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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 17, 2013 21:51:04 GMT -5
Dylan had been nervous before when it came to his job, but this time it was different. This time it actually felt personal, and he told himself that it was silly to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. There had been patients and cases before they had come close to this, but it seemed uncanny to the young neurologist and he felt like this patient, this kid, was the reason he had chosen this path. He had known for some time that he would be performing the surgery on the Monday morning, but Dylan still wasn’t used to the idea. He gave every patient his full attention and did as much as he could when they were in that operating theatre, but this time he wanted to do better than that. There was no one putting this stress on him; it was all the doing of Dylan himself. He had brought his plaguing nightmares back and since then had spent far too much time inside the hospital that was starting to become a second home to the Irishman. Everything else had slipped from his mind and if he needed sleep then he took a bed in the on call room.
There had never been a case that bit at him like this one, but then there had never been one that had been like looking into a mirror before. The young neurosurgeon wasn’t needed in the hospital today. He had no surgeries booked and no patients were expecting to see his face around the curtain or the door to their room. Still, he was in his small office, sitting at his desk and staring up at the image on the light-board. Dylan had been in Belfast when he had seen the old image last, but that didn’t make a blind bit of difference. All it did was remind him of the chance he had been given by a doctor who had long since retired to a warmer climate. Dylan wanted to give this kid that same chance, but for some reason was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to do it. This was the very reason why he had become a neurosurgeon, why he had slaved away for all those years at university and pulled those all-nighters to cram for finals. All the work, all the effort had all been for this. Sure, the procedure he had done before, but it had been on a thirty year old chain smoker who lived his life as though he was still eighteen. The man had recovered, gone into remission and at his last check-up was still living the same life with reckless abandonment. Dylan knew it was different with this little boy and his first kiss would be a hell of a lot more important than most kid’s. He remembered vividly how his own life had changed and all of those joys and chances were what he wanted to pass on now, like the ceremonial baton.
The time was ticking by, but Dylan’s blue eyes were still fixed on the old image on the light-board and he could feel his heart pounding beneath his chest. He knew he ought to go home and spend the weekend resting but he was too on edge, too nervous about Monday morning. It was a long procedure, a risky one and yet when he had been on the table and not standing over it things had seemed so very simple. He might have only been twelve at the time, but that wasn’t the point. This kid was the same age, had the same Medulloblastoma and would eventually have the same scar that the neurologist had hidden under his thick crop of wavy chestnut hair. Dylan shook his head, wondering how the family would feel if they knew the man who had the life of their son in his hands had personally been in the same position as their son, brother, nephew and grandson. Somehow he didn’t think it would make anyone feel better. Glancing across at his desk, his discoloured file sat in the centre and he sighed. It felt weird looking down at his own chart from professional eyes when a little voice kept reminding him that he didn’t need to re-read the very thing that still haunted him to this day. It was his own personal horror story, complete with the ghosts that kept him from sleep and the fear that those ghosts might one day be a part of his life again.
Dylan sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes for just a moment. A moment turned into several and the twenty-seven year old had managed to drift off in the comfortable and reclining office chair. He was on the brink of a deep sleep when his nightmare struck. This time it was centred around his dad, the accident and the ridiculous idea that it was the price to pay for surviving his own death sentence. In reality he knew they were all nonsensical, but when he was asleep he’d rather face Freddy Krueger than the dark creativity of his own mind. He was deep into the nightmare when he finally jolted awake, yelling and gasping as a cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. It took him another second to realise that he wasn’t alone in the office and it was with a slow drag of his eyes that he finally noticed Bridget standing in the doorway. “Hey, you. What do you need?”
[/color] He asked, trying to act like everything was fine, even though his heart was racing and his breathing still slightly ragged. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 935! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 18, 2013 15:15:17 GMT -5
Bridget had been planning this trip home since before school let out. Nearly everything was finished and her bags were packed and waiting at the front door for her to pick up and go come morning. It was going to be a long drive and she wanted to get it out of the way during the weekend so she had two blissful weeks in the dry heat before she packed up her bags and her dogs and returned to New York again. She had thought about leaving her babies home and having someone come in and check on them, but she knew her parents would want to see them and just couldn’t bring herself to leave them home and in the care of someone else. It was fine; it just meant she had to take a few more stops than she would have alone. But that was also why she was leaving at the crack of dawn.
She was going through her refrigerator, making sure she wouldn’t have any surprises of food gone bad when she got home and made a list of things to hand over to Dylan to use so it wouldn’t just go to waste. She knocked on his door and waited and when he didn’t answer she let herself in thinking he’d slept in and it was well past time to get up or he had his headphones on and couldn’t hear her knocking. A quick glance around though, showed the petite blonde that her neighbour wasn’t even home. And one guess told Bridget exactly where the doctor was; work. She hated hospitals; everyone who knew her knew that. It took a lot to get her to even walk through the doors of one. But with everything she had to do to prepare for this trip, she hadn’t been able to talk to Dylan since the ball. And that just wouldn’t do.
So she dug out the picnic basket she kept in the cupboard, tossed in some of this and that and after making sure she had her phone and keys, left the apartment. She set the basket in the front seat of her car before moving around to the other side and slipping behind the wheel. She made a stop at the deli by the apartment, picking up their favourites and drinks, putting her purchases in the basket as well, before continuing her drive over to the hospital Dylan worked. Her heart started racing the moment the building came into view, but she parked her car, grabbed the basket and with her head high walked through the doors. She had spent way too much time inside the walls of a similar building. Just swap the cities and there wasn’t much difference between. It wasn’t that Bridget was ever really sick as a child, in fact she was quite healthy. But as her father was a very big man in the hospital back in Vegas, he spent most of his time within the sterile walls. And if she or her mother wanted to see him, they had to go to him most times.
