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tamingthemuseTitle: "We've won"
Fandom: Original (Immortals)
Prompt: Prompt 422 - Pyrrhic victory
Warnings: N/A.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Jeroen was sitting on the edge of the tallest structure in Chicago. The wind was rustling his usually impeccable suit but he didn’t care. He hadn’t changed for three days.
Jeroen was sitting on the edge of the tallest structure in Chicago. The wind was rustling his usually impeccable suit but he didn’t care. He hadn’t changed for three days. He looked below him at the toy-like figures moving around, living their lives completely oblivious to his presence, to his existence. His hands cling to the edge of the flat roof. He had never thought of his death much before. There had never been any need to. He was always going to live on and he was too clever to get himself killed. He had been content with that state of things but now… He raised his gaze and was met by the horizon. Could there really be a heaven where Claire would be waiting for him? If he just slid an inch or two more he could lose balance and meet her there right now. They could be together once more. But if there wasn’t a heaven, he would simply be dead. What could would that do? He still had a war to lead. His grip tightened at the thought. This war had taken Claire away from him. There was not much point in saving his world now if she couldn’t be in it as well. He closed his eyes and moved a little closed to the edge.
“Don’t.”
Jeroen stopped his movement when he heard Paul’s gentle voice.
“And why not?” He couldn’t find an answer to this question himself and was hoping he could make his friend see reason too. There was no more need for him, not now that he was broken and defeated.
“Because we’ve won.” Paul came to sit besides him.
Jeroen turn his eyes to his friend. They had known each other for too long not to be able to discern when the other was lying. Paul’s face was serene and was holding no trace of receipt but Jeroen couldn’t believe him. How could they have won when they were still so far from any hope of a real final victory.
“He’s dead,” Paul explained. “No one knows how. We just found him dead in his office this morning. A blow to the head.”
Jeroen just stared at his friend. If Maximilien was dead his work was really over. He had no duty left in this world and nothing else to give.
“It’s over then.” His grip loosened on the wall, his palms resting flat against the roof.
“It isn’t. We have a world to rebuilt.” Paul placed a hand around Jeroen’s shoulders. “You and I.”
Jeroen laughed bitterly. “What world? It’s over Paul, all over. The fear is gone, they can take care of themselves.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to die. I’m still here and I need you.”
“What for,” Jeroen barked at him.
“You’re my friend, my one true ally and I don’t want to conceive of a world without you. Simple as that.” Paul stared at him for a long minute. Jeroen was unable to speak under the scrutiny of his old friend. He felt guilt an immeasurable guilt rise up in him and he didn’t know if it was for Claire or Paul, but when his friend got up extending a hand to him, he grabbed it and walked away from the edge. He had lost most of his world but he was still breathing and they had won. He guessed he couldn’t die just yet.
Fandom: Original (Immortals)
Prompt: Prompt 422 - Pyrrhic victory
Warnings: N/A.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Jeroen was sitting on the edge of the tallest structure in Chicago. The wind was rustling his usually impeccable suit but he didn’t care. He hadn’t changed for three days.
Jeroen was sitting on the edge of the tallest structure in Chicago. The wind was rustling his usually impeccable suit but he didn’t care. He hadn’t changed for three days. He looked below him at the toy-like figures moving around, living their lives completely oblivious to his presence, to his existence. His hands cling to the edge of the flat roof. He had never thought of his death much before. There had never been any need to. He was always going to live on and he was too clever to get himself killed. He had been content with that state of things but now… He raised his gaze and was met by the horizon. Could there really be a heaven where Claire would be waiting for him? If he just slid an inch or two more he could lose balance and meet her there right now. They could be together once more. But if there wasn’t a heaven, he would simply be dead. What could would that do? He still had a war to lead. His grip tightened at the thought. This war had taken Claire away from him. There was not much point in saving his world now if she couldn’t be in it as well. He closed his eyes and moved a little closed to the edge.
“Don’t.”
Jeroen stopped his movement when he heard Paul’s gentle voice.
“And why not?” He couldn’t find an answer to this question himself and was hoping he could make his friend see reason too. There was no more need for him, not now that he was broken and defeated.
“Because we’ve won.” Paul came to sit besides him.
Jeroen turn his eyes to his friend. They had known each other for too long not to be able to discern when the other was lying. Paul’s face was serene and was holding no trace of receipt but Jeroen couldn’t believe him. How could they have won when they were still so far from any hope of a real final victory.
“He’s dead,” Paul explained. “No one knows how. We just found him dead in his office this morning. A blow to the head.”
Jeroen just stared at his friend. If Maximilien was dead his work was really over. He had no duty left in this world and nothing else to give.
“It’s over then.” His grip loosened on the wall, his palms resting flat against the roof.
“It isn’t. We have a world to rebuilt.” Paul placed a hand around Jeroen’s shoulders. “You and I.”
Jeroen laughed bitterly. “What world? It’s over Paul, all over. The fear is gone, they can take care of themselves.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to die. I’m still here and I need you.”
“What for,” Jeroen barked at him.
“You’re my friend, my one true ally and I don’t want to conceive of a world without you. Simple as that.” Paul stared at him for a long minute. Jeroen was unable to speak under the scrutiny of his old friend. He felt guilt an immeasurable guilt rise up in him and he didn’t know if it was for Claire or Paul, but when his friend got up extending a hand to him, he grabbed it and walked away from the edge. He had lost most of his world but he was still breathing and they had won. He guessed he couldn’t die just yet.
