Deliberate Lies: Little Boy Lost
What? Huh? Rinny wrote fic?!
Yes, yes, it is true. I've been poking at this since
earthwhatwere posted her last Web chapter to Deliberate Lies. Paul was a bastardy bastard though and I've had to rewrite and edit and so if this sounds nothing at all like Paul... I blame him entirely.
I hope and wish and PRAY that as things settle down here in Seattle, I'll be writing more. There's a double edged sword though, living downstairs from your friends, in that they pop in and want to do things. Which is good for the very sad pathetic social life...but bad for the very fun and addictive fandom life. I'm still working on finding the balance.
So...in the mean time:
Title: Little Boy Lost, Ch 11
Series: Deliberate Lies
Author: Rinny
Fandom: The Inside
Word Count: 1087
Notes: Paul's POV. And I apologize if it sucks. I blame Paul, he didn't make it easy.
Paul still reports for duty every day like normal. There are still cases unsolved and cases yet to be solved and cases that he thinks may never be solved. But he comes in and he sits at his desk and he works on them.
It’s not particularly good work, but it’s work. It keeps his mind busy. And he doesn’t know what else to do.
It’s been near a week since Danny’s multiple operations and he still only catches glimpses of the others. Mel’s been in only once, to grab some things from her desk and be gone again. He’d feel guilty for being glad he doesn’t have to talk with her, but he doesn’t feel much of anything.
He knows Web is in his office. He comes and goes through the side door and Paul’s glad, because as much as he craves a confrontation with the man, he doesn’t have half a clue what the outcome will be. The options are bad and worse and Paul just doesn’t know if he’s braced for the impact. Or if he’d care to be.
Rebecca comes in sporadically. He watches her flit from the break room to her desk to Carter’s and back again. He stares at her like she’s a puzzle he can figure out if he just looks hard enough. He knows it makes her squirm he just can’t bring himself to care. She usually leaves within an hour and he doesn’t wonder where she goes.
It’s not the hospital because Mel’s still standing guard like a mama bear and he’d have heard if Rebecca had tried to breach Danny’s sanctity.
He doesn’t wonder if she’ll try anyway.
Paul spends a lot of time not wondering. He stays focused on the cases that wait on his desk and doesn’t think about Danny and Rebecca and Mel and Web. What they did or what they’re going to do or who’s fault it is. He doesn’t think about what it means that he cares. Or doesn’t care.
He’s had more headaches this week than his entire life.
He and Carter went out for drinks the third night after the rescue. It was his idea and he figures the only reason Carter agreed was pity. He doesn’t remember anything after the sixth rum and coke, and he was hung over for two days. Carter looked at him a little strangely the day after and Paul wondered what exactly he’d said that night that left him feeling sick down to the pit of his stomach even after the hangover.
He visits Danny regularly. Despite the fuzzy edge of narcotics, Danny always looks glad to see him. But Paul thinks that might just be relief that he’s not alone with Mel anymore. They’ve always been close, Paul had even been jealous of it more than a time or two, but he can see now how it weighs on Danny, trying to live up to her expectations and knowing he’d somehow failed her.
Danny needs her there. She’s a source of strength more than anything. Their friendship will persevere through the worst of this. It’s about the only thing Paul’s confident of.
Danny’s not so sure. He doesn’t say so, but Paul knows.
That’s how it’s always been between them. They don’t always agree, and they don’t always like one another, but Paul and Danny have always understood each other.
And maybe that’s why Danny’s glad to see Paul. Because they both looked at Rebecca and saw something more.
Paul doesn’t know what exactly happened between Rebecca and Danny and he tries not to think too hard about it because something deep inside him starts to burn. He extinguishes whatever it is before it can rage out of control. He’s been squelching it for so long, that it’s become second nature.
He strikes him on a daily basis that now may be the time to let it purge, lance the infection and let it bleed and leave nothing behind but a scar. He squelches that thought too.
