twenty two fourteen: Heroes
Title: twenty two fourteen
Author: blueeyelinerx
Rating: G
Word Count: 512
Pairing/Character: Claire, the Haitian
Summary: He wants to tell her that in time, everything will be all right.
Spoilers/Warnings: post-ep? drabble? for Company Man
inspired by the hauntingly beautiful instrumental twenty two fourteen by the album leaf.
He wants to tell Claire that it gets better.
He wants to tell her that slowly the ache in her chest will fade and the lump in her throat will disappear. The constant hurt will ebb away and will settle somewhere deeper, somewhere it isn’t always accessible every time she sees someone with the same glasses or a dog that’s a little too fluffy.
He wants to tell her that eventually, she won’t wake up in the middle of the night, her pillow stained with tears she didn’t know she was crying. The nightmares will become less and less frequent and someday, she’ll even remember how to laugh.
He wants to tell her that she’s going to move on and become stronger from this and she’ll even look back with fondness and love when she thinks of Odessa, Texas. That she’ll one day call New York City home and forget about how she loved the quiet and the kindness of strangers.
He wants to tell her that in time, everything will be all right.
He wants to tell her that it won’t matter that the only people she considers family will miss all the milestones in her life because Claire understands her father’s sacrifice and can appreciate how hard it was. That she’ll be able to steel herself against the heartache because she’s invincible and knows how to heal.
He wants to tell her so he chances a look at her, watches her beautifully tragic face stare blankly out of the window as they speed along the highway. He blinks and there she is in his mind, grown up and gorgeous and wearing all white. She’s swaying in front of the mirror, beaming at her reflection, but there’s something closed off about her expression and no one notices the way her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
He watches Claire shoo everyone out of the room and sit delicately in an antique arm chair. She takes a steely breath and allows a single solitary tear to mar her perfectly made up face because it’s the happiest day of her life except for the lump in her throat that won’t go away and the ache in her chest that’s never faded, not really. She used to dream about this day as a little girl and the dream is nothing like reality because her father isn’t there to whisper i love you Claire-bear one last time and her mother won’t cry all over herself in the front row.
He wants to tell her - the one in his mind, the one next to him in the car, he’s not sure which one, not sure it matters - that sometimes life doesn’t end up like you expect it but you adapt because if you don’t, you end up like him, an actor in someone’s else play, stealing forgotten lines.
In the end, the Haitian stays silent because Claire needs shiny words of comfort and all he has are memories, jumbled and snared, a dark package wrapped with a bow that’s slowly splintering him in a million pieces.
Author: blueeyelinerx
Rating: G
Word Count: 512
Pairing/Character: Claire, the Haitian
Summary: He wants to tell her that in time, everything will be all right.
Spoilers/Warnings: post-ep? drabble? for Company Man
inspired by the hauntingly beautiful instrumental twenty two fourteen by the album leaf.
He wants to tell Claire that it gets better.
He wants to tell her that slowly the ache in her chest will fade and the lump in her throat will disappear. The constant hurt will ebb away and will settle somewhere deeper, somewhere it isn’t always accessible every time she sees someone with the same glasses or a dog that’s a little too fluffy.
He wants to tell her that eventually, she won’t wake up in the middle of the night, her pillow stained with tears she didn’t know she was crying. The nightmares will become less and less frequent and someday, she’ll even remember how to laugh.
He wants to tell her that she’s going to move on and become stronger from this and she’ll even look back with fondness and love when she thinks of Odessa, Texas. That she’ll one day call New York City home and forget about how she loved the quiet and the kindness of strangers.
He wants to tell her that in time, everything will be all right.
He wants to tell her that it won’t matter that the only people she considers family will miss all the milestones in her life because Claire understands her father’s sacrifice and can appreciate how hard it was. That she’ll be able to steel herself against the heartache because she’s invincible and knows how to heal.
He wants to tell her so he chances a look at her, watches her beautifully tragic face stare blankly out of the window as they speed along the highway. He blinks and there she is in his mind, grown up and gorgeous and wearing all white. She’s swaying in front of the mirror, beaming at her reflection, but there’s something closed off about her expression and no one notices the way her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
He watches Claire shoo everyone out of the room and sit delicately in an antique arm chair. She takes a steely breath and allows a single solitary tear to mar her perfectly made up face because it’s the happiest day of her life except for the lump in her throat that won’t go away and the ache in her chest that’s never faded, not really. She used to dream about this day as a little girl and the dream is nothing like reality because her father isn’t there to whisper i love you Claire-bear one last time and her mother won’t cry all over herself in the front row.
He wants to tell her - the one in his mind, the one next to him in the car, he’s not sure which one, not sure it matters - that sometimes life doesn’t end up like you expect it but you adapt because if you don’t, you end up like him, an actor in someone’s else play, stealing forgotten lines.
In the end, the Haitian stays silent because Claire needs shiny words of comfort and all he has are memories, jumbled and snared, a dark package wrapped with a bow that’s slowly splintering him in a million pieces.