Post by Candice Wilmer on Nov 24, 2007 13:43:11 GMT
Title: Letting Go
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 1x20 Five Years Gone, plus casting spoiler for season two. Also, spoilers up to Part 5 of the Year of Hell RPG
Pairing: Isaac/Elle
Genre: Angst, Introspection, Romance
Warnings: If you don't play or watch the RPG this will make NO sense.
Summary: Sometimes letting go is harder than holding on.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Boo.
AN: Right, so nothing in this RPG is a mushy as this...but I really wanted to see a scenario like this play out. I'm skeptical about my Elle-driving ability, but there you go. In essence, this is what should happen--but never will, due to the nature of the RPG. There simply isn't time for it in the pace of the RPG.
There are so many things he wanted from life. Throughout all his years, his desires of evolved and changed as he gained and lost and learned. Some things he wanted, he achieved. Some things he reached for were eternally out of reach. Sometimes he found out what he wanted could never be. Most of the time, when he finally touched what he wanted, he found out it wasn't so wonderful after all.
He had learned much over the years. If there was one thing he had succeeded in doing throughout his years, it had been learning. He always learned, his goals always changed, his bitterness and cynicism always grew. But he never changed. Not truly.
He'd like to think that he never allowed himself to change, that he simply held himself back out of self loathing, a self-inflicted penance for all he had done. He knew the truth. Change was beyond something like him. He had always been one thing, and he would always be that. No matter how much he might deny himself, and try to be what everyone else could be, try to save the world and camouflage himself as one of them, he would always be one of the ones that destroyed it. When push came to brutal, undeniable shove, he was the one who would buckle and run, and leave the rest to be devoured.
He was a despicable thing, that deserved nothing more than what he had. He deserved so much less. He never deserved her. She had never been his intention. How had things turned around so horrendously? What twisted fate had warped the world with such cruel designs as to entangle someone like her?
He would save her while he could. If she stayed much longer, he would only drag her down into oblivion, and not let go until she was a broken shadow of her past vibrancy. He was far too selfish a creature to be allowed the temptation of someone like her. He knew what happened to soft, kind, breakable souls like her. In the dark, you could still see the blood of the ones before her, running down his hands and staining forever everything that it touched.
He wished he could tell her just how much it meant for her to live as she wanted. For her to be free and safe with her family, far from his reach, and all the things that followed him. That he followed like a starving dog, begging for an opportunity to end the swath of destruction his existence substantiated.
She deserved to know what he had done, what he had caused. She should know that the carnage she lived in was due only to his own cowardice, to his parasitic presence. She would run away of her own accord, to her own life. She would leave without looking back, and one day, she could have what he could not. She could be happy.
Wary blue eyes reflected the blueish green light of the corridor, as he approached the slim blonde form standing a short distance away. Her expression was much akin to a cornered rabbit, but she made no move to retreat. Indeed, she seemed frozen almost mid-step, warring emotions dancing across her smooth face.
The words he so desired raced out of reach, as he slowed to a stop a few feet away from her. Her mouth opened to form words, but aborted the action midway through, and she watched him with an almost helpless expression. He wasn't sure how long passed before she finally spoke.
"Don't you have something to do?"
He never truly did anything. He ordered other people to their deaths, and let other people sacrifice their lives for his own sake. He was never the one that made the sacrifices.
"Elle..."
"Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it."
"I'm not."
Her expression clouded into something unreadable. He had never truly known her, after all. Why would he know her expressions? Why should he? Her intricacies were for someone else to learn.
"I need to go." He voice was quiet, and her words quick, as she turned to move down the path.
For an indeterminable moment, maybe two, he knew he should let her go. Knew that letting her walk away and not look back would lead her down the path to happiness--and forgetting him completely. It was nice, knowing something. Knowing you were doing the right thing for once.
He never could last long doing the right thing. It all came down to his parasitic nature once again. He hadn't even realized he'd grabbed her arm until he was holding her tightly to him, breathing in the hint of bleach he had already memorized.
"You promised not to leave."
Her small frame was tensed against his, slim hands resting against his chest, as if she were gathering the strength to shove him away, or perhaps fry him.
