Resilience
Jan. 13th, 2012 03:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: Resilience
Rating: PG.
Summary: Summer has an outlet.
Notes: none
Summer loved to swim.
Not that she would ever let on. She wouldn't give Lars the satisfaction. But she loved the water, the way it felt like cool silk sliding over her skin, the way it muffled loud noises and lifted her hair. She loved to float on her back, staring up at the sky, or dive underwater and see how far she could swim without coming up.
It felt, in water, as if the law of gravity had been broken just for her. If that constant was no longer constant...
Well.
In the water, she didn't have to pretend.
--
Grandpa Jack died when she was ten years old. The grief was terrible.
Not hers-- although hers was bad enough; a strange aching in her chest that squeezed until she couldn't breathe. It was Mama, Mama who cried wrenchingly and some days didn’t get up until the afternoon. The atmosphere at home was so sad that Summer couldn't breathe.
She took her Christmas money and bought a pool pass for the local gym, and every day after school she would go and swim until dinnertime. Just her and the pool.
The water was kind to her. It hid her tears.
--
In graduate school, she set aside time every evening to go down to the pool and swim. The swim team was usually out by seven, and by eight the water was empty, the whole expanse of blue waiting just for her. It was nice to get some time alone after the day.
It wasn't that she didn't like her classmates, or her patients. It wasn't that she couldn't pretend to be normal, like them. She could. She was good at it, even.
It was just that it was a pretense.
She had to swim every night, to let it go.
--
Summer loved her boys. She really did. But sometimes they just drove her insane.
It wasn't their fault. They were both active, outgoing people-- they wouldn't have joined the force, if they weren't. They both liked to know everything. They both wanted to do everything together.
And most of the time, she liked that. She liked the company, liked being able to sit and watch them, or listen to them talk. They protected her in their exuberance.
But sometimes... sometimes it was all too much.
She sighed, sharply, and dove into the water.
She stayed under for a long time.
--
"Near a swimming pool," was Summer's only request, when they got around to buying a house.
Zack and Felipe exchanged glances, then both of them looked at her. "What is it with you and swimming?" Zack asked.
"What he means is why can't we come," Felipe added.
For once she didn't have to think about her answer. "You can't come," she said, "because it's the only thing that has always been mine, and mine alone." She smiled. "We all need our privacies."
They exchanged glances again. "With a swimming pool," Zack said. Felipe nodded.
She loved them for that alone.
--
The water was hers in a way that nothing else really was. Zack and Felipe were hers, yes, but she shared them with each other and their families and their jobs. Thomas was hers, but she shared him with his fathers. Her parents, Lars, Ivy and Aaron and their families, they were all hers, but shared.
The water she didn't have to share with anyone. The water accepted her on sight. The water let her be herself, no illusions, no matter what.
The water was safe.
She floated on her back, looking up at the sky, and let it go.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Summer has an outlet.
Notes: none
Summer loved to swim.
Not that she would ever let on. She wouldn't give Lars the satisfaction. But she loved the water, the way it felt like cool silk sliding over her skin, the way it muffled loud noises and lifted her hair. She loved to float on her back, staring up at the sky, or dive underwater and see how far she could swim without coming up.
It felt, in water, as if the law of gravity had been broken just for her. If that constant was no longer constant...
Well.
In the water, she didn't have to pretend.
--
Grandpa Jack died when she was ten years old. The grief was terrible.
Not hers-- although hers was bad enough; a strange aching in her chest that squeezed until she couldn't breathe. It was Mama, Mama who cried wrenchingly and some days didn’t get up until the afternoon. The atmosphere at home was so sad that Summer couldn't breathe.
She took her Christmas money and bought a pool pass for the local gym, and every day after school she would go and swim until dinnertime. Just her and the pool.
The water was kind to her. It hid her tears.
--
In graduate school, she set aside time every evening to go down to the pool and swim. The swim team was usually out by seven, and by eight the water was empty, the whole expanse of blue waiting just for her. It was nice to get some time alone after the day.
It wasn't that she didn't like her classmates, or her patients. It wasn't that she couldn't pretend to be normal, like them. She could. She was good at it, even.
It was just that it was a pretense.
She had to swim every night, to let it go.
--
Summer loved her boys. She really did. But sometimes they just drove her insane.
It wasn't their fault. They were both active, outgoing people-- they wouldn't have joined the force, if they weren't. They both liked to know everything. They both wanted to do everything together.
And most of the time, she liked that. She liked the company, liked being able to sit and watch them, or listen to them talk. They protected her in their exuberance.
But sometimes... sometimes it was all too much.
She sighed, sharply, and dove into the water.
She stayed under for a long time.
--
"Near a swimming pool," was Summer's only request, when they got around to buying a house.
Zack and Felipe exchanged glances, then both of them looked at her. "What is it with you and swimming?" Zack asked.
"What he means is why can't we come," Felipe added.
For once she didn't have to think about her answer. "You can't come," she said, "because it's the only thing that has always been mine, and mine alone." She smiled. "We all need our privacies."
They exchanged glances again. "With a swimming pool," Zack said. Felipe nodded.
She loved them for that alone.
--
The water was hers in a way that nothing else really was. Zack and Felipe were hers, yes, but she shared them with each other and their families and their jobs. Thomas was hers, but she shared him with his fathers. Her parents, Lars, Ivy and Aaron and their families, they were all hers, but shared.
The water she didn't have to share with anyone. The water accepted her on sight. The water let her be herself, no illusions, no matter what.
The water was safe.
She floated on her back, looking up at the sky, and let it go.
