The Rest of my Life - Flashback Fic for
rp_shadesofgray
Oct. 1st, 2009 01:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"This is the mess I've made. These are the words I can't erase. This is my life support, shutting down, for the final time."
-The Rest of my Life by Less Than Jake
*About 6 months ago*
The air is so cold. I should have grabbed a heavier jacket. I walk slowly to the waiting car, a small suitcase in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. I can send for the rest of my things once I find a place to live. Not that there’s much to send for. Most everything that is mine isn’t mine. It’s the property of The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. At least it made packing easy.
I turn and look at the huge mansion of a house that disguised the basement BPRD headquarters. I’ve done it what feels like 1000 times before. It’s only been thirteen times, though. This time was different; Broom is dead, there’s too much anger and hurt feelings between Hellboy and I, and everyone seems to think this is my fault.
Is it?
I stare a moment hoping, wishing, praying someone will come out and tell me not to leave. Red, Myers, Abe…Hell even Manning. Someone tell me I didn’t screw everything up. Tell me it’s not my fault. Tell me I'm not a terrible person, that you can't force love and Red will forgive me, eventually.
Tell me there’s something here for me still.
Is there?
I sink into the backseat of the car and ask to be taken to the airport. I have enough money to get a plane ticket and a crappy motel for a few weeks, until I get on my feet. I browse the background information packet they give BPRD agents that leave. At least they let me keep my name. It's common enough, I suppose.
I’ll have to find a job. Something that’s quite and not too stressful; maybe a nice desk job. I have the experience helping Broom out with all his paperwork and filing. He didn’t trust the people the FBI sent in, he wanted someone he knew he could trust 100% helping him; he said I was perfect for that. He did have a few boxes he insisted on sorting himself. Some personal stuff, letters and photographs. It was none of my business, but I was curious. I’m always curious; too curious sometimes. I guess that’s what happens when you’re trained to look for the things no one else in the world looks for.
I can hear my own voice echo in my head. “I can take care of myself!” I shouted at Red before I walked out of him room for the last time. Can I though? New York is a big city. How can a girl who grew up in a government agency make it there…for the rest of her life?
“You said that the last time!” Red’s words assault my memories again. He has no idea how bad I feel about the last time I left. All those people at Bellamie, dead because I can’t keep it together. The security cameras in Broom’s office picked up that Rasputian had admitted to putting those memories in my head while I slept. If I had control, I wouldn’t have exploded, memories or not.
Damn it.
I pay for the plane ticket in cash after presenting my identity set in place by BPRD. I board the plane and settle down in my seat, staring out the window. I hate flying. I look over at the older women seated next to me, a newspaper sectioned out in front of her. She’s reading the gossip pages and ignoring the rest.
“May I?” I ask softly, eying the classified section.
“Of course, dear.” She smiles genuinely at me. It’s the first smile I’ve seen in weeks that is actually heartfelt, and it’s from a total stranger. Figures.
I search the job listings. Nothing jumping out at me that I can actually do and pass an interview without giving away too much of my history. I have the background in place for just such an occasion, but I get confused sometimes. I hate lying so much. No suitable apartments, either. Damn.
“You’re a freak, I’m a freak. Only natural” I shake my head a bit as the plane takes off and I close my eyes, Red’s words invading my thoughts again.
“I’m not a freak.” I mutter under my breath without realizing it.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” The old woman looks up and smiles at me again.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and smile back, weakly.
I’m not a freak. Not anymore. I’m just a normal person now.
-The Rest of my Life by Less Than Jake
*About 6 months ago*
The air is so cold. I should have grabbed a heavier jacket. I walk slowly to the waiting car, a small suitcase in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. I can send for the rest of my things once I find a place to live. Not that there’s much to send for. Most everything that is mine isn’t mine. It’s the property of The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. At least it made packing easy.
I turn and look at the huge mansion of a house that disguised the basement BPRD headquarters. I’ve done it what feels like 1000 times before. It’s only been thirteen times, though. This time was different; Broom is dead, there’s too much anger and hurt feelings between Hellboy and I, and everyone seems to think this is my fault.
Is it?
I stare a moment hoping, wishing, praying someone will come out and tell me not to leave. Red, Myers, Abe…Hell even Manning. Someone tell me I didn’t screw everything up. Tell me it’s not my fault. Tell me I'm not a terrible person, that you can't force love and Red will forgive me, eventually.
Tell me there’s something here for me still.
Is there?
I sink into the backseat of the car and ask to be taken to the airport. I have enough money to get a plane ticket and a crappy motel for a few weeks, until I get on my feet. I browse the background information packet they give BPRD agents that leave. At least they let me keep my name. It's common enough, I suppose.
I’ll have to find a job. Something that’s quite and not too stressful; maybe a nice desk job. I have the experience helping Broom out with all his paperwork and filing. He didn’t trust the people the FBI sent in, he wanted someone he knew he could trust 100% helping him; he said I was perfect for that. He did have a few boxes he insisted on sorting himself. Some personal stuff, letters and photographs. It was none of my business, but I was curious. I’m always curious; too curious sometimes. I guess that’s what happens when you’re trained to look for the things no one else in the world looks for.
I can hear my own voice echo in my head. “I can take care of myself!” I shouted at Red before I walked out of him room for the last time. Can I though? New York is a big city. How can a girl who grew up in a government agency make it there…for the rest of her life?
“You said that the last time!” Red’s words assault my memories again. He has no idea how bad I feel about the last time I left. All those people at Bellamie, dead because I can’t keep it together. The security cameras in Broom’s office picked up that Rasputian had admitted to putting those memories in my head while I slept. If I had control, I wouldn’t have exploded, memories or not.
Damn it.
I pay for the plane ticket in cash after presenting my identity set in place by BPRD. I board the plane and settle down in my seat, staring out the window. I hate flying. I look over at the older women seated next to me, a newspaper sectioned out in front of her. She’s reading the gossip pages and ignoring the rest.
“May I?” I ask softly, eying the classified section.
“Of course, dear.” She smiles genuinely at me. It’s the first smile I’ve seen in weeks that is actually heartfelt, and it’s from a total stranger. Figures.
I search the job listings. Nothing jumping out at me that I can actually do and pass an interview without giving away too much of my history. I have the background in place for just such an occasion, but I get confused sometimes. I hate lying so much. No suitable apartments, either. Damn.
“You’re a freak, I’m a freak. Only natural” I shake my head a bit as the plane takes off and I close my eyes, Red’s words invading my thoughts again.
“I’m not a freak.” I mutter under my breath without realizing it.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” The old woman looks up and smiles at me again.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and smile back, weakly.
I’m not a freak. Not anymore. I’m just a normal person now.