New Angst Bingo Story...
9/4/11 19:44![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
telarynTitle: Sight Beyond Sight
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telaryn
Word Count: 1285
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Hardison/Parker
Rating: G
Warnings: None really.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Hardison struggles to accept a radical change in his circumstances.
Author's Note: Written for angst_bingo, for the prompt "Disabled".
It wasn’t exactly urban legend material – as far as Hardison was concerned, it was just something you grew up knowing. You didn’t know where you’d learned it, just like you never remembered learning to talk or riding a bike or hacking a credit card company’s security system.
One day the knowledge was just…there. And you understood that when a person lost one sense, the other senses grew stronger in an attempt to compensate for the imbalance. If you were really lucky, you never found yourself in a position to test the theory, to experience first-hand that it was a process like any other. You never got lost in your own apartment. You never dealt with the humiliation, the helplessness – the loss of everything that had shaped the man you were.
Hardison was two weeks without his sight when he made it to his refrigerator for the first time without knocking anything over, breaking anything, or leaning on one of the others for support and guidance. The feel of the smooth, cool metal under his hands was such an overwhelming personal victory that he burst into tears.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Startled, the hacker turned towards the sound of Parker’s voice. “What? No…no…” He struggled to slow his breathing and convince his body he wasn’t about to be murdered by this particular intruder. “Mama, you gotta warn a guy when you come in.”
He felt her coming closer. For some reason he still wasn’t entirely clear on, he was more physically aware of Parker than the others. Which confused him, because arguably she was the quietest of all of them. On the other hand, he also found the connection immeasurably comforting – in his head he could twist it around as evidence that he wasn’t alone in his feelings about the two of them.
“Are you hungry?” He felt her brush past him and took a faltering step back, giving her room to get at the refrigerator. “I think there’s still some of that really good macaroni and cheese left.” True to form, Eliot had stocked the refrigerator with what had been described to Hardison quite colorfully as “a metric fuckton” of heat-and-eat dishes, with the promise of more as he ran out.
He heard the refrigerator door open, felt the blast of cold air, and struggled with the conflicting emotions suddenly raging inside him. “Parker, stop. Please.”
There was a long, painful silence, where Hardison lost the sense of her. He understood that she was close enough to touch, but was suddenly terrified to reach out and risk finding out he was wrong. “I was…” he began, then stopped. There was no way to say what he needed to without it sounding ungrateful. She just wants to help, and it would be easier to let her do it for you…
“I was going to cook it myself,” he said finally.
“Oh that's okay,” she said brightly. “I don't mind.”
Frustrated, Hardison waved his hands in front of his body, reaching in the general direction he thought Parker was still standing. A hand – slim and cool – wrapped around his fingers and squeezed reassuringly. “I'm right here,” she said.
Hardison took a deep breath. “Parker. I was going to do it myself.”
Another moment of silence. Hardison tried to imagine Parker's expression, but the exercise failed so completely that his eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I don't understand,” Parker said at last. “I was trying to help you...isn't that a good thing?”
Fumbling, Hardison reached for where her face should have been. Parker stayed quiet and motionless as he traced the lines of her expression with his fingertips. She was upset – he was upsetting her – and he hadn't wanted to do that. How can I make her understand how important this is?
“Can you help me find the table?” he asked at last. “I'm feeling a little weird standing here in the dark.”
She paused. “What should I do with the food?”
Hardison smiled in spite of himself. “Leave it. This'll just take a minute.”
Parker took his arm. Putting his hand on top of hers, Hardison had a moment of guilty relief as he let her guide him to the kitchen table. There was a little bit of awkwardness as she helped him sit down, and then he heard the soft bump and clatter of her taking her own seat.
“What's going on?” she asked. He felt her take his hand again, and squeezed it. The gesture on his part was a mixture of reassurance and desperation.
He sighed. “Parker, I need to start figuring out how to do for myself. I can't keep relying on y'all to take care of everything for me.”
“But we want to help,” Parker said. “And the doctors said you could get your sight back at any time. It's not a big deal.”
At any time. Yeah, he'd heard those conversations. Trauma to the optic nerve...sight could come back at any time... “Or not at all,” he said out loud with a sigh.
Parker's distress was obvious when she spoke again. “That's negative thinking. You're not supposed to be thinking negatively. It's not good. Nate said...”
Hardison swallowed. “Parker, I've talked to Nate. He's arranging for some people to come by.”
“People?” Parker asked. “You mean some kind of specialist for you?”
