skipperlandvik - Tumblr blog

[skipperlandvik]

She'd never felt so in over her head. Not during her service, not when she re-enlisted for the millionth time, not even when she found out she was pregnant with her son. This was... different. The emotions that flooded her body, covering her bones, and filling her chest were part of something she'd never felt before, something she'd never admit to have felt before. This part of her, the part that she willingly showed with Jessie all those years ago, was something she held so very close to her and the thought of opening that part back up again after all of the time that had past was so incredibly close to terrifying, the touch of the other's hand on her arm did little to reassure her otherwise, but she gave a nod anyway and followed them back onto the deck behind her home. "Coffee feels like such a formality, honestly," Skipper admitted as she halted near the railing, her palm settling onto the wood worn by the salted air of the ocean. "Like we didn't spend an entire year seeing each other naked every night."

@jessica-nichols

There was a flicker of a smile across Jessica's features when Rowan asked again if it was the coffee, clearly worried she'd done something wrong. "It wasn't." The redhead promised, tucking their t-shirt back into their worn jeans. Because while Jess had had a shot first thing that morning, she usually still had to have a second one a while after they'd eaten breakfast. It had nothing to do with Rowan. Honestly, if Jessica had gotten themselves coffee, it probably would have been something with all the naughty extras, because they'd known a shot was coming either way. But the redhead appreciated the thought that Rowan had put in.

A shake of their head when the other asked if they wanted to leave. "We didn't even finish coffee yet." Jessie counters, motioning to the deck. "Come on," Moving to where Rowan was standing in the door, Jessie briefly touching her arm to assure her that things were okay, stepping past to where they'd been sitting a few moments ago. Not that Jessica was exactly sure where the conversation would go next, but leaving now just didn't feel right.

[skipperlandvik]

A sigh of relief fell from her lips when the other assured her that they were alright. There was little doubt in her mind that Jessie was anything but okay, but hearing them say it was the reassurance she didn't realize she even needed. "That's... that's good. I'm... you're sure it wasn't the coffee?" Skipper doubted that the reason for the spike was the black coffee she served, she was so careful about the details of it right down to the beans she'd chosen at the grocery store earlier in the week after she extended the offer of meeting at her place in the early morning hours. The details she hadn't thought about, however, were the ones about how the meeting would actually go once they were both thrown into it. She said her part... now what?

Everything was a lot about this moment, but the blonde wasn't sure if it was what she said or the chance she took on moving closer to the other or something that she hadn't even taken notice to yet. She wasn't sure what to say, how to respond to Jessie's admission, and wondered if it would have just been better to have this meeting somewhere public, so she could have left when things became a lot, sparing the other from needing to sift through it. "Do you... want to leave? I mean, you can go, if you want to. I won't be offended. I just... wanted to give you the explanation you deserved a decade ago. Everything else... we don't have to go through the motions if you don't want to."

@jessica-nichols

This was the very reason the small backpack went everywhere with Jessica, no matter the outing. Because it didn't matter what Jessie was doing, whether it be seeing a movie or an emotional conversation with an ex... diabetes would make an appearance eventually. "I'm sorry." She murmured again, flashing the blonde an apologetic frown as an alcohol wipe was swept against the tip of their finger, before lancing it and procuring the drop of blood for the manual test. There had been a time when Rowan would be right beside them, quickly collecting the used items for the trash, taking the glucose meter to do the calculations for Jessie if they needed insulin. But now Rowan hovered by the door while Jessie grabbed the auto-injector, setting up a dose before tugging up the corner of her shirt to expose their stomach, doing the shot quickly, before putting everything away. "Yeah, yeah I'm alright." Jessica nodded, chewing the inside of their cheek. As much as the interruption hadn't been welcome, maybe it had given the redhead a few moments to reel in their emotions, Jess feeling slightly more gathered when she slipped the test kit back into the bag.

Could it be true? That she herself hadn't driven Rowan away ten years ago? That there wasn't something secretly wrong with them that was just waiting like a ticking time bomb to ruin any future relationship? A deep, steadying breath, letting that realization roll over them. "I'm sorry... this is just... It's a lot." Brown eyes found Rowan by the door, shifting on their feet.

[skipperlandvik]

As soon as the redhead stood, Skipper wasn't too far behind, a concerned wrinkle in her forehead as she listened to Jessie mention a finger prick. Maybe there was a lot that changed with both of them, but it was clear this was something that hadn't — along with her concern for the other, despite the other having everything under control already. She could never help stepping in to assist whenever they were together, worried about rising numbers and keeping the best schedule that would suit Jessie. One of the things that had changed, though, was that she wasn't a part of it anymore, her assistance wasn't needed or wanted and so, Skipper lingered behind as the other went back inside to get the backpack she brought with her. Her arms crossed and uncrossed, her foot toed the mat just by the open sliding door as she watched Jessie do what she needed to do. "Everything okay?"

