WARNING LABEL: (for those who don't want to read my rambling and just want the story) G-rated M/M angsty monologue... with a few strong words, I guess.
Well it finally happened. My Muse returned full-force, and I went from struggling for over a week to make the slightest progress on one story to spilling out a whole piece this morning before lunch. Not only that, but I've got five or six more ideas floating around in my head... they kept coming up as I was writing this.
And now I'm trying to remember _why_ I wanted my Muse back
so much...
Anyway, this is a Song Challenge piece-- a disclaimer which
probably makes sense only to my fellow FKFIC-L people. I guess
people write around song lyrics in every fandom, but on the FK
lists it was easily the longest and most prolific standing "story challenge"
ever offered. I wrote four or five of them myself, and the serious ones
were much the same kind of angst-fest and emotional
dumping that this is. What can I say, at least I'm consistent.
For all I love the great slash that's been posted to these lists, I didn't
think I'd be writing any of it myself somehow. Guess it was inevitable,
though. WARNING: Basically M/M in theme, but no action, leaving it at
I guess a G (with a few strong words). It's a downer, the kind of stuff
that I usually don't read much of because I get too depressed. So, how
did I write it? I have a perverse Muse, what can I say? ;-)
No, really. I could write it because it's not finished... at least not
in my head. It's only the hurt part of the h/c, but there's comfort in
the future somewhere in my mind, so I'm o.k. (Goddess, I'm such a sap!
;-) I may even get around to writing it someday, you never know. Song
Challenges tend to do that to me.
O.K., you all know the drill-- I don't own them, they just started talking
in my head. No harm or trespass intended. If I could make money off this,
I'd be rich, but if you can actually find anything I possess worth suing
for, you're doing a lot better than I am.
Any errors are mine, my Muse denies all responsibility. Feel free to
laugh at my geography and travel plans... this is the best 45 mins on
the web could do for me.
Now, here we go... (is anyone still with me?)
*I couldn't believe it, when I heard the news today...*
A note. A note on my damn desk! I come back after another
pointless, fruitless chase after some lead that went nowhere and I find
this lying on my desk. "Const. Fraser called. No ride home
today," and the scribbled initials of the desk sergeant.
You know my first thought was to apologize? A sudden pang of
guilt that I'd missed lunch chasing down that damned snitch and
you were punishing me. It was gone in a second-- utterly
ridiculous. You would never be that petty. It could be any one of a number
of things-- off early, leaving late, running errands. Anything at all.
Besides, you would never realize how easy it would be to punish
me if you wanted to.
*I had to come and get it straight from you.*
So I called the Consulate. I don't know why. It was silly, I mean it's
not like you need looking after, like you have to check in with me when
you change plans. But I still call right up without a thought and with
a certain righteousness, as if you were AWOL or breaking curfew or something.
It's not like you owe me any explanations.
All right, I lied. I know exactly why I did it. But that doesn't
really matter now, does it?
*They said you were leaving, someone swept your heart away...*
Paulatuk? Where the hell is that, Benny? Somewhere back out in
the middle of your beloved ice and snow, huh? You've always
wanted to go home. You hide it under that professional courtesy, that
goddamned, stubborn Mountie stoicism. You've never said a single word,
but I can see it, you know. I can see the way you're always pining away
for the Frozen North. For a place where you fit in perfectly, where everything
around makes sense to you. Where no one teases you or stares or rolls
their eyes when you start tasting or smelling or
telling Inuit stories....
Dammit, Benny, don't you think I know that?
Linda, huh? I barely remember her, wouldn't remember her if you
hadn't spoken of her those few times. Leave it for you to be that understated
about a budding romance. I didn't even see it coming. Or did I just not
want to believe it could happen?
Linda. A little mouse hiding in her apartment from that twisted
sonofabitch landlord, hiding from the terrors of the big wild city too.
She didn't belong here either-- is that what drew you two
together? I can see how miles of empty snow would be a relief for her.
I bet she could live her whole life that way, miles of nothingness...
and you.
You know, Ovitz is a real gossip. The Dragon Lady should call
him on the carpet and chew his ass for that sometime.
*...And from the look upon your face I see it's true.*
"Ray!"
You know, for someone who hides their emotions away so
carefully from all the world, I can read you like a book. The
genuine surprise at seeing me at the door, turning almost instantly to
pleasure. That much, at least has changed. Your face is so open now anyone
could read it. But could anyone else see the pleasure at seeing me slip
right into the greater pleasure of the news you have to tell?
And would anyone else's heart tear itself apart at the sight?
*So tell me all about it, tell me 'bout the plans you're makin'*
It only takes a bare word or two and you're off and running,
bubbling over with news and plans-- a plane to Yellowknife,
another to Inuvik, then to Paulatuk... probably by dogsled or
something, I'm not even listening. For once I don't even feel any urge
to shut you up.
*Tell me one thing more before I go:*
It's probably the most horrible thing I've ever consciously done.
Shooting you on that train platform, at least that was an accident. A
split-second and the world fell apart before I even knew what was happening.
But this, this I'm doing to myself.
Or am I? I can't move. I don't think I can survive hearing how
happy you are, how perfect your life will be. Yet I can't leave. The
words pass over me like water, burning me with just their tone of pure
joy-- and yet I can't get enough. This is it, and I know it. Soon --
far, far too soon-- you will be gone and I won't be able to torture myself
like this. Ever again.
And I'm afraid it'll kill me.
*Tell me how am I supposed to live without you?*
Do you even realize how completely you've become a part of my
life? No, I bet you don't. You weren't here to see my life before, to
see how empty it was, how meaningless it all felt.
