"Fallen" (Silent Hill 3, Heather/Douglas)
Title: Fallen
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 7. Fallen Leaves
Type: Fanfic
Rating: PG (for this one)
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance (building up, at least). Spoilers.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: Douglas visits a certain place every year. This year he has company.
Word Count: 881
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game. But I didn't claim her under that name since it's technically a spoiler. All or most of these stories will be a single narrative describing the relationship of Cheryl and Douglas after the game.
Fallen
The next day was Saturday and Cheryl was surprised to see Douglas awake and dressed in a suit at nine in the morning.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “It’s just something I was putting off while my leg was broken. You’ll be fine by yourself for one day, won’t you?”
“Sure, but… where are you going?”
“It’s nothing important,” he muttered. “I’ll be back way before dark.”
“Is it a job?” Cheryl persisted. Douglas had told her about the few jobs he’d had since he recovered from his injuries, even though he kept his clients’ business confidential.
“No.”
“If you don’t want to tell me I guess you don’t,” she said, completely failing to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
Douglas stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “I visit my son’s grave every year. That’s all. I’d have asked you to go but it’s a long drive and you never knew him. And he wasn’t exactly such a great person, anyway, was he?”
“I didn’t know him, but I know you,” said Cheryl.
“You can come if you want,” he said. “It won’t be a very fun trip, that’s all.”
She met him at the car, bearing a hastily made bouquet wrapped in tinfoil.
“I never even bring flowers,” said Douglas. “Where did you get those?
“That house down the street has way too many. They die if they ignore them and just get scattered everywhere,” she replied. He gave her a scolding look but just turned the key in the ignition.
It took hours of driving to get to the cemetery and Cheryl found herself uncertain what to say. She’d already pushed her way along on the trip. Prying into Douglas’s life might be going too far, though there was so much she wanted to know. In the end she put in one of the CDs she liked that seemed to annoy him the least and just closed her eyes.
The place they arrived at was surprisingly big and Cheryl could see other people winding their way through it. The path was lined with trees and covered with fallen leaves that crunched under their feet. Douglas led the way without needing a map and they stopped in front of a small headstone in a row of many nearly identical ones.
“Geoffrey Cartland,” she read. “Was he named after someone?”
“His mother’s grandfather,” said Douglas.
“Does she visit him here too?” Cheryl asked. She realized suddenly that she tried not to think about Douglas’s ex-wife, which was a little ridiculous. He had a deep past that she wasn’t going to be able to ignore if they grew closer.
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since the funeral. Not that it was much of a funeral. What do you say? ‘He was a fine boy until he tried to rob that bank.’”
“But you loved him…” she said.
Douglas nodded. “Yeah. And Geoffrey was an OK kid, believe it or not. Things could have been better for him. I used to see him after the divorce. I made sure he had food and clothes but what else could I offer him? A college education like I didn’t even get? He tried but after a while he got bitter and hopeless. I guess robbing a bank looked pretty good by then.”
Heather put one hand over his. “I’m sure he loved you too.”
“I hope so. When I was on the force I didn’t have enough time for him. His mom was always complaining. I used to buy him books and watch the football game with him I guess. And then I was gone. But I talk too much.”
She squeezed his hand. “You can talk.”
“The worst part - well, maybe it wasn’t really the worst part - was that the bank had cameras. One of my old cop buddies decided I might want to see that. My son, getting shot, lying there on the ground bleeding. Fallen and dead.” Douglas wiped at his eyes. “I never say this to anyone. And here you’ve seen worse.”
Cheryl reached up slightly and put an arm around his shoulders. “That doesn’t matter.” For a few minutes she just stood there, wishing she could comfort him further. Then she walked over to the grave and put the flowers down.
Douglas turned without a word and began walking back to the car. She ran to catch up.
“Douglas? Once you said I reminded you of him. Why?”
“I never wanted anything to happen to Geoffrey,” he replied. “But I couldn’t save him either.”
“I’m still here though,” Cheryl said. “If that helps.”
He smiled for the first time that day and then held her hand all the way back to the car. On the way home she ever heard him laugh, and they managed to start their usual argument over the radio and which songs she was certain he secretly liked.
As they pulled in the parking lot of the apartment building, Cheryl dared to grin at him. “At least I don’t remind you of your ex-wife.”