@jessica-nichols

Jessica wasn't exactly sure what Rowan's comment about them being twenty-two meant. That they'd been too young to be serious? It certainly hadn't felt that way to the redhead. Because there had been times when they'd sat and watched the sunrise together and Jess had imagined a life together. They'd certainly been in love with Rowan then. And probably still was now, to some extent. And while Jessie hadn't yet revealed the mess that she'd become after the blonde disappeared, all the things that Rowan thought she was leaving Jessie to enjoy had all fallen apart after she'd left anyways: the redhead had pulled away from their friends, even packed up and left the state soon after. Then had spent the last ten years moving around and avoiding serious relationships. Was that somehow better than what Rowan was describing? Honestly, who knew.

Having Rowan touch her again, after so many years was dangerously tempting, Jessie knowing it would probably be all too easy to get lost in that feeling. So maybe the alert from their phone was a well timed distraction, giving them both a little space to breathe. Because Jess certainly struggled with that when Rowan was so close.

Pulling the phone out of their pocket, brow furrowed at seeing the rising number, offering the blonde a small smile when she said she'd checked the coffee. "Thank you. It's probably my breakfast kicking in. I need to do a finger prick." Because as helpful as the Dexcom was, it wasn't always accurate. Standing, the redhead paused for a moment, so that Rowan knew they weren't bolting, weren't pulling away from this conversation, before moving to grab the small backpack that accompanied them everywhere. Removing the zipper pouch that held the all the diabetic essentials, Jessie moved to open it at the table, quickly going through the motions.

[skipperlandvik]

"We were twenty-two," Skipper mumbled as she shook her head at the other's insistence that they would've come with her if they'd talked about it, if she'd asked her to. She would have never done that, even if it was something that had come to mind in the moments leading up to her leaving. Truthfully, it was never even a consideration. Jessie loved her job, they had a life and friends and it all would have been too much to give up for someone who couldn't even bring herself to hold the other's hand in public. And honestly, there wasn't anywhere to even come with too. Skipper did everything she could to make sure she was deployed to the most active, miserable place where she could think about anything but what she'd left behind, a place where people didn't bring their families with, not like the base she was born on in Okinawa. "You had your whole life to live, I wasn't going to make you into one of those partners who spends all day waiting for that phone call."

By that phone call, she hadn't meant a phone call from her, but more specifically, the phone call she'd watched many families on the bases she grew up in get when their soldier officially wasn't coming home. It wouldn't have even come from the military, considering they hadn't been married. No, there were slim chances that Jessie would have even known if she wasn't making it back. The last thing she wanted was for the other to have to live with that, not when they were both so young. She was about to confirm, again, that it hadn't been Jessie that had caused her to leave, but the alert startled both of them and before she knew it, the redhead was pulling away and swiping at the tears that Skipper ached to wipe away instead. "Of course," the blonde finally nodded, taking a breath as she put some distance between them. "The coffee was black, just milk, no sugar. I, um, made sure there were no flavorings either. Just in case."

@jessica-nichols

Rowan said it with such conviction, that Rowan almost allowed themselves to believe it. But ten years of self-doubt was hard to wash away in just one conversation. The fact that the blonde met their gaze when she said it though, that helped; being able to see the honesty in those blue eyes that Jessie had spent so much time getting lost in... They had to swallow again then, feeling their lower lip trembling and catching it between their teeth. Jess didn't want their emotions taking over, influencing this in any way. However, when Rowan moved closer and took the mug from her and setting it down, those hands then coming up to cup at her cheeks, the tears welled in the corners of Jessica's eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I would have come with you, you know." They whispered, blinking back the tears. "If you'd asked. If you'd talked to me." It was all coming back: the thoughts of the life they could have had together. The moments that could have been shared, the milestones that had been missed. Jess had never really let themselves consider it, always assuming that she would have fucked it up somewhere else along the line. It's why the redhead hadn't dared let anyone else in since Rowan, that fear that they themselves were the reason for Rowan's sudden departure, and the daunting fear hanging over her that it would happen again with whoever they let themselves care about. Because Jessie had been in love with the other woman. Had once upon a time let themselves imagine that life together, before it had all been ripped away.

"It--- it wasn't me?" They asked, the vulnerability evident in every ounce of Jessica's features. Though Rowan wouldn't get the chance to answer, the loud alert from Jessie's phone in their pocket announcing that their Dexcom had registered a fluctuation outside of the norm. Jessie took that moment to pull away, raising a hand to wipe away any stray tears. "Sorry, sorry." Head shook slightly, trying to steady themselves. "I need to check that..."

[skipperlandvik]

They were good. As good as they could've been when Skipper refused to acknowledge that there even was a them in public and as much as she knew the moment would've come when she had to, her leaving ironically had nothing to do with her fear of coming out or that she thought they were anything but good. Every moment with Jessie felt good, it lit her up in a way that felt like the first time the sun peaked over the horizon in the morning, the first house you pass in the winter that has Christmas lights strung from their roof, like the taste of coffee in the morning when you so desperately need it. It wasn't about them. It was about her. Leaving Jessie... leaving August, it was never about the people she left behind, the casualties of her own war raging inside of her. No, it was so much more than them.

