more Crusilla fic - final chapter
May. 11th, 2005 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stoney321Hey, campers! I'm nervous about this last piece, so be gentle. I'll take concrit (but would prefer it in email, as I'm a wuss today.) For those reading for the first time: not shippy. Character study, character dynamics. Work safe. But Dru is a tricksy one.
So. First part here
Second part here
and
Family - The Ties That Bind
Author: Stoney321, beta'd by Crazydiamondsue
Disclaimer: I don't own, make money, or have dinner with the characters from Joss' playpen. I do have coffee with them, but that's between me and my lord.
Rating: It's clean, but Dru can be scary. Don't read this to three year olds. No squicks.
Summary: Set between Season 3 and 4 of AtS. How Connor filled his time while "searching" for his dad. And who found him.
*~*~*~
Part Three
It was becoming more and more difficult for Connor to slip out of the Hyperion without raising suspicion. Connor expected it would be Gunn who finally caught him at his secret meetings, but Fred saw far more than Gunn ever would. Fortunately, her soft spot for Connor having been lost like she once was went a long way to quelling her suspicions. It was hard for the boy to not be smug with a job accomplished. He would cause a fight, pretend to be upset about the lack of leads on his "father," and storm out of the hotel, barely able to hold in his grin as he walked through the door.
As the summer wore on, he looked Fred in the eye less and less. But he had to see Her. They didn't talk much. Usually, when his sister talked, it made very little sense to him. He didn't understand her songs, or her references to tales peculiar to this world. However, her voice was soothing to him. Even though her lullabies were confusing in their context, the sentiment behind them was not.
Tonight, he sat at her feet in the abandoned shed, his head in her lap, arms loosely circling her ankles. She stroked his fine, brown hair, tickled his face with her long fingernails, and told him tales of Daddy.
"So much evil. Everything he touches becomes evil, doesn't it? Am I evil?" Connor muffled his voice in the folds of her skirt.
"No. Not yet. Oh, he was so wicked, my love. And Daddy always savored his meals. A gentleman with table manners, he was. He always took from the right, and passed on the left. And ladies first... But Mummy- Mummy would have liked you best."
Drusilla walked her fingertips over his skull, then raked his hair back from his face. Connor dug his cheek firmly into her lap. His hands tightened for a brief moment on her thin ankle.
"Mummy would have loved how you were taken from Angelus. How you came back wanting to kill him."
"I... I thought Darla was good when I was born? That she... sacrificed herself."
"That wasn't the real Mummy. But yes, she did. So many sacrifices for you, my Connor. So much upheaval at your birth, at your death."
"Drusilla. I'm right here. I'm not dead."
"You will be. And it will be glorious."
He knew she claimed to see the future. She had said enough truth mixed in with her nursery tales and songs for him to recognize what was - would be, he corrected - true.
"Can you," he broke off, rubbing his eyes on the thin cotton material covering her knee, "do you see how?" A deep breath to steady himself. He was a warrior, after all, and expected to die fighting. "Am I in battle?"
"Yes. You are wrapped in unmade fire, women and children screaming in fear around you. You've killed an innocent. And you don't care."
Drusilla hums, and lays her head on her brother's hair.
"I would never kill an innocent person." He pulls away from her and puts his back against the opposite wall and feels the hateful scowl settle on his face.
"Tsk tsk. Never say never. And one day, you'll deny me three times."
He knew it was another reference to something particular in this world. He sat still, head back against the wall, and reassessed his sister.
"Poor brother. Hanging there with a dagger in your side. You won't have wailing women to wash your feet with oil, nor dry you with their hair. You'll be left to hang with the other sinners and cry out to your father who hast forsaken thee. And you so badly want to make a grand BANG!" Drusilla clapped her hands together and jumped to her feet.
She spun and whirled down into a crouch before Connor. He made fists of his hands at his side. She jabbed a sharp nail into his side.
"I wonder, does it bleed? Tut tut, little dove. I don't want to hurt you. Oh, I want to eat you all up, but you aren't for my dinner, are you?"
She stood and looked down into his face; her eyes knew all of his secrets to come. She held out her hand to him and pulled him to his feet. She put one of his hands about her waist, the other in her hand and stood straight.
"Come, come. Follow me. One, two, three, One, two, three..."
Awkwardly, he began to move, but he was a quick learner and sure of foot. She laughed when she felt him take the lead.