"You can't do this..." Her voice was higher than usual, muffled, choked full of emotions he didn't understand.
"I can't promise you a tomorrow that may never come." He couldn't be expected to let her go twice. He wouldn't.
"You see the future."
"Everything changes."
"That's not an excuse!"
He sighed. "I won't promise you something I'm not going to keep."
"Then stop avoiding it and just say it!" She snapped, apparently obtaining whatever determination was required to finally shove him away. Fury, tears, and pain jumbled together to form a brilliant sheen in her eyes. "Just...just tell me you're done, and stop making me believe..." She shook her head, and bit her lip. She was visibly trembling, fighting down the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I'm not interested in an act. I can manage this just fine on my own if you'd just..."
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence, or speech, or whatever she was going to say. He'd pulled her close again, hands on both arms, pinning her rigidly against him, and muffled her words with his mouth. One of his hands drifted to hold her chin up, as her unyielding lips gradually softened, and her wet cheeks dampened his.
He'd never given her a proper kiss, out of some form of respect for her missing tongue. As her lips finally parted, he was reminded what a tragedy it had been for such a well-trained thing to have been ripped in half.
She barely pulled away far enough to breathe, eyes shining with something that seemed a blend of confusion and hope.
"I can't let you go." He said softly, shaking his head.
"Then don't."
He rested his forehead against hers, linking his arms around her waist, and he was certain they stood like that for hours, not saying a word. But this was a time ship, hovering outside of time (So Jack had said), so it could have been five minutes or five seconds.
"What do you see?"
Everything. Words that could not be unsaid. Tears that could not be unshed. A life void of meaning yet rich in pointless moments and brilliant smiles, and little life lessons. A failed Santa Claus attempt, and a crooked birthday cake. He saw a prom night, and broken hearts, and over the top receptions and a torn wedding dress. He saw lonely graves and a child with blue eyes and dark hair.
"You."
She rested her head on his chest. "Don't leave me."
He pressed his face into her hair, and breathed in the lingering smell of bleach, closing his eyes to force himself into that moment, just he and she alone in an alien corridor, impossibly far away from anything else. As if nothing else in the world mattered any more than this and now.
"Never."
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 1x20 Five Years Gone, plus casting spoiler for season two. Also, spoilers up to Part 5 of the Year of Hell RPG
Pairing: Isaac/Elle
Genre: Angst, Introspection, Romance
Warnings: If you don't play or watch the RPG this will make NO sense.
Summary: Sometimes letting go is harder than holding on.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Boo.
AN: Right, so nothing in this RPG is a mushy as this...but I really wanted to see a scenario like this play out. I'm skeptical about my Elle-driving ability, but there you go. In essence, this is what should happen--but never will, due to the nature of the RPG. There simply isn't time for it in the pace of the RPG.
----
Letting Go
Letting Go
There are so many things he wanted from life. Throughout all his years, his desires of evolved and changed as he gained and lost and learned. Some things he wanted, he achieved. Some things he reached for were eternally out of reach. Sometimes he found out what he wanted could never be. Most of the time, when he finally touched what he wanted, he found out it wasn't so wonderful after all.
He had learned much over the years. If there was one thing he had succeeded in doing throughout his years, it had been learning. He always learned, his goals always changed, his bitterness and cynicism always grew. But he never changed. Not truly.
He'd like to think that he never allowed himself to change, that he simply held himself back out of self loathing, a self-inflicted penance for all he had done. He knew the truth. Change was beyond something like him. He had always been one thing, and he would always be that. No matter how much he might deny himself, and try to be what everyone else could be, try to save the world and camouflage himself as one of them, he would always be one of the ones that destroyed it. When push came to brutal, undeniable shove, he was the one who would buckle and run, and leave the rest to be devoured.
He was a despicable thing, that deserved nothing more than what he had. He deserved so much less. He never deserved her. She had never been his intention. How had things turned around so horrendously? What twisted fate had warped the world with such cruel designs as to entangle someone like her?
He would save her while he could. If she stayed much longer, he would only drag her down into oblivion, and not let go until she was a broken shadow of her past vibrancy. He was far too selfish a creature to be allowed the temptation of someone like her. He knew what happened to soft, kind, breakable souls like her. In the dark, you could still see the blood of the ones before her, running down his hands and staining forever everything that it touched.
