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tamingthemuseTitle: Rock Me Slowly
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blue_icy_rose
Rating: R overall (this is just a part of it)
Word Count: 1,040
Warnings: AU, references to past character death in this part
Summary: For this part? Let's just say that Kris doesn't have very pleasant dreams.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story. They belong to themselves.
Notes: I figured I'd put the prompt somewhere in my big bang fic and then just post that section this week - what happened was that the prompt was used as a theme but I didn't fit the exact wording in. Ah well, I got it finished at least so I'm happy about that. :D
Kris hated this place. He looked around the neighborhood and scowled before he turned to look at the house. There was a tricycle on the porch, bright red and with only one scrape on the side. Swallowing, he watched as a car pulled up to the curb. He shook his head, watching the little boy scramble out of the car and wait for the woman to get out as well.
“Don’t go in,” he said. The little boy looked up and Kris stared down into his own face when he’d been four.
“I have to.”
Kris closed his eyes and followed the boy and woman inside. He knew what was coming but a part of him hoped that it would have changed.
Every single time, he hoped that it had changed. It never worked.
There was no answer when the woman knocked on the door and Kris watched as he simply reached out and turned the knob, running inside.
“Momma, I’m home!”
“Kim?” the woman called. “Kim, it’s Lisa, I brought Kris home.”
Kris knew what was coming next. Shaking slightly and hating himself for it, Kris followed himself into the living room and watched as he stopped and stared at his mother’s body on the floor.
“Momma?” The younger Kris ran over and shook her shoulder. “Momma, wake up.” He looked over and Kris followed his gaze, taking in the way his father’s body was laid out, as if he’d been trying to protect his mother. He looked down at the younger version of himself, his stomach churning. “Momma, why won’t you wake up?”
“She had to go away,” Kris said softly.
He looked up at Kris. “I don’t want her to go away. She was going to give me a baby brother. Where’s he?”
“He had to go away too.”
“Daddy will wake them up.” He stood and moved further into the room and Kris wanted to grab him and stop him from looking. Instead, Kris watched and wished that this would stop as he reached out and pushed at his dad’s body until he turned over.
Red, dark red, stained the front of his shirt from where it had flowed out of his throat. Vaguely, Kris registered the woman walking in to the room and screaming, grabbing him and pulling him away as he sobbed and screamed, insisted he could wake Daddy up.
“Always were a spoiled little shit, weren’t you?”
Kris choked on nothing but air and turned around to see his dad shifting and sitting up. “You’re dead. You’re not real.”
The laugh that his dad let out was wet and gurgled and Kris felt like he was going to scream and throw up all at the same time. “You really think that makes a difference? I’m not really dead, son.” His lips twisted. “You know you should have been here with us but you just had to go to that birthday party.”
“Selfish,” his mother added, moving and pushing herself up. “You were so selfish, Kristopher. If you hadn’t begged to go, you’d be with us. The family would still be together.”
“Momma—“
“You left behind your little brother. He never even had a chance, Kristopher. If you’d stayed, maybe you could play with him.”
“I was four. I was four, what was I supposed to do?”
“That’s no excuse,” his dad said, dragging himself so that he was standing. “No excuse at all, young man.” He walked closer and Kris took a step back, wondering how the hell he could get out of this. He watched as his mother heaved herself to her feet, his father taking the time to make sure she was standing on her own, and it was all so normal that Kris could scream.
“You can still join us, Kristopher. You’re just running a little late, that’s all.”
“No, I can’t. I have a life that I have to go back to.”
“Running around and pretending to be a cop?”
Kris swallowed at the sound of his dad’s voice. He’d never seen his dad look like that. “I am a cop.”
“You think you are but you’re not. You don’t do any good.”
“I help people.” Kris wondered if that desperation in his voice was obvious or if he was just imagining it.
“You couldn’t help us.”
“How could I? I was—“
“Four, so you’ve said. That doesn’t matter.”
“Daddy—“
“You couldn’t help him either, Kristopher,” his mother interrupted. She nodded at something behind him and Kris slowly turned to see what she was nodding at. He let out a breath at the sight of Tim, the young boy that he hadn’t been able to save.
“You let him die. You knew that his dad was ready to snap but you just kept pushing. It’s what you do, isn’t it, Kristopher?”
“I think it’s time you learned your lesson.”
Kris’s eyes widened when he felt a hand grip the back of his neck tightly and he felt the old, familiar panic well up inside him as he opened his mouth to shout—
Kris’s eyes flew open and he jerked up, shoving at the covers as he frantically sucked in a breath. He practically fell out of the bed, swearing when the sheets tangled around his legs, causing him to stumble.
“Lights,” he muttered, slapping at the light switch and squinting as the room was flooded with light. His breath slowing slightly, he went into the bathroom and turned the cold water on, letting it run for a few seconds before splashing his face. The cold helped wake him up completely and he took a deep breath, looking in the mirror to watch the way the water ran down his face and dripped on to the counter. He shook his head and closed his eyes, pushing away the nausea that always came with the nightmare.
“Just a dream,” he told himself, making sure to keep his voice steady. “Just a dream.”
He took a deep breath and then turned the shower on, twisting the handle to make the water as hot as he could handle it.
He wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon, after all, he might as well get a start on the day.
