Fic: Talk Down My Walls
Jan. 16th, 2011 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leigh57Title: Talk Down My Walls
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leigh57
Characters: Jack, Renee
Word count: 767
Summary: 8x17 AU written for Rewriting History: A commentfic meme. The prompt is "What if Renee didn't answer the phone when Chloe called in 8x17?" To that I decided to add the idea that Tokarev isn't even there, because I'm the author, dammit, and that's how I roll.
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. Suck.
A/N: Thanks tolowriseflare for beta when she didn't feel well, and to adrenalin211 for putting up with all my bitching as always and listening to me bash my head into a wall while I tried to cut this down to comment length. For those of you who prefer angst to smush, a little angst is next in the queue. Promise.
The title is taken from Brooke Fraser's "The Thief." It's such a beautiful song:)
*********************************************************
“Jack, your cell’s ringing.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let it go.”
Renee looked at the phone on the floor, torn between curiosity and the desire to relax into the pillow and wait. She heard Jack in the kitchen – water running, glasses clinking; he was moving quickly, rushing like he did through everything.
Well. Almost everything.
The ringing stopped. Her head throbbed (stress, dehydration, no food for almost a day – she didn’t know), her cheek stung, and the muscles in her thighs and shoulders ached.
Yet beneath all that, a warm sleepy hum skipped along her nerve endings and spread out over her skin.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt better.
Jack walked back into the room holding two glasses of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, incongruously shy and formal when he’d spent the last half hour with his hands and his mouth all over her – stroking, licking, teasing. (Out of breath yet laughing, thumbs on the curve of her ribs and his mouth against her neck, he’d said, You gotta stop making that noise. I can’t concentrate on anything else. She’d lifted his face and kissed him, lost for a minute before she mumbled, smiling against the distraction of his lips, Then stop doing that with your tongue.)
He held out her glass. “It’s tap. I’m sorry. I didn’t buy more bottled because-”
“Jack.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s fine. It’s-“ She stopped. “Why aren’t you drinking yours? You said you were thirsty.”
“I am. I guess I was-” He gave up that tiny smile, the one she hadn’t been able to resist since the first time she saw it (cutting through her insides, full force sucker-punch, because that first day, he hadn’t smiled once until he discovered he was dying). “Waiting for you.”
She pushed herself up and drained the glass. “There. Better?”
“Yeah.” He emptied his own glass and set it on the bedside table. He wasn’t looking at her.
“Hey,” she said. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and when the sheet slid down she didn’t grab for it. “Why don’t you take this off and get back in here with me?”
“You sure?”
“Really sure.”
“Okay.” Renee watched, quiet, as he undid the buttons. Her eyes mapped his scars, traveling from the ones he’d had so long they almost blended with his skin to the blotches of blood spreading into the bandages that covered the latest additions. Everything she needed to say (apologies, explanations, confessions) swirled and collided, fluttering moths in the back of her mind. She knew half an hour of happiness, giving because it felt good and taking because that felt good too, didn’t erase the last day, the last year, the last . . . whatever. The baggage (slice in her wrist, Vladimir, the cold fact that when she told him to pull the trigger, she’d meant it) would be waiting when she reluctantly climbed out of this bed, left the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room.
She didn’t care.
What she cared about was that Jack had slowed down, stopped moving as if someone were chasing him. He threw his pants on the floor (the casual carelessness of the gesture made her even warmer) and crawled in beside her, pushing back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean-”
She inched closer. “You didn’t? Felt like you did.” God, it was so nice to relax, have fun with him. Ridiculous, how she couldn’t stop smiling.
He grinned, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “Okay, I did. But -” He pulled back, his eyes suddenly serious. “You sounded like you thought I didn’t mean it.” He kissed her neck. “I did. Mean it.”
“I know. This day . . .”
“You wanna tell me?”
“Later. Now I want to curl up and never move.”
“Okay.” He stretched out on the bed and reached for her; she put her head on his chest (careful not to press the bandage on his stomach) and felt for his fingertips under the covers.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her hair as he began to rub her back, circular motion and rhythm so calming she was drifting within moments, sunlight and color fading as the weight of everything dragged and pulled. It was ludicrous, she thought, him saying that to her.
