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ladybug_archiveI've been pondering over a Good Enough For You fic where Sherry has amnesia and Gin is trying to get her to remember. Naturally, he is impatient. XD; And then this blurb popped up and wouldn't go away, and since it perfectly fits the challenge idea I needed, I decided to use it for my claim. I dunno if I'll ever actually write this whole story, but I absolutely adore the blurb. X3
Because it is only a blurb/scene, I'm still debating on posting it at FF.net. Meanwhile, I guess it'll be here.
Detective Conan
Honesty and Trust
By Lucky_Ladybug
Notes: The characters are not mine, and the story is! This is a scene from a story that may or may not ever be written in its entirety, but it came to me and would not go away, and I am extremely pleased with how it came out. It exceeded all my expectations for it. It has been written in answer to Challenge #24, A True Friend Stabs You In The Front, at 30 Friends. It does take place in the Good Enough For You timeline, but the focus is on Gin and Vodka.
Gin jumped at the sound of the door slamming upstairs. It may as well have been a gunshot wound to his heart. She no longer remembered him. She hated him, was terrified of him, and he could not do anything about it. He was completely helpless. Any attempts he made to get her to remember were filled with his desperate, often aggressive, impatience. He knew it only made it worse, but in a situation like this he did not, could not, have the quiet acceptance that Vodka always seemed to possess. Vodka was stronger than he was.
Every time she looked at him, her eyes blank and confused, his emotions spilled over and he could not stand it. A few minutes ago he had grabbed her, demanding that she recall him, and she had become frightened, tearing away from him to run to the guest room where she insisted on staying. She would not sleep with him when she did not know him, she had said. And she had said that she did not even know how they had ever gotten married. She did not know why she would have wanted someone like him.
"Bro?"
Gin started, turning around at the sound of his partner's voice. He had not even heard Vodka come in, but here he was, nervously shifting his weight and apparently trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind. Gin crossed his arms, looking at the other coldly.
"What."
Vodka shifted again, looking down at the floor and away from the blonde's penetrating gaze. "Bro . . . I . . . I know this is hard for you," he said slowly. "I mean . . . I can't even imagine what it's like, but I know you're suffering. . . ." He swallowed hard, tugging at his tie. "Sherry's suffering too. . . . I mean . . . she never wanted to forget you. . . . She must be really confused right now. . . ." He looked as though he would rather be anywhere else, but here he was, facing a man who was capable of becoming very violent right now. Gin's pain almost always came out aggressively when he was to this point, and Vodka wondered if he even dare continue what with he was trying to say. Still, he felt it important.
"Bro . . . I . . . I think that what might help the most right now would be if you could give her some space and some time," he choked out, still speaking to the floor. "I . . . I know you're desperate, I know you're hurting, but . . ." His words caught in his throat, and he had to struggle for several endless moments before he could get them free from his lips. "The way you're handling this isn't going to help her remember you. It's . . . it's just pushing her away!" He could only manage to speak in a whisper, but the resulting silence made him feel as if he had shouted from the very roof.
Why did Gin not do anything? He did not reply, or strike Vodka, or any of the things the stout man was expecting. Had he actually even heard? It seemed an eternity had passed since Vodka had said those fateful, stabbing, truthful words. Slowly he dared to look up again.
Gin was staring at him, his expression twisted in a furious, outraged, hateful way. His eyes flamed, and Vodka felt that he would surely be burned if he did not escape that piercing, loathing gaze. Why could he not sink into the floor right now? Why had he spoken at all? He wished that he had not attempted it. And yet, how could he have continued to stand by and do nothing? Gin's actions were not only hurting Sherry, but Gin himself, and Vodka could not bear that. He had only wanted to carefully point it out, to try to help Gin see the damage he was doing, but he had known that Gin would hate him for it. He had known, and yet he had spoken anyway. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment.
"Shut up."
