It's all Nette's fault.
Jan. 27th, 2001 10:36 amI woke up with a snippet in my head. It's a riff on Nette's snippet from last night.
Nette wrote about James wandering the streets calling out for Cliff. I see Kirk and Lars going after him.
"God damn it, James," Kirk said as he tried to haul James up by his elbows.
James refused to move and only called out for Cliff again and again.
"James? Come on, man. You've gotta get up." Lars was gentler, less angry than Kirk.
"Cliff!"
Kirk dropped James' arm and looked down at him. "You're not going to find him," he said harshly. "He fucking died. He's not coming back."
James turned hurt eyes up to him. "He promised."
"I know what he promised. I was there. I remember, but he didn't have a fucking choice." Kirk let the tears run down his face. "He's gone, James."
"No." James' voice twisted in pain.
"Yes," Kirk yelled. "Yes, he is. He's dead and he's never coming back. You're not the only one who loved him, you bastard. You're not the only one who's grieving. You're not the only one with a fucking right to hurt."
"Kirk," Lars said, "you're not helping."
"Fuck you, Lars. Fuck you. This is so fucking easy for you. You're just picking up where you left off like it doesn't even matter to you."
"That's not true," Lars shot back hotly. "It does fucking matter. Just because I'm not fucking breaking down," he gestured at James, "doesn't mean I'm not fucking grieving." He looked down at James and grabbed his arm, pulling at it. "Get the fuck up. We're going back to the hotel."
James stood on shaky legs. He turned to face Kirk. "I'm sorry," he said numbly.
Kirk shook his head. "I know you loved him, but we all loved him."
James started to cry. "He was-- I loved him."
Kirk stepped forward and put his arms around James, holding him close. "I know. I know you did."
"What am I supposed to do without him?"
Lars winced at the pain in James' voice. "You write music." He put his hand on James' arm. "I'm not good the way Cliff was, but I can help."
That's all I've got, and it was a lot more James/Kirk-ish when I first thought it. Odd how your characters never follow your plans for them.
Nette wrote about James wandering the streets calling out for Cliff. I see Kirk and Lars going after him.
"God damn it, James," Kirk said as he tried to haul James up by his elbows.
James refused to move and only called out for Cliff again and again.
"James? Come on, man. You've gotta get up." Lars was gentler, less angry than Kirk.
"Cliff!"
Kirk dropped James' arm and looked down at him. "You're not going to find him," he said harshly. "He fucking died. He's not coming back."
James turned hurt eyes up to him. "He promised."
"I know what he promised. I was there. I remember, but he didn't have a fucking choice." Kirk let the tears run down his face. "He's gone, James."
"No." James' voice twisted in pain.
"Yes," Kirk yelled. "Yes, he is. He's dead and he's never coming back. You're not the only one who loved him, you bastard. You're not the only one who's grieving. You're not the only one with a fucking right to hurt."
"Kirk," Lars said, "you're not helping."
"Fuck you, Lars. Fuck you. This is so fucking easy for you. You're just picking up where you left off like it doesn't even matter to you."
"That's not true," Lars shot back hotly. "It does fucking matter. Just because I'm not fucking breaking down," he gestured at James, "doesn't mean I'm not fucking grieving." He looked down at James and grabbed his arm, pulling at it. "Get the fuck up. We're going back to the hotel."
James stood on shaky legs. He turned to face Kirk. "I'm sorry," he said numbly.
Kirk shook his head. "I know you loved him, but we all loved him."
James started to cry. "He was-- I loved him."
Kirk stepped forward and put his arms around James, holding him close. "I know. I know you did."
"What am I supposed to do without him?"
Lars winced at the pain in James' voice. "You write music." He put his hand on James' arm. "I'm not good the way Cliff was, but I can help."
That's all I've got, and it was a lot more James/Kirk-ish when I first thought it. Odd how your characters never follow your plans for them.