Author: Reagan
E-Mail:
Summary: Drable, Not with a bang but a whimper
Characters: Will, Deanna
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Author's Note: Depressing piece that's been haunting me everytime I play this mp3 on my laptop.
Lyrics and song are Make Up Your Mind by Theory of a Deadman, whenever I hear it I think of these two.
Feedback is great, send to the above or post a comment here, thanks. Now on with my 488 words.
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Make up your mind and I'll make up mine
Don't worry about me, I'll be fine
Those words that you said to me, why wasn't I listening?
I wish I hadn't met you at all, I started thinking
I'll sit back and relax and wait for the morning
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Will sat there wondering if this was all his fault. "Of course," he bitterly chuckled. Why did she do this to him? No one else in the universe, not even his father, had this kind of effect on him. Sitting at the table, memories assailing him, he feared this might be the final straw. Just when he was reevaluating his life, career, her place in it, she drops this at his feet and their entire byzantine relationship blows up in his face once again. Maybe an even better question might be why does he allow her to do this to him. Fifteen years of "friendship" and he still didn't have a clue. Will savored the burn of the fake scotch in his glass, unfortunately it didn't actually change anything.
He doesn't understand exactly how the disagreement started. A polite euphemism for fight, the ugliness not in caustically raised voices, but the sad finality of coming full circle for the last time. He knows this is really the end but can't comprehend how he's supposed to continue serving along side her, pretending that nothing has changed. He fears that he doesn't affect her in the same way. That she'll be able to walk away, never looking back, and wonders when he became so damn weak.
"Will, we have to stop doing this to ourselves." The words burn and he knows he'll never forget the lack of tears in her eyes. As though this was just another counselling session for her and not one of the most fundamental things in their lives. Not the destruction of the truest friendship, hell deepest relationship of any kind, he's ever known.
Those words she had uttered weeks ago under her breath had driven a stake into his heart. They had played it off but the damage may have been too great to overcome. "I wish I hadn't met you at all." He'd agonized over them, how she could possibly mean that, but obviously there was more truth for her there than in anything else they had shared in far too long.
Gods it was going to hurt and Will Riker knew he would never be able to commit to a serious relationship again but somehow he'd move on. Someday he'd be able to pretend that there wasn't a gaping hole in his life. In the meantime he'd reinvest all he had to Starfleet and the uniform he wore.
This really was for the last time. One week after he left, a message arrived for Lwaxana Troi. "You were right." That hurt most of all.