"The little dog laughed to see such a sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon!" She stopped suddenly, shaking her hands to push him back, away from her. Her voice trembled. "No, no. We can't run away, can we? It will be so much worse if I take you, and he'll know. And it isn't for you to come. You must stay here and have your medicine. Besides, winter is almost upon us."
"It's August."
"Yes, my Connor, but he's located Daddy."
*~*~*~*~
They didn't say goodbye. They didn't make plans to meet again; they never did. He would feel the need for her, and he would simply come to her. Or, he would feel her mind slipping and she would become silent, that was his signal to leave. This time, he stood in the doorway longer than usual. He knew he wouldn't be coming back.
"I remember what you wanted me to say. The lines you taught me.
Curly locks, Curly locks, wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine;
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream."
His last vision of Drusilla was her laughing, dancing a small jig with her skirts pulled up slightly in her hands. She giggled and bowed at him, then waggled her fingers in a goodbye.
*~*~*~*~
She doesn't want to hear anymore. She doesn't want to know about her brother. She doesn't want to hear that he will forget her when Daddy plays his lawyer tricks. That he'll not remember his sister, not remember that someone loves him simply because he is himself. He will become a shadow, scented with sunshine and puppies and pink girls bouncing, but never being touched. That one day he'll remember everything and be broken like her. She doesn't want me to See anymore, so to stop my mouth, she covers my eyes with the red ribbon, sets me on her lap, and wraps my silken filaments about her finger and smoothes my white dress. I'm silent. For now.
So. First part here
Second part here
and
Family - The Ties That Bind
Author: Stoney321, beta'd by Crazydiamondsue
Disclaimer: I don't own, make money, or have dinner with the characters from Joss' playpen. I do have coffee with them, but that's between me and my lord.
Rating: It's clean, but Dru can be scary. Don't read this to three year olds. No squicks.
Summary: Set between Season 3 and 4 of AtS. How Connor filled his time while "searching" for his dad. And who found him.
*~*~*~
Part Three
It was becoming more and more difficult for Connor to slip out of the Hyperion without raising suspicion. Connor expected it would be Gunn who finally caught him at his secret meetings, but Fred saw far more than Gunn ever would. Fortunately, her soft spot for Connor having been lost like she once was went a long way to quelling her suspicions. It was hard for the boy to not be smug with a job accomplished. He would cause a fight, pretend to be upset about the lack of leads on his "father," and storm out of the hotel, barely able to hold in his grin as he walked through the door.
As the summer wore on, he looked Fred in the eye less and less. But he had to see Her. They didn't talk much. Usually, when his sister talked, it made very little sense to him. He didn't understand her songs, or her references to tales peculiar to this world. However, her voice was soothing to him. Even though her lullabies were confusing in their context, the sentiment behind them was not.
Tonight, he sat at her feet in the abandoned shed, his head in her lap, arms loosely circling her ankles. She stroked his fine, brown hair, tickled his face with her long fingernails, and told him tales of Daddy.
"So much evil. Everything he touches becomes evil, doesn't it? Am I evil?" Connor muffled his voice in the folds of her skirt.
"No. Not yet. Oh, he was so wicked, my love. And Daddy always savored his meals. A gentleman with table manners, he was. He always took from the right, and passed on the left. And ladies first... But Mummy- Mummy would have liked you best."
Drusilla walked her fingertips over his skull, then raked his hair back from his face. Connor dug his cheek firmly into her lap. His hands tightened for a brief moment on her thin ankle.
"Mummy would have loved how you were taken from Angelus. How you came back wanting to kill him."
"I... I thought Darla was good when I was born? That she... sacrificed herself."
"That wasn't the real Mummy. But yes, she did. So many sacrifices for you, my Connor. So much upheaval at your birth, at your death."
"Drusilla. I'm right here. I'm not dead."
"You will be. And it will be glorious."
He knew she claimed to see the future. She had said enough truth mixed in with her nursery tales and songs for him to recognize what was - would be, he corrected - true.
"Can you," he broke off, rubbing his eyes on the thin cotton material covering her knee, "do you see how?" A deep breath to steady himself. He was a warrior, after all, and expected to die fighting. "Am I in battle?"
"Yes. You are wrapped in unmade fire, women and children screaming in fear around you. You've killed an innocent. And you don't care."