And since it was extremely rare for Bridget to even be in the building, she had absolutely no idea where Dylan’s office would be. Looking around, the professor found the information desk and asked the older woman behind where she might find Dr. Griffin’s office. Bee listened intently, and after thanking the woman followed the directions to the proper floor and hopefully proper hall; though the last part left Bridget a little confused until she found a nurse and asked specifically for his office door. A smile crossed the nurse’s lips as she spoke of Dr. Griffin and Bee couldn’t help but roll her eyes when the other woman turned away to show her where to go. The man was like Little Bo Peep for women! Everywhere the man went, the women were sure to follow. Polite to her face, Bridget smiled and thanked the nurse before knocking on Dylan’s door and waiting to hear anything. When she didn’t hear any voices at all, she tried the handle, pushing the door open enough to let herself in.
She stopped when she saw him asleep in his chair. Bridget was thinking about just setting the basket on his desk with a note for when he woke up when he called out and jolted awake. “I thought I would surprise you with lunch since I won’t see you for a couple weeks,” she said, stepping further into the room and shutting the door behind her. She set the basket on his desk, covering files and folders, effectively making them temporarily forgettable. Moving around the desk, Bridget moved a couple things over and leaned a hip against the desk in front of Dylan. “What was that? A nightmare?” she asked worried that something was wrong.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 809 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 18, 2013 16:00:19 GMT -5
Even with how busy work usually managed to keep him, Dylan always had time for friends and socialising. Some weeks he could make it out to the bars on the weekend, or even escape the city altogether for one of his diving adventures with friends he didn’t get to see too often. Most of the time, even when he was swamped and working every day for a week straight, he still managed to find time to see Bridget and share a meal and at least one bottle of wine with his neighbour. Recently, it had been impossible to even get that into his life and the last time he could honestly recall spending time with Bridget it had been when he was spinning her around the dance floor at the masquerade ball, right before she had chased after a mortician and a neurosurgeon had broken up a fight between an emergency room doctor and a law professor. It all sounded like some terrible joke, but it had happened and since then the hospital had been full of whispers and Dylan had assumed Bridget’s absence was because she was helping her friend. He had had his hands full with work, too, so they had been just like passing strangers rather than what they usually were.
Dylan often prided himself on keeping his head above water. Even when he lost patients he had ways of dealing with it that didn’t result in a spiral of hate and despair. It was an awful thing to happen to any doctor, but he had found his way of coping and he had other patients who couldn’t afford for their doctor to be caught up in a haze over something he couldn’t go back and change. It hurt every single time, but Dylan persevered and pushed on. He didn’t want that to happen this time, not when it was like looking into a dark mirror showing him the reason why he had opted for the difficult profession, fought to get this position and worked hard to prove to his superiors that he deserved it. However, if they caught him staring at a light-board with a scan from thirteen years ago they might have a few questions for him.
Sitting up and taking a deep breath to try and fight away the sleep and the demons it had brought with it, Dylan pulled open the top drawer of his desk and reached for the painkillers. It might have been psychological with everything that he was fretting about, but he could feel one of his migraines on the approach; as if he needed the reminder. His blue eyes fell on the basket as he swallowed the capsules without the aid of water and then tossed the bottle back where he had pulled it from. “You’re heading home already?”
[/color] He was surprised at how fast that time had gone and felt bad that he hadn’t realised sooner that he would be without Bridget for that time, whether he liked it or not. He enjoyed their spur of the moment dinners and conversations while they diminished his wine stock. “Do you need me to check on anything while you’re away?”[/color] He asked, quickly scrambling the loose papers that were still exposed together and slipping them back into the file that had oddly captured his attention this morning before he had fallen asleep. Managing a laugh, he shook his head, trying to pretend that everything was alright. “It’s just a stressful week.”[/color] He said, shaking his head and hoping that she wouldn’t worry. He’d had the nightmares for more than ten years and never spoken about them to anyone before. Dylan was so used to shouldering everyone else’s problems as well as his own that he couldn’t quite get used to the idea that he could actually share his with the people he trusted the most. “So, what exactly do we have for lunch?”[/color] He asked, putting on a smile and trying to change the subject. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 705! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 18, 2013 20:04:44 GMT -5
She didn’t look at the papers scattered all over his desk. She didn’t give them much thought at all, having basically been trained to ignore them whenever she was in her father’s office. Her father’s desk was always scattered with files, folders, loose papers with all sorts of patient information on them. It got to the point that whenever she visited, the desk didn’t even exist to her. And it only existed right now for Bridget because she needed a place to put the basket and lean her backside. If she hadn’t needed a place to set her things, she would still be acting as though the space directly in front of Dylan wasn’t there at all.
Bee nodded her head, crossing her legs at her ankles, stretched out in front of her in the space available. “I’m leaving about six tomorrow. Get a good head start before I have to stop,” she informed him. She figured if she left around six in the morning, she could get a good chunk of the drive out of the way before Catherine and Heathcliff stirred and needed a stretch and bathroom break. She already knew she would have to stop a half dozen times for coffee breaks if she was going to do the thirty eight hour drive without having to stop for the night. “Yes, actually,” she said, laughing. “The plants are going to need water and I’ve some things that can go bad in your refrigerator instead of mine while I’m gone.” She was excited about going home for a couple weeks. It would be good for her to actually get some sun and to spend some time with her parents. Bridget’s mother visited often enough with false pretenses, which the professor could hardly find fault in. She missed her mother most of all. And she was looking forward to picking up some new recipes to try out, walks in the old neighbourhood with the dogs.
