axis

her limbs are heavy, and her already intense emotions are even worse to get a handle on. she feels like a failure— realistically, she knows why she's here, ruined, crying quietly in bed, but part of her feels that she should be anything but. she's in goddamn psych. physician heal thyself, or whatever. she can't manage it.

thinking about cassie who notices, because she's perceptive, especially to these sorts of things. to crisis. and she can't help but help. victoria is too weak to deny it, wants someone to be there so desperately, lets cassie cook her a warm meal and sit with her. it's crossing lines, boundaries, probably, they're coworkers and maybe-sorta-friends? sometimes? victoria can't make herself care. cassie just wants to make the poor, sweet girl she's grown to be impossibly fond of feel at least a little better.

thinking about a victoria who begs cassie to stay, please, after dinner. who wipes at her chin and wills the tears to stop dripping, ducking her head to hide. how could cassie say no? when the poor thing needs her this bad? how could cassie leave her alone?

and so they curl up on victoria's couch, they watch a movie. and victoria slumps. slowly, so tired, unconciously or maybe purposefully leaning towards cassie's warmth. and cassie can't help her urge to care, the ache in her chest, the way her arms wrap so easily around the younger woman and tug her into the safety of her lap. cradling her like a mother to a child. something softer than victoria ever had from her own mother.

victoria nestles her face in the crook of cassie's neck, and she cries. she cries and she cries, hiccuped sobs and quiet tears, shuddered breaths. she cries and cassie lets her. holds her. stays. murmurs hey, hey, it's okay, you're alright, baby. you're okay. just let it out. let it all out. they both don't mention the intimacy of the pet name on cassie's tongue. they barely think about it. it loosens victoria's shoulders, slows her tears.

victoria who whimpers I just— I just wanna feel good, in cassie's neck, and cassie who sighs out I know. I know, sweetie, I know.

you could help me, victoria mumbles, pressing up closer, breathing shaky. you could make me feel good. please. you— I know you could.

cassie's heart aches when she picks up on victoria's meaning. a sick twist of guilt in her gut, she can't say she's never thought about making victoria feel good in that way. how victoria might sound, lost in pleasure, how her eyes might glaze over. cassie swallows thick, feeling awful, feeling perverted. either way, she'd never give into that temptation, not when victoria's like this.

not tonight, vic, cassie tells her, soft, gentle, letting her down easy. 'not tonight' leaves a little too much room for 'maybe another night,' but cassie can't bring herself to seal it off completely. s'not what you need right now, okay? I know you're hurting, I know it... I know it's so, so heavy. but it doesn't last forever. let's just... cassie sighs. let's go to bed, baby, okay?

victoria sniffles, and she feels in way too much pain for how young she is, a body weighed down by her mental strain. it's hard to feel disappointed at the rejection when cassie says it like that. when cassie says it like... let's? like you'll... victoria swallows, thick, trying not to be too hopeful. like you'll, y'know, come? you won't go? will you hold me?

cassie nods, wonders if she's making a terrible decision. kisses victoria's head before she can think better of it. yeah, baby, I won't go. not leaving you like this. and of course I'll hold you, okay? of course.

thinking about yolanda doing so with a patronizing croon. so easy for me, ‘vadi. does mommy know you’ll beg anyone to fuck you? victoria paws at her to stop, to please shut her mouth, and yolanda does with a pleased giggle because she’s teased enough, anyway—look, there are those tears she’s been coveting.

thinking about… yolanda letting cassie know that she’s the one victoria comes home with.

“you should see her when she cries,” yolanda says over the pretext off reviewing the x-rays that cassie’s holding onto right now. the patient’s been wheeled to surgery and yolanda knows that she’s overstaying her welcome, but she’s seen the way cassie hovered around her prize. a little too late, don’t you think?

cassie, for her part, doesn’t react obviously but yolanda sees the tensing of her shoulders, the way her breaths leave her, rattling in the chest, and knows she’s got her, hook, line, and sinker. yolanda hums like she’s just talking about the weather. “she’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure.”

at that, she pulls back and turns to leave, not before catching a glimpse of cassie’s furrowed eyes tracking her from the glass door. yolanda bites at a smirk and walks out of there with a sense of victory.

you smell so good.

blush. thanks.

seriously, (muttered with her lips still pressed to vic), what is that?

uh… a nervous giggle with wide eyes, it’s body oil i stole from cvs.

she fails to mention that she doesn’t actually wear the stuff that often. only really for mckay, on the nights when they can be together. it’s become a ritual. coating her skin in the stuff after exfoliating her whole body. she likes to be soft for her woman.

cassie pauses to laugh, a warm sound.

what?

nothing, you’re just… such a twenty year old.

another nervous giggle. she hates it when she does that, but cassie secretly loves it. is that a bad thing?

cassie pauses to think about it. no. it’s what you are. just makes me feel a little predatory when you say shit like that, sweetheart.

victoria does not admit how much it turns her on to hear that, but cassie’s hand is in her cunt. she can feel it.

He spends the entire season completely self-involved to an infuriating degree. He talks about Louie’s death and the waitress losing her leg to sepsis as something bad that happened to him. He’s upset that no one reached out to him while he was in rehab, meanwhile the entire department is receiving trauma counseling after dealing with a mass shooting. He mopes around the ED and whines to anyone who will listen about how he isn’t Robby’s favorite boy anymore. Like yeah bro, your boss caught you stealing drugs from patients in your care. That’s gonna take you out of the running for employee of the month.

The was he was trying to power through his apology tour at breakneck speed really makes it feel like it’s more about consoling himself than it is truly making amends. I’ve covered how I feel about his apology to Santos in this post so I won’t rehash it but I will say that she and Robby were very visibly not in a place to have those conversations that day and part of that step in the program is giving those apologies when the person you’re apologizing to is ready for them. Yes, the narrative structure of the show requires it to happen that day but for Langdon to brush past Robby saying ‘no we can’t talk about this right now’ and cornering him on the roof was ignoring a clear boundary in service of making himself feel better.

He also has very little perspective on how lucky he was and how light he got off. His life could be in shambles right now. He could have lost his medical license. He could be facing criminal charges. His fucking wife could have left him. None of those things happened. He got to keep his same job at the same hospital and go home to his same wife at the end of the day and has the audacity to whine to Santos about what he’s been through. A ten month stint in rehab is far from a vacation but getting help isn’t a punishment either.