Fanfic: What Can Hold Him
Title: What Can Hold Him
Fandom: Twilight
Character/Pairing: Garrett/Kate
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 946
Summary: It's years and years of lonesome travel and adventuring. Always acquaintances and never friendships, and live meals that don't have time to protest.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me.
Spoilers: Breaking Dawn
What memories he has are vague. A sea of bodies, a row of tents, a blur of faces, the feeling of the musket in his hands. But he remembers why he's there. That's not something he can easily forget.
And he remembers how it ends. It ends with a bayonet to the stomach, a blind pain. Collapsing in a field with smoke so thick he can't identify the body next to him or the hand in front of his face. Waiting to die, thinking it can't get any worse than this.
Until it does, out of nowhere. A sharp, fiery, white-hot burn that turns the bayonet into a paper cut. It's torture, some new form of suffering inflicted on him. He can't stop from screaming, thrashing, crying out for help, though there's no one there. It must be hell.
But it ends, and when he awakens, everything is loud like a thunder of cannons. Only his chest is quiet.
There's an ache in the back of his throat that he only identifies when he finds himself drinking the already spilt blood of his comrades in arms. Thirst, barely satisfied by the dried blood.
He doesn't understand what he's become, only knows that he wants something fresher.
He doesn't want to be a killer, though it seems like he has no choice. But Garrett is a soldier. He has his principles, and the only blood he will drink is that of the enemy.
*
He sticks around Boston for awhile. He wants to be there for the outcome, and there's really nowhere else to go. The years until the war ends are slow for everyone but him. He still doesn't understand himself, but he knows that he's not exactly alive anymore, and that time holds a different meaning for him now.
He hunts cautiously, crossing undetected into enemy territory. He picks them off stealthily, making sure that their numbers don't dwindle so low because of him that anyone will notice. It's just his little way of helping out his country.
But after the war is over, murder is a lot harder to justify.
He leaves Boston, but he doesn't return to his former home. He doesn't find a replacement, but he can live with that.
*
It's years and years of lonesome travel and adventuring. Always acquaintances and never friendships, and live meals that don't have time to protest.
He learns more about the history, the rules of his kind. Rules he had always followed anyway, somehow avoiding detection despite the haze and lust of being new.
He tries out coven after coven, but he can't stand any of them and always disappears without giving notice.
There's never been any place that could hold him, and he never expects to find one.
*
He observes the years passing and watches the growth of the country he fought to keep. It's an odd type of attachment he has to the world he no longer belongs in. It's almost like he helped create it and he wants to see where it will go.
In all his travels, he's never away from America for too long. Some part of him would fight for it still.
*
When he finally finds what can hold him, he's surprised that it's not a place but a she.
Asked to visit Washington to witness something-or-another for the oddest coven of vampires he'd ever met, he arrives at the glass house with no expectations.
Everyone else finds the child to be the most important thing to witness, but then they must not be seeing the woman he does. Kate.
It's her he stays for.
It's her passion for the cause that inspires his own. He finally takes notice of the child because she does. He sees the Volturi for what they are because she shows him. He'll fight for what's right, something he's always tried to do.
It's surprisingly easy for him to stay in this one place for such a length of time.
*
He asks someone--he can't remember who--about the golden eyes, and that's how he finds out everything he knows about her, which is admittedly not much yet.
Her odd diet, her supernatural ability, her history with men. It all makes her incredible to him, and that's not even counting her looks. Her thick, yellow locks and her eyes that seem to know things. The curve of her body and the movements of her hips. The way her gaze lingers on him just a split second too long to be unintentional.
When she shocks him, sending him ass backwards off his feet, that's when he first knows he's in love with her.
*
She dares him to go vegetarian, just try it, and he can't resist the challenge. It's an odd experience, but not entirely unpleasant. Nothing like the hunting he's used to, but enough to satisfy his thirst and leave him without the guilt of murder on his hands.
*
Vampires mate for life, right?
Garrett thinks Kate must be the exception. She is a succubus, after all.
So he doesn't think it means the same thing to her as it does to him when she slams him against a tree and has her way with him.
But he doesn't care, not with death impending, and so he tells her the truth. Because the truth is what you tell when something like this is on the horizon. He doesn't care how she'll react, he just wants her to know.
"If we live through this, I'll follow you anywhere, woman."
She squeezes his hand, and suddenly he's hoping they live through this more than anything.
"Now he tells me."