Existence is a fragile thing. Even Karen knows what a thin line they tread. They don’t talk and they don’t make love. They barely even see each other. It will blow over, he thinks, when everything’s back to normal, it’ll get better.
He’s so far from normal now, that if he can’t even imagine it.
Walking into the hospital, it strikes him that he doesn’t recognize himself. He’s hollow and tired. So very, very tired. Tired of thinking and wondering and working. Tired of going through the motions because he doesn’t know what else to do. Tired of the empty feeling inside when he knows he should feel something. Anything.
He wonders if he’ll be any good to Virgil Webster with his compassion gone.
The answer makes him smile.
Turning the corner on the third floor, Paul sees a flash of blond hovering at the nurses desk. He stops, sliding his hands into his pockets, knowing he should be amused at the picture in front of him. The nurse in colorful scrubs looking nervously back and forth from Rebecca’s gun to her face and the agitated flutter of her hands near her weapon. He should be amused.
He’s not.
Looking up, she sees him and instantly goes still. Paul still doesn’t care.
She looks around and he imagines she’s trying to find some place to hide from the guilt. He doesn’t want to wonder what she feels guilty for. How much she did. Or didn’t do. What she said or should have done. How far she would have gone if it hadn’t happened like this.
The questions pop into his mind reflexively but he doesn’t want the answers. Not really.
Her eyes finally give in and meet his.
Don’t tell Mel.
Staring at her, Paul feels a spark.
A something.
It hurts, but it’s warm too and it coats his insides so he’s a little less empty.
The muscles in his face ache a little when he smiles at her.
Leaving her there, he crosses the few feet to Danny’s room, checking to see that he slept. Coming back to Rebecca, he steered her out of sight. He left her there and smiled at the bewilderment painting the haunted hollows of her face.
“Ten minutes. It’s all I can promise.”
He leaves her there and goes to fetch Mel for some fresh coffee and what passes for food in the hospital cafeteria.
When they come back, Danny’s still sleeping, Rebecca’s gone and Paul…
Paul doesn’t care.
Yes, yes, it is true. I've been poking at this since
earthwhatwere posted her last Web chapter to Deliberate Lies. Paul was a bastardy bastard though and I've had to rewrite and edit and so if this sounds nothing at all like Paul... I blame him entirely.
I hope and wish and PRAY that as things settle down here in Seattle, I'll be writing more. There's a double edged sword though, living downstairs from your friends, in that they pop in and want to do things. Which is good for the very sad pathetic social life...but bad for the very fun and addictive fandom life. I'm still working on finding the balance.
So...in the mean time:
Title: Little Boy Lost, Ch 11
Series: Deliberate Lies
Author: Rinny
Fandom: The Inside
Word Count: 1087
Notes: Paul's POV. And I apologize if it sucks. I blame Paul, he didn't make it easy.
Paul still reports for duty every day like normal. There are still cases unsolved and cases yet to be solved and cases that he thinks may never be solved. But he comes in and he sits at his desk and he works on them.
It’s not particularly good work, but it’s work. It keeps his mind busy. And he doesn’t know what else to do.
It’s been near a week since Danny’s multiple operations and he still only catches glimpses of the others. Mel’s been in only once, to grab some things from her desk and be gone again. He’d feel guilty for being glad he doesn’t have to talk with her, but he doesn’t feel much of anything.
He knows Web is in his office. He comes and goes through the side door and Paul’s glad, because as much as he craves a confrontation with the man, he doesn’t have half a clue what the outcome will be. The options are bad and worse and Paul just doesn’t know if he’s braced for the impact. Or if he’d care to be.
Rebecca comes in sporadically. He watches her flit from the break room to her desk to Carter’s and back again. He stares at her like she’s a puzzle he can figure out if he just looks hard enough. He knows it makes her squirm he just can’t bring himself to care. She usually leaves within an hour and he doesn’t wonder where she goes.
