth control, for the PCOS, please, and yet…she’d gotten Pyro tested, even though Tom was the only option, and he was Tom’s. Sometimes she wished she’d slept with one of her comrades, instead…still, sacrifices for information must be made, and it resulted in her child, something she knew could happen, even with birth control…mind, she’d been just coming off antibiotics at the time, so…that very could have…best not to dwell on what could have been.
She groaned softly at the thought. Tom had confided to her once, that his colleagues often claimed that he should leave them, at once. When she asked why specifically they said that, he said that they were all of the opinion that Pyro, having been raised by her, would eventually…she loathed to think about it…but they claimed that Pyro would, by necessity of being an Irish Nationalist (and she didn’t even know if he identified that way!), that he would…eventually, sooner rather than later, kill his own father, since he was British military. She was, rather, of the opinion that this very fact, that his father was British military, would be what would keep him from taking up arms against them. She suspected that he’d rather protest and use the ballot box and signs, simply to avoid that possible problem.
She wondered how much her parents had taught Pyro, sometimes. Had they taught him to use guns, to make bombs? She didn’t think so, but still…she thought that her father might have taught him at least basic gun safety, he was quite adept with them…then again, he had pulled an AR-154 on Tom when he had found out that Tom had…impregnated…her. She’d been horrified at that, he was damn lucky that Tom was unarmed at the time, or who knows what would have happened then? And what did people say? That they had a shotgun wedding? Yes, indeed, they had, quite literally so. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn her father had taught Pyro to use guns, but she really hoped not. She wanted him to remain a child for as long as he could.
Children, children…she often thought there were no children in warzones…she wondered how her own son was getting along with Baj’s children…they’d be…normal, wouldn’t they? Oh, what was even normal, anymore? She wasn’t…normal…and Pyro she was sure, wasn’t either. Normal childhoods don’t involve your mother being interned, nor does it involve 12 year old children being held at a police station until their father is permitted to get them…that had scared her far more than being interned then, to be honest. She was so scared they were going to intern him as well at the time, barely 12, and that…that was terrifying. They’d held him at the station for a week before Tom had been contacted and permitted to come get him released…he refused to talk about what happened then, she wished they could find him a therapist, but they’d had no luck thus far. What she had found interesting was that apparently he hadn’t spoken to Tom either about what happened nor had he spoken much at all while she waited out that internment, four months, and he had barely spoken to anyone else, either. She wondered if he’d spoken to anyone at all about it, honestly…which is why she so wanted to find a therapist.
She worried about how he was doing with his cousins…did he talk to them? She knew that if you pressed for an answer, you’d get one, but then he’d just sometimes…shut down…if he found the questions painful, etc. However, if you just let him be comfortable, he’d talk more, which made her happier. The last time she had talked with him, it had been about what would happen if he had to go stay with Baj, and what do to if things went badly there, which she hoped he’d never need to use, of course.
This thought made her sigh again, upset.
She knew why Tom had been reassigned, his command didn’t really like keeping people here for so long…’the province warps people’ they said, indeed. She sometimes wondered if it was, in fact, warping him. Or was that because he was married to an Irish nationalist and had a son by her? That might warp a person just as fast as anything else, after all. She hoped they’d send him back, regardless. She understood that his command still held out hope that, if nothing else, he could ‘hold on’ to Pyro, to keep him out of…troubles...as it were. And well, he kind of needed to be back here if he was going to do that, after all.
He was stuck between them, and that…this made her feel the worst. She’d caused someone to get trapped between the sides, and that was just…even when Pyro made his choices, she wasn’t sure he’d ever be completely accepted anywhere. She wondered sometimes if that was in any part one of the reasons why Tom’s command tried so hard to keep them away from the locals…if nothing else, to keep them from being trapped and from making people who were trapped. Not a major reason, but she thought at least someone must have thought it. But really, her son was already here, he had the need to have a father, and surely they must prefer him to have an English father rather than having one of her very nationalist brothers from stepping up to be a father figure in his place…
-----
He paced the halls of the barracks where he was stationed, annoyed. He did not want to be here, at all. Canada may be nice, but it was neither his home of England, nor was it where his wife and child were in Northern Ireland, and this frustrated him greatly.
All he could do was wait and pace the halls when he had downtime, waiting to hear back from his command on their decision. His lieutenant swore he’d have his answer by Friday, but he was still anxious. And even then…if (no, say when rather!) it was yes, it’d be a month before he’d actually land back in Northern Ireland and be processed through and could get Pyro back home. And if it was no…then he was stuck here for the rest of the deployment, six months in total. He’d been re-deployed before, six months at a time, but Lasairfhíona hadn’t been ill those times, and had watched Pyro on her own.
