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muses_gonewild... Nobody Gets to Live Life Backward
Dec. 28th, 2008 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thecopper"Nobody gets to live life backward. Look ahead, that is where your future lies." - Ann Landers
Gwen Cooper knew too well what dying felt like. After all, she had died before.
At least, she was pretty sure Suzie had killed her, at least for a moment. But there had only been darkness there, and even now, she refused to believe in the blackness of death.
That was Suzie’s darkness, not her own.
She turned her head and her cheek slapped against cold pavement. She watched thick blood pool from her side, mottled in the dust speckled light streaming through the warehouse. She wanted to scream for Jack and Ianto, but her mouth was too dry, her lips cracked and the tearing pain in every inch of her body was too much to fight through to form words. She tried to detach herself, and concentrated on the way her vision swam, the way her stomach tightened with nausea, the way the musty smell of blood filled her nostrils.
They wouldn’t find her in time; that she was sure of. But to concentrate on anything other than the pain was enough. She realised this must have been how Tosh felt, when the life was drained from her own body. At least she had the warmth of dying in Jack’s arms.
The warehouse stone was cold against her back.
She closed her eyes against the darkness.
***
Owen’s hands were on her. Touching, feeling, being. His hands running over the sides of her body. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
Her mobile rang.
Owen grunted and pulled away from her, scowling as he curled up on the bed. She pulled the mobile off the nightstand. Rhys. She shot Owen that look that meant, “What are we doing?” He shot her that look that meant, “Go fuck yourself, then.”
She silenced the phone. Then she sent a text.
Problems at work. Don’t wait up.
She let Owen claim her again. She wasn’t ready to forgive the sins of the past, even if she couldn’t quite remember what they were.
***
She poked her spaghetti with her fork. Rhys sipped his third glass of wine. The white candle he had set in the middle of the table smoldered; she had accidentally blown it out. Rhys had added it for romantic flair.
She stared into her plate, and then stole a glance at her boyfriend. Their two-year anniversary had been ill planned; missed reservations, then car trouble, followed by a tear in Rhys’ only pair of unstained trousers.
Gwen wondered if that was all life had to offer. Cooling spaghetti and reruns on television.
And the smell of burning pudding.
“Shit,” Rhys said, scrambling up and running towards the kitchen. Gwen sighed.
Their first anniversary had been much better.
***
Gwen decided in the clear, level-headed thinking that being fourteen years old had to offer, that she hated Swansea.
She hated their new house, she hated the weather, she hated the creepy fellow that lived next door and stared at her funny when she wore her school uniform, and most of all, she hated her parents for moving from Cardiff.
Nothing would ever be as nice as her trawling city, the smell of the bay in the earliest morning, her friends and her school and the tiny little flat that had always been hers.
She decided, even before they finished unpacking, she would move back to Cardiff as soon as A-levels started. She would come visit her parents when she could be bothered.
Nothing Swansea could offer would approach the joy remembering Cardiff gave her.
***
Toys, playtime, naptime, the smell of pine in the air come Christmas, the joy of waking up each morning to the adventure that life could bring.
Gwen Cooper missed being a child. Life had been so much simpler.
***
When she woke up, the first thought in her mind was that there was no darkness. Only light. Bright, blinding, sterile light.
Rhys held her hand. Ianto paced near the doorway. Jack stared narrowly at her.
Her lips still hurt, her throat parched and scratchy beneath puffs of heaving breath. A dull ache in her side flourished, and she winced at the pain. But then Jack grinned, Rhys exclaimed something she could barely understand, and in a second, Ianto was next to her bedside.
She was in hospital; that was clear enough. But her eyes felt heavy, her mouth to dry, a fog of drowsiness enveloped her body like a thick blanket.
She closed her eyes, and this time the darkness that claimed her wasn’t quite as black.
***
When she awoke again, only Jack was near her bed. This time, she struggled to sit up, and Jack placed a solid, gentle hand on her arm.
“Don’t move. Relax. Do you remember what happened?”
She opened her mouth but no words escaped. She shook her head, swallowed against the cotton feel of her dry mouth, and shook her head again. “I…” she forced out, and then sighed and shook her head.
Jack tilted his head in a strange understanding. “Rhys went to the cafeteria,” he smirked. “Ianto went with him. We didn’t know when you would be awake again.”
Gwen nodded. The fog of drowsiness around her head began to clear, and the throbbing pain in her side snaked through her. She tried to relax, and turned her head against the soft pillow. Jack sat and looked at her, and they remained silent for so long, she wondered if time was even passing anymore. Sometimes it felt that way, sitting with Jack.
“Jack…” she asked, after long moments, her throat not as scratchy, though her voice still wavered. “When… when you die, does, well…” she felt her face flush slightly. “Does your life ever, well, flash before your eyes?”
For a second, she wondered if Jack was going to laugh at her. Instead, his eyes darkened in the way they do when he was shutting her out, and he leaned back in his chair. ‘Why would it? My past is not who I am, Gwen. There’s no point in letting the past consume your present. Nobody gets to live life backwards.”
Gwen opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Then, Ianto and Rhys exploded back into the room, and Jack backed away with Ianto while Rhys fawned over Gwen at the bedside, ringing for a nurse and demanding water and covering her face with kisses.
At some point, Jack and Ianto vanished completely, but it didn’t bother Gwen too much. She was content enough, listening to Rhys twitter on about things that were of little interest to her, his voice gentle in her ear, the warmth of his hand enveloping her own. Her future, here with the man who loved her and the people she cared about, seemed so much bigger than it ever had before.
------------
Cut for Length
------------
Muse: Gwen Cooper, Torchwood
Prompt: 136. "Nobody gets to live life backward. Look ahead, that is where your future lies." - Ann Landers
Verse: Open
Word Count: 1150
Gwen Cooper knew too well what dying felt like. After all, she had died before.
