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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Dec 11, 2022 21:36:01 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
It was quiet but she knew better than to say anything like that aloud. Not only would she bring a mad rush into the emergency department but she would incur the wrath of her fellow staff. It was a well known fact that in moments like this, keeping your mouth shut was the only way to go. Still, the words were on the tip of her tongue and she did her best to keep them down. She could see others doing the same. Call it a hazard of the job --- no one wanted to be the one who introduced pure chaos into their lives once more.
There was part of her that craved those kinds of moments though. She would rather be ran off her feet than given too much down time. When she was with a patient, there was something in her that shifted and focused solely on ensuring they got the best care possible. In moments of downtime, she was less useful, her mind tending to wander all kinds of places.
(like how low her blood stash was at the moment; she needed to find a vampire willing to share if she hoped to replenish it)
She had caught up on her paperwork, handing all her charts back to the nurse behind the desk. As she did so, she caught sight of someone she hadn't crossed paths with in awhile. She would accuse him of avoiding her but that would be a bit egotistical. He simply had been on opposite shifts as her --- no nefarious plans in place. She couldn't help but think back to those tense moments in the break room. She had felt like she had cracked through the surface of what made him tick but she wasn't going to go around assuming she knew enough to go beyond that.
For now.
With the administrative part of her job done, Meredith pushed off the desk and moved towards her colleague. She came to stand next to him, surveying the emptiness of the waiting area once more. The urge to point it out came tumbling forward and she sighed. "You and I both know this won't last," she pointed out, figuring that she had skirted saying the dreaded phrase. That was her --- always dancing around the rules while at the same time claiming that she stuck to them. She waited a beat or two before looking up at him, her eyes probing.
"Long time no see, stranger. How have you been?"
No, she wasn't prying. Not at all.
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Dec 27, 2022 20:38:16 GMT
The itch usually started at times like this. It wasn’t just because of the vampire – although that breathless feeling whenever something startled him was all her – it was like being back on base, waiting for the gates to clang open to admit the first wave of casualties. You knew that something was happening out there, you were just caught in that no man’s land between wanting it to happen and wishing it would never hit. Between spending the morning at the admin desk, snatching for the splinters and the timewasters who just needed a few sympathetic words and a couple of tea.
Deck dragged a hand down his face as he stared at the chart of the eighty-six you old whose wrist he’d splinted in the only moment of semi-action he’d gotten last night. There hadn’t even been a wild story to go with it. Just a trip and fall in the kitchen, the man’s embarrassment at having wept as his daughter had driven him over. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in over the last few years, and the visits were increasing. He imagined it wouldn’t be long before his daughter convinced her dad to move in. Giving up the house he’d lived in with his wife for over 50 years before she’d died would likely crush whatever strength the man had left in him. He felt that, he really did.
Propping his elbows on the edge of the gurney in the exam area he’d retreated to the minute he’d walked through the door ten minutes ago, Deck frowned down at the chart. It would’ve been a thousand times easier if he’d walked in just as one of those explosive moments hit. A distraction from the painful quiet, if it was just for a time. Instead of it, he had charts to finish off, vending machines to raid for something edible in place of the lunch he’d neglected to take out of the refrigerator on the way out, nurses to drive up the wall with his pacing. He grimaced, scratching his fingertips through his hair. At some point something else would sweep into his life to eclipse the endless wait – fate couldn’t stand a vacuum any more than he could. The world wanted you off balance, all the better to make you grateful for what steadiness you did have in your life. Who you had.
Fingers dropped to his throat, closing around the pair of rings that hung from a chain. They were hidden beneath his scrub top, but he could trace the engraving on Soph’s blind. Even with her gone they were tethered together and nothing – not even blonde vampires who were doing him a favour could change that. Maybe he should head up to the blood bank while he was wandering aimlessly from one vending machine to another, make sure that she hadn’t ordered someone else to clear the place out. There was nothing wrong with preparation, even if it meant you’d crap your pants if someone else walked in while you were doing it.
Gathering the chart up, all the notes from last night wrapped up in time for his shift to actually start, Deck stepped from the exam room and paused there. He stared almost blankly at the waiting room, lamenting the fact that there was nothing to distract him from his plan now. Dark eyes locked onto the still, closed doors, darting aside as … shit.
Grimacing faintly, Deck tucked the chart against his stomach and ducked his head. He hadn’t been purposefully avoiding Meredith, not even if it might’ve looked that way. Had he volunteered to switch shifts for a few weeks? Maybe, but that had been a matter of filling a hole in the schedule, not avoiding looking at someone who’d seen the one in him. His mouth twitched into a wincing smile. ”Well, it won’t now,” he drawled lightly. ”You’ve thrown the invitation wide open.” Still holding the chart, he spread his hands out, like the masses would rush right into them, looking for a medical miracle.
