muse_shuffle | January Disc Two
Track 13. I will dedicate
And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth
Of how my story's ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing
[‘Crawling in the Dark’ - Hoobastank]
Co-written with doctortara
[Follows THIS]
Seeing the distraught state Tara was in sent a shot of panicked nausea through Lachlan’s stomach. He held his hand out as he breached the distance between. “Tara… baby, what’s the matter?” he tried again. Rationality told him it wasn’t anything wrong with their son because he had literally just gotten off the phone with his mother-in-law who had confirmed Riley was just fine.
“No!” Tara cried and tried to turn away from him. The single word came out in a choked sob and she shook her head. “Just stay there! I have to get rid of this! You can’t see it, Lachie, you can’t!”
Lachlan stopped where he was when she told him to and his eyes dropped down to what she was holding. The familiar leather and the small embroidered Scottish Saltire flag in the middle of the back. It used to be his favourite jacket. He wore it everywhere for years. There was no missing the blood stains, though. What used to be the soft white and blue lining was hardly visible now. He had been told my someone in one of those many days following waking from the coma that Tara had hung onto that jacket for dear life; not letting the police take it for evidence, not letting anyone take it from her. It was the only thing of his she really had to get through it, but he also knew that they hadn’t been able to get that jacket off him until he had been bleeding in it for at least fifteen minutes. It was an horrific souvenir from that night and he thought she had gotten ridden of it.
He had to close his eyes and look away to keep the little grip on his composure he had. He swallowed heavily, not liking how close he was feeling to vomiting. But he drew on something inside him and managed to look back to Tara, holding his hand out. “I’ll do it,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll take care of it, darlin’. Just give it to me.”
“No, Lachie,” Tara sobbed, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to see it.”
Lachlan shook his head. “It’s okay, baby. Just give it to me, aye? I dinnae want it hurting you anymore. Come on.” He started crying himself before he had a chance to even realise how much this was affecting him. “Tara, please. Dinnae fight me. Dinnae make it harder.”
Seeing his tears just caused Tara to break down more. She shifted the jacket from her arms and placed it in his outstretched hand and then put her hand up to her mouth with a small shake of her head. Any words were swallowed by her pained sobs and she just wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, the jacket getting caught between their bodies in the embrace. “It still hurts,” she sobbed quietly against his ear. “It doesn’t ever stop…”
“I know, baby… I know,” Lachlan whispered back to her, cradling her head against his cheek. He kissed her hair, holding her like he wouldn’t ever let go. He didn’t try to reassure her that he was alive and wouldn’t go away. He never did. He came too close to dying to believe any truth behind reassurances like that. He knew she wouldn’t want them and it wouldn’t dilute the pain. All they had was to hold each other and feel that, despite the garish blood stains on his jacket, his heart was still beating and it was beating because of her.
Word Count | 590
And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth
Of how my story's ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing
[‘Crawling in the Dark’ - Hoobastank]
Co-written with doctortara
[Follows THIS]
Seeing the distraught state Tara was in sent a shot of panicked nausea through Lachlan’s stomach. He held his hand out as he breached the distance between. “Tara… baby, what’s the matter?” he tried again. Rationality told him it wasn’t anything wrong with their son because he had literally just gotten off the phone with his mother-in-law who had confirmed Riley was just fine.
“No!” Tara cried and tried to turn away from him. The single word came out in a choked sob and she shook her head. “Just stay there! I have to get rid of this! You can’t see it, Lachie, you can’t!”
Lachlan stopped where he was when she told him to and his eyes dropped down to what she was holding. The familiar leather and the small embroidered Scottish Saltire flag in the middle of the back. It used to be his favourite jacket. He wore it everywhere for years. There was no missing the blood stains, though. What used to be the soft white and blue lining was hardly visible now. He had been told my someone in one of those many days following waking from the coma that Tara had hung onto that jacket for dear life; not letting the police take it for evidence, not letting anyone take it from her. It was the only thing of his she really had to get through it, but he also knew that they hadn’t been able to get that jacket off him until he had been bleeding in it for at least fifteen minutes. It was an horrific souvenir from that night and he thought she had gotten ridden of it.
He had to close his eyes and look away to keep the little grip on his composure he had. He swallowed heavily, not liking how close he was feeling to vomiting. But he drew on something inside him and managed to look back to Tara, holding his hand out. “I’ll do it,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll take care of it, darlin’. Just give it to me.”
“No, Lachie,” Tara sobbed, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to see it.”
Lachlan shook his head. “It’s okay, baby. Just give it to me, aye? I dinnae want it hurting you anymore. Come on.” He started crying himself before he had a chance to even realise how much this was affecting him. “Tara, please. Dinnae fight me. Dinnae make it harder.”
Seeing his tears just caused Tara to break down more. She shifted the jacket from her arms and placed it in his outstretched hand and then put her hand up to her mouth with a small shake of her head. Any words were swallowed by her pained sobs and she just wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, the jacket getting caught between their bodies in the embrace. “It still hurts,” she sobbed quietly against his ear. “It doesn’t ever stop…”
“I know, baby… I know,” Lachlan whispered back to her, cradling her head against his cheek. He kissed her hair, holding her like he wouldn’t ever let go. He didn’t try to reassure her that he was alive and wouldn’t go away. He never did. He came too close to dying to believe any truth behind reassurances like that. He knew she wouldn’t want them and it wouldn’t dilute the pain. All they had was to hold each other and feel that, despite the garish blood stains on his jacket, his heart was still beating and it was beating because of her.
Word Count | 590