Douglas made a choking sound that she hoped was a laugh. “You remind me of yourself, Cheryl. How’s that? I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 7. Fallen Leaves
Type: Fanfic
Rating: PG (for this one)
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance (building up, at least). Spoilers.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: Douglas visits a certain place every year. This year he has company.
Word Count: 881
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game. But I didn't claim her under that name since it's technically a spoiler. All or most of these stories will be a single narrative describing the relationship of Cheryl and Douglas after the game.
Fallen
The next day was Saturday and Cheryl was surprised to see Douglas awake and dressed in a suit at nine in the morning.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “It’s just something I was putting off while my leg was broken. You’ll be fine by yourself for one day, won’t you?”
“Sure, but… where are you going?”
“It’s nothing important,” he muttered. “I’ll be back way before dark.”
“Is it a job?” Cheryl persisted. Douglas had told her about the few jobs he’d had since he recovered from his injuries, even though he kept his clients’ business confidential.
“No.”
“If you don’t want to tell me I guess you don’t,” she said, completely failing to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
Douglas stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “I visit my son’s grave every year. That’s all. I’d have asked you to go but it’s a long drive and you never knew him. And he wasn’t exactly such a great person, anyway, was he?”
“I didn’t know him, but I know you,” said Cheryl.
“You can come if you want,” he said. “It won’t be a very fun trip, that’s all.”
She met him at the car, bearing a hastily made bouquet wrapped in tinfoil.
“I never even bring flowers,” said Douglas. “Where did you get those?
“That house down the street has way too many. They die if they ignore them and just get scattered everywhere,” she replied. He gave her a scolding look but just turned the key in the ignition.
It took hours of driving to get to the cemetery and Cheryl found herself uncertain what to say. She’d already pushed her way along on the trip. Prying into Douglas’s life might be going too far, though there was so much she wanted to know. In the end she put in one of the CDs she liked that seemed to annoy him the least and just closed her eyes.
The place they arrived at was surprisingly big and Cheryl could see other people winding their way through it. The path was lined with trees and covered with fallen leaves that crunched under their feet. Douglas led the way without needing a map and they stopped in front of a small headstone in a row of many nearly identical ones.
“Geoffrey Cartland,” she read. “Was he named after someone?”
“His mother’s grandfather,” said Douglas.
“Does she visit him here too?” Cheryl asked. She realized suddenly that she tried not to think about Douglas’s ex-wife, which was a little ridiculous. He had a deep past that she wasn’t going to be able to ignore if they grew closer.
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since the funeral. Not that it was much of a funeral. What do you say? ‘He was a fine boy until he tried to rob that bank.’”
“But you loved him…” she said.
Douglas nodded. “Yeah. And Geoffrey was an OK kid, believe it or not. Things could have been better for him. I used to see him after the divorce. I made sure he had food and clothes but what else could I offer him? A college education like I didn’t even get? He tried but after a while he got bitter and hopeless. I guess robbing a bank looked pretty good by then.”
Heather put one hand over his. “I’m sure he loved you too.”
“I hope so. When I was on the force I didn’t have enough time for him. His mom was always complaining. I used to buy him books and watch the football game with him I guess. And then I was gone. But I talk too much.”
She squeezed his hand. “You can talk.”
“The worst part - well, maybe it wasn’t really the worst part - was that the bank had cameras. One of my old cop buddies decided I might want to see that. My son, getting shot, lying there on the ground bleeding. Fallen and dead.” Douglas wiped at his eyes. “I never say this to anyone. And here you’ve seen worse.”
Cheryl reached up slightly and put an arm around his shoulders. “That doesn’t matter.” For a few minutes she just stood there, wishing she could comfort him further. Then she walked over to the grave and put the flowers down.
Douglas turned without a word and began walking back to the car. She ran to catch up.
“Douglas? Once you said I reminded you of him. Why?”
“I never wanted anything to happen to Geoffrey,” he replied. “But I couldn’t save him either.”
“I’m still here though,” Cheryl said. “If that helps.”
He smiled for the first time that day and then held her hand all the way back to the car. On the way home she ever heard him laugh, and they managed to start their usual argument over the radio and which songs she was certain he secretly liked.
As they pulled in the parking lot of the apartment building, Cheryl dared to grin at him. “At least I don’t remind you of your ex-wife.”
Douglas made a choking sound that she hoped was a laugh. “You remind me of yourself, Cheryl. How’s that? I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”