Fic: Before the Dawn (1/1)
Title: Before the Dawn
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompts: 031. Sunrise
Word Count: 553
Rating: G
Summary: A phone call and his life had torn apart.
Author's note: A really angst piece, and also an attempt to play around with structure and narrative...
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
BEFORE THE DAWN
A phone call and his life had torn apart. A throaty voice, hoarse from unspeakable terrors, thick with tears. Gasping goodbye.
And with a click, the connection was dead.
***
It took a moment before realisation sunk in.
Then his stomach plummeted. His knuckles clenched. His body went cold.
***
Things went on automatic after that:
A quick call to the tech guys to trace the call.
A quick call to the boss to assemble the troops.
A desperate attempt to call her back.
***
No luck.
Phone was dead. GPS was gone. No one had seen her since last night. Just him.
And he’d yelled at her.
***
“If this is gonna work, you gotta stop.”
***
The guilt hit him hard.
It started with one bottle. Then another followed, and another until he woke up and realised it’d been a week.
A week of nothings. Of despair. Of anger. Of bargaining.
Stuck in the same house as before. Staring at the same four walls, same clutter, same emptiness, as before.
***
“I’m not the guy who sits around at home, waiting patiently while his wife’s off on some crazy danger trip and didn’t even have the decency to let him know!”
***
So many dead ends.
So many. If only…
***
“I’ve been through one ruined marriage already.” His voice is deathly quiet.
Her response is equally deathly.
“So we’re already ruined, is that it?”
***
If only…
…he could take it all back.
***
It’s not what he meant, but he doesn’t get a chance to explain. She slams the door behind her. He storms after her, but she’s already gone by the time he wrenches the front door open.
It’s cold outside. The darkness covers everything.
***
A sharp ring and the knife was twisted in his chest.
That gruesome, horrendous, withering thing called hope.
***
Six feet separated them - merely a fraction of the gorge hewn deeply between them.
The words stuck in his throat. His knuckles clenched. His body went cold.
She didn’t look at him. Her beautiful, bruised, battered face was turned away, her body curled into a foetal position beneath the hospital sheets.
She was crying. Silently, shoulders wracking, all alone in the world.
The knife twisted further, deeper, transforming hope into self-loathing.
***
“Don’t give up,” Tootsie told him. “It won’t be pretty, it won’t go smoothly, and there might be times when you want nothing more than to yell and break things, but so will she.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll need you, Steve. And if you need us…we’re here.”
They were.
***
And multiple walls torn down and rebuilt, bathroom tiles smashed to pieces, and three fully renovated rooms later, she finally slept in the same room as him again.
She was his wife again. A survivor.
Changed, but not diminished.
***
He drops a kiss on her neck, her body curled against his, snuggled tight, safe for now against a chaotic world. “I love you, Tess. So much.”
“I love you too.” She kisses his hands, his arms encircling her, and pulls him closer still. Needing the closeness.
As the sun rises behind the curtains, he can see her smile. After all that’s happened, that’s all he wants.
They can brave anything so long as those smiles remain.
FIN
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompts: 031. Sunrise
Word Count: 553
Rating: G
Summary: A phone call and his life had torn apart.
Author's note: A really angst piece, and also an attempt to play around with structure and narrative...
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
BEFORE THE DAWN
A phone call and his life had torn apart. A throaty voice, hoarse from unspeakable terrors, thick with tears. Gasping goodbye.
And with a click, the connection was dead.
***
It took a moment before realisation sunk in.
Then his stomach plummeted. His knuckles clenched. His body went cold.
***
Things went on automatic after that:
A quick call to the tech guys to trace the call.
A quick call to the boss to assemble the troops.
A desperate attempt to call her back.
***
No luck.
Phone was dead. GPS was gone. No one had seen her since last night. Just him.
And he’d yelled at her.
***
“If this is gonna work, you gotta stop.”
***
The guilt hit him hard.
It started with one bottle. Then another followed, and another until he woke up and realised it’d been a week.
A week of nothings. Of despair. Of anger. Of bargaining.
Stuck in the same house as before. Staring at the same four walls, same clutter, same emptiness, as before.
***
“I’m not the guy who sits around at home, waiting patiently while his wife’s off on some crazy danger trip and didn’t even have the decency to let him know!”
***
So many dead ends.
So many. If only…
***
“I’ve been through one ruined marriage already.” His voice is deathly quiet.
Her response is equally deathly.
“So we’re already ruined, is that it?”
***
If only…
…he could take it all back.
***
It’s not what he meant, but he doesn’t get a chance to explain. She slams the door behind her. He storms after her, but she’s already gone by the time he wrenches the front door open.
It’s cold outside. The darkness covers everything.
***
A sharp ring and the knife was twisted in his chest.
That gruesome, horrendous, withering thing called hope.
***
Six feet separated them - merely a fraction of the gorge hewn deeply between them.
The words stuck in his throat. His knuckles clenched. His body went cold.
She didn’t look at him. Her beautiful, bruised, battered face was turned away, her body curled into a foetal position beneath the hospital sheets.
She was crying. Silently, shoulders wracking, all alone in the world.
The knife twisted further, deeper, transforming hope into self-loathing.
***
“Don’t give up,” Tootsie told him. “It won’t be pretty, it won’t go smoothly, and there might be times when you want nothing more than to yell and break things, but so will she.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll need you, Steve. And if you need us…we’re here.”
They were.
***
And multiple walls torn down and rebuilt, bathroom tiles smashed to pieces, and three fully renovated rooms later, she finally slept in the same room as him again.
She was his wife again. A survivor.
Changed, but not diminished.
***
He drops a kiss on her neck, her body curled against his, snuggled tight, safe for now against a chaotic world. “I love you, Tess. So much.”
“I love you too.” She kisses his hands, his arms encircling her, and pulls him closer still. Needing the closeness.
As the sun rises behind the curtains, he can see her smile. After all that’s happened, that’s all he wants.
They can brave anything so long as those smiles remain.
FIN