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intheheartTitle: faultline
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Summer was a big girl.
Warnings: violent death, death of a child.
Notes: I'd be sorry, but Kelly asked for this. So blame them.
Ivy sobbed, her breath catching hard on gasps, her shoulders shaking. She cried as if she would never be able to stop, and something in Gina wanted to do the same, to break down and howl like a wounded animal.
She had no right, though, and so she did not; instead she knelt beside Ivy and held her close, murmured stupid, meaningless words, and let hate grow thick and hot inside her.
"It's my fault," Ivy sobbed, "it's my fault, I should have been with her."
"No," Gina crooned, stroking her hair, "no, love, it's not your fault."
It's mine.
--
There was only one girl.
He was told, when he was given this job, that there would be two, one older, one younger. He was to kill one of them—which one had not been specified. The boss was trying to send a message. What message, he did not know and had not asked. He was a tool, that was all, a hand to hold a gun. He moved at the will of the boss.
There was only one girl, but what did that matter? He'd only been told to kill one.
He raised the gun, aimed steady, and fired.
--
Ivy knocked on Gina's door and smiled, a little tentatively, when her girlfriend called out, "Who is it?"
"Just me," she said, and the door burst open a moment later, Gina beaming at her, delighted and oh so beautiful.
"I thought you had a thing today!" she exclaimed, catching Ivy's wrist, pulling her forward into the room.
"Got a pass," was all Ivy had time to say before Gina shut the door and pinned her against it, hands in Ivy's hair, hips pressed low against hers, breath hot on her mouth.
"Good," Gina said, low and smoky, and kissed her.
--
"You should go," Summer said. "I'll be all right."
Ivy looked at her with that little crease between her eyes that said she was worried, or thinking. "I don't know, sweetie. You're only eight... anyway, I don't mind. This is us time, right?" She hugged Summer's shoulders briefly, then let go.
"It's all right," Summer repeated, and really it was. Ivy wanted to see her girlfriend, and Summer was a big girl. She was smart, even if she was only eight. She could walk home from school alone.
"If you're sure," Ivy said, and Summer smiled.
Of course she was.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Summer was a big girl.
Warnings: violent death, death of a child.
Notes: I'd be sorry, but Kelly asked for this. So blame them.
Ivy sobbed, her breath catching hard on gasps, her shoulders shaking. She cried as if she would never be able to stop, and something in Gina wanted to do the same, to break down and howl like a wounded animal.
She had no right, though, and so she did not; instead she knelt beside Ivy and held her close, murmured stupid, meaningless words, and let hate grow thick and hot inside her.
"It's my fault," Ivy sobbed, "it's my fault, I should have been with her."
"No," Gina crooned, stroking her hair, "no, love, it's not your fault."
It's mine.
--
There was only one girl.
He was told, when he was given this job, that there would be two, one older, one younger. He was to kill one of them—which one had not been specified. The boss was trying to send a message. What message, he did not know and had not asked. He was a tool, that was all, a hand to hold a gun. He moved at the will of the boss.
There was only one girl, but what did that matter? He'd only been told to kill one.
He raised the gun, aimed steady, and fired.
--
Ivy knocked on Gina's door and smiled, a little tentatively, when her girlfriend called out, "Who is it?"
"Just me," she said, and the door burst open a moment later, Gina beaming at her, delighted and oh so beautiful.
"I thought you had a thing today!" she exclaimed, catching Ivy's wrist, pulling her forward into the room.
"Got a pass," was all Ivy had time to say before Gina shut the door and pinned her against it, hands in Ivy's hair, hips pressed low against hers, breath hot on her mouth.
"Good," Gina said, low and smoky, and kissed her.
--
"You should go," Summer said. "I'll be all right."
Ivy looked at her with that little crease between her eyes that said she was worried, or thinking. "I don't know, sweetie. You're only eight... anyway, I don't mind. This is us time, right?" She hugged Summer's shoulders briefly, then let go.
"It's all right," Summer repeated, and really it was. Ivy wanted to see her girlfriend, and Summer was a big girl. She was smart, even if she was only eight. She could walk home from school alone.
"If you're sure," Ivy said, and Summer smiled.
Of course she was.
