Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Steve/Diana (Diana does not appear in this chapter)
Genres: Angst, Challenge, Drama
Rating (this chapter): R
Claim: For the dcu_freeforall Challenge (Diana/Steve)
Prompt: T 12; P 42: Scar/Scarred
Prompt Count: (13/15)
Warnings (this chapter): Memories of rape.
Spoilers: For Stained Glass I: Shattered.
General Summary: Steve struggles to come to terms with what happened to him on an alien planet.
Chapter Summary: The nightmares won’t stop.
Date Of Completion: December 11, 2009
Date Of Posting: April 11, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 452
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
THE COLD, COLD SEA
In a necklace,
On the sea.
I once was,
Emily Adams Cutler
"Yellow Roses And Other Poems"
“Come on, Yellowhair, let’s see what you’ve got. Mmm, you taste good for a man who lets his woman lead him around by the nose.”
The weight crushed him as he fell to his knees, the hard ground scraping naked skin as he struggled to breathe, fetid breath warm on the back of his neck, jagged teeth ripping into his flesh as pain lanced between his legs…
Steve bolted upright in bed, heart racing as his body shook, his scream fading as the wind howled around the cottage, rattling the windows. Looking around wildly, he realized he wasn’t on G’darra anymore. He buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down.
Still shivering, he got out of bed. There would be no more sleep tonight.
He dressed in warm clothes, jeans and blue-and-white checked flannel shirt, and workboots. He shrugged on a heavy winter coat, putting on a dark-blue knit cap and heavy, fleece-lined gloves. A long, dark-blue scarf was wound around his neck, and he went out into the cold.
He gasped a little. It was bone-chilling cold, the wind slicing through him, but he welcomed it. He needed to feel something besides raw pain.
The waves crashed on the rocks as he walked along the beach. The Atlantic was gray-green, roiling under a leaden sky, the horizon lighter, indicating snow on the way.
Steve hunched his shoulders against the wind, letting his Celtic blood register the sights and sounds, welcoming numbness.
He was so tired of hurting.
He was tired of failing those he loved, of constantly fighting to keep the memories of what had happened to him on an alien planet from overwhelming him like the waves over the New England rocks, of feeling like jagged shards of glittering, blood-tinged glass that could hurt himself…and others.
He closed his eyes, the wind shrieking mournfully like a lost soul.
Just like me.
The howling grew louder and Steve blocked his ears, shaking as he tried to block it out, stumbling onto the sand.
He was cold, so cold, inside and out, and he couldn’t get clean, no matter what he did…
He tore off his coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, threw off his boots and ran into the ocean, gasping as the icy-cold water hit his body, but he pushed forward desperately, needing to get clean, get clean…!
He plunged into the frigid sea.