It’s not the hospital because Mel’s still standing guard like a mama bear and he’d have heard if Rebecca had tried to breach Danny’s sanctity.
He doesn’t wonder if she’ll try anyway.
Paul spends a lot of time not wondering. He stays focused on the cases that wait on his desk and doesn’t think about Danny and Rebecca and Mel and Web. What they did or what they’re going to do or who’s fault it is. He doesn’t think about what it means that he cares. Or doesn’t care.
He’s had more headaches this week than his entire life.
He and Carter went out for drinks the third night after the rescue. It was his idea and he figures the only reason Carter agreed was pity. He doesn’t remember anything after the sixth rum and coke, and he was hung over for two days. Carter looked at him a little strangely the day after and Paul wondered what exactly he’d said that night that left him feeling sick down to the pit of his stomach even after the hangover.
He visits Danny regularly. Despite the fuzzy edge of narcotics, Danny always looks glad to see him. But Paul thinks that might just be relief that he’s not alone with Mel anymore. They’ve always been close, Paul had even been jealous of it more than a time or two, but he can see now how it weighs on Danny, trying to live up to her expectations and knowing he’d somehow failed her.
Danny needs her there. She’s a source of strength more than anything. Their friendship will persevere through the worst of this. It’s about the only thing Paul’s confident of.
Danny’s not so sure. He doesn’t say so, but Paul knows.
That’s how it’s always been between them. They don’t always agree, and they don’t always like one another, but Paul and Danny have always understood each other.
And maybe that’s why Danny’s glad to see Paul. Because they both looked at Rebecca and saw something more.
Paul doesn’t know what exactly happened between Rebecca and Danny and he tries not to think too hard about it because something deep inside him starts to burn. He extinguishes whatever it is before it can rage out of control. He’s been squelching it for so long, that it’s become second nature.
He strikes him on a daily basis that now may be the time to let it purge, lance the infection and let it bleed and leave nothing behind but a scar. He squelches that thought too.
Existence is a fragile thing. Even Karen knows what a thin line they tread. They don’t talk and they don’t make love. They barely even see each other. It will blow over, he thinks, when everything’s back to normal, it’ll get better.
He’s so far from normal now, that if he can’t even imagine it.
Walking into the hospital, it strikes him that he doesn’t recognize himself. He’s hollow and tired. So very, very tired. Tired of thinking and wondering and working. Tired of going through the motions because he doesn’t know what else to do. Tired of the empty feeling inside when he knows he should feel something. Anything.
He wonders if he’ll be any good to Virgil Webster with his compassion gone.
The answer makes him smile.
Turning the corner on the third floor, Paul sees a flash of blond hovering at the nurses desk. He stops, sliding his hands into his pockets, knowing he should be amused at the picture in front of him. The nurse in colorful scrubs looking nervously back and forth from Rebecca’s gun to her face and the agitated flutter of her hands near her weapon. He should be amused.
He’s not.
Looking up, she sees him and instantly goes still. Paul still doesn’t care.
She looks around and he imagines she’s trying to find some place to hide from the guilt. He doesn’t want to wonder what she feels guilty for. How much she did. Or didn’t do. What she said or should have done. How far she would have gone if it hadn’t happened like this.
The questions pop into his mind reflexively but he doesn’t want the answers. Not really.
Her eyes finally give in and meet his.
Don’t tell Mel.
Staring at her, Paul feels a spark.
A something.
It hurts, but it’s warm too and it coats his insides so he’s a little less empty.
The muscles in his face ache a little when he smiles at her.
Leaving her there, he crosses the few feet to Danny’s room, checking to see that he slept. Coming back to Rebecca, he steered her out of sight. He left her there and smiled at the bewilderment painting the haunted hollows of her face.
“Ten minutes. It’s all I can promise.”
He leaves her there and goes to fetch Mel for some fresh coffee and what passes for food in the hospital cafeteria.
When they come back, Danny’s still sleeping, Rebecca’s gone and Paul…
Paul doesn’t care.