Ficlet: Jeremiah
For fanfic100.
Title: In the Still of the Night
Fandom: Jeremiah
Characters: Mister Smith
Word Count: 213
Rating: G
Such a beautiful night. The stars were breathtaking; sparkling like bits of diamond set in deep purple velvet.
Mister Smith felt a pang of sadness as he wondered if Rose was looking up at the same night sky. He wondered, as he usually did at moments like this, when he would see her again. He longed to feel her small arms around him and the touch of her cheek against his.
But there were things he had to accomplish before he could go back to her, the task made all the more difficult because he rarely knew what was expected of him. Far better that she remain safe in her haven, away from the sharp eyes and madness that was Daniel.
It was virtually impossible to make and keep friends when your life was not your own. Hard to be loved and remembered when you passed through people's lives like a shadow. Would he ever be able to lay down his burden and live a normal life? To be a father. A friend. Settled and secure?
Not yet, said the Voice with a hint of apology.
Perhaps never.
"I know," said Smith with a sigh. His melancholy was his own. Everything else belonged to the Voice.
It was time to go to work.
Title: In the Still of the Night
Fandom: Jeremiah
Characters: Mister Smith
Word Count: 213
Rating: G
Such a beautiful night. The stars were breathtaking; sparkling like bits of diamond set in deep purple velvet.
Mister Smith felt a pang of sadness as he wondered if Rose was looking up at the same night sky. He wondered, as he usually did at moments like this, when he would see her again. He longed to feel her small arms around him and the touch of her cheek against his.
But there were things he had to accomplish before he could go back to her, the task made all the more difficult because he rarely knew what was expected of him. Far better that she remain safe in her haven, away from the sharp eyes and madness that was Daniel.
It was virtually impossible to make and keep friends when your life was not your own. Hard to be loved and remembered when you passed through people's lives like a shadow. Would he ever be able to lay down his burden and live a normal life? To be a father. A friend. Settled and secure?
Not yet, said the Voice with a hint of apology.
Perhaps never.
"I know," said Smith with a sigh. His melancholy was his own. Everything else belonged to the Voice.
It was time to go to work.