Disclaimer: I am not Lucy Christopher, 'Stolen' does not belong to me.
Author Note: I first read Stolen years and years ago, and have loved it ever since then. I've wanted to write a fanfic for Stolen for a long time, but was never sure what approach to take or how to do it. Then listening to the Crowded House song 'Distant Sun' inspired this- it's a great song.
This fic is quite disjointed, as it splits between Gemma writing to Ty and Gemma's firsthand POV. To clarify, anything in italics is Gemma writing to Ty.
There is some swearing, staying true to the style of writing in 'Stolen', but nothing too bad.
Thank you for reading.
Everything is both eternal and brief- Ty, Stolen.
I know I said I wasn't going to write anymore, but ever since I typed those words and shut down the laptop, the feeling of wanting to continue has been nagging at me until I can't sleep or think or breathe without seeing those words in my mind. So final, so devoid of hope.
I don't know what I expect to gain from writing to you- tomorrow I will see you again in the confines of some grimy courtroom. Mum will be clutching my hand for as long as she can, her eyes wide and begging me to put an end to all this. Dad will be grim faced and tightly wound- he never used to have a temper, but now I swear if he could, he would kick the shit out of you for dragging me out of my life and into your own. They both seem to have changed, evolved, since they got me back. They seem fiercer, more protective, desperately loving. Have they changed? Or is it just my perspective that's been warped by you and your oh, so convincing lies? That's one thing I want to punish you for, Ty, this feeling of being a stranger around the people I love and know the most. It's as if your mentality and your world has bonded with mine- as if the magic of the land you love has somehow managed to enter my blood and flow round my body until my heart becomes as wild as yours.
I don't want to lose who I was; I want to return back to my old life, go back to being Gemma Toombs, boring as every other whingeing teenage girl. But now I've tasted the freedom of your world, my heart is refusing to go back into the restrictive confines of my old life.
Mum and Dad hate you.
They hate you for stealing their baby from them, for making them think I was gone forever, for letting them taste the bitter poison of regrets, of the endless questions and self doubt. They see a monster, a cold and cruel monster. But the judge won't ask Mum or Dad, or Mr Samuels, or even you. He'll ask me. And the trouble is, Ty, you haven't only screwed with my perception of the world, you've made me dumb and blind and clueless when it comes to you too. I know what they want me to say; that you're a monster, that you drugged me and took me away and forced me into a world of danger and fear. That's true- I hated you, I bloody hated you.
But at the same time, I owe you everything.
Why didn't you leave me at the mine site, or the hospital? Why did you obey the wishes of a half delirious girl, knowing full well that your dreams would be shattered, that you would be forcibly severed from the land and life you love so very much? Did you feel guilty- did you feel like you had to be stolen too, to show me you were sorry?
No. That's a complete load of crap. You stayed with me because you cared. And I care about you, Ty, I really do. But I don't know if I have the power to manipulate the truth to let you escape to your red earth, back to the rocks and the spirits and the endless grains of burning sand.
I don't want to you go and leave me in this grey metropolis that feels like a clawing prison compared to the endlessness of your desert.
I don't want you to leave me, Ty.
How warped is that?