Drusilla hums, and lays her head on her brother's hair.
"I would never kill an innocent person." He pulls away from her and puts his back against the opposite wall and feels the hateful scowl settle on his face.
"Tsk tsk. Never say never. And one day, you'll deny me three times."
He knew it was another reference to something particular in this world. He sat still, head back against the wall, and reassessed his sister.
"Poor brother. Hanging there with a dagger in your side. You won't have wailing women to wash your feet with oil, nor dry you with their hair. You'll be left to hang with the other sinners and cry out to your father who hast forsaken thee. And you so badly want to make a grand BANG!" Drusilla clapped her hands together and jumped to her feet.
She spun and whirled down into a crouch before Connor. He made fists of his hands at his side. She jabbed a sharp nail into his side.
"I wonder, does it bleed? Tut tut, little dove. I don't want to hurt you. Oh, I want to eat you all up, but you aren't for my dinner, are you?"
She stood and looked down into his face; her eyes knew all of his secrets to come. She held out her hand to him and pulled him to his feet. She put one of his hands about her waist, the other in her hand and stood straight.
"Come, come. Follow me. One, two, three, One, two, three..."
Awkwardly, he began to move, but he was a quick learner and sure of foot. She laughed when she felt him take the lead.
"The little dog laughed to see such a sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon!" She stopped suddenly, shaking her hands to push him back, away from her. Her voice trembled. "No, no. We can't run away, can we? It will be so much worse if I take you, and he'll know. And it isn't for you to come. You must stay here and have your medicine. Besides, winter is almost upon us."
"It's August."
"Yes, my Connor, but he's located Daddy."
*~*~*~*~
They didn't say goodbye. They didn't make plans to meet again; they never did. He would feel the need for her, and he would simply come to her. Or, he would feel her mind slipping and she would become silent, that was his signal to leave. This time, he stood in the doorway longer than usual. He knew he wouldn't be coming back.
"I remember what you wanted me to say. The lines you taught me.
Curly locks, Curly locks, wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine;
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream."
His last vision of Drusilla was her laughing, dancing a small jig with her skirts pulled up slightly in her hands. She giggled and bowed at him, then waggled her fingers in a goodbye.
*~*~*~*~
She doesn't want to hear anymore. She doesn't want to know about her brother. She doesn't want to hear that he will forget her when Daddy plays his lawyer tricks. That he'll not remember his sister, not remember that someone loves him simply because he is himself. He will become a shadow, scented with sunshine and puppies and pink girls bouncing, but never being touched. That one day he'll remember everything and be broken like her. She doesn't want me to See anymore, so to stop my mouth, she covers my eyes with the red ribbon, sets me on her lap, and wraps my silken filaments about her finger and smoothes my white dress. I'm silent. For now.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:27 pm (UTC)Phweh. :-D
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:54 pm (UTC)Dayum, back at you! Thank you so very, very much. I have to admit I didn't feel the Connor love until the Cordy/Connor squick scene. I figured out that he just has NOTHING. He was lied to and cheated and just wants a moment of stillness. My opinion, of course. :-D Thank you for your lovely words!! (And I hope to make you care for Connor a bit more?)
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:55 pm (UTC)Poor Connor. Poor Dru. Angel's like this big broken sun that these equally broken planets spin around. Or he's full of gas and gives people sunburn.
You do brilliant comedy but I love these just as much.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 03:57 pm (UTC)*buys you a pony made of CHOCOLATE and BOOZE*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 04:09 pm (UTC)You perfectly captured them. And there's this sense of haunting, fragileyetstill brutal poetry to Dru. And to the tone of the whole piece....I don't know if I'm making sense. It gives me chills - in a very good, and very real way, like some wonderful gothic horror story.
"Yes. You are wrapped in unmade fire, women and children screaming in fear around you. You've killed an innocent. And you don't care." and
"...So many sacrifices for you, my Connor. So much upheaval at your birth, at your death."
"Drusilla. I'm right here. I'm not dead."
"You will be. And it will be glorious."