"It had nothing to do with you," Skipper repeated firmly, her gaze lifting to the other. She set her mug down and wiped her palms against her thighs, gripping her knees as she tried to find the words to explain why she left, the words she had left out of the letter she left behind. "You were just... part of it. A life that I didn't feel like I fit into. Going to school every day, living in an apartment, dating and having friends... inside, it felt like my brain was screaming at me that I didn't belong, that I wasn't doing good enough. You were better than the army, so much better... it was me who wasn't." Her lips pressed together firmly, teeth chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously as the thought of getting up, moving closer to Jessie waged a war inside of her that she'd never experienced. Then, she did it. She left her coffee mug behind with a sigh, moved closer to the redhead, and gently took the mug from their hands too. After setting it down in front of them, her palms (only slightly sweaty, but mostly warm and shaky) rested on either side of the other's face, forcing herself to meet Jessie's gaze when she repeated, "It had nothing to do with you."

@jessica-nichols

"I just-- I thought we were good." Sure, not out, not public. But Jessie had never demanded that, happy with their private romance that seemed to come easily enough. When Rowan insisted that she'd never meant for them to think the reason she'd left was because of them, Jessie could only furrow their brow, head shaking with confusion. What else was there to think? "Between me or the military... you chose the military." And yes, Jessica understood the obligation to serve, for Rowan to do what they could for the country and all that. But-- one minute the blonde had been there, the next she'd been gone. "Because...it was better than me." Rowan's choice of words tugged at the open wound that was Jessie's heart, a wound she'd never been able to heal. And maybe that's not what the other meant, but it's what the redhead heard. Because that's the belief that they'd been under for the last ten years, that Jessie themselves had been the cause of Rowan leaving. That maybe if she'd been better somehow, that the blonde would have stayed.

Picking up the mug, they took a few sips, using the liquid to try and push down the lump that had risen in their throat, that threatened to turn into something choking. It only helped a little. Setting it back down, their chest rose and fell with a steadying breath. "I just didn't understand why it had to be one or the other." If Rowan had asked, had shared her feelings with Jess at all, it was more than likely that Jessie would have supported Rowan's choice to relist. They would have found a job close to wherever the blonde got stationed, would have sent letters to her overseas, been the one Rowan could call when she was deployed... Rowan hadn't asked for that, though. She'd just left...

[skipperlandvik]

A nod came with the other's response. She knew that if it had been Jessie that left, it would've hurt her too. Her actions and the casualty of them wasn't lost on her. For years she'd lay awake at night, thinking about the redhead, about her finding the note that she'd left in her otherwise empty apartment, wondering what would come of it. Despite Skipper hesitancy to own up to her true self, to go public with their relationship, they'd still been a good amount of serious. Then she picked up and left and what surprised her was what Jessie thought the reason was behind why she left. What they'd done? The blonde's brow furrowed, jaw quivered with a feeling wedged between regret and protectiveness. She could see just how hurt the other was, even after all these years, and she wanted to take away the source of that hurt so badly.

Unfortunately, that seemed impossible when it was clear that she was the source. "What you did..." Skipper trailed off with a shake of her head, her mug clasped tightly between her hands, the heat bursting through the ceramic barely phasing her. "Jessie, it wasn't anything you did. I know I wasn't... detailed, in the letter I wrote, but I never meant for you to think that it was ever about you." Would it be cliche to give the it's not you, it's me speech ten years later? Because, honestly, it was entirely because of her. She'd tried her best to fit in with civilian life, wanted to be happy and normal and just average so badly, but as much as she wanted it, it always seemed like it was just out of her grasp. She couldn't reach it and so, she left, back to the only thing she felt like she ever knew. "I couldn't... I didn't feel like I could..." Skipper blew a frustrated breath from her lips, she'd never been this stuck on what to say. "I thought I could do the whole civilian life thing, college and friends and a job and I tried, but I just couldn't do it. I lived my whole life in the military. All I could hear in the back of my head was my dad telling me that I could do better, that I could be better. So I went back to the only thing I ever knew. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with how fucked up I was."

@jessica-nichols

Hands were stuffed into their pants pockets, Jessica trying not to feel awkward in the other's space. It was strange, how you could go from being so intimate with someone, to feeling so out of place near each other. "Thanks, I will." A small nod at the offer, before Jessica was following the blonde outside. It was a small place, but that didn't surprise the redhead, since Rowan had never been one for extravagance. Though the fact that the other had chosen somewhere so close to the beach was a little surprising, though maybe she liked being close to the water after serving in some of the drier places on Earth; welcoming beach sand compared to the dust of the desert. The early morning sun glinted off the water, and it took Jessie's eyes a moment to adjust as she took a seat, fingers wrapping around the warm mug. They hadn't been at all taken aback by Rowan's offer to meet so early in the morning - one of the things the pair had had in common back when--- back then-- was that they were both early risers. They'd enjoyed those moments, when the sun was just starting to peak above the horizon, when it felt like it was just the two of them awake in the whole world.

A long moment stretched between them then, though it didn't hold any of the peace and tranquillity of what they'd shared before. Jessie wasn't sure if this was a mistake, or what they'd been expecting coming here. But finally Rowan spoke, pulling the redhead from their thoughts. She was sorry. A small sigh left Jess as she let the feelings roll around in her chest. Brown eyes flicked down to stare at the mug in their hands, finding themselves at a loss for words then. How did she even begin to express what Rowan leaving had done to her? Did she even want to admit it to the other woman? "It hurt." They murmured, wrapping up years of emotion into two little words. "I didn't understand it. Didn't understand..." A shaky breath, glancing out at the shore rather than looking at the blonde. "Didn't understand what I'd done..." The words were barely a whisper, threatened to be taken away by the salty breeze, and maybe that's secretly what Jessie was hoping for.