He hadn’t turned his head towards her. Although he could see Meredith moving just out of the corner of his eye before she looked up at him. Deck straightened up an inch, like it would shrug off any idea that he’d been sat there, nursing the thing inside of him that shook like a leaf when he paid too much attention to it. One corner of his mouth lifted as he finally looked at her. ”Is that an ‘have you had any melt downs lately’ how have you been?” he asked. ”Or an ‘I’ve not seen you around in a while, what’ve you been up to how have you been?” Probably a mix of both. Letting out a long breath, Deck nodded. ”You know … up and down, but … honestly? Mostly up. How ‘bout you? Any other docs crying on your shoulder?” Not that it’d come to that, although maybe it’d been closer than he liked. The cracks in the dam opening up to let some of what had built up behind it spill out.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Jan 8, 2023 19:01:00 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
If the doors burst opened and they were flooded with people she knew that the blame would be laid at her feet. She would gladly accept it. She rarely shied away from taking responsibility (she just did her best to get caught in the first place). "Right, right," she said with a nod of agreement. "But don't lie --- that's what we both secretly kind of want anyway. That rush of adrenaline. The way the mind sort of goes into overdrive to figure out all the answers. Truthfully we are doctors to save lives but there is a little part of us that enjoys the rush, right? Or did I just tell on myself?" She gave him an innocent look, knowing full well he might think she was partly crazy. She didn't mind. Everyone had their quirks. She was an adrenaline junkie who also refused to let a patient die before they had to.
She had wondered when their paths would cross again. Their opposite shifts could only last so long in a small hospital like this. And if she really wanted to press the issue she always could have showed up early to catch him on his way out the door. But of course she hadn't because she knew better. Few people wanted someone else snooping through their emotional baggage, especially when that person was a relative stranger to them. She would respect whatever boundaries he put up (for the most part) and if they ever found themselves in a similar situation, she would listen.
Still, when he finally looked at her she couldn't help but try to diagnose him. Was he getting enough sleep or did he have that haunted weary look about him? The infamous thousand yard stare. She couldn't quite tell and deep down she knew that frustrated her. It caused questions to bubble up and she had to stomp them back down in order to hold onto her internal promise not to meddle (too much, not to meddle too much).
"We both know it is a bit of column A and a bit of column B." She gave him a look, hoping he understood that she meant no harm. She just...worried. "You can't blame me for wondering how you've been. You were.." She wanted to say something that wouldn't make him feel like he was being judged. "...well, you were stressed that night. Totally natural reaction by the way, given what you told me." Not the entire story, she knew that, but enough that she got an idea. "Plus, I genuinely wanted to catch up with you. No ulterior motive what so ever." There was a shrug of her shoulders.
She then shook her head. "My shoulder has been dry ever sense. Mainly because I am not actually the best at the whole...listening thing. Not that I am careless but I usually get told that my bedside manner is not my strongest quality. I guess there are a few exceptions." She gave him a smile. "But seriously, I just wanted to be sure you are okay. You don't have to tell me details or anything."
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Jan 20, 2023 23:25:38 GMT
His record had been three days. A small town hospital like this one – even quieter without the added burden of the unusual cases - more time spent staring at the ambulance bay doors, waiting for them to open, than actually treating patients. The staff had seemed to get through it by talking. An incessant chatter that had just been background noise until it had suddenly turned towards him. There’d been no avenue of escape in a place so small everybody could hear you breathe. One nurse had pushed, a red head who’d couched it all as a warm welcome. A hot seat maybe, or an imitation of one of those high school science lessons. Deck had found himself the frog, leaping out of the water before he could boil.
By now Mystic Falls had been far longer than that. Years spent trying to build up his defences to the point where that itch to jump at the first question. It had driven him insane at first – to the point where the bottle had been his only way to numb it. That feeling like he was losing his mind never dulled for long. He’d been getting better, though. That had been the most galling bit of it. Before he’d stepped in to stop the vampire using one of the nurses as her access to the blood bank he’d been doing better. The nightmares had grown less frequent, his drinking cut back to being almost non-existent. He’d been steady.
Deck wished he could say the same now, but there was that faint twitch back in his muscles as he came face to face with the one person who’d seen how far he’d tumbled from that precarious hold on his life here. Most of that was shame, he knew, but understanding that didn’t exactly erase it as Meredith surreptitiously studied him. ”Hey,” he said, clucking his tongue. ”Don’t go outing me. I’m supposed to be a secret adrenaline junkie, even if you’re not hiding it.” It had been a given in the army – they were all cut from the same cloth – but it was another aspect of that other Deck, that he’d been keeping quiet since the hospital’s head honcho had called him on it. Deck smiled wryly, glancing back at the doors. ”Maybe you’re right though, some twisted part of me likes it.” And missed it.
