Old Wounds
Jul. 11th, 2004 03:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wynterhawk.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionSometimes old wounds take the longest to heal.
He’s sleeping on his stomach again.
That means his back is hurting. That means the bullet – my bullet – is bothering him.
On nights like this, when he’s feeling the pain of the old wound, he uses me as a pillow. He leans his weight against my side, curls one arm over my stomach, and holds onto me as if he’s afraid that I’ll leave sometime during the night or something.
We both know that I won’t leave him, but sometimes he needs extra convincing.
I stroke a hand down the length of his back only to freeze as my thumb grazes the slightly raised mound of scarred flesh just below his ribs. Ben stirs, mumbling something against my shoulder before he falls still. He then tries to make me believe that he’s not awake. But I can tell from the change in his breathing that he is awake and that he’s waiting for me to do something.
With a fingertip, I lightly stroke the scar tissue and then trace a lazy circle around it.
He makes a small sound in his throat as I increase the pressure of my touch.
“Hurts?” I whisper, turning my face to press my lips to his forehead.
“No, Ray,” he answers, with his voice low and husky from sleep.
His arm tightens about me.
“What’s up?” I ask after a moment.
“Nothing.”
“Your back is bothering you,” I say, knowing that I’m pushing him a little.
He makes a non-committal noise.
“C’mon, Benny.”
I keep the solicitous tone in my voice and he responds.
“I was dreaming about… her… again.”
I close my eyes not really wanting to discuss the tragedy that was Victoria Metcalf.
“And when I awoke, and felt your hand on my back, I knew I wasn’t in danger anymore. You were protecting me, even as I slept.”
I can hear the smile in his voice and I squirm a little, feeling a bit uncomfortable with his admission. I hug him to me and place a kiss to the space between his brows.
“C’mon, don’t get all mushy on me.”
I try to laugh it off, but apparently he isn’t going to let it go. Ben lifts his head and looks into my face. The streetlamp light coming in through the window illuminates his blue eyes.
“No, Ray. I am just being honest. I was going with her, but I was running away from you. I was letting you in to my heart and I guess I couldn’t handle you being so close to me. And then she came and made the perfect distraction. She distracted me from my feelings, and it saved me from explaining how I felt about you.”
I swallow the rising lump in my throat and smile.
“I know how you feel about me, Benny.”
His answering smile gleams in the dim light.
Ben lies down again, and stretches his body along the length of mine. His arm comes around me again.
“You helped me to heal after what I let her do to us, Ray. You were there for me when there was no one else. For that, I am eternally grateful.”
“Okay, okay,” I say brusquely, feeling pleased nonetheless. “Go to sleep.”
He’s quiet again and I continue to stroke the bullet wound scar. He’s forgiven me for what happened, as I have forgiven him. But, no matter how much he tries to convince me, I cannot seem to forgive myself. There are just some wounds that won’t ever heal.
He’s sleeping on his stomach again.
That means his back is hurting. That means the bullet – my bullet – is bothering him.
On nights like this, when he’s feeling the pain of the old wound, he uses me as a pillow. He leans his weight against my side, curls one arm over my stomach, and holds onto me as if he’s afraid that I’ll leave sometime during the night or something.
We both know that I won’t leave him, but sometimes he needs extra convincing.
I stroke a hand down the length of his back only to freeze as my thumb grazes the slightly raised mound of scarred flesh just below his ribs. Ben stirs, mumbling something against my shoulder before he falls still. He then tries to make me believe that he’s not awake. But I can tell from the change in his breathing that he is awake and that he’s waiting for me to do something.
With a fingertip, I lightly stroke the scar tissue and then trace a lazy circle around it.
He makes a small sound in his throat as I increase the pressure of my touch.
“Hurts?” I whisper, turning my face to press my lips to his forehead.
“No, Ray,” he answers, with his voice low and husky from sleep.
His arm tightens about me.
“What’s up?” I ask after a moment.
“Nothing.”
“Your back is bothering you,” I say, knowing that I’m pushing him a little.
He makes a non-committal noise.
“C’mon, Benny.”
I keep the solicitous tone in my voice and he responds.
“I was dreaming about… her… again.”
I close my eyes not really wanting to discuss the tragedy that was Victoria Metcalf.
“And when I awoke, and felt your hand on my back, I knew I wasn’t in danger anymore. You were protecting me, even as I slept.”
I can hear the smile in his voice and I squirm a little, feeling a bit uncomfortable with his admission. I hug him to me and place a kiss to the space between his brows.
“C’mon, don’t get all mushy on me.”
I try to laugh it off, but apparently he isn’t going to let it go. Ben lifts his head and looks into my face. The streetlamp light coming in through the window illuminates his blue eyes.
“No, Ray. I am just being honest. I was going with her, but I was running away from you. I was letting you in to my heart and I guess I couldn’t handle you being so close to me. And then she came and made the perfect distraction. She distracted me from my feelings, and it saved me from explaining how I felt about you.”
I swallow the rising lump in my throat and smile.
“I know how you feel about me, Benny.”
His answering smile gleams in the dim light.
Ben lies down again, and stretches his body along the length of mine. His arm comes around me again.
“You helped me to heal after what I let her do to us, Ray. You were there for me when there was no one else. For that, I am eternally grateful.”
“Okay, okay,” I say brusquely, feeling pleased nonetheless. “Go to sleep.”
He’s quiet again and I continue to stroke the bullet wound scar. He’s forgiven me for what happened, as I have forgiven him. But, no matter how much he tries to convince me, I cannot seem to forgive myself. There are just some wounds that won’t ever heal.
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 01:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 01:51 pm (UTC)This was beautiful, and captured both Ray and Fraser's feelings in regards to the whole Icky-Vicky incident even in the future of the incidnet. I love these two, as you know, and I love this Flashfic!!!!
no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 04:01 pm (UTC)Nice.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 07:34 pm (UTC)And I think you've hit it right on the head- I think Benny and Ray forgave each other very quickly for what happened during the Victoria Time, but I think they are having a much, much, much harder time forgiving themselves.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 10:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 05:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 10:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-14 12:28 pm (UTC)Excellent job! Thanks for posting it!
no subject
Date: 2004-07-14 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-17 04:20 am (UTC)