Empty Spaces by Foxriver Lady
Title: Empty Spaces
Author: foxriver_lady
Rating: PG-13 (one f-word)
Category: Post-Escape, Gen, Angst
Summary: Linc struggles with loss, hitting him harder than he ever expected.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I just like playing with them for my own entertainment.
Author's Note: A big thankyou to sarah_scribbles for her ideas inspiring this little ficlet, and for her cheerleading, and also to the awesome mrs_spleen, who was so totally there for me just when I needed her, and at such short notice. *g*
~ * ~
The sun slowly set, streaking shades of purple and red across the evening desert sky, breathing a picturesque glow over the horizon that was picture perfect, a panorama of colour and tranquility.
But for Lincoln, the beauty was lost.
His jaw was tight with unspoken emotion, the painful ache in his chest so fierce he could barely breathe, let alone speak. The pain filled his lungs to bursting, burning and searing in its wake, each pulse of blood through his veins sending renewed throbbing to his gut where his heart lay open, gaping and raw.
He sat on his haunches, brushing the dirt from his hands, his eyes following the outline of the carefully and methodically stacked rocks in front of him with the makeshift cross at its head, confirming what his heart desperately sought to deny.
It was impossible to justify this loss; it was too close to home, too hard to bear.
A wave of guilt flooded him; if only he had convinced Aldo to stay with LJ, if only they hadn’t stopped when they did.
If only, if only, if fucking only.
There were hundreds of them in his head, all buzzing around, taunting him with their reasons.
His fists tightened; the futility of it all jarred his senses. There were so many things he should have said, things he should have done. The cruel fact was now he’d never get the chance.
Michael sat across from him, pale and silent, his vivid cerulean eyes glassy and emotive; long fingers absently toying with a smaller rock left over, rolling it in the palm of his hand.
He watched his younger brother, feeling his obvious distress mingle with his own, wanting so badly to ease the burden he felt. He knew how Michael could turn things around in his head; it was only a matter of time before Michael would find numerous reasons to blame himself.
But it wasn’t any one person or any one event; something like this was impossible to explain, unconsciously similar to the lingering feelings he had about Aldo’s death.
They were unbidden, complicated. And just there.
It was so senseless, which made his death so hard to accept; it should have been a brief moment of something good, a chance to rediscover what they had lost; a sunset shared with his brother and their long-lost father, a beginning upon which they could build.
But it disappeared in an instant, an enemy’s bullet stealing away the father he had tried to hate but couldn’t, his reasons for leaving mirroring some of his own with LJ, and leaving a gaping hole in his heart he never expected to feel so acutely.
The man whose existence he’d spent years trying to erase from his memory was now in the ground, underneath a pile of rock in a makeshift anonymous grave.
The irony was as vicious as it was final, leaving a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth and an empty space inside he knew he would struggle to ever fill.
~ * ~
Author: foxriver_lady
Rating: PG-13 (one f-word)
Category: Post-Escape, Gen, Angst
Summary: Linc struggles with loss, hitting him harder than he ever expected.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I just like playing with them for my own entertainment.
Author's Note: A big thankyou to sarah_scribbles for her ideas inspiring this little ficlet, and for her cheerleading, and also to the awesome mrs_spleen, who was so totally there for me just when I needed her, and at such short notice. *g*
~ * ~
The sun slowly set, streaking shades of purple and red across the evening desert sky, breathing a picturesque glow over the horizon that was picture perfect, a panorama of colour and tranquility.
But for Lincoln, the beauty was lost.
His jaw was tight with unspoken emotion, the painful ache in his chest so fierce he could barely breathe, let alone speak. The pain filled his lungs to bursting, burning and searing in its wake, each pulse of blood through his veins sending renewed throbbing to his gut where his heart lay open, gaping and raw.
He sat on his haunches, brushing the dirt from his hands, his eyes following the outline of the carefully and methodically stacked rocks in front of him with the makeshift cross at its head, confirming what his heart desperately sought to deny.
It was impossible to justify this loss; it was too close to home, too hard to bear.
A wave of guilt flooded him; if only he had convinced Aldo to stay with LJ, if only they hadn’t stopped when they did.
If only, if only, if fucking only.
There were hundreds of them in his head, all buzzing around, taunting him with their reasons.
His fists tightened; the futility of it all jarred his senses. There were so many things he should have said, things he should have done. The cruel fact was now he’d never get the chance.
Michael sat across from him, pale and silent, his vivid cerulean eyes glassy and emotive; long fingers absently toying with a smaller rock left over, rolling it in the palm of his hand.
He watched his younger brother, feeling his obvious distress mingle with his own, wanting so badly to ease the burden he felt. He knew how Michael could turn things around in his head; it was only a matter of time before Michael would find numerous reasons to blame himself.
But it wasn’t any one person or any one event; something like this was impossible to explain, unconsciously similar to the lingering feelings he had about Aldo’s death.
They were unbidden, complicated. And just there.
It was so senseless, which made his death so hard to accept; it should have been a brief moment of something good, a chance to rediscover what they had lost; a sunset shared with his brother and their long-lost father, a beginning upon which they could build.
But it disappeared in an instant, an enemy’s bullet stealing away the father he had tried to hate but couldn’t, his reasons for leaving mirroring some of his own with LJ, and leaving a gaping hole in his heart he never expected to feel so acutely.
The man whose existence he’d spent years trying to erase from his memory was now in the ground, underneath a pile of rock in a makeshift anonymous grave.
The irony was as vicious as it was final, leaving a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth and an empty space inside he knew he would struggle to ever fill.
~ * ~