35 themes: "Fountain"
Author:
Carcinya (Isolde on Fanfiction(dot)net)
Author
E-mail: carcinya(at)aol(dot)com
Category: Angst
Rating:
G
Spoilers: Season 4.
Summary: Once, he had loved
that fountain. Theme 7 (Gen, drabble, post Sentinel Too)
Disclaimer:
This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by
Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo,
various publishers including but not limited to Pet Fly Productions,
UPN, and Paramount. No money is being made
and no copyright infringement intended.
Author's notes: I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistake there might be in this story. I am French, and still only learning the beautiful language that is English. Any comments are welcome, but obviously flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Or flamers.
My second TS vignette, and something of an experiment. Let me know what you think.
Theme 7: "Fountain" (500 words)
Once, he had loved that fountain.
The first time he had set foot at Rainier, at sixteen, he had been embarrassingly shy and short and brilliant. He had hesitated, torn between the overwhelming need to run away without ever looking back, and an intense, almost physical yearning for knowledge.
He had compromised by walking to the fountain. There Blair had looked into the water and seen hope. He had drawn himself up and stepped into his new life.
As a student, he had often sat on the ledge on damp, hot summer days and reveled in the fresh crisp scent of waterfall that clung to the stone itself. He had found the soft, crystalline sound of rippling water helped him focus, comforted him, chased off his childish nightmares of failed exams and forgotten homework.
On graduation day, after the ceremony, he had escaped from the hustle and bustle of self-congratulating students and sickeningly proud parents. Naomi had not come, so he had had no reason to stay. Blair had removed his graduation cap, laid down on the sun-warmed stone, and dozed off listening to the water, the black fabric of the mortarboard rough and itchy under his fingertips.
Years later, as a teacher, he had liked to come here to unwind after proctoring a particularly long exam, or a long day marking essays in his office.
He had loved that fountain.
Yet after teaming up with Jim Ellison, he had found his time spent at Rainier decreasing, and his interest in working with the Cop of the Year waxing dramatically. He had only felt the need to come to the fountain on the rare occasions when he and Jim quarreled hard enough to warrant a few days apart.
When Jim had thrown him out of his home and his life, Blair had dragged himself to Rainier in the middle of the night and collapsed in front of the fountain, back where everything had started.
It was morbidly fitting that a place that had held so much significance in his life would also become the place of his death.
He did not remember much of it, to be fair – mostly he had pieced together what he had managed to glean from Brown and Megan, since Simon had refused categorically to let him read the police report. True to his repressive tendencies, Jim had turned down every single of Blair's attempts to talk about it.
Alex had come to him with a gun and thanked him -- that much he remembered.
Afterwards his memories became blurry, for which he supposed he ought to be grateful. He had a vague, dream-like recollection of being dragged, flaying and kicking and terrorized, all the way from his office to the fountain. Then, by all accounts, she had drowned him in the very water he had once found so soothing.
The irony was not lost on him.
Once, he had loved that fountain. Now when he stared into the water, Blair only saw death.
-- end --
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