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fandomweekly2017-02-13 09:55 am
sealrat) wrote in fandomweekly2017-02-13 09:55 am
Entry tags:
[#032] Patience for the Unknown (Original)
Theme Prompt: #032 - Phobia
Title: Patience for the Unknown
Fandom: Original Universe
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 971
Summary: It's hard to maintain a dark image when he's listening to Sinatra. Set some time after More Than a Weapon.
"I didn't take you for a Sinatra fan." The remark was from Devin's doorway. Sam was leaning against the frame, watching the vampire read at his desk. Devin knew he was there, having heard him coming down the hall some time ago. He'd simply been waiting to see what Sam was doing here.
"And what did you take me for, doctor?" Devin raised his eyes from the book, smiling slightly.
"Secretive." The younger man grinned. "May I come in?"
"Please."
Sam straightened and walked the rest of the way into the room, shutting the door behind him. Devin leaned away from his desk, expression wary. Anything that demanded privacy, particularly with Sam, was worthy of suspicion in his book.
"I'd tell you to relax, but I'm not sure you're capable of it." The vampire's gaze narrowed slightly. "I'm teasing."
"Yes, I'm aware," Devin returned slowly. "Though I'm not sure why."
"Because you need someone to inject a little lightness into your life, and you're not going to get that from the rest of the crew." Sam drifted a few steps closer. "They take your gloomy demeanor at face value."
"And you don't?"
"You're listening to Sinatra," the doctor said, gesturing to the speakers. "That kind of ruins the image."
After a moment, the Brit held his hands up in surrender. "Guilty as charged. I enjoy some classic American music. Are we done with the psychoanalysis for the evening?"
"We can be," Sam allowed, and then smiled softly. He held a hand out, palm up, in Devin's direction. "Dance with me." The vampire stared at Sam's hand blankly; he may as well have been offering a bear trap for all that Devin comprehended the request. "Come on, the door is closed. What's there to lose?"
"A great deal, I'm afraid," Devin sighed, and he turned back to his reading. The doctor got a little closer, arm still outstretched, and waited. The gesture alone suggested that he wasn't taking no for an answer. Exasperated: "Sam."
Playful: "Devin."
"Is this really necessary?"
"Unless you want to forcibly remove me from the room, yes." When the vampire stubbornly refused to move, Sam came right up to him and propped himself against the desk. His hand remained out. "What are you afraid of?"
"Nothing." Devin paused. "Well, spiders."
Sam laughed, and the sound was joyful in Devin's ears. He couldn't help but smile a little, though his instincts told him to hide it. "Really? Spiders?"
"No, but I didn't think you'd believe me if I said I was afraid of nothing."
"I guess that means you're not afraid of dancing, mm?"
Sam raised his eyebrows in expectation, wiggling his fingers in front of Devin's eyes. He waited again; and silently, slowly, without acknowledging the concession, the vampire reached out and took his hand. The doctor pulled Devin to his feet and towards an area of open space, settling his free hand on Devin's shoulder.
"I'll let you lead," Sam murmured as Devin slid a hand over his hip.
"That's wise, you're quite a bit shorter than me," Devin returned. The attempt at teasing fell a little flat against the vulnerability that flickered across his face. He hadn't been this close to another person, hadn't been touched with anything other than cruelty and repulsion and clinical interest, in a long time.
They swayed back and forth for a while, the vacuum filled by the voice of Frank Sinatra. It was one of Sam's most powerful tools to let the silence carry and see how Devin chose to answer it. That answer, for now, seemed to be in the form of movement and not words, until Devin let Sam get close enough to rest his head against the vampire's shoulder. Devin was tense, but graceful all the same.
"I lied," Devin admitted at great length.
"About?"
"There are things I fear. One thing more than any other." Devin's voice was barely audible.
"Mm. I know." Sam raised his head from Devin's shoulder, smiling. The vampire looked bemused. "We all have fears. Anyone who says they don't is either in denial or genuinely mad. There's nothing shameful about being afraid of something, even if it's irrational."
"Oh? And what is it you fear?" Devin wanted to know, using the question to cover his own confusion about everything that was happening here.
"I have a phobia of deep water," Sam replied with an uncaring shrug. "I got pushed underwater when I was three or four, before I knew how to swim, and since then I've always had trouble even going in the deep end of a pool. I haven't gone off a diving board since I was fourteen. It's worse when I can't see the bottom."
"That sounds like more of a fear of the unknown than deep water," Devin observed, spinning the doctor out of his arms gently and then drawing him back in.
Sam laughed quietly. "Maybe. But I thought we were done with psychoanalysis for the evening? Besides, that's my job, not yours," the doctor reminded him.
"Fair enough." Devin lapsed into silence once more. Another song came on, slower than the previous one, and it wasn't until halfway through that he spoke again. "You haven't asked me what I'm really afraid of," he pointed out quietly.
"Sharp as ever," Sam teased.
This close, it was hard for Devin to maintain the illusion that he was unbreakable, hard to keep the mask on when the last person he'd danced with like this had tried to kill him. Hard to pretend this wasn't striking something deep and painful in his unbeating heart.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll tell me when you're ready," Sam said simply.
