FIC: Nothing But The Truth, So Help Me God
I’m really cut up about David Laws resigning from the coalition, though I think he made the right decision ultimately. This fic came out of late-night sadness and far too many listens to ‘Run’ by Snow Patrol and Leona Lewis.
Vague sketchy ideas taken from this article.
Disclaimer: This is how it might have gone down, except it didn’t.
*
Cameron banged his fist into his hand. ‘We can’t let you go, David! You must see that.’
It was a little bit odd to hear a Tory beg him again. He compressed his lips against the tears, and responded with the calm he was known for. It was all he had left.
‘I’ve made my decision, I’m afraid. I have no moral authority any longer -‘
‘Nonsense,’ Clegg interrupted. ‘You’ve done the right thing already in turning yourself over to Parliamentary Standards. Say to the media that you’ve offered to resign, and we’ll say we refused to allow it.’
He shook his head, smiling. Dear old Nick. He did hope that Cameron wouldn’t eat him for breakfast in the future.
‘I sincerely thank you for all you’ve done.’ He looked at them both. ‘But you don’t want me getting in the way.’
Nick huffed in a sort of desperate exasperation. Cameron got up, his eyes the kindest David had ever seen them, and came forward. The other two rose instinctively. His handshake was firm. ‘We can’t say any more. I deeply regret this.’
David swallowed. His voice remained steady. ‘So do I.’ He thought about James. It had to be enough.
‘You’ll be back, David,’ Nick said, and embraced him. David hardly felt it; a part of him couldn’t really believe this was happening, even as he wished the two leaders well, and discussed a few last minute ideas to pass on to Danny.
He left the office, unsure as to whether his feet were touching the ground. Nothing seemed real.
He hurried to the waiting car. The short ride to the Treasury had never gone so quickly. He felt, dimly, that it was unfair. Shouldn’t everything be in slow motion?
One last time into the building as Chief Secretary. He had a sudden urge to find a pot plant from here to take home to James. It couldn’t hurt now.
*
7.50pm. He clicked the lid on his fountain pen and laid it carefully beside the neat papers on his desk. His stomach was jumping; there was just time to go to the toilet again. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror to straighten his tie.
He couldn’t meet his own eyes for a minute, then forced himself. The reflection looked at him with compassion.
It was over, and it was time to say so.
He went out to face the cameras.
*
have heart, my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess
Snow Patrol, ‘Run’
Vague sketchy ideas taken from this article.
Disclaimer: This is how it might have gone down, except it didn’t.
*
Cameron banged his fist into his hand. ‘We can’t let you go, David! You must see that.’
It was a little bit odd to hear a Tory beg him again. He compressed his lips against the tears, and responded with the calm he was known for. It was all he had left.
‘I’ve made my decision, I’m afraid. I have no moral authority any longer -‘
‘Nonsense,’ Clegg interrupted. ‘You’ve done the right thing already in turning yourself over to Parliamentary Standards. Say to the media that you’ve offered to resign, and we’ll say we refused to allow it.’
He shook his head, smiling. Dear old Nick. He did hope that Cameron wouldn’t eat him for breakfast in the future.
‘I sincerely thank you for all you’ve done.’ He looked at them both. ‘But you don’t want me getting in the way.’
Nick huffed in a sort of desperate exasperation. Cameron got up, his eyes the kindest David had ever seen them, and came forward. The other two rose instinctively. His handshake was firm. ‘We can’t say any more. I deeply regret this.’
David swallowed. His voice remained steady. ‘So do I.’ He thought about James. It had to be enough.
‘You’ll be back, David,’ Nick said, and embraced him. David hardly felt it; a part of him couldn’t really believe this was happening, even as he wished the two leaders well, and discussed a few last minute ideas to pass on to Danny.
He left the office, unsure as to whether his feet were touching the ground. Nothing seemed real.
He hurried to the waiting car. The short ride to the Treasury had never gone so quickly. He felt, dimly, that it was unfair. Shouldn’t everything be in slow motion?
One last time into the building as Chief Secretary. He had a sudden urge to find a pot plant from here to take home to James. It couldn’t hurt now.
*
7.50pm. He clicked the lid on his fountain pen and laid it carefully beside the neat papers on his desk. His stomach was jumping; there was just time to go to the toilet again. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror to straighten his tie.
He couldn’t meet his own eyes for a minute, then forced himself. The reflection looked at him with compassion.
It was over, and it was time to say so.
He went out to face the cameras.
*
have heart, my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess
Snow Patrol, ‘Run’