"Did you ever...hell, I dunno..."
Sep. 14th, 2007 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladynorbertTITLE: When You're Gone
FANDOM: Brutality (RPG)
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Chris Tyler, Sarah Masterson
RATING: PG
GENRE:Pure Crap General? Angst? It's sort of a little of everything.
WORDS: 2,283
NOTES: This has been rattling around in my brain for a while now, but I was trying to ignore it because I have other things to write. Then today I saw that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clez (who owns Chris and also Cole Stanton, who is mentioned) had a bad day, and the muses pointed sharp objects at me and made me do it. Title and summary are from *cringe* Avril Lavigne's song "I Miss You." No, I don't know what they fought about -- I couldn't come up with anything. It was harder than trying to find a reason for me to fight with Kevin. The line "Love is many things, none of them logical" is shamelessly stolen from The Princess Bride.
SUMMARY: When you walk away, I count the steps that you take.
She never liked it when they fought.
Perhaps it was partly because it was so rare. In all the years of their partnership-turned-friendship-turned-whatever, Sarah Masterson could count on the fingers of one hand the number of actual fights she'd had with Chris Tyler. Oh, they squabbled, more playful than anything. And since they had been turned into werewolves, they'd grown excessively fond of sparring with each other. In some ways it was a little pointless -- they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses better than anyone -- but it was fun, and reasonably productive.
To actually fight, however...
Part of the reason it was so unusual was because for them to fight, they would have to strenuously disagree about something, and that in itself was a rarity. As a general rule, the only disagreements they tended to have was over the quality of men Sarah dated (never high enough in the male's opinion) or how much sleep Chris really needed (he never got enough for the female's satisfaction).
But here they were. They'd actually had a fight.
Sarah felt alien inside her own skin, like she'd suddenly turned into someone she didn't know. She would never in a hundred years have been able to explain to anyone why she felt like she did, if only because she couldn't think of a living soul who would stand a chance of really understanding the nature of her relationship to Chris. Hell, she didn't understand it half the time herself. It defied a proper name; it had even when they were human, but since their turning it was harder to define than ever. It was full of emotions that, by themselves, had names and descriptions; devotion was in there, and trust, and loyalty, and other words that made them sound more like dogs than people. But there were other things too, less easily explained, things that could potentially cause trouble for them on the force if the full reality of them ever became public knowledge. Sarah adored Chris, really adored him. It was partly hero worship (how many times had he saved her life?) and partly just how they were with each other. Oh, he adored her right back, not that he ever said it in so many words, but love is many things, none of them logical.
They were kind of special, Cole said. This they knew even without the lycanthropy. But in all seriousness, they were a sort of werewolf that was really unusual, so much so that they were the only ones of their kind he'd ever known -- and he was the oldest wolf in the pack, to Sarah's knowledge. It wasn't so atypical for two people (or even more) to be attacked at the same time. But for them both have survived the attack, to have been turned together by the same "sires" in the same moment and to have still lived to see the sun rise the next day, that made them different. They were a pack within a pack; regardless of how they ever became attached to any other wolves they met, it was well nigh impossible for anyone to supplant them in their affections for each other.
Sarah, humorously, didn't mind this. Really, she thought, it wasn't much different from when they were humans; they were just more of the same. The intimacy level had risen -- not physically, that was hard to picture, but on the deeper emotional levels. They were so attuned to one another that they almost thought with one mind, and bled with one heart.
But it hadn't stopped this fight.
What the hell had they been fighting about, anyway? She wasn't exactly sure. It was like things were fine one minute and exploding the next. And suddenly she'd been watching him stalk out of the room, and all the fight in her had died. A whimpering in her mind told her that her wolf felt the same way. The wolf was angry with her human counterpart for fighting in the first place. If they were a little pack unto themselves, then Chris was the Alpha male, and she was not supposed to fight with her Alpha.
Never mind the fact that you can't have simply one Alpha in a pack, even a pack of two, and that she as Alpha female was technically on the same level with him. His equal, his partner, his parallel.
His mate?
There was a notion to stop her in her tracks if ever there was one. She brushed it aside after a moment, irritably, and resumed pacing. And yet it would be hard to deny the general accuracy of the term. For all intents and purposes, she supposed she was exactly that. Mate. "Lifetime companion," if you will.
Lifetime was now stretching so far out in front of her that it was virtually endless. Immortality was reality. And the idea of facing it without him created such a well of terror in her that she almost howled in panic. She stumbled out of the room, letting her nose lead her.
He was, perhaps predictably, in the training room, venting his feelings with pistols and targets. She knew he could smell her, but he was paying no attention to her. She'd wait until he stopped, which eventually he did. He glared at her, his eyes still sharply hazel-golden instead of their usual tranquil green.
She lowered her head, a submissive gesture that had less to do with Sarah and more to do with the wolf. Sarah herself was more present in the militaristic stance, and the folded arms. "I don't even know why we were fighting," she said. "But I'm sorry." She sighed, raising her head slightly. "Did you ever...hell, I dunno...it's like, I can't stand to see you walk away. Not if you're mad."
Honestly, she didn't like to watch him walk away, period. But now was not the time for that much honesty.
"Like I said, I don't know why we fought or why we're angry. But I don't like it. I need...I need us to..." Words were not coming out right. "I think...I just need us." She dared a glance and saw, with relief, that some of the anger had faded from his eyes. She lowered her gaze again, now mumbling, but knowing his lupine hearing would catch the words. "I love you more than anything. I probably shouldn't but I do. So I don't like it when we fight."
How long she stood like that, Sarah didn't know. But it couldn't have been very long before her face was resting against a cotton shirt, her posture relaxed for the first time in hours, her nose full of the only truly soothing smell on earth.
