Another random drabble-ish thing
Ha! Songfic! I'm not too proud of it... I don't think it really fits the song, but I've been wanting to do songfic so... here it is. It's to the song Bitter by 12 Stones, who is a new favorite band of mine. The story idea really started with the line "Mother, mother" right at the beginning, so just keep that in mind.
Title: Back Home
Fandom: Heroes (Season 2, spoilers about Adam's identity, if anyone actually cares.)
Characters: Adam, again. (He's sitting in my head, being emo and talking with my muse. >_<) (... Emily'd rather have him in my lap. >_> *cough*)
Rating: G, though there is angst and insanity (but not the silly!insanity, more like the medical kind)
Summary: Adam's thoughts about certain people in his life, and conversations with them... kinda.
Mother, mother, can you hear me?
I keep trying just to find me,
All I know now, all you show me,
Endless questions, hopeless ending.
He sat there, studying the cold rock in front of him, pants and coat soaking up the early morning dew from the grass, though he paid this no mind. Reaching out, he ran his fingers over the letters that had been engraved there so long ago. Now no one would recognize the name of the woman buried here, but Adam Monroe did.
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end, will I be okay?
“How have you been?” He asked the stone, and nodded, as if getting a response. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back here for a while. I got busy.” Then he laughed. “Yeah, I know. I have all the time in the world, don’t I have enough time to come back and visit my mother every once in a while?” He shifted so he could hug his knees, and sat there looking at the headstone. “I’m sorry, mum. You always meant the world to me.”
He sat there for an hour, listening, staring, sometimes talking, but eventually he bade the stone goodbye, and got up, leaving behind a bouquet of lilies.
Father, father, will you be there,
As I cry out silent again?
Turning colder, frozen deeper,
Numb to this dream, sleeping within.
“Hello, dad,” Adam said, leaning against a headstone not far from the other. “I’m sorry I haven’t come back to visit you and mum in a couple of decades. Some people, ones I once trusted, locked me up, and I couldn’t get away.”
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end will I be okay?
“I know, I know. I’m not making excuses. I’m just explaining. I know I always say that, but it’s true. I just wanted to let you know.” Adam’s mouth twitched up in a half-grin, and he continued, “It’s really been interesting, lately. I’ve met more people who can do things, who are different, like me. Well, not exactly like me, but similar. Actually, I’ve heard that there’s a girl with my same ability. I wonder what she’s like.”
Before I face another day,
Won't you let me stay asleep?
Lost among the dreams that always comfort me,
Suddenly, Adam’s watch beeped, and he glanced down. “Ah, six o’clock. I better head out, father. Don’t want to miss my flight.” Adam grinned. “I know, I’m always busy. But I’ll be back. This time it won’t take me thirty years.” A momentary pause. “You can count on me.”
Leaning down, Adam stuck a gold coin - a rare coin that he had found during his travels - into the soft earth below the headstone. “Here’s a gift. I know how you always liked interesting coins. I gave mum some lilies for you, so don’t you worry about her.” Adam gave the stone a loving pat, and turned away, pulling his hat down as the cold air of the London cemetery threatened to sweep it off his head.
And before I find my feet,
Won't you show me what I need?
What I need to walk again?
Adam Monroe had things to do, and places to be. He had a friend to meet up with, and - if he gauged things correctly - to help him recover his memory. Peter was going to be of great help to Adam in his plan. They would be Heroes, and Takezo Kensei would finally be a true hero, not one fabricated by another man in a borrowed outfit and a girl with no sense and an over-active imagination.
Kensei could only hope that Hiro, his friend, his rival, the source of everything that mattered to him since his parents had been killed in a fire, would hear the story, and know him for a hero.
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end will I be okay?
Will I be okay?
Never again.
Never again.
Never again, again, again, again…
Title: Back Home
Fandom: Heroes (Season 2, spoilers about Adam's identity, if anyone actually cares.)
Characters: Adam, again. (He's sitting in my head, being emo and talking with my muse. >_<) (... Emily'd rather have him in my lap. >_> *cough*)
Rating: G, though there is angst and insanity (but not the silly!insanity, more like the medical kind)
Summary: Adam's thoughts about certain people in his life, and conversations with them... kinda.
Mother, mother, can you hear me?
I keep trying just to find me,
All I know now, all you show me,
Endless questions, hopeless ending.
He sat there, studying the cold rock in front of him, pants and coat soaking up the early morning dew from the grass, though he paid this no mind. Reaching out, he ran his fingers over the letters that had been engraved there so long ago. Now no one would recognize the name of the woman buried here, but Adam Monroe did.
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end, will I be okay?
“How have you been?” He asked the stone, and nodded, as if getting a response. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back here for a while. I got busy.” Then he laughed. “Yeah, I know. I have all the time in the world, don’t I have enough time to come back and visit my mother every once in a while?” He shifted so he could hug his knees, and sat there looking at the headstone. “I’m sorry, mum. You always meant the world to me.”
He sat there for an hour, listening, staring, sometimes talking, but eventually he bade the stone goodbye, and got up, leaving behind a bouquet of lilies.
Father, father, will you be there,
As I cry out silent again?
Turning colder, frozen deeper,
Numb to this dream, sleeping within.
“Hello, dad,” Adam said, leaning against a headstone not far from the other. “I’m sorry I haven’t come back to visit you and mum in a couple of decades. Some people, ones I once trusted, locked me up, and I couldn’t get away.”
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end will I be okay?
“I know, I know. I’m not making excuses. I’m just explaining. I know I always say that, but it’s true. I just wanted to let you know.” Adam’s mouth twitched up in a half-grin, and he continued, “It’s really been interesting, lately. I’ve met more people who can do things, who are different, like me. Well, not exactly like me, but similar. Actually, I’ve heard that there’s a girl with my same ability. I wonder what she’s like.”
Before I face another day,
Won't you let me stay asleep?
Lost among the dreams that always comfort me,
Suddenly, Adam’s watch beeped, and he glanced down. “Ah, six o’clock. I better head out, father. Don’t want to miss my flight.” Adam grinned. “I know, I’m always busy. But I’ll be back. This time it won’t take me thirty years.” A momentary pause. “You can count on me.”
Leaning down, Adam stuck a gold coin - a rare coin that he had found during his travels - into the soft earth below the headstone. “Here’s a gift. I know how you always liked interesting coins. I gave mum some lilies for you, so don’t you worry about her.” Adam gave the stone a loving pat, and turned away, pulling his hat down as the cold air of the London cemetery threatened to sweep it off his head.
And before I find my feet,
Won't you show me what I need?
What I need to walk again?
Adam Monroe had things to do, and places to be. He had a friend to meet up with, and - if he gauged things correctly - to help him recover his memory. Peter was going to be of great help to Adam in his plan. They would be Heroes, and Takezo Kensei would finally be a true hero, not one fabricated by another man in a borrowed outfit and a girl with no sense and an over-active imagination.
Kensei could only hope that Hiro, his friend, his rival, the source of everything that mattered to him since his parents had been killed in a fire, would hear the story, and know him for a hero.
This bitter pill is pushing me away,
And now I feel like there's nothing left to say,
And I pretend to look the other way,
But in the end will I be okay?
Will I be okay?
Never again.
Never again.
Never again, again, again, again…