Dreaming Dreams With Happy Endings
So...I've decided to start posting my Kristina/Ethan hetbigbang, even as it's incomplete, and maybe it will help me to sort it out. I got a positive response from it yesterday, so...even if there's just a few of us, we were really passionate about this couple.
Title: Into The Mystic
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 1,784 (1/?)
Summary: There is a moment, a split-second, an exact pinpoint in time that splits the child with the person he will be forever...
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: This veers from GH canon last May. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. ^_^
“What does it mean?”
Kristina is hugging herself around her middle, shivering even though it’s well over ninety degrees. He remembers what it was like to see her smile. It feels like it’s been a very long time.
He reaches for her, and she pulls away. He remembers her being sweet and warm under his hands and mouth. It hurts to remember that. He folds his arms across his chest to keep from reaching for her again.
He has done this to her, he knows this. What was pure and untouched (happy) in her, he has broken. He can’t say he is surprised. He never should have been trusted with something so fine.
She’s changed in these long days and weeks (has it been a lifetime?) they they’ve been together. She appears more fragile now, if that’s possible. If it’s possible, he is more protective of her now (and God only knows the lengths he will go to to keep her safe). But her eyes...she’s older now than she ever should have been.
What has he done?
“Krissy,” he murmurs, his voice so low, he can barely hear himself. He clenches his fingers into fists against his chest. He aches to touch her, but recoils at the thought of laying his hand on her again.
She’s been looking at the ground since she lashed out, like even she couldn’t believe she had such rage left in her. Now she looks up, her eyes finally meeting his. She can destroy him so easily, and he wonders if she knows that. He suspects that she doesn’t.
“Ethan,” she says, breath hitched behind tears. “I want to go home.”
“Oh love,” and he finds himself unable to fight his own tears, “We can’t go home again, angel.”
***
Ethan always had three vices: cards, trouble and pretty girls. In the order in which they came to him. His dad -- Henry Lovett, the man who raised him -- taught him seven card stud by the time he’d started school. And once he started, trouble was never hard to find. He got a kick out of breaking the rules, and a devilish pride from getting away with it. And truth be told -- he didn’t mind getting caught either. The girls came a little later -- but when they did, it was almost as dangerous as the other two (almost).
All the same, the boys he ran around with growing up got into all sorts of problems. Some were in prison, some were dead. In fact, one of his best mates, Mark Loughton, overdosed on painkillers when he was seventeen. Ethan was long gone by that point and when he finally heard, the guilt that he might have found a way to help him was haunting.
So...he knew what it looked like. And he didn’t like the way it looked on Kristina. More than that, it didn’t make any sense. Kristina would never do that to herself.
If he wasn’t so worried about her, he might have stopped himself to think about why he thought he knew so much about her.
***
Kristina wakes up with her head on Ethan’s shoulder, gently rocking with the motion of the car. The sun is coming up, and she doesn’t know when she closed her eyes, but didn’t think she slept for long. If Ethan never pulled over for a quick nap, they must be very far from Port Charles at this point. She has his jean jacket draped around her, but doesn’t remember putting it on.
“Krissy, you awake...” He whispers over her head and she wishes she could rest against him for just another few minutes, but she knows that's not fair when he’s been driving all night. With a sigh, she picks her head up, and he glances over at her. His eyes are bloodshot and he takes the steering wheel in his left hand and stretches out the shoulder she’d been sleeping on. “Are you okay?”
There iss no way to answer that. No, she will never be okay again. Yes, she will always be fine as long as she was with him. “Do you want me to drive?” she asks instead. It's an old model Chevy without a GPS, so she just hopes she doesn’t circle them back to Port Charles (Johnny, Lisa...)
He shakes his head and fights a yawn. “No, but I do need to stop driving soon. But we have to dump this car somewhere...” He said it all in a matter-of-fact manner, clearly not his first time with autotheft.
Whatever she was innocent of, she iss now officially a criminal. (An accomplice? She wishes she could ask her mother.)
Kristina looks out the passenger side window so that Ethan won’t see her cry.
***
Kristina couldn’t sleep. It seemed there was always something to worry about. This exam or that paper. There was always Yale, like this giant coin being flipped in the air, deciding her fate. And she still had nightmares about Kiefer, about the hospital...