[skipperlandvik]

She was internally panicking. Skin crawling with nerves that rippled across it every time she glanced at the redhead who made their way into her space, setting the backpack she had on her down by the door as though they'd been there a million times, as though they belonged there. It wasn't the first time the two had been in an interaction like this, one welcoming the other home, but this was different. This was tainted with a betrayal that could have only come from one of them walking away from the other, something Skipper intended to try and explain if she could get her feet to actually move to show the other the way to the deck. It was early, too early for her to be thrown into a situation like this, but she'd always been an early riser and most of her best thinking happened in the morning, before she let the world eat away at her slowly throughout the day.

The night before, though, had been plagued with dreams of explosions and abandonment and a mixture of the people she worked with while deployed and her dad and Jessie. It felt like she'd barely shut her eyes before they were opening with her alarm once more. Coffee. That's what she needed and it was with that thought that she motioned toward the open kitchen area and mumbled, "If you want something, it's there. Just... let me know," before leading the way to the door in the back of the small one-floor home, sliding it open to reveal the deck that barely saw much use outside of Skipper and her coffee. She couldn't deny the feeling that it was nice to share the tiny oasis with someone. "You can sit anywhere. Or stand. I... it doesn't really matter." Skipper sat herself nearest to her coffee mug, pushing the other in Jessie's direction before taking a much-needed sip of her own. She tried to time her breathing with the incoming waves, the gentle lapping of the water on the shore. "I'm sorry, for the way I left."

@jessica-nichols

Walking away from that supermarket isle had left Jessica in such a conflicted state. She hadn't known if Rowan would reach out or not, and attempted to brace themselves for that fact that the interaction might have been the last. After all, it had been ten years since Rowan had disappeared the first time with no explanation, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume it would happen again. But less than a week later, Jessie received the text saying they needed to talk, and honestly, the redhead didn't know how they felt. Relieved? Uncertain? Hesitant? All of the above, and so much more. Because maybe deep down, Jessie was scared to hear what Rowan had to say, to hear what they'd done to drive the other woman away. However, knowing had to be better than not knowing, and Jessie had already delt with ten years of the later.

They were somewhat surprised that Rowan had offered to have Jessie over to her place, though, since it meant that the blonde couldn't get out of it by just not showing up, something Jessie had sort of thought she'd try. Instead it's the redhead who's pausing outside Rowan's cottage, taking a deep breath to steady themselves before stepping up to knock.

It's not cold, but Jessie's well-worn denim jacket is tied around their waist, hair pulled into a ponytail with a bandana tied around to control the flyaways, which helps as the breeze comes up off the water. Brown eyes flick up when the door opens, breath still catching in her throat at seeing the blonde again. Quickly recovering, Jess stepped inside when Rowan stepped aside, slipping the small backpack off their shoulder and putting it by the door, head shaking when the blonde offered something to eat. "No, no, I'm okay." 'Coffee on the deck', however, seemed so... domestic, in a way that Jessica hadn't been expecting from Rowan.

[skipperlandvik]

location: skipper's home.

closed starter for @jessica-nichols

While she was right in that she barely lasted a day before reaching out to Jessie's work for her contact information, it took another couple of days before she found the courage to send that very important text asking the other to talk, and almost a week for the planned day to actually arrive. Skipper thought that inviting the redhead into her space would allow her to feel more comfortable, the sounds of the waves lapping against the sand in her remote cottage near the beach were supposed to be calming — it's why she prepared the deck with some coffee and brushed the sand and dust from the unused chairs there, the morning sun barely rising yet. While it remained cool outside for the time being, the blonde didn't feel all that calmed, and instead, a storm raged inside of her stomach, the anxiety of what was to come swirling around. Then, the knock on the door came and Skipper took a breath, willing herself not to panic, reminding herself that she couldn't just run from this when it was happening in her own home. She made her way in through the back door and through the small living area of the place she'd made her home; though she was still working on allowing herself to personalize it, there were touches of herself in the few pictures she'd put up containing friends and her mom and those taken during her time in the army, her favorite blanket thrown over the back of the couch with a few books she planned on reading stacked haphazardly on an end table, and crayon drawings and a mother's day craft all with a messily scribbled August stuck to her fridge with random magnets she's collected since moving there. Finally exhaling, she opened the door, unprepared for the sight of Jessie on the other side of it despite expecting the woman. "Hey, um, come in," Skipper greeted, stepping aside to allow the redhead inside before shutting the door behind her. "Thank you for agreeing to... this. I didn't want to leave things how they were. I owe you like, a million explanations and I can't promise that I have them, but we can try anyway, right?" Glancing at the other, she added, "I have coffee on the deck, but do you want water? A snack?"