The man Meredith had seen revealed in the break room hadn’t been the one who would’ve rushed through gunfire to offer aid. He was the one who would’ve fallen apart, shaking until the noise stopped. He hated how cowardly that man was, but finding your strength again felt like an uphill battle, one the army hadn’t fully prepared him for before he’d walked. Therapy wouldn’t do much now, even if it came from unexpected sources.
Meredith would undoubtedly see right through any attempt to hide that he needed it, so other than straightening up, Deck didn’t bother to do that. He grunted in response to her, not denying that she was right. Lips pinching, he tipped his head to the side, trying to push away the chagrin. You were a fool to turn away help when you knew you could do with it, even if there was an embarrassment factor to it. ”I was a state,” Deck corrected. He huffed out a breath, hanging his head until the heat started to fade in his cheeks. ”Natural or not, it’s not easy going through that with witnesses.” She’d understand that too, and it was probably why she’d not come after him from the start. Meredith was pushy on the job – in the right way – but there was a delicacy to her skills, not prodding too hard, or too fast.
Glancing at her again, Deck nodded tightly. He could call bullshit on the promise of no ulterior motive, but he didn’t get that stench of a lie rolling off of her. That much he could appreciate at least. His shoulders slumped slightly on it, muscles releasing a little of that tension. ”You could’ve fooled me.” Swallowing hard, he turned towards her. It broke something in him, let his own smile, faint in comparison to hers, break through. ”I’d say whoever told you that hadn’t been on the other end of it. You were just what I needed. I should thank you for that.” Had he at the time? His brows furrowed for a moment before he pushed it aside. He had now. ”Still not great, but better than I was. I guess it gets easier as it goes on?” It, as though that huge and scary world could be defined as an entity all of its own. Whatever it was Meredith seemed to have far more experience with it than he’d had in those times he’d dipped a toe in the icy waters of it.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Mar 14, 2023 23:15:02 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
"I am good at keeping secrets. Full of them. Right to the brim actually. So don't worry. I'm not telling." She added a wink on to the end of the statement, a hint of playfulness even though she knew they were circling around some pretty serious stuff. She was good at keeping her features even, a strength in the face of discovering something bad (because she never wanted to let the patient know before she knew for certain; she never wanted to give them the wrong idea). So while she could be standing there, smiling and joking just a little, her mind could be going over the problem.
Well, not a problem per say, just a worry.
She had thought about that break room incident more than a few times since it happened. She knew what it was, it was not hard to recognize. Panic could bring anyone to their knees just like that. You could be fine one more and lost the next. Few people could accurately recognize the warning signs either. But she bet he could. She bet he had them down to science. It wasn't just the doctor in him. No, she was willing to bet that his knowledge came from experience. She wondered just how long he had been going through this but knew that right now, she was not in a place to ask. She would go on as she was now, being both supportive and observant. She would listen as needed but she would also watch. If she thought that he was struggling while with a patient, she would step in. She wouldn't have a choice. She doubted that it would come to that. He was no doubt professional enough to step away the moment he thought he was spiraling. It was why he was in that break room after all, right? She just had happened to come along at the right moment (or wrong moment in his eyes).
She merely gave him a look when he called her out on her 'ulterior motive' statement. She would neither confirm or deny. She could do both at once --- genuinely want to ensure that he was okay while at the same time digging down another layer (if he would let her). "You don't have to thank me. I am glad I could help. And if you..." Here she went, probably stepping a toe too far over that line but she was going to push forward anyway. He should know that she could continue to help. If that was what he wanted. "...ever need that again, don't hesitate to call. Whether I am here or at home. Any time. I mean it." He could do with that information what he wished. Something told her that he was as stubborn as she was, and used to going at it alone. So if he did call on her, she was willing to bet that he would really need the help. It didn't matter the circumstance, she'd do what she could.
Meredith laughed a little at his conclusion. "I guess you could say that. Maybe. Maybe you just get used to it. Or learn how to ignore it." She was a teenager when the world abruptly changed for her and while it had been a traumatic introduction, she stood here now able to brush it off. Whether that was a good thing or not, she had no idea. Maybe she had her own coping mechanism that needed to be closely examined. "Or sometimes, it helps to know that there are others out there who understand everything. You're not alone, you have people you can talk to. Sounds cliché and all that but there is a reason why those ideas end up on motivational mugs, right?"
