sunday_reveries prompts for 7/19 - 7/25 [quote prompt #9]
9. "The bad thing about falling to pieces is that it hurts. The good thing about it is that once you're lying there in shards there is nothing left to protect, and so you have no reason not to be honest." -David James Duncan
"Please, no more. I want to stop." Claire pushed at the book, sliding it off of her lap in an irritated move. She moved it to the coffee table, surging to her feet to move away from the couch and the person who was trying to stop her.
"Claire, please, we're not done." Sylar frowned a little at her, quickly setting aside his own photo album as he moved to follow her.
"No." Her voice was sharp as she snapped at him, trying to twist and change directions to throw him off of her trail. Not that she was going very far though, considering they were in a small house.
"Just a couple more pictures, please..." He started to plead with her, his voice soft as he looked at her.
She could see the plea in his eyes, the need for her to remember what it was like to be with him and for her to come back. He was waiting for his wife to appear but Claire wasn't sure where that woman was. Instead she was left feeling trapped and vulnerable which made her irritable as she slid a hand over the curve of her belly as she felt the flutter of her child growing anxious as well. "No! Just stop it, stop it! No more pictures, no more stories...just stop!"
"Claire...."
"No! Damnit, Sylar, listen to me and stop!" She cursed, trying to make her point stronger to get it across.
For a moment his eyes flickered with some dark rage but then it melted into disappointment as he looked at her. "Why? Don't you want to remember?"
Now it was Claire's turn to pause as she looked at him, wrapping her arms around herself as she thought of the answer that she already knew. "I don't know, Sylar." She murmured honestly and then made her tone a touch firmer. "I'm not sure I do."
"You don't mean that." It was the only thing he could think to say. "Why wouldn't you want to remember? Remember us? Don’t you want to remember our family or how much we love each other?"
"Because I'm scared to remember! I'm scared to remember because at one time all I wanted to do was stop you. I don't know if I want to remember when it was that changed. When I suddenly decided I was in love with you and that it was okay you killed people. Or when I decided, that instead of stopping you, I should start cleaning up your messes!" She could see he was about to say something but she rushed on, scared to stop and yet scared to go on.
"Or when it was I decided to look the other way when you started taking our daughter with you." She motioned wildly. "How I would even pretend to be okay with the idea that she was there watching you murder people or, God, even taking part! When did I get to the point that I would even think of staying quiet about that? How could I walk onto a murder scene knowing she had been there, taking part of it? When did I become that person, Sylar?" She felt like she was asking him for answers now, answers she wasn't sure she wanted.
"There's a part of me that doesn't want to know those answers." She said as soon as she thought it, staring hard at the man who was supposedly her husband now. "I'm not sure I want to believe all those things. All because it doesn't make sense that I would change that much when, at one time, I was so against it."
"Claire..."
"But there's a part of me that badly wants to believe you, Sylar." She could feel the emotion rolling around inside of her like a storm. "I want to believe I love you and that you love me...."
"I do." He nodded, starting to say more but once again she kept going before he could.
"I want to look at Molly and know why I love her. I want to remember all the things that I should know about her. But it's more than that." She started the few feet towards a back room, pointing down at a door near the end before looking at him. "Down there, there is a little boy that I know I love. I know he comes from me and I can see myself in him. I know he's mine but I don't know him at all."
"I don't remember what it was like to be pregnant with him. I don't remember what I felt the first time he moved or what the labor was like. Did it hurt? Did I feel anything? Was I scared? Was my mother there? Were you?" As she continued, her voice got a little hoarser as the tears started to sting behind her eyelids. "I don't remember what it was like when I first heard him cry or what it felt like when they put him in my arms the first time. I don't remember what his favorite foods are or what his favorite color is. I didn't even remember what toy he liked or what his favorite story was."
"You said he liked me because I was better at this than you but I'm not. I don't even remember my own son and I'm scared I never will because I'm not sure I want to find the trigger to bring my memories back." She gasped, tears starting to trickle down her cheek as she started to break right in front of his eyes.
He murmured her name, moving towards her as he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and comfort her. "Claire." He felt it when she flinched but she didn't fight him as he pulled her slender body against his. He could see the curve of her belly pressed against him and it was almost comforting but this was about her. "Why?" He asked, slightly broken himself.
"Because I'm not sure I want the answers that come with all the questions I have." She admitted as she leaned against him, letting herself be comforted for a moment or two before she pulled away from him.
"Why?" He looked at her, watching her back away.
For a little while, she looked at him before she turned away because she needed the escape. She got to her bedroom before she stopped to look back at him, drawing in a shaky breath as she leaned against the door and allowed it to hold her up. "Because I'm not sure I'll like answers when I get them and I'm not sure I'll like the person is your wife."
