Ruth's Darling (2/2)
Title: Ruth’s Darling (2/2)
Word Count: 902
Summary: (This part) Ruth steps inside
Rating: M-ish?
Warnings: Unbeta’d. Still haven’t been able to see the second series, apologies for any mistakes.
Spoilers: Series 1, 2.08
Pairing: Mild Sam/Annie
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, it’s not mine. BBC and Kudos get to have all the fun. Though it’s probably safer that way. ;)
Lyrics: Needle & Thread - Psapp
A/N: I have been meaning to do this for ages, but as usual, various things have come up or I’ve been distracted elsewhere. Because I’m not going to be on LJ for a week (Starting Friday - Holiday with a friend and her family) I figured I may as well post this now. Might be some icons later too, if I have the time to upload them.Comments are wonderful, if there's anything that needs fixing - tell me!
Part 1 here
Don't you break
I will not let you
I'll make sure
They will not get you
It was dark in the hallway, the first thing that Ruth saw when her son - her son - stepped back to allow her to enter. The tiny seed of hope that she had allowed herself to grow when she was searching burst open into a flower inside her chest. Her happiness was a physical feeling, and her heart reflected that by beating confidently and her lungs breathing a little easier. It was clichéd, but it was like a great weight had been removed from her shoulders. She stood a little taller and wiped the tears that had fallen unbidden on to her face.
But she clung onto Sam’s hand. She didn’t want to let him go, just in case. Because, (as the rational part of her brain repeatedly tried to tell her) it was impossible. Time travel happened in films and in books, but never in real life and never when a body had been splattered on the ground - with all the blood and that smile on his face that she could see in her minds eye and he was dead, dead and this wasn’t him how could she have ever thought…? But then he looked up and smiled so wide at her and that rational bit shut up fast. Real life didn’t make sense, she decided at that moment. Ruth stepped inside.
It wasn’t as dark as she first thought. She could see doors leading off into areas of the house that were obviously well worn, with the edges of carpet lifting a little and chipped paint. But it was well cared for, and clean, with a definite sense of being lived in. Sam squeezed her hand slightly and she was shocked to find he was shaking slightly. So was she, she realized as she looked down at their interlaced fingers. She squeezed back and Sam led the way through the maze. They came to a room out the back, which opened onto a garden - a little oasis in the midst of the urban land. There was a woman spread out on a couch, reading a magazine. She looked up and sat up properly, smiling politely. She was about Ruth’s age, and her hair was silky although mostly grey. “Annie” introduced Sam proudly.
Ruth stepped forward to embrace the other woman. And although she tried not to, she started to cry again. It was just too much of a shock. She sat down on the chair that Sam pulled out and sniffled. Annie looked concerned, and she had a brief conversation with Sam that Ruth didn’t hear before she walked back into the house. Sam sat down next to his mum and waited. Before long, she was able to control herself again, and gave a sort of strangled laugh. “I’m a mother-in-law and I never knew it.” She told him proudly.
He grinned again, and she thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. When he was still ali - stop it - when he was ‘younger’ she had never seen him smile too many times, and each one was as precious as a diamond. Unbidden, the images of his face leapt into her mind. His face on the pavement with the blood forming a sort of halo and that smile, that smile on his face.
Panicking, she shoved that image far to the back of her mind. She never wanted to relive it again. She concentrated on the here and now and smiled to match his. But it still nagged away at her. And then it clicked. ‘I made a promise’. Suddenly she didn’t really like Annie anymore. Did she get to have him while her heart was torn out and ripped to pieces? She didn’t know how it worked, but the coma had changed him. But he was there in hospital the entire time - she was with him for most of it. Her idea just didn’t explain. So she asked, softly, the smile fading as she met her sons eyes. “What happened?”
They both talked late into the afternoon, before Ruth grew too tired to even try to pretend she wasn’t. She couldn’t pretend that the couple didn’t hurt her either, but they had the decency to look embarrassed when Ruth spoke about what she had suffered after the ‘suicide’. People were either one of two groups, the sympathetic - or the ones who thought she (directly or indirectly) caused it. The whispers followed her around for months afterwards. But it was at home when they wormed their way into her mind and she secretly had doubts about wether she did cause it. Those were her worst moments. Each time that happened she had to build herself up again.
So, in a way, she resented him - both of them. Not much, admittedly. However it was a bridge that was burnt in a way. They couldn’t go back, so there was only forward to look to, more bridges. But that burnt stub was always at their backs. Maybe time would smooth that wood, reduce it. Maybe it wouldn’t. It was probably the former. Numbers were exchanged, dates made. Ruth went home to her bed and slept more soundly then she had for the first night in months.
I can't divide you
Cannot make you stay
There is no simple sum
No other way