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Mar 19, 2023 20:30:38 GMT
Was it reassuring that so many were saving up their secrets with the good Dr Fell? It probably shouldn’t have been, but Deck was already slanting her a grin, bobbing his head like he was accepting the offer to keep talk of his risk taking side under wraps. It would’ve come as no surprise to anybody who’d known him before that adrenalin would leave him curled in the fetal position, shaking like a leaf that he was one of those people. He’d have claimed it came with the territory – being a soldier’s kid, enlisting himself, training to be a doctor in one of the specialisms that left you with emergencies on your hands multiple times a day – but he knew plenty of people under all three circumstances who would’ve preferred the peaceful life. Not him, not then or now.
Not Meredith.
The bigger part of him didn’t want to know exactly how she’d slipped into her awareness of what was out there. It had to be enough that she did know, that he hadn’t looked like some candidate for a padded cell to her. She could’ve pushed him out of the hospital that day, put in a word upstairs to have him cut off from the one thing that he was sure had been keeping him sane – ish – all this time.
Deck’s smile turned wry as she tried to shrug off the gratitude that’d felt almost rusty coming out of his throat. Good doctors didn’t bask in the thanks that came their way, but this wasn’t her pulling off some flashy surgery to save a life, it was being a decent, compassionate, understanding person in the moment. He huffed a breath out, like he was going to joke about when he needed a shoulder to cry on again, but the words dried up in his throat. ”I might just do that … I’ll try and keep my melt downs to business hours though. Last thing you want is me gibbering down the phone to you at 2am.” When the worst of it came rearing up out of his dreams. He bobbed his head, swallowing hard like he was pushing the point home in his own head. No matter how many times he told his patients not to suffer in silence, he couldn’t really drive that message home himself.
She might not’ve been howling with laughter, but what did come from her was a relief – like the sun easing out from behind those threatening clouds just long enough for you to know that the awful weather wasn’t gonna last forever. Deck huffed out something that was closer to real amusement than he’d managed about all of this so far. ”That’s not really all that comforting,” he told her honestly. It had been that way with grief though, hadn’t it? It hadn’t really gotten easier, the pain was still there if he dug far enough into his mind or heart, he’d just grown used to the weight of it.
Thinking of her, Deck crossed his arms over his chest, the smile melting away bit by bit as Meredith’s wisdom continued to hit heavy. He glanced at her eventually, cracking that door open another inch in his chest. ”My brother told me the same thing when my wife died. I wasn’t ready for a therapist then.” He still wasn’t now, although it was doubtful there were many who knew about that other side of things as well. The laughter felt no less rusty this time, it broke out, rolled away slowly. ”Don’t tell me you’re the sort who has a cupboard full of ‘em.” Drawing a deep breath in, Deck nodded again. ”It’s easier reading it on those things that actually living it. You know you’re the first person I’ve told here and losing my wife?” They’d probably guessed at the sight of the ring, but knowing there was a wife out there somewhere and actually discussing the loss of her were two very different things.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on May 6, 2023 19:25:46 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
She supposed that there was something supremely unfair about knowing a truth that many others would discount. Especially this truth. When she had first found out (complete with a traumatic experience that still haunted her to this day despite her increasing comfort level with it all), her first reaction had been to want to tell anyone. Everyone. She had practically gone running to the phone to call her best friend and spill all the gory details. It had been her mother that had stopped her, that talked some sense into her. There were very few people that would believe her, her mother had pointed out. Worst of all, if they did, how would Meredith fell if she knowingly put her friend in danger? That thought was enough to keep her lips sealed. Over the years she had found others and swapped stories. She had learned that most were like her --- finding out the truth by nearly being done in by it.
She wondered what the true extent of Deck's story was.
Of course, that was not something that she could just ask him. She had seen the extent of his pain. She would never value her curiosity over his comfort level. One day he might tell her the whole story instead of the pieces that she was currently holding onto. "If you did call me at 2 am you would probably find me awake," she told him with a shrug of her shoulders. "It should come to no surprise to you that I am horrible sleeper. Shift work has all but ruined me on proper sleep. I can either do it anywhere at any time or not at all. Currently running on a spate of anywhere any time days." Which meant she had almost fell asleep in her supper at the Mystic Grill the previous night. Who could blame her? The place had felt warm, with the din of voices and music lulling her towards dreamland. It was only her waitress that had saved her from making a complete fool of herself.
"I know. It's not really all the comforting when you really think of it. But at the same time, at least you know that there are others who get it. It might help at some point. If not, then forget I even said it. In fact, forget anything I say that is not of use to you." She was okay with that. She was okay with him cherry picking what made it easier for him to deal with everything that he was going through. "And about the mugs --- I do. I don't buy them though. They are all presents from patients. You will get your own collection if you stay here long enough. Small town perk. You will also get more bake goods than you should. I will happily help you eat them."