[skipperlandvik]

She was the reason they were barely even dating. All of her hang ups, her self-consciousness, her fear that someone looming around some dark corner would figure out her secret and tell the entire world, as though that mattered in the slightest. What was she so afraid of? Her dad was gone, the army was in her past, and the people on this island? They couldn't have mattered less to Skipper. Why was she still so intent on denying a part of her that she'd been stuffing down for over a decade? She wished she had the answer, wished she knew why her heart hammered and sweat started to bead on the surface of her skin at the thought of someone overhearing and assuming. Maybe talking, in private, would be for the best, maybe she owed Jessie that much, at least. So she nodded meekly in understanding and watched the other walk away this time, knowing that she'd barely last a day before she'd make the phone call, asking for the local airplane mechanic's number.

@jessica-nichols

Even after all these years, Jessica was savvy to the subtle changes in Rowan's features, tiny facial expressions that revealed so much, bringing a pang of guilt to Jessie's chest. "I know, I know." Because they did know. They knew that confronting emotions was hard for Rowan, let alone in public. It wasn't that Jessie had meant to bring this all to the surface, but they couldn't pretend like this causal conversation was normal. But when Rowan shot back they were barely even dating, it was like a blade through Jessie's heart, the redhead instantly recoiling. Because there it was, the self-doubt rushing to the surface, that Jessica had been struggling with over the years. While they knew that it was a lie, that they had been something, hearing Rowan deny it so outrightly certainly hurt. Chin quivered, nodding even as the blonde murmured a small apology. "Forget it." Because if Rowan was going to be like that, then Jessica wasn't ready to deal with this. "Look, you know where I work..." Jessica couldn't even look up at Rowan when they spoke this time, feet shifting. "If you do want to talk, you can find me." After all, the island wasn't all that big. And Jessica knew their boss would give out their number if someone rang looking to enquire about a mechanic. @skipperlandvik

[skipperlandvik]

Her lips pressed together, jaw tensed as though she was putting all of her focus into the muscles in the bottom half of her face to avoid the heat building in the top half. How embarrassing would that be? Crying in the middle of a grocery store? She could only imagine what her dad would've said about it. So she toughened up, just like he taught her to, just like the military taught her to, and she added another thing to her basket as she finally let her gaze fall away from the other. "What do you want me to say?" Skipper questioned, distracting herself with the items on the shelf rather than the redhead beside her. She wondered, if she could disappear from this moment now, would she do that too? "It's not like we were married, Jessie. We were barely even dating." Once she heard the words actually leave her mouth, the blonde realized that if she had to force herself to say those words, chances are they'd hurt the other even more and she couldn't help but pause at the end of the aisle and back peddle what she was saying. "I'm sorry," Skipper admitted, a breath falling from her lips. "This just... I can't talk about this here. Not like this. Not with this many people around."

@jessica-nichols

Maybe Jessica had misread the situation, misinterpreted the words as an invitation when they'd been nothing more than a suggestion. But this whole conversation was throwing Jessie off, making her feel off balance, unsettled in a way they hadn't felt in a long time, and the redhead wasn't sure what to make of it. Running into an ex was never pleasant, but Rowan was so much more than an ex, and in some places, Jessie was starting to realize that her emotions were more raw than she'd let herself acknowledge. A deep breath, attempting to steady themselves, to make sure nothing was said that would be regretted later. "You ripped a whole in me, when you left." The note hadn't been enough to explain why, only where Rowan had gone. Leaving Jessica to fill herself with blame at somehow ruining the relationship, to make Rowan believe that possibly dying overseas was a better option than being with her. A belief that drove Jessica to avoid any true relationships in the years since, instead having a trail of one-night-stands and a few friends with benefits that she'd turned to when the need arose. But any time that someone got close, the panic would rise, the idea that something about Jessie herself would cause them to up and leave without explanation, and she just couldn't go through that again. "I don't know-- where we go from here." They'd gone two years without bumping into each other. Did they just part ways and hope it would be another two years before it happened again? Jessica wasn't sure they could know that Rowan was so close and just ignore it. @skipperlandvik

[skipperlandvik]

The other's refusal took her off guard. Eyebrows pinched just slightly in panicked confusion, blue hues searching for any sort of indication in what she said that Jessie just couldn't do. Was it celebrating? Did she think... that the blonde had underlying intentions when she'd mentioned celebrating when the other passed her test? "You, uh... no, I'm..." Her words broke off, again and again. Did she want to celebrate the other's achievements? Sure, it was a thought that crossed her mind, a feeling that had bubbled in her chest when she learned about Jessie's pursuit of their pilot's license, but it'd been a decade and Skipper hadn't exactly left on good terms. Or, rather, had ruined any good terms they'd had when she did leave. Things had changed since then, surely, despite her joke that nothing about the redhead changed at all since they last saw each other. "I didn't mean..." Her breathing quickened slightly, heart starting to hammer against her chest, caused the feeling of blood to pound in her ears. "We've both changed a lot since that day. I just wanted you to give yourself a chance to celebrate when the time comes. It doesn't have to be with me."

@jessica-nichols

Had Jessica minded that Rowan was still in the closet about her sexuality in public? A little, at first. Until Jessie had figured out where the other's boundaries were. The redhead themselves was a naturally affectionate person, was touchy-feely with all of her friends, so hadn't acted any different with Rowan, even though the emotions behind those touches were romantic instead of platonic. Once Rowan realized that no one could see the difference, that no one suspected anything, then she'd let Jessie continue that casual affection.