Devin swallowed the knot that had suddenly formed in his throat, and looked away. "You may be waiting a while."
"I'm patient."
Title: Patience for the Unknown
Fandom: Original Universe
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 971
Summary: It's hard to maintain a dark image when he's listening to Sinatra. Set some time after More Than a Weapon.
"I didn't take you for a Sinatra fan." The remark was from Devin's doorway. Sam was leaning against the frame, watching the vampire read at his desk. Devin knew he was there, having heard him coming down the hall some time ago. He'd simply been waiting to see what Sam was doing here.
"And what did you take me for, doctor?" Devin raised his eyes from the book, smiling slightly.
"Secretive." The younger man grinned. "May I come in?"
"Please."
Sam straightened and walked the rest of the way into the room, shutting the door behind him. Devin leaned away from his desk, expression wary. Anything that demanded privacy, particularly with Sam, was worthy of suspicion in his book.
"I'd tell you to relax, but I'm not sure you're capable of it." The vampire's gaze narrowed slightly. "I'm teasing."
"Yes, I'm aware," Devin returned slowly. "Though I'm not sure why."
"Because you need someone to inject a little lightness into your life, and you're not going to get that from the rest of the crew." Sam drifted a few steps closer. "They take your gloomy demeanor at face value."
"And you don't?"
"You're listening to Sinatra," the doctor said, gesturing to the speakers. "That kind of ruins the image."
After a moment, the Brit held his hands up in surrender. "Guilty as charged. I enjoy some classic American music. Are we done with the psychoanalysis for the evening?"
"We can be," Sam allowed, and then smiled softly. He held a hand out, palm up, in Devin's direction. "Dance with me." The vampire stared at Sam's hand blankly; he may as well have been offering a bear trap for all that Devin comprehended the request. "Come on, the door is closed. What's there to lose?"
"A great deal, I'm afraid," Devin sighed, and he turned back to his reading. The doctor got a little closer, arm still outstretched, and waited. The gesture alone suggested that he wasn't taking no for an answer. Exasperated: "Sam."
Playful: "Devin."
"Is this really necessary?"
"Unless you want to forcibly remove me from the room, yes." When the vampire stubbornly refused to move, Sam came right up to him and propped himself against the desk. His hand remained out. "What are you afraid of?"
"Nothing." Devin paused. "Well, spiders."
Sam laughed, and the sound was joyful in Devin's ears. He couldn't help but smile a little, though his instincts told him to hide it. "Really? Spiders?"
"No, but I didn't think you'd believe me if I said I was afraid of nothing."
"I guess that means you're not afraid of dancing, mm?"
Sam raised his eyebrows in expectation, wiggling his fingers in front of Devin's eyes. He waited again; and silently, slowly, without acknowledging the concession, the vampire reached out and took his hand. The doctor pulled Devin to his feet and towards an area of open space, settling his free hand on Devin's shoulder.
"I'll let you lead," Sam murmured as Devin slid a hand over his hip.
"That's wise, you're quite a bit shorter than me," Devin returned. The attempt at teasing fell a little flat against the vulnerability that flickered across his face. He hadn't been this close to another person, hadn't been touched with anything other than cruelty and repulsion and clinical interest, in a long time.
They swayed back and forth for a while, the vacuum filled by the voice of Frank Sinatra. It was one of Sam's most powerful tools to let the silence carry and see how Devin chose to answer it. That answer, for now, seemed to be in the form of movement and not words, until Devin let Sam get close enough to rest his head against the vampire's shoulder. Devin was tense, but graceful all the same.
"I lied," Devin admitted at great length.
"About?"
"There are things I fear. One thing more than any other." Devin's voice was barely audible.
"Mm. I know." Sam raised his head from Devin's shoulder, smiling. The vampire looked bemused. "We all have fears. Anyone who says they don't is either in denial or genuinely mad. There's nothing shameful about being afraid of something, even if it's irrational."
"Oh? And what is it you fear?" Devin wanted to know, using the question to cover his own confusion about everything that was happening here.
"I have a phobia of deep water," Sam replied with an uncaring shrug. "I got pushed underwater when I was three or four, before I knew how to swim, and since then I've always had trouble even going in the deep end of a pool. I haven't gone off a diving board since I was fourteen. It's worse when I can't see the bottom."
"That sounds like more of a fear of the unknown than deep water," Devin observed, spinning the doctor out of his arms gently and then drawing him back in.
Sam laughed quietly. "Maybe. But I thought we were done with psychoanalysis for the evening? Besides, that's my job, not yours," the doctor reminded him.
"Fair enough." Devin lapsed into silence once more. Another song came on, slower than the previous one, and it wasn't until halfway through that he spoke again. "You haven't asked me what I'm really afraid of," he pointed out quietly.
"Sharp as ever," Sam teased.
This close, it was hard for Devin to maintain the illusion that he was unbreakable, hard to keep the mask on when the last person he'd danced with like this had tried to kill him. Hard to pretend this wasn't striking something deep and painful in his unbeating heart.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll tell me when you're ready," Sam said simply.
Devin swallowed the knot that had suddenly formed in his throat, and looked away. "You may be waiting a while."
"I'm patient."
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