http://clampfix.fanworks.net/others/fragile.txt </head><body><pre>I'm crazy. O.o I have no idea why I'm doing this... I have been incredibly blocked lately when it comes to my writing, so I swore to force myself into writing something instead of having an endless stream of false starts and early endings. The way I planned on doing this was to enter the next challenge/contest that was posted on any of my various mailing lists, and this hourfic challenge came up first. I thought of the idea at work, and then typed it up when I got home. It's very short, but then again, I knew that to push it any further would be to lose editing time and possibly detract from the fic itself. Sooo, I didn't try to make it longer than it needed to be. Obligatory warning: I have only read a translation of volume 4 of Clover. I have seen scans from the manga, and heard comments on the manga, but I still do not trust this to be at all accurate. I'd really appreciate it if someone who was very knowledgeable about the series could point out my mistakes and inconsistencies to me so that I can fix them in the future -- I love this series, and would prefer to write fanfic for it as accurate as possible. ^_^;; Thanks for being tolerant. And by the way, since I've never posted here before, I'll introduce myself: My name is k, and it's nice to meet you. ^_^ I've been enjoying the stories hitting my mailbox; they're all wonderfully written! Anyway...onwards. Title: Fragile Author: k Date: 07 July Archive: Anywhere - but please tell me, just so I know! Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except for the mistakes. x_x I know that A is awake long before I return to consciousness. His fear flutters in the back of my mind like a wild bird, and his hands move frantically over my body, clawing at my shoulders, prodding at my chest, clinging to my wrists. He doesn't bother to vocalize my name. He doesn't need to. His urgency is enough to pull me from my sleep, and I open my eyes slowly, to see his face hovering above mine, eyes glittering in the faint starlight. It's so strange to see him upset. It doesn't seem like a single face could hold so many opposites. But it can, I suppose. That single face holds my kindness; B's sadness; A's instability. Our weakness. "...a nightmare," I murmur, and feel a teardrop --not my own-- splash against my cheek. A nods, and whispers back, "I had...." /I had a nightmare./ Sometimes, the three of us share nightmares. But this is different. This is A's nightmare, not mine. I sit up, offering my hand to him, and feel strangely comforted by the way he grasps it like a rope to safety. "Your nightmare," I say in the darkness. A is looking down now, eyes wide. "You love me less." A nightmare of such terrifying proportions condensed and packaged in four little words. I am aware of the way A's hands shake faintly against my own, waiting for me to either confirm or deny this nightmare sentiment. "I love you....best," I whisper. A crushing weight on my chest causes that minute hesitation. For anyone else, this hesitation would be meaningless. But not for A. Never for A. Every word seems self-incriminating around him. I am aware of the third mind in the darkness, of eyes (my eyes, our eyes) watching from somewhere that is not in front of me. And I feel an aching sadness. This can't last much longer. Too many pins on the fragile surface of the water. One of those pins will sink soon. A is against me, suddenly, and there's something frightening about how tightly our bodies are pressed together. His arms are around me, hands curled into fists against my shoulderblades. I can feel his tears against the side of my neck. "You love me best." He shivers, and I close my eyes, for a moment losing myself to the hazy wall of sensation. If I let go, let my mind drift and become still, I can almost forget where my body ends and his begins. Just a tangle of arms and legs and tears. I reach up to brush one of those nonexistant tears away from my cheek. And somewhere in the back of my mind I can feel the metal of the floor beneath my back, and against my tear-stained face. There are three of us as one. But only two of us are crying. When I open my eyes and come into myself, the light is just slightly brighter; not much time has passed. A's body is heavy against my own, and I realize that I've been supporting him. The easy movement of his chest tells me that only two of us are still awake. Feeling pangs of sorrow, I lower myself down, taking my unconscious twin with me. This is how we will sleep. The two of us, tangled together, blissfully unaware of how thin the skin of our little world is. And the one of us, alone. I wish I could go to him. I wish I could go to him and tell him that I -don't- love A best; that we are one and we are special and I love them both. But those steps from my resting place to his....those steps would be too many. One step too many from where I now lay. This temporary peace would shatter, because that would be one step too many towards one brother too many. I close my eyes and am somewhat relieved to feel tears on a cheek that undeniably belongs to me. Tomorrow, when I wake, we'll play the game again, tiptoeing around each other and our affections. But tonight, just for tonight, we can all rest. ------------------ It should probably also be noted that I have no idea why I wrote this 1pov present, because I don't really like writing that tense/view. O.o</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>