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shadowknight2008-03-02 02:52 am
sl_walker) wrote in shadowknight2008-03-02 02:52 am
Entry tags:
Fic - Raw
Title: Raw
Rating: PG
Universe: Home
Timeline: January 7, 2006
Written: January 7, 2006
Summary: While Mike tries to think of what to write to the missing ShadowKnights, he reflects. And in the end, can only think, "I miss you."
It was hard to figure out what to write. The only thing that came to mind was "I miss you," over and over again. And that didn't even come close.
Words tended to be pale in comparison to the raw emotion, though there were masters of the art of writing who could capture it. Authors who could drive those feelings home or release them from the same, often with far fewer words than anyone would expect.
Unfortunately, he wasn't one of those authors.
In an abstract way, he had been thinking about Eddie. Mike wasn't sure why, exactly, his mind had wandered to his brother; it had just ended up there. He could probably try to follow the random patterns of his thoughts and figure out how that happened, but he didn't. Instead, he just thought about his brother.
Admittedly, brother in this sense was only a reference to their biological relation to each other, and held no deeper meaning.
He wondered, sometimes, how they could have grown up in the same place, been raised the same and still ended up completely different from one another. Wondered, too, how Eddie could have gone so wrong in such a relatively short span of time. The nearest that Mike could figure was that his brother was something of a sociopath.
There were times that he felt a little bit bitter over it; instead of being a protector, and a role-model, Ed had ignored him for the most part and when he didn't, it was because Mike had some kind of value to Eddie -- a scapegoat, or an alibi, or when Mike had grown up, money or a place to sleep. Having been raised by the adage that you take care of your family, Mike usually obliged, but only because it was expected of him and certainly not because he wanted to.
It was when he thought of Ed that he marveled at the patience and kindness of his parents, who still loved their eldest son, even if they couldn't stand what he had become. He couldn't claim the same -- every family had their black sheep, but Mike didn't feel anything more than irritation and occasional pity for his own brother. The less they saw of one another, the better.
Thinking of Eddie, though, inevitably led to a lot of places. His own life included.
It had once been a simple life, and if not for what happened in Deep 13, it would have stayed that way. He had once been the regular, blue-collar schmuck that went to work and came home and didn't do anything extraordinary. The older he got, the more he missed the simplicity -- he wouldn't dream of trading his experiences in for something else, but he sometimes wanted to get back to that place where the biggest concern was paying the bills.
He hadn't had any high blown dreams when he was young; he just figured that he would do what everyone basically expected him to. Work, get married, have children and eventually buy a nice house with a picket fence, then retire to his grave quietly. An even, steady life, with some bumps along the way, but nothing too wild or crazy.
Except, it hadn't turned out that way.
When he viewed it in pieces, it was a fair mix between bad luck and destiny, and sometimes some really good luck thrown in just to keep him going. His childhood, then young adulthood, then the SOL, then ShadowKnight, and now this. Whatever this was.
Mike wasn't so sure it was life.
Thinking of Eddie led to a lot of places, and another of those places was Joel.
When he referred to Joel as his brother, he meant it. It was far beyond the simple biological explanation of the word; it was a choice, instead of genetics. Brother didn't quite explain the entire dynamic... it was, however, the truth in part. They were brothers, and best friends, and comrades at arms, and partners in crime, but mostly they were just there.
Eddie had never protected him, but Joel did. It was, in its own way, ironic; Mike was the warrior, however instinctive, and Joel was the thinker, but Joel kept him grounded and stable when no one else in the world could do it. He knew that it was okay if he fell... someone was there to pick him up again.
Except...
Not now.
How do you write that? To suddenly feel like there's no anchor there between you and that chasm you're on the edge of. How do you put that into words?
He hadn't needed any anchors when life was still simple; waking up, working, going home, sleeping. Mike didn't even have any close friends, just people he hung out with. He didn't really need them. It was a kind of strange thing to actually have a real friend -- someone that you trusted enough that you didn't have to be stoic, you could fall, and they wouldn't think twice before picking you back up.
Rick and Nance and Lorna were good people. And he loved them. But they couldn't anchor him.
Inevitably, thinking of Ed led to Kitty, though in more roundabout ways. He never quite understood how his brother could be so damn mean to women; how he could use them and discard them without a second thought. Mike had his share of girlfriends, though nothing remotely longterm, and he had been decent to them just because he couldn't imagine NOT being decent.
Kitty was his first truly committed relationship; the first girl that he could say he was head over heels in love with. He wanted so much to marry her, and protect her, and raise children with her. He wanted to grow old with her, and wake up fifty years down the road and sit on rocking chairs waiting for the grandkids to visit.
Right now, he just wanted her to be here.
How do you write that?
