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Round One: Multi-Fandom
Eliza (red)
aaronlisa wrote in drabbletree
Welcome to the first round of drabbletree. This round will be multi-fandom, meaning that authors can write for any fandom that they wish. Round One will last for a week, which means it will end at 9:30PM PST on Monday August 17th. Please be sure to visit the rules before participating.

The theme for Round One will be endings as suggested by afteriwake. Each drabble written for this round should incorporate this theme. As well, each participant must leave a prompt of some sort at the end of their drabble. This prompt should be non-fandom specific, however it can relate to the theme, it can be a lyric, a song title, a colour or a word.

When commenting, please include the fandom, pairing, rating and prompt that you are replying to in the subject line.

If you have any questions, please refer to the Round One question post.

Angel; Cordelia (implied Cordelia/Angel); FR13

Leaving Sunnydale had been hard, but leaving Los Angeles had been even harder for Cordelia Chase. When she had been younger, she couldn’t wait to leave Sunnydale and become a famous actress. Los Angeles had always been the place where she thought that she would escape and become the person she had always dreamt she’d be. Cordelia had certainly escaped from Sunnydale but instead of becoming an actress she started dreaming new dreams. Her dreams now included saving people, kissing Angel, and being someone who wasn’t a vapid and vain little girl who thought that the world should revolve around her. Saying goodbye to Angel after setting him on the right track was harder than she had imagined it would and it tore her heart to pieces. She knew that he still needed her and that she still needed him but in the end it wasn’t meant to be.

Prompt: cinnamon

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CSI:NY, Lindsay Monroe, G - unshed tears

"You promised you weren't gonna cry."

Lindsay looked over at her mother, and the older woman gave her a brief look over the apartment full of cardboard boxes and half-filled suitcases, eyes shining with the tears she was trying so desperately not to let slip. She knew that if her mother got started, Lindsay wasn't going to be able to stop, and this wasn't supposed to be a sad thing, not really.

This was supposed to be good -- she was moving to New York, getting away from the things that still haunted her and moving on with her life. She didn't know exactly what was in store for her, but there was excitement there -- hope for something new over the horizon that wasn't there before. And yet, no matter what she said, she couldn't stop her mother from crying.

"Can't help it," the woman murmured, moving closer and wrapping her daughter in a warm embrace. "My baby's leaving me."

"I know," Lindsay said gently, returning the hug and keeping her mother close. "But it's a good thing."

"I know, sweetheart," she sighed as she pulled back. "But it still doesn't make it hurt any less."

Lindsay paused for a minute, pulling her mother back in again and ignoring the wet drops she felt against her shoulder. This was probably the last motherly hug she was going to get for a long time -- and she was going to savor that moment for all it was worth -- the end of Lindsay from Bozeman, Montana and the beginning of Detective Monroe from New York.

Prompt: commencement

BtVS, Xander & Willow, G - commencement

A lot of his graduation was a blur, what with the fight with the Mayor. It wasn't until it was all over and the school had been blown up that he realized it was over. No more school unless he chose to go, and considering how hard the normal parts of high school had been, he didn't really want to try. He was ecstatic.

And then he saw Willow, who looked even more depressed by the carnage than he expected. He went over to where she was sitting and put an arm around her shoulders. "Penny for your thoughts, Will?"

"I know that everything was going to go wrong, but...I wanted a real graduation," she said with a sigh. "I wanted my diploma and I wanted to go up and get it and I wanted...I wanted an actual graduation where we didn't have to fight massive evil."

He said nothing because there really wasn't anything to say. Instead, he pulled her closer and rested his cheek on the top of her head. For right now, that was all he could do.

Prompt: Loud music

House MD, Remy Hadley, PG - loud music

She waited until she heard the car pulling out of the driveway, before heading right for the stereo in her room and turning it up as loud as it would go. She knew that on some level she was being a stubborn brat and that one day she would regret it, but right now, she couldn't care less. Her mother stopped being her mother when her brain stopped cooperating.

But some part of her comprehended the loss -- what it meant for her and what it meant for her mother. Which is why when the tears started to come, she locked the door to her room and turned up the music, so that she wasn't alerting the baby-sitter. She wasn't sure what exactly she was crying for, but in the end she realized she was crying for what was ending -- what was over, and what she could never get back.

Prompt: comfortable silence

CSI: NY, Mac & Stella, G - comfortable silence

"Hey, Mac."

Mac looked up and saw Stella standing amidst the boxes in his office, holding up a bottle of scotch. "No champagne?"

She laughed and came over to his desk. "I figure you'll get that at the party tonight from Hawkes. This is just us."

"You know, we're still at work."

"No we're not," she said. "Your last shift here ended at five, and by coinicdence, as the new head of the crime labs, I ended my own shift at five, too. It's a new policy around here, Mac. Everybody better get used to it."

He grinned at her. "So, did you bring glasses?"

