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tampered2006-12-27 10:47 pm
riteofmaldoran.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-12-27 10:47 pm
Log; Completed
When; Dec 27
Rating; PG-13 for angst
Characters; Vala![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riteofmaldoran, Jack thorsbuddy
Summary; Judgement.
Log;
Charliecharliecharlie... The words echoed throughout Jack's head, over and over, relentless. Turning to face the wall, he leaned against it, his forehead pressing aginst the cool surface, trying to cool down, to supress the memories floating to the top of his conciousness. Nononono...Not my fault. He pleaded silently with himself, trying to convince himself that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the accident from happening 13 years ago. Gone where the silent ones go. Jack shut his eyes tightly, trying to push the voice from his head, but nothing would help. He couldn't forget, not this time. Releasing a growl, Jack pushed away from the wall and brought up a fist. Driving the closed hand forward, it crashed into the blunt surface. The dry wall beneath the paint giving way to the force and anger behind the swing. Jack pulled his now bloody hand out of the hole and spun where he stood, now leaning back. Clenching his aching fist, he stared as the droplets of blood fell from his knuckles, darkening the carpet below as he wallowed in memories he didn't want to visit.
---
Vala never would have thought she would be comfortable doing something as menial as the dishes like a common housewife. But the past couple of days had been some of the best of her life. No curses, presents, Jack. And it had taken her long enough, too, to finally settle, sift through her emotions enough, categorize everything so she could finally look at the man and let what she was feeling come to the surface. She was fine with it now-- loving him and Daniel. Though she had a feeling half the reason was because Daniel wasn't here. It didn't matter though-- she loved Jack, and were Daniel here or not, nothing would change that.
She was humming, elbow-deep in sudsy water, when she felt something change. Her back stiffened, and not a second later she heard the unmistakable crunch of a wall being broken. She knew the sound all too well, after all. And there was only one other person-- Worry immediately funneled to her gut like a drink of ice water and she whirled.
"Jack?" She called, dropping dishes and cloth back into the sink with a clatter, water spraying as she lurched from the kitchen and ran for the hall.
---
Jack didn't look up when Vala came running down the hallway. He completely ignored her presence, not knowing she was there, too wrapped up in his emotions. He slid slowly to the floor, knees bent. His head fell forward into his uninjured hand, fingers gripping his military short hair tightly. His injured hand he left at his side, limp on the floor, staining the carpet more than just a few drops. His mouth moved, whispering soft words, your fault. Torturing himself with his thoughts, unable to fight the memories. They had been gone for close to ten years, always at the back of his head, but never in such sharp focus as they were now. The memory of his son, laying there, his grip on his father's hand slowly loosening, his father gripping even tighter to make up for it. His hand twitched in mirror with the images in his head.
--
When she turnedt he corner, she stopped cold at the sight she saw. Everything went numb, her ears rang, and for a moment she thought she may have forgot to breath. Never before had she seen a picture of such misery, such raw, unadultered emotional pain. And it made it twice the worse that it was Jack. Jarring into motion again, she went to his side and fell to her knees.
"Jack," His name was a whisper on her lips, fear constricting her chest, eyes darting from his grief-stricken face to the bloodied hand on the floor. Thoughtlessly, both of her own-- still dripping with dishwater-- lowered and curled around the injured limb, gentle as though she were handling a delicate bird.
--
He flinched, breath coming out in a shap his when Vala closed her own hands over his. He quickly withdrew his hand from hers, the dish soap hitting the wound causing a painful sting, bringing him out of his reverie. He shook his pained limb, as if that would rid him of the sharp stings. Swearing, he wiped the offended appendage with his shirt, smearing it with blood. Seeing the fabric soak up the liquid, turning the white into a startling red, he chocked off the remaining words as he flashed back to the image of his son, laying there in his father's room, blood everywhere. "Oh God..." The words almost forced out of the shocked man's throat. Tears made there way into his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
---
"Jack," She said his name again, and this time it came as a plea. She had never seen him like this-- never expected to see him like this. Vala didn't frighten easily, but he was terrifying her right now. "Jack, you're scaring me," Her voice shook, and she reached for him again. Her left hand curled into a loose fist, lingering near her chest, the other reaching out to touch his shoulder. She wasn't sure how to handle this, wasn't sure how he could react. Either he would accept her comfort, or he would lash out like a cornered animal, but either way-- she wouldn't be leaving his side.
