sylph_fics (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sylph_fics) wrote2008-02-16 08:34 am
sylph_fics) wrote2008-02-16 08:34 am
Slade fic
Right. I apped, and have been accepted, for Slade at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse.
The first prompt shattered my heart: http://theatricalmuse.net/images/ring_book.jpg and gave me fic.
Title: Loss
Word Count: 317
Character: Slade Wilson
It's a small thing, gleaming dully on top of the perfect stack of paper in the stark glow of the overhead fluorescent lights. It's been there since he first opened his eyes--eye, and he will eventually learn to refer to it in the singular--this morning, and despite the grief that lashes through him every time he sees it, he hasn't let Wintergreen move it, or the papers. His hand isn't quite steady enough, yet, to take it, or to read through the papers and sign them; though he will before they allow him to leave the hospital.
She deserves that much, at least, for him to give her the end of their marriage with something resembling speed... The end on paper, at least. Their marriage has had a dozen ends in the last weeks. It ended first with her realization that he had been lying to her. Or with the moment he snapped at her, told the strongest woman he knew not to grovel. Possibly with the second he refused (arrogantly, stupidly) to give up information for his son's safety... and certainly, irrevocably, it ended in the space between heartbeats that was still not fast enough to save his son's voice. He'd seen everything he was going to lose in the motion of the Jackal's arm--and uselessly, he wishes he'd been able to pay the price himself, rather than have it forced on his son. His sons, because God only knows what Addie will tell his wild Grant of this. Surely not the truth.
The paperwork that surely spells out in her family's lawyer's precise English exactly what he has lost is waiting for him... but he doesn't need the legal document to tell him. Her wedding ring weighting the papers down says more than the sound of the gun cocking about that.
What he's lost, after all, is everything that mattered to him.
theatrical_muse.The first prompt shattered my heart: http://theatricalmuse.net/images/ring_book.jpg and gave me fic.
Title: Loss
Word Count: 317
Character: Slade Wilson
It's a small thing, gleaming dully on top of the perfect stack of paper in the stark glow of the overhead fluorescent lights. It's been there since he first opened his eyes--eye, and he will eventually learn to refer to it in the singular--this morning, and despite the grief that lashes through him every time he sees it, he hasn't let Wintergreen move it, or the papers. His hand isn't quite steady enough, yet, to take it, or to read through the papers and sign them; though he will before they allow him to leave the hospital.
She deserves that much, at least, for him to give her the end of their marriage with something resembling speed... The end on paper, at least. Their marriage has had a dozen ends in the last weeks. It ended first with her realization that he had been lying to her. Or with the moment he snapped at her, told the strongest woman he knew not to grovel. Possibly with the second he refused (arrogantly, stupidly) to give up information for his son's safety... and certainly, irrevocably, it ended in the space between heartbeats that was still not fast enough to save his son's voice. He'd seen everything he was going to lose in the motion of the Jackal's arm--and uselessly, he wishes he'd been able to pay the price himself, rather than have it forced on his son. His sons, because God only knows what Addie will tell his wild Grant of this. Surely not the truth.
The paperwork that surely spells out in her family's lawyer's precise English exactly what he has lost is waiting for him... but he doesn't need the legal document to tell him. Her wedding ring weighting the papers down says more than the sound of the gun cocking about that.
What he's lost, after all, is everything that mattered to him.