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slashthedrabble Sep. 24th, 2005 11:12 pm)
a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com posting in slashthedrabble Sep. 24th, 2005 11:12 pm)Title: Death Becomes Him
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: R
Wordcount: 300
“Jack, stop this! Stop doing this to yourself! Please… Don’t do this…”
A weeping plea from beyond the veil. Another call to his conscience from beyond the grave. A torment, but a pleasurable one – like nails scraping across chilled skin.
He had thought that maybe he was alive, somewhere – anywhere. But when reality hits, it hits hard
Daniel was gone.
He wasn’t alive, he wasn’t living it up in some glowy realm just beyond his reach.
He was dead.
Again.
So he had another drink, then another, then another…
But it didn’t stop the pain. He had given up, given in – and let him go.
How many times must he let him die, before it was the big one?
'Congratulations, Jack old boy – he’s dead now.'
The alcohol only made him numb – it didn’t deaden the pain, the sweet agony of another death of the one he had loved. He didn’t even know how much –
Reality hits again, and he has another drink. It burns on its way down, a fire of blessed relief.
As the wraith standing near the fireplace weeps, calls and pleads – all he can do is watch – and drink. And hope that his worst nightmare come true will stop haunting him.
He wonders if he will sleep tonight. But he knows that he will, in the end.
“I’m sorry, Danny. I’m sorry I killed you – that I let you go, let you down. Again… I can’t…I –”
The words come out wrong, they always do.
“Jack! Please, stop! You are going to kill yourself! Please…if you love me…”
“But I do, Danny…” He whispers to the haunter of his waking dreams, “ And it’s killing me.”
So he has another drink –
Then reaches for the pills on the coffeetable.
Title: To Kill the Demons
Pairing: Wes/Angel
Rating: R
Wordcount: 200
The pain medication had to go.
It no longer numbed the burning ache in his trachea, but it did help with one thing - it allowed him to sleep. And when he slept –
He dreamed.
They had to be dreams, they had to be fevered imaginings.
The warmth of strong arms, containing, pushing at his own strength – hot, sharp stretches of pain, followed by the ecstasy of sweet warmth deep inside; pulling him in first one direction, then another.
The thrilling agony of teeth against his throat, not piercing, but hovering, ready.
The smell of blood and sweat, hot, fierce and pounding.
They were just dreams, just ideations of what could have been, but they were better than his reality. His non-existence.
So he squashed his doubt, his fear of dependence on yet another thrill, another high.
And took two more pills.
Title: A Deeper Cold
Pairing: MacGyver/Murdoc
Rating: R
Wordcount: 200
Cold. Immense, intense, biting cold.
Warmth on his shoulders, his neck – as hot, dry kisses covered the nape, just under the fall of his hair. He shivered with the sensation of hot over cold, pleasure over the pain. His mind was gone, as if it had never been – and he was left bereft, without hope or escape.
“You are like a drug.” Was the soft, throaty whisper – it cut like a blade, and he sagged with the ultimate agony of it’s meaning.
Lost, lost, lost.
Another sensation of heat across his flesh, as a lone tear cut a hot trail along his cold cheek. Cold like death, cold like the loss of hope. He sighed as the needle punched into his vein and the world floated away from him.
A sea of wonderful confusion and apathy washed over him, as he was embraced in the hold of a madman.
“A beautiful, delicious drug, my love. Ahh, what it is to love you…”
And then, that lovely abyss of oblivion, as the pain welled again – then he fell into the sea of dark dreams.
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: R
Wordcount: 300
“Jack, stop this! Stop doing this to yourself! Please… Don’t do this…”
A weeping plea from beyond the veil. Another call to his conscience from beyond the grave. A torment, but a pleasurable one – like nails scraping across chilled skin.
He had thought that maybe he was alive, somewhere – anywhere. But when reality hits, it hits hard
Daniel was gone.
He wasn’t alive, he wasn’t living it up in some glowy realm just beyond his reach.
He was dead.
Again.
So he had another drink, then another, then another…
But it didn’t stop the pain. He had given up, given in – and let him go.
How many times must he let him die, before it was the big one?
'Congratulations, Jack old boy – he’s dead now.'
The alcohol only made him numb – it didn’t deaden the pain, the sweet agony of another death of the one he had loved. He didn’t even know how much –
Reality hits again, and he has another drink. It burns on its way down, a fire of blessed relief.
As the wraith standing near the fireplace weeps, calls and pleads – all he can do is watch – and drink. And hope that his worst nightmare come true will stop haunting him.
He wonders if he will sleep tonight. But he knows that he will, in the end.
“I’m sorry, Danny. I’m sorry I killed you – that I let you go, let you down. Again… I can’t…I –”
The words come out wrong, they always do.
“Jack! Please, stop! You are going to kill yourself! Please…if you love me…”
“But I do, Danny…” He whispers to the haunter of his waking dreams, “ And it’s killing me.”
So he has another drink –
Then reaches for the pills on the coffeetable.
Title: To Kill the Demons
Pairing: Wes/Angel
Rating: R
Wordcount: 200
The pain medication had to go.
It no longer numbed the burning ache in his trachea, but it did help with one thing - it allowed him to sleep. And when he slept –
He dreamed.
They had to be dreams, they had to be fevered imaginings.
The warmth of strong arms, containing, pushing at his own strength – hot, sharp stretches of pain, followed by the ecstasy of sweet warmth deep inside; pulling him in first one direction, then another.
The thrilling agony of teeth against his throat, not piercing, but hovering, ready.
The smell of blood and sweat, hot, fierce and pounding.
They were just dreams, just ideations of what could have been, but they were better than his reality. His non-existence.
So he squashed his doubt, his fear of dependence on yet another thrill, another high.
And took two more pills.
Title: A Deeper Cold
Pairing: MacGyver/Murdoc
Rating: R
Wordcount: 200
Cold. Immense, intense, biting cold.
Warmth on his shoulders, his neck – as hot, dry kisses covered the nape, just under the fall of his hair. He shivered with the sensation of hot over cold, pleasure over the pain. His mind was gone, as if it had never been – and he was left bereft, without hope or escape.
“You are like a drug.” Was the soft, throaty whisper – it cut like a blade, and he sagged with the ultimate agony of it’s meaning.
Lost, lost, lost.
Another sensation of heat across his flesh, as a lone tear cut a hot trail along his cold cheek. Cold like death, cold like the loss of hope. He sighed as the needle punched into his vein and the world floated away from him.
A sea of wonderful confusion and apathy washed over him, as he was embraced in the hold of a madman.
“A beautiful, delicious drug, my love. Ahh, what it is to love you…”
And then, that lovely abyss of oblivion, as the pain welled again – then he fell into the sea of dark dreams.
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