She sobered up a little at the mention of his wife. Then she was knitting her brows together. He was holding so much to his chest wasn't he? "Maybe it was time. Maybe you realized you couldn't just keep holding onto it. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Know that I may be a gossip but I am not that kind of gossip. Also know that I meant what I said --- I am sorry you lost her. It is clear how much you loved her and I can only imagine what kind of hole that loss left. Hopefully one day, it will heal enough --- I know better than to ever say fully. Just enough."
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on May 14, 2023 19:35:10 GMT
Sunset seemed to be the trigger for the worst of it all, especially when the shadows would seem to creep out from the trees themselves to wrap around the cabin. Pouring in the windows, pooling in the corners, the spectres that continued to haunt his life appearing at the edges of his vision. In the brightly lit sterile confines of the hospital they’d been held at bay, the only thing sending shivers down his spine here the vampire. Just as Soph was confined to the cabin, the memory of the vampire was wrapped around the antiseptic scented hallways of the hospital that had been his bolt hole away from all he’d been hiding from before.
Deck hadn’t imagined that Meredith would be half as enthusiastic about helping if her phone started to shriek in the middle of the night, his panicked voice whispering down the line as he’d sat in his living room, head beneath his knees, trying to avoid seeing what his conscience convinced him was still there over his shoulder. Maybe he’d been wrong. Amusement plucked at the corner of his mouth for a moment before he huffed out a breath. ”You might regret that offer,” he said, only half serious. ”I shouldn’t be promoting poor lifestyle decisions, or helping your habits slide further. Not that I’m any better. Combat naps.” The humour that had tugged at his mouth only a moment before turned wry. Sleep where you could, anticipate waking from it at any moment. Exam rooms, the hard plastic chairs in the break room, his porch in the damn middle of the night if he needed some space, even if he woke half frozen, startled out of tangled dreams by some noise out in the woods.
He lifted a hand, scratched at his beard as though he could shed flakes of that armour he’d wrapped around himself, holding it all in as much as he was trying to protect himself from what was out there. Was that what it was like for people in AA? The first step was admitting that you had a problem, the second was trusting that all those sets of eyes that looked back at you when you said it were filled with understanding and not condemnation. He had one set of eyes doing that now, dark, filled with compassion, meeting his as he nodded to Meredith. ”I don’t think you’re that easy to rip out of my head,” he said dryly. Most doctors didn’t take medical advice too well, but this was something more than that and maybe he was finally ready to start peeling away more of that armour to let what still pooled dark and noxious beneath the scar tissue he hid lance out.
Maybe a week from now he’d be setting a mug down in front of Meredith, gratitude spelled out with some motivational saying or a cowboy hat wearing kitten. Deck hummed, bobbing his head. ”I could probably do with a mug or two, I wouldn’t argue with some pie either. It’s not like I’m out in the woods baking for myself.” Not the way Soph would’ve done, a welcome home that was wrapped in the smell of fresh baked apple pie. Thoughts of her still tore at him, the good always overlaid with the bad of that final night.
His gaze ticked up, meeting Meredith’s eyes again for a moment before they dropped away again. There was usually sympathy there when people realised he’d been married, the sort he hadn’t been able to deal with immediately after Soph had died. ”You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” he told her, his voice low, rough at the edges. ”Don’t worry, I didn’t picture you hopping up on the desk to spread the news. I know you’ll hold onto it.” Meredith was already holding onto enough secrets, wasn’t she? One more wouldn’t hurt. ”Thanks. I did, still do, but I know I can’t hold onto it, like one day I’ll blink and it’ll all be back again.” Soph was dead and although the thought of moving on from the grief that had smothered him like a blanket for so long left him feeling sick, he knew she wouldn’t want him grieving as he had done forever. ”You’ve lost people too?” That probably wasn’t his business, but Deck shifted his weight, meeting Meredith’s eye with that silent assurance that this sharing thing wasn’t only running one way.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Jul 4, 2023 23:10:34 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
Meredith could only imagine the kinds of demons that hung around inside of his head. Because there was always more than one, and given his past, they were expected. He had come by them honestly and they would be hard to shake. Despite not knowing the true extent, she knew that there were no magic words she could say nor easy solutions that she could put forward. Time --- all things like this took time. Unfortunately not everyone was gifted with that. She could only hope that he was one of the lucky ones. She was growing attached to him and that was not something she did lightly. Not in Mystic Falls when people could be there one day and gone the next.
(an animal, there was always an animal)
"I have many regrets in my life. What's one more?" she asked with a slight smile before rolling her shoulders into a shrug. She could pinpoint so many times in her life where she wished she had gone left instead of right but that didn't stop her from throwing herself into another crossroads and hoping for the best. "I am not going to sleep either way. I may as well do something useful with my time because up until now it has been crossword puzzles. I am suddenly more wordy when I can't see straight. Go figure." She had dozens of books stashed here and there, each with their own pencil just in case she wandered into that space and felt the need to work her brain. "Besides, I would rather help than allow you to go through the alternative. So please, take what I say to heart, Deck." It was an urging but in the end, it was up to him. She couldn't do anymore than offer and she knew better than to push too hard. Most people went in the opposite direction when pushed.
