FIC: "Four Things" (Buck; gen)
Due to some weirdness right now, this journal is deleted, but it'll be back soon. In the meantime, I'm posting my Drop into Holland fic for hiyacynth here. Thanks to nullsechs, who listened to me ramble about trauma, and to abyssinia4077, who beta-ed and talked to me about bleeding to death. We are cheery people.
( 'Four Things' [Buck; gen] )
( 'Four Things' [Buck; gen] )
Comments 13
Will read again this afternoon, and comment in more detail. I just realized my milk-shake date is going to be here in half an hour and I haven't showered or anything.
THANK YOU!!! I LUFF IT!
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Okay, what an amazing opening sequence. The second paragraph, particularly, killed me. This sentence: Buck thinks maybe five years. is so brilliant. You're right there with Buck, on this tiny thin ledge between reason and insanity, and it just makes me weep for poor strapping Buck who's never ever going to be the golden boy again.
all Buck could smell was his wounds.
First: Eew. Second: More eew plus ow. Third: omg poor poor Buck is so in the same hospital as poor poor Joe. Someone should sue.
Sure, there are still nights-but he doesn’t remember the nights, mostly, and if he doesn’t remember they can’t be all that bad.
Saddest sentence ever.
Oh, wait, then there's this thast might just win: Because he’s four bullet-holes heavier, and that’s a weight no one should have to shoulder.
“I’ve got no legs,” Buck says evenly. “Oh, Christ.”
O won't you please stop breaking my heart? Please? This line kills me. It's too sad and perfect and beautiful and broken and Buck.
“You a medic now, ( ... )
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Okay, what an amazing opening sequence. The second paragraph, particularly, killed me. This sentence: Buck thinks maybe five years. is so brilliant.
Eeee, so happy to hear this. I actually wrote the opening sequence in my head while I was walking along the street on a lunch break, and then typed it up when I got back to work, so it still feels very strange to me. I forget where it came from, sort of. :)
And then OMG Johnny! I was really not expecting that. He's so... JOHNNY. I love you.
I had so much fun putting Johnny in. I was like "So, who would get really pissed off at the replacement and then articulate it? --Hello, Johnny Martin!"
You rock my world. Thank you so much.
You're very, very welcome. I'm just thrilled you liked it.
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Still with the Buckfic love...
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Buck keeps trying to figure out which farm country, the Midwest or Texas or maybe even a ranch in California, but when the soldier screams his voice carries no accent.
Four, the soldier took a bullet through the back of his head in a picturesque little town in Holland, and it left his larynx intact but destroyed his brain.
For a moment he’s back there on the turf, gasping so hard his ears pop;
It was just a crease in the blankets; maybe purposefully made, maybe just a coincidence, nothingness forged by accident into shape and meaning. McCarthy has no legs, at all.
* * *
“I’ve got no legs,” Buck says evenly. “Oh, Christ.”
AND JOHNNY! that was such a grand cameo :D
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Yes! That's exactly what I was going for, and I worried a lot that I didn't achieve the correct effect; that it just seemed awkward and abrupt. So pleased that you understood what I was doing. Thank you!
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Great job. You've captured everything in such a real and heartbreaking way.
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