Title: Alone [Stargate: Universe]
Title: Alone
Word Count: 1002
Challenge: smallfandomfest Round 15: Stargate: Universe, Scott, didn't get much sleep last night
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Scott
Summary: After the events of Time Scott can’t help be remember all the times he’s been alone.
Author's Notes: So not what I had tried to write but my other ideas all got stuck and then I rewatched the first few episodes and this idea happened. Just under the wire.
‘Why is this happening?’
That was all he could think as he stumbled into the old church.
Leaning into one of the wooden pews he ran his hand over his face, then wiping his now damp hand over his hair, drying it and sending his school ball cap to the floor. It was joined second later when his school bag, half slung over a single arm, now gone limp, slumped to the stone floor next to it with a thunk.
The sound echoed and filled the space. Louder then it had any right to be. Just like the sob that followed it.
His whole body convulsively as the young man let out another sob. Propelling himself forward to the next row of pews he looked up at the crucifix resting at the front of the church “WHY,” He yelled. Glaring at the carved image of Jesus. “Why does he have to die?” he called out again.
The heavy sound of his footfalls the only sound as he approached the cross, waiting for an answer. “Why do you have to take everything?” He demanded to know. His voice dropping, no longer echoing, losing its sonority but no any of its harshness. “Why him too, weren’t they enough?”
He remembers the cold and rain. The sound of screeching and screaming. The fear and confusion of being trapped in the car. Of seeing the dropping water turn red and his father’s voice grow soft before stopping all together.
He remembers the men in uniforms taking him away, carrying him and poking him. Not letting him have his mother or father no matter now much he cried for them…of being told they were with God now by the man dressed all in black. Being told that he would have a new home.
He remembers being told he wouldn’t be alone.
“Wasn’t taking them good enough?” he questioned. The alter and it crucifix growing blurrier with each ragged breathe “Why does everyone around me…”
The escaping sob cut off his question even as he pitched forward. Hunching over the first bench, letting out a broken breath even as drops of water splashed into the polished floor.
“Why was I ever going to…is this my punishment? Is he dying because I rejected your calling, because I wasn’t strong enough?” he asked, looking back up at Jesus. Clearing his eyes as he stepped closer, his legs shaky and uneven.
Slowly he made his way forward, dropping to his knees, “I just couldn’t. Not after she and I…I couldn’t even hold out and keep my vow for a year. I couldn’t make it, you can’t punish him for my weakness. I’m the one that got Annie…” he stopped the swallowed hard and he looked down and away from the crucifix.
Guilt flooded him, dropping him to his knees. Slowly lifting his eyes to the bottom of the cross before guilt washed through himself., “She didn’t keep it. She killed our child and I didn’t even try and…I was relieved. God please don’t. Please don’t take him from me because I let her,” he pleaded as he pulled out his rosary, wrapping it around his hand. “Please don’t take him, not like this, not because…” He took a breath, looking at the beads in his hand “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name-“
He remembered how pale the Father looked.
He remembered trying to count the number of wires, tubes and…things attached to his guardian. He blamed that on being pulled out of math. On being in the middle of trying to figure out those damn polynomials and being thrilled when he was told that Father Carmichael wanted to see him.
He remembered how hard it was to breathe when Father Carmichael told him that the Father had collapsed, that he had been rushed to the hospital…he remembered how hopeless he felt when the doctor told him the Father wasn’t likely to live, wasn’t likely to even wake up for him to say….anything. That he should say his good byes.
He remembered how he felt when they said he’s be alone…again
“-we forgive those who trespass against us…” Matthew let out a sigh as he opened his eyes again, looking up at the makeshift altar he and a few of the others aboard the Destiny had put together.
The beads of his rosary slowly slipped through the loosening grip of his fingers as he looked away from the cross and out the windows and at the blue streaks stars of FTL flying by.
“Why am I always alone? Why do I always end up alone?” Matt asked aloud, pressing his hand to the glass. Feeling the hum of the ship.
“Even in other timelines, other places…why am I always the last one standing?” Matt repeated, looking down at his rosary even as he sank down to the bench.
Matt slowly unwrapped the beads from around his hand then carefully coiling it up before slipping it back into his pocket.
Rubbing his now empty hand together he stood again, pacing the chamber, unable to keep the memories at bay any better here then he had back in his room, memories of being alone.
He remembered walking into the Mother Superior office just before he turned 18. He remembers being told he couldn’t stay at the group home any longer. That they couldn’t help him, that he couldn’t stay.
He remembers taking the grants and scholarships that would take his as far from them as he could get, if they didn’t want him he didn’t want them.
He remembered seeing the ROCT cadets. Strangers to each other but…they weren’t. They weren’t alone, no matter where they went they always seemed to have another cadet beside them.
He remembered wanting that. Sighing up for that
Matt let out a deep breath and started walking toward the mess. It was almost time for breakfast. Maybe he can find someone to join him on a run, at least then he won’t be alone.