She thought for a second. "I thought you had some."

"They're in one of those boxes."

She groaned. "Oh, this didn't work out well at all."

He laughed and took the bottle from her. She responded by sitting on the edge of his desk. "It's all right, Stell. You and I can have a moment later where it's just us."

"Okay," she said with a nod. "You just better make sure I get some of that scotch because it's supposed to be really good."

"I will." He looked at her and took in the smile on her face and they lapsed into the silence that showed they truly didn't need words to get across just how much they cared about each other.

Prompt: Wind and rain

Supernatural, Jo Harvelle (implied Dean/Jo), PG13 - wind and rain

Every time Dean walked out the door, she always thought it would be the last time.

It wasn't so much anything he said or did, it was just the fact that it was Dean, and it was what he did. He was like a rough thunderstorm, the kind where the wind and rain swirled around you so hard that you couldn't see anything beyond what your hand could reach in front of you. Every time he left she swore that it would be the last time, but every time he came back, she was caught in that thunderstorm again, and she couldn't see forward or back, only what was right in front of her for that exact moment.

Dean would roll into town in that car of his, flash her that charming Winchester grin, and it was in that minute she was sold, done for, up that godforsaken creek with no way to get back down again, and she just couldn't say no. Then he would leave, and it would hurt just as much as the time before had, but he was just that damned good at making her forget why.

It wasn't until that car rolled up and he wasn't in it that she realized that what it was could have possibly been love. It wasn't until it was Sam's face in the doorway, telling her that Dean wasn't ever coming back. That he was stuck in a box somewhere, decaying, what was left of his body that hadn't been torn to shreds by hellhounds leeching into the ground that it had come from, that Dean's soul was down in Hell, and if -- when -- he ever came back, he was going to be so far gone from the person that she knew, the person that she loved -- that was when her heart stopped. The storm ended and all of the sudden there was dead silence.

And that was the scariest feeling she'd ever had.

Prompt: there's always one better

Firefly/Serenity, Mal, PG - there's always one better

Side note: that was *awesome*.

When Inara left he felt the ship change. It was as though a core section of the feelings of everyone in the ship just shifted. And then when Sheppard Book left for Haven, it shifted again. Mal was acutely aware of the shift in attitudes and feelings of his crew. He was a good captain; it was his job to be observant, and...well, he wouldn't have been a good captain if he hadn't noticed.

But he powered through it, thinking of the next job, looking at people to potentially rent Inara's old shuttle to, or passengers to fill up Sheppard Book's quarters for a momentary journey. Life moved on without them on the ship, and as captain, he had to move on, too. Even if it hurt the crew, they way he kept looking ahead and not missing the people who were gone, he had to do it. Because if he didn't, he'd realize that parts of him were empty now, too.

Prompt: wish i could find a way to disappear

Edited at 2009-08-12 01:19 am (UTC)

Firefly/Serenity, Inara (one-sided Mal/Inara), PG - wish I could find a way to disappear

Thanks! I actually really liked writing that one.

It was amazing how the choices of others could clarify things for you better than any choice you'd ever made for yourself.

Companions weren't supposed to fall in love, and moreover, she never wanted to fall in love with him, but it seemed that the old adage that the heart wants what the heart wants couldn't have been more true. And for some reason, her heart wanted Mal Reynolds. It was irrational, and illogical, just like he was, and she was sure that if she didn't do her best to ignore it entirely, she would greatly appreciate the irony.

The problem, however, didn't lie just in the fact that she was in love with an impossible man; she was in love with a man who didn't love her back. Finding Mal coming out of Nandi's room made that sign all the clearer and there was nothing she could do about that. She knew that in the end, the decision was made for her. This was the end of her time at Serenity.

For now, though, she just wanted to cry and see if she could make herself disappear.

Prompt: gone but not forgotten

CSI: NY, Stella/Hawkes, PG - gone but not forgotten

She didn't even jump when his arms dropped around her shoulders from behind. Her eyes closed for a moment as she felt his breath at her ear.

"Gonna come to bed?" Hawkes asked. Stella nodded. Words were failing her at the moment. Hawkes tipped his head up to look out the window with her, at the ever-awake city night. "We're all gonna miss her, Stell."

"I know," she said softly.

His arms tightened against her. "And it isn't fair."

"I know."

"What can I do for you?" He asked with a soft sigh.

"Nothing," she replied in a small voice. "I just...can't stop thinking that she'll never walk into the lab again." He kissed the side of her head gently. She leaned into the touch as she felt tears spring to her eyes. There had been too much death in too short of a time span. One death was always too much.

Stella didn't really have family, so she created it around herself instead. Each loss felt like a slammed door in her face, because the fact of the matter was, there would never be another Jessica Angell.

"I know," he whispered against her ear, despite the fact that she hadn't said a word.

prompt: whiskey lullaby

Edited at 2009-08-12 09:55 pm (UTC)

Supernatural, Sam Winchester, PG - whiskey lullaby

His brother was dead.