She forced her eyes open. “D’you need to get up? I don’t wanna fall asleep on you if . . . “
She felt the lift of his chest under her cheek. “I don’t need anything.”
Author:
leigh57Characters: Jack, Renee
Word count: 767
Summary: 8x17 AU written for Rewriting History: A commentfic meme. The prompt is "What if Renee didn't answer the phone when Chloe called in 8x17?" To that I decided to add the idea that Tokarev isn't even there, because I'm the author, dammit, and that's how I roll.
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. Suck.
A/N: Thanks to
lowriseflare for beta when she didn't feel well, and to adrenalin211 for putting up with all my bitching as always and listening to me bash my head into a wall while I tried to cut this down to comment length. For those of you who prefer angst to smush, a little angst is next in the queue. Promise.The title is taken from Brooke Fraser's "The Thief." It's such a beautiful song:)
*********************************************************
“Jack, your cell’s ringing.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let it go.”
Renee looked at the phone on the floor, torn between curiosity and the desire to relax into the pillow and wait. She heard Jack in the kitchen – water running, glasses clinking; he was moving quickly, rushing like he did through everything.
Well. Almost everything.
The ringing stopped. Her head throbbed (stress, dehydration, no food for almost a day – she didn’t know), her cheek stung, and the muscles in her thighs and shoulders ached.
Yet beneath all that, a warm sleepy hum skipped along her nerve endings and spread out over her skin.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt better.
Jack walked back into the room holding two glasses of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, incongruously shy and formal when he’d spent the last half hour with his hands and his mouth all over her – stroking, licking, teasing. (Out of breath yet laughing, thumbs on the curve of her ribs and his mouth against her neck, he’d said, You gotta stop making that noise. I can’t concentrate on anything else. She’d lifted his face and kissed him, lost for a minute before she mumbled, smiling against the distraction of his lips, Then stop doing that with your tongue.)
He held out her glass. “It’s tap. I’m sorry. I didn’t buy more bottled because-”
“Jack.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s fine. It’s-“ She stopped. “Why aren’t you drinking yours? You said you were thirsty.”
“I am. I guess I was-” He gave up that tiny smile, the one she hadn’t been able to resist since the first time she saw it (cutting through her insides, full force sucker-punch, because that first day, he hadn’t smiled once until he discovered he was dying). “Waiting for you.”
She pushed herself up and drained the glass. “There. Better?”
“Yeah.” He emptied his own glass and set it on the bedside table. He wasn’t looking at her.
“Hey,” she said. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and when the sheet slid down she didn’t grab for it. “Why don’t you take this off and get back in here with me?”
“You sure?”
“Really sure.”
“Okay.” Renee watched, quiet, as he undid the buttons. Her eyes mapped his scars, traveling from the ones he’d had so long they almost blended with his skin to the blotches of blood spreading into the bandages that covered the latest additions. Everything she needed to say (apologies, explanations, confessions) swirled and collided, fluttering moths in the back of her mind. She knew half an hour of happiness, giving because it felt good and taking because that felt good too, didn’t erase the last day, the last year, the last . . . whatever. The baggage (slice in her wrist, Vladimir, the cold fact that when she told him to pull the trigger, she’d meant it) would be waiting when she reluctantly climbed out of this bed, left the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room.
She didn’t care.
What she cared about was that Jack had slowed down, stopped moving as if someone were chasing him. He threw his pants on the floor (the casual carelessness of the gesture made her even warmer) and crawled in beside her, pushing back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean-”
She inched closer. “You didn’t? Felt like you did.” God, it was so nice to relax, have fun with him. Ridiculous, how she couldn’t stop smiling.
He grinned, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “Okay, I did. But -” He pulled back, his eyes suddenly serious. “You sounded like you thought I didn’t mean it.” He kissed her neck. “I did. Mean it.”
“I know. This day . . .”
“You wanna tell me?”
“Later. Now I want to curl up and never move.”
“Okay.” He stretched out on the bed and reached for her; she put her head on his chest (careful not to press the bandage on his stomach) and felt for his fingertips under the covers.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her hair as he began to rub her back, circular motion and rhythm so calming she was drifting within moments, sunlight and color fading as the weight of everything dragged and pulled. It was ludicrous, she thought, him saying that to her.
