almost_knightly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
almost_knightly) wrote2011-07-13 02:42 am
almost_knightly) wrote2011-07-13 02:42 am
Entry tags:
Photo album spread out on my bedroom floor...
There was nothing remarkable about the day when Break got up this morning. There was nothing remarkable lying in wait in his bathroom, and nothing remarkable between himself and the kitchen, and nothing remarkable between the kitchen and the library.
The library, however, held something new today. It was lurking on the bottom shelf, easily missed but for Break's habit of crawling around on the floor -- a large binder, sedate red leather and several inches wide.
Break knows that binder.
Fingers shaking, he snatches it up out of the shelf. He fumbles it, and it falls open, and the first thing he sees is Faneuil Hall at Christmas, covered in snow. Below that is a photograph of Shelly, his own Shelly, dressed in winter clothes and laughing with Sharon when she was still small, and there's his ponytail in the photograph next to it because no one could ever get him to look at the camera that first year and he's seen these pictures a thousand times --
He slams the book shut, suddenly unable to look. A cruel gift, in a way; there are days that he wonders if he'll ever see this place and these people again. But on the other hand, now -- now he can show people, he can let them see things he's only described. It's as precious as it is mean.
Gathering the photo album up close to his chest and clutching it as though he's afraid it'll vanish, Break leaves the library, in search of some of the people he trusts most.
[ooc: Locked to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hadengineered, retraced, of_murder, standstilltime, smallkindnesses, info_barma]
The library, however, held something new today. It was lurking on the bottom shelf, easily missed but for Break's habit of crawling around on the floor -- a large binder, sedate red leather and several inches wide.
Break knows that binder.
Fingers shaking, he snatches it up out of the shelf. He fumbles it, and it falls open, and the first thing he sees is Faneuil Hall at Christmas, covered in snow. Below that is a photograph of Shelly, his own Shelly, dressed in winter clothes and laughing with Sharon when she was still small, and there's his ponytail in the photograph next to it because no one could ever get him to look at the camera that first year and he's seen these pictures a thousand times --
He slams the book shut, suddenly unable to look. A cruel gift, in a way; there are days that he wonders if he'll ever see this place and these people again. But on the other hand, now -- now he can show people, he can let them see things he's only described. It's as precious as it is mean.
Gathering the photo album up close to his chest and clutching it as though he's afraid it'll vanish, Break leaves the library, in search of some of the people he trusts most.
[ooc: Locked to
hadengineered, retraced, of_murder, standstilltime, smallkindnesses, info_barma]
2/2
[Break tilts his own head back, and the kitten crawls over his hand to visit other-Break again.]
Maybe what he needs is an acknowledgment of that trust. Did you ever fink of that? Maybe -- maybe instead of being wrapped up and coddled, he needs to be told, "I believe you're strong enough to handle this, even if you don't."
[Sliding a hand through his hair, he adds:] I mean, he's a Gil. He's gonna worry regardless, and you can't stop him from caring. I really do fink your being honest about it would help.
no subject
...I'm not going to tell him.
I didn't intend to tell you.
*even as he says the words, he can very nearly hear Sharon yelling at him now... probably something to the effect of 'haven't you learned anything!?'... but--
Well, no. Maybe he hasn't, at that.
He's trying. But he just-- Being back here, dealing with the same situation all over again, he can't help wanting to protect them all a little better this time.
...okay, maybe it worked out... all right, sort of, vaguely, at home. But he still can't bring himself to believe that what he did was mistaken in the first place.*
no subject
[Break wipes a hand over his face for a moment, wondering vaguely if it's only his age that gives him a different view of all this, or if maybe there's something deeper setting him apart from his doubles. He also makes a mental note to pay closer attention to that Gil, now that he knows more details of his past. After a few moments, lest the younger Break take it into his head that the photo album was the only reason he'd figured it out, he adds dryly:]
Just so you know, the ring was in your pocket when you were killed, and it has been on a chain around my neck since you were found. It did seem a bit odd that you didn't even make any faces at it.
