it is halloween and i have NO CANDY

[schmerica]

So I'm stealing this from hesychasm, because it looks interesting--

Ask me what happens after the end of one of my stories.

Those of you offended by the use of the imperative, feel free to read that as, "If you have any interest in doing so, you are welcome to ask me, etc, etc."

Also, what the heck; if you still want to ask any of my characters from my stories anything, feel free to do that, too.

Comments

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Hmmmmmm. I haven't talked with Nifra about it, but -- I think Ray goes home, back to his apartment, and goes to sit down and suddenly stops, and looks around, and thinks about how much he hates the place, all dark and cramped, filled with pointless junk. And he goes into his bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror and splashes his face with water, over and over, until he looks less pathetic and more just *mean*. And he goes down to the gym and puts on his boxing gloves and works out, punching and punching and punching, sweating it all out, trying to let his body just take control-- it's the only thing that's ever worked when everything has just gone to shit, and it almost works this time, too. But he can't stay there forever, and when he goes home again, it's like everything has Fraser written all over it. So he puts on music and dances alone around his living room until he's exhausted enough to fall asleep.

There's a message on his answering machine, but he doesn't listen to it until the next morning. Fraser, calling from a Canadian airport payphone, crackling and whistling. He says Ray's name, and then he starts one sentence after another, and doesn't finish any of them, and finally there's thirty seconds of silence before Fraser says "I'm sorry" and hangs up.

[nifra-idril.livejournal.com]

I'm with my esteemed co-author on that one, but let me add a little:


Ray's supposed to visit Fraser next, and he buys the ticket, packs the bag, takes the week off from work. He takes a cab to the airport, and he just stands there in front of the blinking board, holding his bag, holding his ticket, and there's this pounding behind his eyes, like a hang over but worse, and his legs feel heavy and he can't move, can't breathe nearly. He stands there, and he stands there, and he stands there, and the plane leaves without him and he goes home. He gets into bed and he doesn't get out for three days except to go to the bathroom and get a cup of tea, just like Fraser likes it, every now and then, even though he likes more sugar, but there's something about the way it tastes going down - bitter and hot - that he needs.

Fraser calls and Fraser calls and Fraser calls again, and then he doesn't and Ray thinks maybe that's it, maybe that's over, maybe now he can have a life without every morning waking up and wishing he was in that tent again, with the snow hard underneath him, and wind whistling over the tent and Fraser's broad back a big shadow from outside hovering over him. He thinks maybe he'll be able to sleep again, maybe he'll be able to breathe again, maybe he won't feel so tired, so old, maybe, maybe...

He thinks maybe he can get over Fraser, seeing as he managed to get over Stella, and then he rolls over and stares at the wall until his eyes water.

**

Two days later, he's parking down the street from his apartment when he sees it, and he thinks that's it, he's finally lost it. He's going crazy, totally fucking crazy, except then he sees it again - a flash of red, a tilt of the head, the long straight stride he's used to seeing, and there's Fraser's face, white and pinched, old like Ray's never seen Fraser look.

Fraser stops in front of Ray's building, looks up at the apartment, and then turns around to face the street. He squares his shoulders, puts his hand behind his back, stands at attention like he's on sentry duty at the Consulate and Ray just sits behind his steering wheel, his breath fogging up the window by his face and stares until his arms are moving, his legs are moving without him and then he's there, standing face to face with Fraser who's eyes slide slowly to his face.

Ray opens his mouth, tries to say something, but he can't think of anything until Fraser's hand, white and shaking, reaches out, touches his glove.

"Ray," Fraser says, "please."

[c-regalis.livejournal.com]

Oh. God. You both kill me here.

Um. *thinks* Okay, nobody can blame me for trying, right?

What happens next?