Fic: One Last Time
Title:One Last Chance
Author:EtherealFlaim
Rating:PG-13
Fandom:Terminator - The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Characters:Derek/Kyle
Summary:With the weight on your shoulders, sometimes just anyone won't do.
Author's Notes:This takes place before what we know to be the last time Derek sees his brother. Written for dramady and the hibernating fandom over at scc_slash. Wake up, people! Look what you're missing!
Derek and the graveyard watch had quite the love-hate relationship. Derek loved the peace and quiet of being up above on these nights, but hated how he jumped at every noise and saw danger in every shifting shadow. He adored the feel of the cool wind blowing through his hair, but detested the sharp smell of decay. He loved the solitude of the night, but hated the oppressive loneliness which occasionally set its grip on his heart with vice-like force.
He was leaning more toward the love side of things tonight, as he stood in the shadows and gazed up at more stars than he had been able to see in a long time. He was sufficiently distracted that he didn't jump when Kyle climbed out of the steel trap, he merely turned his head to see the source of the noise.
"Hey Derek."
Derek pulled the handkerchief down from his face. "What's up?" he asked. "Couldn't sleep?" Derek knew the answer to that question-- neither of them have had a good night's sleep for weeks. The tunnels below were getting far too crowded, far too loud... and that's not even counting the nights the nightmares robbed from them.
"Worse than usual." Kyle walked over and stood beside Derek in silence, following his gaze upward. After a few moments, he sat down at his brother's feet and stared at his hands.
Derek sighed knowingly, running his fingers through his brother's grimy hair as he joined him on the ground.
"You're welcome to stand watch with me tonight, if you want." Derek watched his brother smile slightly at this, but his gloomy expression returned within seconds. He maintained his silence, knowing that whatever was bothering Kyle enough to bring him up here would eventually reveal itself.
Derek watched as Kyle held a hand out in front of his face, apparently very interested in the lines on his palms.
"I heard you say my name this morning," Kyle said, his voice barely a whisper. "Right before you woke up." He looked up at Derek, a pleading look in his eyes, af he needed to see a reaction.
Derek gave none. He maintained his unwavering gaze and did not break eye contact. He had been taking care of his little brother since they were kids... if it surprised anyone that he loved his brother, that someone obviously had no idea what it meant to care about another person more than yourself.
"That's not why you came up here." It was not a question.
"No, no you're right." Kyle hung his head. "I can't stop my thoughts still enough to go to sleep.
"John Connor came to see me this morning, before anyone else was awake."
That explains why he was awake before I was, thought Derek.
"He has a mission that he wants me to complete. That he only trusts me to do. And it would be such an honor..." His voice trailed off into the night.
"But?"
"But I'm scared shitless, Derek." Kyle looked up at him and met his eyes, and he instantly understood. Out here, fear of the machines was something to remember, a tool to use to keep your wits sharp and your eyes sharper. But the fear that Kyle was talking about was of a different sort. He knew because he'd felt it himself-- the fear that he might fail, that he might let the resistance down, but above all... that in failing, he might never see his brother again.
Derek reached out and took his brother's hand. Still maintaining eye contact, he says "John Connor trusts you above all others. If he has a friend in this sorry excuse for an existence, it's you. When he asks you to go, you go. Go with my blessing. And when you've completed your mission, you'll come back and we'll laugh about all of this."
A small smile crept its way onto Kyle's unshaven face, and he squeezed Derek's hand. Derek reached out with his other hand and thumbed his brother's cheek, feeling that it was still slightly damp. He felt his heart break a little when he thought of Kyle crying to himself quietly, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the people below who looked up to him as a hero. He let his hand rest there, against the side of that impossibly young face. "You'll be fine, baby brother."
When he thought about it later, Derek didn't know who had moved first, but in either case, the two men soon found their faces inches apart, lips slightly parted, gazing into one another's eyes as if asking for permission that they both know they have.
Derek closed his eyes and tilted his head sideways, closing the mile-wide gap. When their lips met, he felt as if every nerve in his body were on fire. The sensations were too much to process. As his brother's tongue glided easily into his mouth, he marveled that they had never kissed before. His brother's mouth was incredibly soft, but still strong. His lips were small, but sure, and his tongue was warm and confident as it danced across his lips. Derek let go of his brother's hand and moved closer to his brother, pulling their faces together as the kiss grew more passionate. Battling for territory in his brother's mouth, he explored and staked his claim on every inch of the lucious lips and inviting mouth before him.
Kyle's mouth slid away from his, bringing the cold chill of the night air to his lips as he felt a thin, wet trail trace its way along his jawline and up to his ear and engulf his earlobe. Shivers went down his spine, and he whimpered quietly when his brother lightly bit the soft, pliable skin. Kyle pulled away from his ear, and settled himself down, nestling his head in the crook of Derek's neck.
They sat there that way, just enjoying the warmth and company, until Derek felt Kyle beginning to nod off to sleep. Before his brother could be fully claimed by unconsciousness, he leaned in and placed a final kiss on the smiling lips beneath him, and that kiss said everything that neither of them would--or could--verbalize.
I'll miss you, it said. I'll see you soon, it said.
