Loss, by scifislasher, Jack/Sky
Title: Loss
Author: scifislasher
Relationship:Jack/Sky
Rating: No clue. Open to suggestions
List of 22: Loss
Warning: Character death. If that squicks you, don't read.
Post-Endings
Author notes behind the cut.
Author’s Note: I wasn’t actually planning on posting this. Normally I avoid stories like this, I don’t really like reading them and I never expected to write one, but having recently lost a family member I used to be quite close to I felt like I needed to just write it and get everything out. This wasn’t originally what I had planned for this theme, but strangely enough I think it works better than what I’d already written, whatever that means. Again, if this isn’t your thing, don’t read it.
Loss
He wasn’t ready. They’d had years together but it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. They should have had more, more time to spend together, more time to spend sniping at each other and generally driving each other crazy. They should have had more. They’d both known it was coming, but that didn’t help. He’d thought he could handle this. He’d been wrong, so very wrong.
Cancer. Even now it had the power to terrify. Even with all the advances they’d made in medicine; even with access to alien technology that helped them cure illnesses they’d never been able to before; even now one word could destroy people, rip families apart.
“Get out of the way. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt us? That’s a good one.”
They hadn’t exactly got off to the best start and if anyone had told them they’d end up married of all things he would have thought they were insane. They were complete opposites, they could never agree on anything and they both always had to be right. It had taken a long time for them to come to a compromise and even after that they still clashed on a fairly regular basis.
“You think you can do a better job?”
“Yeah, but Cruger picked you. You may be wearing red, but you’re not a leader.”
Looking back, it seemed strange that they’d never seen it and they’d wasted so much time, time that now they would never get back.
“You were supposed to come after me.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t.”
All that time wasted. He should never have let such trivial things stop him from having what he wanted. But he had and he couldn’t change that, no matter how much he wanted to.
There had been a final rally a couple of days ago, after a year of wasting away, and he’d hoped, foolishly, that it was a good sign, a defiance of expectations that was completely in character. But it wasn’t to be.
“Promise me something.”
“Anything, you know that.”
“Live. Promise me you’ll live.”
About to brush it off with assurances that he would be fine and there was no need for such a promise, he’d seen the look on his partner’s face and swallowed the words unsaid.
“I will. I promise.”
He had been rewarded with a blinding smile that wrenched at his heart and a faint squeeze on his hand, a grip that held only a tiny fraction of its former strength.
That was how he came to be here, sitting by the hospital bed, holding the lifeless hand that had once been so strong. He felt another, smaller, hand slip into his free one and he didn’t need to look to know who it was.
“Come on,” Z said quietly. “We should go join the others.” Now he looked across at her, at the unshed tears bright in her eyes and he nodded numbly, giving his husband’s hand one final squeeze and he stood.
He’d promised he’d live, and he always kept his promises, no matter the cost.
Squeezing Z’s hand tightly, Sky Tate walked out of the hospital room that had become so familiar over the past couple of months, the last place to hold a living, breathing Jack Landors, his head held high, even though inside it felt as if something had broken into countless pieces and could never be fixed.
He would live, like he promised he would, but first… he would grieve.
Author: scifislasher
Relationship:Jack/Sky
Rating: No clue. Open to suggestions
List of 22: Loss
Warning: Character death. If that squicks you, don't read.
Post-Endings
Author notes behind the cut.
Author’s Note: I wasn’t actually planning on posting this. Normally I avoid stories like this, I don’t really like reading them and I never expected to write one, but having recently lost a family member I used to be quite close to I felt like I needed to just write it and get everything out. This wasn’t originally what I had planned for this theme, but strangely enough I think it works better than what I’d already written, whatever that means. Again, if this isn’t your thing, don’t read it.
Loss
He wasn’t ready. They’d had years together but it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. They should have had more, more time to spend together, more time to spend sniping at each other and generally driving each other crazy. They should have had more. They’d both known it was coming, but that didn’t help. He’d thought he could handle this. He’d been wrong, so very wrong.
Cancer. Even now it had the power to terrify. Even with all the advances they’d made in medicine; even with access to alien technology that helped them cure illnesses they’d never been able to before; even now one word could destroy people, rip families apart.
“Get out of the way. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt us? That’s a good one.”
They hadn’t exactly got off to the best start and if anyone had told them they’d end up married of all things he would have thought they were insane. They were complete opposites, they could never agree on anything and they both always had to be right. It had taken a long time for them to come to a compromise and even after that they still clashed on a fairly regular basis.
“You think you can do a better job?”
“Yeah, but Cruger picked you. You may be wearing red, but you’re not a leader.”
Looking back, it seemed strange that they’d never seen it and they’d wasted so much time, time that now they would never get back.
“You were supposed to come after me.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t.”
All that time wasted. He should never have let such trivial things stop him from having what he wanted. But he had and he couldn’t change that, no matter how much he wanted to.
There had been a final rally a couple of days ago, after a year of wasting away, and he’d hoped, foolishly, that it was a good sign, a defiance of expectations that was completely in character. But it wasn’t to be.
“Promise me something.”
“Anything, you know that.”
“Live. Promise me you’ll live.”
About to brush it off with assurances that he would be fine and there was no need for such a promise, he’d seen the look on his partner’s face and swallowed the words unsaid.
“I will. I promise.”
He had been rewarded with a blinding smile that wrenched at his heart and a faint squeeze on his hand, a grip that held only a tiny fraction of its former strength.
That was how he came to be here, sitting by the hospital bed, holding the lifeless hand that had once been so strong. He felt another, smaller, hand slip into his free one and he didn’t need to look to know who it was.
“Come on,” Z said quietly. “We should go join the others.” Now he looked across at her, at the unshed tears bright in her eyes and he nodded numbly, giving his husband’s hand one final squeeze and he stood.
He’d promised he’d live, and he always kept his promises, no matter the cost.
Squeezing Z’s hand tightly, Sky Tate walked out of the hospital room that had become so familiar over the past couple of months, the last place to hold a living, breathing Jack Landors, his head held high, even though inside it felt as if something had broken into countless pieces and could never be fixed.
He would live, like he promised he would, but first… he would grieve.