Turtles All The Way Down

by MalevolentSkies

Summary:

The dread in her stomach flooded her chest. She sat stagnant, staring at the television. Her breaths seemed distant. The rise and fall of her chest didn’t seem real. Nothing seemed real. Until it all did.

or
Following the plot of Swords into Ploughshares but with a little dash of romance and a slightly more dramatic reunion.

Notes:

• For crazychickinacorner.

I originally wrote it on Tumblr in response to a prompt. It was meant to be short, but here we are.
Hbg this one is for you.

 

(I definitely didn't forget the mother's name or anything.)

Laura was tired. She had just spent the evening with Matt’s girlfriend Chantel’s family. They were nice and she was happy for him. He seemed content and in love. Sure her parent’s seemed a bit dull, but she seemed like a lovely girl. She got through dinner with a smile on her face, but by the time the father had begun searching for another of his tapes of the village, the ascension of her eyes to the ceiling was imminent.
She was bored and she missed Rosemary, but she could bear one evening for her son. All thing’s considered, the evening was a decent one; and it could have stayed that way. All Chantel’s mother had to do, was stay silent. Something the woman seemed incapable of. Idle gossip. Small town drama. Fine. But then she had to go and bring up Nick. Nick and his thoughts of marriage.
She didn’t know what was worse, that he wanted to marry the woman he had an affair with, or that Matt knew. Matt knew, and he didn’t tell her.

---

She managed to keep her face calm in front of Matt, but she left shortly after that.
Arriving at the hotel room, she couldn’t help but feel the emptiness of it. Having to spend the night there bad enough, but after learning about Nick… She couldn’t help the barrage of redundant thoughts that echoed around inside of her. She could still see them lying there on that bed. The woman’s face breathing into her husband’s. A younger, prettier face than hers. She had left that night and never looked back. But she had.
She had played it all over and over again in her mind. Over a decade of marriage, two children and a whole life together down the drain. Back then she thought she had also lost love. Though now…
Now she knew that his quips about her working too much, about her not doing enough, about her not being enough, was utter hogwash. That’s not what love is supposed to be. She had gotten so lost in what her life was supposed to be, that she never paid attention to what she was missing. She had never paid attention to how alone she had felt.
She knew that. She knew all of that. And yet—
She shook her head and dabbed at the sorry tears that were escaping her.
She really wished that Rosemary was there.
Something in her ached as she settled onto the edge of the single bed. Lord knows she’d spent a lot of time in them, but she and Rosemary would always push the twin singles together. Looking over at the empty one across from her, sheets neatly folded as though waiting to be used, home felt a chasm away. Her hand picked up the television remote and she turned it on. Anything to drown out the litany of thoughts and cold press of silence.
A news channel came up, she didn’t pay it much attention but left it on as she started to unpack her nightwear. Her mind half followed along with the story as she opened her bag and started to slowly search through it, not in any particular rush to be left alone with her thoughts again. Her hands stilled when the word ‘murder’ reached her. She turned back to the television curiously, taking in the images of police cars and yellow tape. She sat back down at the edge of her bed and raised the volume.
The next few sentences passed by in a blur, drowned out by the faint buzzing in her ears. She only caught a few words, but it was enough.
—Horticulturist—

—Rosemary Boxer—

—Murdered—

The dread in her stomach flooded her chest. She sat stagnant, staring at the television. Her breaths seemed distant. The rise and fall of her chest didn’t seem real. Nothing seemed real. Until it all did.
Her breath came shortened, gasping. The weight of realisation crushed her. The thought of Rosemary. Lying there.Dea—
The buzzing intensified.

---

The day passed in a blur. She woke. She remembered. She hurt again in that distant way. Because the pain in her heart was too much. It was too heavy to lift.
She drove to the murder site. Spoke with the officials there. It was all matter of fact. Business like. She nodded when they gave their condolences.
A police officer was going to notify Rosemary’s mother. Laura went with him.