"I suppose a lot of people have pet snakes, and it makes sense they'd want to play cards with them." Jessie replied, humming. A pet snake certainly wasn't her first choice. When Rowan commented that not much had changed since they saw each other last, Jessica paused, brown eyes flicking towards the other woman. Was that some sort of invitation as well? They shook their head. "I'm sorry... I can't---- I've changed a lot since we were--- since you left." And a significant portion of that change was due to the trauma of Rowan leaving. Jessie couldn't pretend like that wasn't the case, couldn't simply act like nothing had happened. "I can't pretend like nothing happened, Rowan." She lowered her voice so the blonde hopefully wouldn't be spooked at anyone overhearing. But Jessica knew it wasn't a conversation they could have here. Still, they had to say something. @skipperlandvik

[skipperlandvik]

It almost seemed too normal, too much of a blast from the past to not leave a dull ache in her chest. Grocery shopping was something they'd done together, a way to feel like a couple without appearing like one. It was easy to seem like friends or roommates while picking out granola and salsa and milk alternatives. What others didn't know was how Skipper would pick up a certain brand of an item simply because she knew it was Jessie's favorite, or how she and the redhead shared a grocery list because they were always at one of their homes and it just seemed natural to share groceries. The granola, the teasing, the seriousness of the other when they mentioned working toward their pilot's license — it made Skipper want to run and fall into it all at the same time.

"Oh, totally. Why did you think those were invented? For kids? Please, it was definitely for the snakes." How she even knew about the card holders that made it easier for little hands to collect cards in games of UNO or Go Fish wasn't something she wanted to answer and she hoped the other wouldn't question it. "If smiling is your version of celebrating, it doesn't seem much has changed since we last saw each other. You know what I mean though. This is something big, you need to celebrate when you inevitably pass with flying colors. I've only been here for two years, but I'm sure there's someplace to celebrate on this island."

@jessica-nichols

There it was: a flash of the Rowan that Jessie had fallen in love with. The joking, teasing woman with the bright smile. Seeing it tugged at Jessica's heart strings, more than she would have liked. "I don't know how a snake can play poker - they don't have hands. Do they get one of those card holding stands? That only seems fair." Really, Jessie felt like they shouldn't be joking back, that somehow this was dangerous territory, like it would be all too easy to fall back into old habits. But Rowan had left, after all. Had made the choice that Jessica wasn't worth staying with.

A shrug fell from the redhead's shoulders when Rowan mentioned she didn't know that was something Jessica had been wanting to do. Which was true. While working on planes came naturally, Jessie hadn't really ever had a huge desire to fly them. It wasn't as if they were scared of flying or anything, and always accepted a ride when the owners of the planes they worked on offered them. But there had been many teases over the years of people saying they couldn't trust a airplane mechanic who couldn't fly. So Jessie had finally bit the bullet and started working towards it. Having the understanding of how everything inside the craft certainly helped, and they hadn't found it all that difficult to learn. "I hadn't really thought about it." They admitted, brow furrowing a little. "Smile for my licence photo?" They offered up, already knowing that's not what Rowan had in mind. @skipperlandvik

[skipperlandvik]

The blonde hadn't even processed the announcement the other made, but suddenly the room was flooded with a yellow warmth that caused her eyelids to squeeze closed for just a second, a split second and nothing more, before blinking away the glow that covered the room. She could see enough in front of her to now confirm that she was in a bedroom, safe, untouched, and not under any threat that'd been so prevalent in her nightmare. It was just her and Emily and the question of what exactly were they doing hanging between them. Her damp and still slightly nervous gaze fell to the other blonde as soon as a hand touched her own, gently prying it from the sheets it'd been entangled with, and without putting up much of a fight, she released her hold on the soft material. She processed the questioned asked, but hesitated to answer. There was no surprise when it came to the nightmare that had woken her up, no surprise that there was even a nightmare at all, but how did she explain that?

Skipper sucked in a deep breath and exhaled the shaky breath through her nose. Breathe. Nothing could touch her there. She was alive. She was safe. The words she kept repeating were ones she heard a million times in the group sessions she attended for veterans, ones she never continued consistently enough to help with anything. One day maybe the nightmares would fade on their own. Someday. The look of concern in Emily's eyes and the lack of sleep she'd endured were enough to cause her to fold, the information spilling softly, quietly out of her lips, as though mumbled for only the two of them. "I was in the army... for awhile. Three tours and all I have to show for it are some scars and some lousy dreams." A whispered chuckle, full of irony, fell from her lips as she tried to downplay the nightmares she was having. She felt guilty as soon as she'd faded back into reality for having woken the other up over something so trivial. The movement of the thumb against her knuckles kept her grounded, so her mind focused on that. "I thought maybe we had enough to drink that I'd just sleep through them tonight."

@emsclarkes

They were still in the dark, but even unable to see, Emily could feel how tightly Skipper's muscles were tensed under her hand, she could hear how ragged her breathing was. She realized that she too was near-panting, adjusting to how quickly sleep had left her. Still, despite being awoken so suddenly, she was alert, trying to assess the threat. "I'm turning the light on," She announced, not wanting to scare her when she reached over and turned the lamp on with her free hand, leaving her other hand wrapped around Skipper's arm, throwing a warm, yellow light into the room.

