say something, a gale/randy ficlet
Oct. 22nd, 2008 03:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wouldbedorothyTitle: Say Something
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wouldbedorothy (AHS)
Pairing: Gale Harold/Randy Harrison
Rating: PGish
Summary: Just a take on GR after Gale's accident. 1150 words. It's not quite dialogue-only, but almost; I felt like I was writing a very short play. Angsty, happy.
Disclaimer: I made this up.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I started this almost as soon as I heard about the accident, because I *needed* to write something, but I made myself stop just as immediately, afraid to jinx Gale by writing his health so improved. Hearing good things and knocking on wood, I finished it. Now, I don't know or care who knew what when, or did or didn't go where. None of my business. This is just what I imagined possible. Thanks to RR for coding and cheering, Kat for "ass-kicking," and Marina - just 'cause I love you!
And V, I hope you don't mind I used your icon! ;) It just seemed right for this.
Say Something
by AHS
“Rand.”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you gonna say something?”
A book is set down. “Do you want another pillow?” Body stands, stretches. “Some water? You’re not due for another pill until morning…”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Deep sigh. Crossed arms. “Fine. Like what? What should I say?”
“Yell at me. Curse me out for riding the fucking motorcycle in the first place, getting myself almost killed. Say you told me so.”
“What good is that going to do right now, Gale?”
“Fill up the silence? ‘Cause I hear you wanting to say all that, and you’re holding it in by just not saying anything, and I don’t like it.” Press of a button makes the bed move, sits him up a little. “You sit with me, you take care of me, but you’re so quiet. Fucking polite, even… It’s scaring the shit out of me. It’s not you. Not you with me.”
“I told you so. Is that better?” Voice overly calm.
“I think I’ve been counting on you queening out on me.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Fuck, Randy, I… When I woke up, before I knew what happened, before I knew anything else… except that my head fucking hurt like a motherfucker…”
Almost a smile.
“I could feel you there. And that’s what made the rest okay.”
Then a face of only shadows. Words that tasted of vinegar. “I wasn’t there.”
“Rand, listen to-”
“I wasn’t there when you woke up. I was enjoying my big premiere, wasn’t I? What we’d been working for. Drinking, laughing…” Pacing, distancing. “God forbid anybody kill the party mood by telling me!” A turn… a catch. “Why are you smiling?”
“It’s the first time you’ve raised your voice. One of the nurses might come chew you out, but don’t listen. Actually, they’ll probably let you yell at me as much as you want. They’re all out to get me.”
“Maybe because you’re not the most patient of patients.”
“Point is, you should let yourself get worked up. YELL, man. It’s a good thing.”
“It doesn’t feel good.”
“Because you’ve been holding it in, playing nursemaid, but barely able to look me in the eye. I knew you were angry, and I was just waiting for it. I wanted it. Hey, I still want you to tell me all about your premiere…”
“No.”
“Then tell me something!”
Silence. For a moment, stillness. A nod.
“Yes, I’m angry. I’m angry at everything. I’m angry at you for riding your stupid deathtraps, I’m angry at stupid fucking Los Angeles for breaking you, I’m angry at myself for not being here, I’m angry that I couldn’t have done anything to help if I had been, I’m angry that no one told me sooner… I’m even angry I didn’t just know without being told and that makes no fucking sense…”
“Most things having to do with me don’t make sense.” A want to make the shadows lighten… falls short.
“I fell asleep on the plane out. And I dreamt every possible outcome of your accident, one after another. Like a dream within a dream within a dream… You were fine. You were paralyzed. You were brain-damaged. You didn’t know me. You were fine but you didn’t want to know me anymore… You were de-”
Word refuses to form… to be spoken about him, in front of him.
“I kept waking up, but… not really. I was still asleep. It was all still the dream, but after every version, it’s like I woke up to a new one, and I never knew if it was going to be better or worse. And every time I thought, ‘What if this is the one that’s real?’”
Hand extended brings shaking figure to the bed. Fingers clasp, squeeze.
“I’m sorry.”
“Gale, wha-?… Stop it. You, you can’t be sorry to me.”
“Stop being so bossy. I want to tell you something.”
Tear wiped away and another willed back. “What do you want to tell me?”
“You know the whole life flashing before your eyes near-death thing? I had something like that.”
“…You did?”
“Except, my life didn’t flash before my eyes. It was your life… the rest of your life… without me.”
“What?”