---

She told the officer to stay outside the house. She had to do this herself.
"Mrs Boxer?" She called out as she walked into the living room.
The clanking of dishes from the kitchen. Heels clacking against the floor.
"Yes?"
Laura turned, and faltered.
The woman's voice was warm, and her face crinkled into a kind smile. Everything about her exuded an air of welcome. She tried to swallow the hard lump that had worked its way up her throat.
She looked so much like Rosemary that it hurt.
She forced a smile on her face. Well, as much of a smile as she could manage.
"I'm Laura." She started.
The woman's face lit up in recognition. "Oh you must be Rosemary's Laura! I've heard so much about you dear. It's lovely to finally meet you."
Rosemary's Laura.
A sharp jolt of pain tore up her chest. She shifted and subtly reached her hand out to grip the armchair for support.
She didn't try to fix her face, but she straightened her shoulders and sucked in a heavy breath. She had done this so many times before. Notified loved ones of-
Of a loss.
What a small word that was. One that could hold so unfathomably much. Pain, grief, love.
Mrs Boxer was frowning now, watching her with worry.
"Are you alright dear? Would you like some tea? Some water? Rosemary will be down in a minute I'm sure-"
Laura shook her head.
"Mrs Boxer she isn't coming down."
Mrs Boxer opened her mouth to interrupt but Laura kept going. She needed to tell her.
"I'm afraid your daughter is dead."
Your daughter and my friend.
"What?" She looked lost. As if she didn't understand her. It was a common response. The confusion. But she had to press on.
"She was murdered last night." She said it as gently as she possibly could, but her words were firm. They had to be.
Her hand grazed her arm. A ghosting of comfort. Waiting, there if needed.
"I don't understand. She's not dead."
"It's quite a shock-"
Mrs Boxer's eyes had gone distant, looking past Laura.
"But she's right here.'
Laura gave a real smile, trying not to cry. "I’m sure she is. In this room. In our hearts. She's everywhere. She lives and breathes throu-"
"No. I mean she's right behind you."
Heart hammering in her chest, Laura turned.
Rosemary walked into the room, pink bathrobe around her, a hand fiddling with the towel wrapped round her head. She smiled when she saw Laura, though not looking at her properly, still trying to fix the towel.
"Do we have any more-" her voice. Light and ever so raspy, and so very much alive.
She smiled when she saw Laura, though not looking at her properly, still trying to fix the towel.
"Ah Laura! How was Matt? Did the visit go well?"
Silence.
She looked up. "Laur-"
Laura was staring at her, frozen. Her mouth slightly open, breaths coming sharp and shallow. And her eyes. They were red and raw. Tears were streaming down her face.
"Laura?"
Her jaw trembled. Her eyes looked like they'd seen a ghost.
"Rosemary?" She whispered, voice hoarse.
She looked unsteady.
Rosemary took a step forward, sharing a look of concern with her mother. "What's wron-"
Laura rushed forward and before she knew it, arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. She heard Laura sob into her shoulder. It was deep and guttural.
She had never seen her like this before.
Her arms instinctively came up to wrap around her. One arm around her back. The other came up to cradle her head.
"I thought you were dead." Laura said between sobs, nuzzling into her side. Her whole frame shook.
"What?"
"In the news. They said that you'd been murdered." Her words were muffled by Rosemary's shoulder.
Rosemary's hand rubbed circles into her back as she tried to soothe her. "It's alright. I'm here. It's alright."
She could feel Laura shake her head as she pulled back. "It was awful. All I could do was imagine your face-"she broke herself off with a cry.
Rosemary cupped her face, stroking her cheek softly. Wiping away the tears.
"I can't lose you." Her voice trembled. Eyes squeezing shut as she leaned into her hand. "I love you far too much."
Rosemary sucked in a sharp breath. Her other hand coming up to her other cheek .
"I love you too." She murmured. Pressing her forehead to Laura's. Making sure her presence was felt.
When she looked up, she saw Laura looking at her, with those red rimmed eyes that bled so much love something in her ached.
And before she knew it she was crying too.
And then they were laughing.
And then they were kissing.
She didn't know which one of them leaned in first, but both of them were pressing against each other. It was hungry, desperate. As if Laura was feeding all of her pain and terror for Rosemary into it, and Rosemary poured all of her love back.
Her lips were soft and salty from the tears.
When they broke apart, both of them were breathless. They leaned in, foreheads resting against each other again.
"I ought to be murdered everyday."
Laura thwacked her arm. "Don't even joke about that."
"I'll murder you myself if you do." She muttered, earning a light chuckle from Rosemary.
Laura couldn't help but smile back.
Coughing from the other side of the room made them both jump.
Laura sputtered. "Mrs Boxer!"
Rosemary looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"I'll fetch us some tea.' Was all she said before turning. Leaving behind a red in the face Laura and a startled Rosemary.
They both looked at each other.
Then burst out laughing.
Rosemary got to her feet and dusted herself off before extending a hand to Laura, helping her up.
Once standing, Rosemary flashed her a wicked grin. "I take it you'll be staying here?"
"If you'll have me."
Rosemary walked towards the kitchen, but stopped at the door-frame.
"The twins?" She tried to say nonchalantly.
Laura stopped next to her, pausing for a moment as if considering. Then she took one look at Rosemary.
"Nah."
She walked past her and into the kitchen, turning to look back at her. "I don't know about you, but I would kill for a cup of tea.'"
Rosemary beamed, looking at Laura before answering softly.
"I couldn't agree more."

Notes:

I really hope you liked it.
Comments and Kudos are always greatly appreciated.
Thanks for reading <3