Fic title: Minutes
Author: Lena
Background: Part 1 of a trilogy. Jake and Peyton's feelings before he comes back
Rated: R
Dedicated to: Sam and Mara for the inspiration. All the J/P lovers in the world
Disclaimer: I don't own OTH, Bryan's scruff nor anything related. sighs I don't own the amazing song "Minutos" by Ricardo Arjona either, but I do love it.
Author's note: This fic is full of angst. It's hard to write this while knowing that he came back and that they hugged (yeay!). But I needed to set the pace before "Come Undone", to give my own version of why he decided to come back. And this is the only thing that came to my mind. I hope you all like it.
All comments are
El reloj de pared
Anunciando las 6:23
El pasado con sed
Y el presente es un atleta sin pies
Y ya son las 6:43
Y el cadáver del minuto que paso
Me dice que así se vive aquí te guste o no
Y la nostalgia pone casa en mi cabeza
Y dan las 6 con 50
The clock on the wall
Announcing 6.23
The past is thirsty
And the present is a feetless athlete
And it's 6.43 already
And the corpse of the minute that passed by
Tells me that this is how you live here whether you like it or not
And the nostalgia makes home in my head
And it's 6.50
Jake sighed deeply as he got out of bed on that grey day. Every day was grey and it has been like that for the past months. Ever since he'd gotten in Savannah, nothing had color anymore. All shades of grey.
He went to the cradle and caressed the hair of his little girl, the only joy he had these days, and sighed deeply.
Jenny's eyes looked at him, portraying the same sadness he had in his…
"I know, baby" he said kissing his daughter's head "I miss her too."
He logged into his computer and saw his inbox. All her emails, all her words, all the silent pleas he could read between the lines. But he was hopeless… there was no hope.
He could not come back, he was scared and frightened.
And by now, he knew that certainly she'd lost hope in him too… his silent was the weapon he knew was hurting her each day. But there was nothing he could do for her now. As there was nothing he could do for him.
--
The dark that goes deeper in the night the moment before the sunrise awakes was the shelter where Peyton unleashed her lost dreams.
Quien te dijo que yo
Era el sueño que soñaste una vez
Quien dijo que tu
voltearias mi futuro al revés
Who told you that I
Was the dream you once dreamed
Who told that you
Would turn my future upside down
Dreams that she once had and that were crashed by the harsh reality. Dreams that tried to remain in her illusions of a better future someday, of a word that would bring light into her dark days, into her soul that everyday was turning more a more into a grey and cold place, like a cave made of a stone that was wasted and engraved in loneliness.
But those dreams had crashed too against the silent that condemned her to a world where nothing made sense anymore. To a hopeless despair, to a soul torn into a million pieces, to loneliness.
Y ya son las 7:16
Y el cadáver del minuto que paso
Me dice tu estrategia te arruino
No queda más que ir aprendiendo a vivir solo
Si te quedan agallas
And it's 7.16 already
And the corpse of the minute that passed by
Tell me that your strategy ruined you
There's nothing left that learn to live alone
If you have guts left
But she had no guts left. No will to try to live, to fight the temptations that would lead her to self destruction. Not without him.
As she left the spot where she'd been contemplating the dark night, her mind was haunted by the memories of happier times that were no longer there. But that remained in her walls, as a silent punishment for crimes she could not even figure out.
La casa no es otra cosa
Que un cementerio de historias
Enterradas en fosas
Que algunos llaman memoria
The house is nothing else
But a cemetery of stories
Buried in graves
That some call memories
And the memories of him were haunting her more and more these days. By the minute.
---
Another day had passed by and the loneliness was cutting her deeper and deeper. Every single small thing was accumulating within her, making the minutes longer and more hurtful every day. With every lack of messages, her heart broke a little more. And the pain grew more and more, making her cry tears that were drying her soul of joy and happiness.
Minutos
Como sal en la herida
Se me pasa la vida
Gastando el reloj
Minutes
Like salt in the wound
Life passes me by
Wasting the clock
Minutos
Son la morgue del tiempo
Cadáveres de momentos
Que no vuelven jamás
No hay reloj que de vuelta hacia atrás
Minutes
They are the morgue of time
Corpses of moments
That would never come back
There's no clock that turns backwards
The long days that seemed to never end and only fade into this constant routine. Words, gestures, classes, life was done by inertia because his heart was dry. He did not want to feel anymore, because all there was left was the pain of wasting time away from her. Away from being able to caress that mass of curls he loved so much, away from that smile that could light an entire room. Away from the sound of her tender voice.
Como duele gastar
El instante en el que tu ya no estas
Como cuesta luchar
Con las cosas que no vuelven más
How it hurts to spend
The moment when you're no longer here
How it costs to fight
With the things that won't come back
He laid in bed one more time, his mind traveling to her, his body aching for the lack of her nearness. The minutes making tic tac inside his head as one by one were dying, and his hopes were dying a little more with each one passing by. He closed his eyes trying to bring back that one small, ephemeral kiss. That brief moment when her lips touched his and he was alive again…
But it was only a memory, and the lack of the real thing ached in his soul like nothing ever did before.
Ya son las 9:23
Y el cadáver del minuto que paso
Se burla de mis ganas de besar
La foto que dejaste puesta en el bureau
Mi soledad es tu venganza
And it's 9.23 already
And the corpse of the minute that passed by
It's making fun of my desire to kiss
The picture you left on the desk
My loneliness is your revenge
She lied in bed, staring at the wall where his drawing was, remembering that one kiss. The one moment where she felt complete, at ease, safe. And how everything was taken away from her.
She sank her face into her pillow, crying the lonely tears that she cried each night. The burden of her life without him hurting her, the memories of happier times no longer able to ease the pain. Not anymore.
El ministerio del tiempo
Puso sede en mi almohada
Ahí te encuentro a momentos
Aunque no sirve de nada
The ministry of time
It's stationed in my pillow
There I found you from time to time
Although it's worthless
His memory was no longer able to save her. And she was doomed. Forever. There was no coming back.
Minutos que se burlan de mí
Minutos como furia del mar
Minutos pasajeros de un tren que no va a ningún lugar
Minutos como lluvia de sal
Minutos como fuego en la piel
Minutos forasteros que vienen y se van sin decir
Minutos que me duelen sin ti
Minutos que no pagan pensión
Minutos que al morir formarán el batallón del ayer
Minutos que se roban la luz
Minutos que me oxidan la fe
Minutos inquilinos del tiempo mientras puedan durar
Minutos que disfrutan morir
Minutos que no tienen lugar
Minutos que se estrellan en mi son Kamikazes de Dios.
Minutes that make fun of me
Minutes like the rage of the sea
Minutes like passengers of a train with destination nowhere
Minutes like rain of salt
Minutes like fire on the skin
Minutes like strangers that come and go without saying a word
Minutes that hurt without you
Minutes that don't pay alimony
Minutes that when die would form yesterday's battalion
Minutes that steal the light
Minutes that rust my faith
Minutes tenants of time as long as they can last
Minutes that enjoy dying
Minutes that have no place
Minutes that crash in me they're God's Kamikazes
One last silent plea woke him up. One last memory had haunted him in his dreams. And the fear that this one had brought paralyzed Jake for a second until his soul was able to see what his eyes had denied him before. This fear would upbeat any other he might have felt….
Because now, he could sense it. Louder than anything else, louder than any rational reasoning, was this one intuition set in him: she was in danger.
He needed to come back. He needed her.