”I'm not equipped to determine what you're going to need if this turns out to be a long term condition. These people can look at your apartment and let us know what changes we need to make.”
Hardison had been grateful for the practical steadiness of the conversation. He'd felt like he was in physical and emotional free-fall since waking up in the hospital and realizing the extent of what had happened. “Hope is fine, Parker, but we have to be realistic. Yes, this could all go away tomorrow...” He sighed. “Or never. I can't put my life on hold for a miracle.”
She was quiet for a long moment – too long. Hardison strained to listen and realized to his horror that she was crying. “Oh Mama, no. No.” He put his free hand on top of their joined ones. “This is good. It's all good. I'm not wallowing. I'm moving forward. If I get my sight back awesome – I'm definitely not going to argue with the miracle.”
He paused, faltering. “I'm just sayin'...Parker, please don't cry.” His heart sank. He didn't want to hurt any of them – least of all Parker. Can't she see this is what I've got to do?
“I'm sorry,” she sniffed finally; her voice reaching his ears at last. “I'm being stupid.”
He felt himself smile again. “You're not stupid, Parker. You care. I appreciate that.” He swallowed. “More than I can say.”
“You don't understand,” she said. “I don't...” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I don't like thinking that you'll forget what I look like.”
Hardison felt the tears spill down his own cheeks then. “Parker, I could never forget what you look like. Trust me.”
He felt her move, felt her lips brush his forehead. “How about we get you some lunch?”
After some fumbling, Hardison was able to lay his hand against her cheek. “Would you think I was a complete nutcase if I asked you to take care of it for me?”
“Yes,” she said, and for just a moment Hardison imagined he could see her smiling.
Author:
telarynWord Count: 1285
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Hardison/Parker
Rating: G
Warnings: None really.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Hardison struggles to accept a radical change in his circumstances.
Author's Note: Written for angst_bingo, for the prompt "Disabled".
It wasn’t exactly urban legend material – as far as Hardison was concerned, it was just something you grew up knowing. You didn’t know where you’d learned it, just like you never remembered learning to talk or riding a bike or hacking a credit card company’s security system.
One day the knowledge was just…there. And you understood that when a person lost one sense, the other senses grew stronger in an attempt to compensate for the imbalance. If you were really lucky, you never found yourself in a position to test the theory, to experience first-hand that it was a process like any other. You never got lost in your own apartment. You never dealt with the humiliation, the helplessness – the loss of everything that had shaped the man you were.
Hardison was two weeks without his sight when he made it to his refrigerator for the first time without knocking anything over, breaking anything, or leaning on one of the others for support and guidance. The feel of the smooth, cool metal under his hands was such an overwhelming personal victory that he burst into tears.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Startled, the hacker turned towards the sound of Parker’s voice. “What? No…no…” He struggled to slow his breathing and convince his body he wasn’t about to be murdered by this particular intruder. “Mama, you gotta warn a guy when you come in.”
He felt her coming closer. For some reason he still wasn’t entirely clear on, he was more physically aware of Parker than the others. Which confused him, because arguably she was the quietest of all of them. On the other hand, he also found the connection immeasurably comforting – in his head he could twist it around as evidence that he wasn’t alone in his feelings about the two of them.
“Are you hungry?” He felt her brush past him and took a faltering step back, giving her room to get at the refrigerator. “I think there’s still some of that really good macaroni and cheese left.” True to form, Eliot had stocked the refrigerator with what had been described to Hardison quite colorfully as “a metric fuckton” of heat-and-eat dishes, with the promise of more as he ran out.
He heard the refrigerator door open, felt the blast of cold air, and struggled with the conflicting emotions suddenly raging inside him. “Parker, stop. Please.”
There was a long, painful silence, where Hardison lost the sense of her. He understood that she was close enough to touch, but was suddenly terrified to reach out and risk finding out he was wrong. “I was…” he began, then stopped. There was no way to say what he needed to without it sounding ungrateful. She just wants to help, and it would be easier to let her do it for you…
“I was going to cook it myself,” he said finally.
“Oh that's okay,” she said brightly. “I don't mind.”
Frustrated, Hardison waved his hands in front of his body, reaching in the general direction he thought Parker was still standing. A hand – slim and cool – wrapped around his fingers and squeezed reassuringly. “I'm right here,” she said.
Hardison took a deep breath. “Parker. I was going to do it myself.”
Another moment of silence. Hardison tried to imagine Parker's expression, but the exercise failed so completely that his eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I don't understand,” Parker said at last. “I was trying to help you...isn't that a good thing?”
