TITLE: Mercury
AUTHOR: Vicinity
SUMMARY: The idea of redemption leads Yves - and Jimmy - into the heart of something more dangerous than she could have imagined. Formerly titled "The Immortality Solution."
RATING:
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine.
SPOILERS: Takes place after "Jump the Shark." Makes reference to another one of my stories, "Madrigal."
AUTHOR's NOTES:
*****************************************************************************
A tableau in the growing darkness. They sit opposite each other, neither saying a word, as the shadows come and the temperature drops. She thinks that he will have to go, and she thinks that she is being irrational. He is still. She looks behind him, out the window, at the dark-red sky. Scarlet, she thinks, and the blackness when there is nothing left. She wonders how long it took for her mother to decide, to finally escape. She watched her then, and she did not envy her destruction. She thought it was weak, the entire act. Now she is not sure, and she hates not knowing. She hates not being certain of anything.
Her vision blurs slightly, and then she feels the burning in her eyes and realises that she is crying. She swallows sharply to force herself to stop, and she wants to tell him to look away, to not see her like this. She wants him to let her fall apart by herself so that he will not watch the shattering. She thinks that it would be inexcusable to let him see, for the both of them. She doesn't say anything, turning her head away from him and refusing to touch her face. She will not acknowledge them, she thinks.
He does not say anything, and she appreciates this. She wonders why, but she does not want to break the silence. Does not want to draw attention, to make him see her.
"You don't need to be strong," he says finally, and she thinks that there will be more. There isn't, though, and so she lets out her breath.
"Yes, I do," she answers, even as she knows she does not need to and by doing so she is playing his game, speaking her cues. She stands quickly, because suddenly the scene is oppressive and frozen. "I'm going out," she tells him.
"I'm coming with you," he says softly, and she suddenly does not want to know why. She does not want to know what he thinks of her. She does not want to care. She doesn't answer him, grabbing her jacket as she goes out the door. He closes it behind them, taking care to make sure that it locks. She realizes that she does not care about that anymore. There are so many other ways of destruction than the physical assassin can offer.
Outside the air smells of the ocean and growing darkness. It is cool and the neon is too bright for the early evening. She walks past the car, because she does not want the forced conversation that will accompany such a ride. She thinks that she will walk forever, but then he is next to her and he is asking her where they are going.
"I don't know," she says, sounding vaguely amused. "I don't know. Why don't you choose?"
He grabs her arm, forcing her to stop, and she wonders why she doesn't stop him herself. "Yves, stop it." She pulls her arm away, not responding. She doesn't know how to. What else she can say.
"I don't think I can." The words surprise her, and she immediately wants to take them back. He is looking at her as if she has said something incredibly profound, and she wants him to stop. She turns to leave him there, and she is several feet away by the time he replies.
"I know."
AUTHOR: Vicinity
SUMMARY: The idea of redemption leads Yves - and Jimmy - into the heart of something more dangerous than she could have imagined. Formerly titled "The Immortality Solution."
RATING:
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine.
SPOILERS: Takes place after "Jump the Shark." Makes reference to another one of my stories, "Madrigal."
AUTHOR's NOTES:
*****************************************************************************
A tableau in the growing darkness. They sit opposite each other, neither saying a word, as the shadows come and the temperature drops. She thinks that he will have to go, and she thinks that she is being irrational. He is still. She looks behind him, out the window, at the dark-red sky. Scarlet, she thinks, and the blackness when there is nothing left. She wonders how long it took for her mother to decide, to finally escape. She watched her then, and she did not envy her destruction. She thought it was weak, the entire act. Now she is not sure, and she hates not knowing. She hates not being certain of anything.
Her vision blurs slightly, and then she feels the burning in her eyes and realises that she is crying. She swallows sharply to force herself to stop, and she wants to tell him to look away, to not see her like this. She wants him to let her fall apart by herself so that he will not watch the shattering. She thinks that it would be inexcusable to let him see, for the both of them. She doesn't say anything, turning her head away from him and refusing to touch her face. She will not acknowledge them, she thinks.
He does not say anything, and she appreciates this. She wonders why, but she does not want to break the silence. Does not want to draw attention, to make him see her.
"You don't need to be strong," he says finally, and she thinks that there will be more. There isn't, though, and so she lets out her breath.
"Yes, I do," she answers, even as she knows she does not need to and by doing so she is playing his game, speaking her cues. She stands quickly, because suddenly the scene is oppressive and frozen. "I'm going out," she tells him.
"I'm coming with you," he says softly, and she suddenly does not want to know why. She does not want to know what he thinks of her. She does not want to care. She doesn't answer him, grabbing her jacket as she goes out the door. He closes it behind them, taking care to make sure that it locks. She realizes that she does not care about that anymore. There are so many other ways of destruction than the physical assassin can offer.
Outside the air smells of the ocean and growing darkness. It is cool and the neon is too bright for the early evening. She walks past the car, because she does not want the forced conversation that will accompany such a ride. She thinks that she will walk forever, but then he is next to her and he is asking her where they are going.
"I don't know," she says, sounding vaguely amused. "I don't know. Why don't you choose?"
He grabs her arm, forcing her to stop, and she wonders why she doesn't stop him herself. "Yves, stop it." She pulls her arm away, not responding. She doesn't know how to. What else she can say.
"I don't think I can." The words surprise her, and she immediately wants to take them back. He is looking at her as if she has said something incredibly profound, and she wants him to stop. She turns to leave him there, and she is several feet away by the time he replies.
"I know."