But more often than not, she was thinking about Ethan. In her own room, in her own bed, in the dark, she didn’t have to think about trying not to show how much she felt. She could wear her heart on her sleeve and love him as fiercely as she wanted to during the day.
She could replay everything in her mind like a favorite movie. She could count the times he’s touched her, smiled at her. She knew when he came up behind her at Kelley’s or the docks, could feel him before he speaks. She knew him now.
When she couldn’t sleep, when she would lay awake thinking of Ethan, he kept the nightmares at bay- he was her safe place. After her father’s wedding, that awful night where they thought Brenda (and then Sam) was dead, she slept against him and she heard him whisper, “No one is going to hurt you.” And it didn’t even matter if he said it or not, or if she just dreamed it, the point was that she believed him. Nothing and no one would hurt her. Ethan was her hero.
Kristina slipped out of bed and got herself a glass of water from the bathroom sink. The vitamins Dr. Niles had prescribed did help her sleep when her mind was racing. But until she drifted off, she could close her eyes and think of Ethan’s smile, and feel safe.
***
He is trying not to lose his shit over worrying about Kristina. Of course this is nothing new. Now that he’s been up for a day and some change and driving for over ten hours, he’s got a moment to mentally slap himself and ask what the fuck he was thinking. Dragging Kristina across state lines, fleeing police custody? He has to have been out of his goddamn mind.
The car was exactly where Johnny said it would be, a non-descript gray sedan in a non-descript commercial lot with a full tank. It would work nicely for a little while at least while Ethan figured out where to go next. The keys were hidden under a panel with a trap door that he had to get off with a screwdriver and as he crouches by the back tire, he glances out of the corner of his eye at Kristina, leaning against the hood. He finds it unsettling to have her out of arm’s reach, which is an unsettling thought in and of itself.
She’s still wearing his old jean jacket. He tucked it around her after she fell asleep the night before and it hangs almost to her knees. She looks like a child, playing hobo (do children pretend to be hoboes these days?) This is not where she should be. She should be finishing her high school exams and getting ready for that prom she’d shyly invited him to, for Christ’s sake.
With the key in his hand, he stands up to have a look in the trunk. Johnny was as good as his word. There were a few spare changes of clothes for a guy (he would have to figure something out for Kristina), a case of water, a handgun (which he didn’t plan on showing to Kristina, at least now now) and a duffel bag. Ethan only peaks inside, but it certainly looks like the cool couple grand Johnny had promised.
He rips two bottles out of the case and carefully closes the trunk so that it doesn’t slam and walks around to the front of the car, towards Krissy. Laying his hand over her smooth dark hair, he speaks softly close to her ear. “You’re safe. I’ll see to that.” she doesn’t answer but reaches up to lay her hand over his and squeezes tightly.
***
Ethan clenched the pill bottle tightly in his hand. He could easily make a killing down by the docks with this supply. For the love of God, Lisa Niles was a bloody lunatic. There was enough narcotic in this bottle to kill a horse.
Johnny was no help. It was like he was determined to speed up the process of making himself as mad as his father. A mask of carefully errected denial hung between Ethan and his friend. The fact that Johnny gave him a place in the world and the benefit of the doubt when no one else would kept Ethan from wringing his neck.
“Are you going to do anything about this?” Ethan snarled, holding the pill bottle up again, as if trying to prove to Johnny that it wasn’t just sugar.
“What am I supposed to do? Slap her around?” Johnny sipoed his drink with a maddening calm and Ethan wished he could give him a good smack. “Or should I go to the cops?” At that, he grinned that sly, sideways smile of his. Ethan had seen him give that same look to Lucky and Mac Scorpio before. No, I don’t know anything about a shipment coming into the docks...
Ethan tossed the bottle in the air twice, turning it in his hand. “I don’t care what you do,” he said, his voice a quiet threat, and Johnny finally put his drink down and wiped the smirk off his face. Good. He got his attention. “But take of it. She’s not going to hurt Kristina again.”
