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Yes, I am still getting through these. I promise to finish them all... only a couple to go now...
Title: "Missing in the Silence"
Pic from:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
macgyvergal
Rating: PG
Category: Gen(ish... I had trouble categorising but there is no blatant ship)
Summary: It kills him to say, “That’s not my problem.”
Carter.
Carter.
She won’t look up until he says, “Sam,” and then her blue eyes swivel, like she was waiting all her life. Her mouth is a firm line and her eyes are darker that he remembers, but he guesses that’s probably from the black circles underneath.
“What are you doing here?”
She looks puzzled, like that was the question she wasn’t expecting. Like she’d been all prepared for other awkwardness but not him actually wanting to know why she was there.
She hesitates, one foot hovering over his stoop, not committed enough yet to actually put it down. It’s weird the way she is balanced, like she’s frozen and he supposes she is.
“It’s been… I just thought-“
“Come to celebrate?” he asks and knows it’s unfair as soon as it’s out but he can’t take it back.
There’s no way to take it back.
“I just thought…” she starts again, her face resolute, but she trails off, looking lost and he knows he has derailed her by interrupting with his callous remark. He rubs a hand up the side of his cheek, the rasp of stubble loud in his ears but not loud enough to drown out the ragged breathing he always hears in his mind, a little liquid because there was blood on the lungs and a little nasal because…
Because…
“What are you doing here, Sam?” he asks again.
“You know, I’m really not sure anymore,” she brings the hovering foot back down to the ground and pulls her hand off the railing on the steps leading up to his wrap-around porch. “I keep asking myself that and I never come up with an answer.” She taps a fist against the outside of her thigh and from her expression it looks like she might even be frustrated, but he can’t tell if it’s with him or herself.
“I guess it just became a habit, to come up here every couple of months so I could say that I tried, you know? I tried to get you to come back, I tried to get you to believe it wasn’t your fault. I just…tried.”
“You know the answer to those things,” he says mildly, almost apologetically.
“I know because you never change. You’re still the same stubborn son of a bitch you always have been.”
He deserves that, knows full well he deserves it, but he still says,”Hey!”
“I miss him too,” she says, voice quiet, and this is something new. She hasn’t tried this before. It almost works; he almost takes a step towards her. At the last moment he feels a cool breeze touch the back of his neck and he clenches his fists, staying where he is.
It kills him to say, “That’s not my problem.”
When she’s gone and he can’t even hear the low buzz of her car on the wind and the dust eddies kicked up from her spinning tyres have settled back to stillness once more, he half turns and sees a familiar figure in the doorway.
A shadowed silhouette that will disappear if he turns all the way around.
“You should visit her. Maybe then she’d understand,” he says, knowing that like always, he’ll get no response because there really isn’t anyone there.
Cool fingers trail down his spine and he sighs.
No one there at all.
Title: "Missing in the Silence"Pic from:
macgyvergalRating: PG
Category: Gen(ish... I had trouble categorising but there is no blatant ship)
Summary: It kills him to say, “That’s not my problem.”
Carter.
Carter.
She won’t look up until he says, “Sam,” and then her blue eyes swivel, like she was waiting all her life. Her mouth is a firm line and her eyes are darker that he remembers, but he guesses that’s probably from the black circles underneath.
“What are you doing here?”
She looks puzzled, like that was the question she wasn’t expecting. Like she’d been all prepared for other awkwardness but not him actually wanting to know why she was there.
She hesitates, one foot hovering over his stoop, not committed enough yet to actually put it down. It’s weird the way she is balanced, like she’s frozen and he supposes she is.
“It’s been… I just thought-“
“Come to celebrate?” he asks and knows it’s unfair as soon as it’s out but he can’t take it back.
There’s no way to take it back.
“I just thought…” she starts again, her face resolute, but she trails off, looking lost and he knows he has derailed her by interrupting with his callous remark. He rubs a hand up the side of his cheek, the rasp of stubble loud in his ears but not loud enough to drown out the ragged breathing he always hears in his mind, a little liquid because there was blood on the lungs and a little nasal because…
Because…
“What are you doing here, Sam?” he asks again.
“You know, I’m really not sure anymore,” she brings the hovering foot back down to the ground and pulls her hand off the railing on the steps leading up to his wrap-around porch. “I keep asking myself that and I never come up with an answer.” She taps a fist against the outside of her thigh and from her expression it looks like she might even be frustrated, but he can’t tell if it’s with him or herself.
“I guess it just became a habit, to come up here every couple of months so I could say that I tried, you know? I tried to get you to come back, I tried to get you to believe it wasn’t your fault. I just…tried.”
“You know the answer to those things,” he says mildly, almost apologetically.
“I know because you never change. You’re still the same stubborn son of a bitch you always have been.”
He deserves that, knows full well he deserves it, but he still says,”Hey!”
“I miss him too,” she says, voice quiet, and this is something new. She hasn’t tried this before. It almost works; he almost takes a step towards her. At the last moment he feels a cool breeze touch the back of his neck and he clenches his fists, staying where he is.
It kills him to say, “That’s not my problem.”
When she’s gone and he can’t even hear the low buzz of her car on the wind and the dust eddies kicked up from her spinning tyres have settled back to stillness once more, he half turns and sees a familiar figure in the doorway.
A shadowed silhouette that will disappear if he turns all the way around.
“You should visit her. Maybe then she’d understand,” he says, knowing that like always, he’ll get no response because there really isn’t anyone there.
Cool fingers trail down his spine and he sighs.
No one there at all.
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