Originally posted by Todd's Pet
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My muse is manic this week and I've written another fic. I'm posting this one here because it's really a WWA minific as it's based on WWA/COH events, in particular TP's promise to elope with Steve on her 90th birthday!
Naturally, it;s called "The Promise"...
Naturally, it;s called "The Promise"...
Spoiler:
Watching her great grandchildren running around with their seemingly limitless energy, Babs tries to ignore the ache of arthritis in the base of her spine that grew heavier by the day. Not that she was complaining; at this age every day was a bonus to be cherished and enjoyed to the max.
“I’m a spaceman, Nannie, look at me!†Little Jamie runs up to where she sits, waving his toy space gun in all directions.
“I’m stronger than you,†his little sister, Lori retorts haughtily. “I’m a queen – queen of the space vampires!â€
Babs exchanges a wry grin with her son, knowing he remembers as clearly as she does the day she had first become obsessed with the Wraith, a fictional race of space vampires ruled by queens.
“Have you been telling my grandchildren tall tales again, Mum?†he teases.
“Never. Wraith worshipping must be genetically inherited,†she laughs, surprising herself at how croakily her voice comes out, but then at 89, she really is an old crone. Then she pulls herself up short – no she’s 90 today, this is her birthday. She remembers how she used to up her age to that of her next birthday weeks beforehand. Now she doggedly hangs on to every year, every month, every hour that she can.
It seems like only yesterday that she was 50 – how had she ever considered herself to be old at that age? Now she recalls her 50-year old self as if she’d been a mere slip of a girl. It had been an online birhtday party that year, but she remebers it as being one of the best, the most memorable.
Her decade birthdays have dogged her all her life through – every one had seen someone close to her die within 3 days of her birthday. At 10 it had been her dad’s father, at 20 her beloved grandad, at 30 her nan’s sister, at 40 her nan herself. Then at 50 it had been her husband’s sister, at 60 both her parents within days of each other, and at 80 her sweet, dear husbnad – albeit he had done well to get to 91 himself by then.
“You’ve got your boys to take care of you now – the green ones too, “ he’d told her, meaning not just her son and grandson but the fantasy Wraith who had been such a big part of both their lives for so many decades., something her husband had shared with patience, understanding and humour. Lord she misses that humour – even though, these days, it often hurts to laugh as hard as he had often made her do, even in her darkest days.
But today has been a wonderful day. Her son and his wife – an Australian, not Japanese as she had onc e believed her future daughter-in-law would be – had laid on a big family party for her. Even after almost 30 years in Australia, she never quite got used to her birthday falling at the start of winter instead of the beginning of summer as it had been in the country of her birth. She’d always looked forward to the cherry blossom heralding her birthday with frothy pink clouds of tiny flowers.
Now she lived in small wooden condo on the beach; her lifelong dream fulfilled, thanks to her son. She sits in her favourite rocking chair on her veranda, watching her daughter-in-law and granddaughter-in-law clear away plates, bowls and glasses, while Lori and Jamie sneakily slip an extra slice of birthday cake from the platter while their mother’s back is turned and their father and grandfather merley smile indulgently.
The sun is begnnning to dip toward the horizon, hanging there like a big red lanternm throwing shadow shapes across the sky. Normally she would sit for hours to watch the sunset, not venturing indoors until it was too dark to see and the cool night air made goosebumps on her arms. But she’s strangely tired tonight and try as she might, she just cannot stop her eyelids from drooping sleepily.
“You alright, Mum?†her daughter-in-law asks, lifting an empty coffee cup from the table beside her rocking chair.
“Yes, love, I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.â€
“You’ve had a big day – why don’t you have a nap?â€
“You know, I think I will,†Babs replies. “Just for an hour or so.†And she slowly coaxes her old bones to take her to her bedroom, where she lies down on top of her bed and falls asleep under the watchful gaze of the wraith portraits that had hung above her bed for almost 40 years now.
