Icon Prompt Fest
Ganked from dmk0064:
Use one of your favorite icons, and post a ONE WORD prompt with it in the comments. I will then write you a ficlet to go with it.
The fandoms I will write for:
White Collar
Grimm
Star Trek AOS
Glee
Sherlock
Leverage
Your icon need not be fandom-specific, mind you. If you want to post a picture of a despairing panda, go for it.
Aaaaaand... GO!
Use one of your favorite icons, and post a ONE WORD prompt with it in the comments. I will then write you a ficlet to go with it.
The fandoms I will write for:
White Collar
Grimm
Star Trek AOS
Glee
Sherlock
Leverage
Your icon need not be fandom-specific, mind you. If you want to post a picture of a despairing panda, go for it.
Aaaaaand... GO!
Neal clenched his jaw as the priest droned on, trying to keep his grief in check.
Ellen!
He put his head back and stared at the sun to stop the tears from coming, clenching his hands around the bunch of flowers he held. He felt the paper wrapping crinkle in his hands, and glanced down at them as if he’d forgotten about them.
Peonies - Ellen’s favorite. Their light fragrance wafted up to his face and he closed his eyes, remembering.
----
It was the week before his 18th birthday, and she’d had to tell him about his history, about his father the murderer, the betrayer of everything, the dirty cop. She’d been puttering in her garden when he’d come to her, fertilizing the peonies, whose season was so very short, when she told him - quietly, so very quietly - that his entire world had been built on a foundation of shifting sand, of lies and half-truths, and he wasn’t who he thought he was. His name, his personality, none of it was his. He’d raged at her, even lashed out at her, and she’d let him, told him she didn’t blame him, and then he’d left her house, telling her he hated her.
He’d spent the night walking the streets of St. Louis, had wound up huddled under a dock by the river at one point, utterly miserable and swearing he’d never go back. But he had, if briefly. And she had been in her garden yet again, fussing with the peonies.
“You know, they say that if the little ants didn’t eat away at the calyx, the peony’s blossoms would choke and die,” she said to him without turning around.
“Sounds brutal. And gross.”
“The flower never reaches its full potential without first being half destroyed.” She got up off her knees and turned to face him, tears in her blue eyes.
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” he asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone.
“It’s just a fact of nature, Danny.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s not me.”
“You’re you.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Danny -“
“I have to leave. I can’t stay here.”
“Please don’t. You’ll get through this, you know you will.”
“That’s just the problem, I know nothing. My whole life is a lie!”
“Oh, honey,” she whispered, pulling the gardening gloves off and reaching for his face with her small, soft hand.
He pulled away, and angry tears filled his eyes. “I came to say goodbye, Ellen.”
“Don’t -“
“I have to. I have to figure things out for myself. Say you understand, even if you don’t.”
She took a shuddering breath before speaking again. When she did, her shoulders were hunched and the tears fell down her cheeks. “I understand.”
----
Neal couldn’t stop the tears falling now as he stepped forward to leave the bouquet of peonies on Ellen’s coffin. He looked down on the delicate pink blossoms and saw a tiny black ant crawling among the petals. He extended a finger and let the insect crawl along it, watching its tentative progress along his palm, then leaned over to lay the flowers gently on the polished maple.
“Thanks for helping me reach my full potential,” he murmured, and finally rested his palm on the coffin. The ant crawled off and away and he lost track of it.
“Thanks for being my ant.”
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I really liked how this came out - I may have to post it properly.
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