Bridget wondered, watching Dylan closely, if he realised she could see right through the lie. She had seen him during bad weeks; she knew what they looked like. And though the week may have been tougher than most, it wasn’t one of those bad weeks. But, she was going to let him have the moment, pretend like she believed what he said. She shook her head and smiling turned to the basket taking up just enough space on the desk. “Your favourite, my favourite,” she said pulling the sandwiches from the basket and holding his out to him. “Made it myself,” she said, blatantly lying. She could bake; she never claimed she could cook well. She could only cook a few things and they really weren’t anything to write home about. “And there’s some strawberry tarts and éclairs, I didn’t know which you would want,” she added, moving her sandwich to her other hand and pulling first one bottle than the other drink from the basket. She was trying to get everything she baked out of her fridge and eaten before she left in the morning. There were containers put together and what could be frozen, transferred to the icebox and what couldn’t was being dropped off to all her friends.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 537 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 18, 2013 20:33:59 GMT -5
Dylan’s family still lived in the city and he could hop on his bike and ride for no more than an hour to visit any of them. Belfast was a different story entirely. He still had aunts and uncles over on the Emerald Isle, but he hadn’t seen them in a good few years and it had been them to visit New York. He hadn’t been to Belfast in years and it was starting to make him feel homesick now that everyone he knew seemed to be returning to the places they called home for a few weeks. “Well if you need a hand loading the car or anything, I’ll be awake at that hour.”
[/color] He usually woke up at five when he was in work and much later on his days off, but it seemed like a guarantee that he wouldn’t be asleep for very long tonight before that nightmare would wrench him out of his slumber again. Whenever that happened Dylan gave up trying to sleep and instead found something productive to do that wouldn’t disturb his neighbour. He nodded his head and brushed his fingers through his hair, smoothing the style out. “The plants will survive and if the food doesn’t appeal to me then I’m sure the boys will find something to do with it.”[/color] His dogs would eat anything they could sniff out and it was dangerous to leave anything on the counters, even if he thought it was out of reach. He was sure they had learnt to balance on each other to reach things. Standing up, he looked over their lunch and threw Bridget a look of amusement at her obvious lie as he gratefully accepted the sandwich from her. He couldn’t actually remember if he had eaten breakfast that morning or not. “I’ll eat all of it. You know me.”[/color] Crossing the room he turned the lock on his door so that no one could disturb their unconventional little picnic and then moved to rearrange the furniture slightly so it was more homely than professional. He had done his best with the small space, adding a plant, painting and some personal touches to the small room with the meagre window, but it still resembled a doctor’s office more than anything else. “Sit down.”[/color] He told her, gesturing to his chair as he flopped on the small armchair that was usually where the relatives sat. Dylan reached for the bottle and chugged back a few mouthfuls to ease his dry throat and then bit into his sandwich. “Thanks, Bee. I needed this.”[/color] Her company managed to pull the darkness from his thoughts even if it was just for a little while. Loosening the tie around his neck and popping the top two buttons, Dylan relaxed a little bit, but as he chewed on the bread, his eyes fell on the light-board for another long moment before he managed to shake it clear from his head. “At least I won’t have a sideboard of empty wine bottles while you’re gone.”[/color] He teased, rubbing his stiff neck while digging into his share of the desk picnic. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 563! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 19, 2013 18:54:48 GMT -5
Bridget wasn’t missing Las Vegas. She could go the rest of her life without stepping foot in that city ever again. Having grown up there, it lost its’ wonder for her when she was still just a teenager; not that Vegas held any wonder or mystery at all for the blonde professor. It didn’t. She only went back every year for her parents. Her father didn’t come up to New York to see her and since she moved up North, he visited once. It was Bridget who made the trips out across the country for a couple weeks here and there. If her parents decided to pack everything up and move, she would probably never step foot in her hometown again. She had never cared for it and had only stayed there for as long as she really had to. If there had been any way she could have left sooner, she probably would have.
“Loading the car? You’re making it sound like I’m never coming back,” she said, “I think I’m just going to put my three bags in tonight, maybe. The trouble is getting Catherine in the car. She hates the drive.” Bridget had lost count since she’d adopted the little dog how many times she’s had to clean out the backseat or actually fight to get the tiny thing into the car in the first place! Bridget would finally catch her running through the apartment, get her down to the car and it would be another twenty minutes getting her to stay! Heathcliff on the other hand loved the car; he sat like a good boy with his head out the window or curled up in the back, snoring softly. Once Catherine was in the car, she was fine; it was just getting her there. “Just make sure I don’t come home to dead greenery, or see if you get any more pastries,” she said, the threat completely empty and they both knew it.
Bridget should have packed more things. But if it didn’t get eaten now, it would eventually. She hadn’t actually thought about it and only tossed in what was front and centre on the shelves. If anything else, Dylan would get whatever was left over anyway, Bee hated leaving food to go bad when someone could use it. “You say that but you haven’t seen my apartment yet today,” she said making a face. “By the time I get back you’ll be sick of it all,” she teased, though she thought she might be right. She honestly didn’t think there was that much. And yet, when she’d gone through everything, there was too much. She put quite a bit in the icebox, letting it freeze until later when she felt like she wanted something or when she needed the extra bits for whatever.
As Dylan went about rearranging the space a little Bridget unwrapped her sandwich and took a bit, savouring the taste and knowing it was going to be too long before she could forget about cooking and just run down to the deli and pick up food. It was always the silly things like that, that Bridget missed when she was in Vegas. “Yes, dear,” she muttered, taking the seat he’d vacated and twisting herself into a pretzel to eat. “It's what I'm here for,” she said, taking a bite. As she chewed, she watched Dylan. There was something sad in his eyes and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. She didn’t like seeing anyone she cared about upset and even if he didn’t know it, she saw that he was. “Oh, ha-ha! You’ll miss me after a couple days of silence,” she said before taking a sip from her drink. She waited another couple silent bites before washing it all down again. She wanted so bad to ask him what was wrong but she didn’t want to be blunt about it in case he got mad at her and pushed her away.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 664 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 19, 2013 21:54:32 GMT -5
Dylan did miss Belfast, but he knew it was just the memories more than the place itself. Belfast reminded him of his childhood, his dad and the days before he was sick and then studying to stand where he was now. They were days of innocence, endless hope and nothing but fun for the small family. Still, he could never rule out a return to the city even if he had no immediate plans for such a thing. Dylan had learnt a long time ago that there were things in life that could change a person’s perspective on ideas like that. Chuckling, he ran his fingers through his hair again like he always did when he wasn’t feeling quite like himself. “I have more bags than that when I go away for a weekend.”