-oOO-
“That’s the kids off to bed. Shall we have some tea?â€
Lawrie looks up at his daughter-in-law’s question and replies, “That would be nice,†just as his gaze catches the clock above the mantle. “Look at the time!†he observes. “Mum’s been aslepp for more than 3 hours!â€
“Perhaps you should just leave her for the night, then,“ his wife suggests.
“I’ll just look in on her, “ he says. “Just to make sure she’s alright – and see if she’d like some tea.â€
The room is dark when Lawrie pokes his head around the door and he can’t tell if anyone is there or not. Carefully he turns the dimmer switch on the wall by the door until he can just see his mother lying on top of her bed, a soft smile of contentment on her face. He turns to leave but somehting makes him change his mind and he tip-toes into the room and up to the bed. Looking down at his mother, he lays his hand on her forehead. It’s cool.
-oOo-
Babs had wakened at a soft sound in her room, like someone tip-toeing in carefully. When she opened her eyes she saw the face that had been so beloved to her for so mamy decades now; his face so pale it almost glowed in the gloom of her room.
“Hello, Princess,†he said, smiling softly down at her. His eyes shone like little beacons and she knew she would go anywhere they led her. “You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you?â€
He took her hands in his as he spoke and gently lifted her to her feet, drawing her close to his own tall and slender frame. She could feel the heat of his body even through the heavy leather of his coat, the smell of the leather mingling with the spiced floral scent of his skin.
She reached up tentatively toward his shoulder and let her hand drift down the soft silk of his long, straight hair. The action reminded her of her age when she saw her gnarled, age-spotted and wrinkled hand against the flawless smooothness of his hair as it shone like silver threads under the light of the moon from her window.
As he dipped his head down to hers she caught a glimpse of them in the mirror on her dresser. Doesn’t he see, she wondered? She watched this tall, beautiful, forever young and handsome alien bend his head to kiss the gnarled old crone in his arms.
“I always loved your red hair,†he whispered in her ear, brushing his lips across her hair. “And now you’re mine, like you promised,†he said, reminding her of the lover’s oath she’d made so many years ago. Now her hair was white as his and she turned her head to mock herself in the mirror, but what she saw made her gasp. No white-haired crone, bent and aching from years of arthritis stared back at her. Instead she looked at the image of her youth – no, better than that – this was the tall, strong Amazon of her fantasies – her alter ego, TP.
Not pale rheumy eyes, tired and misted with age, intead she looked into clear, deep green eyes, sparkling with life and vigour, and framed by long, shining hair, the colour of a chestnut stallion.
And behind her, no apperition, but clear as day and solid as he rested his hands on her shoulders, was the Wraith she’d promised herself to all those decades ago. Steve had come for her just as he’d promised – and to make good on her promise to be his and his alone on her 90th birthday.
-oOo-
Lawrie knows his mother’s forehead is too cool, but it takes him a moment to understand what it means. Normally so capable, so self controlled, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do and feels hot tears prick the back of his eyes, his fingers trembling as they hover over his mother’s forehead.
He turns his head toward the doorway to call his wife, but the words never come because something catches his eye, and there, in the mirror on the dresser, he sees them.
He recognises his mum, although he’s never seen her look quite like that before, even when she’d been much younger and stronger.This is his mother as perfect as she can be and the sight of her like that, so strong and tall and beautiful, makes the tears spill over an drun down his cheeks.
But what makes him gasp is the man who stands at her side – not a man, for he recognises him as a wraith, and not just any wraith either, but the one he’d always teased his mother about so mercilessly, the one she called Steve, sometimes Deeplake.
Lawrie blinks, his logical mind unable to accept the evidence of his own eyes, but far from ridding him of this image, it only serves to make it appear clearer, more real, so real that he’d wear Steve actually winks at him – just as he’s sure he hears a deep, multi-layered voice tell him softly, “I’ll take care of her now...â€
And then the image fades to nothing as if it was never there. Turning back to his mum, lying so still and serene on her bed, he wonders how he’ll tell the family. But before he leaves her room, he bends to kiss her cheek and whispers, “Have fun, mum.â€
THE END
“I’m a spaceman, Nannie, look at me!†Little Jamie runs up to where she sits, waving his toy space gun in all directions.
