[OHGODAFIC] Something Closer to Tomorrow
Fandom: Red Robin
Rating: PG-13 at best
Summary: [1037 words] One shot. Heroes rescue people, which means there's always more than one point of view to every story. This is one of them.
Notes: Sparked by a line from the first issue of Red Robin. I don't buy that TIm is suddenly grimdark unfeeling vigilante asshole and I always love writing superhero stories from the civilian perspective. I haven't written fics meant to post in years so...hmm...humor me I guess? This will either happen more frequently or never again.
The thing is she’s so sure she’s going to die. It had stopped being a possibility and turned into a glaring definite when she had spoken to her father over the phone. Her last phone call, the last time she would hear her father’s voice. She wasn’t stupid. She read books and newspapers and her parents had always impressed upon her what sort of bad people who wanted to hurt her were out there. It had been a way to dissuade her of trying to sneak away from her bodyguards. Well… she hadn’t tried to sneak away and it hadn’t made any difference. They keep her blindfolded almost constantly. Tape over her mouth, hands and feet bound. Yessenia thinks maybe she’s just happy that they put her on a mattress rather than the floor.
She also thinks she’d be a lot happier if they’d just let her go.
She cries a lot for the first few hours, begs a little bit until one of them slaps her across the face. That shuts her up. She spends a lot of time lying on the mattress and thinking. About her family, her friends, school. She remembers a gala her father took her to once and a boy that was there. The son of some Northern European politician, she couldn’t remember who, only that his hair was a dark sort of red and his eyes were a really beautiful green and that she was going to email him when she got home that night. She thinks about green eyes and sneaking off to kiss behind all the limos and tries to not cry again.
And then there’s crashing noises and the sound of gunshots and she feels herself go all tense, eyes wide behind the blindfold as she realizes the fighting was in the ROOM now. Shouts and heavy thuds and it seems like it’s all happening so fast and she can feel a sudden heat and smell that unmistakable scent of burning wood.
Everything goes still for a moment and then there are hands on her again. She starts to struggle until the hands go to the blind fold. It falls away and she stares up at… a masked man… And he’s speaking now, in a deep rough voice. “It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.”
She nods. He cuts away the ropes at her wrists and ankles and she pulls off the tape at her mouth herself. She tries to say something, but already the hooded man is picking her up, heading for the window and there are men bursting through the door and all she can hear is the deep rough voice. “Don’t be scared. It’ll be okay.”
And… It’s like they’re flying… Falling really, she amends, clinging to him and staring at the quickly approaching street before they swing up and into the air. She can’t even scream, it’s all caught up inside of her and the hooded stranger (all she can think about is Superman, he visited their country once when she was small and she didn’t MEET him, but she stood not far away from him during the dinner just staring because it was Superman and that’s what you do when you’re an 8 year old child meeting someone that big for the first time and he looked over at her and sort of smiled and winked) is swinging them down, holding her with firm strong hands.
“We’re here.” They’re in front of the police station and she knows it’s time to let go, the hooded man is even pulling gently at her arms as if to indicate that it’s time to let go. Yessenia’s body feels frozen, but her arms tighten around the man instead of letting go.
All of a sudden she isn’t going to die.
Her breath comes out shuddery through her mouth, she can feel how huge her eyes are and she knows she must look ridiculous. The hooded man sits them down on the roof and rubs her back while she tries to remember how to breathe again. “It’s okay,” he says, the rough voice going gentle and young for a moment, “You’re safe now, it’s all right.”
She wonders about him. About how old he really is, where he’s from, what his name is. The world is full of masked people who go about rescuing others, but she can’t say she’s ever met one in quite this way before. She’s pretty sure she never wants to again. And she STILL can’t let go, but the man doesn’t say anything about it. He just strokes her back, talking in that rough voice she knows can be gentle and young and letting her hold on until she can finally breathe normally again. She takes one deep breath and lets go of the man, stepping away a bit. It’s like letting go of her father’s hands the first time she was learning how to swim. For a minute she’s scared and feels as though she’s drowning, but she takes a deep breath and nods at the man.
He smiles at her, a quick little flash of a smile that’s there and gone, before they both turn and he walks her into the police station. He stays long enough to make sure the cops see her, sees the entire station explode in a flurry of relief and phone calls and she feels him drop a hand to her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as her father bursts out of some office and sweeps her up. As far as Yessenia knows, the hooded man stays long enough to answer the necessary questions and then he’s gone again, before she can even thank him.
Her father says that’s typical of men like him, but he’s smiling and her mother is crying and hugging her tightly. Yessenia hugs her back and closes her eyes, taking in the smell of her mother’s perfume and thinking about two strong firm hands and a deep rough voice that’s really young and gentle.
She really will have to email the European boy when she gets home. Maybe his family will let her come up for a little while to visit. She hasn’t really been to Paris before.
