Post by Jenny on Nov 28, 2007 4:17:05 GMT
TITLE: Even in Death
RATING: PG-13 for some language
STARRING: Isaac & Molly Mendez, mentions of Elle.
SUMMARY: The last talk between Molly & her father before she jumped 20 years into the past.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own Isaac Mendez though I could claim partial ownership of Molly.
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He watched her bounce around the pool table with glee. Unlike him, she was able to lavish in the few moments of happiness that came to her...a wide smile plastered against freckles and sparkling blue eyes.
“That’s the third time in an hour I’ve kicked your ass, Richie...get a new hobby,” she giggled.
“You cheat, I swear you do!” Richie, the defeated one sulked.
“You’re just mad you got your nads handed to you by a GIRL.”
“Molly...” he called out, and her head turned quickly, her dark hair slapping at her cheek.
“I hope you’re getting grounded!” Richie called out to her with a smug look on his face.
“You wish, crybaby. I’m legal now. Grounding doesn’t apply,” Molly muttered before walking over. He placed an arm around her shoulder, removed the pool stick from her hand and guided her down the hall.
“I figured it was time we had a talk.”
“Talk? Daddy, you gave me ‘the’ talk. Though your modified ‘don’t ever touch a man ever’ version is pretty limiting.”
“Molly, I know you’re going to do it...even after I told you that you shouldn’t.”
“Touch a man? Well, Dad...my options are pretty lim-“
“-No. Go back in time. I see that look in your eye every time I scold you, explain the cause and effect...you’re going to do it regardless of what I say...so I just have to embrace it. Someday soon, I will die.”
“Do you have to do the cryptic death prediction thing?” She noticed his sorrowful expression and her heart sank. “You’re serious.”
She stopped walking and tucked a wayward strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “You...want me to go?”
“I don’t. I just know you will do it no matter how much I protest, especially when I die.”
“Don’t say when.”
“There is no ‘if’ here, Moll.”
“Dad, sometimes there has to be an if.”
“I painted you long before you were born. I painted your mother. I painted so many things and all of them have come true in some way, shape or form. I’ve drawn my death so many times it’s lost the edge...yet this time, there’s finality to it.”
“And I bet Mom would slap you for saying this.”
“She would.”
They continued walking in silence, Molly tucking her hands into her jeans.
“She had the best laugh.”
Molly turned to look at him.
“You laugh just like her. Your face just...glows and your whole body shakes.”
“Dad...”
“When she cried, she looked so vulnerable, broken. I knew she was going to die. I painted it. I painted it four times. Four different angles. I tried to paint something else but it was all the same...and there you were, cradled to her chest. You weren’t crying. You were at peace with the reality of it all...exactly as you were when the paintings came true. I fought to get you back. I fought to see you again, hold you again. I buried your mother and lost you in a span of hours. The sanity I had left dissipated. I was driven on the faint glimmer of hope that you were alright.”
She could sense his pain. He didn’t even have to speak again, she could feel his words, his agony.
“I never told her enough what she meant to me, how she redefined me, how she taught me more about myself and who I truly wanted to be.”
“You defined yourself Dad,” Molly corrected.
“You deserved to know her,” he continued. Molly sighed.
“You deserved to grow old with her,” Molly sniffled, looking away so he wouldn’t see her crying.
“Quit smoking. Find a guy you know I would have liked. Don’t kiss on the first date, because I doubt any guy will be good enough to kiss you so quickly. Never forget your mother, you were everything to her...”
“Dad, stop it.”
She twisted the watch on her wrist and looked to the floor. Her mother’s watch. It stopped ticking so long ago she had forgotten when exactly it died, but it had been stuck on 8:16 since that day. She found solace in it. 8:16 was the time she was born.
“It was her idea to name you Molly. She whispered it to me when she was in labor. She knew she wasn’t going to make it to see your first sunrise. You were named after a girl who I looked after like a daughter...”
“Molly Walker,” Molly stated. Isaac nodded.
“Molly would have laughed, applauded, danced around and made fun of me if she saw all this. Saw Elle and I have a kid...see my kid grow up, become a woman and use her powers for good...most of the time. Your mother...she’d be so proud of you. She’d never stop talking about you, I’d guarantee it.”
