[fic] Say It Ain't So [Y; Rose, Allison]
Fandom: Y: the Last Man, written by Brian K. Vaughan (He owns that crazy de-manned world.)
Notes: This was knocking around in my brain last night before I went to bed. I haven't seriously considered writing Y fanfic before and lord knows I don't speak Aussie English, so the voice may be all off. =( But the heart, it hurts. (And I'm in denial.) BKV, why you gotta mess with the OTPness?
SPOILERS for 49.
Say It Ain't So
With one hand she holds her lover’s pale hand, with the other, she strokes her lover’s dark hair and her cool forehead.
This is not happening, she thinks. This is all a bad dream.
355 didn’t shove a gun in her face while she knelt helplessly over Allison, staring down cold steel with Allison, Allison, Allison running through her mind like a prayer to some deaf God.
Allison did not collapse.
Allison is not bleeding.
Allison is not-not-
Somewhere behind her one good eye, or maybe lurking behind the dimness of her lost one, there are tears, waiting. But her cheeks are dry.
So this can’t be happening.
*
She’s still beautiful and Rose wants to resent her for it. She lies still and pale-she was always pale, a little exotic, with her almond eyes and her dark hair, but so easy to read and understand with her bluff exterior and harsh words, an ice queen ripe for her melting touch-but she’s still beautiful, so vulnerable without her glasses, and Rose wants so badly, so badly, not to love her.
It’s weeks too late for that.
“I fucking love you,” she whispers harshly and her voice doesn’t break but a great pain swells up within her where her heart should be, only she gave it away to this woman and so it shouldn’t hurt this much.
“I love you,” she whispers and it’s a plea saying “Come back.”
Please, don’t let this be happening.
*
It’s not fair, Rose thinks. She got better and some bitch ran her through with a sword, so Allison should get better because this, whatever this is, can’t be that bad, it can’t be.
In one delirious moment this makes perfect sense.
*
She keeps thinking about how Allison slipped through her arms, how she was warm but there was something so obviously wrong (oh my God, she’s bleeding), and how puzzledconfusedscaredscaredscared she felt.
She couldn’t catch her. For some reason, this is all that’s clear to Rose.
It terrifies her.
*
Her eyes flutter open and Rose catches her breath. She blinks and looks around blearily and then she sees her and she smiles faintly.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey,” Rose says, gripping her hand and bringing it to her cheek. Allison’s eyes gaze deeply into her own and a surge of hope fills Rose. She’s going to tell her that it isn’t as bad as it looks. She’s going to tease her for being all worked up over nothing.
She’s going to make it all better.
She’s going to make it all go away.
“I’m sorry,” Allison says. And her eyes are so sad.
Then the world blurs and it takes her a moment to realize that there are tears in her eye and her body has begun to tremble and oh, God, those choked noises are coming from her. And Allison touches her cheek and pulls her close.
And her eyes are so sad.
This is really happening.
Notes: This was knocking around in my brain last night before I went to bed. I haven't seriously considered writing Y fanfic before and lord knows I don't speak Aussie English, so the voice may be all off. =( But the heart, it hurts. (And I'm in denial.) BKV, why you gotta mess with the OTPness?
SPOILERS for 49.
Say It Ain't So
With one hand she holds her lover’s pale hand, with the other, she strokes her lover’s dark hair and her cool forehead.
This is not happening, she thinks. This is all a bad dream.
355 didn’t shove a gun in her face while she knelt helplessly over Allison, staring down cold steel with Allison, Allison, Allison running through her mind like a prayer to some deaf God.
Allison did not collapse.
Allison is not bleeding.
Allison is not-not-
Somewhere behind her one good eye, or maybe lurking behind the dimness of her lost one, there are tears, waiting. But her cheeks are dry.
So this can’t be happening.
*
She’s still beautiful and Rose wants to resent her for it. She lies still and pale-she was always pale, a little exotic, with her almond eyes and her dark hair, but so easy to read and understand with her bluff exterior and harsh words, an ice queen ripe for her melting touch-but she’s still beautiful, so vulnerable without her glasses, and Rose wants so badly, so badly, not to love her.
It’s weeks too late for that.
“I fucking love you,” she whispers harshly and her voice doesn’t break but a great pain swells up within her where her heart should be, only she gave it away to this woman and so it shouldn’t hurt this much.
“I love you,” she whispers and it’s a plea saying “Come back.”
Please, don’t let this be happening.
*
It’s not fair, Rose thinks. She got better and some bitch ran her through with a sword, so Allison should get better because this, whatever this is, can’t be that bad, it can’t be.
In one delirious moment this makes perfect sense.
*
She keeps thinking about how Allison slipped through her arms, how she was warm but there was something so obviously wrong (oh my God, she’s bleeding), and how puzzledconfusedscaredscaredscared she felt.
She couldn’t catch her. For some reason, this is all that’s clear to Rose.
It terrifies her.
*
Her eyes flutter open and Rose catches her breath. She blinks and looks around blearily and then she sees her and she smiles faintly.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey,” Rose says, gripping her hand and bringing it to her cheek. Allison’s eyes gaze deeply into her own and a surge of hope fills Rose. She’s going to tell her that it isn’t as bad as it looks. She’s going to tease her for being all worked up over nothing.
She’s going to make it all better.
She’s going to make it all go away.
“I’m sorry,” Allison says. And her eyes are so sad.
Then the world blurs and it takes her a moment to realize that there are tears in her eye and her body has begun to tremble and oh, God, those choked noises are coming from her. And Allison touches her cheek and pulls her close.
And her eyes are so sad.
This is really happening.