Loss (Act II), Part Eighteen




Writing is a funny thing.  This part needed something and I could not figure out where, how, or why.  @kalendraashtar stepped in, gave this a close, critical read, and then gave me her thoughts. Her help let me fall in love with how this ended up.  @sassenachwaffles and @kkruml as usual did some magic to help me fill in blanks and make sense of bits that were jumbled.  Without their encouragement I would have walked away from this in the last few weeks.

The light shining at the end of the tunnel for these two is so bright. And it makes me want to squee/hug perfect strangers.  

Loss: Act I and ficlets

Loss: Act II: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight| Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen |  Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen

Loss (Act II)
Part Eighteen

In another life (with my formerly hot head and a heart that was wholly my own), I would have screamed at him.  Beat at the doors of his chest until his flesh opened and his sternum cracked apart to unsheathe his heart.

That heart.

Pulsating and glistening, surrounded by the jagged teeth of his exposed ribs.  In another circumstance (his cold feet), I would have laid myself bare to him, kissed his cheeks and his mouth.  Begged for him to come back to me, to come back to my plan, our plan.  

In a parallel universe, I did those things.

In this one –– the buzz of air conditioning pushing cold air into the bungalow my world that was again hanging in the balance–– I just stood at the doorway.

How had distance become our master?

In our years together, Jamie had rarely been guarded.  His walls went up only in two narrow circumstances.  First, if we were arguing, and the prospect of letting me in was a concession he was unprepared to make. Second, if he thought he was protecting me from something.

But if eyes were windows to his soul, he could make the panes fog up on demand.  I could stare at him (the person I knew best in the world, the person before whom I had long been emotionally and physically naked), and see nothing. His face would remain controlled and impassive until he willed it otherwise.

I reached for him, to help him sit back down.


The distance had shaken its head, told me ‘no,’ and wagged its finger.  

My hand fell.  I had been silly to think that in this moment, when we were both hurting, that he would want to be cared for.

Continuar a ler

I can’t tell you what a joy and privilege it was to help you in some way to reach the vision you had for this chapter. And what a glorious chapter it is. I love these two people who will go to absolute war for/with each other. I feel both their pain and fear so very deeply (I get both their reasons) and I’m in constant awe of how lived in they are. 


This story is so real, so in touch with the painful realities of life. Well done @missclairebelle!

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