the curtains flew, then he appeared
Oct. 29th, 2010 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The metal of the gun which he gripped in his hands was cool, though it wouldn't remain that way for long. Firearms were a necessary evil. If a man was lucky, he wouldn't ever have to pull the trigger on anyone, would live a full life without knowing how gunpowder smelled or the way that a gun came to life after a shot fired, surface hot to the touch. It wasn't the type of weapon that one could use with their eyes closed, too much kick back, like it was telling the user to remember very well what he or she was doing right then. But he didn't need that reminder. No, even as his mind reeled in circles and his breath held the heavy scent of whiskey on the tip of his tongue, he knew the weight of the gun in his hand, felt his feet drag as he slowly carried himself up that staircase.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn that he heard her speaking in hushed tones to someone. With that, he thought ruefully, it was like she was sealing her own death sentence. Not that he minded when she talked to other people. He wasn't that kind of possessive, fingers weaving through endless curls of hair, no. But he was a man, and she was his wife, and so there were certain things that any decent wife wasn't supposed to do. Maybe he could have forgiven her for transgressions, admitted that he could have been a better husband, better father, and a better man, but she had signed away all that they had to their name.
There was nothing left to build from.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn that he heard her speaking in hushed tones to someone. With that, he thought ruefully, it was like she was sealing her own death sentence. Not that he minded when she talked to other people. He wasn't that kind of possessive, fingers weaving through endless curls of hair, no. But he was a man, and she was his wife, and so there were certain things that any decent wife wasn't supposed to do. Maybe he could have forgiven her for transgressions, admitted that he could have been a better husband, better father, and a better man, but she had signed away all that they had to their name.
There was nothing left to build from.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-13 03:00 am (UTC)She saw Sawyer making his way to her, and as he grabbed her hand she took a final deadly swing at a Reaver about to catch hold of them before she ran, pulled along by Sawyer. All they had to do was get out of the cloud, and then it would all be over.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-14 05:46 pm (UTC)Bang, one hit.
Bang, another.
But the more disconcerting part came in when they fell to the ground, suddenly all wearing that pudgy face Sawyer had come to know months ago, the guy who had the misfortune of being the subject of a con run on Sawyer himself. It was enough to drain the color from Sawyer's face again, because while he'd killed a man without regret, that man was not this one. Was not an innocent.
Fortunately, before too long, he found himself in the dark again, staring at a retreating cloud of fog as his hand was still tightly wrapped around Helen's wrist.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-15 05:33 am (UTC)She twisted to look back as the gunshots rang out, and it didn't make a lick of sense for the falling Reavers to suddenly become someone else, someone unfamiliar, but there wasn't time to puzzle it out. She swung around, still moving but slowing down, and used her free hand to hurl the axe with all her might at one of the ones still running, still Reavers.
She flipped back forward, barely noticing that the axe had found its intended target, and as they put on a burst of speed they were suddenly out of the cloud. Saffron skidded to a halt, not making any move to let go of Sawyer, and followed his gaze as the fog moved away from them. "Wǒde mā," she breathed, panting.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-16 04:30 am (UTC)The Reavers, they had been... well, it would have been a lie to say that they weren't something, terrifying even by the toughest of standards, but Sawyer didn't get so scared by threats like that anymore. What scared him were things like the wrenching guilt and despair that ripped through every last part of his heart, matters he didn't know how to address.
When he finally could move again, it was a stumble in no direction in particular. He hadn't memorized the layout of the island yet, and certainly had greater trouble of the dark. Had always been lousy at tracking. But he wandered off in some direction, because it was better than standing and waiting all over again.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-16 06:00 am (UTC)At least she wasn't going to have any more nightmares about Halloween three years ago. No, now she was going to have nightmares about this Halloween.
She wanted to talk to Sawyer about his part in the ordeal, about what he'd seen, and not just because he'd rutting shot her. Not just because she was curious about how forthcoming he would be, either. That needed to wait, though. Unless for some reason he felt inclined to spill his guts right then and there, that was a talk best had after at least an attempt at a good night's sleep.
"Don't wander off and get lost now," she called after him, and her voice was light, but she meant it; she didn't want him going anywhere. She didn't want him leaving her alone there. She also didn't know if he would listen to her.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-17 06:21 am (UTC)He didn't want to be interesting to anyone for that simple reason alone, not anymore.
"If you're so worried about me gettin' lost, come the hell along," he bit out, not angry so much as frustrated, and underneath it all, hurt. Self-loathing. Nothing out of the ordinary. "But don't act like that didn't just... happen."
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-17 06:44 am (UTC)"I'm not acting like it didn't happen, Sawyer," she repeated, and she sounded tired. "I just didn't think you'd want to get into it. But hell, if you want to explain to me what I just saw, I'm all ears."
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-21 01:59 am (UTC)His jaw was grit as he looked forward, rubbing at the stubble on his face. "Do I drop you off at your hut? You got people around there?"
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-21 05:36 am (UTC)She took a slow breath as they walked along, and while she didn't want to be alone it seemed clear Sawyer didn't have the same line of thinking. It didn't seem like him dropping her off at her hut was going to end in anything but her being alone, and normally her lack of nearby neighbors was a good thing...just not right now.
"No, I reckon I'll go back to the party," she replied. "It's like to still be going, and I'm sure there'll be folks I know there." The one she really wanted to see was Xander, but he hadn't been at the party earlier, and she didn't want to bug him at home, not tonight.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-24 06:21 am (UTC)"Party sounds like a good idea," Sawyer murmured softly, distracted, although a large part of him realized that there was no way he could be expected to attend the party and find any similar amount of comfort in it. They wanted the opposite of one another right then, and maybe that was fine. The world needed people of all types. "I'll drop you there, keep the Reavers from gettin' back again. 'Least they're a nightmare you can share, I guess."
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-24 06:41 am (UTC)"I'd appreciate it," Saffron said, "and you know where to find me if you change your mind about talking." She didn't think he would, but she threw the offer out all the same, so he'd know it was there.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-26 06:33 am (UTC)He just felt broken. Maybe what he needed more than anything else was someone to sit him down and force him to deal. Not to let him fall back to bad habits that were resurfacing more than they had in months now, the impulses that told him to run and not look back. His jaw grew taut, refusing to let him speak, taking a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah I know where to find you," he said quietly with a careful nod, walking the both of them toward the Compound, wishing that he had a positive way of venting his frustrations.