alwaysenduphere (
alwaysenduphere) wrote2008-02-05 03:14 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Reflections in a Minute
Title: Reflections in a Minute
Author:
darkmerrick
Word Count: 417
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Spoilers: 2.11 "Powerless"
Disclaimers: I certainly wouldn't have made the story go this way if they belonged to me.
Summary: It's funny the things that can pass through a person's mind as they breathe their last.
A/n: Just an idea I had floatin around. I'm not sure I really enjoy how it turned out, but it's done, at least. Another notch in the "lets write sad fics" belt.
**
It was never supposed to be like this.
I should’ve known it was a bad idea. I think some of Peter’s naïve ideals transferred over into me the moment I came up with the plan. It’s a bold move, that’s for sure, one of those underhanded moves that my mother always encouraged me to make during my campaign.
I never expected Peter to return. There was always a part of me that hoped and, surprisingly, prayed for it. I knew he had to have had something to do with my miraculous return from a lump of charbroiled flesh, but holding on was such hard work, and I did my share of mourning.
I don’t want Peter to go through that.
I’m sure there’s chaos around me, but I can’t hear it. All I see is Peter’s face, contorted into something animalistic, a mixture of rage and distress. We haven’t had very much time together, but I can already see how much he’s changed since the explosion. That rage is a constant presence in him. It makes me worry he’s going to turn into something he never wanted to be. I saw a flash of it in the hallway at Primatech, and I hope he never lets it control him; I don’t want him to be anything like me, and lord knows I have plenty of rage in me at this point.
“I love you,” I slip out. I catch a glimpse of Matt’s form, above Peter. He’s got this look on his face like he’s trying to focus on someone’s thoughts, and I wonder who’s it is he’s listening to.
I keep waiting for Peter to respond to me, tell me he loves me too, but I can’t hear him. “Peter?” I try to say, but something causes the sound to come out garbled. I can see him trying to respond to me, frantic, but I can’t hear him anymore.
We lock eyes, and I try to let every emotion I have for Peter shine through in them, everything I want to say be portrayed. I can see how upset he is in his eyes, almost the first crack in his steely exterior that I’ve seen since we reunited. I’m glad that my floppy-haired little brother’s still in this man somewhere. I’ve missed him.
I’m not ready to say goodbye. I just got him back.
**
Author:
Word Count: 417
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Spoilers: 2.11 "Powerless"
Disclaimers: I certainly wouldn't have made the story go this way if they belonged to me.
Summary: It's funny the things that can pass through a person's mind as they breathe their last.
A/n: Just an idea I had floatin around. I'm not sure I really enjoy how it turned out, but it's done, at least. Another notch in the "lets write sad fics" belt.
**
It was never supposed to be like this.
I should’ve known it was a bad idea. I think some of Peter’s naïve ideals transferred over into me the moment I came up with the plan. It’s a bold move, that’s for sure, one of those underhanded moves that my mother always encouraged me to make during my campaign.
I never expected Peter to return. There was always a part of me that hoped and, surprisingly, prayed for it. I knew he had to have had something to do with my miraculous return from a lump of charbroiled flesh, but holding on was such hard work, and I did my share of mourning.
I don’t want Peter to go through that.
I’m sure there’s chaos around me, but I can’t hear it. All I see is Peter’s face, contorted into something animalistic, a mixture of rage and distress. We haven’t had very much time together, but I can already see how much he’s changed since the explosion. That rage is a constant presence in him. It makes me worry he’s going to turn into something he never wanted to be. I saw a flash of it in the hallway at Primatech, and I hope he never lets it control him; I don’t want him to be anything like me, and lord knows I have plenty of rage in me at this point.
“I love you,” I slip out. I catch a glimpse of Matt’s form, above Peter. He’s got this look on his face like he’s trying to focus on someone’s thoughts, and I wonder who’s it is he’s listening to.
I keep waiting for Peter to respond to me, tell me he loves me too, but I can’t hear him. “Peter?” I try to say, but something causes the sound to come out garbled. I can see him trying to respond to me, frantic, but I can’t hear him anymore.
We lock eyes, and I try to let every emotion I have for Peter shine through in them, everything I want to say be portrayed. I can see how upset he is in his eyes, almost the first crack in his steely exterior that I’ve seen since we reunited. I’m glad that my floppy-haired little brother’s still in this man somewhere. I’ve missed him.
I’m not ready to say goodbye. I just got him back.
**

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Good job.
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LOVE IT!!!!
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