Watchmen Kink Meme 2: Electric Boogaloo. Or not.
Alright, alright, I'm back now. Here ya go kids. (You're just lucky the other one didn't run out in the middle of my vacation grumble grumble)
Rules of the meme:
1. Anonymously post a pairing and prompt you would like to see written. Since this is a kink meme, there is supposted to be a kink involved, but normal well-written prompts should work ( Read more... )
Laurie Osterman
Winter air stung the tip of Laurie's nose as she sat in bed beside her sleeping husband, knees pulled close to her chest, feeling all of about six years old. Not in a good way.
Christmas had been nice, the whole conglomeration of family and nearly-family all under one roof and peaceful in a way which helped her feel like a civilized member of society, and a little less like the wild creature she had been as a little girl.
That muffled buzz of arguing sounding through the wall was putting a little bit of a dent in that.
She knew the voices better than anything. Her mother and father. Yes, she knew. Boy, did she ever know. All of Hollis's careful silences and her mother's careful avoidances and her father's careful jokes made it patently, nearly insultingly obvious. No, not nearly insulting: clearly insulting. She'd known since she was seven years old, for God's sake-she'd have to be blind, insane, or in some horribly deep level of repression to miss the clues all this time.
(Jon had been sitting beside her at some town function or another when they were still strangers, and spoke to her completely out of the blue: "I am 90% certain that Edward Blake is your father." She'd laughed herself dizzily sick and started loving him right then.)
But she played along in their little game like a doll on strings, except for the fact that she saw the strings. It was easier in some ways. She'd had all her mother's old friends as doting Uncles (and Auntie), there every step of the way to keep her from breaking every bone in her body from the way she used to clamber around. More surrogate parents than most people had real parents, and getting to know Walter (more of a wild thing than even she'd been and so motherless it hurt) gave her a nice and heavy sense of guilt for not being more grateful for them all.
Sighing, she pressed her nose into the flat of her palm to warm it, certain that this mood of hers was not the approved holiday mood. If there weren't three parental figures staying in her house at that very moment, she'd be outside communing with one of her precious, rare collection of cigarettes.
Their train had gotten back just in time for New Year's Eve. The party had gathered together for a cozy toast while Jon's father's clocks all hit midnight in a cascading trill, echoing the new year down into every hall and room. Dan and Walter excused themselves soon after, either tired out from her endless parade of family or eager to get back to whatever they did that produced that nice purple welt under Walter's collar. Most likely both.
She'd have to be blind to miss that too, but at least that was a pleasant secret.
Jon must have sensed her absence beside him in his sleep. He stirred and woke to sit next to her, his hand going automatically to her back. She arched her spine into the welcome touch.
"Laurie? What-" His head tilted in the dark, taking in those voices: one high, one low, both terribly unhappy. "I see."
His hand remained where it was, heavy, warming her skin through the layers of her nightclothes. Laurie breathed slow, trying to absorb some of that depthless calm he carried with him so effortlessly.
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