He wished he could tell her just how much it meant for her to live as she wanted. For her to be free and safe with her family, far from his reach, and all the things that followed him. That he followed like a starving dog, begging for an opportunity to end the swath of destruction his existence substantiated.
She deserved to know what he had done, what he had caused. She should know that the carnage she lived in was due only to his own cowardice, to his parasitic presence. She would run away of her own accord, to her own life. She would leave without looking back, and one day, she could have what he could not. She could be happy.
Wary blue eyes reflected the blueish green light of the corridor, as he approached the slim blonde form standing a short distance away. Her expression was much akin to a cornered rabbit, but she made no move to retreat. Indeed, she seemed frozen almost mid-step, warring emotions dancing across her smooth face.
The words he so desired raced out of reach, as he slowed to a stop a few feet away from her. Her mouth opened to form words, but aborted the action midway through, and she watched him with an almost helpless expression. He wasn't sure how long passed before she finally spoke.
"Don't you have something to do?"
He never truly did anything. He ordered other people to their deaths, and let other people sacrifice their lives for his own sake. He was never the one that made the sacrifices.
"Elle..."
"Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it."
"I'm not."
Her expression clouded into something unreadable. He had never truly known her, after all. Why would he know her expressions? Why should he? Her intricacies were for someone else to learn.
"I need to go." He voice was quiet, and her words quick, as she turned to move down the path.
For an indeterminable moment, maybe two, he knew he should let her go. Knew that letting her walk away and not look back would lead her down the path to happiness--and forgetting him completely. It was nice, knowing something. Knowing you were doing the right thing for once.
He never could last long doing the right thing. It all came down to his parasitic nature once again. He hadn't even realized he'd grabbed her arm until he was holding her tightly to him, breathing in the hint of bleach he had already memorized.
"You promised not to leave."
Her small frame was tensed against his, slim hands resting against his chest, as if she were gathering the strength to shove him away, or perhaps fry him.
"You can't do this..." Her voice was higher than usual, muffled, choked full of emotions he didn't understand.
"I can't promise you a tomorrow that may never come." He couldn't be expected to let her go twice. He wouldn't.
"You see the future."
"Everything changes."
"That's not an excuse!"
He sighed. "I won't promise you something I'm not going to keep."
"Then stop avoiding it and just say it!" She snapped, apparently obtaining whatever determination was required to finally shove him away. Fury, tears, and pain jumbled together to form a brilliant sheen in her eyes. "Just...just tell me you're done, and stop making me believe..." She shook her head, and bit her lip. She was visibly trembling, fighting down the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I'm not interested in an act. I can manage this just fine on my own if you'd just..."
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence, or speech, or whatever she was going to say. He'd pulled her close again, hands on both arms, pinning her rigidly against him, and muffled her words with his mouth. One of his hands drifted to hold her chin up, as her unyielding lips gradually softened, and her wet cheeks dampened his.
He'd never given her a proper kiss, out of some form of respect for her missing tongue. As her lips finally parted, he was reminded what a tragedy it had been for such a well-trained thing to have been ripped in half.
She barely pulled away far enough to breathe, eyes shining with something that seemed a blend of confusion and hope.
"I can't let you go." He said softly, shaking his head.
"Then don't."
He rested his forehead against hers, linking his arms around her waist, and he was certain they stood like that for hours, not saying a word. But this was a time ship, hovering outside of time (So Jack had said), so it could have been five minutes or five seconds.
"What do you see?"
Everything. Words that could not be unsaid. Tears that could not be unshed. A life void of meaning yet rich in pointless moments and brilliant smiles, and little life lessons. A failed Santa Claus attempt, and a crooked birthday cake. He saw a prom night, and broken hearts, and over the top receptions and a torn wedding dress. He saw lonely graves and a child with blue eyes and dark hair.
"You."
She rested her head on his chest. "Don't leave me."
He pressed his face into her hair, and breathed in the lingering smell of bleach, closing his eyes to force himself into that moment, just he and she alone in an alien corridor, impossibly far away from anything else. As if nothing else in the world mattered any more than this and now.
"Never."