The words hit harder than Vodka had thought they would. He had expected so many reactions from Gin, so many angry words, but not that. Gin had only said that to Vodka one other time in the many years they had known each other. He did not like the term; he had always respected Vodka's feelings and thoughts. But in the past when he had been about to break, feeling helpless and hating himself, he had told those words to Vodka in the darkest moment of their friendship. And now he had said them again. He was at the end of his figurative rope.
Gin hated himself worse when he saw Vodka's shocked expression. There had been fear on Sherry's face a moment before, when Gin had acted roughly without meaning to. And even with the sunglasses hiding his eyes, it was obvious that Vodka was now hurt. Gin hated Vodka's words, he hated that the other had dared to say them, but that was not what he hated most.
He turned away, not wanting to face his partner any longer. Behind him, he could hear that Vodka was slowly turning around as well, heading out of the room. But in spite of Gin's cold rebuke, and even though he was certain he deserved the solitude, he did not want to be alone. And he did not want to leave things like this.
"Sorry, Vodka."
The heavyset man froze, stunned for the second time in the past five minutes. Had he heard correctly? He had not expected an apology, even one delivered in such a frustrated, bitter tone. From Gin, such words were few and far between, and he only spoke them when he completely meant them and felt that he had been in the wrong. At this time, the green-eyed man had a right to be angry. Vodka did not blame him for what he had said, even though he had to admit that he had been hurt by it.
He turned back. Gin was still not facing him, but his shoulders had slumped in weary defeat. The fight had gone out of him. This, perhaps, disturbed Vodka more than anything else. That was not the way it should be. He did not want to see the other looking as though he was giving up.
"I hate that you're right."
Vodka swallowed hard, walking over slowly to the other man. He raised his hand, but then hesitated, unsure of what Gin would think of such an action. Would he jerk away? Would he push Vodka back from him? Would he say something else biting? Somehow it did not seem likely. He looked completely broken, and Vodka could not bear seeing him that way.
Gin gave a violent start when Vodka's hand came to rest on his shoulder. For a moment he simply froze, doing nothing. But then he slowly relaxed again, letting the other stay there. He did not shy away from the rare physical contact. Sometimes Gin wondered why Vodka never tried to voluntarily leave. Vodka had always stayed, had always been loyal. Even with the words Gin despised, Vodka had been willing to risk Gin's anger and had tried to help the blonde. He would have remained silent if not for that.
"I know, bro. . . ."
They remained there in silence for a long moment.
At last Gin glanced over at the shorter man, his eyes tired. "Will she ever remember me, Vodka?" He looked vulnerable right then, his helplessness and his heartache obvious. Vodka could not meet that gaze.
He shook his head, feeling equally helpless. "I don't know, bro. . . ."
It was not what Gin wanted to hear. But it was an honest answer. And Gin was grateful for that. He did not want false, sugar-coated statements meant to make him feel better. Even though he hated when Vodka spoke the truth in cases like this, it was the very fact of his willingness to do so that made Gin respect and trust his partner. He would not be as likely to do so if Vodka was always too afraid to speak his mind.
Now the blonde nodded wearily. "That makes two of us." He did not smirk, as he had in the past when making that statement. He sounded as exhausted and worn-out as he looked.
"I'm sorry, bro. . . ."
A grunt. "It's not your fault."
". . . Are you going to talk to Sherry?"
"Later. I doubt she wants to see me right now."
". . . Probably not. . . ."
Gin wanted to smirk, he wanted to say that eventually she would want to see him, but he could not muster the strength. And so he simply continued to stay there with the other. He was not willing to admit it consciously, but it was a comfort.
I rewrote the ending three, maybe even four or five times. It just wasn't cooperating. XD;
Because it is only a blurb/scene, I'm still debating on posting it at FF.net. Meanwhile, I guess it'll be here.
Detective Conan
Honesty and Trust
By Lucky_Ladybug
Notes: The characters are not mine, and the story is! This is a scene from a story that may or may not ever be written in its entirety, but it came to me and would not go away, and I am extremely pleased with how it came out. It exceeded all my expectations for it. It has been written in answer to Challenge #24, A True Friend Stabs You In The Front, at 30 Friends. It does take place in the Good Enough For You timeline, but the focus is on Gin and Vodka.
