Day 12
Completed, done, dusted, no creativity for days. Thank you, goodbye,
On the twelfth day of Christmas...
twelve tries to let go, eleven unknowns, ten people listening, nine revealed secrets, eight busy bees, seven treasure chests, six unusual readings, five tall towers, four meals of note, three delightful sights, two locked doors, and the beginning of a journey. And a case of complete exhaustion.
Fandom: The Hobbit
Rating: PG
There were many times - oh so many times - when Bilbo Baggins tried to release the one ring. A walk one fine evening, as the sun descended behind one of the tallest hills in the shire, he felt the uncontrollable desire to be rid of the ring. His feet had taken him to the river and his hand went to his pocket; but even as he held it out over the tumbling currents he could not open his fist.
Another day, a cold one he distinctly remembered for even his thickly haired feet felt the chill of that day, he decided he would be rid of the ring. He had strode with purpose from Hobbiton, past the fields long harvested of their goods and sought out a deep knot of forest. He had pulled back his arm and tried many times to despatch the ring into the trees - but he could never release it.
Once he had deliberately dropped it into a passing hobbit's cart - gleeful that he was finally rid of the accursed jewellry; but when he scurried back into his home he heard a tiny clang and looked down to find it between his feet on the floor, apparently fallen from his pocket.
'Now I am finally free of it', he thought as he walked purposefully from Hobbiton, but with each step he took he could feel it's pull at his back, clawing at him to turn back and snatch the ring from Frodo's possession.
Fandom: Elementary
Rating: PG-13
Sherlock switched off the light at the top of the stairs and stood - back rigid and listened to the sounds of the house creaking. He switched his attention to his breathing before finally, perhaps inevitably, he turned his thoughts to Moriarty.
More than drugs - although Watson would claim the two subjects were intimately linked - did Moriarty occupy Sherlock's mind; and he often wondered whether it were she that were his true addiction.
He had believed her dead for years and still she had kept that small part of his brain as her own - now he knew she was alive, the effect was near intoxicating.
He heard Watson scrape a chair in her room and he was brought back to the moment, relieved that she had not stepped outside her door and discovered him stood in a state of stupor. He straightened his suit jacket and took down the stairs quickly, reawoken by Watson's movement and intent on refocusing his efforts on the latest assignment.
For if Moriarty were Sherlock's heroine - then Watson was surely the treatment.
Fandom: Assassins Creed
Rating: PG
Desmond's hand closed on the stone decoration atop the wall column and he hauled himself upwards to perch on top of it. He shivered against the night's chill and slowly scanned the hillside, the road beneath him, and as far as he could strain his eyes.
Nothing moved beneath him. No sound reached his ears.
If he jumped down, outside the city wall, he would be long gone before any of the others knew he had even woken. He could escape this life that he feared would leave him dead before his time and run; take a new identity and a new job and never again have to enter into a chamber of memory recall to run in the virtual footsteps of his ancestors.
He rocked forward, arms braced to launch himself out into the countryside but a great weight held him back. He took a deep breath and thought once more of the assassins and the templars, of his part to play in what could otherwise cause harm to hundreds and thousands of innocent people...
Desmond turned and, with one final glance at his potential freedom, jumped back inside the city wall.
Fandom: Malory Towers
Rating: PG-13
Sally was only just awake when she felt the gentle graze of Darrell's fingertips across the scar on her abdomen. The appendectomy was more that seven years past now, but Darrell's preoccupation with it had never truly passed.
The first time Sally had changed in front of Darrell since the surgery, she had snatched a glimmer in Darrell's eyes that she didn't understand at the time. As years passed, and as she caught Darrell's eye fall on the scar more times, Sally began to understand the look.
Guilt.
Self-hatred.
Shame.
She wanted to broach the subject with Darrell, but her friend was very good at leaving when she knew she had been caught staring and by the time Sally found her again it didn't seem right to spoil the mood with such a dark question.
Sally had decided, shortly after they had deepened their relationship, that the next time she saw evidence of Darrell's preoccupation she would question it. So she began to roll over, ready to tell Darrell that it wasn't her fault, that she needed to let go of whatever it was inside her that kept making that look appear in her eyes.
But Darrell was up and out of bed before Sally could start speaking, and by the time she composed herself, Darrell was in the bathroom and the shower was running.
'Next time', Sally lay back on the bed with a sigh.
Fandom: Portal
Rating: PG-13
For versipellis, hope you enjoy.
It didn't seem right to just throw it away.
Chell clutched the companion cube closer to herself and looked around, peered into every corner she could see until she was satisfied that there was nothing watching her. She held the cube out to look it up and down.
It hadn't been talking to her - she knew that. That had just been tiredness, the stress from all these trials, and the effect of that robot running this hell.
It hadn't been a voice she had recognised though...were humans capable of imagining completely new voices?
Chell shook herself of the ridiculous thoughts, but held the companion cube close again. It didn't talk to her. The only think talking to her was that bloody robot. It was messing with her mind.
Or was the cube messing with her mind? Perhaps it was a trap lain by GLaDOS.
Chell pushed the cube away from her and watched as it fell backwards with an uneventful thud.
She stared.
This was ridiculous. She crawled out from her hiding place and snatched up the companion cube, then threw it into the disposal unit as hard as she could. It was just a cube.
That didn't stop her feeling guilty though.
Fandom: Bully
Rating: PG
Jimmy changed into his lounge pants and vest, offered Pete a tight smile and got into bed. Having Pete move into his room at the dorm wasn't such a bad thing, Jimmy had to concede, for a start it was nice having a friend around. But it certainly came with its problems.
