Darkness Challenge - Coffin Talk
Dec. 29th, 2003 03:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lynnmonster.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionTechnically, this takes place entirely in the dark, because it's Fraser's POV while he's in the coffin in "Dead Men Don't Throw Rice."
"Never did like dead guys staring at me."
Van Zandt's voice sounded impossibly far away to Fraser, as if he were listening to it from the bottom of a very deep well indeed. The thunk of a coffin lid shutting followed, and he was dimly aware of a change in the quality of the darkness that he sensed lurked behind the bright, wintry forest scene in front of him.
He wasn't disturbed by the change. Quite the opposite. He was so calm that he was completely unconcerned about the lack of air supply. He returned his attention to the conversation with his father with more equanimity than he'd ever been able to maintain in his presence before.
His father didn't seem to notice his straying attention, and continued to give him a somewhat cursory tour of the Neverland. The sparkling vista in front of them seemed to be playing like a movie on the screen of his closed eyelids, and at the same time extending infinitely outward.
Fraser's focus drifted away from his father's hearty non-advice once more, and he imagined that he heard an echo of Ray's voice, beautiful in its hasty urgency. That faint sound touched something inside him, leaving him anxious and unsettled.
"Let's say I did have a question," he ventured to ask (thinking of Ray's rough voice and his beautiful paragraph and his odd non sequiturs and questions about weights and cheeses in outer space and his comforting familiarity and his kindnesses to suspects and his gift for subterfuge and his insistence that cartoon characters could never be malicious).
"...One that was unique to me." As unique as the partner he might or might not be returning to shortly.
"Where would I go to ask it?"
"In here, son," his father replied, gesturing in the general region of Ben's chest. "You ask yourself. Your whole life is in here..." Ben allowed his father's explanation to roll over him like so much water over a stone.
So this was the wisdom of the afterlife. Easy answers were apparently no more forthcoming here than on the material plane.
"So that door with, er, the light behind it, does that mean I'm...?"
"Dead? No son. Look at this as a coming attraction. You've got a few more obligations to fulfill."
So he *would* be going back. Ben gave the mental equivalent of a sigh and turned his attention inward as advised, to the task he'd successfully avoided for so long. He was hardly surprised to find that once he finally took a good look at his heart, Ray's fingerprints were all over the damned thing. Remnants of a squeeze here, a protective cradle there, a smudge where he'd dropped it, and a lopsided portion where it had apparently been shoved over to make room for Ray's own exceptionally large heart to fit right next to it.
Undeniable confirmation of what he'd been trying not to suspect for some time now. He'd been pushing his suspicions about himself aside for so long, with such vigor and dread, that he was surprised to find that when he finally faced them, he took only comfort from the self-examination. Perhaps he would be able to bring this new sense of peace back with him from the Neverland.
A high-pitched scream pierced the stillness high above the urban skyline that now surrounded them.
"Ooh! That's never happened before," his father exclaimed.
"I think someone's in trouble."
"That'd be one of your obligations."
He was about to go, but stopped to say, "Thanks Dad." Finally, one of his fatherly chats had been productive and beneficial.
"Anytime."
"See you later," Ben said, and felt the Neverland fall away.
Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justacat for the rigorous beta!
"Never did like dead guys staring at me."
Van Zandt's voice sounded impossibly far away to Fraser, as if he were listening to it from the bottom of a very deep well indeed. The thunk of a coffin lid shutting followed, and he was dimly aware of a change in the quality of the darkness that he sensed lurked behind the bright, wintry forest scene in front of him.
He wasn't disturbed by the change. Quite the opposite. He was so calm that he was completely unconcerned about the lack of air supply. He returned his attention to the conversation with his father with more equanimity than he'd ever been able to maintain in his presence before.
His father didn't seem to notice his straying attention, and continued to give him a somewhat cursory tour of the Neverland. The sparkling vista in front of them seemed to be playing like a movie on the screen of his closed eyelids, and at the same time extending infinitely outward.
Fraser's focus drifted away from his father's hearty non-advice once more, and he imagined that he heard an echo of Ray's voice, beautiful in its hasty urgency. That faint sound touched something inside him, leaving him anxious and unsettled.
"Let's say I did have a question," he ventured to ask (thinking of Ray's rough voice and his beautiful paragraph and his odd non sequiturs and questions about weights and cheeses in outer space and his comforting familiarity and his kindnesses to suspects and his gift for subterfuge and his insistence that cartoon characters could never be malicious).
"...One that was unique to me." As unique as the partner he might or might not be returning to shortly.
"Where would I go to ask it?"
"In here, son," his father replied, gesturing in the general region of Ben's chest. "You ask yourself. Your whole life is in here..." Ben allowed his father's explanation to roll over him like so much water over a stone.
So this was the wisdom of the afterlife. Easy answers were apparently no more forthcoming here than on the material plane.
"So that door with, er, the light behind it, does that mean I'm...?"
"Dead? No son. Look at this as a coming attraction. You've got a few more obligations to fulfill."
So he *would* be going back. Ben gave the mental equivalent of a sigh and turned his attention inward as advised, to the task he'd successfully avoided for so long. He was hardly surprised to find that once he finally took a good look at his heart, Ray's fingerprints were all over the damned thing. Remnants of a squeeze here, a protective cradle there, a smudge where he'd dropped it, and a lopsided portion where it had apparently been shoved over to make room for Ray's own exceptionally large heart to fit right next to it.
Undeniable confirmation of what he'd been trying not to suspect for some time now. He'd been pushing his suspicions about himself aside for so long, with such vigor and dread, that he was surprised to find that when he finally faced them, he took only comfort from the self-examination. Perhaps he would be able to bring this new sense of peace back with him from the Neverland.
A high-pitched scream pierced the stillness high above the urban skyline that now surrounded them.
"Ooh! That's never happened before," his father exclaimed.
"I think someone's in trouble."
"That'd be one of your obligations."
He was about to go, but stopped to say, "Thanks Dad." Finally, one of his fatherly chats had been productive and beneficial.
"Anytime."
"See you later," Ben said, and felt the Neverland fall away.
Many thanks to
justacat for the rigorous beta!
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 02:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 02:53 am (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2003-12-29 09:40 pm (UTC)Awww...this was my favorite part, but it was all lovely.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 02:55 am (UTC)(P.S. -- It's my favorite part, too.)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 03:40 am (UTC)(Hey. Like your smoking icon, heh.)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:42 pm (UTC)Thanks!
(And I dig *your* smoking icon, too.)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 12:33 pm (UTC)I see *you've* got a cooler-than-thou smoking icon, too -- should we all start a community? We could be http://www.livejournal.com/community/smoking_icons_r_us or something...
no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:49 am (UTC)and, um, perhaps non-verbal is not exactly the word. But in my rambly way I wanted to say, I liked your story!
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 02:59 am (UTC)Feel better! (And, no, no lonely lungs here. Reciprocal gifting is in effect.)
Glad you liked it!
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 01:54 am (UTC)Well, "Coffin Talk" qualifies on all counts, although I wasn't in my car, but half way out of my chair to take a bath. This is definitely an "armchair moment" and my only wish is that it could have gone on way longer, even if I ended up taking a bath at midnight. Nice work!
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Date: 2003-12-30 03:03 am (UTC)Thank you so much for the kind words -- I'm glad you enjoyed the story!
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Date: 2003-12-30 05:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-30 08:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-31 12:02 am (UTC)