Count the Hours
Title: Count the Hours
Characters: Jude/Max
Fandom: Across the Universe
Rating: R
Table: 1
Prompt: 29, Hours
Author's Note: This is entirely a product of imagination, and I do not own Jude Feeny, Max Carrigan, or any of the other characters depicted in the film Across the Universe.
Dear Jude,
I've lost track of how many days I've been here. I have no idea how many weeks or months it might be. At this point, every minute seems like an hour, and all the hours seem like they last for days. It's impossible for me to know just how much time is passing.
People say you can tell when each day begins and ends because of how it gets dark and then light again, but daylight here isn't an indicator of another day. Time just feels like it's an ongoing process, with no light at the end of the tunnel.
That sounds really depressing, I know. I keep telling myself that I should try to keep my spirits up, and I don't want to depress you with these letters and make you feel helpless. I sure as fuck do, and I know you probably feel worse in the respect.
But I can't lie to you and tell you that I'm feeling okay and doing well and all that crap, when you know that I'm not. I don't want to make you scared or worried, but lying to you would be even worse. I swore when all this started that I would never do that.
The truth is, every day I feel like there's another little piece of who I used to be that gets ripped away. Some days it's a little tiny piece, so minute that I don't even realize it's gone. Other days, it's like a part of my soul dies, and those are the days that scare me the most.
Those are the really bad days, the days when we have to charge into a village and don't know what we'll find. If there's women and kids there, then that day becomes the worst one I've ever lived through. There's been too many of those days since I've been here.
Sometimes I wonder what you'd think of me if you could see how I'm living, see the things I have to do. It's not like I want to be here doing any of these things -- but I feel like I have to do them, or else I'll die here and never make it back to you.
I can't help wondering sometimes what the papers and radio at home tell people about what we're doing here. It's probably not the truth -- I bet they make us sound like these conquering heroes when really, all we're doing is committing acts of violence.
I'm scared that being here is going to change me, Jude. I don't want that. I never believed in this war, and I don't want to be here fighting it. But since I'm here, I feel like I have to do what I'm told, or they'll keep me here and I'll never see you again.
That's the greatest fear I could ever have -- not ever being able to hold you or kiss you or make love to you again. That's what keeps me going, through all the minutes and hours and days and weeks that I'm stuck here in a living hell. Knowing that I'll eventually go home to you.
Do these hours go by just as slowly for you as they do for me? I'm pretty sure they do. After all, I'm the one who's constantly on my guard, watching and waiting and feeling like a tiger about to spring on its prety. You're just .... waiting.
Or are you? That's another one of my greatest fears -- that with all the minutes and hours and days and weeks that we're apart, you'll forget about me and find somebody else and fall in love with them. I have awful nightmares about that. I'm always afraid that I'll lose you.
In my more sane moments, I tell myself over and over that nothing is going to keep us away from each other, that you're not the kind of guy to fall in love with somebody else just because I have to be away from you. That calms me down most of the time.
Are you counting the hours just like I am? Hell, I even count the minutes. I keep telling myself that every one of those minutes is bringing me closer to the end of this fucking war, closer to the day when I can go back home and be in your arms again.
Every night I dream about you, and every day I have daydreams about what it's going to be like to hold you and kiss you again. I keep seeing your smile, and seeing how you look after we make love and you're laying there all happy and satisfied.
If anybody else got to see you like that .... I couldn't take it, Jude. That's my paranoia talking again, trying to make me believe that this war is going to tear you and me apart and that everything's going to be changed between us when I do finally get back home.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll even make it through this. Knowing my luck, I could be the guy who steps on a live land mine the day I'm supposed to go home -- and you'll end up getting me back in pieces in a body bag. That's another recurring nightmare I have.
It's a creepy thought, thinking that we've both gone through all these minutes and hours and days and weeks and now even months without each other, and that there's still a damn good chance that we might never be together again if I don't make it back safely.
I don't want to think like that. I don't want either one of us to think that all these hours of being apart aren't going to end with us being back together. I'm holding on to the thought that these hours are just something I have to get through to be with you.
Every minute I spend in this place feels like a fucking lifetime. If some genie in a bottle could suddenly appear in front of me, and give me one wish, that wish would be for all the hours I have to spend away from you to fly by so I could be home, with you in my arms.
I'm sure that's what you're wishing for too, baby. And I really believe that as long as we keep holding on to that wish, it'll come true. It might take a while, but that day will get here. And when it does, maybe we'll look back on these hours and think that they weren't really so long after all.
Who the hell am I kidding? These hours are always going to be the longest ones of my entire life. Any time that I thought went by slowly before seems like it just flashed past in a blur compared to this, because I want to be back home with you so badly.
I've just got to hold on to that wish and that belief that I'll make it back in one piece. I'm keeping you in my mind and in my heart, and count all these hours that I've still got to get through. And I'll be glad when those hours of wanting are behind me, and my wish finally does come true.
