helsinkibaby (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
helsinkibaby) wrote2014-07-27 09:09 pm
helsinkibaby) wrote2014-07-27 09:09 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: when life throws you scraps... (The Following, Mike/Debra)
Title: when life throws you scraps...
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: The Following
Pairing: Debra Parker/Mike Weston
Spoilers: AU for the end of season one,
Word Count: 640
Notes: for the "knitting" square on my cotton candy bingo round 2 card.
Summary: "When life throws you scraps, make a quilt." Or, one way Debra got over the woods.
"Honey, I'm home!"
Those words are, as always, the first thing Mike says when he opens the door, have been for well over a year now. It started off as a preventative measure - Debra, being nervous of every new and unexpected sound, would get a fright when she heard the door opening even if she's been expecting him back. Calling out a greeting like that had been his way of getting her to smile about it, his way of letting her know that he understood where she was coming from and he'd do whatever it took to make her feel better. Now they're just a habit, something that he does without thinking, something which amuses his friends to no end when they arrive home with him.
But it still makes Debra smile and that's all that matters.
"In here," Debra calls back and he drops his go-bag beside the stairs as he hangs up his keys beside the door. Making his way into the living room, he smiles as he hears the familiar click of knitting needles and he has a quick bet with himself that Debra won't even look up when he walks in.
That clicking sound has become a constant in their lives over the last year. The tremors that had begun as a result of oxygen deprivation hadn't faded like the doctors had said they would and after repeated scans and consultations had shown no reason that they should be there, the doctors had all come to the same conclusion - a psychosomatic reaction to trauma. They'd suggested therapy, which hadn't helped until Debra's therapist had suggested taking up a hobby to keep her hands active. Debra had remembered learning to knit as a child, remembered enjoying it and the rest was history.
Not that there hadn't been some bumps along the road - there have been more than a few curse words and dropped stitches and the first jumper she made Mike would have comfortably fit three of him. But she had persevered and when she'd presented his niece at Christmas with a knitted doll of her favourite floppy haired singer, it was hard to tell which of the two of them was more delighted- the child with the doll or Debra with her reaction.
When Mike walks into the living room now, her gaze is on her knitting but she looks up when he enters, thereby losing him his bet. She smiles as he drops down onto the couch beside her and he leans in, presses a kiss to her lips. "Welcome home," she says. "How was Baltimore?"
He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Local PD made our lives hard, nothing new there," he says. "But it was ok." He flicks at the ball of lemon wool on the couch, knowing better to go anywhere near the needles or work in progress. "What're you making this time?"
Debra looks down, bites her lip. "It's the second of these," she says quietly, reaching over and taking out something from beside her.
Mike tilts his head to see it better and frowns when she holds it up. It's a white cardigan, one of the tiniest he's ever seen, with a vee shaped neck and tiny buttons in the shape of flowers stitched onto it.
His frown deepens as he realises what it is, then his eyes widen as the implication hits him.
"Deb?"
It's all he can say as he looks into her eyes, searching for an answer.
It's more than she can say because her eyes are sparkling with tears and all she can do is nod as she smiles happily at him.
"Yeah?" He laughs with delight, thrilled at the news and he pulls her into a hug and kisses her.
The knitting falls to the floor between them and for once she doesn't complain.
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: The Following
Pairing: Debra Parker/Mike Weston
Spoilers: AU for the end of season one,
Word Count: 640
Notes: for the "knitting" square on my cotton candy bingo round 2 card.
Summary: "When life throws you scraps, make a quilt." Or, one way Debra got over the woods.
"Honey, I'm home!"
Those words are, as always, the first thing Mike says when he opens the door, have been for well over a year now. It started off as a preventative measure - Debra, being nervous of every new and unexpected sound, would get a fright when she heard the door opening even if she's been expecting him back. Calling out a greeting like that had been his way of getting her to smile about it, his way of letting her know that he understood where she was coming from and he'd do whatever it took to make her feel better. Now they're just a habit, something that he does without thinking, something which amuses his friends to no end when they arrive home with him.
But it still makes Debra smile and that's all that matters.
"In here," Debra calls back and he drops his go-bag beside the stairs as he hangs up his keys beside the door. Making his way into the living room, he smiles as he hears the familiar click of knitting needles and he has a quick bet with himself that Debra won't even look up when he walks in.
That clicking sound has become a constant in their lives over the last year. The tremors that had begun as a result of oxygen deprivation hadn't faded like the doctors had said they would and after repeated scans and consultations had shown no reason that they should be there, the doctors had all come to the same conclusion - a psychosomatic reaction to trauma. They'd suggested therapy, which hadn't helped until Debra's therapist had suggested taking up a hobby to keep her hands active. Debra had remembered learning to knit as a child, remembered enjoying it and the rest was history.
Not that there hadn't been some bumps along the road - there have been more than a few curse words and dropped stitches and the first jumper she made Mike would have comfortably fit three of him. But she had persevered and when she'd presented his niece at Christmas with a knitted doll of her favourite floppy haired singer, it was hard to tell which of the two of them was more delighted- the child with the doll or Debra with her reaction.
When Mike walks into the living room now, her gaze is on her knitting but she looks up when he enters, thereby losing him his bet. She smiles as he drops down onto the couch beside her and he leans in, presses a kiss to her lips. "Welcome home," she says. "How was Baltimore?"
He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Local PD made our lives hard, nothing new there," he says. "But it was ok." He flicks at the ball of lemon wool on the couch, knowing better to go anywhere near the needles or work in progress. "What're you making this time?"
Debra looks down, bites her lip. "It's the second of these," she says quietly, reaching over and taking out something from beside her.
Mike tilts his head to see it better and frowns when she holds it up. It's a white cardigan, one of the tiniest he's ever seen, with a vee shaped neck and tiny buttons in the shape of flowers stitched onto it.
His frown deepens as he realises what it is, then his eyes widen as the implication hits him.
"Deb?"
It's all he can say as he looks into her eyes, searching for an answer.
It's more than she can say because her eyes are sparkling with tears and all she can do is nod as she smiles happily at him.
"Yeah?" He laughs with delight, thrilled at the news and he pulls her into a hug and kisses her.
The knitting falls to the floor between them and for once she doesn't complain.