Shannon Beiste (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
usskickass) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2014-10-25 01:22 am
usskickass) wrote in entrancelogs2014-10-25 01:22 am
Entry tags:
God only knows what I'd be without you
Who: Shannon Beiste Dorothy "Dot" Lyon & OPEN
Where: Around town
When: 10/24-10/28
Rating: Probably nothing too racy. TW for mentions of domestic abuse.
Summary: If you should ever leave me / Though life would still go on believe me / The world could show nothing to me
The Story:
10/24: The Hospital
She's there the instant they call. He was unconscious in the forest? What was he even doing there? At least they found him. She listens patiently to everything they can tell her, which is a whole lot of nothing, honestly, but she's so exhausted already that all she does is thank them, her voice breathless.
Dot hardly leaves his side. He sleeps for way too long, she thinks, way way too long for someone without a concussion. But maybe he hasn't slept since they've been apart either. Maybe he's just as tired. She can't know. She stays by his side, never leaving but to use the bathroom. If it weren't for kind doctors and nurses bringing her coffee and food, both of which she forces down more for his good than her own, she'd do nothing but sit and watch him.
When he wakes up, the doctors ask her to leave as they perform some tests. Apparently her presence might be a problem, given the fact that he'd run away. She sits in the waiting room, wounded. How could anyone think she'd do anything to make her son want to leave? Weren't these the same people who bandaged her up, who set her bones? They know what Bobby's father did to her. They know she'd never.
10/25: The Hospital & around town
Any suspicion the doctors had seems to be gone, now, or at least lessened considerably. They tell her that she'll be able to take him home tomorrow. That school will be too much, but being home might trigger something. She nods, numb.
He doesn't remember her. He doesn't remember anything, but her. His mother. Her Bobby suddenly isn't hers anymore.
And sure, he's getting older. Just about to graduate high school and go off to college. But she was never going to lose him. Not really. He was always going to be her baby. He was always supposed to call her on her birthday, to send her flowers on Mother's Day. But now. Now he might as well be a stranger. She might as well be a stranger.
Knowing she's going to be spending the next few-- well, who knows? years? --living with the knowledge that Bobby doesn't know who she is, she spends much of the day in the waiting room. They have tests to try anyway, and it's probably not a good idea to overwhelm him, right?
At one point, she even takes a walk to clear her head. It doesn't help much, but the cold feels good. Feels right.
10/26: Home
She lets him have free reign of the house, hoping that something might stick. But it doesn't seem to be helping, and that. That feels like a clincher. This is their home, this is all Bobby's ever known, and it's like he's never crossed the threshold until this morning. Sleep-deprived and heartbroken, if it weren't for Bobby she'd hardly keep it together.
Well-wishers are few and far between, but she accepts them all the same. She re-introduces Bobby to folks he's known for years, some for his entire life, but nothing changes. As soon as he glances to her, she knows, and she makes excuses, claims he's a little banged up from whatever happened in the forest and can't stay downstairs for long. Once he's retreated to his room, she muddles through pleasantries with her guests as best as she can.
She wonders how much this hurts Bobby too.
10/27: Home, the library, the local record/music store
Dot gives him two hours-- two careful, phone-monitored hours. She's glad he at least remembers how to use a cell phone. There's something to be thankful for, right?
At first she stays put, trying to focus on the housework she let pile up while Bobby was missing. But it's hard to stay focused. A tune comes into her head, then another. She hums as she works until it's driving her bonkers. Where is this music even coming from? West Side Story? That pop song about needing someone, God, she hasn't listened to the radio in years. How'd she even hear that one?
Distracted, she gives up on housework and ventures out on the town herself. She tries the library first, shyly asking how to look up song lyrics on the computer. Once she's armed with a list of song titles, she heads to the record store, intent on listening to these songs until they leave her head. Because she can't afford to focus on anything but Bobby, right?
At least the songs clouding her brain are pretty good.
10/28: All around town
The note is a relief. The note tells her she didn't spend the past twelve hours fighting with two sets of memories alone, although James' apparently got a slightly different deal this time 'round. She's almost positive-- almost --that her name is Shannon Beiste, and that this event is worse than a milk jug left on the back porch. All she needs to do to really confirm it is talk to some folks who didn't go and lose their memory in Storybrooke too.
She goes to all the major landmarks, looking for folks that Shannon Beiste considers her friends, her family, even just the ones she knows would be quick to talk if they're going through what she is.