It was the most honest she had been with him in a very long time and that bothered them both as she let herself into her room, shutting the door behind her and shutting him out as she was left with her own thoughts again.
[
watchmakersboy used without permission but with love]
"Please, no more. I want to stop." Claire pushed at the book, sliding it off of her lap in an irritated move. She moved it to the coffee table, surging to her feet to move away from the couch and the person who was trying to stop her.
"Claire, please, we're not done." Sylar frowned a little at her, quickly setting aside his own photo album as he moved to follow her.
"No." Her voice was sharp as she snapped at him, trying to twist and change directions to throw him off of her trail. Not that she was going very far though, considering they were in a small house.
"Just a couple more pictures, please..." He started to plead with her, his voice soft as he looked at her.
She could see the plea in his eyes, the need for her to remember what it was like to be with him and for her to come back. He was waiting for his wife to appear but Claire wasn't sure where that woman was. Instead she was left feeling trapped and vulnerable which made her irritable as she slid a hand over the curve of her belly as she felt the flutter of her child growing anxious as well. "No! Just stop it, stop it! No more pictures, no more stories...just stop!"
"Claire...."
"No! Damnit, Sylar, listen to me and stop!" She cursed, trying to make her point stronger to get it across.
For a moment his eyes flickered with some dark rage but then it melted into disappointment as he looked at her. "Why? Don't you want to remember?"
Now it was Claire's turn to pause as she looked at him, wrapping her arms around herself as she thought of the answer that she already knew. "I don't know, Sylar." She murmured honestly and then made her tone a touch firmer. "I'm not sure I do."
"You don't mean that." It was the only thing he could think to say. "Why wouldn't you want to remember? Remember us? Don’t you want to remember our family or how much we love each other?"
"Because I'm scared to remember! I'm scared to remember because at one time all I wanted to do was stop you. I don't know if I want to remember when it was that changed. When I suddenly decided I was in love with you and that it was okay you killed people. Or when I decided, that instead of stopping you, I should start cleaning up your messes!" She could see he was about to say something but she rushed on, scared to stop and yet scared to go on.
"Or when it was I decided to look the other way when you started taking our daughter with you." She motioned wildly. "How I would even pretend to be okay with the idea that she was there watching you murder people or, God, even taking part! When did I get to the point that I would even think of staying quiet about that? How could I walk onto a murder scene knowing she had been there, taking part of it? When did I become that person, Sylar?" She felt like she was asking him for answers now, answers she wasn't sure she wanted.
"There's a part of me that doesn't want to know those answers." She said as soon as she thought it, staring hard at the man who was supposedly her husband now. "I'm not sure I want to believe all those things. All because it doesn't make sense that I would change that much when, at one time, I was so against it."
"Claire..."
"But there's a part of me that badly wants to believe you, Sylar." She could feel the emotion rolling around inside of her like a storm. "I want to believe I love you and that you love me...."
"I do." He nodded, starting to say more but once again she kept going before he could.
"I want to look at Molly and know why I love her. I want to remember all the things that I should know about her. But it's more than that." She started the few feet towards a back room, pointing down at a door near the end before looking at him. "Down there, there is a little boy that I know I love. I know he comes from me and I can see myself in him. I know he's mine but I don't know him at all."
"I don't remember what it was like to be pregnant with him. I don't remember what I felt the first time he moved or what the labor was like. Did it hurt? Did I feel anything? Was I scared? Was my mother there? Were you?" As she continued, her voice got a little hoarser as the tears started to sting behind her eyelids. "I don't remember what it was like when I first heard him cry or what it felt like when they put him in my arms the first time. I don't remember what his favorite foods are or what his favorite color is. I didn't even remember what toy he liked or what his favorite story was."
"You said he liked me because I was better at this than you but I'm not. I don't even remember my own son and I'm scared I never will because I'm not sure I want to find the trigger to bring my memories back." She gasped, tears starting to trickle down her cheek as she started to break right in front of his eyes.
He murmured her name, moving towards her as he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and comfort her. "Claire." He felt it when she flinched but she didn't fight him as he pulled her slender body against his. He could see the curve of her belly pressed against him and it was almost comforting but this was about her. "Why?" He asked, slightly broken himself.
"Because I'm not sure I want the answers that come with all the questions I have." She admitted as she leaned against him, letting herself be comforted for a moment or two before she pulled away from him.
"Why?" He looked at her, watching her back away.
For a little while, she looked at him before she turned away because she needed the escape. She got to her bedroom before she stopped to look back at him, drawing in a shaky breath as she leaned against the door and allowed it to hold her up. "Because I'm not sure I'll like answers when I get them and I'm not sure I'll like the person is your wife."
It was the most honest she had been with him in a very long time and that bothered them both as she let herself into her room, shutting the door behind her and shutting him out as she was left with her own thoughts again.
[
watchmakersboy used without permission but with love]