She forced her eyes open. “D’you need to get up? I don’t wanna fall asleep on you if . . . “
She felt the lift of his chest under her cheek. “I don’t need anything.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:16 pm (UTC)And thank you bb. I can't imagine how you put up with me when I'm shooting down 4385603658490648023 titles and trying to cut just 53 more characters because I fail at cutting anything. Thank god angsty!fic doesn't have a character limit . . .
*searches for different icon*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:17 pm (UTC)eta: And I'm really glad it makes you happy when I post. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 01:33 am (UTC)I'm really glad that there are still people who care about Renee & Jack :)
Btw, awesome fic!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 03:54 am (UTC)I still care about Renee and Jack . . . to say a lot would be an understatement. The entire thing just feels so unfinished to me.
Thank you:) I'm so glad you enjoyed reading!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:19 pm (UTC)I loved the description of Jack's scars.
So is Pavel still waiting? With the water, Renee may have to get up to pee, and then...
Nah, Pavel will get bored and leave, or get other orders. Let's leave it at that.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:32 pm (UTC)I like the universe where they stay that way forever! Okay no, they need to go back to being badass for a while;)
Glad you liked the scars bit! Somehow I can't resist talking about them when he's in a situation where he has his shirt off.
Hee, did you not read the author's notes? Pavel isn't there. I couldn't write this any other way. Thanks so much for reading!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 06:00 pm (UTC)She didn’t care.
You can mark me down as 'Awed woman'.
Loved this! If only they had let it happen in canon. Blerg.
Oh, for Pete's sake. The LJ PTB took all of my Jack/Renee icons. I'll have to fix that, but later.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 06:39 pm (UTC)Okay, but seriously, thank you! Canon . . . whatever. I'm not capable of totally ignoring it, but I am capable of writing/reading so much AU fanfic that it starts to become halfway real in my head. Because I'm crazy like that. But not crazy enough (hopefully) to follow a woman with worms for a face.
Meh on the Jack/Renee icons! Well you always know where to go if you need some . . . *dies laughing at self*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 08:26 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for this.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 09:06 pm (UTC)Oh, my god that's so flattering I don't have a clue what to say to it. Thank you so much. I love writing them like a crazy obsessive person. I keep thinking at some point I'll get over it, but so far that hasn't happened, so I'm limbering up to make myself write this huge AU if it kills me. Which it might! Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It means so much to me:)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 09:21 pm (UTC)he was moving quickly, rushing like he did through everything.
Well. Almost everything. -- Again, I love how the only reason he’s rushing is to get back to HER. I mean, how telling is that? Yet later she observes that he’s slowed down (when he's next to her with water). And I just love the way you show but don’t tell that. Meaning is packed into that subtle description.
a warm sleepy hum skipped along her nerve endings and spread out over her skin -- I WISH I WROTE THAT! I’m not sure how this is possible, but it’s almost like I can visualize it.
“(Out of breath yet laughing, thumbs on the curve of her ribs and his mouth against her neck, he’d said, You gotta stop making that noise. I can’t concentrate on anything else.)”—AHEM. Who can’t concentrate on anything else? THAT WOULD BE ME! JACK’S VOICE AND THAT DIALOGUE COMBINED. *drymouth*
(cutting through her insides, full force sucker-punch, because that first day, he hadn’t smiled once until he discovered he was dying) -- That is so JACK. And it’s so like her to remember it that way. And be that effected by his smile. Oh, god. This makes my stomach do happy dances of joy. The idea of them just smiling at each other. GAH!! *pictures it*
“You sure?”
“Really sure.” -- This dialogue is really really THEM. And I think it’s a perfect echo of the actual scene where she counters his concern by using even stronger language. (“You okay?” “Perfect”.) GAH!!! It’s so perfectly THEM.