FANDOM: Brutality (RPG)
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Chris Tyler, Sarah Masterson
RATING: PG
GENRE:
WORDS: 2,283
NOTES: This has been rattling around in my brain for a while now, but I was trying to ignore it because I have other things to write. Then today I saw that
clez (who owns Chris and also Cole Stanton, who is mentioned) had a bad day, and the muses pointed sharp objects at me and made me do it. Title and summary are from *cringe* Avril Lavigne's song "I Miss You." No, I don't know what they fought about -- I couldn't come up with anything. It was harder than trying to find a reason for me to fight with Kevin. The line "Love is many things, none of them logical" is shamelessly stolen from The Princess Bride.SUMMARY: When you walk away, I count the steps that you take.
She never liked it when they fought.
Perhaps it was partly because it was so rare. In all the years of their partnership-turned-friendship-turned-whatever, Sarah Masterson could count on the fingers of one hand the number of actual fights she'd had with Chris Tyler. Oh, they squabbled, more playful than anything. And since they had been turned into werewolves, they'd grown excessively fond of sparring with each other. In some ways it was a little pointless -- they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses better than anyone -- but it was fun, and reasonably productive.
To actually fight, however...
Part of the reason it was so unusual was because for them to fight, they would have to strenuously disagree about something, and that in itself was a rarity. As a general rule, the only disagreements they tended to have was over the quality of men Sarah dated (never high enough in the male's opinion) or how much sleep Chris really needed (he never got enough for the female's satisfaction).
But here they were. They'd actually had a fight.
Sarah felt alien inside her own skin, like she'd suddenly turned into someone she didn't know. She would never in a hundred years have been able to explain to anyone why she felt like she did, if only because she couldn't think of a living soul who would stand a chance of really understanding the nature of her relationship to Chris. Hell, she didn't understand it half the time herself. It defied a proper name; it had even when they were human, but since their turning it was harder to define than ever. It was full of emotions that, by themselves, had names and descriptions; devotion was in there, and trust, and loyalty, and other words that made them sound more like dogs than people. But there were other things too, less easily explained, things that could potentially cause trouble for them on the force if the full reality of them ever became public knowledge. Sarah adored Chris, really adored him. It was partly hero worship (how many times had he saved her life?) and partly just how they were with each other. Oh, he adored her right back, not that he ever said it in so many words, but love is many things, none of them logical.
They were kind of special, Cole said. This they knew even without the lycanthropy. But in all seriousness, they were a sort of werewolf that was really unusual, so much so that they were the only ones of their kind he'd ever known -- and he was the oldest wolf in the pack, to Sarah's knowledge. It wasn't so atypical for two people (or even more) to be attacked at the same time. But for them both have survived the attack, to have been turned together by the same "sires" in the same moment and to have still lived to see the sun rise the next day, that made them different. They were a pack within a pack; regardless of how they ever became attached to any other wolves they met, it was well nigh impossible for anyone to supplant them in their affections for each other.
Sarah, humorously, didn't mind this. Really, she thought, it wasn't much different from when they were humans; they were just more of the same. The intimacy level had risen -- not physically, that was hard to picture, but on the deeper emotional levels. They were so attuned to one another that they almost thought with one mind, and bled with one heart.
But it hadn't stopped this fight.
What the hell had they been fighting about, anyway? She wasn't exactly sure. It was like things were fine one minute and exploding the next. And suddenly she'd been watching him stalk out of the room, and all the fight in her had died. A whimpering in her mind told her that her wolf felt the same way. The wolf was angry with her human counterpart for fighting in the first place. If they were a little pack unto themselves, then Chris was the Alpha male, and she was not supposed to fight with her Alpha.
Never mind the fact that you can't have simply one Alpha in a pack, even a pack of two, and that she as Alpha female was technically on the same level with him. His equal, his partner, his parallel.
His mate?
There was a notion to stop her in her tracks if ever there was one. She brushed it aside after a moment, irritably, and resumed pacing. And yet it would be hard to deny the general accuracy of the term. For all intents and purposes, she supposed she was exactly that. Mate. "Lifetime companion," if you will.
Lifetime was now stretching so far out in front of her that it was virtually endless. Immortality was reality. And the idea of facing it without him created such a well of terror in her that she almost howled in panic. She stumbled out of the room, letting her nose lead her.
He was, perhaps predictably, in the training room, venting his feelings with pistols and targets. She knew he could smell her, but he was paying no attention to her. She'd wait until he stopped, which eventually he did. He glared at her, his eyes still sharply hazel-golden instead of their usual tranquil green.
She lowered her head, a submissive gesture that had less to do with Sarah and more to do with the wolf. Sarah herself was more present in the militaristic stance, and the folded arms. "I don't even know why we were fighting," she said. "But I'm sorry." She sighed, raising her head slightly. "Did you ever...hell, I dunno...it's like, I can't stand to see you walk away. Not if you're mad."
Honestly, she didn't like to watch him walk away, period. But now was not the time for that much honesty.
"Like I said, I don't know why we fought or why we're angry. But I don't like it. I need...I need us to..." Words were not coming out right. "I think...I just need us." She dared a glance and saw, with relief, that some of the anger had faded from his eyes. She lowered her gaze again, now mumbling, but knowing his lupine hearing would catch the words. "I love you more than anything. I probably shouldn't but I do. So I don't like it when we fight."
How long she stood like that, Sarah didn't know. But it couldn't have been very long before her face was resting against a cotton shirt, her posture relaxed for the first time in hours, her nose full of the only truly soothing smell on earth.