And I thought I was even more a part of your life. You said once I was
your best friend, and that was way back, long before the triumphs and
the losses, the pain and the death, and the near-death more times than
I can even count and the ridiculous leads that made no sense and
somehow panned out anyway.
Or was it only by default? Was I your best friend because you had no
one else? You do now. Was all the time we spent together some kind of
duty with you? Some kind of debt you felt you owed me for taking you
in when you first arrived? For trying to explain this bizarre new world
to you?
Oh no, God, please, Benny..... It was more than that.
It _has_ to have been.
*Now that I've been lovin' you so long*
Love is a monstrous thing, Benny. Look at what Victoria did with
yours. You of all people should know that, no?
I loved Irene, you know. I really did. If things had been
different.... But they weren't, were they? And there's nothing that can
change that. I loved Angie too, but not the way I should have. I loved
her like a friend-- I still do. But not like a lover, not
really. Par for the course with me, huh? I go and marry the one I should
have kept a friend and stay just friends with....
Oh damn, Benny.
*Too proud for cryin', didn't come here to break down,*
So you go on packing and talking. It's not like there's all that much
to take. But you, who can talk for hours on the minute properties of
mud, are talking on and on about your new love, your new life, and I
think maybe you'll never stop.
I'm deathly afraid you will.
Dief just lies there in the corner, head on his paws looking at me. He'll
go with you, of course, but I catch his eye and I can tell that he sees
what you don't. He won't interfere, he won't make a sound, but the sympathy
in his eyes is enough to break my heart all over again.
*It's just a dream of mine is comin' to an end.*
And you just go on, oblivious. Like you always did when some
gorgeous woman made a pass at you on sight. The few times you
realized, you got all flustered, uncomfortable. Long before I
realized what was happening, it gave me hope. Long before I could face
the reasons why, your complete lack of coherent response was like a reassurance,
a promise I wasn't going to lose you.
Then there was Victoria
*And how can I blame you, when I built my world around
That was when I faced it, you know. I had to. I sat there in the
hospital for hours, days, while you were dying. Dying by my hand.
I didn't know that kind of guilt and pain existed.
By the time they were sure you would make it, the guilt was so
familiar I could finally see through it. And what I saw should have scared
the hell out of me, should have sent me running for cover, burying my
emotions away where they would never see the light of day. But it didn't.
I don't know if it was because I was so strung out, so emotionally raw,
or if it was because somehow it was just so _right_.
I remember sitting there in the hall after they told me you were out
of danger. Ma and the girls were crying and hugging and praying and I
just sat there for an endless second. It was as if everything stood still
for a moment and I had all the time in the world. My first
thought was a prayer, a gratitude so heartfelt it didn't even have words.
Then I reached for words... and realized I didn't know what to say.
"Thank you, God, for saving... my friend"? It seemed so
inadequate. "My best friend"? Still it wasn't right. For that endless
second I sat there trying to find a word that was strong enough, that
would mean what I wanted to say. Had to say. Somehow I felt as if maybe
if I didn't do it right, wasn't sincere enough, honest enough in my gratitude,
you might be taken away again.
That did it, you know. That thought nearly doubled me over, as
numb as I thought I already was from the pain. "I love him, God." I just
broke down babbling in my head. "I love him more than anything on this
earth, please... I need him so bad." I thought my heart would break right
there.
I suppose it wasn't the brightest thing to do, huh? I realized that later,
much later. But if I wasn't struck down by lightening right there and
then, I guess I figured I was pretty much home free
afterwards.
*Now I don't want to know the price I'm gonna pay for dreamin'*
It was only after you woke up that I realized what I'd done to
myself.
There was no way I could face you with this. Hell I didn't even
know if you could ever forgive me enough to be friends again,
much less anything more. Could there be anything more? I didn't
even know what I wanted, I still don't.
All I know is what I knew then-- that ever losing you would
probably kill me.
*Even now it's more than I can bear.*
I waited too long, huh? We managed to put that whole nightmare
behind us and I was just gonna give us a little breathing room, a little
recovery time. Make sure that everything was all right
before....
Oh damn, I chickened out.
I didn't know what to say, I didn't know how to deal. I'm not sure if
I was more scared to think you might reject me or that you might
actually want me too. But we were back together and I saw you every day
and it was enough. Enough at least for the moment.
But the moment's gone.
*Now I don't want to know the price I'm gonna pay for dreamin'*
So what do I do now? Slap you on the back? Congratulate you?
Offer to be best man?
Oh God, I think I'd do it too... if only just to have the excuse to see
you one more time.
*Now that all of your dreams have come true.*
The look of happiness on your face as you talk takes my breath
away. Were you ever that happy here?
I guess I should take this as a sign that there never was a chance. Take
it as a gift from the heavens that I never tore up our friendship in
a vain attempt to make it something more. I mean, come on: a nice girl
just like you-- attractive, quiet, polite, a little shy-- who's happy
to go back to the middle of nowhere and adore you for the rest of her
life, a fairytale romance come true...
...Or me?
Dammit, God, the bolt of lightening would have been kinder.
*How am I supposed to live without you?
Dianne
"How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?"
by Dianne T. DeSha (a.k.a. "la Mercenaire")
Cat.Goddess@pobox.com
The hope that one day we'd be so much more than friends?*
And how am I supposed to carry on,
When all that I've been living for is gone?*
Dianne la Mercenaire... -*- <cat.goddess@pobox.com>
Vanity Web Page-- http://moonlight.dreamhost.com/lamerc/
"If we live through this, I think it'll be fun. If we don't live through
it, for once it'll be *your* fault." -- Chris