[/color] He joked, although his bags were usually full of necessary equipment for his dives as well as his every day clothes. Those trips were when he had to call in a favour with his mother and borrow her car for the weekend, since his bike just wouldn’t do. Pretending to look aghast, Dylan’s hands flew to his chest. “But those pastries are the only reason I still have my gym membership.”[/color] He joked, although the baked delights were devilish enough to make him feel guilty if he did miss a workout or two in a week. He shook his head and peered at the impromptu lunch that he probably would’ve unintentionally skipped if Bridget hadn’t arrived at his office. “I have my sisters staying over tomorrow night. I’ll let them raid whatever you leave so that they keep their paws off my food. I have no idea where they put it all.”[/color] Dylan loved having his youngest sisters stay at his apartment when his schedule and theirs allowed for it. They were still young enough to be entertained with silly games and bedtime stories since the teenage years hadn’t reached them yet. Plus, he hoped it might be enough to distract him from the operation on Monday morning; they were both too young to know of his own story, so they wouldn’t do or say anything to drag his mind there even if they were playing daft childhood games in the spacious apartment. “I’ll be too busy spending the next couple of days appreciating what silence is.”[/color] He teased with a soft smirk dancing on his lips. He probably would miss their spontaneous evenings together and their meetings in the hallway outside of their apartments when they were coming or going from someplace or another. It was just nice sometimes, especially since Dylan only returned to the scampering of paws after a long day. He tried his best not to, he really did, but the nightmare was still pulling at the edges of his thoughts and his eyes slowly drifted back to the light-board. He chewed in silence, almost forgetting about his company for a short second before he managed to pull his thoughts together again as he reached for his drink. “So, any great plans for Vegas?”[/color] He asked her, trying to keep his thoughts in line and out of reach of his personal demons. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 571! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 19, 2013 23:47:36 GMT -5
There was nothing wrong with Vegas for Bridget. It was just that growing up there had taken away the glitz and glamour. She felt like most of the people born and raised in the small city moved away the minute they had their chance for bigger and better things. Some eventually went back, her father did. But others, like Bridget wouldn’t go back for much more than because of some sort of event they couldn’t be excused from, or like Bridget, to visit family. She knew there were people in the small city that grew up and grew old by the strip but it had never been for Bridget. And she knew there were people who had the fondest memories that kept them going back home for visits and trips. All of Bridget’s best memories weren’t categorised by where she was but by whom she was with. She never liked thinking about losing a parent but it would be then when she really wouldn’t know what to do with herself; she would be lost.
“I don’t have to bring oxygen tanks or flippers with me,” she said blandly, sending Dylan a look that was equally insipid. “If I tried, I could probably get away with one or two bags,” she added, teasing because she didn’t need to bring a million things with her. She was lucky that Vegas had such heat; she didn’t need huge, bulky sweaters or pants. She would be completely fine in shorts and crop tops. It was about the only thing she liked about the city she was going to visit these days. “Well then you’ll be able to cancel the membership and save yourself some money.” Those same pastries were the reason Bridget tried to get to the school’s facilities at least a couple times a week. She felt better afterward when she returned to her office and finished up whatever work she’d set aside until then.
Bridget was afraid of what she would find when she was finished looking through her cupboards and pantry. She kept her kitchen fully stocked with everything she would or could ever need in a recipe, along with more than enough containers to put it all in afterwards. “Lily and Kyla are coming to visit? I’ll be sorry I’m missing them. I’ll make sure to pack a few extras of their favourites if I remember them correctly,” Bee said, already thinking about what she had and what the young girls’ favourites were. The blonde professor usually had a good memory with things like these, remembering the favourites of her friends or the little sisters of them. Bridget rolled her eyes, smirking. “And then it’ll get too quiet and you’ll end up spending more nights in this very room because at least then it’ll be something to do.” She knew what the life of a doctor was like, she’d lived with one or around one her whole life.
At first, when she’d moved to New York, she thought of all the people in the entire city, the chances of her even moving into a building with a doctor was pretty slim. And yet, she had managed to move into the only building available with one; and right next door, too. But that simply meant that she could understand a lot better than most, the idea of what Dylan was going through; she’d already lived through most of the personal side of it all. Grinning, Bridget nodded. “Oh yeah, I’ve got two full weeks of lounging by the pool and sitting in a kitchen. I might take a day to shop, we haven’t finalised all the plans just yet.” She didn’t have a single thing planned for her time at home because with her mother, it was easier to have an open plan than anything fixed.
Giving in to her own personality, Bridget finished off the half of sandwich in her hand quickly before untangling herself from the chair she’d taken up and walking across the room, flicking the switch for the light-board. “What’s with this? You keep looking over at it and getting this faraway look,” she said, letting her words fade away as the patient’s name practically jumped out at her. She knew enough about her father’s and Dylan’s profession to have a basic understanding of what she was looking at. Her eyes wide, Bridget turned around to look at Dylan, her eyes clouded with confusion.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 737 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 20, 2013 0:21:21 GMT -5
Dylan hadn’t been given a choice when it came to moving to New York. He had still been a kid at the time, but he had been given the chance to go anywhere he wanted when college rolled around. It had been family ties and the situations at the time that kept him in the city with the bright lights. He didn’t regret any of it and New York was where he saw his future, but sometimes he did wonder what his choice might have been if he had been a little more selfish and cared less about what his siblings got up to. They were all practically adults at the time, aside from Lily and Kyla who didn’t even have memories of those years. Still, there was nothing he could do to change that choice and there was nothing that he wanted to change about it. He still had his freedom and his family were just a ride away if he wanted to visit any of them.
