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capeandcowllogs2010-03-20 10:38 pm
jamie-prime.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-03-20 10:38 pm
Entry tags:
In Memory
WHO: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jamie_prime and superxgrlfriend
WHERE: A graveyard
WHEN: Late afternoon, Saturday.
WARNINGS: More emo dupe baby stuff.
SUMMARY: Jamie's been planning this for a while, and finally got around to do it without telling anyone. Monet followed him.
FORMAT: Paragraph; really a solo-log with a closing tag from Monet.
He'd been standing here for the past twenty minutes, and he was beginning to think that maybe he should say something, because certainly no one else is going to do it for him. For early Spring, he thought, the wind today was especially cold as it beat him across the face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but it had been about the fifth time that he'd done so with no result. He lowered his head and hissed in frustration, and into his chest he bit back the sharp hint of new tears.
"I'm sorry."
A poor beginning but at least that. The headstone, of course, didn't, couldn't, respond-- only the wind did. He stared at it and recalled Monet screaming over time about how they didn't have any money, and where it could possibly be going.Well, he thought, here it is. It didn't bring him any peace, it being here. He knew it wouldn't. There was no tiny body in ground beneath his feet. Jamie knew where his son had gone; still he deserved this much, didn't he?
"I was going to try," he confessed softly. "To be a good dad? Better than mine had been. I knew I wouldn't be, but... I was going to try." He sighed and tried to push away the frustration knotting between his eyes from the thought that he was only really talking to himself. But he wa-- no. No.
"Maybe you were just a dupe, a-and may-maybe you did just... trick her body into thinking you were real." There was this anger and sadness building in his chest, and he felt like maybe it was Sean's. Maybe his son was acting through him.
"But she loved you-- and for those few seconds, I loved you. I know I did. You were hers. She wanted... she needed you." He squeezed between his eyes again, and realized it wasn't frustration, but tears he was trying to push away. "Your name was Sean. You had a name. And a mother and father who loved you and who wouldn't have left you alone, so you COULDN'T have been me!" He cried out in a choke, unable to keep it back. "You couldn't have been me because for a couple minutes you had more than I did, and you were more than I was, and I..."
He reached out and snatched at the air. "I took it from you. Just by touching you. I told Theresa that," he joked sadly. "That I was afraid I'd break you."
"That's your mom," he said. "Theresa. That's your mom's name. I think she would have been here, you know, if she could have been. Maybe not. I don't know." He shook his head. "You're with me, right? So, maybe you'll help me be better." He sniffed. "I know you don't owe me any favors-- I wanted to do it for you-- but..."
Jamie leaned forward and set a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the stone, and a small toy truck on the top. "I'm afraid I can't do it alone."
He brushed his hand along the top, pulled his jacket around him, and walked away.
jamie_prime and superxgrlfriendWHERE: A graveyard
WHEN: Late afternoon, Saturday.
WARNINGS: More emo dupe baby stuff.
SUMMARY: Jamie's been planning this for a while, and finally got around to do it without telling anyone. Monet followed him.
FORMAT: Paragraph; really a solo-log with a closing tag from Monet.
He'd been standing here for the past twenty minutes, and he was beginning to think that maybe he should say something, because certainly no one else is going to do it for him. For early Spring, he thought, the wind today was especially cold as it beat him across the face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but it had been about the fifth time that he'd done so with no result. He lowered his head and hissed in frustration, and into his chest he bit back the sharp hint of new tears.
"I'm sorry."
A poor beginning but at least that. The headstone, of course, didn't, couldn't, respond-- only the wind did. He stared at it and recalled Monet screaming over time about how they didn't have any money, and where it could possibly be going.Well, he thought, here it is. It didn't bring him any peace, it being here. He knew it wouldn't. There was no tiny body in ground beneath his feet. Jamie knew where his son had gone; still he deserved this much, didn't he?
"I was going to try," he confessed softly. "To be a good dad? Better than mine had been. I knew I wouldn't be, but... I was going to try." He sighed and tried to push away the frustration knotting between his eyes from the thought that he was only really talking to himself. But he wa-- no. No.
"Maybe you were just a dupe, a-and may-maybe you did just... trick her body into thinking you were real." There was this anger and sadness building in his chest, and he felt like maybe it was Sean's. Maybe his son was acting through him.
"But she loved you-- and for those few seconds, I loved you. I know I did. You were hers. She wanted... she needed you." He squeezed between his eyes again, and realized it wasn't frustration, but tears he was trying to push away. "Your name was Sean. You had a name. And a mother and father who loved you and who wouldn't have left you alone, so you COULDN'T have been me!" He cried out in a choke, unable to keep it back. "You couldn't have been me because for a couple minutes you had more than I did, and you were more than I was, and I..."
He reached out and snatched at the air. "I took it from you. Just by touching you. I told Theresa that," he joked sadly. "That I was afraid I'd break you."
"That's your mom," he said. "Theresa. That's your mom's name. I think she would have been here, you know, if she could have been. Maybe not. I don't know." He shook his head. "You're with me, right? So, maybe you'll help me be better." He sniffed. "I know you don't owe me any favors-- I wanted to do it for you-- but..."
Jamie leaned forward and set a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the stone, and a small toy truck on the top. "I'm afraid I can't do it alone."
He brushed his hand along the top, pulled his jacket around him, and walked away.
no subject
Nevertheless, she thought, stepping out into Jamie's field of vision, she could make one thing clear: he was not alone.
Maybe she didn't belong there, in this moment between Jamie and his son, but maybe she did. Wasn't she nearly in the same position? Couldn't this have almost been their future? It was that last thought that propelled her, guided her as she wrapped her arms around him as if to protect him from himself.
Whether he liked it or not, she was there, and like most things she set her mind to, she wouldn't give it up without a fight.
Some things were worth fighting for.