Disclaimer: I pinky swear that this isn't mine. The title comes from the line of the Robert Frost poem "Fire and Ice," which was the inspiration for this fic.
Story Summary: They have built themselves a prison, one he doesn't think they can-or want to-escape together. Spoiler-ish for the season 7 finale.
A/n: This is a request fic, even though it really didn't make the cutoff for "March Madness" (which is why I published it as a one shot). Since it was time sensitive, I decided to tackle it now. Laura asked me to write about the speculation about the upcoming season finale, including what I would like to see happen (for Tom and Lynette). Technically this isn't what I want to see happen, but to be honest, the spoilers and speculation are pissing me off, so I needed to vent a little. As a result, this came out really dramatic and experimental and kind of angry.
Based on the speculation that Tom and Lynette will break up, and Tom will come close to doing something with Renee in the last episode of the season.
I would love to hear what you think, especially as this one is so different. Thank you all for your support and feedback. I really appreciate it more than I can say.
PS: If you all can leave any rumors/spoilers/speculation out of the reviews, I would appreciate it. Reading about it is really beginning to bum me out, and I need a break (you know, until the next wave of panic hits).
-Ryeloza
Some Say the World Will End in Fire
A story by Ryeloza
His heart is pounding.
There is this moment that goes on forever as they drown in distance and silence and sorrow, and they're just staring at one another. Renee is still standing so close to him that he can feel the heat from her body reminding him how cold he is. That slow kind of cold where everything tingles and burns and aches in some desperate fight against death.
He is freezing to death.
And that silence. It only exists between the two of them because Renee is babbling a million explanations a mile a minute
nothingisgoingonweweren'tdoinganythingweshouldn'thavehuggedbutit'snotwhatyouthinkiswear
but he isn't paying any attention and he doesn't think she is either because they're so wrapped up in that silence. It's that silence that has been slowly choking the life out of their marriage, one day at a time. The words they don't say, the things unspoken whenever they pause for breath in a fight, the sentences they just can't seem to put together. And no one else can encroach on that ever. It is theirs. Their prison from which they're forced to watch as everything slowly crumbles around them. Even now, he can't break free. Can't break those bars of verboten words that so craftily keep them from doing something to save themselves.
Because it should be him, not Renee, who is babbling a million explanations a mile a minute, but he is
...
He knows that he should say something
I'm sorry
I do still love you
Don't leave
Don't let me leave
but he doesn't.
Can't break free.
Won't break free.
They've pushed each other to their breaking points, finally reaching this standstill where she wants to escape to the left and he wants to disappear to the right and neither will back down. So they stand in their cage and stare at one another
can't compromise, can't admit I'm wrong even if I am, but she is too and how did this happen, why can't we make it right?
and it could be so easy to break the bars that block the way
the only way to go on together
and fix everything if only it wasn't so damn hard. Can't do it alone. Only together. And the only other choice is to walk in their opposite directions alone, alone, alone...
Forever.
And then...
He hears her.
"The hospital called. Parker and Penny..." She trails off, shakes her head. She is crying. The world stops. "They were in a car accident..."
"I'll drive." It is all he can say. They go. They drive. They silently pray and worry and try not to break.
And that is it. Just her crying and him trembling and nothing,
not even I'msurethey'reokaydon'tworryeverythingwillbefine
just nothing.
Even now, they can't...
It seems like this is the final nail on the coffin. If they can't even talk now, if they can't even be together now, then what hope remains? Somehow it doesn't hurt as much as he expected
doesn't pierce that icy numbness.
He used to think that everything was meaningless without her, but now she wants to fly away from him
or maybe he wants to fly away from her
and they're not together, not even now in the most terrifying moment of either of their lives. And yet somehow, life is still going on and on and on even though he is only him and she is only her and they are not them anymore. And so he thinks maybe he could do this. That if he's surviving, going, fighting through this torturous anxiety alone, then maybe he can be alone forever. Without her. For the first time in twenty years, he is without her. So yes, maybe he can do this. Be Tom without Lynette
Lynette without Tom.
And life will go on. Maybe
probably not
even better than before.
Maybe.
But that doesn't matter. Not really. It wouldn't even matter if someone guaranteed in writing that he will be better without her. The truth is that he will still take her back in a second if she only asks
he can't ask again, stupid stubborn pride, but he's not even sure she still loves him and he can't...
because despite it all, happy or miserable, he'd still rather be with her than without her.
When they get to the hospital, she moves like a star through the night sky, dress sparkling like diamonds as they rush across the parking lot toward that sterile, icy whiteness. So incongruous, as she always, always is.
He hates hospitals. Nothing good has ever happened for them here. Not lately. Not since Penny was born.
Inside they are both ridiculous, words falling like water as they say all the things they couldn't say to each other, ask all the questions that have burned privately in their minds. And they're told to wait. So they sit
next to each other
and her hand accidentally brushes his arm like nothing.
And they wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
In the silence. And there's nothing to think about now. Nothing to do but offer silent prayers
please let them be safe, please, please, please
and hope that someone is listening.
When the doctor comes, he rises so quickly the blood rushes to his head and his brain pounds. He can't breathe.
I'm sorry, the doctor says, but it sounds like the words are in his head; like he's thinking them, not hearing them. It's not good news.
And out of nowhere, she reaches for his hand, and he suddenly knows that the words were actually spoken and it's all so real that it's like his mind is trying to escape from his body. He's floating outside of himself, not present, not able, not breathing, not thinking...just waiting...hoping...
She squeezes his hand so tightly that he can feel her pulse racing beneath his fingers. Her heart matches his
...thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud...
They are together
Tom and Lynette
as the world
ends
in
fire...