Fanfic: Dog (WIP)
Series: Watchmen
Characters: Walter, Sylvia, (others later?)
Pairings: -
Rating: Heck if I know. PG13 for serious mental fuckery, I suppose
Summary: When in doubt of your own mothering skills, raise it as you would a pet.
Warnings: Junk I keep wanting to write when I never have time to write it. Like when I'm at work. Or right now, when I should be getting ready for work. So it's un-beta'd, shortish, ablahblah, and grim
--+
"Sit." she tells him in a firm voice.
He does, promptly. Like always.
This earns him a kind of approving smile, and a pat on the head. Pleased affection backed by timidity sparks in his brown eyes. If he had a tail, he'd wag it, poor thing.
"Now stay," Sylvia tells him. "Stay right there 'til I get back."
He doesn't say anything to confirm that he's understood, but when she heads for the door, Walter sits rigidly where she's left him. She can tell he wants to follow her, but is also desperate to please. It's almost endearing, and she thinks that she might buy him a treat on her way back home. Maybe some toffee. He'll have it if he's still in his place on the couch.
"Stay there," she reminds him. And then she's gone.
Hands gripping white-knuckled on his knees, he watches her leave the apartment. Bare toes curl against the dingy carpet as the door clicks shut. Crooked teeth, -a few missing where the last of his baby teeth have finally fallen out- knaw at the edge of his bottom lip.
Unable to fully process the anxiety (and freedom) he feels when she leaves, Walter tenses, fidgets, and tried to vocalize the emotion.
The high keening from his throat isn't quite like crying or moaning, but more a dismayed whimper.
~
TBC
Characters: Walter, Sylvia, (others later?)
Pairings: -
Rating: Heck if I know. PG13 for serious mental fuckery, I suppose
Summary: When in doubt of your own mothering skills, raise it as you would a pet.
Warnings: Junk I keep wanting to write when I never have time to write it. Like when I'm at work. Or right now, when I should be getting ready for work. So it's un-beta'd, shortish, ablahblah, and grim
--+
"Sit." she tells him in a firm voice.
He does, promptly. Like always.
This earns him a kind of approving smile, and a pat on the head. Pleased affection backed by timidity sparks in his brown eyes. If he had a tail, he'd wag it, poor thing.
"Now stay," Sylvia tells him. "Stay right there 'til I get back."
He doesn't say anything to confirm that he's understood, but when she heads for the door, Walter sits rigidly where she's left him. She can tell he wants to follow her, but is also desperate to please. It's almost endearing, and she thinks that she might buy him a treat on her way back home. Maybe some toffee. He'll have it if he's still in his place on the couch.
"Stay there," she reminds him. And then she's gone.
Hands gripping white-knuckled on his knees, he watches her leave the apartment. Bare toes curl against the dingy carpet as the door clicks shut. Crooked teeth, -a few missing where the last of his baby teeth have finally fallen out- knaw at the edge of his bottom lip.
Unable to fully process the anxiety (and freedom) he feels when she leaves, Walter tenses, fidgets, and tried to vocalize the emotion.
The high keening from his throat isn't quite like crying or moaning, but more a dismayed whimper.
~
TBC