Later, she and James need to have a talk about him forgetting her in all these events. That's a pattern that ain't cool, Wonderland.
Where: Around town
When: 10/24-10/28
Rating: Probably nothing too racy. TW for mentions of domestic abuse.
Summary: If you should ever leave me / Though life would still go on believe me / The world could show nothing to me
The Story:
10/24: The Hospital
She's there the instant they call. He was unconscious in the forest? What was he even doing there? At least they found him. She listens patiently to everything they can tell her, which is a whole lot of nothing, honestly, but she's so exhausted already that all she does is thank them, her voice breathless.
Dot hardly leaves his side. He sleeps for way too long, she thinks, way way too long for someone without a concussion. But maybe he hasn't slept since they've been apart either. Maybe he's just as tired. She can't know. She stays by his side, never leaving but to use the bathroom. If it weren't for kind doctors and nurses bringing her coffee and food, both of which she forces down more for his good than her own, she'd do nothing but sit and watch him.
When he wakes up, the doctors ask her to leave as they perform some tests. Apparently her presence might be a problem, given the fact that he'd run away. She sits in the waiting room, wounded. How could anyone think she'd do anything to make her son want to leave? Weren't these the same people who bandaged her up, who set her bones? They know what Bobby's father did to her. They know she'd never.
10/25: The Hospital & around town
Any suspicion the doctors had seems to be gone, now, or at least lessened considerably. They tell her that she'll be able to take him home tomorrow. That school will be too much, but being home might trigger something. She nods, numb.
He doesn't remember her. He doesn't remember anything, but her. His mother. Her Bobby suddenly isn't hers anymore.
And sure, he's getting older. Just about to graduate high school and go off to college. But she was never going to lose him. Not really. He was always going to be her baby. He was always supposed to call her on her birthday, to send her flowers on Mother's Day. But now. Now he might as well be a stranger. She might as well be a stranger.
Knowing she's going to be spending the next few-- well, who knows? years? --living with the knowledge that Bobby doesn't know who she is, she spends much of the day in the waiting room. They have tests to try anyway, and it's probably not a good idea to overwhelm him, right?
At one point, she even takes a walk to clear her head. It doesn't help much, but the cold feels good. Feels right.
10/26: Home
She lets him have free reign of the house, hoping that something might stick. But it doesn't seem to be helping, and that. That feels like a clincher. This is their home, this is all Bobby's ever known, and it's like he's never crossed the threshold until this morning. Sleep-deprived and heartbroken, if it weren't for Bobby she'd hardly keep it together.
Well-wishers are few and far between, but she accepts them all the same. She re-introduces Bobby to folks he's known for years, some for his entire life, but nothing changes. As soon as he glances to her, she knows, and she makes excuses, claims he's a little banged up from whatever happened in the forest and can't stay downstairs for long. Once he's retreated to his room, she muddles through pleasantries with her guests as best as she can.
She wonders how much this hurts Bobby too.
10/27: Home, the library, the local record/music store
Dot gives him two hours-- two careful, phone-monitored hours. She's glad he at least remembers how to use a cell phone. There's something to be thankful for, right?
At first she stays put, trying to focus on the housework she let pile up while Bobby was missing. But it's hard to stay focused. A tune comes into her head, then another. She hums as she works until it's driving her bonkers. Where is this music even coming from? West Side Story? That pop song about needing someone, God, she hasn't listened to the radio in years. How'd she even hear that one?
Distracted, she gives up on housework and ventures out on the town herself. She tries the library first, shyly asking how to look up song lyrics on the computer. Once she's armed with a list of song titles, she heads to the record store, intent on listening to these songs until they leave her head. Because she can't afford to focus on anything but Bobby, right?
At least the songs clouding her brain are pretty good.
10/28: All around town
The note is a relief. The note tells her she didn't spend the past twelve hours fighting with two sets of memories alone, although James' apparently got a slightly different deal this time 'round. She's almost positive-- almost --that her name is Shannon Beiste, and that this event is worse than a milk jug left on the back porch. All she needs to do to really confirm it is talk to some folks who didn't go and lose their memory in Storybrooke too.
She goes to all the major landmarks, looking for folks that Shannon Beiste considers her friends, her family, even just the ones she knows would be quick to talk if they're going through what she is.
Later, she and James need to have a talk about him forgetting her in all these events. That's a pattern that ain't cool, Wonderland.