Fic: Two Roads Diverged in a Wood
Title: Two Roads Diverged in a Wood
Prompt: Path, Team Angst
Author: elysium1996
Pairing/Characters: Megan
Rating/Category: (G/Gen)
Word Count: 855
Spoilers: Season 5
Summary: Megan's future in DC.
Notes/Warnings: Thank you to bubbleslayer for the beta any other mistakes are mine. Title and verse are from Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt, how angsty [or schmoopy] the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the 'one less traveled' by,
And that has made all the difference.
She often wondered if she’d made the right choice in leaving LA, leaving the family she had come to value more than her own.
She didn’t have many regrets, just two, the Eppes family and Larry. Gods, she missed them, missed her ‘brothers’, the father she’d always wanted, and her paramour.
She poured herself a splash of whiskey and added two fingers of club soda. She stared at the ice cubes in her glass and took a sip. She swallowed the liquid and felt a slight burn go down her throat. Funny she thought, as she took another sip, if she’d stayed any longer with the FBI she would have been at the point in her life where she’d have had the whiskey straight, and it would have been more than one glass.
Megan opened the curtains of her small apartment and stared at the few stars that she could see through all the smog. They were beautiful and made her heart ache again for Larry. She could imagine them shining bright like all the times they would lay on a grass to just stare at the night sky.
She moved back to the couch and glanced at the file for one of the women she was working with at Maryland Correctional Institution for Women. Delia Marsh, 27, and sentenced to prison with parole eligibility in 2015. Delia had been sexually abused, by her mother’s boyfriends for years until she ran away at the age of thirteen. She had become a prostitute and her pimp had hooked her on meth. Sometimes her pimp would just sell her for a score of crack. But then one day Delia had found herself pregnant and everything had changed. She had cleaned herself up and had gotten herself a job. She’d been able to get into a half way house for her and her daughter and had started to make a better life. Until her pimp had found her and threatened that new life. Delia had snapped and killed him. Now she was in prison paying for her crime. This doe-eyed girl, who could only think about her little Inez, was trying to get herself released so she could get her daughter back.
Megan felt somehow akin to Delia and so many of the other women she worked with, like she’d felt with Crystal Holye. Her own past hadn’t been picture perfect. Things could have turned out so differently for Megan. Her path diverging, one way led to pain, destruction and death and the other had led to truth, justice and a sense of self-worth. Megan could have gone either way if not for the help of a counselor she had met at the Women's center. That woman had kept Megan from going down the dark path, from spiraling down into oblivion. Not only had she helped Megan, she had sparked her interest in psychology.
She glanced again at Delia’s file and a few of the other women’s names on her list, women that she was working with, helping, trying to save. Trying. Megan wanted to help these women, give them another chance. The thought of not helping these women sometimes kept her up at night, worrying that she couldn’t make a difference for at least one of them. She didn’t scare easily. Not after all the times she’d gone on raids with the FBI, and stared down the barrel of a gun. But in the quite recesses of her mind, not being able to help these women terrified her. She feared that she wouldn't be able to, that she wouldn’t be good enough to help.
Megan glanced at her phone and thought about calling Larry but she stopped herself. She had to let him go, had to move on. She’d chosen this path. She knew that he would have helped her, talked to her, listened to her, but she couldn’t do that to him. She couldn't draw him to her anymore, asking for his shoulder to cry on. Larry was seeing someone new and it pained Megan but she was also really happy for him. He deserved happiness, and to be loved as well as love.
Megan had chosen this future for herself. A future that allowed her to escape the ugliness she had been feeling while working with the FBI. Going backwards wouldn't help her, it would only hinder her.
She frowned, hating the self-pity she was feeling.
She took the last sip of her drink and packed up the case files for the night. She decided to watch some mindless TV that she’d DVR’d. She clicked it on and tried to decide between The Big Bang Theory, Dancing with the Stars or Chuck. She made a selection and settled into her couch as she tried to still her mind.
But the truth is she couldn’t make it stop.
Megan kept thinking, if she was in LA she would have been sitting at the Eppes’ table playing poker, not here on the East coast, Alone.
