Die Hard Ficlet
Jan. 11th, 2021 06:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cmk418I received the prompt "I hope you step on a Lego" for this week's Weekend Challenge at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words. Took a few days to figure out who in my fandoms had kids and this popped into my head this morning.
This is the worst time for Holly's image to come to him unbidden- in the middle of a gunfight, bullets flying, and glass breaking all around him. And the way it comes, looking pissed off and unsympathetic. He knows that look. All he can tell his brain is “Not now, honey.”
Not now, honey.
He's finally away, in a spot where he can deal with the pain. Fucking high-rises don't have a lot of readily accessible first aid kits, but he makes do with what he can find.
His mind goes back to Holly, to that moment, sometime near the end of her time in New York, when he was too busy with a case to pay her much attention. Jack wasn't too far away, building some fantastic structure out of the Lego blocks they'd given him for his birthday. “Not now, honey,” was what John had said then, right when she was ready to tell him something important.
She'd gritted her teeth and given him that look and said, “I hope you step on a Lego.”
He laughs, thinking about it now, pulling bits of jagged broken glass from his feet. Not exactly the equivalent, but close. He wonders if she remembers the fight.
He wishes he could go back in time and take it all back, wishes he could pry himself away from whatever case that was- so minor that it's been long forgotten- and listen to what she was about to tell him. Maybe he would have fought it, maybe he'd have told her he wanted her there with him.
Now, he's sitting here biting back the pain because he never did.
1_million_words. Took a few days to figure out who in my fandoms had kids and this popped into my head this morning.This is the worst time for Holly's image to come to him unbidden- in the middle of a gunfight, bullets flying, and glass breaking all around him. And the way it comes, looking pissed off and unsympathetic. He knows that look. All he can tell his brain is “Not now, honey.”
Not now, honey.
He's finally away, in a spot where he can deal with the pain. Fucking high-rises don't have a lot of readily accessible first aid kits, but he makes do with what he can find.
His mind goes back to Holly, to that moment, sometime near the end of her time in New York, when he was too busy with a case to pay her much attention. Jack wasn't too far away, building some fantastic structure out of the Lego blocks they'd given him for his birthday. “Not now, honey,” was what John had said then, right when she was ready to tell him something important.
She'd gritted her teeth and given him that look and said, “I hope you step on a Lego.”
He laughs, thinking about it now, pulling bits of jagged broken glass from his feet. Not exactly the equivalent, but close. He wonders if she remembers the fight.
He wishes he could go back in time and take it all back, wishes he could pry himself away from whatever case that was- so minor that it's been long forgotten- and listen to what she was about to tell him. Maybe he would have fought it, maybe he'd have told her he wanted her there with him.
Now, he's sitting here biting back the pain because he never did.
