To Old Ghosts (00Silva)
Title: To Old Ghosts
Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: 00Silva aka Bond/Silva
Rating: PG
Word Count: 317
Summary: Bond celebrates New Years. Set after Skyfall. No AU.
A/N: Full steam ahead. I wanted something happy, wrote angst instead. Happy New Years 00Silva fandom!
There was something empty about this New Years Eve. As the day dragged on into night James felt loneliness and emptiness creep into him like the London night chill. He had done his duty, had saved England and killed the villain. He felt then that he should feel better. Queen and Country was safe. But he could not muster up any sort of happiness.
He was truly was the last rat, and he felt it. Looking back he felt a bit of a fool. Out of anyone, out of everyone, Silva understood him. And James, he had… it had been the only thing to do. The knife in the back.
He opened the door to his small apartment and went to the liquor cabinet, pulled out some of his best scotch and a glass. He brought both over with him as he sunk into the chair. Filled the glass and knocked the drink back quickly. He sat there for god knows how long drinking himself into what he was sure was an early death. But he found he didn’t care anymore.
If he thought about it, he knew that he would have been able to come to love Silva. Under different circumstances. But life had been cruel.
He took another sip and gave a halfhearted cheer with his glass into the darkness. For a moment he was sure he saw Silva smiling at him. He blinked for a moment, tried to clear his vision of that man. But Silva remained.
Logically he knew that Silva could not be standing in front of him. He had been there to see Silva get carted off in the body bag after all. And yet…
He took another sip and let himself slip into fantasy, after all, did not deserve this? When Silva moved, stroked up his leg so familiarly, he did not struggle. Instead he leaned into the ghost’s touch.
Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: 00Silva aka Bond/Silva
Rating: PG
Word Count: 317
Summary: Bond celebrates New Years. Set after Skyfall. No AU.
A/N: Full steam ahead. I wanted something happy, wrote angst instead. Happy New Years 00Silva fandom!
There was something empty about this New Years Eve. As the day dragged on into night James felt loneliness and emptiness creep into him like the London night chill. He had done his duty, had saved England and killed the villain. He felt then that he should feel better. Queen and Country was safe. But he could not muster up any sort of happiness.
He was truly was the last rat, and he felt it. Looking back he felt a bit of a fool. Out of anyone, out of everyone, Silva understood him. And James, he had… it had been the only thing to do. The knife in the back.
He opened the door to his small apartment and went to the liquor cabinet, pulled out some of his best scotch and a glass. He brought both over with him as he sunk into the chair. Filled the glass and knocked the drink back quickly. He sat there for god knows how long drinking himself into what he was sure was an early death. But he found he didn’t care anymore.
If he thought about it, he knew that he would have been able to come to love Silva. Under different circumstances. But life had been cruel.
He took another sip and gave a halfhearted cheer with his glass into the darkness. For a moment he was sure he saw Silva smiling at him. He blinked for a moment, tried to clear his vision of that man. But Silva remained.
Logically he knew that Silva could not be standing in front of him. He had been there to see Silva get carted off in the body bag after all. And yet…
He took another sip and let himself slip into fantasy, after all, did not deserve this? When Silva moved, stroked up his leg so familiarly, he did not struggle. Instead he leaned into the ghost’s touch.