“You should. You never know what adventures you might find deep under the water.”
[/color] With each time they brought it up in conversation, Dylan’s resolve to get Bridget on one of his trips only grew. “You probably could, but then you’d come back and moan to me about something you forgot or didn’t take with you and then a bottle of wine later you’d realise it didn’t matter anymore.”[/color] He teased, exaggerating just a little bit. The truth in that was that they really could polish off a bottle of wine without really thinking about it, so it was a good job that both could handle it, or else they would probably have suffered greatly in the time since they had met. “Ah, this is true. And I am saving for a new dive watch.”[/color] He pretended to contemplate letting her plants dry out just to save him the gym membership that he paid each month, but the smirk spread across his lips too easily. It wasn’t money that he missed and even without Bridget’s treats he would still want the membership so he could run off nightmares and stress whenever it did hit him next. Luckily, it wasn’t all that often. Dylan nodded his head and brushed the crumbs from the corners of his mouth. “Mmhm. Mam’s dropping them off after Kyla finishes her dance class tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be sure to let them know that they’re not having princess makeovers this trip.”[/color] He joked, although the two energetic girls would quickly find some other way to fill the time. They always did and it usually involved Dylan carrying or swinging them about the apartment until the dogs were barking and his arms felt like they were about to drop off. “I have never spent a night in this office when I wasn’t on call.”[/color] He stated honestly. He spent free days there, like today, but he always found his way home sooner or later. “I am probably going to be working late most of next week though.”[/color] He had long, fiddlesome procedures booked in and those were before the more urgent cases ended up on his desk. He hadn’t chosen an easy path, but he still loved every minute of it. Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and reached for the second half of his sandwich. “But where’s the adventure in that? It’s not a holiday without an adventure.”[/color] He loved relaxing by the pool as much as the next person, but whenever Dylan did steal a week or two away there were more activities crammed into that time than he probably had the energy for. He loved seeing and experiencing things though, which was why even his days off from the hospital always had something going on in them, even if it was errands and sandblasting some piece of furniture out on his terrace. He jumped to his feet to try and reach the light-board before she did, but not being on his usual side of his desk proved more of a hindrance than he was expecting. The sigh left his lips as he realised why her voice had trailed off and his blue eyes stayed fixed on her as she turned to look at him. He wasn’t going to lie to Bridget, even if they were about to discuss one of his least favourite topics about his past. “Don’t worry; it’s fourteen years old.”[/color] He said, his voice on the quiet side. The age of it was the reason it wasn’t up on his computer screen; technology hadn’t progressed that far when Dylan was just a kid. “I’m fine.”[/color] He said firmly, wanting to reassure the blonde professor before she could bombard him with questions, freak out or hit him. He didn’t talk about it so he didn’t know what to expect. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 856! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 24, 2013 0:51:06 GMT -5
Bridget had all sorts of options when she was ready to pull up stakes in Nevada. But it had always been New York since she was a small child. One of the only vacations spots the family went to over and over again was New York City. The other places were once, maybe twice but New York had been every other Christmas. It had just seemed right when the job came up. And it couldn’t have been more perfect timing. She needed new scenery outside her window and though she couldn’t have asked for a better group of students at the high school she was working while finishing her PhD, she wanted older students; ones who could actually understand her when she went on a ramble about this out that. They didn’t have to be able to keep up with her, though it was nice to know that at least half of them could. She might have had to go back to Nevada for a couple weeks each summer, but at least she knew she wasn’t staying.
“Where do you think I’m going, exactly? One of your grand adventures? I’m going home. With my mother, the master pastry chef who I swear only had a child because she needed a line cook, I’ll be lucky if I see my backyard!” she said, laughing. It was a big inside joke between the pair because Bridget had been helping her mother in the kitchen from the time she could stand on her own two feet and sift flour into a bowl with help. There were pictures in too many albums to count of a cherub faced white-blonde baby girl with a bow in her hair sitting on the counter clad in a diaper and baby sized apron, covered in flour and holding a wooden spoon. She wouldn’t give up a minute of it though, it had been how she learned to cope with everything around her; bake the emotions away. “And if I forget something, I’ll either get over it or buy a new one,” she said with a shrug. “And it would be at least two before I came to that conclusion.” But only because she had to admit, Dylan had a very good collection of wine stored up. “See! There you go! That’s a bit of extra money to toss towards and get that watch sooner,” she said lifting the bottle to her lips.
Bridget didn’t have little siblings or even cousins younger than her. By all accounts, she was the youngest in the family. Of course, the only two cousins she had were so far from having children, it was looking it Bridget would be the first with a child; and even that was a very long way off. Normally, that would have meant Bridget wouldn’t be any good with kids or even teenagers. But it was the opposite, really. She got along well and the first time Bridget had met Dylan’s little sisters had firstly been an accident but by the end of the night Bridget was helping her neighbour clean up from the flour fight that occurred. Bridget smiled, nodding. “I believe you,” she said, and she did. He might have crawled through the door so late that the noise had Bridget worrying, but he did go home at the end of the day. Unlike herself who had woken up on the couch in her office too many times to count; especially during exams and midterms. “Just promise you’ll sleep somewhere in that week,” she said, concerned like she always was. Being a doctor was hard enough, add in that Dylan was a surgeon and it just added to the hours.
