Twelve Days - December 19 - Patty/Ellen
Title: Everybody Leaves
Challenge: The Twelve Days of Christmas!
Prompt: Damages, Patty/Ellen, Not a Merry Christmas.
For: doesnt_go_away
Word Count: 394
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You still don't have an answer.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Your son will never speak to you again.
This claim isn't new, so you almost (but not quite) feel nothing as you hear his angry declaration. The final words of his message are Merry Christmas, and the part of you that's completely detached from this, from Michael, from what he's done, from how you've struck back, from the endless cycle that might finally be over now, pities him for believing such a sign-off to be clever. You raised him to be smarter than this, didn't you?
(You failed him. He failed himself.)
You delete the message and pour yourself a glass of wine. Then another. As the world gets more and more hazy, your defenses weaker, you think about your children. One you killed and the other tried to kill you, and that's fitting in a way, isn't it? Ellen's question returns to your mind:
Was it all worth it?
You still don't have an answer.
Later, Ellen invades your subconscious; appears in your dreams (not for the first time). She tells you, no, none of it has been worth it. You say, yes, she's right, but she doesn't seem to get any satisfaction from your agreement.
(Sometimes, you dream of her as your lover.
Sometimes, you're cradling her in your arms as if she's a child. As if she's your child.
You killed her once, killed her with your own hands. You woke up in a sweat, shaking, and thinking of everything you've done. Not just to her.)
A couple of days later, Ellen calls. You miss it, so you hear her voice later. She wishes you a Merry Christmas, too, without a sense of irony.
(It's amazing, what a person can forgive if not forget. It's amazing that she's the one who's forgiven you.)
You keep the message. That night, you dream of her again.
(Her legs are spread for you. You sink to your knees.)
*
You need a new case, a cause, something to give you purpose. You need a partner; someone to care, to fight, with you.
You need Ellen.
(Years ago, you would have forced her hand. Made her return, but controlling her isn't something you can do anymore. Even if you could, for some reason, you no longer want to.)
You keep searching. Outside your office, your apartment, the city looks like Christmas.
(And maybe, somewhere, Ellen is looking for a reason to come back to you.)
END
Challenge: The Twelve Days of Christmas!
Prompt: Damages, Patty/Ellen, Not a Merry Christmas.
For: doesnt_go_away
Word Count: 394
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You still don't have an answer.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Your son will never speak to you again.
This claim isn't new, so you almost (but not quite) feel nothing as you hear his angry declaration. The final words of his message are Merry Christmas, and the part of you that's completely detached from this, from Michael, from what he's done, from how you've struck back, from the endless cycle that might finally be over now, pities him for believing such a sign-off to be clever. You raised him to be smarter than this, didn't you?
(You failed him. He failed himself.)
You delete the message and pour yourself a glass of wine. Then another. As the world gets more and more hazy, your defenses weaker, you think about your children. One you killed and the other tried to kill you, and that's fitting in a way, isn't it? Ellen's question returns to your mind:
Was it all worth it?
You still don't have an answer.
Later, Ellen invades your subconscious; appears in your dreams (not for the first time). She tells you, no, none of it has been worth it. You say, yes, she's right, but she doesn't seem to get any satisfaction from your agreement.
(Sometimes, you dream of her as your lover.
Sometimes, you're cradling her in your arms as if she's a child. As if she's your child.
You killed her once, killed her with your own hands. You woke up in a sweat, shaking, and thinking of everything you've done. Not just to her.)
A couple of days later, Ellen calls. You miss it, so you hear her voice later. She wishes you a Merry Christmas, too, without a sense of irony.
(It's amazing, what a person can forgive if not forget. It's amazing that she's the one who's forgiven you.)
You keep the message. That night, you dream of her again.
(Her legs are spread for you. You sink to your knees.)
*
You need a new case, a cause, something to give you purpose. You need a partner; someone to care, to fight, with you.
You need Ellen.
(Years ago, you would have forced her hand. Made her return, but controlling her isn't something you can do anymore. Even if you could, for some reason, you no longer want to.)
You keep searching. Outside your office, your apartment, the city looks like Christmas.
(And maybe, somewhere, Ellen is looking for a reason to come back to you.)
END