---
He snapped his eyes shut at the onslaught of images. Blood, blood, so much blood. He shook, hands clenching, breath coming in heaves. He finally acknoledged the woman next to him, her hand on his shoulder making it's way through the red. Jack looked up at her, pain evident in every line of his face. He reached up and gripped her arm. "I can't- Oh God. They won't- The images won't stop." His voice cracked, broken sounding as he tried to get the words out. "I just- I can't forget anymore." His eyes closed against a second onslaught of tears. He wouldn't let himself cry, he couldn't. He lowered his head, resting it against the inside of her arm, trying to concentrate on the heat radiating from her body.
--
And with his words she suddenly understood. Not what the cause of his distress was, no, but she understood memories. And she understood this.
"Jack," She murmured his name, and despite his firm grip on her arm, she shifted, both hands carding into the quicksilver of his hair. Slender fingers curled at the base of his skull, thumbs beneath his ears. She kissed his forehead, then flexed her wrists, guiding his head up. "Look at me. Look me in the eye," She spoke softly, but her voice held firm command.
--
Jack resisted, not wanting to look at her. He didn’t want to have to tell her about what he did, what he caused. Your fault, all your fault. No matter what he did, he couldn't get the words and images out of his head. Gone, he wanted them gone.
His head moved with her hands, but he kept his eyes downcast, his breath now coming in short gasps. Jack flinched at the press of her lips, not knowing how she could touch him with such kindness and love.
---
"Jack," Her voice was a little louder, a little more firm, a furrow drawing between her brows. Her hands curled a little tighter into his hair, urging him with body language alone. She was serious now, frightened and worried and she wanted to help him. But she had to ground him first, and this was the only way she knew how. Or the only way she was willing to use with him.
---
The urging of her voice forced him to look up at her. He blinked several times before simply starring at her for a long moment. Raising his injured hand, he ran his fingers through her hair. He held a lock of the dark strands, stroking them ever so slightly. A sad smile graced his features, before he cleared his throat. "He would've- He would've liked you."
--
Her eyes softened, something like sadness gathering in the corners of her mouth. Her thumbs stroked along his jawline, soothing, holding his gaze until he spoke. Then curiousity flickered across her expression, but she didn't ask. Instead, she tilted her head forward, touched her forehead to his, hoping that the contact would keep him here and out of the past.
--
Eyelids fell shut as their foreheads touched. Jack didn't move, simply sat there, trying to get himself under control. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and into the v of his legs. His grip on her was tight and he rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, grounding himself in the here and now. "A parent should never have to bury their son." He spoke into her neck, voice cracking. "And it's all my fault."
--
One hand stayed at his jaw, but she released the other to curl around his shoulders, holding him protectively against her slender body. She turned her mouth against his temple, her eyes closing and crinkling at the edges with pain. Loss of family. She understood that. "How could it have been your fault?" She asked, hushed, unable to believe that a man as good as Jack could have ever done such a thing.
---
Jack's hand moved along her back, just feeling. He was silent for a long time, listening to her breath. In, out, in, out. "I left it-" No matter what he did, he could not stop his voice from breaking and cracking, the pain just too much. "I left it out. He found it, loaded. God- He was- He was only ten." This time Jack was unable to stop the tears from coming, and he started shaking once more with the need to stay silent.
---
She hushed him softly, a soft stutter of exhaled breath, both arms coming to wrap around his shoulders. She nuzzled her face against his hair, swaying minutely side to side. But what could she say to that? His son... She whispered his name, her voice gentle and broken. She knew what it was like-- although it had been her brother. And far more her own fault than an accident of a gun. But she didn't try to tell him it was a mistake-- it had been a fatal one. Vala understood guilt, and she knew that no matter what she said, this kind of pain couldn't be eased.