And god, that was the thing, wasn’t it? If he could only take Pyro with him, but no, of course not. Couldn’t have him on base with him, god damn it. It would solve the problems…but he sighed. It was his own fault that Pyro couldn’t stay on base with him, after all.
He sighed as he thought back to that night. He still wasn’t entirely certain as to why he had decided to sleep with her, he hadn’t been drunk at the time, he’d only had a single drink…and hell, they’d even just had a presentation that day about what not to do when you’re on leave, but still he did. And even then, sleeping with her was one thing, but talking and the conversation…it wasn’t until he was being debriefed the next day that he had even started to realize why he shouldn’t have spoken…and by then it was far too late. Even now though, he still wasn’t certain why he’d lost almost all of his clearance, rather than be put on probation, and why, when it was learned she was pregnant with his child, why they, before the kid was even born, prohibited him from being on any bases with him. It just seemed kind of…stupid…to him, honestly. Why not have him permitted on base? Surely it would only help show Pyro that they were decent people, right?
She’d sent him a letter, two weeks after that night. On the surface, it was just that the night had been nice, and wishing him well. She’d used…lemon juice, he thought…and when you put heat to it, it returned. Said that they should talk, gave a meeting place and time, and said she’d been to a doctor. He’d been pissed, since he knew he was clean and she had claimed to be clean as well, but when he went (without telling anyone what he was doing, if they couldn’t figure out that message, then screw them) she’d been scared, but not…not like that. She was there alone, which also surprised him at the time. He had a very uneasy feeling that it wasn’t an illness, but lateness, instead, and that she was trying to be…discreet…about it, for his own sake as well as hers. She’d shown him the test, offered to do one where he could see her, he agreed to that, and…well, now they had Pyro.
Why’d they take it out on the kid, though? Did they think it was…in the blood, or something? Sure, his, ah, father-in-law had…pulled a gun on him and demanded he do the ‘proper’ thing and marry Lasairfhíona but still. It simply set up the poor kid for problems. Hn. That…there were a lot of things that happened there that just seemed like you were trying to screw with the people…argh! If his lieutenant heard him say that, he’d be accused of dissention and being ‘warped’ by the province, and they’d be sure to keep him the full six months here then, damn it. Maybe he was warped, hell. It was hard to know now, it had been so long…and he wanted what was best for his son, and for his wife, and well, what she wanted was, well…that was something considered ‘warped’, wasn’t it now? He groaned. Was this thing, this idea, was this why they were so…indoctrinated…against them, the locals? Because they might become…sympathetic to them? And if that was so…but down that path lay dissention among other…problems. There was no war there, so it couldn’t be…treason…but he suspected that it would still surely be treasonous to say such things.
He had too much time on his hands, he thought. Most of his time was spent working or with Lasairfhíona and Pyro, he had rarely been alone. Now he was, though. He was mostly left to himself while the decision was made, and all he could do was use the phone to talk to his brother and son as well as his wife. Even then, his wife couldn’t talk for long yet, and Baj…well. He thought that Baj must be still getting things evened out with Pyro, from how he sounded.
-----
Separated as they were, they both wished that this day, Wednesday could finish quickly so they could get to Friday and its answers for them faster. One wanting to be moved to rehab and one wanting the answer to being reassigned, but both simply wanting answers to their questions.
-----
Notes-
1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucifix
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosary
3 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polycystic_ovary_syndrome
4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AR-15
Link to Chapter Fifteen- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/630683.html#cutid1
Lasairfhíona yawned softly as she stared at the ceiling of the hospital room. It was an incredibly boring hospital room, she noted with some displeasure. It was all shades of off-white with grey and white floor tiles. The only thing of any interest to her was the crucifix1, but even that got very boring to look at, particularly now that they had given her the rosary2 back. What she really wanted was to be out of this place and back home with her son, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon.
They’d told her last week that she’d be moved to rehab this week, but this week they told her next week, and damn, this was frustrating.
Even still, she knew she’d be in rehab for a good while, having been in the hospital for so long, she’d need to regain the motor skills she lost while stuck in this hideous bed. It was a really ugly bed, even for hospital beds. She sometimes swore that the hospitals got their beds from the same people who supplied the hospital wings in the prisons, they were that awful.
She’d heard, via Tom that Pyro and Baj had gotten into some kind of blow up and now he was grounded, among other things. She hated getting information through the grapevine this way, it was hard to know how distorted it got, and she had gotten the feeling that everyone involved was trying to keep her from worrying, which just annoyed her farther. He was her only child; she had a right to be worried about him!