Next
*
I can't stop listening to The Hunger Games soundtrack, and also (surprise, surprise) can't help noticing the similarities between the overall Spartacus arc and the THG story. In fact, I would love nothing more than to do a Rebels video to Eyes Open.
<<<333
Title: Into The Mystic
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 1,784 (1/?)
Summary: There is a moment, a split-second, an exact pinpoint in time that splits the child with the person he will be forever...
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: This veers from GH canon last May. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. ^_^
“What does it mean?”
Kristina is hugging herself around her middle, shivering even though it’s well over ninety degrees. He remembers what it was like to see her smile. It feels like it’s been a very long time.
He reaches for her, and she pulls away. He remembers her being sweet and warm under his hands and mouth. It hurts to remember that. He folds his arms across his chest to keep from reaching for her again.
He has done this to her, he knows this. What was pure and untouched (happy) in her, he has broken. He can’t say he is surprised. He never should have been trusted with something so fine.
She’s changed in these long days and weeks (has it been a lifetime?) they they’ve been together. She appears more fragile now, if that’s possible. If it’s possible, he is more protective of her now (and God only knows the lengths he will go to to keep her safe). But her eyes...she’s older now than she ever should have been.
What has he done?
“Krissy,” he murmurs, his voice so low, he can barely hear himself. He clenches his fingers into fists against his chest. He aches to touch her, but recoils at the thought of laying his hand on her again.
She’s been looking at the ground since she lashed out, like even she couldn’t believe she had such rage left in her. Now she looks up, her eyes finally meeting his. She can destroy him so easily, and he wonders if she knows that. He suspects that she doesn’t.
“Ethan,” she says, breath hitched behind tears. “I want to go home.”
“Oh love,” and he finds himself unable to fight his own tears, “We can’t go home again, angel.”
***
Ethan always had three vices: cards, trouble and pretty girls. In the order in which they came to him. His dad -- Henry Lovett, the man who raised him -- taught him seven card stud by the time he’d started school. And once he started, trouble was never hard to find. He got a kick out of breaking the rules, and a devilish pride from getting away with it. And truth be told -- he didn’t mind getting caught either. The girls came a little later -- but when they did, it was almost as dangerous as the other two (almost).
All the same, the boys he ran around with growing up got into all sorts of problems. Some were in prison, some were dead. In fact, one of his best mates, Mark Loughton, overdosed on painkillers when he was seventeen. Ethan was long gone by that point and when he finally heard, the guilt that he might have found a way to help him was haunting.
So...he knew what it looked like. And he didn’t like the way it looked on Kristina. More than that, it didn’t make any sense. Kristina would never do that to herself.
If he wasn’t so worried about her, he might have stopped himself to think about why he thought he knew so much about her.
***
Kristina wakes up with her head on Ethan’s shoulder, gently rocking with the motion of the car. The sun is coming up, and she doesn’t know when she closed her eyes, but didn’t think she slept for long. If Ethan never pulled over for a quick nap, they must be very far from Port Charles at this point. She has his jean jacket draped around her, but doesn’t remember putting it on.
“Krissy, you awake...” He whispers over her head and she wishes she could rest against him for just another few minutes, but she knows that's not fair when he’s been driving all night. With a sigh, she picks her head up, and he glances over at her. His eyes are bloodshot and he takes the steering wheel in his left hand and stretches out the shoulder she’d been sleeping on. “Are you okay?”
There iss no way to answer that. No, she will never be okay again. Yes, she will always be fine as long as she was with him. “Do you want me to drive?” she asks instead. It's an old model Chevy without a GPS, so she just hopes she doesn’t circle them back to Port Charles (Johnny, Lisa...)
He shakes his head and fights a yawn. “No, but I do need to stop driving soon. But we have to dump this car somewhere...” He said it all in a matter-of-fact manner, clearly not his first time with autotheft.
Whatever she was innocent of, she iss now officially a criminal. (An accomplice? She wishes she could ask her mother.)
Kristina looks out the passenger side window so that Ethan won’t see her cry.
***
Kristina couldn’t sleep. It seemed there was always something to worry about. This exam or that paper. There was always Yale, like this giant coin being flipped in the air, deciding her fate. And she still had nightmares about Kiefer, about the hospital...
