Help, I Am Small. I'm Needy {Dan}

[GERDY MILLAN]

The only family she had. Gerdy was a foster child, bounced around from home to home. She suffered unwarrented physical and mental abuse. There was even one house...one house where things would happen. Her own personal pit of hell. And every time she ran, she could almost always be found at her grandmother's nursing home. Where she would then be hauled in, and processed once more. But that was her safe place--even if her grandmother didn't realize what was happening most of the time, it was Gerdy's safe place. Cave of the Gertrudes, Gerdy liked to call it. A secret base, really. Her friends didn't know about Granma Trudy. They didn't know about the hell--just that she was a foster child. Gerdy made a good point never to open up.

So the secret was kept, and she tried to go see her grandmother every weekend...until she got friends. When Gerdy found people she identified with, her visits became less and less frequent. She didn't even think about it until just that morning, when she recieved a phone call from the nursing home. Gerdy was Trudy's only living family. And unfortunately, they needed her there right at that moment. Some very serious things were happening, and they needed to explain to Gerdy in person.

Grabbing her clothes, Gerdy change very quickly and didn't bother with leaving her dorm through the door. She shoved the window open, and after a check to make sure no one was in the area, she dropped from the windor, rocketing up into the sky as she raced as quickly as she could to the nursing home. The wind whipping her face kept her focus, didn't let her mind wander too much. When the home came into view, Gerdy landed behind it with a hard crunch of her boots. Tugging her hat out of her back pocket, she tugged it down over her freshly bleached hair and hurried inside.

The words fell on her ears, and she felt like she had been punched square in the chest. Her small hands were clutching the arms of the chair so tightly that the plastic was squeaking under her grip. Frozen still as a statue, and when a nurse tried to help her out of her chair, she violently jerked away, her lips a stiff angry line. Stiffly, she stood on her own as they led her to the room. The room she could float to with her eyes shut. The room she spent nights in when she didn't want to be at school. The room was earily quiet. No Golden Girls playing softly in the background. Just the steady hum of machines, a robotic beep monitering Trudy's heart. A tube down her throat, forcing her lungs to open and close.

One of Gerdy's arms went around her stomach, the other clamping over her mouth. She wasn't going to cry. More words from the doctor. Gerdy's phone had gone several days without a battery charge (the airhead lost the damn charger), using her computer to talk to friends and keep up with them between classes. She never recieved the calls. Stroke. Comatose. Unresponsive. Not likely coming back. Leaving the youngest Gertrude along with the oldest, Gerdy pulled up a chair to her grandmother's side.

"They're gonna pull your plug, Granma. So you gotta wake up now, kay?"

[/color] Gerdy murmured quietly, reaching out with her hands to press over the wrinkled ones of her grandmother. Soft. Gentle. Hands that combed her matted hair, hands that dried her tears when she came home from school. They didn't move under Gerdy's; still as death. She wasn't sure how long she sat there with her grandmother. Staring at the woman's face, talking to her. Apologizing. If only Gerdy had kept coming back. If only Gerdy had knicked a phone charger. It had to be her fault somehow. It had to be her fault that her grandmother was like this, and subsequently---they were going to pull the plug on the woman.

Eventually, the doctors came to escort Gerdy from the room. They tried to talk to her, to say more words. But they were garbled, they didn't make sense. Instead--she numbly stumbled out of the nursing home for the last time. She didn't have it in her to fly--when she tried, it was a pathetic hover for about five seconds, before she was dropped back onto her feet. Her flight wasn't cooperating, and neither were her legs. Her phone was charged now. She could text someone. She could text Dan. They usually talked every day, and yet...she was sure her fingers wouldn't work either. So her phone remained ignored in her back pocket, despite the buzzing alerting her to texts and tweets.

She wasn't sure when she got back to Baum. Or that her normally bouffant hair was as flat as a flat tired. That her heavy makeup was smeared--having forgotten to wash it off the night before, and not having a chance to fix it before the call. Grey marks were on her pale cheeks where her leftover mascara had run and she quickly rubbed it away with the shredded sleeves of her hoodie. She felt raw--her sweater sliced all the way down the back, and riding up in the front. She felt cold, and naked. Her sore, broken heart bared to the world. Aimlessly, her boots crunched over the grass, carrying her somewhere. Nowhere. She was pacing a large circle in the courtyard, and it wasn't even registering to her mind that she was walking a large circle. Sometimes very slowly when her legs didn't want to work anymore, and other times very quickly--as though she was trying to outrun the the thoughts that were flooding her mind.[/blockquote]


Outfit: Click Me
Words: 960
Notes: Ouch.

[DAN KAPLAN]

Dan had really wanted to go hang out by the river today, down where you could see the boats and the waves and the bridges and all that cool stuff. It wasn’t like, exciting, exactly, but still. It was his alone time #macho. But nope. Not today. Just as he’d been getting ready to head out, he’d gotten a text from some asshole in his Chem lab group, Evan or something #whocares calling some dumb “emergency meeting”.

