Drabbles, 13+, mijmeraar
Sep. 3rd, 2006 08:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mijmeraar.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mash_slashTitle: Better Late.
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Prompt: Ends.
Word Count: 267
Rating: 13+
He stands, wavers and struggles to stay upright; his gaze is fixed on the house before him, on the unknowns inside. He tries to will himself forward but fails; head too busy fighting with no, no, no.
He walks the block once, twice, and three times. He tries to smile cordially at a woman on the corner, who watches him move back and forth, back and forth, stuck inbetween, on yes and no. She just startles, probably worried that he might pull out a gun on her. He had meant to get rid of the moustache long ago, but that was cutting himself off from before, from then, from once upon a time.
When he knocks, or raps, or puts brisk knuckles to the door, he folds the other hand under an arm, fending off an attack of the heart, of parts too weak to do battle. There are familiar clomping steps and not so familiar clicks and rattles of door locks [are they safe here? No, just safer here] and there he is, to end it all.
“BJ? … Beej!”
He’s caught up in hands and arms and everything, no time for sorry or where have you been, no time for BJ to talk it out. He wants to say, it’s over Hawk; he wants to say, she left me Hawk; he wants to say I’m here. For good. For you. He needs to say, I love you, always, until the end, but he just hugs back, just holds on, because he knows at last, at long, long last, that this isn’t the end at all.
Title: And your heart beats true.
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Prompt: Heart.
Word Count: 235
Rating: 13+
Hawkeye can tell you what he knows about your heart. Atriums and valves, arteries and veins, ventricles and cavities. He can tell you what and how and why; chatter about disease and illness and cure. He can give you a stern word on diet and stress, chastise you for smoking tobacco or wonder on your family’s history. He can tell you that heart disease is the leading factor in all deaths [because no one talks about war] and then he can keep you up to date on medical breakthroughs - plastic valves, defibrillation, open heart surgery – just to put your mind at ease.
Hawkeye can’t tell you why your heart breaks. He can’t tell you why we give it away, why we put it in the hands of others; to have, to hold, to protect. He can’t tell you why it pines and aches and cries; why it seems to stop sometimes or why it weakens when it’s alone. He doesn’t know [he doesn’t understand, he can’t understand] why some words make it fly [I love you, Hawk] and some words make it fall [it can’t be this way, Hawk] and he can’t explain that break, that shatter; why it will be put back together one day but not the same, never the same.
If your heart is ill, Hawkeye will do his best to fix it.
If it breaks, you’re on your own.
[Goodbye]
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Prompt: Ends.
Word Count: 267
Rating: 13+
He stands, wavers and struggles to stay upright; his gaze is fixed on the house before him, on the unknowns inside. He tries to will himself forward but fails; head too busy fighting with no, no, no.
He walks the block once, twice, and three times. He tries to smile cordially at a woman on the corner, who watches him move back and forth, back and forth, stuck inbetween, on yes and no. She just startles, probably worried that he might pull out a gun on her. He had meant to get rid of the moustache long ago, but that was cutting himself off from before, from then, from once upon a time.
When he knocks, or raps, or puts brisk knuckles to the door, he folds the other hand under an arm, fending off an attack of the heart, of parts too weak to do battle. There are familiar clomping steps and not so familiar clicks and rattles of door locks [are they safe here? No, just safer here] and there he is, to end it all.
“BJ? … Beej!”
He’s caught up in hands and arms and everything, no time for sorry or where have you been, no time for BJ to talk it out. He wants to say, it’s over Hawk; he wants to say, she left me Hawk; he wants to say I’m here. For good. For you. He needs to say, I love you, always, until the end, but he just hugs back, just holds on, because he knows at last, at long, long last, that this isn’t the end at all.
Title: And your heart beats true.
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Prompt: Heart.
Word Count: 235
Rating: 13+
Hawkeye can tell you what he knows about your heart. Atriums and valves, arteries and veins, ventricles and cavities. He can tell you what and how and why; chatter about disease and illness and cure. He can give you a stern word on diet and stress, chastise you for smoking tobacco or wonder on your family’s history. He can tell you that heart disease is the leading factor in all deaths [because no one talks about war] and then he can keep you up to date on medical breakthroughs - plastic valves, defibrillation, open heart surgery – just to put your mind at ease.
Hawkeye can’t tell you why your heart breaks. He can’t tell you why we give it away, why we put it in the hands of others; to have, to hold, to protect. He can’t tell you why it pines and aches and cries; why it seems to stop sometimes or why it weakens when it’s alone. He doesn’t know [he doesn’t understand, he can’t understand] why some words make it fly [I love you, Hawk] and some words make it fall [it can’t be this way, Hawk] and he can’t explain that break, that shatter; why it will be put back together one day but not the same, never the same.
If your heart is ill, Hawkeye will do his best to fix it.
If it breaks, you’re on your own.
[Goodbye]
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