Fic: Burdens to Bear (1/1)
Title: Burdens to Bear
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ten/Reinette
Word Count: 571
Summary: He’s tired, so weary, her Fireplace Man. For bittersweet325, who requested “Ten/Reinette + Washing” at the Five Acts Meme. Episode Spoilers for 2.04 - The Girl in the Fireplace.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Having just rewatched this episode, the pairing was something fresh in my mind, so I hope it came out alright.
Burdens to Bear
He’s tired, so weary, her Fireplace Man; her heart aches to see him, to feel him, to know the lonely corners of his mind, and she doesn’t know if it will help him, if it will do any good -- all she does know is how to ease another’s pain with the comfort of herself, her mind and her wit; her warmth and her heart splayed soft against another, open and full.
And him: he fills her, has held fast to her thoughts, her hopes and her nightly wanderings since before she can remember; he is a touchstone, a figment, and he is real before her, now, close at hand. He suffers, where she has only known comfort and joy in his presence, the thought of him in her mind, a flutter in her chest -- the world is never just, she knows, but it pains her to see him so at odds, so bereft: untethered.
She can moor him, if only for a moment. She can stay the tides, if only for the night.
She wraps arms, loose but insistent around him, tugs him close and lets him settle before her on the bed. She can feel the fight in him, the tension, and she wishes she knew how to banish it, how to sluice it away like the breeze. She presses flat palms to his chest, slips her hands inside his strange clothes and swears she feels the same cadence in two places, one lagging just behind. It catches in her breath, just as it stutters in his own, and she marvels at this strange and happy wonder that has fallen in her lap, stayed in her embrace -- if only for a moment, the blink of an eye, a lifetime lived in breaths between.
He moves to speak, to explain, but she won’t have it. She cannot make sense of him, but she’s never feared what she does not understand.
All the more burden to bear, my love, she breathes against his temple, holds lips there long enough to count double the rush, the flow of life beneath her touch. But then, all the more joy to know.
She smiles into his skin when she feels something small uncoil in him, feels him go just a little bit limp where he leans into her chest, lets his weight fall against her bosom; she places the warm cloth across his eyes and smoothes it, soothes, lets the dampness settle and drip at the corners down his cheeks; she wonders, for a moment, what it might be like to take the tip of her tongue and lick the droplets, taste sweet stardust on her teeth.
She wipes slowly, gently at his neck, and he leans; doesn’t seem to notice the way he gives and curves willingly into her ministrations, a simple kindness, the care she shows him; and how cruel is the universe that a man such as this is so starved of the regard he has earned, the love he deserves.
She doesn’t know when he falls asleep, expression lax, a child of the stars like any soul, the brightest of them -- she doesn’t know, except that she keeps her hands on him, her touch warm and free against his skin, steeped in the beats she can’t understand, but that she knows deep within her, a promise from her dreams.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ten/Reinette
Word Count: 571
Summary: He’s tired, so weary, her Fireplace Man. For bittersweet325, who requested “Ten/Reinette + Washing” at the Five Acts Meme. Episode Spoilers for 2.04 - The Girl in the Fireplace.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Having just rewatched this episode, the pairing was something fresh in my mind, so I hope it came out alright.
Burdens to Bear
He’s tired, so weary, her Fireplace Man; her heart aches to see him, to feel him, to know the lonely corners of his mind, and she doesn’t know if it will help him, if it will do any good -- all she does know is how to ease another’s pain with the comfort of herself, her mind and her wit; her warmth and her heart splayed soft against another, open and full.
And him: he fills her, has held fast to her thoughts, her hopes and her nightly wanderings since before she can remember; he is a touchstone, a figment, and he is real before her, now, close at hand. He suffers, where she has only known comfort and joy in his presence, the thought of him in her mind, a flutter in her chest -- the world is never just, she knows, but it pains her to see him so at odds, so bereft: untethered.
She can moor him, if only for a moment. She can stay the tides, if only for the night.
She wraps arms, loose but insistent around him, tugs him close and lets him settle before her on the bed. She can feel the fight in him, the tension, and she wishes she knew how to banish it, how to sluice it away like the breeze. She presses flat palms to his chest, slips her hands inside his strange clothes and swears she feels the same cadence in two places, one lagging just behind. It catches in her breath, just as it stutters in his own, and she marvels at this strange and happy wonder that has fallen in her lap, stayed in her embrace -- if only for a moment, the blink of an eye, a lifetime lived in breaths between.
He moves to speak, to explain, but she won’t have it. She cannot make sense of him, but she’s never feared what she does not understand.
All the more burden to bear, my love, she breathes against his temple, holds lips there long enough to count double the rush, the flow of life beneath her touch. But then, all the more joy to know.
She smiles into his skin when she feels something small uncoil in him, feels him go just a little bit limp where he leans into her chest, lets his weight fall against her bosom; she places the warm cloth across his eyes and smoothes it, soothes, lets the dampness settle and drip at the corners down his cheeks; she wonders, for a moment, what it might be like to take the tip of her tongue and lick the droplets, taste sweet stardust on her teeth.
She wipes slowly, gently at his neck, and he leans; doesn’t seem to notice the way he gives and curves willingly into her ministrations, a simple kindness, the care she shows him; and how cruel is the universe that a man such as this is so starved of the regard he has earned, the love he deserves.
She doesn’t know when he falls asleep, expression lax, a child of the stars like any soul, the brightest of them -- she doesn’t know, except that she keeps her hands on him, her touch warm and free against his skin, steeped in the beats she can’t understand, but that she knows deep within her, a promise from her dreams.