First off, this story is weird. W-E-I-R-D. I started writing it like, 6 months ago and stopped. I went through my files last night and opened it. I started adding things onto it, not quite sure about where it was going. It doesn't make sense, no, but it does clear my thoughts a bit. So yeah, I'm glad it's finished and well, I'm posting it so I can tell myself that it's *done*.
*****************
Sometimes he likes to sit in the old wooden chair on the porch and watch the sun as it starts to set.
He likes to watch as the bright colors become enveloped in darkness. The moon finally sets in and in a way... he's safe again.
He's been living in the darkness for over 6 months now.
*******
He never really acknowledges that she's there. He doesn't fidget at all when her small hand squeezes his bulky shoulder. Her lips lightly trace his jawline and she whispers in his ear. He never knows what she's saying. Sometimes he wonders if she's even saying anything at all. He still can't get over the ghosts that whisper in his head.
She runs her hands over his head, almost as if she's trying to rid him of the bad thoughts. Sometimes he's so numb he can't feel her hands touching him. He wonders if his skin is even his own anymore.
She kneels down in front of him and places her hands on his face.
Mireme, el amor.
'Look at me my love.'
He never does.
**********
He wishes he could see himself how others see him. They still look at him like he's a guide. A leader.
No, he isn't a leader anymore. If they only knew..
If they only knew *why* he wakes up in the middle of his sleep, sweat dripping from his brow, low groans embedded in his throat. If they only realized that he couldn't protect them forever. He couldn't always be there. He didn't even have that faith anymore. He lost that faith when he felt Jesse's body shudder and then still in his arms.
He cried. He cried for days. He'd known that Jesse didn't survive. He felt the shock replace the pain as vengeance surged it's way through his veins. He couldn't let Johnny get away with it. He didn't let Johnny get away with it. And it'd felt good. It felt good to watch Johnny fall, to watch Johnny's last breath escape his lips... but then, he realized that he wasn't any better than him. He never killed anyone before. He hated the thought that the name Dominic Toretto: King of Street Racers now had "Murderer" tacked to it.
**************
He sits on the porch and watches the team from afar. He can see them pretty well despite the Mexico sun. He sees Leon in the oceans water's. He sees Mia, walking along the shore, picking up shells and he can see Letty bending down, running her fingers through the sand. Sometimes, he believes he sees Vince and Jesse out there with the others. He can hear Vince and Leon bicker back and forth about who's faster and what football team will make it to the Superbowl. He can hear Jesse's wavery voice in his head, scolding him for not shifting right. He faintly remembers a time when he was just a kid, sitting on his father's lap, learning how to drive. The scent of fresh leather from the interior of the car still lingers in his nose.
****************
He's almost old now. Or he feels like it, at least. His body hunched over as he nurses a cup of strong black coffee. She emerges from the room, the wooden floors creaking under her weight and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. She misses him, he knows that much. She tilts his head up and places her lips on his own. There's urgency laced within the kiss, a tangy taste of lonliness lingering on her tongue. She sits herself down in his lap and he can feel himself stirring. Almost as if he's waking up from a dead sleep. A low moan escapes from his lips, but this time, it's not a torturous one. It's a wakening. One that tells him he's still alive and that he's still loved. He's still loved and wanted despite all that he feels or doesn't feel. He's still a hero in their eyes, he always will be. He slips inside her and his world spins. He doesn't see the demons that usually cloud his head, instead he sees her face. Letty's big brown eyes that meet his own. Her beautiful smile that tells him it's okay to cry, it's okay to mourn, that it's okay to move on.
He feels the tension leave his body as they both still and the world stops spinning.
"It's okay," Letty says breathlessly, leanining in to kiss the corners of his mouth. "It's going to be okay."
And he can see that she's right.
************************
He sleeps. He finally falls into a peaceful slumber, one that doesn't cloud his head with bad dreams or thoughts of the past. Ones that don't include the shoulda/coulda/woulda mantra he'd been living by for the past 6 months.
He can see faces now. He sees Jesse smiling at him, chiding him along. Jesse telling him that he's okay and that in a way, he's happier because he's free.
He sees Brian, the cop who in the end, saved his life. He doesn't hate him as much as he thought he did. In fact, he misses him in the way he misses the team as a whole.
And when he wakes up, he can tell that something is different. The Mexico sun is shining a little bit brighter and he can hear the oceans waves crashing on the shore.
He can hear the sounds of laughter now.
*******************
Sometimes he likes to sit in the old wooden chair on the porch and watch the sun as it starts to set.
He likes to watch as the bright colors become enveloped in darkness. The moon finally sets in and in a way... he's safe again.
It's the same routine everytime. She reaches down and runs her hands over his head, almost as if she's trying to rid him of the bad thoughts. Sometimes he's so numb he can't feel her hands touching him. He wonders if his skin is even his own anymore.
She kneels down in front of him and places her hands on his face.
He can *feel* her hands touching him.
Mireme, el amor.