AND BECAUSE I’M A TOOL I’M JUST GONNA GO AHEAD AND PASTE THIS: Her eyes mapped his scars, traveling from the ones he’d had so long they almost blended with his skin to the blotches of blood spreading into the bandages that covered the latest additions. Everything she needed to say (apologies, explanations, confessions) swirled and collided, fluttering moths in the back of her mind. She knew half an hour of happiness, giving because it felt good and taking because that felt good too, didn’t erase the last day, the last year, the last . . . whatever. The baggage (slice in her wrist, Vladimir, the cold fact that when she told him to pull the trigger, she’d meant it) would be waiting when she reluctantly climbed out of this bed, left the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room. -- BECAUSE IT IS HANDS-DOWN THE BEST PARAGRAPH YOU HAVE EVER WRITTEN. The description! “swirled and collided”! Moths in the back of her mind. Giving felt good and taking felt good too! Everything you say about baggage and meaning it when she said to pull the trigger. Ending it with “the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room”. Like… this whole paragraph manages to do fifty things at once. It’s worded so beautifully. You manage to capture the past, present and future all in a few sentences and combine Renee’s thoughts into them, without being too dark, without being too light, but striking an impossibly accurate balance for this specific scene and what she'd be feeling. It’s so fucking perfect. I just want to sit here and read this paragraph all fucking day.
GOD! Now she’s feeling for his fingertips under the covers and you’re melting my heart and writing things like “sunlight and color fading as the weight of everything dragged and pulled”. Honestly this whole fic makes me feels so soothed and comforted.
It was ludicrous, she thought, him saying that to her. Yeah. That might be my favorite line out of all of this. It’s so what she’d be thinking. All this time away from him, wondering. Gorgeous.
And the last bit of dialogue is INSANELY inspired. I love it to death. Him saying he doesn't need anything. Just! That is so HIM and so fitting
Thank you for writing this! I really needed to read this SO BADLY. You are my hero. &hearts
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 09:56 pm (UTC)It thrills me that the combo of awkwardness and weird openness translated. This is exactly how I see them in post sudden sex land. We caught a tiny moment of it, and it's totally how they were, but I wasn't sure I had it right at all.
As for his movement,
we'll just skip the part where I ramble for 200 years about how pretty much, everything he did in S8 for her and I could die of shippy joy if it hadn't ended in such sucktastic suckiness;)honestly? I didn't think about the fact that he'd stopped for her. He just seemed to slow down once they got into bed. Ahahaha. I am lame.Jack's voice. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Moving on.
As for the paragraph you quoted, wow I'm so glad you like it that much. It's one of those things where I wind up glad I waited a bit and screwed around with wording when I could have left it, because even though of course I never wind up loving things I write, I do think I got closer to the original idea of what I was trying to do there.
I love him to death, too. Oh, augh, oh my gods, DO I EVER? Yes.
THANK YOU. Now on to angsty message fic. If I can uh, figure out the other messages! <3
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 09:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 05:41 pm (UTC)I love the line about Jack apologizing for not having any bottled water..reminds me of one of the things I like about Jack so much is that for a badass uber-hero he has that underlying layer of good old down-to-earth humility. There's something awesome about a dude who can take out a Spetznaz team with a rusty paper clip then doing this whole "holy shit, I just had sex. With Renee. I and my tap water are unworthy..."
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 07:45 pm (UTC)"holy shit, I just had sex. With Renee. I and my tap water are unworthy..."
Why are you so hilarious? I laughed out LOUD when I read that. But yeah, that's pretty much what I was getting at. I'm with you -- Jack can be so fucking badass, but he's a goddamn marshmallow under certain circumstances. He's 100% the opposite of an entitled human being, so when people do nice things for (or with -- heh) him, often I don't think he quite knows how to act.
Thanks for the comments!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 08:01 pm (UTC)It's somewhat made it into the broader gamer culture lexicon, you can see it on forums sometimes as a sarcastic way of saying you wish for something currently unattainable.
And you're very welcome, and thank YOU for still writing Jack and Renee alive and enjoying themselves.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 07:47 pm (UTC)Well, I have to take creative liberties when I need a character moment, right? I'm sure NYC tap water is just fine. I do laugh though, because the tap water in the village here takes completely fine to me, but the kids HATE it. They're used to the well.
Nookular rods. That's absolutely what it was.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 07:05 pm (UTC)I can't say more right now, I'm supposed to be cleaning as we speak (way to waste a day off, huh?), but I read this and even though I may have a *slight* thing for angst, I find this to be wonderful. Complete. Lovely. :) XD ♥
Yay. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 07:49 pm (UTC)But anyway, thank you so much! I'm glad that even though there was very little angst in here, the story still worked for you. I guess it was inevitable that at some point I would write this particular AU. The hilarious part was getting it down to the character limit that fits in commentfic. Hee.
