Author: Gypsie1201
Pairings: past/future 1x2x1
Warnings: Angst, Post EW, POV.
Archive: My livejournal, Debs-Dragon - GW Diaries, Akira_1x2.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own, just borrowing for a while so please don't sue.
Feedback: All is welcome and much appreciated.
Wait For Me
Sitting; seems that's all I do anymore. The guys came by the other day to see if I needed anything and when Quatre took me aside to ask how I was doing like he always does; I told him I was fine. It's such a simple word. Guess I've been using it to describe myself for so long now it's automatic and I'm pretty sure he knew that too, but I'm not ready to talk about things yet, may not be for a very long time, and luckily he didn't push.
Talking and thinking are two different things though, and I find myself doing quite a bit of the latter as I've been wondering how I ended up where I am now. Certainly didn't see it the first time we met during the war, especially after what happened that night. But as the days passed and we spent more time together during and in-between missions, we began to grow close; starting with a friendship that evolved into something more. We shared so much during that first year: our pasts, our hopes, our dreams, our pain, and our passion. But it was always just a sideshow to the main event of our lives; the war.
When at the end of that year, the war finally ended and we had won, I thought that maybe we would have our chance and at first, it looked like we might. We bought this nice little house in the country with the funds we had managed to funnel from OZ and were ready to settle back and enjoy the peace. After only three months though, you became restless. You never said anything for fear of hurting me, but I could sense it and even worse, I could feel you pulling away. Finally, I couldn't take seeing you that miserable anymore so I confronted you about it and you confessed that you were having trouble putting it away, the soldier mentality that said staying in one place was a risk. At first, I was confused, but when I asked why it was just now coming back, you told me something that reminded me of just how strong you really are; you told me you'd been struggling with it since the day the war ended.
To say I was stunned was an understatement. To say I was hurt that you'd hid it from me for so long, would've only scratched the surface. Three months. Three months, and I didn't even have a clue that you were unhappy until those last few weeks. So we sat down together and talked, really talked. After a few hours, we finally had a decent plan put together and a week later, we locked up the house and struck out across the planet and colonies. The idea was to just travel around, which would give you that sense of security you craved, while we tried to finally erase that ingrained belief. Unfortunately, we didn't count on it doing the exact opposite to me.
During our three months at the house, I had gotten used to being in one place and after two months of constant traveling, not to mention an entire year of jumping from safe house to safe house, I realized it was something I needed. It didn't take you long after that to notice that I wasn't as happy about the whole "see the world" thing anymore and you decided it was time to go home. But I knew that if we went home then, it wouldn't be long before you left again, only without me.
Well, things got pretty ugly after that. I really do hate it when we fight, especially over things that we could so easily talk through, but with our stubborn attitudes, it makes it hard sometimes. We did eventually work out a compromise, choosing to alternate between staying in one place for a few weeks then packing up and traveling for the next few weeks before stopping again. It really seemed to be working too, as we were both getting what we needed while still being together. Then the second war started, and we were once again thrown into the thick of things.
I think at first, you felt vindicated for not giving up your instincts, the ones that said, "nothing's permanent", but all that was quickly dismissed by the level and intensity of what we encountered, not to mention having to face one of our own. In the end, we did what we had to do and won back the peace. Then, not long after it was over, we returned to our home to recover.
It was a month later that the day I knew would come, and had been dreading with my whole being finally arrived. I was sitting on the front porch, in one of the old rockers we had bought when we first moved in. It was the first of summer and while the sun was bright, it hadn't reached the full heat that I knew would arrive in a few months. Walking out of the house, you stopped beside me for a moment and I didn't have to look to know your duffle bag was clutched in your hand. I'm not sure what you did while you were standing there, what you were thinking, but after a few minutes, you walked to the end of the porch and down the stairs.
Stopping at the bottom, you half turned and looked back at me, a sad look on your face, and what I'd like to think were tears in your eyes. You asked me to give you some time; that you'd work through it and promised to return as soon as you could. Then you said those three words that have had me sitting on this porch, in the same rocking chair every evening for the last year. Three little words, that's all it took to guarantee that I'll continue to do so for the next hundred if necessary.
So here I sit as the sun begins to sink across the fields while visions of a chestnut braid and violet eyes dance in my mind. Those three words still hang on the breeze and even though they weren't the ones I really wanted to hear, until the day you come back to me, they're enough.
"Wait for me."
OWARI
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