This is the second of the orphaned fics. This one obsessed me for a few weeks last year shortly after writing Five Stages of Grief, but it never seemed right, despite getting to 3,500 words. I've fiddled with the thing off and on for ages to no real avail, so - resolution and all - post it, forget it and move on
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This paragraph really resonated for me:
"He frowned. He could hear it in her voice, see it in the fevered blue of her eyes, the burning desire to live, to grow, to clutch life to herself and use any opportunity to keep it. And he recognised something - the desperation to be more than what she’d been, the realisation that the life she had been leading, when it came to it, wasn’t worth a fuck. He felt a sudden surge of something he hadn’t felt for decades - pity. He bit down on it and shook his head." Spike biting back the emotion was lovely.
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But then, I do have a bit of a soft spot :)
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Very sympathetic portrait of the young watcher, those few paras where you describe her past life, leading to this choice are well done to engender readers to care even more about her. Sort of place where I'd dither about dialogue, but the exposition works much better, less emotion = more somehow.
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Well did! And congratulations on the SDFA win.
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And to you! It was a really nice surprise - I've not won anything at SoG before.
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