Word Count: 1002
Challenge: smallfandomfest Round 15: Stargate: Universe, Scott, didn't get much sleep last night
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Scott
Summary: After the events of Time Scott can’t help be remember all the times he’s been alone.
Author's Notes: So not what I had tried to write but my other ideas all got stuck and then I rewatched the first few episodes and this idea happened. Just under the wire.
‘Why is this happening?’
That was all he could think as he stumbled into the old church.
Leaning into one of the wooden pews he ran his hand over his face, then wiping his now damp hand over his hair, drying it and sending his school ball cap to the floor. It was joined second later when his school bag, half slung over a single arm, now gone limp, slumped to the stone floor next to it with a thunk.
The sound echoed and filled the space. Louder then it had any right to be. Just like the sob that followed it.
His whole body convulsively as the young man let out another sob. Propelling himself forward to the next row of pews he looked up at the crucifix resting at the front of the church “WHY,” He yelled. Glaring at the carved image of Jesus. “Why does he have to die?” he called out again.
The heavy sound of his footfalls the only sound as he approached the cross, waiting for an answer. “Why do you have to take everything?” He demanded to know. His voice dropping, no longer echoing, losing its sonority but no any of its harshness. “Why him too, weren’t they enough?”
He remembers the cold and rain. The sound of screeching and screaming. The fear and confusion of being trapped in the car. Of seeing the dropping water turn red and his father’s voice grow soft before stopping all together.
He remembers the men in uniforms taking him away, carrying him and poking him. Not letting him have his mother or father no matter now much he cried for them…of being told they were with God now by the man dressed all in black. Being told that he would have a new home.
He remembers being told he wouldn’t be alone.
“Wasn’t taking them good enough?” he questioned. The alter and it crucifix growing blurrier with each ragged breathe “Why does everyone around me…”
The escaping sob cut off his question even as he pitched forward. Hunching over the first bench, letting out a broken breath even as drops of water splashed into the polished floor.
“Why was I ever going to…is this my punishment? Is he dying because I rejected your calling, because I wasn’t strong enough?” he asked, looking back up at Jesus. Clearing his eyes as he stepped closer, his legs shaky and uneven.
Slowly he made his way forward, dropping to his knees, “I just couldn’t. Not after she and I…I couldn’t even hold out and keep my vow for a year. I couldn’t make it, you can’t punish him for my weakness. I’m the one that got Annie…” he stopped the swallowed hard and he looked down and away from the crucifix.
Guilt flooded him, dropping him to his knees. Slowly lifting his eyes to the bottom of the cross before guilt washed through himself., “She didn’t keep it. She killed our child and I didn’t even try and…I was relieved. God please don’t. Please don’t take him from me because I let her,” he pleaded as he pulled out his rosary, wrapping it around his hand. “Please don’t take him, not like this, not because…” He took a breath, looking at the beads in his hand “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name-“
He remembered how pale the Father looked.
He remembered trying to count the number of wires, tubes and…things attached to his guardian. He blamed that on being pulled out of math. On being in the middle of trying to figure out those damn polynomials and being thrilled when he was told that Father Carmichael wanted to see him.
He remembered how hard it was to breathe when Father Carmichael told him that the Father had collapsed, that he had been rushed to the hospital…he remembered how hopeless he felt when the doctor told him the Father wasn’t likely to live, wasn’t likely to even wake up for him to say….anything. That he should say his good byes.
He remembered how he felt when they said he’s be alone…again
“-we forgive those who trespass against us…” Matthew let out a sigh as he opened his eyes again, looking up at the makeshift altar he and a few of the others aboard the Destiny had put together.
The beads of his rosary slowly slipped through the loosening grip of his fingers as he looked away from the cross and out the windows and at the blue streaks stars of FTL flying by.
“Why am I always alone? Why do I always end up alone?” Matt asked aloud, pressing his hand to the glass. Feeling the hum of the ship.
“Even in other timelines, other places…why am I always the last one standing?” Matt repeated, looking down at his rosary even as he sank down to the bench.
Matt slowly unwrapped the beads from around his hand then carefully coiling it up before slipping it back into his pocket.
Rubbing his now empty hand together he stood again, pacing the chamber, unable to keep the memories at bay any better here then he had back in his room, memories of being alone.
He remembered walking into the Mother Superior office just before he turned 18. He remembers being told he couldn’t stay at the group home any longer. That they couldn’t help him, that he couldn’t stay.
He remembers taking the grants and scholarships that would take his as far from them as he could get, if they didn’t want him he didn’t want them.
He remembered seeing the ROCT cadets. Strangers to each other but…they weren’t. They weren’t alone, no matter where they went they always seemed to have another cadet beside them.
He remembered wanting that. Sighing up for that
Matt let out a deep breath and started walking toward the mess. It was almost time for breakfast. Maybe he can find someone to join him on a run, at least then he won’t be alone.