Fic: Priceless
“‘It isn't that I don't think you should go through with it,’ he said, using all of his courage to keep eye contact with her. ‘It's that I think you should wait for science to catch up with you.’”
~
“It had hit her earlier in the evening that, no matter what kind of surgery she had, she would never, could never, have children of her own, not really.”
-“What It Means to Be”
Grelle is crying.
Oh, William is used to her theatrics by now. But this-this is something different altogether. He’s known her long enough to be able to distinguish between her flare for the dramatic and genuine tears. He’s lived with her, been married to her, long enough to know that, beneath her melodramatic, and sometimes hysterical, exterior, Grelle is a strong, proud woman. She’s not the type to break down at the slightest provocation. She would much rather use her precious illegally-modified Death Scythe to take out whatever or whoever had the audacity to upset her than play the weeping damsel in distress. In fact, during the entire time he’s known her, he has never seen her like this.
Grelle is crying, and it scares him.
William has never been a good comforter. He’s spent too much of his existence wrapped up in emotionless rules to be one. Grelle teases him sometimes and says it her self-appointed mission in life to change that, but deep down he thinks she’s still got a long ways to go.
Grelle is crying, and he’s not sure why.
Well, he has some idea. He had accidentally heard a portion of Grelle’s telephone conversation with Knox earlier. She has brought up the same subject with him before, usually when they are breathless, drenched in sweat, and tangled in each other’s limbs, and his answer has always been the same. Be patient.
Grelle is crying, buried deep in a pile of blood-red bedding, her arms wrapped tightly around his pillow, and he can’t stand it.
Coming to a decision, William eases the bedroom door open and slips inside. He sheds his shoes and jacket and slides down in bed beside his wife. She doesn’t give any indication of noticing his presence at first, but after a moment, she wiggles back into him somewhat. He puts his arm around her, hugging her to him, and she bring his hand up to her mouth and kisses it.
“William…”
“Humans are amazing beings, Grelle,” he starts, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He has to begin somewhere. “Don’t you agree? Look at everything they’ve accomplished during their time on this planet. Look at the advances they’ve made. Even within the last hundred years or so, they have made incredible discoveries and invented wonderful technologies.”
“Will?” she whispers in confusion. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going with this either, to be honest.
“Think about it, Grelle: automobiles, airplanes, cell phones. The Internet.” He nudges her gently with this hip. “Chainsaws.”
Grelle laughs softly, which makes him a bit more confident. “And they’ve made our job a little harder as well, haven’t they, with all these new drugs and medical procedures that allow the human race to live longer, healthier lives.”
William pauses and lets her just breathe for a moment while he tries to get his words in order. She’s stopped crying for the most part, but he can still feel the occasional tear or two land on the back of his hand.
When the moment is over, he extricates his hand from hers and rests it on one of her breasts. “Humans have figured this out,” he says. His hand glides down to the apex of her thighs. “They’ve even figured this out. Be patient,” he continues, pressing his palm lightly into the soft flesh just below her waist, “and give the humans some more time to figure this one out as well, Grelle.”
He hears her choke out a sob, feels her cover his hand with hers, and it frightens him. He shouldn’t have said anything, he’s only made it worse, oh God, must he always-?
She turns over in his arms and kisses him, his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth, and tucks her head under his chin. In a small, tear-soaked voice, she whispers, “I love you so, so much, William,” and says nothing else.
But Grelle is still crying, and William would give anything in the world to make it stop.
~
“It had hit her earlier in the evening that, no matter what kind of surgery she had, she would never, could never, have children of her own, not really.”
-“What It Means to Be”
Grelle is crying.
Oh, William is used to her theatrics by now. But this-this is something different altogether. He’s known her long enough to be able to distinguish between her flare for the dramatic and genuine tears. He’s lived with her, been married to her, long enough to know that, beneath her melodramatic, and sometimes hysterical, exterior, Grelle is a strong, proud woman. She’s not the type to break down at the slightest provocation. She would much rather use her precious illegally-modified Death Scythe to take out whatever or whoever had the audacity to upset her than play the weeping damsel in distress. In fact, during the entire time he’s known her, he has never seen her like this.
Grelle is crying, and it scares him.
William has never been a good comforter. He’s spent too much of his existence wrapped up in emotionless rules to be one. Grelle teases him sometimes and says it her self-appointed mission in life to change that, but deep down he thinks she’s still got a long ways to go.
Grelle is crying, and he’s not sure why.
Well, he has some idea. He had accidentally heard a portion of Grelle’s telephone conversation with Knox earlier. She has brought up the same subject with him before, usually when they are breathless, drenched in sweat, and tangled in each other’s limbs, and his answer has always been the same. Be patient.
Grelle is crying, buried deep in a pile of blood-red bedding, her arms wrapped tightly around his pillow, and he can’t stand it.
Coming to a decision, William eases the bedroom door open and slips inside. He sheds his shoes and jacket and slides down in bed beside his wife. She doesn’t give any indication of noticing his presence at first, but after a moment, she wiggles back into him somewhat. He puts his arm around her, hugging her to him, and she bring his hand up to her mouth and kisses it.
“William…”
“Humans are amazing beings, Grelle,” he starts, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He has to begin somewhere. “Don’t you agree? Look at everything they’ve accomplished during their time on this planet. Look at the advances they’ve made. Even within the last hundred years or so, they have made incredible discoveries and invented wonderful technologies.”
“Will?” she whispers in confusion. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going with this either, to be honest.
“Think about it, Grelle: automobiles, airplanes, cell phones. The Internet.” He nudges her gently with this hip. “Chainsaws.”
Grelle laughs softly, which makes him a bit more confident. “And they’ve made our job a little harder as well, haven’t they, with all these new drugs and medical procedures that allow the human race to live longer, healthier lives.”
William pauses and lets her just breathe for a moment while he tries to get his words in order. She’s stopped crying for the most part, but he can still feel the occasional tear or two land on the back of his hand.
When the moment is over, he extricates his hand from hers and rests it on one of her breasts. “Humans have figured this out,” he says. His hand glides down to the apex of her thighs. “They’ve even figured this out. Be patient,” he continues, pressing his palm lightly into the soft flesh just below her waist, “and give the humans some more time to figure this one out as well, Grelle.”
He hears her choke out a sob, feels her cover his hand with hers, and it frightens him. He shouldn’t have said anything, he’s only made it worse, oh God, must he always-?
She turns over in his arms and kisses him, his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth, and tucks her head under his chin. In a small, tear-soaked voice, she whispers, “I love you so, so much, William,” and says nothing else.
But Grelle is still crying, and William would give anything in the world to make it stop.