Sleeping With This Silence
Fandom: Only By the Dawn
Pairing: Oliver/Jael
Word Count: 1,173
“If I had to be killed, I’m glad it’s you, Ollie. I wasn’t brave enough to do it on my own.”
“No! Fight me! Don’t make me do this!” Oliver cried, angry and bitter tears streaming down his dirty bloodstained face as he pointed the gun with the UV bullets at his brother, Erik. Or at least it used to be his brother. “Pick up a fuckin’ gun! Pick up a fuckin’ knife! Fight me, goddamnit!”
“Shoot me,” Erik shrugged, letting his weapon fall to the floor. “Come on, little bro.”
“Pick up the fuckin’ gun,” Oliver said slowly, gesturing to it with his own. Fighting and killing a vampire was one thing, killing his undead and unarmed brother was another.
Erik shook his head. “I shoulda let this happen long ago. Be the hero, Ollie. Shoot the bad guy.”
“Pick up the gun!” Oliver yelled.
“You’re wastin’ time,” Erik said sadly and he gestured over to where Jael lay injured on the floor, her wound bleeding profusely. “The longer you argue with me, the more blood she loses. Would you let a comrade die in war if you had the chance to save her?”
“Shut up!” Oliver screamed over the din outside and the unbearable pounding in his own head and chest.
“It’s gotta be me or her, Ollie, but it can’t be both.”
Oliver looked over at Jael. Her hand was weakly pressed against the wound in her side and her head lolled against the wall she was sitting up against.
“I’m askin’ ya, not as a vampire or an enemy, but your big bro. I wiped your nose and helped with ya homework and I love you. And if you love me, too, you’ll put me out of this misery, Oliver. Shoot me and it’ll be quick. I’ll burst into pieces and be done with.”
Oliver’s dark blue eyes met the identical pair of his brothers.
He pulled the trigger.
Oliver sat up in his bed in a cold sweat with a strangled cry. His heart pounded and he half expected Erik to still be there, but he wasn’t. And Jael wasn’t either because Oliver refused to see anyone. He knew that after he shot his brother and watched him burst and burn he had picked up Jael from the floor and carried her out to safety. They had been treated by medics and later taken to the clinic when they returned to Dresden, but he had left before she was released. He was a hero after their mission, but at what cost?
He hadn’t wanted to fuck or drink or celebrate. He had just wanted to shower and sleep for years, had even snapped at Elliott and though it made him feel bad to shut Elliott out, he wanted to. He didn’t want anyone near.
He was just poison.
*** *** *** *** ***
Elliott didn’t usually care enough about anyone else to try to help them if he saw that they were hurt. It wasn’t that he was cruel; he was just so spacey and caught up in his own things most of the time. With Oliver, it was hard to miss now that he hadn’t left his bedroom in 2 weeks. Elliott would have thought that maybe he had a ladyfriend in there with him (Oliver had once stayed in his bedroom for a week straight and the only sign of life had been the steady procession of women that came and went), but things were too quiet and Oliver had been too changed when he had returned from his last mission.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” Elliott solemnly greeted the statuesque brunette at the front door of the suite he and Oliver shared. Worry was new for him and he couldn’t say that he was enjoying it. No wonder he had been numbing himself with drugs, but there was no way that he could just ignore Oliver. He just didn’t know what to do and he needed someone who did - that was why he had called Jael.
“No problem,” Jael shrugged, stepping inside. She too was worried about Oliver. Oliver wasn’t usually the sort of person you needed to worry about. Well, not for disappearing and being down on himself. Usually just for being impulsive, but not for being miserable. Then again, no one else knew what had happened out in the field - just the two of them. “Is he back in his bedroom?” she asked and Elliott nodded. She comfortingly squeezed his shoulder as she passed him to walk back to Oliver’s room.
She knocked sharply twice and when there was no answer she tried the door handle. Finding it unlocked, she let herself into his room.
She had expected Oliver to be wrapped up in bed, but he stood at his bedroom window, blankly looking out at the sun-dappled mountainside.
“Get out,” he said without turning to see who it was.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said, attempting a smile.
He turned slightly, but averted his gaze. “Get out,” he finally repeated.
Jael stepped further into the room and shut the door behind her. Oliver sighed deeply as if resigned to the fact that she was there and he couldn’t get rid of her.
She leaned her back against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest, watching him for a moment. “Talk to me, Oliver,” she said.
He was silent.
“You saved my life,” she tried again. “I . . . I know what it cost you.” She had been weakened from the attack and the blood loss, but she had heard the exchange between he and his brother.
Oliver closed his eyes as if steeling himself against her. “You don’t know,” he said quietly with a barely contained tremble to his voice that she had never heard before and suddenly it struck her - this was the Oliver that no one else had ever gotten close enough to see. He turned to her suddenly. “I - I,” he shook his head, making empty gestures with his hands as if he could just convey to her what it had been like, to hold the gun and watch his brother die and know that it was at his own hand. “I killed him. I’ve killed so many before, but I just - and I hesitated. Why did I do that?”
Unexpectedly, astoundingly and without warning he broke. His face crumbled and he turned away as the emotions that had plagued him through the nights but that he had managed to bottle up for not just weeks but years broke through. Jael was there in an instant, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt. Her body shook with the force of his quiet sobs.
