I will never be satisfied...

It had taken three times. Three times of his phone going off before he finally picked up. Two more than it should have taken him to answer. It wasn’t all his fault though. He had been preparing for an important meeting but he had ran out of that meeting after Eliza had called, giving him the news about Andy. 

The meeting could wait. 

This was way more important.. 

Alexander wasn’t sure how exactly he made it to the children’s hospital. One minute he was running out the set of doors to his office and the next he was running in the doors of the hospital. 

This hospital wasn’t busy but there were doctors and nurses all over the place and Alexander had to dodge people as he ran down the hallway to the private room that Andy was in. Alexander tried to come to a stop after running from the front doors to the door to the private room. 

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he stood up straight and fixed his suit before he knocked once on the door. He reached out, taking the doorknob in his hand before turning it to open the door to the room. “Angelica?” He asked softly, his eyes sweeping over the room soon settling on her. 

          he hasn’t been dead thirty minutes yet. john wasn’t here long; he couldn’t look at andy  ---  andy’s corpse, angelica forces herself to think  ---  more than he had to. angelica can’t force herself to step away. the doctors closed andy’s big brown eyes and angelica couldn’t allow them to do much more than that. they were wide and scared and that is the last memory she has of her little boy. the second his doctor closed his eyes, john had left, breaking the news to everyone, discussing things angelica can’t begin to imagine.

          funeral arrangements. the cruel words force themselves into her thoughts. they’d talked about this, she and john. they wouldn’t include andy, but he made his opinions known anyway. he’s so AWARE, much more realistic than a little boy his age should ever have had to be. he’s eleven. oh god, he’s only eleven.

          angelica can’t bring herself to leave her boy. she can’t let him go. what if he wakes up and she’s not here? he’d be so scared and she can’t do that to him. she knows, in some quiet part of her mind, that he won’t wake up. she’s shaking violently with the sobs that won’t stop. denial is easier when he looks like this, when his eyes are closed and he looks like he’s sleeping, like he’ll wake up. she can’t imagine a world in which he doesn’t exist. if she leaves, if she goes, it’s like she’s ACCEPTING this new world she doesn’t recognize. 

          it takes a minute for her to realize someone’s said her name. her sight is blurry, nonstop tears flowing down her cheeks. she’s a mess. her makeup streaks. none of it matters. nothing matters. andy did not deserve six years of suffering only to die at the end. he doesn’t deserve suffering at all. he’s so good, and so sweet. all of her boys clung to her when they were YOUNGER, but andy never stopped, andy was always at her side, her precious little protector. he’s so shy, hiding behind her legs unless someone said something to her he didn’t like. then he became her knight in shining armor, so angry he trembles and his little voice croaks.

          his hand is still warm in hers. he’s gone but his body is still warm and she wants to scream. how dare this world continue to exist, how dare it spin when andy is gone? angelica wants to scream, but her throat is sore from yelling at the doctors. how much more money could they possibly need to keep him alive? she would give them the entire church and schuyler fortune for his surgeries, for his treatment, for his medication. whatever he needed, she would get it for him. all the doctors had to do was keep him alive. 

          his hand is so small, so frail. his skin was always a few degrees colder than everyone else’s, always a little sicker, a little paler. she should have known something was wrong when she walked in. he was flushed, red, whimpering for his mother because mommy can always make him feel better, make him safe.

          why couldn’t she keep him safe?

          angelica’s body is shaking with tears, silent, broken sobs, though she’s trying to be strong. god, what if he wakes up? she doesn’t want him to see her crying. negativity is BAD for him in his condition. she has to be strong for him, has to sing him songs and make him smile when even the painkillers aren’t working, when the world is grim because the universe is cruel to a little boy. when god is punishing her through HIM and he doesn’t deserve it, he’s just a little boy. he likes his video games and he likes to sing and he’s so shy, so shy, and smart and scared and  ---  god he’s so scared. he’s always scared, in pain. but he always, ALWAYS understood what was happening to him, smart enough to ask the doctors questions and demand explanations. he can recite poetry because it makes him feel better and god, what if he wakes up and she’s crying? how can she make that better for him? mommy is strong and sure and always on his side. how can she keep that up if he wakes up to her crying?

          he’s not going to wake up.

          the sob turns into a scream. she can’t stop thinking about him as if he’s alive, as if his little chest is still moving up and down. as if any second now he’ll wake up and ask her where dad is, and can he have a coffee? he always wants coffee, no hot chocolate or milk, just black coffee, just like his uncle. he always teases his dad about his tea.

              ❝  that explains it.  ❞   she is well-familiar with the eldest sister’s mindset, despite not being one herself.  her olenka must always argue everything  —  she thinks, analyzes, and views the world through a more critical lens than tatiana has ever learned how to. so much is demanded of the eldest  ;;  they are looked upon with the expectation of being perfect, of setting an example. tatiana BEARS LESS of that burden  ( though she arguably fulfills the role better than her temperamental sister ).  ❝  is your entire family back in america? it must be difficult… to be so far apart.  ❞

                   her thoughts have wandered to certain grand dukes  —  her cousin dmitry, who always dismisses the grand duchesses words with scorn in his eyes, and his toadish titled friends. even princesses are not above the SCRUTINY of being a woman  —  how nice would it be to have the world’s press talk about her charity endeavors, not which princes are vying for her hand!     ❝  generous of them, really. i promise i’m usually not so blunt — ❞    she chuckles to herself, but offers no APOLOGY.   ❝  the british society circuit is a bit overwhelming. you navigate it with such ease, mrs. church. i should take a page from your book! ❞

With the sudden movement, Eliza yelps in surprise, hanging onto her sister for dear life. ❝Angie, put me down! I’m soft and fragile! I also feel a bit nauseous, and that dress is gorgeous, and I don’t think anyone would be happy if I threw up all over it,❞ she warns, unable to contain her giggling despite her happiness. Pip will have a little sister or brother! Someone to grow up with, and keep him company. Eliza has always wanted a big family, like she’s had growing up. Now, she’s even closer to achieving that, and bringing more love to the world! At first, she’d been worried about becoming a new mother, but when she sees her husband and how much Angelica’s children get so excited to see their ‘Aunt Betsey,’ she knows her worries are for naught.❝Hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,❞ Eliza retorts, unable to contain her happy giggling.  She sticks her tongue out at her sister teasingly before jumping into her arms again, hugging her while she can, before she has to go back to the states and has a stomach too large to be able to be hugged tightly. 

( msg - mama bear 🐻 ) our family is massive, you and dad aren’t the only example of a couple she’s had

( msg - mama bear 🐻 ) you’re not a failure. you’re not.

( msg - mama bear🐻 ) I do worry