Three ficlets (Heroes)
Feb. 13th, 2007 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosAll gen, all post-"Run".
*****
Title: Diamonds and Furs
The dog stops barking after a while, probably plotting some way to tear up her clothes or crap in her shoes or something. She has no idea how it got into her house and pictures swarms of fleas and strange stains on the carpet.
The girl, this stranger in her home, kneels in front of her and says that she is sick, but she looks away after she says it and it’s obvious she’s hiding something.
The dog bounds up, yapping loudly.
The urge to kick it away flashes through her, hot and confused and hateful.
“He won’t bite,” the girl says, scooping the dog into her arms. The girl gestures to a shelf full of a ribbons and trophies. “He’s a good dog, Mom. One of the best.”
The ratty little thing sniffs at her knee, reaching out a paw to nudge at her leg.
She flinches away from them, the girl and the dog, and if they both burst into tears she swears she won’t feel guilty.
*****
Title: Smoke and Mirrors
The worst is the echo.
It’s that everything echoes, conversations going on in double time on both sides of the veil. It’s the same thing in stereo, and the only thing that changes the expression on her face.
Nobody talks to Niki, not the way she’d like. When Micah hugs her, it’s an empty copy of him. When she makes love to D.L., the flesh she touches is cold as glass.
On the other side it’s warmer, not as gray.
When Jessica winks back at her from the other side of the veil, it feels like a punch to the gut. She’s not ready to admit it’s preferable to feeling nothing at all.
*****
Title: Sugar and Spice
For years Nathan marked her birthday, if only in his head. Pictured what he would give her … a pony when she asked, a car when she hadn’t. Savored the warm smile and the tight hug of an imaginary girl whose embrace haunted him.
He was made to have a daughter, he thinks. Daddy’s little girl.
He loves his kids and that’s not election-interview bullshit, but it’s life cosmic joke that he and Heidi have two boys and his little girl died before he could really get to know her.
And then.
Meredith sends the photo to his phone, because even if he didn’t ask for it she always did know him well at least some of the time. He keeps his phone well-hidden but sneaks peeks every once in a while at soft golden curls and sad eyes.
His chances in the election look better with every passing day and Peter finally turns up all self-righteous and noble and with a firm grasp of his abilities, and Nathan never thinks to delete the photo.
Never wants to. Couldn’t bring himself to if he tried.
The day before the election he walks into his office, sees Peter staring at his phone like he’s been hit by a truck. “Where’d you get a picture of her?”
“Her who?” Nathan says, but he’s never been good at playing dumb.
“The cheerleader,” Peter says.
“Claire,” Nathan blurts out.
The next thing he knows he can’t breathe, Peter’s hand warm on the back of his neck, and it doesn’t make sense.
The world shouldn’t come into sharper focus when you feel like you’re drowning.
*****
Title: Diamonds and Furs
The dog stops barking after a while, probably plotting some way to tear up her clothes or crap in her shoes or something. She has no idea how it got into her house and pictures swarms of fleas and strange stains on the carpet.
The girl, this stranger in her home, kneels in front of her and says that she is sick, but she looks away after she says it and it’s obvious she’s hiding something.
The dog bounds up, yapping loudly.
The urge to kick it away flashes through her, hot and confused and hateful.
“He won’t bite,” the girl says, scooping the dog into her arms. The girl gestures to a shelf full of a ribbons and trophies. “He’s a good dog, Mom. One of the best.”
The ratty little thing sniffs at her knee, reaching out a paw to nudge at her leg.
She flinches away from them, the girl and the dog, and if they both burst into tears she swears she won’t feel guilty.
*****
Title: Smoke and Mirrors
The worst is the echo.
It’s that everything echoes, conversations going on in double time on both sides of the veil. It’s the same thing in stereo, and the only thing that changes the expression on her face.
Nobody talks to Niki, not the way she’d like. When Micah hugs her, it’s an empty copy of him. When she makes love to D.L., the flesh she touches is cold as glass.
On the other side it’s warmer, not as gray.
When Jessica winks back at her from the other side of the veil, it feels like a punch to the gut. She’s not ready to admit it’s preferable to feeling nothing at all.
*****
Title: Sugar and Spice
For years Nathan marked her birthday, if only in his head. Pictured what he would give her … a pony when she asked, a car when she hadn’t. Savored the warm smile and the tight hug of an imaginary girl whose embrace haunted him.
He was made to have a daughter, he thinks. Daddy’s little girl.
He loves his kids and that’s not election-interview bullshit, but it’s life cosmic joke that he and Heidi have two boys and his little girl died before he could really get to know her.
And then.
Meredith sends the photo to his phone, because even if he didn’t ask for it she always did know him well at least some of the time. He keeps his phone well-hidden but sneaks peeks every once in a while at soft golden curls and sad eyes.
His chances in the election look better with every passing day and Peter finally turns up all self-righteous and noble and with a firm grasp of his abilities, and Nathan never thinks to delete the photo.
Never wants to. Couldn’t bring himself to if he tried.
The day before the election he walks into his office, sees Peter staring at his phone like he’s been hit by a truck. “Where’d you get a picture of her?”
“Her who?” Nathan says, but he’s never been good at playing dumb.
“The cheerleader,” Peter says.
“Claire,” Nathan blurts out.
The next thing he knows he can’t breathe, Peter’s hand warm on the back of his neck, and it doesn’t make sense.
The world shouldn’t come into sharper focus when you feel like you’re drowning.