1/2
*as his head jerks over toward the sound of the other's voice, Mordred also picks the same moment to attack his thumb again.*
2/2
no subject
[Making a valiant (and ultimately successful) effort to detach the wriggling ball of fluff from his counterpart's person, brb.]
The mansion made me feel what I felt, but I still felt it, I can't just -- ohmigod, you are a devil-cat. No, you can't chew on my fumb eiver, get -- no, Mordred! And anyway you were still carryin' it around!
no subject
*he cuts himself off there, subsiding into a rather sullen silence as he reaches a hand over toward his other-self again. He's probably going to get himself good and scratched, but he may as well try to help distract the kitten a little.*
.....and anyway, your actual husband is here now. What in the world do you need me for? *lips pressing together and brow furrowing in something that almost wants to be a look of distaste, but isn't quite.*
1/2
[The kitten takes a gleeful swat at the offered hand, and Break lets her go. If the other Break wants to stick his fingers into her pointy little grasp, that's his choice.]
2/2
[Oblivious to the tension between the two, Mordred attempts to crawl into younger-Break's sleeve again.]
1/2
That is really much more than I wanted to know about your personal life--
2/2
...But if this place hadn't been playing dirty tricks on us that week--
Nothing remotely like that ever would have happened. It's not... real. It nearly might as well have been a dream.
*though, of course, it isn't. He still vividly remembers what it was like to go to bed with this man, and--
Well. He was happy too.
Which is almost more itchy and uncomfortable than the thought of the sex.*
no subject
[The cat crawls her way happily up Break's sleeve until she reaches his elbow. Then, apparently satisfied, she settles down against his arm and begins to purr.]
Really, I'm just glad the place has been frowing me in wiv good people, if it must. If it ever tries to put me wiv a Vincent, someone's getting murdered.
no subject
He sighs a little, grumbling under his breath.*
....well, as long as no one else knows you're wearing my wedding band about your neck, I could care less what you do with it. Perhaps you will keep the thing from coming back to me.
no subject
[Idly, Break flips a little ways back in the photo album that's still on their laps. It's -- well, it's a shame, really. He'd wanted so much to show his counterpart his home.]
no subject
Younger-Break hears the pages flapping then, and turns his useless gaze back downward in the direction of the album, staring just a little wistfully. Other-Break had wanted to show him, and he'd -- honestly wanted to see.
Despite every snide thing he's ever said about his counterpart in the past, he really thinks it... it sounds like a wonderful life, that the other man leads.
When he speaks up again, he sounds a little bit hesitant, almost shy.*
Do you suppose-- you could tell me some more about it...? ...Milady's album.
no subject
[He chuckles a bit over that, but it's really to hide his awkward pleasure at the unexpected question. So many of their conversations seem to end with weeks of no contact that Break honestly half expects it every time they sit down together.]
Is there anyfing in particular you'd like to hear about, or...?
no subject
...Whatever might happen to cross your mind. Pick your favorites, I suppose...?
*in the meantime, his other arm is falling asleep a bit, but -- well, he'll deal with the marauding kitten when the time comes.*
no subject
[Break ponders a moment, then flips a few more pages.]
By her late teens Sharon was pretty sure she wanted to go into fashion design. So between high school and university, she spent a year abroad in Paris -- country of France, continent of Europe. I was born in Europe; it's all full of stone streets and cathedrals and little shops and just -- old fings. I love that about it.
Anyway the Rainsworths sent me along just so she wouldn't be all on her own for a year, and since she was in class all day, I pretty much had nuffin'-a do the entire time but walk around the city and find all the best bakeries...
no subject
Older-Break goes on about adventures in Europe, Sharon's fashion experiments, holidays, family gatherings. Vacations. Work and friends and marriages and breakups. There are any number of photographs inside Shelly's carefully-prepared album, and all of them, it seems, have a colorful story behind them.
He finds himself drawn in as he listens, teacup clutched in his hands again. They are, really and truly, a wonderful set of stories. His older self speaks so warmly and proudly of his family. Break could very nearly listen forever.
They might be the most beautiful fairy tales he's ever heard.*