Rating; PG-13 for angst
Characters; Vala
riteofmaldoran, Jack thorsbuddySummary; Judgement.
Log;
Charliecharliecharlie... The words echoed throughout Jack's head, over and over, relentless. Turning to face the wall, he leaned against it, his forehead pressing aginst the cool surface, trying to cool down, to supress the memories floating to the top of his conciousness. Nononono...Not my fault. He pleaded silently with himself, trying to convince himself that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the accident from happening 13 years ago. Gone where the silent ones go. Jack shut his eyes tightly, trying to push the voice from his head, but nothing would help. He couldn't forget, not this time. Releasing a growl, Jack pushed away from the wall and brought up a fist. Driving the closed hand forward, it crashed into the blunt surface. The dry wall beneath the paint giving way to the force and anger behind the swing. Jack pulled his now bloody hand out of the hole and spun where he stood, now leaning back. Clenching his aching fist, he stared as the droplets of blood fell from his knuckles, darkening the carpet below as he wallowed in memories he didn't want to visit.
---
Vala never would have thought she would be comfortable doing something as menial as the dishes like a common housewife. But the past couple of days had been some of the best of her life. No curses, presents, Jack. And it had taken her long enough, too, to finally settle, sift through her emotions enough, categorize everything so she could finally look at the man and let what she was feeling come to the surface. She was fine with it now-- loving him and Daniel. Though she had a feeling half the reason was because Daniel wasn't here. It didn't matter though-- she loved Jack, and were Daniel here or not, nothing would change that.
She was humming, elbow-deep in sudsy water, when she felt something change. Her back stiffened, and not a second later she heard the unmistakable crunch of a wall being broken. She knew the sound all too well, after all. And there was only one other person-- Worry immediately funneled to her gut like a drink of ice water and she whirled.
"Jack?" She called, dropping dishes and cloth back into the sink with a clatter, water spraying as she lurched from the kitchen and ran for the hall.
---
Jack didn't look up when Vala came running down the hallway. He completely ignored her presence, not knowing she was there, too wrapped up in his emotions. He slid slowly to the floor, knees bent. His head fell forward into his uninjured hand, fingers gripping his military short hair tightly. His injured hand he left at his side, limp on the floor, staining the carpet more than just a few drops. His mouth moved, whispering soft words, your fault. Torturing himself with his thoughts, unable to fight the memories. They had been gone for close to ten years, always at the back of his head, but never in such sharp focus as they were now. The memory of his son, laying there, his grip on his father's hand slowly loosening, his father gripping even tighter to make up for it. His hand twitched in mirror with the images in his head.
--
When she turnedt he corner, she stopped cold at the sight she saw. Everything went numb, her ears rang, and for a moment she thought she may have forgot to breath. Never before had she seen a picture of such misery, such raw, unadultered emotional pain. And it made it twice the worse that it was Jack. Jarring into motion again, she went to his side and fell to her knees.
"Jack," His name was a whisper on her lips, fear constricting her chest, eyes darting from his grief-stricken face to the bloodied hand on the floor. Thoughtlessly, both of her own-- still dripping with dishwater-- lowered and curled around the injured limb, gentle as though she were handling a delicate bird.
--
He flinched, breath coming out in a shap his when Vala closed her own hands over his. He quickly withdrew his hand from hers, the dish soap hitting the wound causing a painful sting, bringing him out of his reverie. He shook his pained limb, as if that would rid him of the sharp stings. Swearing, he wiped the offended appendage with his shirt, smearing it with blood. Seeing the fabric soak up the liquid, turning the white into a startling red, he chocked off the remaining words as he flashed back to the image of his son, laying there in his father's room, blood everywhere. "Oh God..." The words almost forced out of the shocked man's throat. Tears made there way into his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
---
"Jack," She said his name again, and this time it came as a plea. She had never seen him like this-- never expected to see him like this. Vala didn't frighten easily, but he was terrifying her right now. "Jack, you're scaring me," Her voice shook, and she reached for him again. Her left hand curled into a loose fist, lingering near her chest, the other reaching out to touch his shoulder. She wasn't sure how to handle this, wasn't sure how he could react. Either he would accept her comfort, or he would lash out like a cornered animal, but either way-- she wouldn't be leaving his side.