She's hoping the same thing.
Fandom: Twilight
Character/Pairing: Garrett/Kate
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 946
Summary: It's years and years of lonesome travel and adventuring. Always acquaintances and never friendships, and live meals that don't have time to protest.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me.
Spoilers: Breaking Dawn
What memories he has are vague. A sea of bodies, a row of tents, a blur of faces, the feeling of the musket in his hands. But he remembers why he's there. That's not something he can easily forget.
And he remembers how it ends. It ends with a bayonet to the stomach, a blind pain. Collapsing in a field with smoke so thick he can't identify the body next to him or the hand in front of his face. Waiting to die, thinking it can't get any worse than this.
Until it does, out of nowhere. A sharp, fiery, white-hot burn that turns the bayonet into a paper cut. It's torture, some new form of suffering inflicted on him. He can't stop from screaming, thrashing, crying out for help, though there's no one there. It must be hell.
But it ends, and when he awakens, everything is loud like a thunder of cannons. Only his chest is quiet.
There's an ache in the back of his throat that he only identifies when he finds himself drinking the already spilt blood of his comrades in arms. Thirst, barely satisfied by the dried blood.
He doesn't understand what he's become, only knows that he wants something fresher.
He doesn't want to be a killer, though it seems like he has no choice. But Garrett is a soldier. He has his principles, and the only blood he will drink is that of the enemy.
*
He sticks around Boston for awhile. He wants to be there for the outcome, and there's really nowhere else to go. The years until the war ends are slow for everyone but him. He still doesn't understand himself, but he knows that he's not exactly alive anymore, and that time holds a different meaning for him now.
He hunts cautiously, crossing undetected into enemy territory. He picks them off stealthily, making sure that their numbers don't dwindle so low because of him that anyone will notice. It's just his little way of helping out his country.
But after the war is over, murder is a lot harder to justify.
He leaves Boston, but he doesn't return to his former home. He doesn't find a replacement, but he can live with that.
*
It's years and years of lonesome travel and adventuring. Always acquaintances and never friendships, and live meals that don't have time to protest.
He learns more about the history, the rules of his kind. Rules he had always followed anyway, somehow avoiding detection despite the haze and lust of being new.
He tries out coven after coven, but he can't stand any of them and always disappears without giving notice.
There's never been any place that could hold him, and he never expects to find one.
*
He observes the years passing and watches the growth of the country he fought to keep. It's an odd type of attachment he has to the world he no longer belongs in. It's almost like he helped create it and he wants to see where it will go.
In all his travels, he's never away from America for too long. Some part of him would fight for it still.
*
When he finally finds what can hold him, he's surprised that it's not a place but a she.
Asked to visit Washington to witness something-or-another for the oddest coven of vampires he'd ever met, he arrives at the glass house with no expectations.
Everyone else finds the child to be the most important thing to witness, but then they must not be seeing the woman he does. Kate.
It's her he stays for.
It's her passion for the cause that inspires his own. He finally takes notice of the child because she does. He sees the Volturi for what they are because she shows him. He'll fight for what's right, something he's always tried to do.
It's surprisingly easy for him to stay in this one place for such a length of time.
*
He asks someone--he can't remember who--about the golden eyes, and that's how he finds out everything he knows about her, which is admittedly not much yet.
Her odd diet, her supernatural ability, her history with men. It all makes her incredible to him, and that's not even counting her looks. Her thick, yellow locks and her eyes that seem to know things. The curve of her body and the movements of her hips. The way her gaze lingers on him just a split second too long to be unintentional.
When she shocks him, sending him ass backwards off his feet, that's when he first knows he's in love with her.
*
She dares him to go vegetarian, just try it, and he can't resist the challenge. It's an odd experience, but not entirely unpleasant. Nothing like the hunting he's used to, but enough to satisfy his thirst and leave him without the guilt of murder on his hands.
*
Vampires mate for life, right?
Garrett thinks Kate must be the exception. She is a succubus, after all.
So he doesn't think it means the same thing to her as it does to him when she slams him against a tree and has her way with him.
But he doesn't care, not with death impending, and so he tells her the truth. Because the truth is what you tell when something like this is on the horizon. He doesn't care how she'll react, he just wants her to know.
"If we live through this, I'll follow you anywhere, woman."
She squeezes his hand, and suddenly he's hoping they live through this more than anything.
"Now he tells me."
She's hoping the same thing.