AN: I considered turning this into a story but I decided that I like the one shot thing and then I decided that I couldn't just leave it at the beginning so its turned into a kind of a snap-shot kind of thing. Enjoy! There's a few more to come.
Inspired by Linkin Park "One Step Closer"
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Shawn was angry. When he got right down to it, he was constantly angry. A low burning flame that never went away because that was all he had left. He let the fear wash over him because the terror never quite went away and it froze him. Stopped him from breathing. Making chilling stabs through his heart and into his soul and only anger – hot, burning, lava like anger- could ever pull him away from that freezing death.
He gritted his teeth and smiled that smile of his. The one he gave all the nurses and doctors, the one that made most people believe that he was alright. But everything was constantly bubbling on the surface, waiting to explode. And sometimes he wondered why everyone couldn't see right through him. See that he was scared shitless and that all he wanted to do was cry and scream.
He wanted to give up. Wave the white flag. The thought crossed his mind, but if he had ever mentioned this thought to anyone else they would absolutely force him to talk to a shrink. And he didn't want that. He didn't have anything against shrinks, but when your mother is one…it tends makes things a little difficult.
He wanted them to stop. He wanted them to be real. To stop pretending that the impending threat of death wasn't there, that it wasn't even an option. Of course it was an option! It had been since he was born. He wanted to them to give him space, let him breathe a little.
He wanted…he wanted life to be fair. For it to be just. What had he ever done to deserve any of this? Sure, he had made some bad decisions but his intentions were never wrong and he always came clean to faults. It wasn't fair.
He knew it was childish and immature…but DAMN IT! It was suppose to be fair. Should be fair. But he knew that life didn't work that way.
They kept telling him that he was strong, that he was being brave. He took each word, but he did not take them to heart. In a way it felt like the words were pushing towards some unknown precipice. He knew what bravery meant but he didn't feel brave, he felt like he was just getting by. He was taking each day at a time and when they told him - reminded him - that he was being 'so brave and strong' he felt like they were trying to tell him to remember it all. To fight the whole war when all he could barely do take was one battle at a time.