He wondered, sometimes, if they would ever live long enough to get to the point of raising a family. The part of him that wanted children and a house and someday grandkids wasn't so compatible with ShadowKnight.
He'd thought about leaving the team before; thought about it sometimes now. In the end, though, he knew that so long as they went into battle, he would go with them.
Scott once said that this life would kill him. Given the last five and a half years, Mike was inclined to agree that he could have a point. It was only a matter of time before one of them, or all of them, didn't come home.
An unbidden thought rose to his mind that was strong enough to make him flinch, and that spoke to the level of loss he was feeling right then:
"Maybe it woulda been better if I hadn't."
He took a breath or two, and found Tom and Crow there in his thoughts. They were two of the best reasons in the world to always make it back, even if they were growing up. Even if they were becoming adults, and getting ready to take their own leaps into life. He never wanted them to feel like they couldn't fall back on him, and he had to be there so they could.
He was coping with more than he could really handle; coping with things a few months old, and some things only a little over a week old, and some things that were years old.
He didn't want to talk, but he couldn't retreat. Rick, Nance or Lorna would just accuse him of running away, or sulking, or bringing everyone down, and he just couldn't find the words to make them understand. How do you find the words? He was lost. All the pieces of his heart and soul that he had given away weren't there, and he was trying desperately to muddle his way through.
It felt a little like when he first realized how instinctively he'd come to rely on telepathy; when you reach out to reassure yourself that they're out there, and you can't do it. Before, he could always just sense them, like a humming in the back of his head, constant and warm and safe. He didn't need to seek 'em out, because he knew they were there. And that was enough. But he thought he could just go right back to what he had been before being the White Wolf, and it wouldn't be a problem.
Except it was suddenly so quiet, and he had to actually go and look and make sure they were all there, except they had gotten so used to him being fine without physical proximity that they had picked up other hobbies and things to do, so suddenly he was by himself on both planes; the physical and the mental.
It was lonely, but even that word didn't come close. There were no words to hit the bottom of it.
There were no words to describe this... this thing that he wasn't so sure was life.
He wasn't sure how long he would be able to hang on; how long he would be able to keep pretending that he was surviving just fine. For their sake, he put on the best act that he could... for his sake, too. It was easier to try to pretend that he was coping, instead of face a firestorm of anger or resentment from the other three. He only hoped that he could hang onto that until he didn't have to anymore.
Mike thought about his brother. And then he thought about his family.
He tried to think of what to write. But the only thing that came to mind was, "I miss you," over and over again.
Rating: PG
Universe: Home
Timeline: January 7, 2006
Written: January 7, 2006
Summary: While Mike tries to think of what to write to the missing ShadowKnights, he reflects. And in the end, can only think, "I miss you."
It was hard to figure out what to write. The only thing that came to mind was "I miss you," over and over again. And that didn't even come close.
Words tended to be pale in comparison to the raw emotion, though there were masters of the art of writing who could capture it. Authors who could drive those feelings home or release them from the same, often with far fewer words than anyone would expect.
Unfortunately, he wasn't one of those authors.
In an abstract way, he had been thinking about Eddie. Mike wasn't sure why, exactly, his mind had wandered to his brother; it had just ended up there. He could probably try to follow the random patterns of his thoughts and figure out how that happened, but he didn't. Instead, he just thought about his brother.
Admittedly, brother in this sense was only a reference to their biological relation to each other, and held no deeper meaning.
He wondered, sometimes, how they could have grown up in the same place, been raised the same and still ended up completely different from one another. Wondered, too, how Eddie could have gone so wrong in such a relatively short span of time. The nearest that Mike could figure was that his brother was something of a sociopath.
There were times that he felt a little bit bitter over it; instead of being a protector, and a role-model, Ed had ignored him for the most part and when he didn't, it was because Mike had some kind of value to Eddie -- a scapegoat, or an alibi, or when Mike had grown up, money or a place to sleep. Having been raised by the adage that you take care of your family, Mike usually obliged, but only because it was expected of him and certainly not because he wanted to.
It was when he thought of Ed that he marveled at the patience and kindness of his parents, who still loved their eldest son, even if they couldn't stand what he had become. He couldn't claim the same -- every family had their black sheep, but Mike didn't feel anything more than irritation and occasional pity for his own brother. The less they saw of one another, the better.
Thinking of Eddie, though, inevitably led to a lot of places. His own life included.
It had once been a simple life, and if not for what happened in Deep 13, it would have stayed that way. He had once been the regular, blue-collar schmuck that went to work and came home and didn't do anything extraordinary. The older he got, the more he missed the simplicity -- he wouldn't dream of trading his experiences in for something else, but he sometimes wanted to get back to that place where the biggest concern was paying the bills.