At least, she was pretty sure Suzie had killed her, at least for a moment. But there had only been darkness there, and even now, she refused to believe in the blackness of death.
That was Suzie’s darkness, not her own.
She turned her head and her cheek slapped against cold pavement. She watched thick blood pool from her side, mottled in the dust speckled light streaming through the warehouse. She wanted to scream for Jack and Ianto, but her mouth was too dry, her lips cracked and the tearing pain in every inch of her body was too much to fight through to form words. She tried to detach herself, and concentrated on the way her vision swam, the way her stomach tightened with nausea, the way the musty smell of blood filled her nostrils.
They wouldn’t find her in time; that she was sure of. But to concentrate on anything other than the pain was enough. She realised this must have been how Tosh felt, when the life was drained from her own body. At least she had the warmth of dying in Jack’s arms.
The warehouse stone was cold against her back.
She closed her eyes against the darkness.
***
Owen’s hands were on her. Touching, feeling, being. His hands running over the sides of her body. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
Her mobile rang.
Owen grunted and pulled away from her, scowling as he curled up on the bed. She pulled the mobile off the nightstand. Rhys. She shot Owen that look that meant, “What are we doing?” He shot her that look that meant, “Go fuck yourself, then.”
She silenced the phone. Then she sent a text.
Problems at work. Don’t wait up.
She let Owen claim her again. She wasn’t ready to forgive the sins of the past, even if she couldn’t quite remember what they were.
***
She poked her spaghetti with her fork. Rhys sipped his third glass of wine. The white candle he had set in the middle of the table smoldered; she had accidentally blown it out. Rhys had added it for romantic flair.
She stared into her plate, and then stole a glance at her boyfriend. Their two-year anniversary had been ill planned; missed reservations, then car trouble, followed by a tear in Rhys’ only pair of unstained trousers.
Gwen wondered if that was all life had to offer. Cooling spaghetti and reruns on television.
And the smell of burning pudding.
“Shit,” Rhys said, scrambling up and running towards the kitchen. Gwen sighed.
Their first anniversary had been much better.
***
Gwen decided in the clear, level-headed thinking that being fourteen years old had to offer, that she hated Swansea.
She hated their new house, she hated the weather, she hated the creepy fellow that lived next door and stared at her funny when she wore her school uniform, and most of all, she hated her parents for moving from Cardiff.
Nothing would ever be as nice as her trawling city, the smell of the bay in the earliest morning, her friends and her school and the tiny little flat that had always been hers.
She decided, even before they finished unpacking, she would move back to Cardiff as soon as A-levels started. She would come visit her parents when she could be bothered.
Nothing Swansea could offer would approach the joy remembering Cardiff gave her.
***
Toys, playtime, naptime, the smell of pine in the air come Christmas, the joy of waking up each morning to the adventure that life could bring.
Gwen Cooper missed being a child. Life had been so much simpler.
***
When she woke up, the first thought in her mind was that there was no darkness. Only light. Bright, blinding, sterile light.
Rhys held her hand. Ianto paced near the doorway. Jack stared narrowly at her.
Her lips still hurt, her throat parched and scratchy beneath puffs of heaving breath. A dull ache in her side flourished, and she winced at the pain. But then Jack grinned, Rhys exclaimed something she could barely understand, and in a second, Ianto was next to her bedside.
She was in hospital; that was clear enough. But her eyes felt heavy, her mouth to dry, a fog of drowsiness enveloped her body like a thick blanket.
She closed her eyes, and this time the darkness that claimed her wasn’t quite as black.
***
When she awoke again, only Jack was near her bed. This time, she struggled to sit up, and Jack placed a solid, gentle hand on her arm.
“Don’t move. Relax. Do you remember what happened?”
She opened her mouth but no words escaped. She shook her head, swallowed against the cotton feel of her dry mouth, and shook her head again. “I…” she forced out, and then sighed and shook her head.
Jack tilted his head in a strange understanding. “Rhys went to the cafeteria,” he smirked. “Ianto went with him. We didn’t know when you would be awake again.”
Gwen nodded. The fog of drowsiness around her head began to clear, and the throbbing pain in her side snaked through her. She tried to relax, and turned her head against the soft pillow. Jack sat and looked at her, and they remained silent for so long, she wondered if time was even passing anymore. Sometimes it felt that way, sitting with Jack.
“Jack…” she asked, after long moments, her throat not as scratchy, though her voice still wavered. “When… when you die, does, well…” she felt her face flush slightly. “Does your life ever, well, flash before your eyes?”
For a second, she wondered if Jack was going to laugh at her. Instead, his eyes darkened in the way they do when he was shutting her out, and he leaned back in his chair. ‘Why would it? My past is not who I am, Gwen. There’s no point in letting the past consume your present. Nobody gets to live life backwards.”
Gwen opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Then, Ianto and Rhys exploded back into the room, and Jack backed away with Ianto while Rhys fawned over Gwen at the bedside, ringing for a nurse and demanding water and covering her face with kisses.
At some point, Jack and Ianto vanished completely, but it didn’t bother Gwen too much. She was content enough, listening to Rhys twitter on about things that were of little interest to her, his voice gentle in her ear, the warmth of his hand enveloping her own. Her future, here with the man who loved her and the people she cared about, seemed so much bigger than it ever had before.
------------
Cut for Length
------------
Muse: Gwen Cooper, Torchwood
Prompt: 136. "Nobody gets to live life backward. Look ahead, that is where your future lies." - Ann Landers
Verse: Open
Word Count: 1150
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
OOC
Date: 2008-12-29 03:35 pm (UTC)Re: OOC
Date: 2008-12-30 05:54 am (UTC)