And of course, he was, in all likelihood, going to be the only child she ever had. This thought always made her sigh to herself. She’d never really intended to get pregnant, much less in the manner it occurred, but she had been okay with raising a child once it happened, she just had kind of figured that, well…she’d have more children once that happened. But no. Now, she wasn’t really trying for another child, but…still. There was that…minor suspicion…that Tom was being very careful with that…he knew her…cycle…very well, and she noted they only…lay together…at the times when she was least fertile, not that she was particularly so anyways, she’d been seen by a doctor when she was younger, and had learned she had PCOS3, and was fairly infertile. She was starting to wonder if that was interacting with the tuberculosis and pneumonia, and causing her to be stuck here longer than one normally would. Obviously not entirely infertile, given Pyro’s existence, but still. It made her sad sometimes, to think about it, so she generally avoided doing so. The thought that Tom would go out of his way to avoid…but…given how they got married in the first place, she thought then, she might know why he would do that, actually.
She sighed again, shifting around trying to get comfortable.
Thinking about that, how Pyro came to be and how she ended up married to an English army man was…strange, to say the least. She always wondered just how…dense…he was, sometimes. She knew, knew, that there was far more than enough propaganda and training for them, those military men, to stay the hell away from the locals, much less sleep with them, cause you can never tell who’s loyalist and who’s nationalist until it’s too late…and yet, there he was and there she was. Of course, she hadn’t expected to become pregnant, anyway. She’d been on birth control, for the PCOS, please, and yet…she’d gotten Pyro tested, even though Tom was the only option, and he was Tom’s. Sometimes she wished she’d slept with one of her comrades, instead…still, sacrifices for information must be made, and it resulted in her child, something she knew could happen, even with birth control…mind, she’d been just coming off antibiotics at the time, so…that very could have…best not to dwell on what could have been.
She groaned softly at the thought. Tom had confided to her once, that his colleagues often claimed that he should leave them, at once. When she asked why specifically they said that, he said that they were all of the opinion that Pyro, having been raised by her, would eventually…she loathed to think about it…but they claimed that Pyro would, by necessity of being an Irish Nationalist (and she didn’t even know if he identified that way!), that he would…eventually, sooner rather than later, kill his own father, since he was British military. She was, rather, of the opinion that this very fact, that his father was British military, would be what would keep him from taking up arms against them. She suspected that he’d rather protest and use the ballot box and signs, simply to avoid that possible problem.
She wondered how much her parents had taught Pyro, sometimes. Had they taught him to use guns, to make bombs? She didn’t think so, but still…she thought that her father might have taught him at least basic gun safety, he was quite adept with them…then again, he had pulled an AR-154 on Tom when he had found out that Tom had…impregnated…her. She’d been horrified at that, he was damn lucky that Tom was unarmed at the time, or who knows what would have happened then? And what did people say? That they had a shotgun wedding? Yes, indeed, they had, quite literally so. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn her father had taught Pyro to use guns, but she really hoped not. She wanted him to remain a child for as long as he could.
Children, children…she often thought there were no children in warzones…she wondered how her own son was getting along with Baj’s children…they’d be…normal, wouldn’t they? Oh, what was even normal, anymore? She wasn’t…normal…and Pyro she was sure, wasn’t either. Normal childhoods don’t involve your mother being interned, nor does it involve 12 year old children being held at a police station until their father is permitted to get them…that had scared her far more than being interned then, to be honest. She was so scared they were going to intern him as well at the time, barely 12, and that…that was terrifying. They’d held him at the station for a week before Tom had been contacted and permitted to come get him released…he refused to talk about what happened then, she wished they could find him a therapist, but they’d had no luck thus far. What she had found interesting was that apparently he hadn’t spoken to Tom either about what happened nor had he spoken much at all while she waited out that internment, four months, and he had barely spoken to anyone else, either. She wondered if he’d spoken to anyone at all about it, honestly…which is why she so wanted to find a therapist.
She worried about how he was doing with his cousins…did he talk to them? She knew that if you pressed for an answer, you’d get one, but then he’d just sometimes…shut down…if he found the questions painful, etc. However, if you just let him be comfortable, he’d talk more, which made her happier. The last time she had talked with him, it had been about what would happen if he had to go stay with Baj, and what do to if things went badly there, which she hoped he’d never need to use, of course.
This thought made her sigh again, upset.
She knew why Tom had been reassigned, his command didn’t really like keeping people here for so long…’the province warps people’ they said, indeed. She sometimes wondered if it was, in fact, warping him. Or was that because he was married to an Irish nationalist and had a son by her? That might warp a person just as fast as anything else, after all. She hoped they’d send him back, regardless. She understood that his command still held out hope that, if nothing else, he could ‘hold on’ to Pyro, to keep him out of…troubles...as it were. And well, he kind of needed to be back here if he was going to do that, after all.