He hadn't had any high blown dreams when he was young; he just figured that he would do what everyone basically expected him to. Work, get married, have children and eventually buy a nice house with a picket fence, then retire to his grave quietly. An even, steady life, with some bumps along the way, but nothing too wild or crazy.
Except, it hadn't turned out that way.
When he viewed it in pieces, it was a fair mix between bad luck and destiny, and sometimes some really good luck thrown in just to keep him going. His childhood, then young adulthood, then the SOL, then ShadowKnight, and now this. Whatever this was.
Mike wasn't so sure it was life.
Thinking of Eddie led to a lot of places, and another of those places was Joel.
When he referred to Joel as his brother, he meant it. It was far beyond the simple biological explanation of the word; it was a choice, instead of genetics. Brother didn't quite explain the entire dynamic... it was, however, the truth in part. They were brothers, and best friends, and comrades at arms, and partners in crime, but mostly they were just there.
Eddie had never protected him, but Joel did. It was, in its own way, ironic; Mike was the warrior, however instinctive, and Joel was the thinker, but Joel kept him grounded and stable when no one else in the world could do it. He knew that it was okay if he fell... someone was there to pick him up again.
Except...
Not now.
How do you write that? To suddenly feel like there's no anchor there between you and that chasm you're on the edge of. How do you put that into words?
He hadn't needed any anchors when life was still simple; waking up, working, going home, sleeping. Mike didn't even have any close friends, just people he hung out with. He didn't really need them. It was a kind of strange thing to actually have a real friend -- someone that you trusted enough that you didn't have to be stoic, you could fall, and they wouldn't think twice before picking you back up.
Rick and Nance and Lorna were good people. And he loved them. But they couldn't anchor him.
Inevitably, thinking of Ed led to Kitty, though in more roundabout ways. He never quite understood how his brother could be so damn mean to women; how he could use them and discard them without a second thought. Mike had his share of girlfriends, though nothing remotely longterm, and he had been decent to them just because he couldn't imagine NOT being decent.
Kitty was his first truly committed relationship; the first girl that he could say he was head over heels in love with. He wanted so much to marry her, and protect her, and raise children with her. He wanted to grow old with her, and wake up fifty years down the road and sit on rocking chairs waiting for the grandkids to visit.
Right now, he just wanted her to be here.
How do you write that?
He wondered, sometimes, if they would ever live long enough to get to the point of raising a family. The part of him that wanted children and a house and someday grandkids wasn't so compatible with ShadowKnight.
He'd thought about leaving the team before; thought about it sometimes now. In the end, though, he knew that so long as they went into battle, he would go with them.
Scott once said that this life would kill him. Given the last five and a half years, Mike was inclined to agree that he could have a point. It was only a matter of time before one of them, or all of them, didn't come home.
An unbidden thought rose to his mind that was strong enough to make him flinch, and that spoke to the level of loss he was feeling right then:
"Maybe it woulda been better if I hadn't."
He took a breath or two, and found Tom and Crow there in his thoughts. They were two of the best reasons in the world to always make it back, even if they were growing up. Even if they were becoming adults, and getting ready to take their own leaps into life. He never wanted them to feel like they couldn't fall back on him, and he had to be there so they could.
He was coping with more than he could really handle; coping with things a few months old, and some things only a little over a week old, and some things that were years old.
He didn't want to talk, but he couldn't retreat. Rick, Nance or Lorna would just accuse him of running away, or sulking, or bringing everyone down, and he just couldn't find the words to make them understand. How do you find the words? He was lost. All the pieces of his heart and soul that he had given away weren't there, and he was trying desperately to muddle his way through.
It felt a little like when he first realized how instinctively he'd come to rely on telepathy; when you reach out to reassure yourself that they're out there, and you can't do it. Before, he could always just sense them, like a humming in the back of his head, constant and warm and safe. He didn't need to seek 'em out, because he knew they were there. And that was enough. But he thought he could just go right back to what he had been before being the White Wolf, and it wouldn't be a problem.
Except it was suddenly so quiet, and he had to actually go and look and make sure they were all there, except they had gotten so used to him being fine without physical proximity that they had picked up other hobbies and things to do, so suddenly he was by himself on both planes; the physical and the mental.
It was lonely, but even that word didn't come close. There were no words to hit the bottom of it.
There were no words to describe this... this thing that he wasn't so sure was life.
He wasn't sure how long he would be able to hang on; how long he would be able to keep pretending that he was surviving just fine. For their sake, he put on the best act that he could... for his sake, too. It was easier to try to pretend that he was coping, instead of face a firestorm of anger or resentment from the other three. He only hoped that he could hang onto that until he didn't have to anymore.
Mike thought about his brother. And then he thought about his family.
He tried to think of what to write. But the only thing that came to mind was, "I miss you," over and over again.