Now that she could see, she let her eyes rake over Skipper with an almost surgical-like precision, perceptive in gaze. A nightmare. Skipper didn't exactly seem surprised by this. Emily herself was no stranger to nightmares, especially in her youth, but they, for the most part, had subsided, and if one dragged her out of sleep in her mid-thirties, it would've caught her off guard. But there was a note in Skipper's voice that had snagged her. "A nightmare," Emily repeated, her eyes flicking down to how tightly her hands were clenched around the bedsheets. "Why don't you sound surprised?" She asked, letting her hand trail down her bare arm until she could wrap her hand around her fist, gently forcing her fingers open, coaxing them to relax instead of clutching the fabric so hard it must've hurt.

She wasn't exactly sure what they were doing, or what territory this was, because, so far, they'd only been hooking up and errantly texting. This - talking in bed together in the middle of the night, was undeniably something different, and yet, Emily didn't balk at it. How could she, when Skipper had sounded so terrified when she'd said her name. "Hey - you have to breathe," She said, interrupting her own thoughts when she'd clocked the fact that Skipper's chest was still heaving. "Nothing's here," She added, her thumb brushing over her knuckles.

[skipperlandvik]

"Okay, offended that you just called my taste in coffee shit, first of all," Skipper pointed out with the hand that was holding her coffee loosely against her chest, as though she were any bit of offended (she wasn't, but he didn't have to know that). "With that attitude, you might have a successful date in... oh let's say three decades? And that's probably just me being generous, because y'know, can't teach an old dog, right?" Her lips quirked in a semi-smile, the first sign she'd allowed him that she, not only liked their mornings spent fishing together, but actually enjoyed them.

Her brow raised with just the slightest tic, wondering if there was a reason the world would be grateful if he didn't have kids. Frankly, she shouldn't have been reproducing either, but fate had other things in mind when it came to that and thankfully, August was nothing like her and everything like the man who raised him. "Heard from experience... if that makes sense. I, uh, know someone who has a kid. I'm not really mom material myself, if that even surprises you.'' Settling next to Charlie, she set her coffee down on the dock and popped open her container of worms, eager to scoop one up in her hand before putting it on her hook and easily casting it into the water to never be seen again. "You think worms know what's going on? Or are they just a bunch of mush with no brain inside?"

@charliejackson

A quip nearly launched off his tongue in the vein of her just accepting whatever she got, thankfully Charlie was able to bite the comment down rather let it gain an ear. One that likely wouldn't be happy to hear such feedback. They didn't know each other well enough, nor had they the comfort to joke and tease on that level. He supposed that's what these fishing trips were to accomplish. Finding common ground after such an awkward date together. "You may be perfectly fine drinking shit coffee but I am not," he returned, shooting her a look right back. "It's an important staple of the day and here we are already starting off on the wrong foot." Now a bit of a teasing tone came along with the words even if they gave Charlie pause to think. Should it be this hard? Maybe he was overthinking things and now it became all about trying rather than them simply be natural with each other.

As they headed out to the water Charlie began prepping as they moved. Making sure his lures, line, bait, etc were within reach. As soon as they'd reach the sore his line wouldn't waste much time before hitting the water. "Who you calling an old dog?" A smirk was present and Charlie was fully at ease then. Fishing was his happy place, his zen, where everything made sense. "If the world is lucky I'll never have 'em either," he shrugged as he wade quick work of tying a lure onto his line. It wasn't that he didn't like kids, sometimes in the past he'd been positive that if he'd met the right person he'd be eager to have them, but he was getting older and life was full of knocks rather than blessings. "Is that what you've heard or something you know from experience?" He couldn't remember if she'd mentioned kids or not. The date had gone off the rails and he wasn't sure they'd done much in the way of getting to know each other.

[skipperlandvik]

"They aren't? But they told me they were amazing friends. In fact... we have a game of poker all planned for next week. I've heard the snake actually has a horrible poker face, though." A grin continued growing on her expression until it was wide and bright and completely uncharacteristic of Skipper. The feeling of amusement in her cheeks only felt like one person; Rowan. Specifically, the Rowan that she'd been in the year they'd dated, smiling in a way that only the other could ever pull out of her. Most of her personality was usually doom and gloom with a little bit of self-protective sarcasm and teasing, but when it came to Jessie? It seemed her body just reacted naturally to being near the redhead.

With a nod, she handed over the bag of trail mix she was looking at and grabbed another to put into her own basket. It was her favorite to keep on hand whenever she needed a snack to keep going during the day. "You're getting your pilot license?" The blonde glanced at Jessie, brow raised with just a little hint of surprise, trying to pop the small feeling of pride that threatened to bubble up in her chest. It wasn't her place anymore, to feel proud for any of the other's accomplishments, not in any way other than an acquaintance would. "I'm... that's really awesome. I had no clue that was something you were gunning for. That's a big thing, right? Are you planning on celebrating once it's all said and done?"

@jessica-nichols

In the almost year that they'd been together, Jessica had seen some of the... quirks the army had left Rowan with, and they had been hard for the blonde to overcome back then. Jessie couldn't imagine what an extra two tours would have done to Rowan's behavior, to her psyche. So it wasn't surprising that the blonde had drifted around for a while. Deep down, Jessie ached that they hadn't been able to be there for the other woman, ease that adjustment back into civilian life. But-- no. No, she couldn't let herself think like that, feel those emotions. It was clear that Rowan hadn't wanted that, or she would have reached out, so Jessie needed to quell those feelings before they could even form.