“Dad, you’re freaking me out.”
“She’s buried next to her sister, in Texas. I want to be buried with her. We can finally be together with no one to hold us back.”
“Dad, stop it,” Molly cried.
“I wish you could have had real Christmases, brothers and sisters, a pony...”
“Dad! SHUT UP,” Molly growled, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.
Isaac Mendez grabbed his daughter and pulled her into his chest. “I can’t stop this.”
“I can!” Molly yelled.
“You will try, but no matter what you do...I’ll still die someday, Molly. What you do in the past, changes everything. Maybe you won’t even be born. At least I’ll die with memories of my daughter, my pride and joy...the last piece of the woman I loved.”
“Love Dad, you love her. Just because she isn’t here doesn’t mean you have to stop loving her.”
He took a deep breath, taking in the soft coconut scent of her hair. He pulled away from the embrace, fishing in his pocket and pulling out a white, folded piece of paper.
Molly opened it and looked at it curiously. It was a sketch, a sketch of her, in her mother’s arms while her father kissed the side of her mother’s head. The paper had been wadded up, torn, tattered...yet she couldn’t stop staring at it.
“I sketched that on a plane the day you were conceived, shoved it in my pocket and nearly forgot about it. Now, I don’t go anywhere without it.”
She tried to give it back to him, but he refused.
“Its yours now,” he nodded.
She folded it and shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans.
“Isaac,” a voice called from the end of the hall.
“Hm?”
“Issue up top, Monica needs reinforcements.”
“I’m going...” Molly said, starting down the hall. She felt a hand on her shoulder and stopped.
“You stay, I’ll go.”
“You’re just a painter, Dad.”
“Correction. I’m a painter and a father,” he touched her cheek and then patted it.
“Goodbye,” He nodded to her.
“Bye, Dad.”
Isaac Mendez was killed twenty-two minutes later. In his death he whispered Go find the answers you need, and tell your mother I love her, and I will always. I love you both...even in death.
RATING: PG-13 for some language
STARRING: Isaac & Molly Mendez, mentions of Elle.
SUMMARY: The last talk between Molly & her father before she jumped 20 years into the past.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own Isaac Mendez though I could claim partial ownership of Molly.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He watched her bounce around the pool table with glee. Unlike him, she was able to lavish in the few moments of happiness that came to her...a wide smile plastered against freckles and sparkling blue eyes.
“That’s the third time in an hour I’ve kicked your ass, Richie...get a new hobby,” she giggled.
“You cheat, I swear you do!” Richie, the defeated one sulked.
“You’re just mad you got your nads handed to you by a GIRL.”
“Molly...” he called out, and her head turned quickly, her dark hair slapping at her cheek.
“I hope you’re getting grounded!” Richie called out to her with a smug look on his face.
“You wish, crybaby. I’m legal now. Grounding doesn’t apply,” Molly muttered before walking over. He placed an arm around her shoulder, removed the pool stick from her hand and guided her down the hall.
“I figured it was time we had a talk.”
“Talk? Daddy, you gave me ‘the’ talk. Though your modified ‘don’t ever touch a man ever’ version is pretty limiting.”
“Molly, I know you’re going to do it...even after I told you that you shouldn’t.”
“Touch a man? Well, Dad...my options are pretty lim-“
“-No. Go back in time. I see that look in your eye every time I scold you, explain the cause and effect...you’re going to do it regardless of what I say...so I just have to embrace it. Someday soon, I will die.”
“Do you have to do the cryptic death prediction thing?” She noticed his sorrowful expression and her heart sank. “You’re serious.”
She stopped walking and tucked a wayward strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “You...want me to go?”
“I don’t. I just know you will do it no matter how much I protest, especially when I die.”
“Don’t say when.”
“There is no ‘if’ here, Moll.”
“Dad, sometimes there has to be an if.”
“I painted you long before you were born. I painted your mother. I painted so many things and all of them have come true in some way, shape or form. I’ve drawn my death so many times it’s lost the edge...yet this time, there’s finality to it.”
“And I bet Mom would slap you for saying this.”
