There's A Lot I Don't Know...
Disclaimer: nope I own nothing. zip zilch. I'm getting over that. I'm moving on with my life after the harsh let down and the failed negotiations. JJ still owns the bunch. And apparently he always will.
Rating: G
Summery: Syd POV on the living mother developments.
AN: Inspired by the song Save Me by the pierces. Which btw I don't own...
There's a lot you don't know/ There's a lot I can't tell/ Would you think I'm crazy?/ If you knew me that well./ Cause there's a lot you don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ Is it all in my head/ Or somehow is it true/ Was it something I said/ I can offer no proof/ Cause there's a lot I don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ Yeah there's a lot you don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ And I know/ That you say/ You won't go/ And I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/. I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ There's a lot you don't know/ There's a lot you don't know....
There's a lot I don't know.
I don't know what his favorite color is. I don't know what his favorite restarunt is. I don't know how he likes his coffee or even if he likes coffee.
His favorite breakfast cereal is a mystery, does he even go for breakfast food? I don't know his mother's maiden name or the name of his first crush. His life before me and SD-6 is a mystery.
There's a lot I can't tell.
I can't tell him about some things. I can't tell him how sorry I am for hurting him. He wouldn't understand my guilt. I can't tell him about the way I feel when I'm with him.
I can't tell him how comforting his arms are. Or how I think we fit together perfectly.
How sometimes I think he's the other half of me.
I can't tell him how I look forward to our meetings. Or how that picture frame was the best present I'd ever gotten in my entire life. How it was perfect.
If he knew me that well.
If he knew me like that.
Would he still stand by my side? He's told me he would stay. He's told me in roundabout ways that he cares, that he'll always listen.
But I don't know.
I'd like to believe it. I'd like so much to put all my faith in him. In his words.
I want so much to run to him and tell him about this new development.
But there's a lot I don't know.
I don't know what he'll do when he finds out she's still alive.
Will he think my fears are unfounded, that I'm losing my edge? That I'm grasping at straws.
Will he be angry with me, with her? Hell I'm angry with her, with what I am because of her. But he doesn't know that. He doesn't understand how deep it goes.
And I can't tell him that.
But he said he won't leave and I'd like to believe him.
He knows so much and yet so little.
I've tried to come up with ways to tell him. I've spent the last twenty four hours dreading our meeting. Dreading the moment when I have to tell him.
My father offered to do it for me.
But there is so much my father doesn't know about us, about me.
I'm the only one who can tell him.
Whether he thinks me crazy or not. He needs to hear it from my mouth, from my lips.
Still.
I just want him to know me.
I just want him to understand how sorry I am. How guilty I feel. I just want him to know.
There's a lot I don't know.
But he says he won't go and I'd like to believe him.
I know that there's no one left to save us.
The truth, the whole truth, will come out. What it will do to us I don't know?
If he knew me that well. If he knew. Then I'd know too.
I'd know that his words, his promises, would be kept.
I'd know exactly how he felt. If I knew him that well.
There's a lot I don't know.
I don't know his favorite color. His favorite T-shirt, the one he's kept for years because it's comfortable, because it holds memories for him, even if it is tattered and faded.
I don't know where he went to school or what he majored in. I know almost nothing about his family aside from his crazy aunt Trish and his father.
There's a lot I don't know.
And telling him that my mother, his father's killer, is still alive...
Well that's something I don't know.
Disclaimer: nope I own nothing. zip zilch. I'm getting over that. I'm moving on with my life after the harsh let down and the failed negotiations. JJ still owns the bunch. And apparently he always will.
Rating: G
Summery: Syd POV on the living mother developments.
AN: Inspired by the song Save Me by the pierces. Which btw I don't own...
There's a lot you don't know/ There's a lot I can't tell/ Would you think I'm crazy?/ If you knew me that well./ Cause there's a lot you don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ Is it all in my head/ Or somehow is it true/ Was it something I said/ I can offer no proof/ Cause there's a lot I don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ Yeah there's a lot you don't know/ But you say/ You won't go and I'd like to believe you/ And I know/ That you say/ You won't go/ And I'd like to believe you/ But I know/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/. I am the only one/ There's no one left to save me/ There's a lot you don't know/ There's a lot you don't know....
There's a lot I don't know.
I don't know what his favorite color is. I don't know what his favorite restarunt is. I don't know how he likes his coffee or even if he likes coffee.
His favorite breakfast cereal is a mystery, does he even go for breakfast food? I don't know his mother's maiden name or the name of his first crush. His life before me and SD-6 is a mystery.
There's a lot I can't tell.
I can't tell him about some things. I can't tell him how sorry I am for hurting him. He wouldn't understand my guilt. I can't tell him about the way I feel when I'm with him.
I can't tell him how comforting his arms are. Or how I think we fit together perfectly.
How sometimes I think he's the other half of me.
I can't tell him how I look forward to our meetings. Or how that picture frame was the best present I'd ever gotten in my entire life. How it was perfect.
If he knew me that well.
If he knew me like that.
Would he still stand by my side? He's told me he would stay. He's told me in roundabout ways that he cares, that he'll always listen.
But I don't know.
I'd like to believe it. I'd like so much to put all my faith in him. In his words.
I want so much to run to him and tell him about this new development.
But there's a lot I don't know.
I don't know what he'll do when he finds out she's still alive.
Will he think my fears are unfounded, that I'm losing my edge? That I'm grasping at straws.
Will he be angry with me, with her? Hell I'm angry with her, with what I am because of her. But he doesn't know that. He doesn't understand how deep it goes.
And I can't tell him that.
But he said he won't leave and I'd like to believe him.
He knows so much and yet so little.
I've tried to come up with ways to tell him. I've spent the last twenty four hours dreading our meeting. Dreading the moment when I have to tell him.
My father offered to do it for me.
But there is so much my father doesn't know about us, about me.
I'm the only one who can tell him.
Whether he thinks me crazy or not. He needs to hear it from my mouth, from my lips.
Still.
I just want him to know me.
I just want him to understand how sorry I am. How guilty I feel. I just want him to know.
There's a lot I don't know.
But he says he won't go and I'd like to believe him.
I know that there's no one left to save us.
The truth, the whole truth, will come out. What it will do to us I don't know?
If he knew me that well. If he knew. Then I'd know too.
I'd know that his words, his promises, would be kept.
I'd know exactly how he felt. If I knew him that well.
There's a lot I don't know.
I don't know his favorite color. His favorite T-shirt, the one he's kept for years because it's comfortable, because it holds memories for him, even if it is tattered and faded.
I don't know where he went to school or what he majored in. I know almost nothing about his family aside from his crazy aunt Trish and his father.
There's a lot I don't know.
And telling him that my mother, his father's killer, is still alive...
Well that's something I don't know.