In which I am not dead, and there is another AU
H...hello. *cautious wave*
You may remember me. I was that chick who never wrote about anybody else's character. Well, I'm alive, and I've done it again!
Title: Front (1/?)
Author: omiscully
Summary: It's an AU. It's a World War I AU. YEAH I ORGASMED WHEN I THOUGHT OF IT TOO, SO DON'T FEEL BAD
Words: 500
Rating: PG, for this part
The night was silent. Robin was always unnerved by the streets nowadays. They were empty. Before the war began, they would always be speckled with hoodlums and kids trying to act tough. Now, a few papers scraped the street as the wind took them. It was always so cold now. He wondered if that had to do with the weather or with the empty tension of the city. It was nearing midnight. He could see light shining starkly behind curtains as families crowded by their radios, listening for news. "All quiet on the Western Front," the calm newscaster would repeat, night after night. The families could go to bed after hearing it. They didn't let themselves suspect it wasn't true.
A piece of paper whistled by and pinned itself to Robin's leg as he walked. He kicked it off. He knew what he would see if he looked at it, but he stopped and looked down in spite of himself. "YOU ARE THE MAN I WANT," said the cold-eyed general, finger advancing toward Robin, outfitted in patriotic British bloody red.
They were truly getting desperate now, he knew. It was not quiet on the Western Front. He knew because in his pocket was a creased, crumpled little letter politely requesting that he, an industrial worker they needed on the Home Front, report to the conscription office. The general's light eyes stared at him. "Well, you have what you want," said Robin. He slipped his hand into his pocket again and felt the greasy, wrinkled paper. It had come in the mail that morning. He had gone to work. He hadn't told anyone there, and he hadn't told Lillian.
He began walking again.
At home, Lillian was asleep. Robin sat on the end of the bed and began to untie his shoes.
"What time is it?" she murmured, as she did every night.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," said Robin, as he responded every night. He unbuttoned his shirt and got into bed. Her hand touched his shoulder before flinching away.
"You're frozen," she said.
"It's getting on winter," he said dully. The season would be advancing on the trenches, too. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad; after all, nobody had told him the details. If it was quiet all the time, maybe the sullen soldiers played cards and sipped bitter coffee and waited out the war in boredom.
"I wish you didn't have to stay at work so late," Lillian said. Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were open wide. He knew she wouldn't sleep again for a while.
"There aren't as many people, but the work has to get done." He looked at the ceiling. After a pause, he said, "I wish, too."
She didn't answer, but ran her warm fingers down his cold shoulder. Her body was mild and pleasant against his as they made love. When it was over and her head rested on his chest and her fingers made quiet circles on his stomach, he told her and was silent when she yelled and held her when she cried.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SMOKE!!!
You may remember me. I was that chick who never wrote about anybody else's character. Well, I'm alive, and I've done it again!
Title: Front (1/?)
Author: omiscully
Summary: It's an AU. It's a World War I AU. YEAH I ORGASMED WHEN I THOUGHT OF IT TOO, SO DON'T FEEL BAD
Words: 500
Rating: PG, for this part
The night was silent. Robin was always unnerved by the streets nowadays. They were empty. Before the war began, they would always be speckled with hoodlums and kids trying to act tough. Now, a few papers scraped the street as the wind took them. It was always so cold now. He wondered if that had to do with the weather or with the empty tension of the city. It was nearing midnight. He could see light shining starkly behind curtains as families crowded by their radios, listening for news. "All quiet on the Western Front," the calm newscaster would repeat, night after night. The families could go to bed after hearing it. They didn't let themselves suspect it wasn't true.
A piece of paper whistled by and pinned itself to Robin's leg as he walked. He kicked it off. He knew what he would see if he looked at it, but he stopped and looked down in spite of himself. "YOU ARE THE MAN I WANT," said the cold-eyed general, finger advancing toward Robin, outfitted in patriotic British bloody red.
They were truly getting desperate now, he knew. It was not quiet on the Western Front. He knew because in his pocket was a creased, crumpled little letter politely requesting that he, an industrial worker they needed on the Home Front, report to the conscription office. The general's light eyes stared at him. "Well, you have what you want," said Robin. He slipped his hand into his pocket again and felt the greasy, wrinkled paper. It had come in the mail that morning. He had gone to work. He hadn't told anyone there, and he hadn't told Lillian.
He began walking again.
At home, Lillian was asleep. Robin sat on the end of the bed and began to untie his shoes.
"What time is it?" she murmured, as she did every night.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," said Robin, as he responded every night. He unbuttoned his shirt and got into bed. Her hand touched his shoulder before flinching away.
"You're frozen," she said.
"It's getting on winter," he said dully. The season would be advancing on the trenches, too. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad; after all, nobody had told him the details. If it was quiet all the time, maybe the sullen soldiers played cards and sipped bitter coffee and waited out the war in boredom.
"I wish you didn't have to stay at work so late," Lillian said. Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were open wide. He knew she wouldn't sleep again for a while.
"There aren't as many people, but the work has to get done." He looked at the ceiling. After a pause, he said, "I wish, too."
She didn't answer, but ran her warm fingers down his cold shoulder. Her body was mild and pleasant against his as they made love. When it was over and her head rested on his chest and her fingers made quiet circles on his stomach, he told her and was silent when she yelled and held her when she cried.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SMOKE!!!