Lady Norbert (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladynorbert) wrote2006-01-01 08:55 pm
ladynorbert) wrote2006-01-01 08:55 pm
Entry tags:
ficlet request #2
Title: All Souls Pass
Characters: Carl Kolchak and Amber Campbell
RPG: Sin City
Quote/Word to use: Grief.
Genre: Drama/Romance, rated PG
Summary: Slightly AU. Two lost souls found each other. But what will happen when the person who brought them together is taken away?
Notes: Fulfilling a request by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
valerious013. The Sin City RPG has nothing to do with the movie of the same name, and is owned and run by nightslash. Carl Kolchak is the main character from the now-defunct ABC series Night Stalker, which is now the property of the Sci-Fi Channel. Amber Campbell and Father Mark Sands are my own original characters.
Amber Campbell lounged on the sofa in her boyfriend's L.A. apartment, flipping through a magazine. She'd gotten off early at the diner where she waitressed, and so had come here. Carl had given her the key to the apartment not too long ago; she liked to come over before he got home from working at the Beacon, to surprise him. Sometimes she had dinner waiting -- he loved her cooking.
She smiled lazily, thinking over their first meeting. Quite literally, Carl Kolchak had been part of just about her entire life as far as she could remember it. A strange, and forever unexplained, incident had left her with no memory and a pair of peculiar burn scars on her arms. She had been found and brought to the sanctuary of the massive Cathedral, where the kindly priest, Father Sands, had taken her in and helped her as best he could. The best thing he had done for her, as far as Amber was concerned, was to send her to the crime-obsessed newspaper reporter with the sultry eyes and disarming smile. Carl had exhausted his every possible lead to find out who she was, where she belonged, what her life had been before that fateful night had wiped her mind.
He had been unable to gain everything she wanted. But he found her name, and the place where she lived, and what she did. She had been studying for a master's degree in marine biology, something she'd since had to abandon; there wasn't much point in going to classes when you couldn't even remember your teachers' names. She had a tiny kitchenette apartment off-campus, no family to speak of, and few friends. It was hardly an exceptional life, but it was hers, and it was because of the priest and the reporter that she was able to go back to it at all.
Then she'd gotten the job, and Carl had found out where she worked. So he would make it a point to stop by for coffee when he knew she would be there -- not every day, but frequently. Just checking in, he said, making sure she was all right (and leaving exorbitantly generous tips). A few times, when the weather was bad, he had come by in time to drive her home. Then came the night when he stopped by her place on his way home from work with a bag of Chinese food, and the question of whether she maybe possibly theoretically in a thousand years might be interested in going out with him sometime.
Considering that one of her earliest thoughts about the man was Something that good-looking has to be either married or gay, it wasn't a difficult choice.
It had been a slightly rocky road since then; Carl's job had a tendency to swallow him up for hours, sometimes even days. But the more she was with him, the more Amber wanted to be with him. She, in a nutshell, adored him, and would put up with almost anything. Father Sands chuckled every time she saw him, and told him thank you just one more time for introducing them. "I'm looking forward," the priest said more than once, "to presiding over your wedding."
Amber was looking forward to it also, though she wasn't about to bring up the subject. After all, Carl had been married once already, and it had ended tragically. She would not push him to do it again; she knew what fear he harbored.
She heard the key in the lock, and sat up, a little surprised. "Hey, sweet," she greeted him as he entered. "I wasn't expecting you for another -- what's wrong?" The look on his face sent a chill to her heart, and she jumped up and moved to his side. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Hon...it's Father Sands."
"Wh-what?"
Carl sighed. "I saw the ambulance at the Cathedral when I passed, so I stopped to make sure he was all right. He...he had a heart attack this morning. A very bad one. I went along to the hospital, but..." The pain in his eyes told her what his voice could not.
"He's...he's gone?" She stared at him, shocked. He nodded. "But he wasn't very old..."
"Fifty-nine, and overworked. You know what kind of hours he kept."
She did know that; until Carl had learned who she was and where she lived, she had resided in a small cloister inside the Cathedral itself, and had become familiar with just how hard the priest had worked to minister to the human souls caught in the "supernatural cesspool" that was Los Angeles. The most intense grief she had felt in the months since her memory loss now filled Amber so completely, she thought she might burst. "What do we do without him?" she whispered, her arms circling Carl's waist.
"What he would have wanted us to do," he replied in a soft, slightly choked voice, as he held her close.