“I’m stronger than you,†his little sister, Lori retorts haughtily. “I’m a queen – queen of the space vampires!â€
Babs exchanges a wry grin with her son, knowing he remembers as clearly as she does the day she had first become obsessed with the Wraith, a fictional race of space vampires ruled by queens.
“Have you been telling my grandchildren tall tales again, Mum?†he teases.
“Never. Wraith worshipping must be genetically inherited,†she laughs, surprising herself at how croakily her voice comes out, but then at 89, she really is an old crone. Then she pulls herself up short – no she’s 90 today, this is her birthday. She remembers how she used to up her age to that of her next birthday weeks beforehand. Now she doggedly hangs on to every year, every month, every hour that she can.
It seems like only yesterday that she was 50 – how had she ever considered herself to be old at that age? Now she recalls her 50-year old self as if she’d been a mere slip of a girl. It had been an online birhtday party that year, but she remebers it as being one of the best, the most memorable.
Her decade birthdays have dogged her all her life through – every one had seen someone close to her die within 3 days of her birthday. At 10 it had been her dad’s father, at 20 her beloved grandad, at 30 her nan’s sister, at 40 her nan herself. Then at 50 it had been her husband’s sister, at 60 both her parents within days of each other, and at 80 her sweet, dear husbnad – albeit he had done well to get to 91 himself by then.
“You’ve got your boys to take care of you now – the green ones too, “ he’d told her, meaning not just her son and grandson but the fantasy Wraith who had been such a big part of both their lives for so many decades., something her husband had shared with patience, understanding and humour. Lord she misses that humour – even though, these days, it often hurts to laugh as hard as he had often made her do, even in her darkest days.
But today has been a wonderful day. Her son and his wife – an Australian, not Japanese as she had onc e believed her future daughter-in-law would be – had laid on a big family party for her. Even after almost 30 years in Australia, she never quite got used to her birthday falling at the start of winter instead of the beginning of summer as it had been in the country of her birth. She’d always looked forward to the cherry blossom heralding her birthday with frothy pink clouds of tiny flowers.
Now she lived in small wooden condo on the beach; her lifelong dream fulfilled, thanks to her son. She sits in her favourite rocking chair on her veranda, watching her daughter-in-law and granddaughter-in-law clear away plates, bowls and glasses, while Lori and Jamie sneakily slip an extra slice of birthday cake from the platter while their mother’s back is turned and their father and grandfather merley smile indulgently.
The sun is begnnning to dip toward the horizon, hanging there like a big red lanternm throwing shadow shapes across the sky. Normally she would sit for hours to watch the sunset, not venturing indoors until it was too dark to see and the cool night air made goosebumps on her arms. But she’s strangely tired tonight and try as she might, she just cannot stop her eyelids from drooping sleepily.
“You alright, Mum?†her daughter-in-law asks, lifting an empty coffee cup from the table beside her rocking chair.
“Yes, love, I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.â€
“You’ve had a big day – why don’t you have a nap?â€
“You know, I think I will,†Babs replies. “Just for an hour or so.†And she slowly coaxes her old bones to take her to her bedroom, where she lies down on top of her bed and falls asleep under the watchful gaze of the wraith portraits that had hung above her bed for almost 40 years now.
-oOO-
“That’s the kids off to bed. Shall we have some tea?â€
Lawrie looks up at his daughter-in-law’s question and replies, “That would be nice,†just as his gaze catches the clock above the mantle. “Look at the time!†he observes. “Mum’s been aslepp for more than 3 hours!â€
“Perhaps you should just leave her for the night, then,“ his wife suggests.
