Armistice
Title: Armistice
Author: etgoddess
Fandom: Original Series
Pairing(s): OC/OC
Rating: T
Summary: You are not partners, you are opponents. There is only a thin line between love and hate, and you're dancing on it.
Author's Note: A one-shot related to my original Story of a Girl series. Music credit goes to Christina Aguilera's Cease Fire. Cross-posted to Fiction Press.
It’s a battle
(God and you’re so tired of fighting)
but you don’t know how to give up, how to walk away
You only know persistence to the bitter, bloody, battered end
Your words are bullets
(silver, hollow point, large caliber)
designed to destroy
Your mouth is the gun,
You hold the atom bomb in your hand
And you threaten, you warn, you promise
(I’ll drop it and ruin us both)
It’s a war
(and it’s a marathon and you’re still at it)
and you don’t want to anymore
(your knees are bloodied and your nails are ragged and your palms are torn)
You’re not even sure what you’re fighting for anymore because there’s nothing left
(nothing to salvage, repair, repurpose)
There was nothing there to being with and you shouldn’t miss what you never had
And you think you spend most of your time just fighting for peace
(with him, with yourself)
struggling to find a respite from the arguing, a vacation from the sniping, a haven from the hurricane in your head that is poisoning everything around you
(your rationality is shot, your judgment is faulty, and you don’t have it tonight)
The emotional fortitude to spar with him.
There’s got to be a better way
(you don’t expect him to stand next to you, but you need him to stand with you because he has to be exhausted too, he has to be, it’s been so long)
You just need a little
(peace)
Just a taste
(of civility)
You know he’s got it so why don’t you get to see it?
You’re in the middle of a barren battleground
and the hollow ache in your chest is bending you at the waist,
forcing your fingers into your thighs,
and your lungs are racing and your heart is gasping
(cease fire)
You’re at the end of your very long, very strong rope,
It’s tethered to nothing and it’s frayed to the last thread and you’re not too proud to beg
(throw down your weapons)
And it doesn’t have to be this way, it shouldn’t be this way, why is it like this
(I’m on your side)
And you’re longing for him to fake it
(you want to be a stranger, take it all back)
You want to hear his customer service voice and be treated to his polite smile
(you don’t want it anymore, you made a mistake, you were wrong)
You don’t want to know him,
you don’t want to be beyond falseness and courtesy and small talk
(please, please, I’m sorry)
It’s too hard
(the barrage doesn’t stop, the enemy teases you while volleys of flaming arrows slaughter your guards and burn your battlements to ashes)
(cease fire, make it stop)
Your white flag is in the air and you’re waiving your arms
(drop down your defenses)
It’s gone too far, too long, you don’t know why you started,
there’s no hope left in this warzone
(it’s been bleeding out for months, flowing unconstrained around the tourniquet you thought for sure would stem it)
It’s shot-for-shot now and the victor inflicts the most damage
(the casualties we both leave, it’s all so unnecessary)
And you’re screaming, pleading, bribing
(I don’t want to do this anymore, I’ll do anything, can’t you hear me scream)
(please cease fire)
You’ll do anything
(you shouldn’t have to fight for peace)
But it’s a battle like every other and you can’t tell who fired first
(you trade off; you’re equal opportunity like that)
But the bullets are flying regardless and your armor is long since mangled and your clip is empty
(the unfired bullets litter the ground around your feet and you shake the cartridge once more to be sure)
He won’t grant you amnesty but you’re done asking, praying, bargaining.
You’ve made your choice.
He can fight this battle on his own
(you can’t disrupt his aim or move his finger from the trigger but you have this, this you can do)
You can drag yourself past the edge of the battlefield
(fire on you if he will)
bent, bleeding, but not yet broken
(hear me now, make it stop, we can do better)
(cease fire, make it stop)
Author: etgoddess
Fandom: Original Series
Pairing(s): OC/OC
Rating: T
Summary: You are not partners, you are opponents. There is only a thin line between love and hate, and you're dancing on it.
Author's Note: A one-shot related to my original Story of a Girl series. Music credit goes to Christina Aguilera's Cease Fire. Cross-posted to Fiction Press.
It’s a battle
(God and you’re so tired of fighting)
but you don’t know how to give up, how to walk away
You only know persistence to the bitter, bloody, battered end
Your words are bullets
(silver, hollow point, large caliber)
designed to destroy
Your mouth is the gun,
You hold the atom bomb in your hand
And you threaten, you warn, you promise
(I’ll drop it and ruin us both)
It’s a war
(and it’s a marathon and you’re still at it)
and you don’t want to anymore
(your knees are bloodied and your nails are ragged and your palms are torn)
You’re not even sure what you’re fighting for anymore because there’s nothing left
(nothing to salvage, repair, repurpose)
There was nothing there to being with and you shouldn’t miss what you never had
And you think you spend most of your time just fighting for peace
(with him, with yourself)
struggling to find a respite from the arguing, a vacation from the sniping, a haven from the hurricane in your head that is poisoning everything around you
(your rationality is shot, your judgment is faulty, and you don’t have it tonight)
The emotional fortitude to spar with him.
There’s got to be a better way
(you don’t expect him to stand next to you, but you need him to stand with you because he has to be exhausted too, he has to be, it’s been so long)
You just need a little
(peace)
Just a taste
(of civility)
You know he’s got it so why don’t you get to see it?
You’re in the middle of a barren battleground
and the hollow ache in your chest is bending you at the waist,
forcing your fingers into your thighs,
and your lungs are racing and your heart is gasping
(cease fire)
You’re at the end of your very long, very strong rope,
It’s tethered to nothing and it’s frayed to the last thread and you’re not too proud to beg
(throw down your weapons)
And it doesn’t have to be this way, it shouldn’t be this way, why is it like this
(I’m on your side)
And you’re longing for him to fake it
(you want to be a stranger, take it all back)
You want to hear his customer service voice and be treated to his polite smile
(you don’t want it anymore, you made a mistake, you were wrong)
You don’t want to know him,
you don’t want to be beyond falseness and courtesy and small talk
(please, please, I’m sorry)
It’s too hard
(the barrage doesn’t stop, the enemy teases you while volleys of flaming arrows slaughter your guards and burn your battlements to ashes)
(cease fire, make it stop)
Your white flag is in the air and you’re waiving your arms
(drop down your defenses)
It’s gone too far, too long, you don’t know why you started,
there’s no hope left in this warzone
(it’s been bleeding out for months, flowing unconstrained around the tourniquet you thought for sure would stem it)
It’s shot-for-shot now and the victor inflicts the most damage
(the casualties we both leave, it’s all so unnecessary)
And you’re screaming, pleading, bribing
(I don’t want to do this anymore, I’ll do anything, can’t you hear me scream)
(please cease fire)
You’ll do anything
(you shouldn’t have to fight for peace)
But it’s a battle like every other and you can’t tell who fired first
(you trade off; you’re equal opportunity like that)
But the bullets are flying regardless and your armor is long since mangled and your clip is empty
(the unfired bullets litter the ground around your feet and you shake the cartridge once more to be sure)
He won’t grant you amnesty but you’re done asking, praying, bargaining.
You’ve made your choice.
He can fight this battle on his own
(you can’t disrupt his aim or move his finger from the trigger but you have this, this you can do)
You can drag yourself past the edge of the battlefield
(fire on you if he will)
bent, bleeding, but not yet broken
(hear me now, make it stop, we can do better)
(cease fire, make it stop)