Fic: Every Rose has its Thorn, Green Cortina, author Kirsteena
Title: Every Rose has its Thorn
Author: kirsteena
Fandom: Life on Mars
Spoilers: 2.08, Ashes to Ashes Ep 1
Rating: NC-13 (Green Cortina)
Word Count: 543
Summary: Paradise found, Paradise Lost
a/n Written for the fanfic50 challenge, prompt 45, Poison. Unbeta'ed, all mistakes are my own. I'm hoping this works here more than A2Ashes. Call it Life on Mars, the lost years.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
It all began with a rose.
Sam, the sweet, loving man that he was, had bought Annie flowers. There had been nothing new in that - it was the kind of thing Sam cherished doing for his wife. Seeing her face as he crept into their house (their home! God, would he ever get used to that?), holding the bunch of flowers around the kitchen door, waiting for her to catch a glimpse of them, her face bursting into a smile, that special smile she only ever used for him - made everything worthwhile.
She had pricked her finger on the thorn of the rose. “It’s nothing!” she’d said, sucking her finger. Sam had playfully kissed it, telling her he had to kiss it better. That one kiss had led to others, deeper, more sensual, and had ended up with them making love on the kitchen table, the roses lying forgotten on the floor.
That night, the dreams started.
Annie had been shocked out of her sleep by the sound of Sam screaming - a sound she had not heard for a long time. She took a moment to orient herself, then realised what the noise was. Waking Sam from his nightmares, she had held him close, shushing him, telling him it would all be ok, that she was here, and wasn’t everything alright when they were together? She had felt the fear cascading off him, heard him babbling incoherently, telling someone to go away, leave them alone. Gently she had soothed him, waiting as exhaustion eventually overtook him, sending him into what Annie had hoped was a dreamless sleep. She, however, had not been able to sleep again that night.
Over the next few weeks she watched as his life, her love, was slowly taken from her.
The dreams had continued to haunt Sam. He had become more distracted, and both work and homelife had suffered as a result. They had argued, both in the safety of their home, and more embarrassingly, at work. Gene had watched Sam, obviously worried, but unable to say anything. He had tried to ask Annie whether she was fine, but couldn’t put into words what he wanted to say. After that one time of trying, he had left them alone, but anyone who knew him could see the pain hidden in his eyes.
It had all happened so fast.
Sam had tried to sort things out with Annie. She had been working too hard, Gene had told her to take the day off. Sam had been thoughtful, had had flowers delivered to her. Roses. They had been beautiful, yellow, delicate.
She had pricked her finger once again on a thorn when she had been arranging them.
The knock at the door had happened two hours later. As soon as Annie had seen Gene standing there, his eyes red and swollen, she had known what had happened. One cry, and she had collapsed into Gene’s arms. Gene had held her awkwardly, lost in his own grief for the friend he had lost.
Three months later, Sam had been officially declared dead, even though there was no sign of his body. Everyone had wanted to finish grieving, to move on.
Unsurprisingly, Annie had said she wanted no roses at the funeral.
Author: kirsteena
Fandom: Life on Mars
Spoilers: 2.08, Ashes to Ashes Ep 1
Rating: NC-13 (Green Cortina)
Word Count: 543
Summary: Paradise found, Paradise Lost
a/n Written for the fanfic50 challenge, prompt 45, Poison. Unbeta'ed, all mistakes are my own. I'm hoping this works here more than A2Ashes. Call it Life on Mars, the lost years.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
It all began with a rose.
Sam, the sweet, loving man that he was, had bought Annie flowers. There had been nothing new in that - it was the kind of thing Sam cherished doing for his wife. Seeing her face as he crept into their house (their home! God, would he ever get used to that?), holding the bunch of flowers around the kitchen door, waiting for her to catch a glimpse of them, her face bursting into a smile, that special smile she only ever used for him - made everything worthwhile.
She had pricked her finger on the thorn of the rose. “It’s nothing!” she’d said, sucking her finger. Sam had playfully kissed it, telling her he had to kiss it better. That one kiss had led to others, deeper, more sensual, and had ended up with them making love on the kitchen table, the roses lying forgotten on the floor.
That night, the dreams started.
Annie had been shocked out of her sleep by the sound of Sam screaming - a sound she had not heard for a long time. She took a moment to orient herself, then realised what the noise was. Waking Sam from his nightmares, she had held him close, shushing him, telling him it would all be ok, that she was here, and wasn’t everything alright when they were together? She had felt the fear cascading off him, heard him babbling incoherently, telling someone to go away, leave them alone. Gently she had soothed him, waiting as exhaustion eventually overtook him, sending him into what Annie had hoped was a dreamless sleep. She, however, had not been able to sleep again that night.
Over the next few weeks she watched as his life, her love, was slowly taken from her.
The dreams had continued to haunt Sam. He had become more distracted, and both work and homelife had suffered as a result. They had argued, both in the safety of their home, and more embarrassingly, at work. Gene had watched Sam, obviously worried, but unable to say anything. He had tried to ask Annie whether she was fine, but couldn’t put into words what he wanted to say. After that one time of trying, he had left them alone, but anyone who knew him could see the pain hidden in his eyes.
It had all happened so fast.
Sam had tried to sort things out with Annie. She had been working too hard, Gene had told her to take the day off. Sam had been thoughtful, had had flowers delivered to her. Roses. They had been beautiful, yellow, delicate.
She had pricked her finger once again on a thorn when she had been arranging them.
The knock at the door had happened two hours later. As soon as Annie had seen Gene standing there, his eyes red and swollen, she had known what had happened. One cry, and she had collapsed into Gene’s arms. Gene had held her awkwardly, lost in his own grief for the friend he had lost.
Three months later, Sam had been officially declared dead, even though there was no sign of his body. Everyone had wanted to finish grieving, to move on.
Unsurprisingly, Annie had said she wanted no roses at the funeral.