It wasn’t like Dan was a #slacker or anything. Like, he did homework. Sometimes. #occasionally. But #seriously? This project wasn’t due for like, four more days. And he hated those stupid meetings anyway, because Asshole Evan just had to have them meet in the basement of the science building, where there was no cell phone service, so Dan had to bring the stupid whiteboard #fuckthewhiteboard which fucking sucked in its own right, because even though he had a whiteboard, it wasn’t like the other guys in his group were going to write down everything they said on it. So Dan was basically stuck trying #andfailing to lipread while his group worked around him.

Word of advice: Don’t ever do science #ever, he tweeted as he trudged across the courtyard now, back towards his dorm where there hopefully wouldn’t be anyone waiting who wanted to hang out with him or anything, so he could finally get some peace. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his ¬friends. The guys were all really great, and just #wow, he couldn’t even imagine how frustrating it must have gotten for them to have to like, write everything out for him, and make all these allowances and changes to their normal like, social routine, just so Dan wouldn’t be left out all the time. He was certainly grateful for that. And Andrea…well, that was another story. #bowchickawowow. But sometimes it got overwhelming, and sometimes…well, he just missed his parents, grandparents, his brothers and sisters. And more than anything, he’d been missing his friends from Baton Rouge. He missed being around people who signed with him, on his level. Not all the time. But sometimes he just got these like, random bouts of sadness, these times where he missed his old life like, painfully.

#ohwell. The year was almost over. And then he’d be going back to Baton Rouge, and his family, and the School for the Deaf where he was normal. #Right?

Would he actually be, though? He knew it was entirely up to him; his parents didn’t care, as long as he was in school and not shooting up heroine with creepy homeless guys in the streets #thuglife. But he couldn’t even define the feelings that washed over him whenever he thought about leaving Baum like, permanently.

This had started as a temporary thing, obviously. A gap year type deal, to experience the hearing world. Dan had assumed he’d come here and be a loser, and return to Baton Rouge the next fall with no qualms about it. But now…he wasn’t quite so sure. Sure, he hadn’t seen his family and friends from LSD in what felt like centuries. But he tried to imagine never seeing Chandler again, never seeing Jackson and the guys again, never seeing Gerdy or Sam or Andrea’s beautiful gorgeous perfect face again. Hell, he’d probably even miss Scarlett #whowouldathought

But as he continued across the courtyard, he thought about this whole thing. This #hearingpeople thing. All this writeboard-writing #fuckthewhiteboard and texting instead of normal conversation, and always being confused and scared and alone and…well, could he really take another year of this? It was almost like—

Was that Gerdy?

Oh, good. Just the person he’d been looking for. Hey, I need some advice, he began to type into a text on his phone, changing direction abruptly and making a quick beeline towards the area where Gerdy was walking around in some kind of weird circle thing. Maybe she was exercising. #fitlife. But he slowed as her image grew clearer, and slowly his fingers fell from the keypad. What was that on her face? It wasn’t…it couldn’t be…#ohno. She hadn’t been…crying, had she? He saw her wipe whatever the smudge was away before he could make an official analysis thing.

He felt his phone thud on the ground beside his feet as he realized. #Yup. That was 100% a tear. Oh, there was another. And another. Ha! He was right! Gerdy was crying!

Oh God. Gerdy was crying.

Gerdy? His thumbs began to type instinctively. He began to duck down to pick up his phone, then screwed it, and yanked the whiteboard from his back pocket #fuckthewhiteboard. Okay, this was the one time. This was an emergency. He scribbled onto the board as quickly as he could, wrinkling his nose at the gross smell of Expo Marker chemicals and the weird squeaky noise the marker made against the board. What’s going on? Are you okay? He tapped her on the shoulder, holding out the marker for her to write a response.

Outfit: yup
Words:839
Notes: ouch

[GERDY MILLAN]

She didn’t even see him coming, or else she would have greeted him with a smile. At least she would have tried. Tried and failed more like. Gerdy didn’t even sense him coming up to her, and had she been able to fly—the simple touch to her should would have sent her straight into the clouds. Turning slowly towards the person that tapped her, she stared at Dan for a moment as though she didn’t recognize him. Her brown eyes stared wide and round—a rare sight. Often she had blue contacts in, or some other bizarre color. But those large, chocolate brown eyes were swimming in tears, still not taking notice completely. “She’s gone. She’s gone.” Her brows furrowed, her words garbled. But not like it mattered—her trembling lips probably looked mute to Dan. Not even on his best lip-reading day would he been able to decipher the quivering of her pierced, heart-shaped mouth.

All at once, she seemed to remember her friend’s disability and she stared at the whiteboard. Her hand went to her back pocket where she had felt her phone, before reaching up to her head. Her small hands framing her face, looking as though she were attempting to pull herself together. Her brows furrowed as her eyes closed. Focus. With a loud sniffle, she attempted to smile. But her lips didn’t even tilt upwards into her kittenish smirk.

