(no subject)
sweptawaybayou wrote a lovely angsty ficlet for me last week, On The Edge And Falling Off and I loved it so much that I wanted to answer it.
Into My World
Booth/Hodgins, Rated G
Don't own' em.
Into My World
Jack’s capacity for self-censorship has grown as he’s become more a part of the world and found bits and pieces of the life he wants and needs. As he’s found subtle ways to inch toward wholeness.
He long ago lost the capacity to believe in friendship for friendship’s sake, having been broken too many times by companions who chose him as a way to get closer to the myth of singularity that his surname carries. They never believe he doesn’t want to be “one of those Hodgins;” after all, who wouldn’t want to be part of that glorious, jet-setting machine?
Tired of never being taken at his word, he chooses solitude. He never gets too close, never gives too much of himself because when he finds someone he wants to be close to the inevitable questions always arise:
Why crave anonymity when strangers crawl at your feet just to be near you in the orbit of all that fortune and fame? Why fight to be apart from it and lift out of your dreams each morning, exhausted and jaded and asking the same soul-stealing questions of yourself every single day? Why not be the scion of the Cantilever Group and be carried along on the shoulders of the world?
He just wants to be Jack Hodgins who works in a lab and studies bugs and slime. A refugee from a life he never wanted, he’s spent 30 years running like hell from things others dream of - not the least of which is notoriety and social status. He can deal with the loneliness of keeping separate from the world. He's practiced it since boyhood, and he's an expert at it now.
He knows that one of the best ways to stay separate from the world is to live without filters. Speak out. Speak up. Speak your mind. The people who surround you will either run, or not.
Most times they run.
So Jack throws salt in the faces of those he would befriend. He challenges them with his worldview, pushes hard and fast and takes bets with himself about who will vanish, and how quickly. It's a bitter game but he's usually right.
When he realizes there is nothing he can hurl at Seeley Booth to make him turn away he tells the truth. Booth never asks, but Jack answers the questions that anger him so and lets him see the true fury and disappointment that the others never last long enough to hear. He offers up the pain that runs darker than unshed blood, deeper than politics or social obligation, wilder than the risks he takes to feel alive in the hopes that Booth will turn his back and go.
But Booth refuses to run.
Instead, he slips the green rubber band from Jack’s wrist and kisses the reddened skin it reveals. And for that moment and the precious moments that follow, with every forbidden touch and kiss and whisper, Jack is whole.
Into My World
Booth/Hodgins, Rated G
Don't own' em.
Into My World
Jack’s capacity for self-censorship has grown as he’s become more a part of the world and found bits and pieces of the life he wants and needs. As he’s found subtle ways to inch toward wholeness.
He long ago lost the capacity to believe in friendship for friendship’s sake, having been broken too many times by companions who chose him as a way to get closer to the myth of singularity that his surname carries. They never believe he doesn’t want to be “one of those Hodgins;” after all, who wouldn’t want to be part of that glorious, jet-setting machine?
Tired of never being taken at his word, he chooses solitude. He never gets too close, never gives too much of himself because when he finds someone he wants to be close to the inevitable questions always arise:
Why crave anonymity when strangers crawl at your feet just to be near you in the orbit of all that fortune and fame? Why fight to be apart from it and lift out of your dreams each morning, exhausted and jaded and asking the same soul-stealing questions of yourself every single day? Why not be the scion of the Cantilever Group and be carried along on the shoulders of the world?
He just wants to be Jack Hodgins who works in a lab and studies bugs and slime. A refugee from a life he never wanted, he’s spent 30 years running like hell from things others dream of - not the least of which is notoriety and social status. He can deal with the loneliness of keeping separate from the world. He's practiced it since boyhood, and he's an expert at it now.
He knows that one of the best ways to stay separate from the world is to live without filters. Speak out. Speak up. Speak your mind. The people who surround you will either run, or not.
Most times they run.
So Jack throws salt in the faces of those he would befriend. He challenges them with his worldview, pushes hard and fast and takes bets with himself about who will vanish, and how quickly. It's a bitter game but he's usually right.
When he realizes there is nothing he can hurl at Seeley Booth to make him turn away he tells the truth. Booth never asks, but Jack answers the questions that anger him so and lets him see the true fury and disappointment that the others never last long enough to hear. He offers up the pain that runs darker than unshed blood, deeper than politics or social obligation, wilder than the risks he takes to feel alive in the hopes that Booth will turn his back and go.
But Booth refuses to run.
Instead, he slips the green rubber band from Jack’s wrist and kisses the reddened skin it reveals. And for that moment and the precious moments that follow, with every forbidden touch and kiss and whisper, Jack is whole.