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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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Stronger than death itself 3d/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-09 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)“Shrapnel... I love you too”, Sandy placed a small tender kiss on his lips, now moist and salty from her own tears. “I’ll miss you...”
“Flak...” Another rasping, painful gasp for air. “Buddy...”
Flak leaned closer and squeezed Shrapnel’s hand. “What.”
“Flak... Sandy... baby... you... you two are the best that... that ever happened to me...”
Closing his eyes with a shudder Flak lowered his head a little more so his forehead touched Shrapnel’s temple. On his other side, Sandy did the same and holding on to their hands, Shrapnel drew another hoarse, rasping breath, exhaling it with a soft, almost relieved groan.
Both Flak and Sandy waited for another painful intake of breath. It didn’t come.
Sandy’s shoulders began to tremble when she realised this and with a tired grunt, Flak sat up again to look down at the face of his friend. “He’s over it, darling”, he said in a voice that was hardly audible before he reached out and closed Shrapnel’s eyes. With a likewise gentle move, he also closed his mouth. “He’s over it.”
Sandy dropped her head onto Shrapnel’s chest with a sob and dug her hands into folds of the blanket.
Flak was still holding on to his dead buddy’s hand and now buried the other in Sandy’s hair. After a moment, however, Sandy suddenly threw her head and shoulders back and wailed, a high-pitched, painful ululation of grief that shook the marrow of his bones. Still not letting go of Shrapnel’s hand he now wiped his face with the other and closed his eyes.
“Godspeed, buddy.”
Outside the closed doors, Cathy had just stood beside Harkness, still as a stone, wringing her hands and wiping her tears away until after what had seemed like an eternity, Sandy’s wail of grief had torn through them all like a stroke of lightning. With a sob, Cathy had turned to him and fallen against his chest and as he had closed his arm around her Angela had stepped up beside them too and had run a gentle hand down Cathy’s back. She had been crying, too, and even Preston, used to death and dying as he was, being a doctor, had been wiping his eyes.
They had buried him the next day, in the graveyard downriver, on a cold, windy and rainy day that seemed strangely fitting for an occasion as this. Harkness had been one of the last to leave, and had watched from a distance as Flak and Sandy, standing arm in arm, were still watching the grave being filled in, watching the cold earth cover the body of a man they both had loved. Cathy had been standing at their side, and even though Flak had draped his other arm around her, she hadn’t leaned into him like Sandy had done. After a few moments more she had left them and, when she had noticed Harkness, had passed him by with a shake of her head. Harkness had offered her his arm and she had taken it with a grateful nod.
“I’m gonna lose them”, she had said, simply, without any feeling in her voice. He hadn’t understood it then.
He had understood the meaning of her words somewhat later, when they had been proven true.
The weapons stall had seemed so strange and empty without Shrapnel that for a time, people hadn’t looked there when they could avoid it. Sandy hadn’t taken up her guard duty again and Harkness hadn’t wanted to press the matter, so she had just sat on the sofa, day by day, staring at nothing while wringing her hands. Occasionally, tears had trickled down her cheeks but she had never emitted any sound. She had just sat there and slowly wasted away.
Flak, on the other hand, always a taciturn man, had hardly spoken a word since the burial and had just been smoking, furiously and with a force as if the smokes had been the only thing keeping him alive.
Stronger than death itself 3e/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-09 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)When the news had reached Sandy she came to the clinic as well, and even as Harkness had prepared himself for her grief, she hadn’t even wept. He hadn’t been sure, and still wasn’t, if her stony, unmoving face and her dry, lifeless eyes hadn’t been actually worse than if she had thrown a fit.
A stroke, the doctor had said.
Sandy went over to the bed and looked down at Flak’s unmoving form. “A stroke?”
Preston nodded, looking more uncomfortable than he had any right to be as a doctor. But even a doctor could only bear to give so much bad news.
With a slow shake of her head, Sandy took one of Flak’s hands and kissed it, and without making a single sound, without a trace of emotion showing on her face, reached out and switched off the machine that was keeping his body alive.
She placed a last kiss on his lips and held on to his hand until Flak had stopped breathing.
That time, Sandy hadn’t had anyone to hold on to as she watched the earth falling onto the man she had loved. Cathy stood beside her, but to Harkness it had seemed even then that there had been a wall between the two women. Looking back, maybe she had already been on her way, too.
Cathy had left her to her grief after a while and again, Harkness had offered her his arm.
“I’m sorry” , he had said.
Cathy had just shrugged. “I knew I was gonna lose them all, I knew it since the day we buried Daddy. I would lose Pa and Mama, too. I just... I just didn’t know when.” She had looked at her mother, her eyes brimming with tears, but never spilling over. “She just loved them too much. I can’t understand it, and I never want to. I never want to love someone like that. Not if I have to pay that sort of pain as a price.”
Harkness had been worried, as much by her words as by the way she had said them. He had spoken to Angela, but she had just told him not to worry. “She’s still so young, Harkness. Don’t think she doesn’t grieve, but young hearts heal faster.”
A few days later and Sandy was gone, there had been no trace of her on the whole ship. In the end, they had found her in the graveyard, curled up on her side between the two low mounds that held the men she had loved. There had been no trace of violence on her body, and not a trace of drugs or poison in her system.
Not a few people had said, back then, that she had died of a broken heart.
And Cathy... she had simply taken over her fathers’ business. She had grieved, but in the end, Angela had been proven wrong. Cathy had died alone.
Aged sixty-two, she had died peacefully after a life that she had told everyone had been happy and satisfactory. But Harkness had never seen her with a boy or a man, and it would not have surprised him had he learned that Cathy had died a virgin.
That had been twenty years ago.
Harkness looked up again from the flames he had been staring into as his memories had taken over a part of his consciousness. The three of them were still sitting on the sofa, and watching them Harkness realised that there wasn’t that much of an age difference between them. Amanda wasn’t much older than twenty, but the two mercs couldn’t be older than in their mid to late twenties both.
He wished he could have just told them, but these three people were not the ones he had known. They were what they were now, living their lives; they had to make their own choices and decisions and he had no right to interfere. Apart from that, the question remained if they would believe him at all.
He would have liked to think that fate had meant them to meet, but he had no way of knowing if that really was the case. It might be sheer chance. Yet the thought of them missing out on a second chance, even if they couldn’t remember the first one... he felt devastated.
Re: Stronger than death itself 3e/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-09 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)I love you, A!A. I KNEW IT WAS YOU
Re: Stronger than death itself 3e/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-10 04:36 am (UTC)(link)