Post by FicWriter on Mar 6, 2009 2:17:32 GMT 10
Too Many Questions
(a fic written for the community writers muses on Live Journal.)
by JD
"Luka, will you be all right down here alone while I put Joe to bed?" Abby stopped at the foot of the stairs, their son in her arms as the two entered the apartment.
"Go ahead, I'll be fine." His voice held little emotion, numbed both by pain and pain medication. It was his first time back in the apartment since the the night he had arrived home to find Curtis Ames holding his wife and son at gunpoint, and now, with the trauma of his kidnapping, and the surgery to his hand behind him, he was home again.
As Abby took Joe upstairs the silence of the room seemed to wrap itself around him and as much as he tried to fight it he felt an inexplicable sense of fear rising. Cradling his bandaged hand to his body, he moved away from the door and across the room, only coming to a stop as he reached the window on the opposite side.
As he stared out onto the street, he wasn't sure what he expected to see, certainly not Curtis Ames. Those final minutes on the rooftop had guaranteed that. When Curtis Ames had taken his life, he had made sure that every moment they had spent together up to including that when he had taken his life, would forever be etched in Luka's memory. So, why now was he still feeling what he was in his own house? He drew his arms tighter to his chest, unable to shake the chill he felt as the events of the past day were revisited.
Despite what the man had thought, he had done everything he could for Curtis Ames, how dare he do this to him and his family. The sudden surge of rage caught him off guard and for a moment he could almost forget the pain he'd been left with, almost, but, not quite. The physical wounds were ones that came with demons of their own, not the least of which was the uncertainty of whether the damage to his hand might strip him of his career as Curtis Ames felt he'd been stripped of his. The answers were ones he wouldn't find tonight no matter how hard he searched for them, they would only come with patience, and time, and once they did, he would discover if he coped with them any better then Curtis Ames had his. It was a test he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
The End
(a fic written for the community writers muses on Live Journal.)
by JD
"Luka, will you be all right down here alone while I put Joe to bed?" Abby stopped at the foot of the stairs, their son in her arms as the two entered the apartment.
"Go ahead, I'll be fine." His voice held little emotion, numbed both by pain and pain medication. It was his first time back in the apartment since the the night he had arrived home to find Curtis Ames holding his wife and son at gunpoint, and now, with the trauma of his kidnapping, and the surgery to his hand behind him, he was home again.
As Abby took Joe upstairs the silence of the room seemed to wrap itself around him and as much as he tried to fight it he felt an inexplicable sense of fear rising. Cradling his bandaged hand to his body, he moved away from the door and across the room, only coming to a stop as he reached the window on the opposite side.
As he stared out onto the street, he wasn't sure what he expected to see, certainly not Curtis Ames. Those final minutes on the rooftop had guaranteed that. When Curtis Ames had taken his life, he had made sure that every moment they had spent together up to including that when he had taken his life, would forever be etched in Luka's memory. So, why now was he still feeling what he was in his own house? He drew his arms tighter to his chest, unable to shake the chill he felt as the events of the past day were revisited.
Despite what the man had thought, he had done everything he could for Curtis Ames, how dare he do this to him and his family. The sudden surge of rage caught him off guard and for a moment he could almost forget the pain he'd been left with, almost, but, not quite. The physical wounds were ones that came with demons of their own, not the least of which was the uncertainty of whether the damage to his hand might strip him of his career as Curtis Ames felt he'd been stripped of his. The answers were ones he wouldn't find tonight no matter how hard he searched for them, they would only come with patience, and time, and once they did, he would discover if he coped with them any better then Curtis Ames had his. It was a test he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
The End
