(no subject)
Feeling crappy and sorry for myself. blah blah blah fibromyalgia blah blah blah depressing part of brain won't shut up blah blah blah.
Very much wish I had someone to lean on. Not that I don't have super-awesome friends who are always there to be a shoulder to cry on/friend in need/general sanity and support system but it would be nice to have someone physically here with me. It'd be nice to be taken care of every once in a while.
But I'm not the only person in the world who has to make it through on my own two feet and at least I only have myself to take care of. So let's just put those big girl panties back on and move along.
So, in order to, well, not lighten things up because the scenelet I'm about to post is kinda depressing, but to move things along, here's some more Bobby with a kid. Just so you know, I wrote this a couple months ago so I promise it's really not indicative of how I'm feeling at the moment. Promise. ;-)
December 2002
The howling woke Rachel up. It wasn’t like any wolf or coyote she’d ever heard before, it was fiercer; the sound sent a spike through her body like an electrical current.
She rolled out of bed, feet sliding into boots and hands automatically grabbing the shotgun propped against the wall. She followed Reagan down the steps; he moved like a dog half his age, tail low and hackles raised. If she hadn’t known before the dog’s agitation would have told her that whatever had howled wasn’t natural.
Bobby was already downstairs. He nodded silently and tossed over her heavy coat. She bent down and tied up her boots while Reagan passed restlessly by the door.
“You sweep the north end of the yard, I’ll go south,” Bobby declared, his voice all business. Rachel nodded. She quickly stifled the impulse to suggest that Reagan go with him; he’d only say he wasn’t that old yet and the damn mutt wouldn’t leave her anyway.
They stepped out into the clear night, their frozen breath the only moisture in the air. Wordlessly they split up. Rachel moved through the rusting hulks, her senses on overdrive, every sight and sound immediate and visceral. She felt more than heard Reagan stalking beside her.
Suddenly she stopped, her nerves pinging. She brought her gun up, her own breaths heavy in her ears. Metal shifted to her right. She spun and caught the bright flash of golden eyes before a black shape jumped at her. She fired but it was moving to fast, her shot grazing over its shoulder.
Reagan growled and sprang. His jaws closed around the withers of what looked like a giant black cat, the force of his jump shoving them out of range of her next shot.
She shouted, an involuntary response, as the cat yowled and swiped at Reagan. Its sharp claws dug into his side but he didn’t let go. It was nearly impossible to tell where one began and the other ended as they rolled over and over on the ground. Rachel couldn’t get a shot in, she could only watch.
The cat kicked Reagan in the throat and he fell back with a whimper. Rachel fired, the shot so close that it took off half the thing’s neck and one of its ears. It was dead before it hit the ground.
She leaped over the carcass and fell to her knees beside Reagan. His breath was ragged and his eyes were half closed.
“Be okay, please be okay,” she involuntarily whispered. She choked back a sob when she saw the extent of the damage. There wasn’t anything she could do.
Reagan opened his eyes as she carefully lifted his head into her lap. He grinned at her and his tail twitched as he tried to wag it.
She rubbed at the spot on his head that he loved to have scratched. “Hey old dog,” she whispered, voice thick with tears. “You did real good, you took care of me. You’re such a good boy.”
Rocks skittered under boots and she looked up. Bobby stood at the end of the row, shotgun held forgotten in his hand. She just shook her head, tears running down her face.
Bobby kneeled down beside them. They stayed there, in the cold and the dark, hands on Reagan’s head, until it was all over.
~~~
Have you all been reading the latest multi-part from xkcd? I have to say, it's pretty dang hilarious and guaranteed to put a smile on your face.
Very much wish I had someone to lean on. Not that I don't have super-awesome friends who are always there to be a shoulder to cry on/friend in need/general sanity and support system but it would be nice to have someone physically here with me. It'd be nice to be taken care of every once in a while.
But I'm not the only person in the world who has to make it through on my own two feet and at least I only have myself to take care of. So let's just put those big girl panties back on and move along.
So, in order to, well, not lighten things up because the scenelet I'm about to post is kinda depressing, but to move things along, here's some more Bobby with a kid. Just so you know, I wrote this a couple months ago so I promise it's really not indicative of how I'm feeling at the moment. Promise. ;-)
December 2002
The howling woke Rachel up. It wasn’t like any wolf or coyote she’d ever heard before, it was fiercer; the sound sent a spike through her body like an electrical current.
She rolled out of bed, feet sliding into boots and hands automatically grabbing the shotgun propped against the wall. She followed Reagan down the steps; he moved like a dog half his age, tail low and hackles raised. If she hadn’t known before the dog’s agitation would have told her that whatever had howled wasn’t natural.
Bobby was already downstairs. He nodded silently and tossed over her heavy coat. She bent down and tied up her boots while Reagan passed restlessly by the door.
“You sweep the north end of the yard, I’ll go south,” Bobby declared, his voice all business. Rachel nodded. She quickly stifled the impulse to suggest that Reagan go with him; he’d only say he wasn’t that old yet and the damn mutt wouldn’t leave her anyway.
They stepped out into the clear night, their frozen breath the only moisture in the air. Wordlessly they split up. Rachel moved through the rusting hulks, her senses on overdrive, every sight and sound immediate and visceral. She felt more than heard Reagan stalking beside her.
Suddenly she stopped, her nerves pinging. She brought her gun up, her own breaths heavy in her ears. Metal shifted to her right. She spun and caught the bright flash of golden eyes before a black shape jumped at her. She fired but it was moving to fast, her shot grazing over its shoulder.
Reagan growled and sprang. His jaws closed around the withers of what looked like a giant black cat, the force of his jump shoving them out of range of her next shot.
She shouted, an involuntary response, as the cat yowled and swiped at Reagan. Its sharp claws dug into his side but he didn’t let go. It was nearly impossible to tell where one began and the other ended as they rolled over and over on the ground. Rachel couldn’t get a shot in, she could only watch.
The cat kicked Reagan in the throat and he fell back with a whimper. Rachel fired, the shot so close that it took off half the thing’s neck and one of its ears. It was dead before it hit the ground.
She leaped over the carcass and fell to her knees beside Reagan. His breath was ragged and his eyes were half closed.
“Be okay, please be okay,” she involuntarily whispered. She choked back a sob when she saw the extent of the damage. There wasn’t anything she could do.
Reagan opened his eyes as she carefully lifted his head into her lap. He grinned at her and his tail twitched as he tried to wag it.
She rubbed at the spot on his head that he loved to have scratched. “Hey old dog,” she whispered, voice thick with tears. “You did real good, you took care of me. You’re such a good boy.”
Rocks skittered under boots and she looked up. Bobby stood at the end of the row, shotgun held forgotten in his hand. She just shook her head, tears running down her face.
Bobby kneeled down beside them. They stayed there, in the cold and the dark, hands on Reagan’s head, until it was all over.
~~~
Have you all been reading the latest multi-part from xkcd? I have to say, it's pretty dang hilarious and guaranteed to put a smile on your face.