“Home is not a holiday,” she said blandly, wanting to point out what she’d said earlier but deciding against it. Going home for Bridget meant she was another line cook for her mother to toss orders at. Obviously, the petite blonde didn’t mind, or she wouldn’t make such regular visits home, but it also meant that making plans for her trips was pointless. There was always an order that needed to be filled, always something and even on the free days, they were doing something; even if in those cases it was lounging by the pool and complaining about the celebrities filling the glossy pages of their magazines.
Bridget didn’t know what she was expecting lighting up the board. But it hadn’t been a scan with Dylan’s name on it. If anything, Bridget had thought it was a particularly nasty case with a patient of his own. Math wasn’t her strong suit, but Bridget was far better at it than she let on and quickly did the math. “Fourteen years? You were thirteen?” she asked, saddened for the boy who had lost so much of his childhood no doubt, being in and out of doctor’s offices and hospitals. Letting her emotions get the better of her, Bridget wrapped her arms around Dylan’s middle, pressing herself to him for a minute before looking up at him. “You better be or I’m killing you. How bad was it?”
Tag || Dylan! Words || 850 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 24, 2013 14:42:59 GMT -5
Dylan had stayed in New York because of his family. While he had worked his way onto the fast track to get into college and had early admission on his side, he had shouldered the burdens of his siblings since he had been a kid and sick in a hospital bed of his own. It had started out with smiles and reassurances of feeling fine when his head honestly felt like it would explode. He was the big brother and the eldest child and had always seen it as his duty to look out for and take care of his family, especially after the untimely death of their father. Staying in New York for school had ensured that he could do all of that as well as his university and medical work. He didn’t regret any of it and saw New York as his home where he had great friends and people he could rely on, should he ever need to.
“One of these days I’m going to kidnap you and show you ‘a grand adventure’ as you put it. And, for the record, Jumanji happened in a house and I’m pretty certain that was quite an adventure.”
[/color] It had also been one of the only movies that had been on in the hospital when he was a kid that wasn’t too young to hold his attention and so he knew the entire plot inside and out whether he wanted to know it or not. “I’d probably also save money if I wasn’t refilling my drinks cupboard every week.”[/color] He teased harmlessly. Almost all of the bottles in there were gifts from birthdays since no one ever seemed to know what to buy the Irish man. He topped it up with another bottle or two each time he hit the store, but they were mainly the bottles of wine he shared with Bridget on the evenings when they ate together. Dylan was used to the pressures of being an older brother and eldest son. He was used to having the marriage conversations with relatives when they came into town and asked if he had found a nice girl to settle down with yet. Each time he responded the same; that he was still focusing on work and earning his place at the hospital and then they’d click their tongues and warn him that, someday, some woman would come along and change all of that. Dylan could probably act out the conversation word for word by now, but he just gave them a polite smile and nodded before someone would find another topic of conversation. Lily and Kyla were technically his half-sisters, but Dylan never called them as such and didn’t think it really mattered. He still fussed over and looked after them like he had done with Freddie and Georgina when they were still small. Now he was meeting up with the older two for drinks or chasing off Georgina’s bad choice ex-boyfriends when they came around to the freshman’s apartment. “I think I have a free hour on Wednesday.”[/color] He joked, before smiling sincerely across at Bridget and letting his blue eyes meet hers. “I promise.”[/color] He didn’t know how long the nightmares would let him sleep for, but if Monday’s surgery went without a hitch then hopefully they’d go away again. If Dylan could just get through that procedure and have some good news to offer at the end of it, then he knew he could breathe a little easier and the extra stress he was carrying would vanish for the time being. “It’s still an escape from the New York stresses. Where I’m from, it’s a holiday.”[/color] He shrugged lightly. It was one of the reasons why he took off when a free weekend opened up in his schedule. Just a few days without worrying about getting called to the hospital, fussing over the time and if he had to be somewhere by 4pm…it was just nice to be able to toss his cell phone somewhere and not race to answer it if it rang. He didn’t care how busy his plans kept him or if he could fit it all in; just the little breaks from the routine were nice. He had only dug out his own file because of the similarities in the cases. He had figured that if he confronted his own past from this point of view then it might steel his nerves a little more before Monday. It was difficult with the nightmares, but Dylan was determined to make it work; he just hadn’t counted on Bridget paying him a visit and finding out for herself. “Yeah; for a bit of it.”[/color] It had spanned across a handful of years before doctors had finally released Dylan with confidence, but even now the migraines were an old reminder of what he had been through. “Whoa, hey.”[/color] He managed a small chuckle as Bridget’s arms found their way around him. He hugged her back, resting his chin atop her head for a second before she pulled back. Dylan took a moment before answering, trying to choose the best answer to her question without boring her with the technicalities. “It was pretty bad for a while, but I was a lucky kid.”[/color] He didn’t want her to get upset or worry about him, so he settled for something simple. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 938! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 26, 2013 20:57:44 GMT -5
Bridget rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jumanji revolved around a boy who thought he was all alone and unloved by his family. Emphasis on boy,” she said. If she were being honest, she had only ever seen that movie once and it was when it first came out and even then she had no idea what happened through most of it. She had been too busy like always to sit through the movie and watch it all completely. “And doesn’t telling me you’re going to kidnap me sort of defeat the purpose of a kidnapping. I mean by definition a kidnap victim isn’t aware of the plans before they happen. And now I know about it.” Not that it mattered in any way for Dylan. She knew it would happen, eventually, but she didn’t know anything else about it. Bridget shrugged. “Probably,” she said, easily enough. “But then our relationship wouldn’t work as it does. I feed you pastries, you feed me wine. It’s perfect,” she joked.
