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This Much They Know, 1/1
Title: This Much They Know
Fandom(s): Jericho, Heroes, Buffy
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: A slightly odd variation on the fic concept here. Three related drabbles, in completely disparate fandoms. Spoilers for Jericho up to 1x13, Heroes for 1xwhatever we're up to, Buffy up to the end.
Gail knows that there’s nothing that can be done. She knows that, really, there’s nothing she can do to change anything. Eric loves Mary. That’s that. She knows that, really, Eric and April shouldn’t just stay together because April’s pregnant. Babies are born out of wedlock all the time, and Gail will make sure that her grandchild never feels insecure. Gail knows all this. Which is why she knows that what will be, will be, and that if Eric loves Mary, then Mary will be a part of the family. So she writes a note to herself before she goes to talk to Mary. Be nice. She’ll be family one day.
But so much has changed in the last two months, and Gail is desperate to hold her family together, to keep them together, to be tight and close so nothing can hurt them. And she knows she can’t be nice.
***
He stares at her picture for hours. Claire Bennet. He knows that he brought her up, knows that she was his daughter in all but biology, knows that he bought her teddy bears from everywhere he went. Knows that she doesn’t like carrots, knows that she was a cheerleader, knows her grade point average, knows who was on her MSN contacts. He knows how she looked when she was two; four; ten; fourteen. He knows how she looked her first day of school. He knows how she looked when she was in the school play when she was in sixth grade. He knows how she looked in her cheerleader’s uniform. He doesn’t remember, but he knows. He’s got it all written down, reams of it, almost more information than he can process. He knows everything about her.
He knows what she is. He knows what she can do. He knows what he has to do when he finds her.
***
They stand there, at the edge of an abyss. Someone makes a joke, because someone always does. There’s fear and relief and love and grief, but whatever Giles thought he would feel, it wasn’t this. They defeated the First Evil. They drove back the darkness. They fulfilled any number of clichés made popular by Tolkein, and Giles knows that, of the watchers left, one of them will gain a certain amount of enjoyment from detailing the slayers’ achievements here in the most florid language imaginable. He should feel relief, joy, victory. But he doesn’t. He looks around him, looks at the slayers, looks at the people he loves, looks at his family, and knows that it will never be over. They can never rest. They will never have ease. This is their life, written in stone.
Fandom(s): Jericho, Heroes, Buffy
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: A slightly odd variation on the fic concept here. Three related drabbles, in completely disparate fandoms. Spoilers for Jericho up to 1x13, Heroes for 1xwhatever we're up to, Buffy up to the end.
Gail knows that there’s nothing that can be done. She knows that, really, there’s nothing she can do to change anything. Eric loves Mary. That’s that. She knows that, really, Eric and April shouldn’t just stay together because April’s pregnant. Babies are born out of wedlock all the time, and Gail will make sure that her grandchild never feels insecure. Gail knows all this. Which is why she knows that what will be, will be, and that if Eric loves Mary, then Mary will be a part of the family. So she writes a note to herself before she goes to talk to Mary. Be nice. She’ll be family one day.
But so much has changed in the last two months, and Gail is desperate to hold her family together, to keep them together, to be tight and close so nothing can hurt them. And she knows she can’t be nice.
***
He stares at her picture for hours. Claire Bennet. He knows that he brought her up, knows that she was his daughter in all but biology, knows that he bought her teddy bears from everywhere he went. Knows that she doesn’t like carrots, knows that she was a cheerleader, knows her grade point average, knows who was on her MSN contacts. He knows how she looked when she was two; four; ten; fourteen. He knows how she looked her first day of school. He knows how she looked when she was in the school play when she was in sixth grade. He knows how she looked in her cheerleader’s uniform. He doesn’t remember, but he knows. He’s got it all written down, reams of it, almost more information than he can process. He knows everything about her.
He knows what she is. He knows what she can do. He knows what he has to do when he finds her.
***
They stand there, at the edge of an abyss. Someone makes a joke, because someone always does. There’s fear and relief and love and grief, but whatever Giles thought he would feel, it wasn’t this. They defeated the First Evil. They drove back the darkness. They fulfilled any number of clichés made popular by Tolkein, and Giles knows that, of the watchers left, one of them will gain a certain amount of enjoyment from detailing the slayers’ achievements here in the most florid language imaginable. He should feel relief, joy, victory. But he doesn’t. He looks around him, looks at the slayers, looks at the people he loves, looks at his family, and knows that it will never be over. They can never rest. They will never have ease. This is their life, written in stone.