Narnia Preferences and Oneshots

Caspian Oneshot

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(A/N: Hey guys! I'm really excited about this one ^.^ It's sad, but it's a Caspian oneshot and I write one of those like every blue moon >.< Btw this is sorta the outcome of the fact that I've been too into Sherlock lately. You'll understand the parallels.  Remember to eat something, drink some water and take your meds! Love you!)

TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING THIS IS A POSSIBLY TRIGGERING ONESHOT PLEASE DO NOT READ IT IF IT COULD BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR HEALTH. THANK.

Modern Song Fic: Caspian's friend tries to commit suicide

Song: Tom Rosenthal's How Could I Not?

I don't know how your brain works.

But if I did, I might explode.

    

Caspian used to admire Y/N's mind. It was intricate and complex, difficult to understand but brilliant fun to try to.

He admired how her brain worked, how it took in information, data. She seemed to know everything, and if she didn't she pulled that front off with expertise.

He didn't understand how she could carry all of that information in her small head. She never looked intimidating, seeming more fragile than anything. He wondered if vulnerable was a better word to describe her.

He did his best. People were cruel, especially to those who were different, and he couldn't hide her from everything. It didn't seem to phase her. Nothing ever seemed to phase her, and it worried him more than he consciously let on.

Y/N carried herself with something, not confidence by any means, but a sort of stance that demanded respect, maybe to make up for the self respect she lacked.

She would go to any lengths to understand something, a habit that showed her want for knowledge was more important to her than the deterioration of her brain.

Even if I could

I don't think that I would want to decipher your series of codes

That's why the last place he expected to be was waiting for Y/N to get out of surgery after a deliberate overdose.

He didn't realize how far gone she was until it was too late. He didn't know that she was using, but he knew that he should have been able to figure it out, not matter how inferior his mind was to Y/N's. He should have seen the marks on her arm, the bloodshot eyes and spacey nights. He should have noticed the shaky hands and the never coming over for more than a few hours, for she couldn't last longer than that without a fix.

He tried to understand. Had she run out of the fuel that made her brain run that extra mile? Had she finally found that fuel, the thing she had desperately searched for for hours and smiled, knowing that with the amount she had, she could end it all? She could stop this slow burn, this temporary high that consumed her life and was good news for brain work at the time, but now none of it seemed worth it. Convinced that this way was easier, that her mind could never be as great as before, had she taken the plunge, sinking the fine needle into her wrist and pressing the piston down, pulling away with such haste afterward that the steel broke off into her now speckled skin?

When the doctor called her name, and only Caspian stood up, he wondered if the loneliness had contributed to the final decision.

He realized that he didn't want to understand as he walked through the sterile white hallways, the steely gazes of nurses and doctors who walked past him sending a numbness to his chest. They saw this everyday. They expected it, it's what kept them employed; other people's  mistakes, giving them something to do rather than sorting through files.

A lifetime of trouble

But how could I not love you?

Caspian thought of the issues Y/N would face after this. Would she be the same after this? Would she be okay in general? He expected that the overdose caused some sort of brain damage, but to what extent?

He feared the worst; that she wouldn't be able to care for herself, or be even more self loathing than she already was. That she would isolate herself to a point where she could slip back into the drugs and no one would notice, because no one would be there to notice. He feared she would push everyone out with that brilliant mind of hers and end up in the habits, but no one would be there to catch her when she fell over the edge.

Yeah, we humans, we crave a certain certainty

But no mystery ever got old.

Even seeing her there, vulnerable and fragile and effortless, he couldn't help but feel something. Something that he couldn't explain in any other sense than the fact that maybe she was his drug and some drugs help. Some drugs destroy you and burn you up from the inside, but others dull the pain of a bigger problem and ensure escape for the most restricted hostages.

Her mystery never seemed to end; she never failed to know something new. She was always getting into trouble, always giving Caspian something to do. He would give her that, at least. She never left him bored.

Watching her chest rise and fall and her heart monitor stay at a steady rate, he thanked God that she was still here, but prayed that she would be able to find her purpose. She needed a purpose, a place to use her brilliant brain and show off her skills. A place to be appreciated and applauded, because anyone not used to her thought process would surely have the breath knocked out of them.

Caspian would never have changed Y/N; no, that would be selfish. She deserved every skill and quirk that made her her, but a part of him wished she wasn't so flamboyant. He wished that she wanted something permanent, something certain. He wished she cared about something other than the mind, than the knowledge. He had made peace with the fact that knowledge is not the end-all-be-all of life long ago, but it seemed that Y/N had not come to that revelation.

A lifetime of troubles, but how could I not love you?

A lifetime of troubles, but how could I not love you?