“She would.”
They continued walking in silence, Molly tucking her hands into her jeans.
“She had the best laugh.”
Molly turned to look at him.
“You laugh just like her. Your face just...glows and your whole body shakes.”
“Dad...”
“When she cried, she looked so vulnerable, broken. I knew she was going to die. I painted it. I painted it four times. Four different angles. I tried to paint something else but it was all the same...and there you were, cradled to her chest. You weren’t crying. You were at peace with the reality of it all...exactly as you were when the paintings came true. I fought to get you back. I fought to see you again, hold you again. I buried your mother and lost you in a span of hours. The sanity I had left dissipated. I was driven on the faint glimmer of hope that you were alright.”
She could sense his pain. He didn’t even have to speak again, she could feel his words, his agony.
“I never told her enough what she meant to me, how she redefined me, how she taught me more about myself and who I truly wanted to be.”
“You defined yourself Dad,” Molly corrected.
“You deserved to know her,” he continued. Molly sighed.
“You deserved to grow old with her,” Molly sniffled, looking away so he wouldn’t see her crying.
“Quit smoking. Find a guy you know I would have liked. Don’t kiss on the first date, because I doubt any guy will be good enough to kiss you so quickly. Never forget your mother, you were everything to her...”
“Dad, stop it.”
She twisted the watch on her wrist and looked to the floor. Her mother’s watch. It stopped ticking so long ago she had forgotten when exactly it died, but it had been stuck on 8:16 since that day. She found solace in it. 8:16 was the time she was born.
“It was her idea to name you Molly. She whispered it to me when she was in labor. She knew she wasn’t going to make it to see your first sunrise. You were named after a girl who I looked after like a daughter...”
“Molly Walker,” Molly stated. Isaac nodded.
“Molly would have laughed, applauded, danced around and made fun of me if she saw all this. Saw Elle and I have a kid...see my kid grow up, become a woman and use her powers for good...most of the time. Your mother...she’d be so proud of you. She’d never stop talking about you, I’d guarantee it.”
“Dad, you’re freaking me out.”
“She’s buried next to her sister, in Texas. I want to be buried with her. We can finally be together with no one to hold us back.”
“Dad, stop it,” Molly cried.
“I wish you could have had real Christmases, brothers and sisters, a pony...”
“Dad! SHUT UP,” Molly growled, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.
Isaac Mendez grabbed his daughter and pulled her into his chest. “I can’t stop this.”
“I can!” Molly yelled.
“You will try, but no matter what you do...I’ll still die someday, Molly. What you do in the past, changes everything. Maybe you won’t even be born. At least I’ll die with memories of my daughter, my pride and joy...the last piece of the woman I loved.”
“Love Dad, you love her. Just because she isn’t here doesn’t mean you have to stop loving her.”
He took a deep breath, taking in the soft coconut scent of her hair. He pulled away from the embrace, fishing in his pocket and pulling out a white, folded piece of paper.
Molly opened it and looked at it curiously. It was a sketch, a sketch of her, in her mother’s arms while her father kissed the side of her mother’s head. The paper had been wadded up, torn, tattered...yet she couldn’t stop staring at it.
“I sketched that on a plane the day you were conceived, shoved it in my pocket and nearly forgot about it. Now, I don’t go anywhere without it.”
She tried to give it back to him, but he refused.
“Its yours now,” he nodded.
She folded it and shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans.
“Isaac,” a voice called from the end of the hall.
“Hm?”
“Issue up top, Monica needs reinforcements.”
“I’m going...” Molly said, starting down the hall. She felt a hand on her shoulder and stopped.
“You stay, I’ll go.”
“You’re just a painter, Dad.”
“Correction. I’m a painter and a father,” he touched her cheek and then patted it.
“Goodbye,” He nodded to her.
“Bye, Dad.”
Isaac Mendez was killed twenty-two minutes later. In his death he whispered Go find the answers you need, and tell your mother I love her, and I will always. I love you both...even in death.
I love that Isaac really did care deeply for Elle but he just didn't say it enough, and I love all the things he said about her from her laugh to the vulnerability, how she wouldn't stop talking. Aw, Iselle!
