[fic] Heartbeats
Title: ‘Heartbeats’.
Characters: Dylan, Fletcher Hadley [knowmycall] and mentions of Sarah Monroe [allthesigns].
Notes: Set after Dylan gets back. Breaky angel ensues.
Word Count: 683.
Prompt: ‘Heart’ - Part of the ‘Body Part Prompt’ Series for Beyond The Rift.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when she would get back. He wasn’t sure if she’d get back at all, but that was something he avoided thinking about entirely.
She did, she came back. Barely there, detached, bruised and very much broken, she came back. And Fletch tried the best he could to get the twinkle in her eye and the skip back in her heart again.
The first few days were the hardest. He’d almost moved in to her apartment just to make sure she’d be alright. Sarah would come every now and then to look after her, hold her hand, talk to her. Because there were only so many words he knew to say. Dylan barely spoke, barely ate; she didn’t really move much at all. She’d been curled up on her bed most of the time, blankly staring out into the far distance.
He’d looked through her bag a day or so earlier and amongst the hastily-packed clothes and first aid supplies, he’d found papers and an ornate knife wrapped in a scarf. Ignoring the fumes of petrol and burnt flesh, he’d unfolded the scarf to find the knife coated in black blood.
The papers showed a police file, the picture of a dark haired man glaring back at him. Fletch couldn’t shrug off the anger in his chest. He’d of killed the guy himself if he’d known that this was what would happen to her afterwards. He’d taken some part of her away as a child, now he’d done the same this time round as an adult. The only consolation would be he’d hopefully take no more.
Fletch found himself hovering in the doorway a lot. Sometimes he was almost scared she’d stopped breathing because she moved so little. He was scared that she wasn’t alive. If he turned round, she’d stop breathing all together. That she’d just give… no, he wouldn’t think about it. The worry was still there, but lingering on it wouldn’t do him any good.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he told her gently one evening, “Y’need to eat something,”
Dylan moved her head a fraction, as if to shake it.
“Just a little, please? C’mon, just for me?”
No answer. No movement.
Fletch sighed, looked at her with a pained look. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Five days she’d been back and now he wondered if she really was back at all. Leaving the bowl untouched on the bedside table, he leant forward and gently moved her back. Quietly getting on the bed, he pulled her close and didn’t say anything for a while. He felt her heart beat feebly in her chest, like some dying bird, and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I wish you’d say something,” he said after a while.
He still didn’t get a reply. So he kept talking for the both of them.
“It’s going to be alright, y’know. I don’t think it’ll be easy for you, but it’ll be alright,” he sighed again, “You said you were gonna get him and you did. And y’came back. ... I just wish you’d be okay, that you’d say something, let me know you’re alright,”
He gently placed a hand over her heart, “You’re alive, Dylan. You’re here and alive. Feel that? Your heart’s beating. You’re alive,” he moved her hand and placed it over his heart, “And me. I’m alive, I’m here. I know you’re tired, but it’s over. Don’t give up on me, y’can start living again. Don’t you want that?”
He sighed heavily, “You’re scaring me, kiddo. Please, don’t give up on me,”
There was a long pause; he was unsure what else to say. He just hoped it would be enough. After a while, Dylan gently closed her hand into a fist and took a long breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind, clogs began to turn and the heavy emptiness in her head began to fall away.
“I’m s-sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mmm-ean to,”
Fletch let himself smile a little in relief, “It’s alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to her head. “You’re fine,”
Characters: Dylan, Fletcher Hadley [knowmycall] and mentions of Sarah Monroe [allthesigns].
Notes: Set after Dylan gets back. Breaky angel ensues.
Word Count: 683.
Prompt: ‘Heart’ - Part of the ‘Body Part Prompt’ Series for Beyond The Rift.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when she would get back. He wasn’t sure if she’d get back at all, but that was something he avoided thinking about entirely.
She did, she came back. Barely there, detached, bruised and very much broken, she came back. And Fletch tried the best he could to get the twinkle in her eye and the skip back in her heart again.
The first few days were the hardest. He’d almost moved in to her apartment just to make sure she’d be alright. Sarah would come every now and then to look after her, hold her hand, talk to her. Because there were only so many words he knew to say. Dylan barely spoke, barely ate; she didn’t really move much at all. She’d been curled up on her bed most of the time, blankly staring out into the far distance.
He’d looked through her bag a day or so earlier and amongst the hastily-packed clothes and first aid supplies, he’d found papers and an ornate knife wrapped in a scarf. Ignoring the fumes of petrol and burnt flesh, he’d unfolded the scarf to find the knife coated in black blood.
The papers showed a police file, the picture of a dark haired man glaring back at him. Fletch couldn’t shrug off the anger in his chest. He’d of killed the guy himself if he’d known that this was what would happen to her afterwards. He’d taken some part of her away as a child, now he’d done the same this time round as an adult. The only consolation would be he’d hopefully take no more.
Fletch found himself hovering in the doorway a lot. Sometimes he was almost scared she’d stopped breathing because she moved so little. He was scared that she wasn’t alive. If he turned round, she’d stop breathing all together. That she’d just give… no, he wouldn’t think about it. The worry was still there, but lingering on it wouldn’t do him any good.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he told her gently one evening, “Y’need to eat something,”
Dylan moved her head a fraction, as if to shake it.
“Just a little, please? C’mon, just for me?”
No answer. No movement.
Fletch sighed, looked at her with a pained look. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Five days she’d been back and now he wondered if she really was back at all. Leaving the bowl untouched on the bedside table, he leant forward and gently moved her back. Quietly getting on the bed, he pulled her close and didn’t say anything for a while. He felt her heart beat feebly in her chest, like some dying bird, and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I wish you’d say something,” he said after a while.
He still didn’t get a reply. So he kept talking for the both of them.
“It’s going to be alright, y’know. I don’t think it’ll be easy for you, but it’ll be alright,” he sighed again, “You said you were gonna get him and you did. And y’came back. ... I just wish you’d be okay, that you’d say something, let me know you’re alright,”
He gently placed a hand over her heart, “You’re alive, Dylan. You’re here and alive. Feel that? Your heart’s beating. You’re alive,” he moved her hand and placed it over his heart, “And me. I’m alive, I’m here. I know you’re tired, but it’s over. Don’t give up on me, y’can start living again. Don’t you want that?”
He sighed heavily, “You’re scaring me, kiddo. Please, don’t give up on me,”
There was a long pause; he was unsure what else to say. He just hoped it would be enough. After a while, Dylan gently closed her hand into a fist and took a long breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind, clogs began to turn and the heavy emptiness in her head began to fall away.
“I’m s-sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mmm-ean to,”
Fletch let himself smile a little in relief, “It’s alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to her head. “You’re fine,”