Dec 13th fic prompt
Title: When the world we've made is nothing but a drone
Rating: PG
Characters: Runner, Molly (Trucker)
Disclaimer: characters don't belong to yours truly. Title taken from Sara Watkins.
Warning: None. Set before the events of the movie.
A/N: Written for sardonicynic who gave me the prompt: Trucker : Runner + Molly- with this ring I thee wed (do you, darling, till you're dead? or do you, darling, till you're bored?). And look, this one isn't going to come down to the wire!
"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" Runner asks, leaning against the counter a few feet away from Molly who's at the sink washing dishes.
She blinks out of a daze, her hands stilling inside a pot she's been mechanically scrubbing for a few minutes now.
"What?"
Runner reigns in a sigh.
"I've only asked you three times."
Molly doesn't hold hers in, reaching out to shut off the running water.
"Asked me what?"
"Did you want to go?"
Molly shakes her head like she doesn't get it, and Runner feels his jaw tic.
"The reunion, Molly. Did you want to go to the reunion?"
"Oh. That."
Oh. That.
The way she says it, and the fact that she turns the water back on is the only answer Runner needs.
"Not particularly, no."
The disappointment hits harder than Runner expects, and he can't stop himself from asking, "Why not?"
She of course counters with, "Why would you want to?"
Runner shrugs, picking a dishtowel off a cabinet door and fiddling with it in his hands.
"I dunno, it could be interesting. It's been awhile since we've seen some of the people we used to know in high school."
"Or it could be long, and boring, and we'll spend most of the time pretending we remember people we probably never even talked to back then."
Molly starts scrubbing harder, and Runner watches her hands beneath the sudsy water.
"Reunions are supposed to be fun, that's why they have them."
"If you want to go, then go."
Runner shakes his head.
"I'm not gonna go by myself."
"Then don't go."
His eyes move up from her hands to her face, and he tilts his head, trying to catch her gaze.
"Why won't you go with me?"
Dropping the pot back into the water in irritation, Molly turns to face him.
"Why do you think?"
Runner stands stumped. She gives him a Look, waiting, then shakes her head and starts scrubbing again.
Runner glances down at the dish cloth in his hands, then looks back up at her.
"You're ashamed to walk in there."
Molly shakes her head again, and bends over, eyes on what she's doing and not him.
"Just leave it alone, Runner."
"You don't want to see any of them, because you don't want them to know how we're doing."
"Would you?" She tosses her head to throw hair out of her eyes, and keeps working.
"I-- " Runner's mouth works a moment, his eyes roam over the kitchen, their home, before returning to her.
"It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?"
This time she slams down the pot and it sends up a splash of dishwater that washes over the cracked tile on the back of the sink.
"Runner, is this anything like we wanted back in high school? Is it even close? This place is a mess. I'm a waitress at some shitty truck stop diner, you're-- " She gestures at him, her motions and words incredulous.
"I'm what? An Army drop out?"
An ache fills his chest, and his hand fists in the dishcloth he's holding on to.
Molly's expression loses its edge and she gives him a pitying look, not like she's sad for what's being said, but because he should know it already.
"High school was a long time ago, Runner. We're both different people now."
She takes the towel from him and dries her hands, then walks out of the kitchen.
Runner watches her go, knowing she's right.
Rating: PG
Characters: Runner, Molly (Trucker)
Disclaimer: characters don't belong to yours truly. Title taken from Sara Watkins.
Warning: None. Set before the events of the movie.
A/N: Written for sardonicynic who gave me the prompt: Trucker : Runner + Molly- with this ring I thee wed (do you, darling, till you're dead? or do you, darling, till you're bored?). And look, this one isn't going to come down to the wire!
"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" Runner asks, leaning against the counter a few feet away from Molly who's at the sink washing dishes.
She blinks out of a daze, her hands stilling inside a pot she's been mechanically scrubbing for a few minutes now.
"What?"
Runner reigns in a sigh.
"I've only asked you three times."
Molly doesn't hold hers in, reaching out to shut off the running water.
"Asked me what?"
"Did you want to go?"
Molly shakes her head like she doesn't get it, and Runner feels his jaw tic.
"The reunion, Molly. Did you want to go to the reunion?"
"Oh. That."
Oh. That.
The way she says it, and the fact that she turns the water back on is the only answer Runner needs.
"Not particularly, no."
The disappointment hits harder than Runner expects, and he can't stop himself from asking, "Why not?"
She of course counters with, "Why would you want to?"
Runner shrugs, picking a dishtowel off a cabinet door and fiddling with it in his hands.
"I dunno, it could be interesting. It's been awhile since we've seen some of the people we used to know in high school."
"Or it could be long, and boring, and we'll spend most of the time pretending we remember people we probably never even talked to back then."
Molly starts scrubbing harder, and Runner watches her hands beneath the sudsy water.
"Reunions are supposed to be fun, that's why they have them."
"If you want to go, then go."
Runner shakes his head.
"I'm not gonna go by myself."
"Then don't go."
His eyes move up from her hands to her face, and he tilts his head, trying to catch her gaze.
"Why won't you go with me?"
Dropping the pot back into the water in irritation, Molly turns to face him.
"Why do you think?"
Runner stands stumped. She gives him a Look, waiting, then shakes her head and starts scrubbing again.
Runner glances down at the dish cloth in his hands, then looks back up at her.
"You're ashamed to walk in there."
Molly shakes her head again, and bends over, eyes on what she's doing and not him.
"Just leave it alone, Runner."
"You don't want to see any of them, because you don't want them to know how we're doing."
"Would you?" She tosses her head to throw hair out of her eyes, and keeps working.
"I-- " Runner's mouth works a moment, his eyes roam over the kitchen, their home, before returning to her.
"It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?"
This time she slams down the pot and it sends up a splash of dishwater that washes over the cracked tile on the back of the sink.
"Runner, is this anything like we wanted back in high school? Is it even close? This place is a mess. I'm a waitress at some shitty truck stop diner, you're-- " She gestures at him, her motions and words incredulous.
"I'm what? An Army drop out?"
An ache fills his chest, and his hand fists in the dishcloth he's holding on to.
Molly's expression loses its edge and she gives him a pitying look, not like she's sad for what's being said, but because he should know it already.
"High school was a long time ago, Runner. We're both different people now."
She takes the towel from him and dries her hands, then walks out of the kitchen.
Runner watches her go, knowing she's right.