The Underpinnings Crying Game Slash Fic PG
The Underpinnings
by mispel
Two thousand three hundred and thirty-five days. And nights that go along with them. It seemed to Fergus that those should be counted separately. With the hard bunk under him and nothing to look at except the dark, Fergus had plenty of time to think, try to set things right in his head. These things wouldn't sit right no matter how he turned them. But they turned and turned like his head was a cement mixer, couldn't stop, nothing else to do most times. Jody had asked the man who would execute him to take care of his lover? Who'd do a thing like that? An answer came to him in the dark like Jody's good-natured face. There was no one else to ask, was there. Jody would have to come back from the dead to do it.
Fergus saw Jody smile. That cunning smile. Jody wasn't all soft and harmless. He wasn't a fool. He was a clever sod. When Jody sent him to Dil, he was baiting a trap.
"Here's a picture of my girl. Isn't she lovely? Go to her."
Jody served him up. Why not send him with a letter of introduction?
"Here he is, love, the man who killed me. I asked him to take care of you. But you'll take care of him, won't you. Love, Jody."
And Dil did take care of him. Dil took good care of him. She tied him to the bed. She shot Jude. Then she was merciful. Or did she even know the word?
Dil had the gun on him and she said, "He won't let me."
"He won't let you what, Dil?"
"He won't let me get you off that easy."
Dil took care of him, delivered him to prison where he belonged. Everyone played their part so things could fall out neatly just as they should. No use turning them over now. Things were sitting right after all.
Fergus shut his eyes tight because he knew the next question that was coming. They always followed one another like that. Jody, Dil, then him. Jody saying, "Catch me." Dil saying "Darling." And Fergus asking "Why?"
"What about you, Fergus? Why'd you do it?"
What moved Fergus to this? Did a catholic boy's need to atone for his sins land him in this place? Or did he finally do what Jody asked him to do - take care of Dil. Fergus, the man of his word, just fulfilling his promise. Proving he wasn't useless. Nothing more.
It wasn't any of that rubbish, or he'd be sleeping now wouldn't he. He'd be sleeping the sleep of the rightly punished, the sleep of the man who'd done his duty. It was something else, wasn't it? Maybe Fergus threw himself on the sword to be in here with glass between them, safe away from her... him. Fergus wasn't afraid of her. Nothing wrong with her. She was just right, he'd known that from the first time he met her. It was him, the one underneath, the one who was calling to him through her clothes and her makeup. The one Fergus had uncovered, the one he was in here to hide from ... protect ... hide from ... protect ...
The end
by mispel
Two thousand three hundred and thirty-five days. And nights that go along with them. It seemed to Fergus that those should be counted separately. With the hard bunk under him and nothing to look at except the dark, Fergus had plenty of time to think, try to set things right in his head. These things wouldn't sit right no matter how he turned them. But they turned and turned like his head was a cement mixer, couldn't stop, nothing else to do most times. Jody had asked the man who would execute him to take care of his lover? Who'd do a thing like that? An answer came to him in the dark like Jody's good-natured face. There was no one else to ask, was there. Jody would have to come back from the dead to do it.
Fergus saw Jody smile. That cunning smile. Jody wasn't all soft and harmless. He wasn't a fool. He was a clever sod. When Jody sent him to Dil, he was baiting a trap.
"Here's a picture of my girl. Isn't she lovely? Go to her."
Jody served him up. Why not send him with a letter of introduction?
"Here he is, love, the man who killed me. I asked him to take care of you. But you'll take care of him, won't you. Love, Jody."
And Dil did take care of him. Dil took good care of him. She tied him to the bed. She shot Jude. Then she was merciful. Or did she even know the word?
Dil had the gun on him and she said, "He won't let me."
"He won't let you what, Dil?"
"He won't let me get you off that easy."
Dil took care of him, delivered him to prison where he belonged. Everyone played their part so things could fall out neatly just as they should. No use turning them over now. Things were sitting right after all.
Fergus shut his eyes tight because he knew the next question that was coming. They always followed one another like that. Jody, Dil, then him. Jody saying, "Catch me." Dil saying "Darling." And Fergus asking "Why?"
"What about you, Fergus? Why'd you do it?"
What moved Fergus to this? Did a catholic boy's need to atone for his sins land him in this place? Or did he finally do what Jody asked him to do - take care of Dil. Fergus, the man of his word, just fulfilling his promise. Proving he wasn't useless. Nothing more.
It wasn't any of that rubbish, or he'd be sleeping now wouldn't he. He'd be sleeping the sleep of the rightly punished, the sleep of the man who'd done his duty. It was something else, wasn't it? Maybe Fergus threw himself on the sword to be in here with glass between them, safe away from her... him. Fergus wasn't afraid of her. Nothing wrong with her. She was just right, he'd known that from the first time he met her. It was him, the one underneath, the one who was calling to him through her clothes and her makeup. The one Fergus had uncovered, the one he was in here to hide from ... protect ... hide from ... protect ...
The end