But most of all, as Kyle drifted to sleep curled up in the warmth of his big brother's arms, it said:
I love you. Comments and (constructive) criticism are like warm hug on a cold day! Always, always welcome.
Derek and the graveyard watch had quite the love-hate relationship. Derek loved the peace and quiet of being up above on these nights, but hated how he jumped at every noise and saw danger in every shifting shadow. He adored the feel of the cool wind blowing through his hair, but detested the sharp smell of decay. He loved the solitude of the night, but hated the oppressive loneliness which occasionally set its grip on his heart with vice-like force.
He was leaning more toward the love side of things tonight, as he stood in the shadows and gazed up at more stars than he had been able to see in a long time. He was sufficiently distracted that he didn't jump when Kyle climbed out of the steel trap, he merely turned his head to see the source of the noise.
"Hey Derek."
Derek pulled the handkerchief down from his face. "What's up?" he asked. "Couldn't sleep?" Derek knew the answer to that question-- neither of them have had a good night's sleep for weeks. The tunnels below were getting far too crowded, far too loud... and that's not even counting the nights the nightmares robbed from them.
"Worse than usual." Kyle walked over and stood beside Derek in silence, following his gaze upward. After a few moments, he sat down at his brother's feet and stared at his hands.
Derek sighed knowingly, running his fingers through his brother's grimy hair as he joined him on the ground.
"You're welcome to stand watch with me tonight, if you want." Derek watched his brother smile slightly at this, but his gloomy expression returned within seconds. He maintained his silence, knowing that whatever was bothering Kyle enough to bring him up here would eventually reveal itself.
Derek watched as Kyle held a hand out in front of his face, apparently very interested in the lines on his palms.
"I heard you say my name this morning," Kyle said, his voice barely a whisper. "Right before you woke up." He looked up at Derek, a pleading look in his eyes, af he needed to see a reaction.
Derek gave none. He maintained his unwavering gaze and did not break eye contact. He had been taking care of his little brother since they were kids... if it surprised anyone that he loved his brother, that someone obviously had no idea what it meant to care about another person more than yourself.
"That's not why you came up here." It was not a question.
"No, no you're right." Kyle hung his head. "I can't stop my thoughts still enough to go to sleep.
"John Connor came to see me this morning, before anyone else was awake."
That explains why he was awake before I was, thought Derek.
"He has a mission that he wants me to complete. That he only trusts me to do. And it would be such an honor..." His voice trailed off into the night.
"But?"
"But I'm scared shitless, Derek." Kyle looked up at him and met his eyes, and he instantly understood. Out here, fear of the machines was something to remember, a tool to use to keep your wits sharp and your eyes sharper. But the fear that Kyle was talking about was of a different sort. He knew because he'd felt it himself-- the fear that he might fail, that he might let the resistance down, but above all... that in failing, he might never see his brother again.
Derek reached out and took his brother's hand. Still maintaining eye contact, he says "John Connor trusts you above all others. If he has a friend in this sorry excuse for an existence, it's you. When he asks you to go, you go. Go with my blessing. And when you've completed your mission, you'll come back and we'll laugh about all of this."
A small smile crept its way onto Kyle's unshaven face, and he squeezed Derek's hand. Derek reached out with his other hand and thumbed his brother's cheek, feeling that it was still slightly damp. He felt his heart break a little when he thought of Kyle crying to himself quietly, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the people below who looked up to him as a hero. He let his hand rest there, against the side of that impossibly young face. "You'll be fine, baby brother."
When he thought about it later, Derek didn't know who had moved first, but in either case, the two men soon found their faces inches apart, lips slightly parted, gazing into one another's eyes as if asking for permission that they both know they have.
Derek closed his eyes and tilted his head sideways, closing the mile-wide gap. When their lips met, he felt as if every nerve in his body were on fire. The sensations were too much to process. As his brother's tongue glided easily into his mouth, he marveled that they had never kissed before. His brother's mouth was incredibly soft, but still strong. His lips were small, but sure, and his tongue was warm and confident as it danced across his lips. Derek let go of his brother's hand and moved closer to his brother, pulling their faces together as the kiss grew more passionate. Battling for territory in his brother's mouth, he explored and staked his claim on every inch of the lucious lips and inviting mouth before him.
Kyle's mouth slid away from his, bringing the cold chill of the night air to his lips as he felt a thin, wet trail trace its way along his jawline and up to his ear and engulf his earlobe. Shivers went down his spine, and he whimpered quietly when his brother lightly bit the soft, pliable skin. Kyle pulled away from his ear, and settled himself down, nestling his head in the crook of Derek's neck.
They sat there that way, just enjoying the warmth and company, until Derek felt Kyle beginning to nod off to sleep. Before his brother could be fully claimed by unconsciousness, he leaned in and placed a final kiss on the smiling lips beneath him, and that kiss said everything that neither of them would--or could--verbalize.
I'll miss you, it said. I'll see you soon, it said.
But most of all, as Kyle drifted to sleep curled up in the warmth of his big brother's arms, it said:
I love you. Comments and (constructive) criticism are like warm hug on a cold day! Always, always welcome.