“I know, it sounds fucking conceited to say, but I can’t help it. That’s what I got. And… I didn’t like what I saw.”
“What did you see?”
“Just a lot of quick flashes. Don’t really remember specifics. I know you were damn successful. Know you had somebody… in your life. You seemed content, I guess.”
“And what part of me having a good life didn’t you like?”
“That I wasn’t in it.”
“Oh.”
“And you may have been content, but you sure as fuck weren’t happy. There’s a difference. I know what you look like happy and I didn’t see it.”
“What do you expect… without you.” Wet, blue eyes dart away… return, smiling. “Dumbass.”
“Yeah, I am. But I’ve recently, let’s say, gotten some sense knocked into my head… hard.”
“I think I did, too.” Gentle fingertip to forehead. “Not quite so literally as you. But I know what you mean.”
“So, what have we learned?”
“I’m not allowed to live without you and you’re not allowed to die.”
“And vice versa.”
“Right. But what do we… do with that? We still live and work on opposite sides of the country. What can we actually change?”
“Maybe it’s enough for now to have all this fucking clarity.”
“Maybe.” Lips to wrist. “One thing, though… I know I can’t be your ’in case of emergency’ person, but I want it official, in writing, that person calls me right away.”
“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay you weren’t out here right away.”
“Mm hmm.”
“Never mind that I’d have kicked your ass if you’d missed your big night…”
Pointed look at the man laid up in the hospital bed.
“I’ll be in ass-kicking shape again in no time, thank you. What I’m saying is, it didn’t matter where you were. For a few years now, you’ve been not with me most of the time. But I can close my eyes and see you whenever I want. I couldn’t even get your voice out of my head if I tried, and believe me, I fucking have.”
“You’re saying I’m always with you?”
“Something like that.”
“God. I’d blame the head injury, but sadly I know you’ve always been that big of a cornball.”
“Yep. So, you done with the broody silence?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good. Talk to me. Tell me about your premiere.”
“Gale, I don’t-”
“And you can play you, and I’ll play the horde of squealing fangirls and fanboys.”
“Shut up.”
“I can shut up. It’s bedtime, anyway. But I want my story.”
“It was good.”
“Rand.”
“…It was fucking great.”
“There’s that happy face.” And another to match. “Now… what were you wearing?”
Author:
wouldbedorothy (AHS)Pairing: Gale Harold/Randy Harrison
Rating: PGish
Summary: Just a take on GR after Gale's accident. 1150 words. It's not quite dialogue-only, but almost; I felt like I was writing a very short play. Angsty, happy.
Disclaimer: I made this up.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I started this almost as soon as I heard about the accident, because I *needed* to write something, but I made myself stop just as immediately, afraid to jinx Gale by writing his health so improved. Hearing good things and knocking on wood, I finished it. Now, I don't know or care who knew what when, or did or didn't go where. None of my business. This is just what I imagined possible. Thanks to RR for coding and cheering, Kat for "ass-kicking," and Marina - just 'cause I love you!
And V, I hope you don't mind I used your icon! ;) It just seemed right for this.
Say Something
by AHS
“Rand.”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you gonna say something?”
A book is set down. “Do you want another pillow?” Body stands, stretches. “Some water? You’re not due for another pill until morning…”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Deep sigh. Crossed arms. “Fine. Like what? What should I say?”
“Yell at me. Curse me out for riding the fucking motorcycle in the first place, getting myself almost killed. Say you told me so.”
“What good is that going to do right now, Gale?”
“Fill up the silence? ‘Cause I hear you wanting to say all that, and you’re holding it in by just not saying anything, and I don’t like it.” Press of a button makes the bed move, sits him up a little. “You sit with me, you take care of me, but you’re so quiet. Fucking polite, even… It’s scaring the shit out of me. It’s not you. Not you with me.”
“I told you so. Is that better?” Voice overly calm.
“I think I’ve been counting on you queening out on me.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Fuck, Randy, I… When I woke up, before I knew what happened, before I knew anything else… except that my head fucking hurt like a motherfucker…”
Almost a smile.
“I could feel you there. And that’s what made the rest okay.”
Then a face of only shadows. Words that tasted of vinegar. “I wasn’t there.”
“Rand, listen to-”
“I wasn’t there when you woke up. I was enjoying my big premiere, wasn’t I? What we’d been working for. Drinking, laughing…” Pacing, distancing. “God forbid anybody kill the party mood by telling me!” A turn… a catch. “Why are you smiling?”