End
I drop the girl off with the local police. Took her ten minutes to let go of me.
Rating: PG-13 at best
Summary: [1037 words] One shot. Heroes rescue people, which means there's always more than one point of view to every story. This is one of them.
Notes: Sparked by a line from the first issue of Red Robin. I don't buy that TIm is suddenly grimdark unfeeling vigilante asshole and I always love writing superhero stories from the civilian perspective. I haven't written fics meant to post in years so...hmm...humor me I guess? This will either happen more frequently or never again.
The thing is she’s so sure she’s going to die. It had stopped being a possibility and turned into a glaring definite when she had spoken to her father over the phone. Her last phone call, the last time she would hear her father’s voice. She wasn’t stupid. She read books and newspapers and her parents had always impressed upon her what sort of bad people who wanted to hurt her were out there. It had been a way to dissuade her of trying to sneak away from her bodyguards. Well… she hadn’t tried to sneak away and it hadn’t made any difference. They keep her blindfolded almost constantly. Tape over her mouth, hands and feet bound. Yessenia thinks maybe she’s just happy that they put her on a mattress rather than the floor.
She also thinks she’d be a lot happier if they’d just let her go.
She cries a lot for the first few hours, begs a little bit until one of them slaps her across the face. That shuts her up. She spends a lot of time lying on the mattress and thinking. About her family, her friends, school. She remembers a gala her father took her to once and a boy that was there. The son of some Northern European politician, she couldn’t remember who, only that his hair was a dark sort of red and his eyes were a really beautiful green and that she was going to email him when she got home that night. She thinks about green eyes and sneaking off to kiss behind all the limos and tries to not cry again.
And then there’s crashing noises and the sound of gunshots and she feels herself go all tense, eyes wide behind the blindfold as she realizes the fighting was in the ROOM now. Shouts and heavy thuds and it seems like it’s all happening so fast and she can feel a sudden heat and smell that unmistakable scent of burning wood.
Everything goes still for a moment and then there are hands on her again. She starts to struggle until the hands go to the blind fold. It falls away and she stares up at… a masked man… And he’s speaking now, in a deep rough voice. “It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.”
She nods. He cuts away the ropes at her wrists and ankles and she pulls off the tape at her mouth herself. She tries to say something, but already the hooded man is picking her up, heading for the window and there are men bursting through the door and all she can hear is the deep rough voice. “Don’t be scared. It’ll be okay.”
And… It’s like they’re flying… Falling really, she amends, clinging to him and staring at the quickly approaching street before they swing up and into the air. She can’t even scream, it’s all caught up inside of her and the hooded stranger (all she can think about is Superman, he visited their country once when she was small and she didn’t MEET him, but she stood not far away from him during the dinner just staring because it was Superman and that’s what you do when you’re an 8 year old child meeting someone that big for the first time and he looked over at her and sort of smiled and winked) is swinging them down, holding her with firm strong hands.
“We’re here.” They’re in front of the police station and she knows it’s time to let go, the hooded man is even pulling gently at her arms as if to indicate that it’s time to let go. Yessenia’s body feels frozen, but her arms tighten around the man instead of letting go.
All of a sudden she isn’t going to die.
Her breath comes out shuddery through her mouth, she can feel how huge her eyes are and she knows she must look ridiculous. The hooded man sits them down on the roof and rubs her back while she tries to remember how to breathe again. “It’s okay,” he says, the rough voice going gentle and young for a moment, “You’re safe now, it’s all right.”
She wonders about him. About how old he really is, where he’s from, what his name is. The world is full of masked people who go about rescuing others, but she can’t say she’s ever met one in quite this way before. She’s pretty sure she never wants to again. And she STILL can’t let go, but the man doesn’t say anything about it. He just strokes her back, talking in that rough voice she knows can be gentle and young and letting her hold on until she can finally breathe normally again. She takes one deep breath and lets go of the man, stepping away a bit. It’s like letting go of her father’s hands the first time she was learning how to swim. For a minute she’s scared and feels as though she’s drowning, but she takes a deep breath and nods at the man.
He smiles at her, a quick little flash of a smile that’s there and gone, before they both turn and he walks her into the police station. He stays long enough to make sure the cops see her, sees the entire station explode in a flurry of relief and phone calls and she feels him drop a hand to her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as her father bursts out of some office and sweeps her up. As far as Yessenia knows, the hooded man stays long enough to answer the necessary questions and then he’s gone again, before she can even thank him.
Her father says that’s typical of men like him, but he’s smiling and her mother is crying and hugging her tightly. Yessenia hugs her back and closes her eyes, taking in the smell of her mother’s perfume and thinking about two strong firm hands and a deep rough voice that’s really young and gentle.
She really will have to email the European boy when she gets home. Maybe his family will let her come up for a little while to visit. She hasn’t really been to Paris before.
End
I drop the girl off with the local police. Took her ten minutes to let go of me.