I thought I'd try something new. Instead of writing an entire, continuous story, I'm going to write individual little oneshots designed to give insight into the "everyday" moments of Neal and Peter's lives. I'll be using quotes as prompts – I have a bunch already, so hopefully updates will be frequent! :)
If you have a specific quote in mind that you'd like me to write about, just let me know.
Disclaimer: Title for fic is from Robert Frost's quote: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."
This first chapter is a response to my other WC story, Breaking Trust. You might be able to follow along without having read it, though.
Enjoy! (And review!)
"Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside – remembering all the times you've felt that way." - Charles Bukowski
The first thing Neal does in the morning is take a shower. It's a quick shower, in and out, since he still can't stand the feel of the water on his skin, but he needs to rinse off the cold sweat that he woke up in again.
It was the same nightmare as the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that – Keller, standing over him, grinning manically, knife in hand – and then suddenly he's at the bottom of a lake, and somehow he can breathe, but he can't move because Keller is holding him down – and then he's watching Keller ignite the fuse and the flames from Kate's plane mushroom into the air –
And then he wakes up in a cold sweat, and takes a shower.
The doctor said he had to wear the arm sling for two weeks, but Neal took it off after the third day. He's careful not to press too hard on the stitches when he uses the towel to dry his shoulder. He catches sight of the lines of stitches encircling his wrists and falters – sits on the closed toilet seat, blinks hard.
Sometimes when he closes his eyes he can see the red light from the camera, watching, waiting.
Sometimes his wrists ache, and he takes an aspirin, and traces the stitches with his fingers.
He looks at his reflection in the steamy mirror, his eyes catching on the slowly-healing scar on his cheek even though he tries to avoid it. It looks raw after his shower, but it will fade.
He puts a towel on, opens the door, and nearly collides with June. She barely manages to avoid spilling the two mugs of coffee she's carrying. She apologizes, smiling. He laughs. She could see his scars if she looked, all of them, standing out against the white skin of his chest, but she doesn't notice, or pretends not to. He dresses, and joins her on the veranda for coffee.
They talk, and Neal's wrists don't start aching, his shoulder doesn't start pulling.
It's a beautiful day out, sun shining, just like the past two days, but today Neal doesn't pack an umbrella when he leaves.
Next chapter will be more upbeat, I swear. Reviews are always appreciated :)