Love always,
Max
Characters: Jude/Max
Fandom: Across the Universe
Rating: R
Table: 1
Prompt: 29, Hours
Author's Note: This is entirely a product of imagination, and I do not own Jude Feeny, Max Carrigan, or any of the other characters depicted in the film Across the Universe.
Dear Jude,
I've lost track of how many days I've been here. I have no idea how many weeks or months it might be. At this point, every minute seems like an hour, and all the hours seem like they last for days. It's impossible for me to know just how much time is passing.
People say you can tell when each day begins and ends because of how it gets dark and then light again, but daylight here isn't an indicator of another day. Time just feels like it's an ongoing process, with no light at the end of the tunnel.
That sounds really depressing, I know. I keep telling myself that I should try to keep my spirits up, and I don't want to depress you with these letters and make you feel helpless. I sure as fuck do, and I know you probably feel worse in the respect.
But I can't lie to you and tell you that I'm feeling okay and doing well and all that crap, when you know that I'm not. I don't want to make you scared or worried, but lying to you would be even worse. I swore when all this started that I would never do that.
The truth is, every day I feel like there's another little piece of who I used to be that gets ripped away. Some days it's a little tiny piece, so minute that I don't even realize it's gone. Other days, it's like a part of my soul dies, and those are the days that scare me the most.
Those are the really bad days, the days when we have to charge into a village and don't know what we'll find. If there's women and kids there, then that day becomes the worst one I've ever lived through. There's been too many of those days since I've been here.
Sometimes I wonder what you'd think of me if you could see how I'm living, see the things I have to do. It's not like I want to be here doing any of these things -- but I feel like I have to do them, or else I'll die here and never make it back to you.
I can't help wondering sometimes what the papers and radio at home tell people about what we're doing here. It's probably not the truth -- I bet they make us sound like these conquering heroes when really, all we're doing is committing acts of violence.
I'm scared that being here is going to change me, Jude. I don't want that. I never believed in this war, and I don't want to be here fighting it. But since I'm here, I feel like I have to do what I'm told, or they'll keep me here and I'll never see you again.
That's the greatest fear I could ever have -- not ever being able to hold you or kiss you or make love to you again. That's what keeps me going, through all the minutes and hours and days and weeks that I'm stuck here in a living hell. Knowing that I'll eventually go home to you.
Do these hours go by just as slowly for you as they do for me? I'm pretty sure they do. After all, I'm the one who's constantly on my guard, watching and waiting and feeling like a tiger about to spring on its prety. You're just .... waiting.
Or are you? That's another one of my greatest fears -- that with all the minutes and hours and days and weeks that we're apart, you'll forget about me and find somebody else and fall in love with them. I have awful nightmares about that. I'm always afraid that I'll lose you.
In my more sane moments, I tell myself over and over that nothing is going to keep us away from each other, that you're not the kind of guy to fall in love with somebody else just because I have to be away from you. That calms me down most of the time.
Are you counting the hours just like I am? Hell, I even count the minutes. I keep telling myself that every one of those minutes is bringing me closer to the end of this fucking war, closer to the day when I can go back home and be in your arms again.
Every night I dream about you, and every day I have daydreams about what it's going to be like to hold you and kiss you again. I keep seeing your smile, and seeing how you look after we make love and you're laying there all happy and satisfied.
If anybody else got to see you like that .... I couldn't take it, Jude. That's my paranoia talking again, trying to make me believe that this war is going to tear you and me apart and that everything's going to be changed between us when I do finally get back home.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll even make it through this. Knowing my luck, I could be the guy who steps on a live land mine the day I'm supposed to go home -- and you'll end up getting me back in pieces in a body bag. That's another recurring nightmare I have.
It's a creepy thought, thinking that we've both gone through all these minutes and hours and days and weeks and now even months without each other, and that there's still a damn good chance that we might never be together again if I don't make it back safely.
I don't want to think like that. I don't want either one of us to think that all these hours of being apart aren't going to end with us being back together. I'm holding on to the thought that these hours are just something I have to get through to be with you.
Every minute I spend in this place feels like a fucking lifetime. If some genie in a bottle could suddenly appear in front of me, and give me one wish, that wish would be for all the hours I have to spend away from you to fly by so I could be home, with you in my arms.
I'm sure that's what you're wishing for too, baby. And I really believe that as long as we keep holding on to that wish, it'll come true. It might take a while, but that day will get here. And when it does, maybe we'll look back on these hours and think that they weren't really so long after all.
Who the hell am I kidding? These hours are always going to be the longest ones of my entire life. Any time that I thought went by slowly before seems like it just flashed past in a blur compared to this, because I want to be back home with you so badly.
I've just got to hold on to that wish and that belief that I'll make it back in one piece. I'm keeping you in my mind and in my heart, and count all these hours that I've still got to get through. And I'll be glad when those hours of wanting are behind me, and my wish finally does come true.
Love always,
Max