Gin jumped at the sound of the door slamming upstairs. It may as well have been a gunshot wound to his heart. She no longer remembered him. She hated him, was terrified of him, and he could not do anything about it. He was completely helpless. Any attempts he made to get her to remember were filled with his desperate, often aggressive, impatience. He knew it only made it worse, but in a situation like this he did not, could not, have the quiet acceptance that Vodka always seemed to possess. Vodka was stronger than he was.
Every time she looked at him, her eyes blank and confused, his emotions spilled over and he could not stand it. A few minutes ago he had grabbed her, demanding that she recall him, and she had become frightened, tearing away from him to run to the guest room where she insisted on staying. She would not sleep with him when she did not know him, she had said. And she had said that she did not even know how they had ever gotten married. She did not know why she would have wanted someone like him.
"Bro?"
Gin started, turning around at the sound of his partner's voice. He had not even heard Vodka come in, but here he was, nervously shifting his weight and apparently trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind. Gin crossed his arms, looking at the other coldly.
"What."
Vodka shifted again, looking down at the floor and away from the blonde's penetrating gaze. "Bro . . . I . . . I know this is hard for you," he said slowly. "I mean . . . I can't even imagine what it's like, but I know you're suffering. . . ." He swallowed hard, tugging at his tie. "Sherry's suffering too. . . . I mean . . . she never wanted to forget you. . . . She must be really confused right now. . . ." He looked as though he would rather be anywhere else, but here he was, facing a man who was capable of becoming very violent right now. Gin's pain almost always came out aggressively when he was to this point, and Vodka wondered if he even dare continue what with he was trying to say. Still, he felt it important.
"Bro . . . I . . . I think that what might help the most right now would be if you could give her some space and some time," he choked out, still speaking to the floor. "I . . . I know you're desperate, I know you're hurting, but . . ." His words caught in his throat, and he had to struggle for several endless moments before he could get them free from his lips. "The way you're handling this isn't going to help her remember you. It's . . . it's just pushing her away!" He could only manage to speak in a whisper, but the resulting silence made him feel as if he had shouted from the very roof.
Why did Gin not do anything? He did not reply, or strike Vodka, or any of the things the stout man was expecting. Had he actually even heard? It seemed an eternity had passed since Vodka had said those fateful, stabbing, truthful words. Slowly he dared to look up again.
Gin was staring at him, his expression twisted in a furious, outraged, hateful way. His eyes flamed, and Vodka felt that he would surely be burned if he did not escape that piercing, loathing gaze. Why could he not sink into the floor right now? Why had he spoken at all? He wished that he had not attempted it. And yet, how could he have continued to stand by and do nothing? Gin's actions were not only hurting Sherry, but Gin himself, and Vodka could not bear that. He had only wanted to carefully point it out, to try to help Gin see the damage he was doing, but he had known that Gin would hate him for it. He had known, and yet he had spoken anyway. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment.
"Shut up."
The words hit harder than Vodka had thought they would. He had expected so many reactions from Gin, so many angry words, but not that. Gin had only said that to Vodka one other time in the many years they had known each other. He did not like the term; he had always respected Vodka's feelings and thoughts. But in the past when he had been about to break, feeling helpless and hating himself, he had told those words to Vodka in the darkest moment of their friendship. And now he had said them again. He was at the end of his figurative rope.
Gin hated himself worse when he saw Vodka's shocked expression. There had been fear on Sherry's face a moment before, when Gin had acted roughly without meaning to. And even with the sunglasses hiding his eyes, it was obvious that Vodka was now hurt. Gin hated Vodka's words, he hated that the other had dared to say them, but that was not what he hated most.
He turned away, not wanting to face his partner any longer. Behind him, he could hear that Vodka was slowly turning around as well, heading out of the room. But in spite of Gin's cold rebuke, and even though he was certain he deserved the solitude, he did not want to be alone. And he did not want to leave things like this.