Like how long was it going to be before Pete realised that Jimmy stayed away until all hours of the morning, staring into space as he was troubled by his thoughts. Pete had asked him before why he did things like sneak out of school and into town in the night; but rather than admit that it kept him from his own mind, Jimmy just liked to grin and act like it was all for the risk and the fun.
He was hardly going to tell Pete that otherwise he would sit on his bed and wonder why his own mother had thrown him aside like dirt whenever a new man appeared on the scene; that he wondered why he couldn't remember his father and what he did that was so wrong that the man had left. What sort of man doesn't want to know his own son?
He tried to tell himself he was better off without them, in some unreal twist of fate he was happier at Bullsworth than he had been anywhere else.
That was probably down to Pete.
Jimmy risked a glance at his new room-mate, already fast asleep.
Maybe telling him wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Fandom: Malory Towers
Rating: PG
“I do wish you wouldn't do this”, Darrell's voice came from above her and Sally looked up sharply to where her friend stood, leant against the trunk of the tree Sally had taken refuge behind. Unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't come out as hideously childish or petulant, Sally resorted to silence as Darrell sat down next to her on the grass.
“I know she can be a pain sometimes”, Darrell continued, “but she's my friend. Same as you. I can have other friends Sally.” Sally felt the hot flush over her neck and cheeks at Darrell's words, still at a loss for words that wouldn't make her sound a fool. She didn't want to be the same sort of friend with Darrell as Alicia was. Truthfully, Sally still wasn't sure what she wanted from Darrell - but it felt rather more than simple friendship should. Not that she could tell Darrell that.
“You're not still worried I'll throw you over for her are you?”, Darrell's voice was softer now, and Sally knew she was concerned, but she still couldn't get her voice to work how she wanted it to, “You know that no-one will replace you, don't you?”.
Sally had to scrub away the tear that escaped and run down her cheek, but not in time to avoid Darrell seeing it. Darrell put her arm around Sally and bundled her into a hug.
It wasn't quite the truth, but it was something close to it, and for now, Sally decided, that would do.
Fandom: Bioshock
Rating: PG-13
A man liked to believe he was in control, and Jack knew he was no different.
If he couldn't control the world, and he couldn't always control the path his life took, he liked to think that at least he could control his choices.
Seems that in Rapture - a man can't even have that.
He has tried to resist, tried to let go of the pull that grasps him whenever he hears those words; but for all his efforts and strength, his body does what his mind is trying to prevent.
And as he hit Andrew Ryan, again and again, with those words 'Would you kindly', ringing in his ears, Jack cursed himself over and over.
He was not in control.
Fandom: Assassins Creed
Rating: PG
Connor had let go of so many things already.
He had let go of his name, abandoning Ratonhnhakéton for something that other men would accept.
He had let go of his home, given no choice but to leave when he joined the Creed.
He had even had to let go of his heritage in order to blend in with the world he needed to inhabit.
But he would not let go of his rage, of the desire to avenge his mother and to see his father dead. Even in death he would hold them close.
Fandom: Gears of War
Rating: PG
Cole dropped his head into his hands and fell silent as the King Raven helicopter drew closer to his hometown.
They had won. The war was won. Cole was going home.
It didn't seem right though. He knew there would be a welcome home party waiting for him, the other people from his hometown having flocked back to Hanover as soon as world got out that the locust were no more. They would cheer as he set foot on the ground and he would give them the Cole Train they had turned out to see. Then he would stay and help them rebuild.
But it just didn't seem right.
He didn't feel like a hero.
His brother and his sister would be there, they'd be waiting for him to come home and be strong. But it was too late to show his mom that he'd kept his promise to come home.
Cole buried his head in his hands so the others wouldn't see his tears.
Fandom: Final Fantasy 13
Rating: PG
“Feeling guilty won't help Serah now”, Lighting pushed Snow out of her face and turned to walk away, to continue their mission.
“Did you ever feel guilty?”, Snow called after her, “Did it ever both you, rejecting her like that, turning your back on her?”. Lightning kept walking, tried to ignore Snow's calls, tried to keep the feelings that he accused her of not having from overwhelming her and driving her to her knees in defeat.
“She worshipped you, and as soon as she was in trouble, you let her down”, she could hear Snow's voice getting louder behind her as he chased her down, “this is all your fault Lightning, and you won't even feel guilty about doing it.”
Lightning didn't remember hitting Snow, although Hope informed her that she most certainly did, and hard.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
“Buffy? Buffy?”, Willow appeared from around the corner and let out a sigh, “There you are, we've been looking for you. Are you about packed?”
Buffy waved her hand over the single small piece of hand-luggage but made no effort to move away from the window.
“Huh...probably need to do some clothes shopping once we hit England”, Willow offered with a weak smile.
“Not sure retail therapy is the answer to this one Will”, Buffy couldn't even muster a similar smile in return.
“Any idea what is the answer?”, Willow asked, and she took a few steps closer to Buffy.
“Nada”. There was a pained silence that was finally broken when Willow wrapped her arms around Buffy, tighter than the slayer could have imagined the other woman could have managed.
“What's this about?”, Buffy murmured as she returned the tight embrace.
“I wish I knew how to make things better for you Buff”, Willow mumbled against her shoulder and Buffy didn't have to force the smile that pulled at her lips.
“You kinda already do”, another moment passed and then Willow pulled away. For a second, Buffy saw past the pain that had matured Willow, had matured them all, and saw the shy teenager she had met all those years ago.
What would Willow's...Xander's lives be like if Buffy had never come into them?
“You ready to go?”, Willow broke her thoughts and Buffy spared one last glance out the window.
“Yeah, sure. Let's go”.