He had saved her and now she would return the favor.
Pairing: Oliver/Jael
Word Count: 1,173
“If I had to be killed, I’m glad it’s you, Ollie. I wasn’t brave enough to do it on my own.”
“No! Fight me! Don’t make me do this!” Oliver cried, angry and bitter tears streaming down his dirty bloodstained face as he pointed the gun with the UV bullets at his brother, Erik. Or at least it used to be his brother. “Pick up a fuckin’ gun! Pick up a fuckin’ knife! Fight me, goddamnit!”
“Shoot me,” Erik shrugged, letting his weapon fall to the floor. “Come on, little bro.”
“Pick up the fuckin’ gun,” Oliver said slowly, gesturing to it with his own. Fighting and killing a vampire was one thing, killing his undead and unarmed brother was another.
Erik shook his head. “I shoulda let this happen long ago. Be the hero, Ollie. Shoot the bad guy.”
“Pick up the gun!” Oliver yelled.
“You’re wastin’ time,” Erik said sadly and he gestured over to where Jael lay injured on the floor, her wound bleeding profusely. “The longer you argue with me, the more blood she loses. Would you let a comrade die in war if you had the chance to save her?”
“Shut up!” Oliver screamed over the din outside and the unbearable pounding in his own head and chest.
“It’s gotta be me or her, Ollie, but it can’t be both.”
Oliver looked over at Jael. Her hand was weakly pressed against the wound in her side and her head lolled against the wall she was sitting up against.
“I’m askin’ ya, not as a vampire or an enemy, but your big bro. I wiped your nose and helped with ya homework and I love you. And if you love me, too, you’ll put me out of this misery, Oliver. Shoot me and it’ll be quick. I’ll burst into pieces and be done with.”
Oliver’s dark blue eyes met the identical pair of his brothers.
He pulled the trigger.
Oliver sat up in his bed in a cold sweat with a strangled cry. His heart pounded and he half expected Erik to still be there, but he wasn’t. And Jael wasn’t either because Oliver refused to see anyone. He knew that after he shot his brother and watched him burst and burn he had picked up Jael from the floor and carried her out to safety. They had been treated by medics and later taken to the clinic when they returned to Dresden, but he had left before she was released. He was a hero after their mission, but at what cost?
He hadn’t wanted to fuck or drink or celebrate. He had just wanted to shower and sleep for years, had even snapped at Elliott and though it made him feel bad to shut Elliott out, he wanted to. He didn’t want anyone near.
He was just poison.
*** *** *** *** ***
Elliott didn’t usually care enough about anyone else to try to help them if he saw that they were hurt. It wasn’t that he was cruel; he was just so spacey and caught up in his own things most of the time. With Oliver, it was hard to miss now that he hadn’t left his bedroom in 2 weeks. Elliott would have thought that maybe he had a ladyfriend in there with him (Oliver had once stayed in his bedroom for a week straight and the only sign of life had been the steady procession of women that came and went), but things were too quiet and Oliver had been too changed when he had returned from his last mission.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” Elliott solemnly greeted the statuesque brunette at the front door of the suite he and Oliver shared. Worry was new for him and he couldn’t say that he was enjoying it. No wonder he had been numbing himself with drugs, but there was no way that he could just ignore Oliver. He just didn’t know what to do and he needed someone who did - that was why he had called Jael.
“No problem,” Jael shrugged, stepping inside. She too was worried about Oliver. Oliver wasn’t usually the sort of person you needed to worry about. Well, not for disappearing and being down on himself. Usually just for being impulsive, but not for being miserable. Then again, no one else knew what had happened out in the field - just the two of them. “Is he back in his bedroom?” she asked and Elliott nodded. She comfortingly squeezed his shoulder as she passed him to walk back to Oliver’s room.
She knocked sharply twice and when there was no answer she tried the door handle. Finding it unlocked, she let herself into his room.
She had expected Oliver to be wrapped up in bed, but he stood at his bedroom window, blankly looking out at the sun-dappled mountainside.
“Get out,” he said without turning to see who it was.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said, attempting a smile.
He turned slightly, but averted his gaze. “Get out,” he finally repeated.
Jael stepped further into the room and shut the door behind her. Oliver sighed deeply as if resigned to the fact that she was there and he couldn’t get rid of her.
She leaned her back against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest, watching him for a moment. “Talk to me, Oliver,” she said.
He was silent.
“You saved my life,” she tried again. “I . . . I know what it cost you.” She had been weakened from the attack and the blood loss, but she had heard the exchange between he and his brother.
Oliver closed his eyes as if steeling himself against her. “You don’t know,” he said quietly with a barely contained tremble to his voice that she had never heard before and suddenly it struck her - this was the Oliver that no one else had ever gotten close enough to see. He turned to her suddenly. “I - I,” he shook his head, making empty gestures with his hands as if he could just convey to her what it had been like, to hold the gun and watch his brother die and know that it was at his own hand. “I killed him. I’ve killed so many before, but I just - and I hesitated. Why did I do that?”
Unexpectedly, astoundingly and without warning he broke. His face crumbled and he turned away as the emotions that had plagued him through the nights but that he had managed to bottle up for not just weeks but years broke through. Jael was there in an instant, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt. Her body shook with the force of his quiet sobs.
He had saved her and now she would return the favor.