Belong - an adopted by Hamilton fanfic [Hamilton]

51. To keep: it quiet

"Cars. There were so many cars around. And I just froze? Like, you're not supposed to do that, are you? Am I dead inside, or what?-", I rambled. I think I hadn't let him have a word for about 5 minutes, and during those five minutes my routines and ticks had effectively gone up with 500%. And he was the one calling me, not the other way around.

I was panicking, to say the least. No one was home, except for Tobi who looked at me worriedly every time I went about to do it all again.
Checking whether everything's off, the kettle, the oven. Then, whether the door's locked - to then, find myself thinking that do it again, you've got more responsibilities now, Ruth Miranda.
I think I'd tapped the walls over a thousand times since I woke up this morning. An inset day, where all classes were cancelled, so I'd effectively booked an appointment with dr Noma this morning - bright and early.

I'd been bombarded with questions about how I felt about the shooting on April Fool's day.
Suddenly, I was stuck in a room - and had to answer all of them, after avoiding any conversation involving the incident for almost two weeks.

Going out of there, I was shaking. Shaking from the effort of looking happy and truthful, when actually I was miserable and lying to her. The people on the subway looked at me twice, debating whether I was sick or had some kind of drug abstinence.

It was almost lunch now, as I was on the phone to Carson, potentially freaking out. Maybe because of the session. Maybe because of being a Miranda now. Maybe I was just bad today. Maybe it was because that my antidepressants were almost out.

Drug abstinence, my logical head echoed back at me. You shouldn't take 5 a day.
You need to get new ones or you'll be in everyone's way, my non-logical part screamed.

One left. I'd tried to pick up a new packet, but I'd been declined that morning - saying that I had to have a receipt and that mine was out. But, I could buy another medication. Frankly, my mind thought - it had to be the same.
The same. Always.

And I was rambling to Carson about everything. Everything.

I paused. And I realised.

"Cars, sorry, I-I... shouldn't have called", I said, starting to panic even more. "What was it that you wanted?"

Ignore this. Please, Carson. Ignore me.

"Are you alright, Rue?", he said with a worried tone.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Ventilating my morning onto you, that's all. Now, you", I replied, at least trying to sound sane.
Out of breath.
"Um. I was on my way to the vet with Gideon, but I'm like there now-"
You didn't let him speak. You used up his time.
Recheck and redo all.
Hang up.
"Oh, sorry. I need to go too"
He sounded almost confused by my bluntness.
"Okay... see ya tomorrow?", Carson told me, but all I could hear was someone not wanting to speak with me.
"Bye!", I said, sounding overwhelmingly happy, too happy to actually be happy.
And so the line was closed.
Quiet.
And I was alone again.

I eyed the clock on the wall, and I then remembered Vanessa's schedule for me - the times that I should eat. I'd forgotten - or more truthfully, I'd prioritised routines over eating - once or twice, when I was really bad.

Rue's schedule
Don't forget to eat!
8.00 - Breakfast
12.00 - Lunch
18.00 - Dinner

It's 12.30. Make lunch or something will go wrong. You're late.

It didn't take much. Stressfully, I started to find my ways in the cabinets, trying to put together a sandwich.
I could feel the rest of the routines building up in the back of my head as I changed up the order of the kitchen.