Title: The Chalet Lines- Part 9 of DCW
Author: nyxie9
Disclaimer: Well, Carrie's mine but not much else.
Comic: x-men, AU
Spoilers: none
Pairing/Characters: Sam Guthrie/OC
Summary: Carrie's turn to ponder her future.
The Chalet Lines
Fuck this, I've felt like this for a week
I'd put a knife right into his eyes
My friend can't see
She asks me why I don't
Tell the law
Oh what's the fucking point at all
Carrie's dreams came unbidden that night but not unexpectedly. Those old memories that lent themselves to old wounds ran deep and were things she hadn't thought of much in some time. Innocent at first, even unremarkable but her reality ran together with her unconsciousness. The pain was distant but the fear, the hopelessness, the failure, the sadness, the anger, they were all palpable. The blows that fell upon her hard and fast, faster and harder than she remembered them ever happening. They came from an unseen but familiar source.
The house wasn't her own but lying on the kitchen floor, having been told to clean up herself and her own blood after a sadly routine beating was. She knew she would die there if she did nothing. And somehow she knew that she had died there already. The coppery taste of her own blood was strangely overwhelming, slick against the tile floor, still wet and sticky. It had begun to dry against her hair and face, obscuring her vision a bit. There was a time she would have looked at herself in the mirror, regretting the loss of whatever beauty she still had to the ugly dark swells of flesh and blood. Now she only took note of it.
And then she found herself running to the coast, the soft grass giving way to sand and then waves as she tried to lose herself in a frothy embrace. Her tears mixed with the ocean water and she hoped that if they could become one with the sea she could too. The salt stung her cuts but she barely felt it. She was so heavy she didn't know how she could stay afloat. Letting herself sink, she fought her body's need for oxygen, for life as she let the water fill her lungs. Blackness surrounded her, pulled at her mind as she let go. It was so peaceful, even the panic her body tried to push into her mind was settling for some reason.
In the dream, just as in reality she woke on the coast, someone trying to save her. He breathed life into her frail, broken body. He returned the life she had rejected. However he wasn't the same stranger who had done it the first time. No, now the kindly man's face was that of Sam Guthrie.
She woke, alarmed yet calm as she turned to see the man from her dream sleeping peacefully beside her as if he had no knowledge of the way her subconscious had betrayed her feelings for him. Did she honestly see him as a savior? No. She couldn't possibly. It was just a dream, old memories that mixed with new ones. Sam was just a guy, albeit a man she cared deeply for and could even love but he hadn't saved her. He made her want to care and he made her happy. Maybe he had saved her from the life of loneliness and bitterness she had set upon.
That too tasted bitter in her mouth as she disliked the idea of depending on anyone for anything, giving up her control to this man. Despite her tender feeling for him, he would never own her. It was a dark thought she knew. It was based out of fear and her past but it didn't change the fact that it was there. She wished she didn't feel that way. Carrington wished that she could go back to the time where she could trust implicitly, give herself fully to someone. Could she even remember that time? She had always been a bit disconnected from people and even before she had turned away from them, she'd had few friends.
Part of her thought things would have been easier if she had simply slept with him weeks ago and left rather than play boyfriend and girlfriend. Sex was easier. No connections, no involvement and she wouldn't end up caring for him. But now she knew him, knew about things him and actually liked him. The worst part about it was how easy, deceptively easy it had been to fall for him. It scared her as well as thrilled her. And she didn't want to ruin it. She wanted to keep Sam for herself. The petite blonde sighed, safe in Sam's strong arms. He looked so calm, handsome, rugged, kind. Carrie shifted her arm, raised her hand to stroke his face, touch his hair. The woman felt her chest tighten with emotions that were just as undesired in that moment as her dream had been.
How could he make her feel so conflicted? She wanted to hear him tell her he loved her again, that he would never hurt her, that he needed her, that he wanted her, and that he would love her forever. The first time had been unsettling too, confusing and comforting. Sam wasn't trying to pull something over on her. He stirred at her softly desperate touch. Not wanting to wake him, she pushed him back into sleep, giving him sweet dreams with her seldom used powers. It was the only kind thing she knew she could give him. It was then she thought perhaps she should tell him her secret. He was a mutant, he would understand, right?
Of course if she had been a mutant herself perhaps he would have understood but she wasn't. She wasn't even human, not entirely. Hallmark didn't offer a card for that. The woman didn't want to ruin her future over her past. Why tell him? She wanted to be normal. If she just closed her eyes and went back to sleep, maybe she could be normal for a few hours at least. Carrie tucked her head under his chin, securely against his chest. She whispered five words as she wrapped her arms around him now and waited for a dreamless sleep to come: Sam Guthrie, I love you.