Thank you! Good luck with cleaning:)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 11:15 pm (UTC)Also, while reading this, I missed the part about you ignoring the sniper and making him go poof, so at the end, I had this mental image of him sitting at the window, dying of boredom. You know, hours of having him pace around the room waiting, throwing pencils at the ceiling, doing a rubix cube, flipping through the newspaper, sitting in unusual positions in his chair- you know, regular stakeout stuff that he wouldn't be expecting to do because he didn't anticipate having to wait for Renee and Jack to sleep it off. And that's not taking into account if they go for round 2 when they wake up, which in my head happens, and then Tokarev groans because he's all, REALLY? AGAIN? GEEZ. I'M SO HUNGRY, I WANT A SANDWICH. CAN THEY PLEASE GET OUT OF THE ROOM ALREADY?
And of course, he misses the one time Renee steps out of the room because he finally couldn't hold it anymore and went to the bathroom only to catch a glimpse of her slipping back into the room when he got back.
I don't know why, but suddenly it all turned into a comedy in my head. LOL.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 01:27 am (UTC)*snorffles more*
The mental picture you create for me here is so fabulous that I kind of want to watch it filmed, not only what I wrote, but exactly what you just wrote about Tokarev. I'm falling out thinking about him groaning when they get busy again (because duh, of course they're going for round two after their nap!) and then missing the one time she leaves the room because he has to pee like Mulder in "Arcadia." Hee! You are too frakking funny. (I just say 'frakking' all the time now, because I watch too much BSG like that.)
24 could use a
metric fucktonlittle more comedy. But yes, I did have to get him out of the picture in order to be able to write this at all, so that's how it worked in my head anyway;)I'm glad you loved it! I'm practicing Katie's advice, wherein I sit down and do nothing (no email, LJ, wtfever) but stare at the cursor for twenty minutes every day. It's amazing how writing always comes from this, because it turns out blinking cursors are really boring.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 10:32 am (UTC)Onto the actual feedback:
1) I love the flirting. It's so perfectly light and a nice counterpoint to the heavy undercurrent regarding the insanity of the day that is evident in the story. It's a wonderful way of showing rather than telling how good these two are at deflection.
2) I love the way you write Jack. The altruism, the way he thinks about her and treats her in a way that is caring without being patronizing. Instead it comes across as bashful and endearing.
3) As usual, you nail the physical details. I don't know what exactly it is about it, but when I read your scenes, it really feels like I am transported there and I can see it in my head. You do a wonderful job using the parentheses to give the sense of flashes of memories/intense emotion and it's funny how something as simple as that can be so effective.
Finally I have to give you snaps for a) writing again and b) continuing to explore AUs and exploring these characters. I know how much you struggle with it, and hey, if Katie's advice works, then stick to it. I look forward to your London AU. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 09:41 pm (UTC)1. I'm glad you liked the flirting! I kinda struggled with balanced in this fic, because I wanted it to feel like a genuine break, but I also didn't want to write as if they were tiptoeing through the tulips and I was discounting the massive sucktasm everybody had just been through. But yeah, they're the masters of deflection, so hee.
2. A true story. I'm still terrified to write Jack. I see him in such a specific way and in my head it's all supported by canon, but people have such different ways of reading the character, so. I never get over how hilariously adorable Jack is with women he loves.
3. Just, squee! Augh, that's one of the highest compliments ever, because to me that means I might have succeeded a little and moar squee.
Thank you for the kickass comments:) London is going to happen. I have to switch gears, because what I was doing isn't working for me at all, so I'm starting all over (don't worry -- not throwing the old stuff out). That's fine with me -- I never thought this would be easy. I figure I just have to get it done before a certain important date, because after that you'll never have beta time again!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:29 am (UTC)I've started to watch season eight again (cause I love torturing myself, and I stopped watching after Renee died so I wanna fill in the blanks) and this shows up on my friends page.
Lovely fic. I want to curl up with it and never leave my bed. Perfect. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 01:34 pm (UTC)Anyway, I'm so happy you like the fic. Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:49 pm (UTC)(cutting through her insides, full force sucker-punch, because that first day, he hadn’t smiled once until he discovered he was dying), "fluttering moths in the back of her mind," how he's stopped moving as if someone is chasing him.
