4400 fic: Reaching 1/1 K+
Title: Reaching
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: K+
Warning: Descriptions of major canon character death
Spoilers: Season 2 up to “Carrier”
Summary: Shawn relives the eventful day each night - he has no choice. Fate always plays out as it intends to.
A/N: Betaread by Fanwoman.
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It feels vivid, overpowering to his senses. He sees splashes of every color he can think of dashed around the crowd. His attention dances across, from person to person, until he picks up on the target - a staggering man, with holes in his chest, who falls like deadweight.
He's there in an instant, right by the side, as if everything has been fast forwarded - the blood is flowing out in streams, leaving the body, and he can't fix this. He clutches the head and concentrates like his own life depends on it.
In flashes, he sees who is before him. His mind is conscious that Jordan died like this, but it presents him with an overlay of another face, a ghost of his past. Though he knows him best from photos, he knows who this flickering image is. All at once, it is his mentor and his father. Both of them dying, leaving him.
There are hands everywhere, his hands trying to grasp at the man - to save his father, make him stay - and hands pulling him away. Jordan's clasping at him, desperate for his saviour at first, before he knows it's too late, then merely seeking to warn him. The words are hard to make out, and they mean very little to him. He wishes for more, but nothing else is said. He wants to know what to do. It's over, and everyone is looking to him. He's never been more confused, lost in a sea of people who don't know him, the only person who does unable to help. This is him all grown up and alone, like he's felt for years, but made real.
He wants to heal himself, heal those he loves first, but he can't. It has to be this way, fate boxing them all into a grand scheme for the future. All he wants is to simply be himself, to be normal and surrounded by family. Now he is special, and not the kind of special everyone appreciates. Jordan had appreciated it, but now Jordan is gone. He can't heal these wounds; they're too painful. They linger on, the blood on his hands a reminder as he slumps over the body. He's never been able to have what he wants. Life taunts him; this is just the latest event to blaze over him.
He wakes up, breathing harsh against the silence of his bedroom at the centre. His heart is pumping; he still feels the fear deep in his stomach. It always feels so real, and he hates that his subconscious makes him relive that day in glorious detail. Every morning, he gets up and tries to reassure himself that he's okay, that he's got work to do that no one else can...now that Jordan isn't around to do it.
And he has to remind himself that this is a gift, being a 4400, being chosen to save the world. One day, people will thank them, and he will be able to rest easy in satisfaction that he did what was foisted upon him. He'll do his duty because it means something. Jordan acts - had acted - like it was a blessing, not a curse, but Shawn thinks it could well be both. A blessing upon the world, or at least those he cures, but a curse upon himself and his family. Or maybe he's the one who's cursed. He can't decide, but it barely matters. As Matthew has shown him, he doesn't have a choice - that was taken away the minute Jordan was, never to be returned.
Author: Purpleyin
Rating: K+
Warning: Descriptions of major canon character death
Spoilers: Season 2 up to “Carrier”
Summary: Shawn relives the eventful day each night - he has no choice. Fate always plays out as it intends to.
A/N: Betaread by Fanwoman.
###
It feels vivid, overpowering to his senses. He sees splashes of every color he can think of dashed around the crowd. His attention dances across, from person to person, until he picks up on the target - a staggering man, with holes in his chest, who falls like deadweight.
He's there in an instant, right by the side, as if everything has been fast forwarded - the blood is flowing out in streams, leaving the body, and he can't fix this. He clutches the head and concentrates like his own life depends on it.
In flashes, he sees who is before him. His mind is conscious that Jordan died like this, but it presents him with an overlay of another face, a ghost of his past. Though he knows him best from photos, he knows who this flickering image is. All at once, it is his mentor and his father. Both of them dying, leaving him.
There are hands everywhere, his hands trying to grasp at the man - to save his father, make him stay - and hands pulling him away. Jordan's clasping at him, desperate for his saviour at first, before he knows it's too late, then merely seeking to warn him. The words are hard to make out, and they mean very little to him. He wishes for more, but nothing else is said. He wants to know what to do. It's over, and everyone is looking to him. He's never been more confused, lost in a sea of people who don't know him, the only person who does unable to help. This is him all grown up and alone, like he's felt for years, but made real.
He wants to heal himself, heal those he loves first, but he can't. It has to be this way, fate boxing them all into a grand scheme for the future. All he wants is to simply be himself, to be normal and surrounded by family. Now he is special, and not the kind of special everyone appreciates. Jordan had appreciated it, but now Jordan is gone. He can't heal these wounds; they're too painful. They linger on, the blood on his hands a reminder as he slumps over the body. He's never been able to have what he wants. Life taunts him; this is just the latest event to blaze over him.
He wakes up, breathing harsh against the silence of his bedroom at the centre. His heart is pumping; he still feels the fear deep in his stomach. It always feels so real, and he hates that his subconscious makes him relive that day in glorious detail. Every morning, he gets up and tries to reassure himself that he's okay, that he's got work to do that no one else can...now that Jordan isn't around to do it.
And he has to remind himself that this is a gift, being a 4400, being chosen to save the world. One day, people will thank them, and he will be able to rest easy in satisfaction that he did what was foisted upon him. He'll do his duty because it means something. Jordan acts - had acted - like it was a blessing, not a curse, but Shawn thinks it could well be both. A blessing upon the world, or at least those he cures, but a curse upon himself and his family. Or maybe he's the one who's cursed. He can't decide, but it barely matters. As Matthew has shown him, he doesn't have a choice - that was taken away the minute Jordan was, never to be returned.