"And that is?"
He rubbed his chin on the top of her red head as he said, simply, "Live."
Characters: Carl Kolchak and Amber Campbell
RPG: Sin City
Quote/Word to use: Grief.
Genre: Drama/Romance, rated PG
Summary: Slightly AU. Two lost souls found each other. But what will happen when the person who brought them together is taken away?
Notes: Fulfilling a request by
valerious013. The Sin City RPG has nothing to do with the movie of the same name, and is owned and run by nightslash. Carl Kolchak is the main character from the now-defunct ABC series Night Stalker, which is now the property of the Sci-Fi Channel. Amber Campbell and Father Mark Sands are my own original characters.Amber Campbell lounged on the sofa in her boyfriend's L.A. apartment, flipping through a magazine. She'd gotten off early at the diner where she waitressed, and so had come here. Carl had given her the key to the apartment not too long ago; she liked to come over before he got home from working at the Beacon, to surprise him. Sometimes she had dinner waiting -- he loved her cooking.
She smiled lazily, thinking over their first meeting. Quite literally, Carl Kolchak had been part of just about her entire life as far as she could remember it. A strange, and forever unexplained, incident had left her with no memory and a pair of peculiar burn scars on her arms. She had been found and brought to the sanctuary of the massive Cathedral, where the kindly priest, Father Sands, had taken her in and helped her as best he could. The best thing he had done for her, as far as Amber was concerned, was to send her to the crime-obsessed newspaper reporter with the sultry eyes and disarming smile. Carl had exhausted his every possible lead to find out who she was, where she belonged, what her life had been before that fateful night had wiped her mind.
He had been unable to gain everything she wanted. But he found her name, and the place where she lived, and what she did. She had been studying for a master's degree in marine biology, something she'd since had to abandon; there wasn't much point in going to classes when you couldn't even remember your teachers' names. She had a tiny kitchenette apartment off-campus, no family to speak of, and few friends. It was hardly an exceptional life, but it was hers, and it was because of the priest and the reporter that she was able to go back to it at all.
Then she'd gotten the job, and Carl had found out where she worked. So he would make it a point to stop by for coffee when he knew she would be there -- not every day, but frequently. Just checking in, he said, making sure she was all right (and leaving exorbitantly generous tips). A few times, when the weather was bad, he had come by in time to drive her home. Then came the night when he stopped by her place on his way home from work with a bag of Chinese food, and the question of whether she maybe possibly theoretically in a thousand years might be interested in going out with him sometime.
Considering that one of her earliest thoughts about the man was Something that good-looking has to be either married or gay, it wasn't a difficult choice.
It had been a slightly rocky road since then; Carl's job had a tendency to swallow him up for hours, sometimes even days. But the more she was with him, the more Amber wanted to be with him. She, in a nutshell, adored him, and would put up with almost anything. Father Sands chuckled every time she saw him, and told him thank you just one more time for introducing them. "I'm looking forward," the priest said more than once, "to presiding over your wedding."
Amber was looking forward to it also, though she wasn't about to bring up the subject. After all, Carl had been married once already, and it had ended tragically. She would not push him to do it again; she knew what fear he harbored.
She heard the key in the lock, and sat up, a little surprised. "Hey, sweet," she greeted him as he entered. "I wasn't expecting you for another -- what's wrong?" The look on his face sent a chill to her heart, and she jumped up and moved to his side. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Hon...it's Father Sands."
"Wh-what?"
Carl sighed. "I saw the ambulance at the Cathedral when I passed, so I stopped to make sure he was all right. He...he had a heart attack this morning. A very bad one. I went along to the hospital, but..." The pain in his eyes told her what his voice could not.
"He's...he's gone?" She stared at him, shocked. He nodded. "But he wasn't very old..."
"Fifty-nine, and overworked. You know what kind of hours he kept."
She did know that; until Carl had learned who she was and where she lived, she had resided in a small cloister inside the Cathedral itself, and had become familiar with just how hard the priest had worked to minister to the human souls caught in the "supernatural cesspool" that was Los Angeles. The most intense grief she had felt in the months since her memory loss now filled Amber so completely, she thought she might burst. "What do we do without him?" she whispered, her arms circling Carl's waist.
"What he would have wanted us to do," he replied in a soft, slightly choked voice, as he held her close.
"And that is?"
He rubbed his chin on the top of her red head as he said, simply, "Live."