He was stuck between them, and that…this made her feel the worst. She’d caused someone to get trapped between the sides, and that was just…even when Pyro made his choices, she wasn’t sure he’d ever be completely accepted anywhere. She wondered sometimes if that was in any part one of the reasons why Tom’s command tried so hard to keep them away from the locals…if nothing else, to keep them from being trapped and from making people who were trapped. Not a major reason, but she thought at least someone must have thought it. But really, her son was already here, he had the need to have a father, and surely they must prefer him to have an English father rather than having one of her very nationalist brothers from stepping up to be a father figure in his place…
-----
He paced the halls of the barracks where he was stationed, annoyed. He did not want to be here, at all. Canada may be nice, but it was neither his home of England, nor was it where his wife and child were in Northern Ireland, and this frustrated him greatly.
All he could do was wait and pace the halls when he had downtime, waiting to hear back from his command on their decision. His lieutenant swore he’d have his answer by Friday, but he was still anxious. And even then…if (no, say when rather!) it was yes, it’d be a month before he’d actually land back in Northern Ireland and be processed through and could get Pyro back home. And if it was no…then he was stuck here for the rest of the deployment, six months in total. He’d been re-deployed before, six months at a time, but Lasairfhíona hadn’t been ill those times, and had watched Pyro on her own.
And god, that was the thing, wasn’t it? If he could only take Pyro with him, but no, of course not. Couldn’t have him on base with him, god damn it. It would solve the problems…but he sighed. It was his own fault that Pyro couldn’t stay on base with him, after all.
He sighed as he thought back to that night. He still wasn’t entirely certain as to why he had decided to sleep with her, he hadn’t been drunk at the time, he’d only had a single drink…and hell, they’d even just had a presentation that day about what not to do when you’re on leave, but still he did. And even then, sleeping with her was one thing, but talking and the conversation…it wasn’t until he was being debriefed the next day that he had even started to realize why he shouldn’t have spoken…and by then it was far too late. Even now though, he still wasn’t certain why he’d lost almost all of his clearance, rather than be put on probation, and why, when it was learned she was pregnant with his child, why they, before the kid was even born, prohibited him from being on any bases with him. It just seemed kind of…stupid…to him, honestly. Why not have him permitted on base? Surely it would only help show Pyro that they were decent people, right?
She’d sent him a letter, two weeks after that night. On the surface, it was just that the night had been nice, and wishing him well. She’d used…lemon juice, he thought…and when you put heat to it, it returned. Said that they should talk, gave a meeting place and time, and said she’d been to a doctor. He’d been pissed, since he knew he was clean and she had claimed to be clean as well, but when he went (without telling anyone what he was doing, if they couldn’t figure out that message, then screw them) she’d been scared, but not…not like that. She was there alone, which also surprised him at the time. He had a very uneasy feeling that it wasn’t an illness, but lateness, instead, and that she was trying to be…discreet…about it, for his own sake as well as hers. She’d shown him the test, offered to do one where he could see her, he agreed to that, and…well, now they had Pyro.
Why’d they take it out on the kid, though? Did they think it was…in the blood, or something? Sure, his, ah, father-in-law had…pulled a gun on him and demanded he do the ‘proper’ thing and marry Lasairfhíona but still. It simply set up the poor kid for problems. Hn. That…there were a lot of things that happened there that just seemed like you were trying to screw with the people…argh! If his lieutenant heard him say that, he’d be accused of dissention and being ‘warped’ by the province, and they’d be sure to keep him the full six months here then, damn it. Maybe he was warped, hell. It was hard to know now, it had been so long…and he wanted what was best for his son, and for his wife, and well, what she wanted was, well…that was something considered ‘warped’, wasn’t it now? He groaned. Was this thing, this idea, was this why they were so…indoctrinated…against them, the locals? Because they might become…sympathetic to them? And if that was so…but down that path lay dissention among other…problems. There was no war there, so it couldn’t be…treason…but he suspected that it would still surely be treasonous to say such things.
He had too much time on his hands, he thought. Most of his time was spent working or with Lasairfhíona and Pyro, he had rarely been alone. Now he was, though. He was mostly left to himself while the decision was made, and all he could do was use the phone to talk to his brother and son as well as his wife. Even then, his wife couldn’t talk for long yet, and Baj…well. He thought that Baj must be still getting things evened out with Pyro, from how he sounded.
-----
Separated as they were, they both wished that this day, Wednesday could finish quickly so they could get to Friday and its answers for them faster. One wanting to be moved to rehab and one wanting the answer to being reassigned, but both simply wanting answers to their questions.
-----
Notes-
1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crucifix
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosary
3 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polycystic_ovary_syndrome
4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AR-15
Link to Chapter Fifteen- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/630683.html#cutid1