Bridget was an only child and the youngest of the family. She got everything she wanted and not just because she asked for it all. But because she was so determined that she didn’t let her parents negative answers stop her from going after what she wanted. But Dylan sort of let her into his world, let her see what life was like with kids running around, looking up to you, even if it was for a couple hours here and there. She appreciated that more than he would ever know. She had always wanted to have siblings, so she would be so alone. But her parents showed her plenty of attention and with all the kids in the neighbourhood, it was like she had too many siblings. She still spoke to most of them, but there was only one on the whole street she would call her sister. “Oh, well, an whole hour in seven days? I suppose that works,” she said drily.
The people Bridget knew always shook their heads at her, or wondered why she didn’t like going home. It was the simple fact that growing up there made the famous city lose all its mystery and allure. If she took away her parents, the only thing she liked about the city were the miniatures of famous monuments from places she wanted to visit. “See, I don’t find this place all that stressful,” she said with a shrug. Of course, she also didn’t have that stressful of a job like Dylan. She had days with no classes and minimal hours in her office helping her students. There were plenty of times when Bridget was down the block from the school catching a late lunch or doing some quick shopping because she had no classes or office hours for some time.
Bridget had had a pretty normal childhood. She’d broken a couple bones here and there, scraped more skin off her knees and elbows than she probably should have being active and running around the neighbourhood with the rest of the kids. But she’d never been so sick she had to be hospitalised; so sick there was a chance she wouldn’t see her next birthday. And it broke her heart knowing there was a time in Dylan’s life that that was a possibility. She didn’t think children should have to deal with any of that. Bridget didn’t care of Dylan thought her an emotional mess and she didn’t care that she was well aware that he was fine now because he was standing in front of her. She needed the extra reassurance. “How long is a while?” she asked, unable to help herself, she wanted to know.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 620 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --BonJovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Mar 27, 2013 17:15:50 GMT -5
Rolling his eyes, Dylan let out a sigh and shook his head. “But it was still an adventure, which is the point I was trying to make. Gender does not come into that.”
[/color] He said, waving the topic away with his hand before smirking at Bridget’s next comment and flicking his blue eyes up to meet hers. “But you don’t know when or where it’ll happen and that is the beauty of it. You might be coming out of a class or your apartment or the elevator…there’re still so many possibilities.”[/color] There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Obviously he wouldn’t just snatch her from the middle of something important or ruin any other plans she might have already had, but Dylan was not beyond waking her up at the crack of dawn once the car was loaded and prepared and just dragging her away one quiet weekend. “I’m glad to know that the foundation of our relationship is wine and sugar.”[/color] He teased, the smirk dancing across his lips. “I’ll take what I can get.”[/color] He promised with a soft shrug. If the nightmares left him well enough alone then Monday night would be a welcomed and deep sleep, but if the stress took a few days to clear up then Dylan was used to dealing with that game of his subconscious, too. At least with his sisters staying they might be able to help him relax over the weekend and take his mind off the very long day he would have come Monday morning when his alarm ripped him from whatever state he was in at the time. Dylan never tired of New York. His trips and escapes were more for his mental stresses than anything else, but the city itself would never bore him or make him feel exhausted with everything he had there. He had chosen to chase this dream and he had known from the start what it would entail. He had no regrets, even on the nights he was exhausted and dragging himself through the front door of his apartment. “That might have something to do with your charming and handsome neighbour who lets you drink his wine and cooks you dinner from time to time.”[/color] Dylan smiled, with just the tiniest hint of a flirtation seeping through. He needed those nights as much as she did, and he was far too used to them to have them suddenly vanish from his life now. Dylan had experienced the same childhood injuries as most, but his time in and out of the hospital had almost forced him to grow up before he was ready. He didn’t think any child ought to face death, but it happened all the same, and now it was part of his job to try and pull them back from the edge with any surgical procedure he could think of. It was that which had pulled him back down memory lane this time. He wanted to give his patient the same fighting chance he had been given. He had only been in his first year of college when he had realised that without the surgery as a child he probably wouldn’t have survived, or at least pulled through like he had done. Still, as much as he wanted to shield Bridget from all of that pain and those horrible thoughts Dylan just couldn’t lie to her. “Medically, it spun across three years. I was getting better for most of that though. I had surgery just after that scan was done and then radio and chemo therapy cleared out the rest.”[/color] He confessed, shrugging lightly and moving some of Bridget’s hair back over her shoulder as a distraction to himself. “I still have the scar.”[/color] He added with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood again. It was still a difficult topic to talk about when he wasn’t using the medical terms and distancing himself from the experience like he usually did when he was on the clock. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 711! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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Post by Bridget Cameron Delaynee on Mar 28, 2013 23:25:34 GMT -5
Bridget sighed, wondering how they had gotten themselves into this odd conversation. Then again, half the time they were together, it seemed like some oddball topic would crop up and they would just roll with it for a while. Instead of continuing it by trying to come up with something clever to say back to him, she dropped it just as he brushed it away. “You take me from an elevator, you better be picking me up and carrying me away. It would be the only way I’d go.” She sounded serious, she looked serious enough but she was far from serious. It would certainly be quite the story to tell. “And real butter. You can’t forget the butter,” she joked, clicking her fingers.
Bridget wasn’t a stranger to sleep though she didn’t get much of it herself. Since she was a teenager, she hardly had a few hours a night and that was just fine for her. Though she was pretty sure half her teachers and friends thought she lived on coffee and sugar because she was so hyper growing up. “Steal a bit if you can,” she said, though she knew if he was as lucky to steal a few extra hours outside the hospital as she was to do anything productive during her trip home. Bridget raised a brow. “Charming and handsome? Have you been listening to the nurse’s conversations again? Because I really hate to be the one to tell you but, they weren’t talking about you,” she teased in a stage whisper. Now that those nights were more often than not, Bridget didn’t know what she would do during the two weeks away. She was far too used to being able to unwind with Dylan curled up on the couch with a movie and a glass of wine or around the kitchen table with a meal and a laugh.