She waited a beat or two before pushing ahead. "Tell you what, next time Mrs. Maggione comes in I will send her to you. It's never really anything that serious. She is just alone in that big house of hers. But I guarantee you if you give her your smile, she'll bake you a pie. Apple is her specialty and it has been passed down for nearly a century. Or so she tells me. They are so worth it." She gave an appreciative look at the memory of tasting the buttery crust and hot cinnamon apple insides. "A little bit of ice cream and you will be transformed." She knew what she was talking about here.
Just like he knew that the realities of dealing with what he was dealing with. He was right. He couldn't predict moments like she had witnessed. At least not with any degree of certainty. "You might blink but hopefully with each time, it doesn't seem so...crushing. Again, I can't tell you it will be easy or it will ever go away. I don't know that." Her features were passive now and she gave a nod to his question. "My family has a history of dying young. Almost like it is a Fell trait. I am working on avoiding that."
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Jul 24, 2023 19:20:36 GMT
”Oh, I feel that,” Deck said wearily. There was still a hint of a smile in his mouth, but the rest of his expression remained flat. There were times when those regrets hung heavy enough around his neck to strangle him. The world wasn’t made for being able to flit back in time to change what had happened though – and he was convinced that there was no supernatural way of making it happen either. He’d have given anything, including his own life, to have his mom or Soph standing right here, but no amount of pleas had changed what had happened. He looked down at his hands, folding his fingers together like they might hide the memories of the way Soph’s blood had pulsed sluggishly against them, or the cold feeling of his mom’s skin against them when he’s finally reached the front seat of the truck.
The memories laid thick over his skin, running deeper than the scars if he looked too closely at them. In the dark it was hard to avoid seeing, even if he tried to pour that unwanted energy into something else. Whether it was from those same scars or not, it seemed as though Meredith was just as much a night owl as he was. Deck huffed out a laugh, a brow winging at her. ”Anybody capable of doing a crossword at all’s impressive, you doing them in the middle of the night’s making me feel unworthy.” He would’ve flapped his arms in that universal symbol of worship. Dark eyes fixed on her for a moment, studying the ones just as dark as his own before he nodded. ”I’m taking it,” he promised, raising a hand to tap it against his chest. ”And it’s appreciated … honestly.” Lucas would’ve been pissed if he’d thought his big brother couldn’t reach out if he needed to, but there were things he wasn’t’ going to darken his brother’s life with.
Meredith’s watching out for him seemed to know no bounds. One joking gripe about not having treats and she was stepping in. His eyes narrowed as she started to make her offer. Bartering well meaning patients now? His grin steadied, grew as he pretended to consider it. ”Alone you say? Now that seems like someone who would’ve been snatched right up by someone.” Real remarriage material – if you were ready for that sort of thing. ”Sounds like you’re speaking from experience where she’s concerned. You ever need a slice of pie and some fixing up?” Obviously she had done, maybe in lieu of someone just like her, offering an ear, a shoulder for her to lean on. It wasn’t Mrs. Maggione he shot that smile at now though, Meredith got the full weight of it, appreciation in the warmth of it.
This was a burden that had threatened to crush him alone – the weight of it shifting with every move he’d made. Deck shrugged his shoulders faintly now, feeling them press against the stiff cotton of his scrub shirt. There were other hands supporting it now, fingers curled around the nightmare of it, taking some of that weight. ”But it will be easier.” Deck murmured roughly. ”Time changes things, even if it doesn’t erase them.” And he’d already felt that here, hadn’t he? He drew in a deep breath through his nose, understanding filling his expression. ”Just bad health?” he asked, his voice growing tight. He angled towards Meredith, his brows furrowing. ”That was nosy, sorry.” Invasive in a way he’d have hated if it was turned around on him.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Nov 12, 2023 19:03:58 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
She knew there was little that she could say or do that would change what happened to him in the past but she hoped that she could help him with the future. It was easy for people to say it would fade with time but time was not linear. It was much more complicated than that. It looped around, brought things back to the surface just as you thought you had it under control. So, if (when) those moments came she hoped that she could help.
And she was glad to see that he was going to take it all to heart.
