rareslash | Fic: 'T Minus'; Sea of Souls (Season 2)

Title: T Minus
Author:

girlofprey
Fandom: Sea of Souls
Pairing: None, but I like to think of it as leading to Craig/Wade :)
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. None of the situations are mine. I didn't invent any of the words. Please don't steal the order I put them in though.
Notes: I don't believe for a second that any one else besides me has even watched this show. But I suppose that makes it extra-rare. And you never know ;)
Summary: On the nature of a bond.

He gets back into the room, drops the key onto the drawers next to the door, and smiles a little as he crosses the room. That was fun. He’s never tried hurting anyone before. He can’t imagine why now – his head hasn’t felt this clear in years. Poor Craig. He’d say he wouldn’t wish his headaches on anyone, but...well.

Still smiling, he sits down, heavily, in the chair by the bed, and it’s not even ten seconds before the lights start flickering, and she’s whispering in his ear again, and the smile's right back off his face again.

" I’m lonely... "

And he closes his eyes and sighs, and lets his head fall back onto the leather, because what else can he do, really?

" We’re all lonely, Em, " he says, staring up at the ceiling. More just to say out loud than to say it to her.

There are a lot of things he wants to say out loud, just to say them.

(Does that mean I get a playmate too?)

Which is silly now, though, because he does have one, doesn’t he? He has Craig. Obnoxious, naïve, ultimately helpless Craig. He has Craig for however long this lasts, because whatever he says, or even whatever he thinks - Craig isn’t going anywhere until all this is over. It’s got nothing to do with choice. It’s not a matter of choice anymore. For either of them.

And, frankly, he could do a lot worse at this point. Because Craig may hate him, but the last thing he needs right now is another fucking fan. And he’s semi-knowledgeable, if not entirely open-minded, about things ‘outside the ordinary’. And he’s really, really easy to wind up. There are certainly less amusing things he could be doing with his time...

Craig’s mouth gets a little annoying eventually, of course. But it hasn’t done any actual damage so far. And he knows he can scare him now anyway, although the twit was never quite scared enough to fucking stop...

Which is –

(– something to get down on your knees and fucking worship, you piece of shit –)

– admirable really, he supposes.

Oh, no. They’re not going anywhere.

Till death do them part, he supposes, as the lights continue to flicker over his head and a little girl plays/doesn’t play in the corner. The sword of Damocles, and all that.

Roll on, roll on.