But more often than not, she was thinking about Ethan. In her own room, in her own bed, in the dark, she didn’t have to think about trying not to show how much she felt. She could wear her heart on her sleeve and love him as fiercely as she wanted to during the day.
She could replay everything in her mind like a favorite movie. She could count the times he’s touched her, smiled at her. She knew when he came up behind her at Kelley’s or the docks, could feel him before he speaks. She knew him now.
When she couldn’t sleep, when she would lay awake thinking of Ethan, he kept the nightmares at bay- he was her safe place. After her father’s wedding, that awful night where they thought Brenda (and then Sam) was dead, she slept against him and she heard him whisper, “No one is going to hurt you.” And it didn’t even matter if he said it or not, or if she just dreamed it, the point was that she believed him. Nothing and no one would hurt her. Ethan was her hero.
Kristina slipped out of bed and got herself a glass of water from the bathroom sink. The vitamins Dr. Niles had prescribed did help her sleep when her mind was racing. But until she drifted off, she could close her eyes and think of Ethan’s smile, and feel safe.
***
He is trying not to lose his shit over worrying about Kristina. Of course this is nothing new. Now that he’s been up for a day and some change and driving for over ten hours, he’s got a moment to mentally slap himself and ask what the fuck he was thinking. Dragging Kristina across state lines, fleeing police custody? He has to have been out of his goddamn mind.
The car was exactly where Johnny said it would be, a non-descript gray sedan in a non-descript commercial lot with a full tank. It would work nicely for a little while at least while Ethan figured out where to go next. The keys were hidden under a panel with a trap door that he had to get off with a screwdriver and as he crouches by the back tire, he glances out of the corner of his eye at Kristina, leaning against the hood. He finds it unsettling to have her out of arm’s reach, which is an unsettling thought in and of itself.
She’s still wearing his old jean jacket. He tucked it around her after she fell asleep the night before and it hangs almost to her knees. She looks like a child, playing hobo (do children pretend to be hoboes these days?) This is not where she should be. She should be finishing her high school exams and getting ready for that prom she’d shyly invited him to, for Christ’s sake.
With the key in his hand, he stands up to have a look in the trunk. Johnny was as good as his word. There were a few spare changes of clothes for a guy (he would have to figure something out for Kristina), a case of water, a handgun (which he didn’t plan on showing to Kristina, at least now now) and a duffel bag. Ethan only peaks inside, but it certainly looks like the cool couple grand Johnny had promised.
He rips two bottles out of the case and carefully closes the trunk so that it doesn’t slam and walks around to the front of the car, towards Krissy. Laying his hand over her smooth dark hair, he speaks softly close to her ear. “You’re safe. I’ll see to that.” she doesn’t answer but reaches up to lay her hand over his and squeezes tightly.
***
Ethan clenched the pill bottle tightly in his hand. He could easily make a killing down by the docks with this supply. For the love of God, Lisa Niles was a bloody lunatic. There was enough narcotic in this bottle to kill a horse.
Johnny was no help. It was like he was determined to speed up the process of making himself as mad as his father. A mask of carefully errected denial hung between Ethan and his friend. The fact that Johnny gave him a place in the world and the benefit of the doubt when no one else would kept Ethan from wringing his neck.
“Are you going to do anything about this?” Ethan snarled, holding the pill bottle up again, as if trying to prove to Johnny that it wasn’t just sugar.
“What am I supposed to do? Slap her around?” Johnny sipoed his drink with a maddening calm and Ethan wished he could give him a good smack. “Or should I go to the cops?” At that, he grinned that sly, sideways smile of his. Ethan had seen him give that same look to Lucky and Mac Scorpio before. No, I don’t know anything about a shipment coming into the docks...
Ethan tossed the bottle in the air twice, turning it in his hand. “I don’t care what you do,” he said, his voice a quiet threat, and Johnny finally put his drink down and wiped the smirk off his face. Good. He got his attention. “But take of it. She’s not going to hurt Kristina again.”
Next
*
I can't stop listening to The Hunger Games soundtrack, and also (surprise, surprise) can't help noticing the similarities between the overall Spartacus arc and the THG story. In fact, I would love nothing more than to do a Rebels video to Eyes Open.
<<<333