Bridget didn’t like hospitals. It was practically the first thing she told people about herself. Her name was Bridget, she was a professor, baked excessively and hated hospitals with a passion. Her friends back in Nevada used to think it was funny that she hated the buildings so much when her father was a doctor and it was nearly the only place she could see him during the day. But visiting nearly every day had had the opposite effect of calming her nerves and having her be okay with the place. She saw what happened in hospitals, she knew what happened, and despite it going well more often than not, there were those few cases. She worried every time her father went into work that it would somehow break him. It wasn’t until later that she realised just how strong he was, and just how close her parents were. They may not have seen each other a lot throughout a day but they spoke often, usually about trivial things and then, at night when he got home, they would sit and talk about it all. Bridget wouldn’t have known that was happening if she hadn’t been studying late one night for an exam in her senior year and overheard them talking in the living room. There were three people on the entire planet and three only that she would turn to for medical advice. And she would go to them before she ever stepped foot in a hospital. And one of them was standing with her, and indulging her emotional state by holding her close.
It was silly to think but since Dylan waltzed into her life, Bridget didn’t know where she would be without him. It was strange to think that at one point there was a chance they never would have met. She didn’t know what to say to Dylan’s story, not exactly. There’s was plenty she could say but none of it would be what she wanted to say. So she nodded, said, “Okay,” because she understood that he was through the worst of it and that was what mattered. Bee tilted her head to the side, a light smirk playing on her lips. “And the ladies love a man with scars,” she said. After a second or two, Bridget nodded her head again, put her hands on Dylan’s arms and swallowed to wet her dry throat. “Okay, so why bring out your chart now? A similar patient?” she asked, turning her attention between Dylan, the board and back again.
Tag || Dylan! Words || 737 Clothes || Blonde Beauty Music || Thick As Thieves --Bon Jovi Notes || <3
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Post by Dylan Ellis Griffin on Apr 2, 2013 17:58:22 GMT -5
Dylan took a second to contemplate the idea and then slowly nodded his head, envisioning the kidnapping in some strange land of imagination that very rarely escaped his mind. “I’m pretty certain that would be the only way of kidnapping you without you running back and trying to pack a case…”
[/color] He mused, his blue eyes flicking across to meet Bridget’s as he just about managed to hold back the playful grin twitching at the corners of his lips. Nodding in agreement, Dylan ran his fingers over his jaw as he had flashbacks to his childhood, more specifically, the refrigerator of his childhood. “Remind me to introduce you to my mam one day.”[/color] The Griffin matriarch had only ever met Bridget in passing, but suddenly he realised that the pair would probably get along pretty well if they were actually given the chance to chat. The Irishman had been taught to cope with whatever sleep he could get. Ever since he was a teenager he had studied late into the night and stole sleep when he could for a handful of hours. Obviously it was more important now since feeling sleepy in the OR was a lot more dangerous than feeling sleepy in a classroom, but more often than not Dylan got enough shut-eye to see him through. Sometimes he passed out the second he was through his apartment door, but he had yet to screw up because he wasn’t getting enough rest. “What I can.”[/color] He promised again with a small, crooked smile. Grinning, Dylan couldn’t resist teasing Bridget more and their little conversation kept his mind from worrying about the things he couldn’t change yet. “Not the nurses; just the women in the coffee shop downstairs.”[/color] He said dramatically, though the chances of him doing anything with those women were slim to none. Most were married or pushing their way through med school and the banter he shared with them kept his mood light; he didn’t want anything more than that. Dylan didn’t mind playing doctor to his friends since he already cared about them enough to keep them in his life. It was when random strangers asked for advice the second they heard of his profession that he felt like sighing and rolling his eyes. He was a good guy, who would help, but there was a hell of a lot more to him than the white coat and the title. For the most part, he managed to keep his professional life separate from his personal so that he didn’t weigh others down with the stresses of his bad day, or bore them with the details of his routine. He knew that not many people liked hospitals and while saving lives and making a difference did make him feel great about everything, he also lost patients and that was something no one wanted to hear about and Dylan wanted to talk about it even less. Sure, he probably had tells to the people who knew him the best and they could read his moods a little easier and know when a day had been a triumphant one and when one had reminded Dylan that not everyone was supposed to grow old. He coped and while his career was still young he hoped to get a good handle on all of that so he didn’t throw away his own life with the anguish of losing others. He just didn’t want his patient on Monday to end up on that dark list of names that Dylan was almost certain he would never forget. Other than the well hidden scar, the only lasting reminder he had from his illness were the migraines that struck him sporadically and usually just called for a day of rest. He saw people coping with a lot worse on a daily basis. If it ever came back then it would be an entirely different scenario, but Dylan just didn’t see the point in bringing up a sad story that happened over a decade ago when, most of the time, it had no relevance to his day-to-day life. “Pssh, they love me and they don’t even know I have a scar.”[/color] Sometimes playing up his ego was a little too much fun. He had never been some popular, arrogant teenager who thought he could have his pick of the girls. He was usually too busy taking extra classes and making sure he had the grades to get into college with early admission. However, he did find it a little amusing and endearing when someone did confess to liking him; even now, at twenty-seven. He had just never thought of himself as that guy. Forgetting the jokes, Dylan nodded his head and sighed as his eyes travelled back towards the scan on the wall. “It’s almost identical. The kid is the same age and everything.”[/color] He took a moment to study the image some more and then shook his head, feeling a little silly now that he was going to say it out loud and to Bridget. “I just want him to have the identical recovery, too. And that’s sort of down to me to make that happen.”[/color] He knew he was putting more pressure on himself than he ought to, but Dylan just couldn’t help it this time. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify] • • • TAGGED! Bee <3 WORDS! 925! OUTFIT! Neat Neuro! LYRICS! More Than Friends - - - Gabrielle Aplin NOTES! <3 <3 <3
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