Fumbling, Hardison reached for where her face should have been. Parker stayed quiet and motionless as he traced the lines of her expression with his fingertips. She was upset – he was upsetting her – and he hadn't wanted to do that. How can I make her understand how important this is?
“Can you help me find the table?” he asked at last. “I'm feeling a little weird standing here in the dark.”
She paused. “What should I do with the food?”
Hardison smiled in spite of himself. “Leave it. This'll just take a minute.”
Parker took his arm. Putting his hand on top of hers, Hardison had a moment of guilty relief as he let her guide him to the kitchen table. There was a little bit of awkwardness as she helped him sit down, and then he heard the soft bump and clatter of her taking her own seat.
“What's going on?” she asked. He felt her take his hand again, and squeezed it. The gesture on his part was a mixture of reassurance and desperation.
He sighed. “Parker, I need to start figuring out how to do for myself. I can't keep relying on y'all to take care of everything for me.”
“But we want to help,” Parker said. “And the doctors said you could get your sight back at any time. It's not a big deal.”
At any time. Yeah, he'd heard those conversations. Trauma to the optic nerve...sight could come back at any time... “Or not at all,” he said out loud with a sigh.
Parker's distress was obvious when she spoke again. “That's negative thinking. You're not supposed to be thinking negatively. It's not good. Nate said...”
Hardison swallowed. “Parker, I've talked to Nate. He's arranging for some people to come by.”
“People?” Parker asked. “You mean some kind of specialist for you?”
”I'm not equipped to determine what you're going to need if this turns out to be a long term condition. These people can look at your apartment and let us know what changes we need to make.”
Hardison had been grateful for the practical steadiness of the conversation. He'd felt like he was in physical and emotional free-fall since waking up in the hospital and realizing the extent of what had happened. “Hope is fine, Parker, but we have to be realistic. Yes, this could all go away tomorrow...” He sighed. “Or never. I can't put my life on hold for a miracle.”
She was quiet for a long moment – too long. Hardison strained to listen and realized to his horror that she was crying. “Oh Mama, no. No.” He put his free hand on top of their joined ones. “This is good. It's all good. I'm not wallowing. I'm moving forward. If I get my sight back awesome – I'm definitely not going to argue with the miracle.”
He paused, faltering. “I'm just sayin'...Parker, please don't cry.” His heart sank. He didn't want to hurt any of them – least of all Parker. Can't she see this is what I've got to do?
“I'm sorry,” she sniffed finally; her voice reaching his ears at last. “I'm being stupid.”
He felt himself smile again. “You're not stupid, Parker. You care. I appreciate that.” He swallowed. “More than I can say.”
“You don't understand,” she said. “I don't...” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I don't like thinking that you'll forget what I look like.”
Hardison felt the tears spill down his own cheeks then. “Parker, I could never forget what you look like. Trust me.”
He felt her move, felt her lips brush his forehead. “How about we get you some lunch?”
After some fumbling, Hardison was able to lay his hand against her cheek. “Would you think I was a complete nutcase if I asked you to take care of it for me?”
“Yes,” she said, and for just a moment Hardison imagined he could see her smiling.
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(no subject)
11/4/11 12:56 (UTC)*hugs them and you*
(no subject)
13/4/11 11:59 (UTC)I'm glad it worked. It's always a risk fic-wise beating up on Parker and Hardison.
(no subject)
18/4/11 01:05 (UTC)Anyoo! I'm going to scroll up now & attempt to leave useful feedback. If I flail too much I may not be able to do even that. Brb.
Ok LOVE the P/H connection in Hardison's new state, love how Parker is taking cues from the team & how the team is pretty much solidly behind Alec.
or hacking a credit card company’s security system. = Alec awesome funniness.
Meming!
(no subject)
6/9/11 08:22 (UTC)Hardison felt the tears spill down his own cheeks then. “Parker, I could never forget what you look like. Trust me.”
Full out sobbing.
Dammit!
Can you write a follow up where he gets his sight back now and the first thing he sees is Parker? *sniffles*
I promise to rec the fuck out of it :D
(no subject)
6/9/11 11:34 (UTC)Thank you!
Honestly, the odds of me writing a sequel are probably pretty slim - but never say never!
(no subject)
6/9/11 11:37 (UTC)I don't know what it is, I think it was the idea of Parker even imagining that he could ever forget what she looks like when he loves her like that. Just affected me. It's good though. :)