Meredith smiled, a genuine one filled with warmth instead of the easy going one that she put on almost as a piece of armor. "It's nothing. I would do it for a friend --- and I guess at this point, it's safe to say we are friends, right?" There was a hint of her humor flooding back in. She might not know the full extent as to why he had picked Mystic Falls for his landing place but she was grateful that he had. It was nice to have someone she could talk to on staff that wasn't just about the case on hand or just a nod of recognition in the halls. Despite this place being full of people, it could feel lonely sometimes.
He would get that too.
She laughed a little. "I think that Mrs. Maggione believes she has done her time in the trenches. Or so she says. I know that she just misses her husband." Another thing that Deck would be able to understand if the two ever did come face to face. She didn't want to point that out of course. It was an obvious comparison and she didn't want to be picking at anyone's wounds. She found herself on the receiving end of a smile that she could not help but return. "Of course I have. Be silly to pretend otherwise." She was good at pretending that she was strong and didn't need anyone but it was a front. Something he of all people would understand perfectly.
Despite her own feelings on time, she nodded her head. There was no denying that despite its ability to dump pain back in your lap after you thought you had dealt with it, she was not denying its ability to distance you from the immediate hurt that came with the kind of loss he suffered.
She watched as he pulled in his suspicions. "It's okay. I am the queen of nosy so I don't mind. And no, not just bad health. The Fells...well, they know how to cross the wrong kind of people sometimes, if you get what I mean." She might not have lost someone as intimately involved as a lover but she knew what vampires were capable of.
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Nov 28, 2023 20:27:19 GMT
Friend. Just five years ago the word would have had him itchy enough to be running straight at the town limits. Friends wanted to check on you, to make sure you were alright. They wanted to know things about you and everything that had troubled him then were the things he hadn’t been able to say a word about. A wolf tearing them to pieces, a body lying in a cave, the gunshot wound he’d caused punched in a woman’s chest. Things he couldn’t have verbalised even if he’d tried. It had pissed off his brother that he hadn’t opened up, choosing to run instead.
Deck’s ghost of a laugh became a genuine smile, one that reflected back the warmth that was in Meredith’s. Lucas would’ve choked if he’d told him he’d just needed a town like this one – people who got what was going on with him, people who wouldn’t take no for an answer, even the things that continued to haunt him as though exposure would be enough to cure his fear. ”Right,” he drawled lightly. ”My friends are the only ones I drag out of bed in the middle of the night.” Amusement wrapped his voice, hiding the steel and the faint trace of worry beneath. Maybe at some point he would call her. Drink somewhere, ashamed of it, but needing to reach out a hand to someone who got it.
He curled his fingers into his palm, remembering the way he’d been that guy for younger soldiers in the camp, literally holding on when they came in on a gurney, kids reaching out for the one person they knew they could rely on. Deck looked up from his hand, one corner of his mouth kicking up just a little higher. ”I feel that,” he admitted. Sometimes you never got over the one, especially when they’d been torn away from you. People told you to get back on the horse, but what if you’d lost the ability to ride when life had thrown you clean off of it? ”Who knows,” Deck murmured after a moment. "Maybe some handsome bachelor’ll come along and sweep her off her feet when she least expects it. Sometimes silly’s my middle name.” Which explained why he’d stumbled along for so long, clutching his knowledge to his chest like letting anybody see it would reveal the vulnerability of the wounds carved clear through to his soul.
People here weren’t blind. They’d seen them all the same, and most, especially here at the hospital, had done their best to at least make sure he wasn’t going to emotionally bleed out from them. The Hippocratic oath did a lot of heavy lifting for them all. Deck tipped his head to the side, studying Meredith before he nodded. ”Kinda glad to hear it. I’m not exactly good at letting go of things once I’ve had a nibble at them.” Even when it would’ve been good for him. He swallowed convulsively as it went from what he thought might be a little excessive drinking, maybe a car wreck or two thanks to a little too much speed on these roads. ”That’s how you knew about it all? I’m sorry for your losses. I know it doesn’t take much to put a target on your own back.” If you did anything at all. He still didn’t know what they’d done that night to have that thing coming at them, if there was anything he could’ve done to prevent it. That not knowing was part of what continued to tear at him.
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Post by MEREDITH FELL on Jan 16, 2024 0:18:23 GMT
HOLDING ON (WITH GREG DECKER)
He might try to brush her off and she would let him. Or more accurately, let him think that he did. Because Meredith was not only nosy but she was determined too. She knew someone who needed a friend when she saw him and he needed a friend. Good thing for him, she probably needed a friend too. Many of her relationships were surface level or cemented by blood. She needed people like Deck in her life so she was going to keep trying. He would soon get that she was stubborn.
Lucky for him.