N-O. She signed, moving her hands just slightly away from her face. She wanted to unload everything on him, but he couldn’t hear her. For a moment she was angry at him. Angry at him for something he couldn’t control, and she had to center herself again. She tried to remember the signs she practiced. Lately, she had been doing much better, often practicing with Dan or Channybaby to get them right. But now—everything she tried to remember just flew right out of her mind. The frustration caused her face to scrunch again, and though she was visibly straining to smile, she crumbled again. Frustration over not being able to talk to Dan, to even begin. She could tell him her grandmother died—simple as that. But everyone had grandmothers, and the nature of the beast was that they died. How could she convey that Trudy was her entire world? That now she really was an orphan? That all the hope Trudy would get better—was just flushed down the drain.

Her throat convulsed, and she nervously pulled her sleeves over her hands, tugging at the fabric, still staring at the board and marker that was being held out to her. She took it gingerly into her hands, her lips parting as her breath sped in and out of her mouth. Using the side of her sleeve she wiped his message and held the marker over the whiteboard. Her hands trembled, and she scribbled a few times, and erased a few times. Her boot slammed onto the grass, and she curled in on herself momentarily, frustration causing a new wave of tears to pour down her face.
Finally, in her bubbly, girly writing she spelled it out. My grandma died. I’m alone now.

Gerdy turned the board around, her fingers going white with the strain that she had on the marker and board. She stared at Dan with desperation in her eyes, like he could make everything better. Like he could bring her back, and they could go back to laughing, and listening to music, and practicing her ASL. She didn’t need to rain on his parade, ruin his #loverboyswag or distract him from his other friends. When Gerdy was with Dan, she tried to describe sounds to him in ways that made sense. It made her hear sounds richer, clearer. And even though he didn’t speak, everything was full of sound around him. But now, at this exact moment, she felt like she had been sucked into his silent world. She couldn’t focus on a single sound, so everything sounded silent. She couldn’t make her voice work—not that it mattered anyway.

Bracing the board in her elbow, she signed. Her trembling fingers making the motions, Only family I had. And she paused, her lips pressing into a thin line before a choked sob came out of her mouth, and her eyes nearly shut with the force of the tears that came forward again. Her hand clamped over her mouth, trying to force those emotions back down inside.

Outfit: Click Me
Words: 745
Notes: ANGST ANGST ANGST. c:

[DAN KAPLAN]

I didn’t know she had brown eyes. #Huh. He wasn’t sure what color he’d thought her eyes were. Probably like, blue, or something. He guessed it made sense that she usually wore colored contacts. #oneofthosepeople. Still, why would she not…well, what did he know. Crying and contact lenses probably weren’t a match made in heaven, exactly, now that he thought about it. #notp.

He’d barely had time to read her scribblings on the whiteboard when he saw that she was fingerspelling. He focused on her fingers to try to interpret the signs. #Crap, when had she gotten so good? He figured she was probably at the point where she could learn like, actual signs if she could find the time and inclination to do that. There were probably websites. He made a mental note to remind her later. Though for “No”, a simple like, shake of the head would have been just fine, he was pretty sure.

Dan, shut up. #notthetime.

He started to fingerspell back. ”W…h…a…t…” but was passed back the whiteboard. He’d never been able to get over how girly her handwriting was. It was like, totally not the handwriting he’d have pegged her with. Not that he was sexist or anything like—

Wait, her grandmother had died. Was he reading that correctly? #ofcourseyouare #youfuckingidiot. Her…her grandmother had actually died. Like, permanently.

Crap.

Dan had heard about this grandmother before. He knew how much she’d meant to Gerdy. Well, actually, he probably didn’t. He’d spent his whole life with two loving families, three in one and seven in the other. His mind shot to Chloe and Seth, how much he’d idolized them growing up, Andy, little Harley, and how instinctively protective he’d always been, his aunt and uncle and how grateful he was to them for giving him the opportunity to go to a school where he was normal and not that weird kid in the back with an interpreter, and he had absolutely no idea what it would be like to lose one of them. Not to mention all of them at once. He had no idea what that would feel like

But he did know what it felt like to be completely alone. And that shit sucked.

Of course, he still had no idea what to do. #idiot.

He’d always been terrible at this kind of thing. Was he supposed to hug her? Dan didn’t really do hugs, and he was pretty sure Gerdy didn’t either. Was there some like, virtual equivalent of a hug that he could text her? Oh, maybe one of those free hug Youtube videos! Wait, no, that was the stupidest idea ever #idiot. He couldn’t just send her a link to some video and expect that to be adequate consolation after her only family member had passed away.

I’m sorry, he wrote, resisting the instinctive urge to add hashtags. He placed an awkward hand on her shoulder, feeling like, literal waves of awkwardness washing through him. She’s he paused in a better place now.

#clichesftw.

Wow, he really sucked.