It was interesting; to hear that Rowan was working with the park service. Jessie wondered what that entailed. "I don't think snakes and alligators are really safe friends to have." They deadpanned. Was Rowan still drawn to risky things, or was she simply making a joke? When they stopped for the blonde to look over a packet of trail mix, Jessica offered a hand. "Can you pass me one of those when you're done?" They asked, before nodding at the question. "Yeah, taking care of all the scenic flight aircraft at that airfield on the west side. I'm... I'm nearly done getting my pilot's license." Why was she even adding that? Maybe just to fill the air. Jessie was struggling with such mixed feelings in this moment, unsure how to feel. @skipperlandvik

[skipperlandvik]

She landed with a crash back into the moment. Not overseas, not in the military, not living through the thousandth imagined death she could've had while enlisted. Instead, she was in the bed of another blonde, with plush pillows and soft sheets wrapped up in her fists and an oversized sleep shirt that didn't belong to her. She was safe. The wave of anxious relief rolled over her as soon as the hand, a touch that was growing so familiar, grasped her arm, offering a something to latch onto as she fell back down. The room came into focus, the light of the clock shone brightly, and her stomach swam with the waning fear of what was in her mind just moments before. Her chest rose and fell with the breaths she took, short and panicked and threatening to cave her chest in on itself with each other.

Her muscles were still tensed in her forearms, the sheets still tangled in tight fists, but her breathing was starting to even out, her mind balancing reality and fiction as every second passed. "It's... I'm..." Skipper's head shook in denial, even though she hadn't actually denied anything yet. What they were doing hadn't exactly led to an opportunity to drop the fact that she spent over a decade of her life in the military. How was she supposed to explain it in the midst of the panic flooding her veins. "A nightmare," the blonde finally croaked out into the darkness of the room, forcing the words from her mouth even though they hardly felt like her voice saying them. "It was just a nightmare." 'Just a nightmare' had never felt like such a lie. 'Just a nightmare' didn't leave fists curled this tightly into sheets, didn't leave chests so heavy it felt like it could suffocate her at any moment. 'Just nightmares' were so much simpler to explain to someone she'd been casually sleeping with in the dead of night, someone she barely hard known for a collective two months.

@emsclarkes

Emily, usually, was a heavy sleeper, but external circumstances could pull her out of her sleep in an instant. She hardly every woke up on her own, but something like a car horn, her phone ringing, or someone getting out of bed could rouse her quickly, as if she was missing out on something by being asleep. She attributed it to her constant work stress and overall life stress, how abruptly she woke up sometimes, but had long ago succumbed to the fact that it was a career path she'd chosen and she had bigger problems to fix than her sleep pattern.

She'd never intended to rekindle things with Skipper once she actually moved to Marshall Island, but one thing had led to another and their stream of text messages never really stopped when she was back in New York packing up her place. More than that, she actually missed her, and felt a sense of longing when she returned back. She wanted to see her, regardless of how fucked up that was. But she'd reached out, and Skipper had come over to her half-unpacked, overpriced apartment, and Emily had opened a bottle of wine for herself, knowing where the night would go. She actually liked that Skipper hadn't gotten up to leave the moment it was over, and she, for once, didn't really question things when she ended up in an oversized t-shirt, curled up into Skipper's side, her lids heavy with sleep.

That sleep was shattered in an instant when she felt her wrench up from beside her, shaking Emily out of her own sleep with a gasp, fumbling to sit up in the darkness, to get her bearings, to figure out what exactly was happening. "What?" Emily gasped, her chest heaving, trying to hold on to the tail end of a dream - a nightmare? - no, it was real, Skipper was awake next to her, and speaking, asking for her, the name tumbling from her lips almost too easily in the dark.

"I- Yeah," Emily responded breathily, confirming that she was there in bed, reaching out in the darkness on instinct, fumbling for Skipper's upper arm. Groggy, her eyes found the clock - 3:41am - as she coughed to clear her throat. "What? What's happening?"

[skipperlandvik]

location: emily's home.

closed starter for @emsclarkes

She could feel the sweat already forming warm beads on her temple, her chest threatening to cave in with each startled breath she took, as she jolted awake, the sheet beneath her gripped between her fists so tightly she wasn't sure if it would ever be able to be unclasped or if her fingers would meld with the material of the sheets and become one. Her gaze darted around the darkness of the room, as though she was seeking out both the threat and a way to keep herself safe. It wasn't until she could feel the movement next to her that her heart slowed enough for her to actually feel how hard it was beating against her chest instead of it just being completely and utterly numb. "Em?" Skipper wasn't sure why she uttered the name of the other as she struggled to catch her breath, zoning back into enough of reality to figure out just where she was and who she'd been with. After leaving the service, she'd always expected the nightmares to fade off as she became more integrated with civilian life, but they stayed with her, as strong as the memories that showed up in them and the million deaths she never lived. It was the reason she absolutely never lingered after hooking up with someone, not since Jessie... not until now.