"Sorry, Vodka."
The heavyset man froze, stunned for the second time in the past five minutes. Had he heard correctly? He had not expected an apology, even one delivered in such a frustrated, bitter tone. From Gin, such words were few and far between, and he only spoke them when he completely meant them and felt that he had been in the wrong. At this time, the green-eyed man had a right to be angry. Vodka did not blame him for what he had said, even though he had to admit that he had been hurt by it.
He turned back. Gin was still not facing him, but his shoulders had slumped in weary defeat. The fight had gone out of him. This, perhaps, disturbed Vodka more than anything else. That was not the way it should be. He did not want to see the other looking as though he was giving up.
"I hate that you're right."
Vodka swallowed hard, walking over slowly to the other man. He raised his hand, but then hesitated, unsure of what Gin would think of such an action. Would he jerk away? Would he push Vodka back from him? Would he say something else biting? Somehow it did not seem likely. He looked completely broken, and Vodka could not bear seeing him that way.
Gin gave a violent start when Vodka's hand came to rest on his shoulder. For a moment he simply froze, doing nothing. But then he slowly relaxed again, letting the other stay there. He did not shy away from the rare physical contact. Sometimes Gin wondered why Vodka never tried to voluntarily leave. Vodka had always stayed, had always been loyal. Even with the words Gin despised, Vodka had been willing to risk Gin's anger and had tried to help the blonde. He would have remained silent if not for that.
"I know, bro. . . ."
They remained there in silence for a long moment.
At last Gin glanced over at the shorter man, his eyes tired. "Will she ever remember me, Vodka?" He looked vulnerable right then, his helplessness and his heartache obvious. Vodka could not meet that gaze.
He shook his head, feeling equally helpless. "I don't know, bro. . . ."
It was not what Gin wanted to hear. But it was an honest answer. And Gin was grateful for that. He did not want false, sugar-coated statements meant to make him feel better. Even though he hated when Vodka spoke the truth in cases like this, it was the very fact of his willingness to do so that made Gin respect and trust his partner. He would not be as likely to do so if Vodka was always too afraid to speak his mind.
Now the blonde nodded wearily. "That makes two of us." He did not smirk, as he had in the past when making that statement. He sounded as exhausted and worn-out as he looked.
"I'm sorry, bro. . . ."
A grunt. "It's not your fault."
". . . Are you going to talk to Sherry?"
"Later. I doubt she wants to see me right now."
". . . Probably not. . . ."
Gin wanted to smirk, he wanted to say that eventually she would want to see him, but he could not muster the strength. And so he simply continued to stay there with the other. He was not willing to admit it consciously, but it was a comfort.
I rewrote the ending three, maybe even four or five times. It just wasn't cooperating. XD;
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Date: 2007-01-30 04:44 am (UTC)They address each other by those names in private, because they are what I think of the characters as. XD (Well, I think of Sherry equally as Sherry and Shiho, but eh.) They use different aliases in public, as I think I've alluded to several times, but I've never tried to come up with what said aliases are. ^^ I contemplated revealing the names, but honestly, I just can't see my way clear always writing for Gin by using some other name. ^^;
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Date: 2007-01-30 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-31 01:03 am (UTC)Maybe while not seeing them as part of the Organization any more, I see that they will always bear parts of that past. The people who were "Gin" and "Vodka" will probably never entirely escape who they were under those aliases, and somehow I imagine Gin continuing to call himself "Gin" in private, perhaps partially as a reminder of a life he can never forget. In one of the stories, not sure if you read it, but Vodka is musing for a moment on Gin continuing to call him Vodka in private.
I don't know, I probably will reveal their new public aliases in some story or another, but it would seem weird to sit here penning a story about, say, "Erik", always calling him "Erik", when he's still Gin to me. XD; Maybe that's the real reason why some people like to think that Gin's real name is, well, Jin. LOL.