Every time it came to mind, the thought landed with a heavy plunk! in his stomach, and the thought never didn't come to mind. It hit him every time he got in the car, every time he woke up alone, every time he went to pick up the phone because it should have been Dean calling, and it wasn't. Dean was dead, and he was never going to call him again.

It wasn't as though Sam hadn't tried. He'd done what every Winchester before him had done -- he put his soul up on the auction block, but no demon seemed to want to bite. Offer after offer, and each one ending with a dead demon in front of him and no end in sight. All he wanted was his brother back. Why was that too much to ask? The rest of the demonic community seemed to want him dead anyway, why not guarantee it?

His thumb ran over the cold edge of the bottle of whiskey in his hand, and he decided that he was done trying. He was just going to drink himself into the easiest stupor he could and silently will the pain to come to an end. If the demons weren't willing to do it for him, and the angels didn't exist, than he was just going to have to end it his own way.

His head hit the bar and he closed his eyes, hoping that in the morning, he wouldn't have to wake up and feel that thought hit the pit of his stomach again.

Prompt: you and me

Burn Notice/Supernatural, Michael (implied Michael/Bela), PG- you and me

It took a long time for the anger and shock to wear off, but eventually it did, leaving Michael feeling lost in a way he hadn't known before. He pushed it behind himself of course, because he had a job to do and a life to live.

That life just wasn't going to include her anymore.

And with each client he helped, each potential saved life, he screamed inside his head a reminder that he hadn't saved her. Regardless if she would have let him try or not.

He'd learn to live with it. Learning to deal with the blows and keep going was something he had been doing his whole life.

It still kept him up nights, though. The thought of all that it was he lost when she died, and everything that he didn't lose, everything they hadn't gotten to yet. He'd seen that look in her eyes, a look he was sure he mirrored back; a look that there was something there between them. More than sex, more than the games, and it was something Michael was never going to get to figure out.

There had been a possibility of them, but now it was just him, and he was trying his best to accept that and move on.

prompt: with a little help from my friends

Edited at 2009-08-14 02:29 pm (UTC)

Eureka, Allison (mentions of Allison/Stark), PG - gone but not forgotten

She'd never forget him, she thought to herself as she put her hand on her ever expanding stomach. Carter had told her everything, about how Nathan had sacrificed himself to save everyone, but most importantly to save her. Little did he know he'd be saving their unborn child as well.

It would be hard, raising two boys on her own, especially one with Kevin's problems. But she would manage, and every time she'd look at her beautiful baby boy or girl, she hoped she'd be blessed to see Nathan in him or her. Especially Nathan's eyes...she had always loved staring into his eyes, and to see them on their child's face would fill her with such happiness.

So yes, Nathan was not going to be there, but at least she would never forget him, and she hoped to tell their child everything about their father, the hero.

Prompt: Irish whiskey

Heroes, Peter Petrelli, PG - Irish whiskey

He never was a whiskey man before Ireland, but afterward he found that he sort of liked it. There was this nice subtle burn to it that went down smooth and easy. He didn't drink it often, mostly when either he was hoping to feel nothing at all or when he felt there was something to celebrate, and those occasions, especially as of late, didn't come up all that often.

Now -- he wasn't quite sure which occasion this was.

This was the start of a new chapter. A chance for them to rebuild and start fresh again, to try and help people like them. To have a world where people with abilities could walk down the street and not worry about being kidnapped or killed or attacked for a thing they couldn't control and this time around, they thought they could do it. Peter was astounded by the way history repeated itself, but this time, everyone seemed confident that they could learn from their mistakes.

Sylar was gone. The companies were gone and the violent government witch hunt was over. Peter's family was together again, and he felt that he should be happier than he was, but there was something about this whole situation that made Peter think that he had lost something -- irreplaceable. And for that, he could celebrate completely.

He picked up the glass, swallowed the burn, and decided, for once, that even though he was celebrating, this was an occasion for feeling nothing at all as well.

Prompt: through the years

Cliff Angell, CSI: NY, PG - through the years

He'd been so proud of his little girl. Was up until the very day she was murdered. She had been a tomboy growing up, getting into softball and spending her time with her friends playing pick-up games in the street. When she'd gotten older the more feminine side had come out, and with it came his protective instincts and those of her brothers.

But when it had come to Don Flack, Jr. he'd known he would take care of his little girl. He hadn't worried in the slightest when she talked about how serious things were getting between them. It was like she was reliving the best moments of all the high school and college relationships she'd had, and he'd never been happier than to see her floating on cloud nine.

He should have known it was too good to last, though, and when she died he'd been happy that Flack had been there in as many of her last moments as the doctors would allow. He was a good man...his daughter had chosen well. And over the years, he'd learned to trust her judgement.

Prompt: boom

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