'Look at me my love.'
He does and he can see everything now. He can see his heart in her eyes. He can see that the darkness doesn't envelope him anymore, and for the first time in a long time, he's free.
*****************
Sometimes he likes to sit in the old wooden chair on the porch and watch the sun as it starts to set.
He likes to watch as the bright colors become enveloped in darkness. The moon finally sets in and in a way... he's safe again.
He's been living in the darkness for over 6 months now.
*******
He never really acknowledges that she's there. He doesn't fidget at all when her small hand squeezes his bulky shoulder. Her lips lightly trace his jawline and she whispers in his ear. He never knows what she's saying. Sometimes he wonders if she's even saying anything at all. He still can't get over the ghosts that whisper in his head.
She runs her hands over his head, almost as if she's trying to rid him of the bad thoughts. Sometimes he's so numb he can't feel her hands touching him. He wonders if his skin is even his own anymore.
She kneels down in front of him and places her hands on his face.
Mireme, el amor.
'Look at me my love.'
He never does.
**********
He wishes he could see himself how others see him. They still look at him like he's a guide. A leader.
No, he isn't a leader anymore. If they only knew..
If they only knew *why* he wakes up in the middle of his sleep, sweat dripping from his brow, low groans embedded in his throat. If they only realized that he couldn't protect them forever. He couldn't always be there. He didn't even have that faith anymore. He lost that faith when he felt Jesse's body shudder and then still in his arms.
He cried. He cried for days. He'd known that Jesse didn't survive. He felt the shock replace the pain as vengeance surged it's way through his veins. He couldn't let Johnny get away with it. He didn't let Johnny get away with it. And it'd felt good. It felt good to watch Johnny fall, to watch Johnny's last breath escape his lips... but then, he realized that he wasn't any better than him. He never killed anyone before. He hated the thought that the name Dominic Toretto: King of Street Racers now had "Murderer" tacked to it.
**************
He sits on the porch and watches the team from afar. He can see them pretty well despite the Mexico sun. He sees Leon in the oceans water's. He sees Mia, walking along the shore, picking up shells and he can see Letty bending down, running her fingers through the sand. Sometimes, he believes he sees Vince and Jesse out there with the others. He can hear Vince and Leon bicker back and forth about who's faster and what football team will make it to the Superbowl. He can hear Jesse's wavery voice in his head, scolding him for not shifting right. He faintly remembers a time when he was just a kid, sitting on his father's lap, learning how to drive. The scent of fresh leather from the interior of the car still lingers in his nose.
****************
He's almost old now. Or he feels like it, at least. His body hunched over as he nurses a cup of strong black coffee. She emerges from the room, the wooden floors creaking under her weight and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. She misses him, he knows that much. She tilts his head up and places her lips on his own. There's urgency laced within the kiss, a tangy taste of lonliness lingering on her tongue. She sits herself down in his lap and he can feel himself stirring. Almost as if he's waking up from a dead sleep. A low moan escapes from his lips, but this time, it's not a torturous one. It's a wakening. One that tells him he's still alive and that he's still loved. He's still loved and wanted despite all that he feels or doesn't feel. He's still a hero in their eyes, he always will be. He slips inside her and his world spins. He doesn't see the demons that usually cloud his head, instead he sees her face. Letty's big brown eyes that meet his own. Her beautiful smile that tells him it's okay to cry, it's okay to mourn, that it's okay to move on.
He feels the tension leave his body as they both still and the world stops spinning.
"It's okay," Letty says breathlessly, leanining in to kiss the corners of his mouth. "It's going to be okay."
And he can see that she's right.
************************
He sleeps. He finally falls into a peaceful slumber, one that doesn't cloud his head with bad dreams or thoughts of the past. Ones that don't include the shoulda/coulda/woulda mantra he'd been living by for the past 6 months.
He can see faces now. He sees Jesse smiling at him, chiding him along. Jesse telling him that he's okay and that in a way, he's happier because he's free.
He sees Brian, the cop who in the end, saved his life. He doesn't hate him as much as he thought he did. In fact, he misses him in the way he misses the team as a whole.
And when he wakes up, he can tell that something is different. The Mexico sun is shining a little bit brighter and he can hear the oceans waves crashing on the shore.
He can hear the sounds of laughter now.
*******************
Sometimes he likes to sit in the old wooden chair on the porch and watch the sun as it starts to set.
He likes to watch as the bright colors become enveloped in darkness. The moon finally sets in and in a way... he's safe again.
It's the same routine everytime. She reaches down and runs her hands over his head, almost as if she's trying to rid him of the bad thoughts. Sometimes he's so numb he can't feel her hands touching him. He wonders if his skin is even his own anymore.
She kneels down in front of him and places her hands on his face.
He can *feel* her hands touching him.
Mireme, el amor.
'Look at me my love.'
He does and he can see everything now. He can see his heart in her eyes. He can see that the darkness doesn't envelope him anymore, and for the first time in a long time, he's free.