Hi guys! This is one of the first fan fictions I've ever written, and the VERY first one I've ever posted. That said, I am appreciative of any feedback and criticism. (Really. I can take it.) If you find any errors, anything inaccurate, or anything that just isn't canon no matter how you look at it, then please do drop me a line.
I just finished watching Jericho (it's my third time) and I am pretty obsessed right now, particularly with the Beck/Heather ship. This tiny little one-shot was written the day after I finished the last episode, and as you astute Jericho fans already will recognize, it is based off of the last scene Beck and Heather are in.
Hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think... good OR bad.
Movement catches my eye. I look up.
It's her.
Quickly, I look away. Ashamed.
She approaches and I'm sure as hell she's going to give me an earful.
And I deserve it. I'm ready for it.
In my peripheral vision, she sits atop the desk, hands folded in her lap. She looks so young. So small and vulnerable.
She doesn't say a word.
I want her to chew me out. At this moment, I need her scolding like I need oxygen. I was in idiot to a woman worlds braver than I've ever been in my entire twenty-five years in the army. I need some judgment.
My gut, since the day she sat across from me with her hamburger at Bailey's, was that I could trust her. And I generally put a lot of stock in my gut instincts. Then she betrayed me, and I was hurt. And angry. But I was only angry because I was hurt. I'd idolized her and couldn't bear her doing wrong, being on the wrong side, being against my army. I knew what people like her had coming and she was too sweet, too innocent to go that route.
She's still there. Not a word. She's watching me, but I can't look at her. I feel naked, ashamed, and exposed.
"I told the lieutenant to release you without condition." I'm surprised by my own voice. I hadn't planned on saying the first word. I'd let her start, and at least I'd know what I was dealing with.
I stare hard into the scotch in my hand.
I still haven't looked at her. I've tried.
Why isn't she talking?
"You don't need to be here."
I mean it. Run, Heather Lisinski. Run from me. From this mess. I hope to God you find a safe place and you'll be happy. But please just outrun this whole disaster.
You just don't need to be here.
"I know." Her voice is confident and tender, all at the same time. And that's when I look at her.
Blue eyes shine back at me and her smile blinds me. And I mull over her words, pregnant with meaning.
Why is she here? Why did she come back to me? Why isn't she angry? She's just come from a prison cell, and I put here there. I've been hostile to her friends and her beloved town, and of course I never wanted to be, and I swear I was only doing my job with no idea of what was what.
Why, Heather? And those bright eyes, that smile—why are they extending friendship after all I've done?
She needs to go. Get out of here.
The whole army is a sham, and the government it's working for a corrupt animal breaking the necks of innocents. I want to get her far away. Hide her. Make her happy.
Wait. No. I won't make her happy. I couldn't. But I want her to find happy. So innocent and sweet, and she's barely lived yet. There is so much for her to do and experience, and it's the end of the world. It's not fair.
And she shouldn't be here, but she is.
Quiet and pensive, just looking at me. I look back, and she smiles. A tentative smile of grace. And trust.
I need to tell her to go, to find safety, to find her happiness somewhere out there. I clench my glass as my gut tightens, because I really don't want to. It's selfish, but in this moment while she just looks at me and I just look at her I feel a peace I haven't known since the day this nightmare began.
I will tell her to go.
But not just yet.
I raise my glass her way, and her smile reaches her eyes.