Also, I think this is the bit that a lot of people have been pulling out, but: The baggage (slice in her wrist, Vladimir, the cold fact that when she told him to pull the trigger, she’d meant it) would be waiting when she reluctantly climbed out of this bed, left the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room is really, really great. I love how you've given them, like, this small, sweet reprieve. Like they get to hide out for a little while and take a break. I'm glad they get to have that.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 09:46 pm (UTC)That is one of the coolest compliments I've ever received. I think again, if it works at all it's just my psycho love bleeding onto the page. I have a lot of psycho love, a fact of which you're well aware;)
I was just saying to
no subject
Date: 2011-01-24 05:37 am (UTC)I love that “a warm sleepy hum skipped along her nerve endings and spread out over her skin” and “she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt better.” <3
He sat on the edge of the bed, incongruously shy and formal when he’d spent the last half hour with his hands and his mouth all over her – stroking, licking, teasing. Holy fuckcakes. Just. GUHHHHH. *is dead from hotness overload*
Jack apologizing for the fact that it’s tap water and not bottled water, him waiting for Renee to drink her water before drinking his, his fucking adorable tiny smile…all of this is so completely HIM and I just love him so fucking much.
Everything she needed to say (apologies, explanations, confessions) swirled and collided, fluttering moths in the back of her mind. I teared up reading this line because it’s written so beautifully. Seriously, the things you’re able to do with words make me feel a million feelings all at once.
And then this: She knew half an hour of happiness, giving because it felt good and taking because that felt good too, didn’t erase the last day, the last year, the last . . . whatever. The baggage (slice in her wrist, Vladimir, the cold fact that when she told him to pull the trigger, she’d meant it) would be waiting when she reluctantly climbed out of this bed, left the comforting shell of this warm sunlit room. I love this so much, because even though Renee KNOWS that all the things that have happened to her aren’t just going to go away, at the moment none of that matters because she has Jack and they’re together and right now that’s all either of them need to focus on.
What she cared about was that Jack had slowed down, stopped moving as if someone were chasing him. This makes me so happy because Jack’s spent so much of his life in situations where he has to (as you mentioned at the beginning of this) move quickly/rush through everything/run away and the fact that he finally gets the opportunity to just slow down and be with Renee and be happy is just the best.
Jack resting his forehead on Renee’s shoulder and kissing her neck and then Renee putting her head on his chest and Jack rubbing her back = SQUEE.
“sunlight and color fading as the weight of everything dragged and pulled” – Again, your phrasing is just fantastic.
And the ending, with Renee forcing herself to keep her eyes open and making sure Jack can get up if he needs to, and then Jack saying he doesn’t need anything…I can picture that SO clearly, and you did such a wonderful job of creating an overall mood of serenity and safety and happiness.
Thank you so, so much for writing this and for letting this scene happen the way it should have happened on the show. <3
no subject
Date: 2011-01-29 01:43 pm (UTC)I'm just squeeing that you think it's Jack, because that's always the biggest concern I have -- letting these characters be who they are, just in situations we don't get to see them in (unfortunately).
because even though Renee KNOWS that all the things that have happened to her aren’t just going to go away, at the moment none of that matters because she has Jack and they’re together and right now that’s all either of them need to focus on.
I'm thrilled that this translated into words, because it's exactly what I was working for. When I first wrote the ficlet, it felt off, because it was as if I was trying to ignore the terribleness of the surrounding circumstances. I wanted to shake it up and make sure I wasn't doing that, but still within the framework of the fact that I think Renee would be really happy in the moment.
Cinna, your comments. You don't even know how they make me smile so much that I must look like a gigantic goof. Thanks for writing such a perfect prompt. I'm happy I found it and that you liked the tiny story that resulted:)
no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 12:04 am (UTC)alskdfjasldkfjasl;fkjasdl;kfa
HE WAITS FOR HER TO DRINK HER WATER BEFORE HE DRINKS HIS.
And then at the end he says "I don't need anything."
My heart. This never stops bringing a smile to my face. he's petting her shoulder and kissing her neck and they're getting a chance to snuggle in afterglow. You are my favorite person ever.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 02:28 am (UTC):-)
Basically, they should snuggle in bed forever, the end. But thank you for being so ridiculously sweet about my journeys into epic smushland. xoxo *matches icon*