Thankfully, he didn't run away. His words caused her to smile. "So it's settled. We're friends. The kind that you wake up in the middle of the night for. But let's be honest, we're probably both awake in the middle of the night anyway. For one reason or another." Shift work had left her sleep pattern a chaotic mess. Not to mention the dreams --- the kind that had her sitting up in bed, heart beating against her rib cage as her eyes searched the dark for the monster. They were never there. So far. In this town, you never did know. "You know, I am glad that we got it all squared away neatly at this point because I was preparing a three pronged attack. You would have never won in the end." It was clear that she was joking. Mostly.
Meredith looked over at him when he spoke of understanding Mrs. Maggione's position. Her face was one of compassion. She couldn't say she understood because she had never had that kind of pain in her life she was willing to bet like Mrs. Maggione, people had tried to gently steer him back towards that kind of thing. They weren't doing it out of anything but caring but in the end, if he ever did try again it would totally be on his own terms. "I would love to see it actually. Mostly because I think it would take a very special kind of handsome bachelor to win her over. So while he is making his way here, she would be rejecting everyone else left and right. She might look small but she's feisty. My kind of girl." She was curious of course as to whether or not he would want to be swept off his feet. But she didn't ask --- she knew the line and she would stay safely on her side.
After all, they just confirmed they were friends. Too early to rock that boat.
She took his sympathy with a small nod of her head. "There is a lot of history in this town, Deck. A lot of it isn't that great --- and the Fells have been here since the beginning. That is more than enough time to get tangled up in the realities of Mystic Falls. It's almost...a birthright now. I found out the hard way..." A hand came up to rest on her neck where she swore she could still feel the teeth marks that marred her skin as a teenager. "That might make some want to go the other way but I guess I just feel like I want to help."
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GREG DECKER
Human
Posts: 198
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:05:04 GMT
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Post by GREG DECKER on Feb 9, 2024 20:01:35 GMT
”Are we gonna pinky swear on it?” Deck asked lightly. He joked about it, but it had been long enough since he’d had a friendship of the sort that it felt like it might as well have happened in grade school. Anybody close to him that wasn’t related by blood or marriage had drifted away in those first few months after Soph’s death. The friends they’d had, the people in his unit, even his commanding officers, none of them had known had to deal with what he’d gone through. Rather than fight their way past the shields he was desperately trying to throw up, they’d all done just as he’d asked and had left him the hell alone. Had he paid for that loneliness he’d practically begged for? Maybe he hadn’t noticed it so much at the time, but after he’d put down roots here he’d realised just how sparse his life was.
He bumped his arm lightly against Meredith’s, the smile going from half to full at the sight of hers. ”Friends,”{/b] he agreed. Something small in his chest felt like it gave way at the word, like a link in the chain that had tightened around his chest and left him breathless for so long had snapped. His chuckle was almost weary when it came – did everything have to be a battle with him? It shouldn’t have been, but you didn’t know how hard you were fighting until it was done. ”What were your plans? Blackmail? A headlock? I’m tougher than I look you know.” Amusement wreathed his words. Honestly, though, it probably wouldn’t have taken much more to break through the walls he’d surrounded himself with these days. They were crumbling all on their own. Deck met Meredith’s eye as she looked at him. Usually his gaze would’ve skittered away at such obvious compassion, but with Meredith it was easier to take. He nodded slowly, agreeing with her. People didn’t get those second chances often enough. They drifted through to the end of their lives still too weighed down with grief to allow themselves anything more. ”I’ve got a little hero worship for her as well,” he said lightly, only half joking. ”Sometimes having no one at all’s better than settling for the wrong one. You’ve gotta wait, maybe you get lucky again.” And maybe it would never be. The important part was being open to it and far too long, he hadn’t been.
Imagining that was the same with other things, Deck realised he had to stop letting his fear hold him back from everything. He couldn’t sit there, quivering, waiting for something to arrive and claw at him again. Maybe he’d spent most of his time in a med tent, but he’d been a soldier for Christ’s sake. Meredith hadn’t been trained the same way. She was a doctor through and through, but she was standing on a line between the two worlds that seemed to exist here, prepared to do her best. ”Is it one you wanted to take on?” he asked tightly as she explained. ”If you’d known it all from the start would you have run from it?” Would he if he’d known what would happen in the future? Back away from a woman he’d loved with all of his heart to save her a painful death. No. Even if he had there was no guarantee that something just as bad wouldn’t have come along to take Soph’s life so young.
”You’re braver than I am,” Deck admitted, his gaze settling on the back of her neck as she settled her hand there. What memories wrapped around that spot? He resisted the urge to settle one of his own over those scars that cut across his gut. ”You think you … uh … fill me in on some of that history some time? Let me be a little more prepared.” Or at least not so blind that he was filled with relentless terror whenever the blindfold he’d been wearing was torn away. ”I’ll even cook dinner as payment for it.” It was probably better not to go discussing those things out in the open in this town, you never knew who was listening after all.
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