Bourne Fic: Choices (1/1)
Title: Choices
Jason/Marie, post-The Bourne Identity, 621 words, pg
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Entered to the Bourne Ficathon on LJ. How Marie adjusted to a life with Jason.
Choices
You could have said no. You could have left him at the highway stop. You could have got out. Or made him get out of the car; you actually tried it once. He begged you to drive him to Paris as if you were a couple, and it didn't take much convincing for you to agree. You could have driven off and left him in Paris, or gone to the police shortly afterwards when he offered. You could have run away from him any number of times. But you didn't, and that was your choice.
You know he wonders why you didn't, why you chose to stay with him. He thinks he's effectively ended your life - you can no longer go anywhere or do anything without looking over your shoulder, without moving on regularly, living in different places, learning to let go of material things. He worries that it isn't fair to you.
You'd never had a stable home, though, so it wasn't all that different. You were used to moving around, packing everything you owned into a few bags and boxes and going somewhere new, trying something else. You'd learned to live by yourself, trust yourself and no one else. In that respect you and he are very similar. The one thing that was different was that you were no longer alone. You're with him, and he's with you, and you're together. And call it fate, but you both knew that you could trust each other, that this relationship was potentially the one that wouldn't hurt, that wouldn't end badly. You had a feeling about it. You liked him.
He still doesn't understand why.
In his eyes he made you a fugitive, made you fear the system, made you lose your identity while he tried to find his. What he doesn't realize is that while he found his identity you found your true identity as well; you had been a ghost your entire life, never settling anywhere long enough for people to be able to remember more about you than simply your name and the hair color you had had at the time.
You eventually make him realize that this is your life, with him, and that before, you didn't really have one. You saw the chance of a life when you met him, and you followed that chance. That small belief that maybe this could work, that maybe this was the right guy to trust, that maybe he was the only one you could actually believe when he promised that he would protect you. So you did. You took that chance, and you proved to him that you would be right there beside him, always, no matter what.
And now you're living your life, enjoying every moment of it, instead of just being a witness to it. You no longer wonder what your life could be and chastise yourself for not doing something more fulfilling. You love your life now, with him. And it feels good to actually care about something real; to have someone to look after and to have look after you. You're no longer alone and without identity in the vast world you spent years discovering but never leaving your mark on. Not that you left a mark now, but that's because you didn't intend to. You were still in semi-state of hiding, but you made a mark on him, and he on you, and that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things.
Fin
Jason/Marie, post-The Bourne Identity, 621 words, pg
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Entered to the Bourne Ficathon on LJ. How Marie adjusted to a life with Jason.
Choices
You could have said no. You could have left him at the highway stop. You could have got out. Or made him get out of the car; you actually tried it once. He begged you to drive him to Paris as if you were a couple, and it didn't take much convincing for you to agree. You could have driven off and left him in Paris, or gone to the police shortly afterwards when he offered. You could have run away from him any number of times. But you didn't, and that was your choice.
You know he wonders why you didn't, why you chose to stay with him. He thinks he's effectively ended your life - you can no longer go anywhere or do anything without looking over your shoulder, without moving on regularly, living in different places, learning to let go of material things. He worries that it isn't fair to you.
You'd never had a stable home, though, so it wasn't all that different. You were used to moving around, packing everything you owned into a few bags and boxes and going somewhere new, trying something else. You'd learned to live by yourself, trust yourself and no one else. In that respect you and he are very similar. The one thing that was different was that you were no longer alone. You're with him, and he's with you, and you're together. And call it fate, but you both knew that you could trust each other, that this relationship was potentially the one that wouldn't hurt, that wouldn't end badly. You had a feeling about it. You liked him.
He still doesn't understand why.
In his eyes he made you a fugitive, made you fear the system, made you lose your identity while he tried to find his. What he doesn't realize is that while he found his identity you found your true identity as well; you had been a ghost your entire life, never settling anywhere long enough for people to be able to remember more about you than simply your name and the hair color you had had at the time.
You eventually make him realize that this is your life, with him, and that before, you didn't really have one. You saw the chance of a life when you met him, and you followed that chance. That small belief that maybe this could work, that maybe this was the right guy to trust, that maybe he was the only one you could actually believe when he promised that he would protect you. So you did. You took that chance, and you proved to him that you would be right there beside him, always, no matter what.
And now you're living your life, enjoying every moment of it, instead of just being a witness to it. You no longer wonder what your life could be and chastise yourself for not doing something more fulfilling. You love your life now, with him. And it feels good to actually care about something real; to have someone to look after and to have look after you. You're no longer alone and without identity in the vast world you spent years discovering but never leaving your mark on. Not that you left a mark now, but that's because you didn't intend to. You were still in semi-state of hiding, but you made a mark on him, and he on you, and that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things.
Fin