My Darling by the Sea
"But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee"
~~Edgar Allan Poe
If ever there were a bed of every emotion ever felt by man, of every feeling and threat to human kind, it would be in the heart of Claire Matthews-the heart of a serial killer's wife. How many swipes of the whip can one take across her eyes until they fill in the watery depths with her cries? And they float Joey away on a raft, while he holds the souvenir from his father's first kill. Darling little Claire curls into a fetal position, like being stabbed in the gut, while she sleeps on Joey's bed-the bed of every tragedy known to man.
"You don't have to stay here, you know. We could take you somewhere else," Ryan said, giving the only support he understood.
Her body curled even tighter at his voice, gripping Joey's teddybear to her face. "Where?" she whispered.
"Goodnight, Claire."
"Stay," she half asked, half pleaded, knowing that she was asking for more than comfort from a friend. And he could see it. Even with half of her face shaded by her hair, he could see the popping veins in her eyes, and his palms shook at the same cadence as connection served as a subconscious reminder of their yearning for safety. Most ask for love or wealth, but not Ms. Matthews. No, she craved nothing more than safety...and him.
"I can't," he sighed.
"Please?"
He spotted a small chair in the corner of the room, and he hoped that this would be enough. "I'll sit here. Get some sleep, Claire. You need it."
To be honest, even before Claire was almost murdered by Jordie, his dreams were compromised by images of Claire with her blue eyes turning red with pools of her life spilling out of her. It's odd how her death reminded him of a birth-the blue and reds like a newborn baby. In a way, Claire was being reborn. This was a new chapter in her life...a new chapter decided by Joe.
She watched him, yearning for the safety to join her so she could stop quivering for just a moment. Even while Joe was in jail, the eight years without Ryan left her unsettled. She was beginning to grow anxious, anticipating his warmth smashed to her tired body. Would he sit there all night instead of resting next to her?
"You know, Ryan, Joe's winning," she whispered, forcing him to find her eyes in the darkness.
"No he's not. Don't say that," he argued and walked towards her bedside, softly cupping her hand with both of his, causing the quivering to stop.
"But he has, Ryan. Don't you hear it? Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump! Poe thrived on forcing people into the madness he creates. I'm Joe's very own tragic tail," she sobbed.
"Claire..."
"No. Don't say anything. I...I missed you Ryan. Just...give me this one moment."
He paused, but when her eyes filled with a different kind of liquid, with the salty drops of pain, he dropped his jacket to the floor and leaned to kiss the top of her forehead. As he caressed the side of her cheek, and she softly closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, he new she needed him. He lifted the blankets to climb into the small, cramped bed.
They stayed together with him holding her head as she cried. It was rare to see the brave professor, Ms. Matthews, in a complete state of defeat. Ryan was accustomed to it. And he realized, to his torture, that he was partly at fault.
She rolled over to face him, then, and there faces were separated by only a few particles in the air.
"Sometimes I wonder why I loved him. Why he picked me. Now he wants to kill me. And no matter how much I try...no matter how many books I read or scientific bullshit I study...I can't understand it. "
"He's not sane, Claire," Ryan sighed, still avoiding her touch.
"Are you?" she asked.
"How could I be," he chuckled.
As soon as Claire had begun to unclench, a loud honk of a car horn interrupted her peace.
"Jesus!" she sighed, tossing her head into the crook of his shoulder. "Can you cover my ears too?"
"You need your senses," Ryan said, "They're kinda important."
"Not right now, though," Claire whispered, "Now you need to treat me like you used to. I need you to take me away from here."
"I told you we can take you somewhere else..."
"No, Ryan. Not physically."
He understood the first time she said it. He told himself that he was doing Claire a favor by staying away, and the FBI wouldn't be fond of their relationship. His main fear was only that he would do her more harm than good. He left her...with nothing but a tragic story.
"Remember going to your sister's restaurant. I didn't think I would ever be happy again after...everything. But we laughed and cared, and dare I say, loved?" She whispered, interlacing her thing fingers with his.
"Give it time, Claire."
"Or quoth the raven...Nevermore."
Authors Note:
Thanks for reading! This is the first of what I hope are many of my Following fanfics. I'm slightly obsessed with this show. Let me know what you think. Review, message, or whatever you want. I might make this longer, but who knows. I don't have much time for writing fanfics, but I'm willing to sacrifice a little time.
Disclaimer: I own none of this.