Prompt: Path, Team Angst
Author: elysium1996
Pairing/Characters: Megan
Rating/Category: (G/Gen)
Word Count: 855
Spoilers: Season 5
Summary: Megan's future in DC.
Notes/Warnings: Thank you to bubbleslayer for the beta any other mistakes are mine. Title and verse are from Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken
This fic was written for the Angst vs Schmoop Challenge at numb3rswriteoff. After you’ve read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here. (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt, how angsty [or schmoopy] the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you’re done, please check out the other challenge fic at numb3rswriteoff. Thank you!
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the 'one less traveled' by,
And that has made all the difference.
She often wondered if she’d made the right choice in leaving LA, leaving the family she had come to value more than her own.
She didn’t have many regrets, just two, the Eppes family and Larry. Gods, she missed them, missed her ‘brothers’, the father she’d always wanted, and her paramour.
She poured herself a splash of whiskey and added two fingers of club soda. She stared at the ice cubes in her glass and took a sip. She swallowed the liquid and felt a slight burn go down her throat. Funny she thought, as she took another sip, if she’d stayed any longer with the FBI she would have been at the point in her life where she’d have had the whiskey straight, and it would have been more than one glass.
Megan opened the curtains of her small apartment and stared at the few stars that she could see through all the smog. They were beautiful and made her heart ache again for Larry. She could imagine them shining bright like all the times they would lay on a grass to just stare at the night sky.
She moved back to the couch and glanced at the file for one of the women she was working with at Maryland Correctional Institution for Women. Delia Marsh, 27, and sentenced to prison with parole eligibility in 2015. Delia had been sexually abused, by her mother’s boyfriends for years until she ran away at the age of thirteen. She had become a prostitute and her pimp had hooked her on meth. Sometimes her pimp would just sell her for a score of crack. But then one day Delia had found herself pregnant and everything had changed. She had cleaned herself up and had gotten herself a job. She’d been able to get into a half way house for her and her daughter and had started to make a better life. Until her pimp had found her and threatened that new life. Delia had snapped and killed him. Now she was in prison paying for her crime. This doe-eyed girl, who could only think about her little Inez, was trying to get herself released so she could get her daughter back.
Megan felt somehow akin to Delia and so many of the other women she worked with, like she’d felt with Crystal Holye. Her own past hadn’t been picture perfect. Things could have turned out so differently for Megan. Her path diverging, one way led to pain, destruction and death and the other had led to truth, justice and a sense of self-worth. Megan could have gone either way if not for the help of a counselor she had met at the Women's center. That woman had kept Megan from going down the dark path, from spiraling down into oblivion. Not only had she helped Megan, she had sparked her interest in psychology.
She glanced again at Delia’s file and a few of the other women’s names on her list, women that she was working with, helping, trying to save. Trying. Megan wanted to help these women, give them another chance. The thought of not helping these women sometimes kept her up at night, worrying that she couldn’t make a difference for at least one of them. She didn’t scare easily. Not after all the times she’d gone on raids with the FBI, and stared down the barrel of a gun. But in the quite recesses of her mind, not being able to help these women terrified her. She feared that she wouldn't be able to, that she wouldn’t be good enough to help.
Megan glanced at her phone and thought about calling Larry but she stopped herself. She had to let him go, had to move on. She’d chosen this path. She knew that he would have helped her, talked to her, listened to her, but she couldn’t do that to him. She couldn't draw him to her anymore, asking for his shoulder to cry on. Larry was seeing someone new and it pained Megan but she was also really happy for him. He deserved happiness, and to be loved as well as love.
Megan had chosen this future for herself. A future that allowed her to escape the ugliness she had been feeling while working with the FBI. Going backwards wouldn't help her, it would only hinder her.
She frowned, hating the self-pity she was feeling.
She took the last sip of her drink and packed up the case files for the night. She decided to watch some mindless TV that she’d DVR’d. She clicked it on and tried to decide between The Big Bang Theory, Dancing with the Stars or Chuck. She made a selection and settled into her couch as she tried to still her mind.
But the truth is she couldn’t make it stop.
Megan kept thinking, if she was in LA she would have been sitting at the Eppes’ table playing poker, not here on the East coast, Alone.