---
He snapped his eyes shut at the onslaught of images. Blood, blood, so much blood. He shook, hands clenching, breath coming in heaves. He finally acknoledged the woman next to him, her hand on his shoulder making it's way through the red. Jack looked up at her, pain evident in every line of his face. He reached up and gripped her arm. "I can't- Oh God. They won't- The images won't stop." His voice cracked, broken sounding as he tried to get the words out. "I just- I can't forget anymore." His eyes closed against a second onslaught of tears. He wouldn't let himself cry, he couldn't. He lowered his head, resting it against the inside of her arm, trying to concentrate on the heat radiating from her body.
--
And with his words she suddenly understood. Not what the cause of his distress was, no, but she understood memories. And she understood this.
"Jack," She murmured his name, and despite his firm grip on her arm, she shifted, both hands carding into the quicksilver of his hair. Slender fingers curled at the base of his skull, thumbs beneath his ears. She kissed his forehead, then flexed her wrists, guiding his head up. "Look at me. Look me in the eye," She spoke softly, but her voice held firm command.
--
Jack resisted, not wanting to look at her. He didn’t want to have to tell her about what he did, what he caused. Your fault, all your fault. No matter what he did, he couldn't get the words and images out of his head. Gone, he wanted them gone.
His head moved with her hands, but he kept his eyes downcast, his breath now coming in short gasps. Jack flinched at the press of her lips, not knowing how she could touch him with such kindness and love.
---
"Jack," Her voice was a little louder, a little more firm, a furrow drawing between her brows. Her hands curled a little tighter into his hair, urging him with body language alone. She was serious now, frightened and worried and she wanted to help him. But she had to ground him first, and this was the only way she knew how. Or the only way she was willing to use with him.
---
The urging of her voice forced him to look up at her. He blinked several times before simply starring at her for a long moment. Raising his injured hand, he ran his fingers through her hair. He held a lock of the dark strands, stroking them ever so slightly. A sad smile graced his features, before he cleared his throat. "He would've- He would've liked you."
--
Her eyes softened, something like sadness gathering in the corners of her mouth. Her thumbs stroked along his jawline, soothing, holding his gaze until he spoke. Then curiousity flickered across her expression, but she didn't ask. Instead, she tilted her head forward, touched her forehead to his, hoping that the contact would keep him here and out of the past.
--
Eyelids fell shut as their foreheads touched. Jack didn't move, simply sat there, trying to get himself under control. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and into the v of his legs. His grip on her was tight and he rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, grounding himself in the here and now. "A parent should never have to bury their son." He spoke into her neck, voice cracking. "And it's all my fault."
--
One hand stayed at his jaw, but she released the other to curl around his shoulders, holding him protectively against her slender body. She turned her mouth against his temple, her eyes closing and crinkling at the edges with pain. Loss of family. She understood that. "How could it have been your fault?" She asked, hushed, unable to believe that a man as good as Jack could have ever done such a thing.
---
Jack's hand moved along her back, just feeling. He was silent for a long time, listening to her breath. In, out, in, out. "I left it-" No matter what he did, he could not stop his voice from breaking and cracking, the pain just too much. "I left it out. He found it, loaded. God- He was- He was only ten." This time Jack was unable to stop the tears from coming, and he started shaking once more with the need to stay silent.
---
She hushed him softly, a soft stutter of exhaled breath, both arms coming to wrap around his shoulders. She nuzzled her face against his hair, swaying minutely side to side. But what could she say to that? His son... She whispered his name, her voice gentle and broken. She knew what it was like-- although it had been her brother. And far more her own fault than an accident of a gun. But she didn't try to tell him it was a mistake-- it had been a fatal one. Vala understood guilt, and she knew that no matter what she said, this kind of pain couldn't be eased.