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Sep. 18th, 2012 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I miss writing fanfic, but I don't have the mental focus for a full-on story. So... it's meme time. You give me the summary of a story I never wrote, and I'll give you a snippet from that story. So, let's see what you can throw at me. I can write in Buffy, Sentinel, Firefly, SG1, NCIS, or SPN.
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Date: 2012-11-01 05:10 am (UTC)Despite that, Blair tried to swallow every grief. He sat at the bottom of a cold shower and tried to hide his pain.
Jim let his head thump back against the wall. He couldn't do anything until Blair let him in, but sitting in the hall and listening to his best friend suffer... this was hell.
A series of bangs made Jim suspect that Blair was pounding on the wall. He had a right. If Blair wouldn't let Jim in to help, maybe pounding on the bathroom walls was as close as he could get to cathartic.
Eventually the water did turn off, and Jim stood up and headed for the kitchen. Hovering was guaranteed to drive Blair into a flurry of lectures on personal space and everyone having their own way of grieving.
After a lifetime of grieving, Jim understood that. He'd grieved a mother who hadn't loved him enough to deal with her own hatred for Jim's father. He'd grieved lovers and brothers-in-arms. He'd grieved for Jimmy Choi. He'd held younger servicemen as they endured their pain and loss. He'd sat with the wives and families of injured men. As an officer, he'd suffered for every loss that touched on his company.
But oddly, it was the people he'd loved most that never let him close enough to grieve with them. The wife of a sergeant in his unit would cling to him and cry as he sat in his BDUs after a training accident. The girlfriend of a fallen police officer would take his hand on her shoulder as an invitation and turn and bury her face in his neck and scream at the injustice in the world.
However, let Caro miscarry for the second time, and she turned cold...told him it didn't matter. Let Blair get his heart broken by the death of his mother, and the man hid in the bathroom. There was a special pain to never being enough--never knowing how to help the people you wanted to help the most.
The bathroom door opened with a click, and Jim stood in the middle of the kitchen, not sure what to grab in order to look like he hadn't been hovering. He still stood, indecisive and searching for some sort of prop when Blair came into sight.
His hair hung in wet clumps, his sleeping pants clung to his damn body, and his eyes were dark wells of pain that made Jim's heart ache in sympathy.
Blair took a step closer, and then another, and for a second, Jim was confused, unsure whether Blair was truly moving toward him rather than moving toward the sink for water, or hell, maybe toward the refrigerator so he could make a souffle. With Blair, who the hell could predict his logic.
But then Blair moved right in front of him. Jim opened his arms, and Blair threw himself forward, his arms clinging tightly while a flood of tears slipped free.
"Oh, Chief." Jim rested his cheek against the top of Blair's head and rocked him gently, Jim's arms holding him tight. Blair didn't answer. He cried. And Jim held him close.
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Date: 2012-11-01 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-04 12:27 am (UTC)Sentinel snippet
Date: 2012-11-03 06:38 am (UTC)Re: Sentinel snippet
Date: 2012-11-04 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 07:54 am (UTC)Your words always touching me somewhere inside me.
Thank you.
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Date: 2012-11-04 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-04 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 03:16 pm (UTC)You do characters like nobody else, I mean it, you get into their heads and are so perfectly them, it's just fantastic!
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Date: 2012-11-04 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-18 08:02 pm (UTC)