*sigh*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 04:26 pm (UTC)Spike is definitely Uranus. Definitely. Either that or a black hole that sucks everything into it.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 04:33 pm (UTC)Love the way it's so tactile, fingers, fingernails, hair, ribbons - i think making the reader really feel somebody's hand in theirs is way more skillful and expressive than most paragraphs of sweaty bonking...
also like the dynamic of opposites, like they are shadows of each other, but it keeps shifting, which of them is dammned and which of them is righteous. Or should that be 'righteous'. Very dense, very poignant, shifting from visual to tactile to dialogue:
'She stroked his fine, brown hair, tickled his face with her long fingernails, and told him tales of Daddy.
"So much evil. Everything he touches becomes evil," ' Like there. Did I say before how this gives the story a sort of internal energy that's satisfying? Because it's like a snapshot, a still moment in the middle of the crazy supernatural soap opera, but it's very dynamic.
Also, I'm not sure I've ever read anything with Drusilla so crazy, that's so empathetic to her.
Saving Annie the Musical for when i'm not so busy. But do I get another virtual night on the town? With gardens, motorbikes and unlimited flirting please.
O, and mother's day was ages ago for us.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 04:34 pm (UTC)*wipes computer screen*
My love for you is a black hole: sucking EVERYTHING into. The most naturally funny person EVAH! *points to you*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 05:05 pm (UTC)I try to write how I "see" it, I don't know how to write otherwise, and there are so many great fanfic writers out there that are so talented with imagery, symbolism, layers... I finally figured out it was less stressful for me to just put down what's happening in my head instead of trying to compete with the Great Ones (IMO) out there in fic-land.
My goal with this was for Dru to have the crazies die down a bit with Connor in her presence. And she is so broken, and I think so very angry about being broken, and no one to play with her.
*adds you to the list of those getting ponies*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 05:07 pm (UTC)You *KNOW* I've been re-reading the Yellow Wallpaper to be accurate with her brand of crazy, right?
*pets Dru*
*with a ten foot pole*
My love for you is boundless. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 05:28 pm (UTC)I'm the M. Night Shamalan of fanfic! But without the "bad guy" picking the worst planet, given its weakness. Hee!!
*twirls you*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 07:37 pm (UTC)Drusilla walked her fingertips over his skull, then raked his hair back from his face.
That is a perfect Dru move. Very nice detail.
scented with sunshine and puppies and pink girls bouncing
That is an absolutely *gorgeous* turn of phrase. Wonderful job. Thank you for writing this.
On another subject, I found a parody-type fic that you might enjoy. It's called Sunnydale Passions by
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 07:50 pm (UTC)And thank you, thank you for your comments on this fic. I'm cuddling it to my bewbies in gratitude.
*smooches you all over*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 07:52 pm (UTC)But... Connor. Jesus. Both sacrificed by their fathers for the good of all... In a way. :-D
no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-11 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-12 02:25 am (UTC)I'm soooo not the most naturally funny person ever, though my hair is naturally gorgeous. Hey, when we meet I'm just going to sit there and not say anything because that would be amusing. For me I mean, for you it will just be uncomfortable and boring.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-12 06:25 am (UTC)I'm going to wind up quoting stuff other people have already quoted, but these are my favorite parts:
"You are wrapped in unmade fire, women and children screaming in fear around you. You've killed an innocent. And you don't care." Referencing what in my opinion is THE best Connor episode ever, "Inside Out", where he decides to let Cordy/Jasmine sacrifice the virgin. His struggle in that part is just agonizing.
"You'll be left to hang with the other sinners and cry out to your father who hast forsaken thee. And you so badly want to make a grand BANG!" At first I wondered why Future!Connor would feel Angel had forsaken him, then realized it would be when Angel tried to "save" him from Jasmine by giving him the Cordelia-blood treatment. He saw that as a betrayal, of course.
"You must stay here and have your medicine. Besides, winter is almost upon us." This is simply beautiful and apt. The "medicine" image -- you're using the Christ theme, so of course I flashed to "take this cup away from me."
And that whole last paragraph, which just sent a shock right through me when I realized what it was all about! Miss Edith! Gave me chills.
*off to print out*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-12 06:39 am (UTC)Sometimes I wonder if my allusions and references are lame, or trite, or... well. Thanks. And as the the "wrapped in unmade fire," that's a reference to "Home" where Angel tries to stop Connor from committing suicide, and taking out the whole sports store with him. Oh, that episode BREAKS me.
And Hooray for Miss Edith giving you chills. That was what I was going for - not some comical rug pulling, so I'm glad it worked that way for you.
*hugs you SO HARD*