“I’ll just look in on her, “ he says. “Just to make sure she’s alright – and see if she’d like some tea.â€
The room is dark when Lawrie pokes his head around the door and he can’t tell if anyone is there or not. Carefully he turns the dimmer switch on the wall by the door until he can just see his mother lying on top of her bed, a soft smile of contentment on her face. He turns to leave but somehting makes him change his mind and he tip-toes into the room and up to the bed. Looking down at his mother, he lays his hand on her forehead. It’s cool.
-oOo-
Babs had wakened at a soft sound in her room, like someone tip-toeing in carefully. When she opened her eyes she saw the face that had been so beloved to her for so mamy decades now; his face so pale it almost glowed in the gloom of her room.
“Hello, Princess,†he said, smiling softly down at her. His eyes shone like little beacons and she knew she would go anywhere they led her. “You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you?â€
He took her hands in his as he spoke and gently lifted her to her feet, drawing her close to his own tall and slender frame. She could feel the heat of his body even through the heavy leather of his coat, the smell of the leather mingling with the spiced floral scent of his skin.
She reached up tentatively toward his shoulder and let her hand drift down the soft silk of his long, straight hair. The action reminded her of her age when she saw her gnarled, age-spotted and wrinkled hand against the flawless smooothness of his hair as it shone like silver threads under the light of the moon from her window.
As he dipped his head down to hers she caught a glimpse of them in the mirror on her dresser. Doesn’t he see, she wondered? She watched this tall, beautiful, forever young and handsome alien bend his head to kiss the gnarled old crone in his arms.
“I always loved your red hair,†he whispered in her ear, brushing his lips across her hair. “And now you’re mine, like you promised,†he said, reminding her of the lover’s oath she’d made so many years ago. Now her hair was white as his and she turned her head to mock herself in the mirror, but what she saw made her gasp. No white-haired crone, bent and aching from years of arthritis stared back at her. Instead she looked at the image of her youth – no, better than that – this was the tall, strong Amazon of her fantasies – her alter ego, TP.
Not pale rheumy eyes, tired and misted with age, intead she looked into clear, deep green eyes, sparkling with life and vigour, and framed by long, shining hair, the colour of a chestnut stallion.
And behind her, no apperition, but clear as day and solid as he rested his hands on her shoulders, was the Wraith she’d promised herself to all those decades ago. Steve had come for her just as he’d promised – and to make good on her promise to be his and his alone on her 90th birthday.
-oOo-
Lawrie knows his mother’s forehead is too cool, but it takes him a moment to understand what it means. Normally so capable, so self controlled, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do and feels hot tears prick the back of his eyes, his fingers trembling as they hover over his mother’s forehead.
He turns his head toward the doorway to call his wife, but the words never come because something catches his eye, and there, in the mirror on the dresser, he sees them.
He recognises his mum, although he’s never seen her look quite like that before, even when she’d been much younger and stronger.This is his mother as perfect as she can be and the sight of her like that, so strong and tall and beautiful, makes the tears spill over an drun down his cheeks.
But what makes him gasp is the man who stands at her side – not a man, for he recognises him as a wraith, and not just any wraith either, but the one he’d always teased his mother about so mercilessly, the one she called Steve, sometimes Deeplake.
Lawrie blinks, his logical mind unable to accept the evidence of his own eyes, but far from ridding him of this image, it only serves to make it appear clearer, more real, so real that he’d wear Steve actually winks at him – just as he’s sure he hears a deep, multi-layered voice tell him softly, “I’ll take care of her now...â€
And then the image fades to nothing as if it was never there. Turning back to his mum, lying so still and serene on her bed, he wonders how he’ll tell the family. But before he leaves her room, he bends to kiss her cheek and whispers, “Have fun, mum.â€
THE END
Good location too
Originally posted by Todd's Pet
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Well, every cloud has a silver lining - more stories and paintings have got to be a good thing! 
*hugs*
*hugs*
I really need to start writing more... I get ideas, but never get the chance to write them down. Hopefully Addict's fb page will inspire me
(namely himself and plenty of chocolate 
Thank you for doing that for me *hugs* 
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