“It’s the first time you’ve raised your voice. One of the nurses might come chew you out, but don’t listen. Actually, they’ll probably let you yell at me as much as you want. They’re all out to get me.”
“Maybe because you’re not the most patient of patients.”
“Point is, you should let yourself get worked up. YELL, man. It’s a good thing.”
“It doesn’t feel good.”
“Because you’ve been holding it in, playing nursemaid, but barely able to look me in the eye. I knew you were angry, and I was just waiting for it. I wanted it. Hey, I still want you to tell me all about your premiere…”
“No.”
“Then tell me something!”
Silence. For a moment, stillness. A nod.
“Yes, I’m angry. I’m angry at everything. I’m angry at you for riding your stupid deathtraps, I’m angry at stupid fucking Los Angeles for breaking you, I’m angry at myself for not being here, I’m angry that I couldn’t have done anything to help if I had been, I’m angry that no one told me sooner… I’m even angry I didn’t just know without being told and that makes no fucking sense…”
“Most things having to do with me don’t make sense.” A want to make the shadows lighten… falls short.
“I fell asleep on the plane out. And I dreamt every possible outcome of your accident, one after another. Like a dream within a dream within a dream… You were fine. You were paralyzed. You were brain-damaged. You didn’t know me. You were fine but you didn’t want to know me anymore… You were de-”
Word refuses to form… to be spoken about him, in front of him.
“I kept waking up, but… not really. I was still asleep. It was all still the dream, but after every version, it’s like I woke up to a new one, and I never knew if it was going to be better or worse. And every time I thought, ‘What if this is the one that’s real?’”
Hand extended brings shaking figure to the bed. Fingers clasp, squeeze.
“I’m sorry.”
“Gale, wha-?… Stop it. You, you can’t be sorry to me.”
“Stop being so bossy. I want to tell you something.”
Tear wiped away and another willed back. “What do you want to tell me?”
“You know the whole life flashing before your eyes near-death thing? I had something like that.”
“…You did?”
“Except, my life didn’t flash before my eyes. It was your life… the rest of your life… without me.”
“What?”
“I know, it sounds fucking conceited to say, but I can’t help it. That’s what I got. And… I didn’t like what I saw.”
“What did you see?”
“Just a lot of quick flashes. Don’t really remember specifics. I know you were damn successful. Know you had somebody… in your life. You seemed content, I guess.”
“And what part of me having a good life didn’t you like?”
“That I wasn’t in it.”
“Oh.”
“And you may have been content, but you sure as fuck weren’t happy. There’s a difference. I know what you look like happy and I didn’t see it.”
“What do you expect… without you.” Wet, blue eyes dart away… return, smiling. “Dumbass.”
“Yeah, I am. But I’ve recently, let’s say, gotten some sense knocked into my head… hard.”
“I think I did, too.” Gentle fingertip to forehead. “Not quite so literally as you. But I know what you mean.”
“So, what have we learned?”
“I’m not allowed to live without you and you’re not allowed to die.”
“And vice versa.”
“Right. But what do we… do with that? We still live and work on opposite sides of the country. What can we actually change?”
“Maybe it’s enough for now to have all this fucking clarity.”
“Maybe.” Lips to wrist. “One thing, though… I know I can’t be your ’in case of emergency’ person, but I want it official, in writing, that person calls me right away.”
“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay you weren’t out here right away.”
“Mm hmm.”
“Never mind that I’d have kicked your ass if you’d missed your big night…”
Pointed look at the man laid up in the hospital bed.
“I’ll be in ass-kicking shape again in no time, thank you. What I’m saying is, it didn’t matter where you were. For a few years now, you’ve been not with me most of the time. But I can close my eyes and see you whenever I want. I couldn’t even get your voice out of my head if I tried, and believe me, I fucking have.”
“You’re saying I’m always with you?”
“Something like that.”
“God. I’d blame the head injury, but sadly I know you’ve always been that big of a cornball.”
“Yep. So, you done with the broody silence?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good. Talk to me. Tell me about your premiere.”
“Gale, I don’t-”
“And you can play you, and I’ll play the horde of squealing fangirls and fanboys.”
“Shut up.”
“I can shut up. It’s bedtime, anyway. But I want my story.”
“It was good.”
“Rand.”
“…It was fucking great.”
“There’s that happy face.” And another to match. “Now… what were you wearing?”