Author:
blue_icy_roseRating: R overall (this is just a part of it)
Word Count: 1,040
Warnings: AU, references to past character death in this part
Summary: For this part? Let's just say that Kris doesn't have very pleasant dreams.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story. They belong to themselves.
Notes: I figured I'd put the prompt somewhere in my big bang fic and then just post that section this week - what happened was that the prompt was used as a theme but I didn't fit the exact wording in. Ah well, I got it finished at least so I'm happy about that. :D
Kris hated this place. He looked around the neighborhood and scowled before he turned to look at the house. There was a tricycle on the porch, bright red and with only one scrape on the side. Swallowing, he watched as a car pulled up to the curb. He shook his head, watching the little boy scramble out of the car and wait for the woman to get out as well.
“Don’t go in,” he said. The little boy looked up and Kris stared down into his own face when he’d been four.
“I have to.”
Kris closed his eyes and followed the boy and woman inside. He knew what was coming but a part of him hoped that it would have changed.
Every single time, he hoped that it had changed. It never worked.
There was no answer when the woman knocked on the door and Kris watched as he simply reached out and turned the knob, running inside.
“Momma, I’m home!”
“Kim?” the woman called. “Kim, it’s Lisa, I brought Kris home.”
Kris knew what was coming next. Shaking slightly and hating himself for it, Kris followed himself into the living room and watched as he stopped and stared at his mother’s body on the floor.
“Momma?” The younger Kris ran over and shook her shoulder. “Momma, wake up.” He looked over and Kris followed his gaze, taking in the way his father’s body was laid out, as if he’d been trying to protect his mother. He looked down at the younger version of himself, his stomach churning. “Momma, why won’t you wake up?”
“She had to go away,” Kris said softly.
He looked up at Kris. “I don’t want her to go away. She was going to give me a baby brother. Where’s he?”
“He had to go away too.”
“Daddy will wake them up.” He stood and moved further into the room and Kris wanted to grab him and stop him from looking. Instead, Kris watched and wished that this would stop as he reached out and pushed at his dad’s body until he turned over.
Red, dark red, stained the front of his shirt from where it had flowed out of his throat. Vaguely, Kris registered the woman walking in to the room and screaming, grabbing him and pulling him away as he sobbed and screamed, insisted he could wake Daddy up.
“Always were a spoiled little shit, weren’t you?”
Kris choked on nothing but air and turned around to see his dad shifting and sitting up. “You’re dead. You’re not real.”
The laugh that his dad let out was wet and gurgled and Kris felt like he was going to scream and throw up all at the same time. “You really think that makes a difference? I’m not really dead, son.” His lips twisted. “You know you should have been here with us but you just had to go to that birthday party.”
“Selfish,” his mother added, moving and pushing herself up. “You were so selfish, Kristopher. If you hadn’t begged to go, you’d be with us. The family would still be together.”
“Momma—“
“You left behind your little brother. He never even had a chance, Kristopher. If you’d stayed, maybe you could play with him.”
“I was four. I was four, what was I supposed to do?”
“That’s no excuse,” his dad said, dragging himself so that he was standing. “No excuse at all, young man.” He walked closer and Kris took a step back, wondering how the hell he could get out of this. He watched as his mother heaved herself to her feet, his father taking the time to make sure she was standing on her own, and it was all so normal that Kris could scream.
“You can still join us, Kristopher. You’re just running a little late, that’s all.”
“No, I can’t. I have a life that I have to go back to.”
“Running around and pretending to be a cop?”
Kris swallowed at the sound of his dad’s voice. He’d never seen his dad look like that. “I am a cop.”
“You think you are but you’re not. You don’t do any good.”
“I help people.” Kris wondered if that desperation in his voice was obvious or if he was just imagining it.
“You couldn’t help us.”
“How could I? I was—“
“Four, so you’ve said. That doesn’t matter.”
“Daddy—“
“You couldn’t help him either, Kristopher,” his mother interrupted. She nodded at something behind him and Kris slowly turned to see what she was nodding at. He let out a breath at the sight of Tim, the young boy that he hadn’t been able to save.
“You let him die. You knew that his dad was ready to snap but you just kept pushing. It’s what you do, isn’t it, Kristopher?”
“I think it’s time you learned your lesson.”
Kris’s eyes widened when he felt a hand grip the back of his neck tightly and he felt the old, familiar panic well up inside him as he opened his mouth to shout—
Kris’s eyes flew open and he jerked up, shoving at the covers as he frantically sucked in a breath. He practically fell out of the bed, swearing when the sheets tangled around his legs, causing him to stumble.
“Lights,” he muttered, slapping at the light switch and squinting as the room was flooded with light. His breath slowing slightly, he went into the bathroom and turned the cold water on, letting it run for a few seconds before splashing his face. The cold helped wake him up completely and he took a deep breath, looking in the mirror to watch the way the water ran down his face and dripped on to the counter. He shook his head and closed his eyes, pushing away the nausea that always came with the nightmare.
“Just a dream,” he told himself, making sure to keep his voice steady. “Just a dream.”
He took a deep breath and then turned the shower on, twisting the handle to make the water as hot as he could handle it.
He wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon, after all, he might as well get a start on the day.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 04:28 pm (UTC)