rivulet027 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rivulet027) wrote2009-08-19 07:29 pm
rivulet027) wrote2009-08-19 07:29 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: A Second Chance
Title: A Second Chance
Rating: PG-15
Fandom: Twilight/Btvs
Pairing: Post Renesmee/Jacob and Dawn/Connor, while hinting towards Renesmee/Connor
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with these fandoms. Neither is my toy box and I’m merely playing.
Summary: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
twistedshorts August Fic a Day Challenge. Renesmee finds her dazed drifting shattered when she meets Connor.
Warning: References death of canon chars, refrences how they died. Many years post both series.
A Second Chance:
Renesmee had no direction. She wasn’t lost, she was drifting.
With Jacob dead what else was she supposed to do?
How was she suppose to find a way to go on when she had parents who whole-heartily knew that if one of them died the other would not go on, that the other would seek death? Jacob wouldn’t want her to seek death. Her family didn’t want her to seek death.
Her mother called her once a day, every day and each time Renesmee could hear the worry in her tone.
She ached.
It wasn’t the screaming, ripping through her pain that she had felt when Jacob died, but an emptiness she wasn’t sure would ever go away. There was a constant dull ache in her chest.
She wandered night after night, only pausing to hunt when she absolutely needed to. Stopping in hotels to shower and recharge her phone, to sleep when she absolutely had to. She only replaced the clothes on her back when they were too worn to continue wearing.
She kept moving, as if distance itself could numb the pain.
A year after her husband’s death, in a city somewhere in Iowa she smelled a creature so foul she nearly turned and ran the other way. Then she smelled the fear, the very distinct human fear and underneath all of that was the sweetest smell and it was that smell that made her moved towards the foul creature.
She barely gave the four humans a glance as they scurried past her screaming. She kept walking forward.
Then a young man skidded to a stop at her feet.
She looked down. He was where the smell originated. She looked up at the ashen monster that had thrown him, she took in the axe in the young man’s hand.
The daze she had been living in for the past year shattered. She pulled a knife from the man’s belt and with a growl lunged at the creature. The man stumbled to his feet and leapt in after her. It quickly became apparent that the man she was helping had many of the same attributes she had, he was not merely human.
They made a swift mess of the creature and after they were both covered in green goo. He used his shirt to try and clean his face. She licked her lips to see how the blood tasted and then grimaced. He laughed at her, pulled his shirt off and tossed it to her. She wiped her face.
“What was that thing?” she asked, voice harsh from non-use.
“Pelthin demon,” he answered, “They horde their prey for two months then feast.”
“Humans?” she asked.
He nodded, “Mostly humans. “
She nodded in response. They stared at each other silently. She took in the round necklace he wore, a locket if she was correct, gold with a cross on the front. She tilted her head, her own hand coming up to the clutch the locket her mother had given her.
“Connor,” he told her as she handed back his shirt.
“Nessie,” she responded.
They blinked at each other a moment before she held out a hand. He took it, shaking it with her before letting go.
“You a hunter?” he asked as he began to drag the pieces of the demon outside.
“Hunter?” she questioned as she moved to help him.
“Guess not,” he smiled.
“Are you a hunter?”
“Born and raised, mostly,” he shrugged.
They worked in silence then, moving the rest of the demon into a heap that they then burned. Nessie gagged at the smell, worse than that of the creature and relieved when Connor seemed satisfied enough to retreat to his car.
The car itself was black, old, obviously restored and it make her ache for Jacob who would have become suddenly enthusiastic as he explained just what she was looking at.
“You okay?” Connor asked.
“Nice car.”
Connor nodded, “It was Spike’s, been destroyed more times than he can count, but he somehow always managed to put it back together. Then he thought it’d be funny to give it to Dawn and me as a wedding present.”
“Dawn?” she questioned as she looked to his empty ring finger. Why did she feel a sudden disappointed?
Connor frowned, closing his eyes and rocking back for a moment before he shuddered, then moved to the trunk. He opened it and Nessie moved closer as he found the place for his axe. She placed the knife in the spot it was missing from as her eyes attempted to take in the various assortment of weaponry. She took in the other axes, the crossbow, the texts, the swords, the dag…she reached in and pulled out a dagger in a dark green and silver sheath. She wanted it.
“That was Dawn’s.”
The sadness in his voice caught her attention and she asked, “Her killer?”
“Dead.”
She nodded as one finger ran over her wedding band, “My Jacob’s killer is dead as well. The only human I’ve ever killed.”
Connor tilted his head, regarded her.
“Perhaps he thought he was a hunter,” she said, suddenly wanting to know more about this world that might hurt hers.
“Why?”
“Jacob, was a shape shifter, a type of werewolf. We’d managed to live peacefully for years, then Cain came.”
“Cain?” Connor asked, voice harsh, “You killed him?”
“Slowly,” she grinned.
He nodded, then pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing quickly. It didn’t take him long to be greeted.
“I want to talk to Andy,” he said, “It’s Connor.”
It took a moment for the phone to exchange hands and then Nessie could hear this Andy fumbling with his words.
“The Pelthin’s dead. Is that suspected Wendigo still a problem?”
“We sent Rona and a few girls out after it.”
“So I should check in?”
“Yeah, that would be good. Everything at…”
“Okay, I’ll call and check in when I head out and Andy?”
“Yeah?”
“Have someone contact Oz, let him know Cain’s dead.”
“Cain? Really? Did you…but I thought…”
“No, I’m with the person that did. She helped with the Pelthin.”
“Is she coming home with you? We should prepare a room, we should get Oz so he can talk to her…we…”
“Andy, breathe.”
“Right.”
With that Connor hung up.
“Oz?” Nessie questioned.
“Cain killed his cousin Jordy. Oz was looking for him.”
Nessie frowned.
“He was five,” Connor admitted, “Cain killed his parents too, they were human and still trying to figure out how their kid had been bitten by a werewolf.”
“He was a Child of the Moon?”
“Some people call them that.”
Nessie nodded and began to set the dagger back in its spot.
“Keep it,” Connor told her, “I never use it and Dawn would want it to be used.”
She nodded, “Thank you.”
He closed the trunk, “Want to come to Cleveland?”
She looked down at the goo still covering her.
“So, my hotel, you can have the shower first, then sleep, then Cleveland.”
She looked at him, at the eyes far older than they had a right to be in such a young face. She breathed in his scent, which she found she might have already become addicted to, as she wondered about second chances. She thought about what it would be like to have a purpose, a reason to go on and she smiled, “Cleveland then.”
Rating: PG-15
Fandom: Twilight/Btvs
Pairing: Post Renesmee/Jacob and Dawn/Connor, while hinting towards Renesmee/Connor
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with these fandoms. Neither is my toy box and I’m merely playing.
Summary: Written for the
twistedshorts August Fic a Day Challenge. Renesmee finds her dazed drifting shattered when she meets Connor.Warning: References death of canon chars, refrences how they died. Many years post both series.
A Second Chance:
Renesmee had no direction. She wasn’t lost, she was drifting.
With Jacob dead what else was she supposed to do?
How was she suppose to find a way to go on when she had parents who whole-heartily knew that if one of them died the other would not go on, that the other would seek death? Jacob wouldn’t want her to seek death. Her family didn’t want her to seek death.
Her mother called her once a day, every day and each time Renesmee could hear the worry in her tone.
She ached.
It wasn’t the screaming, ripping through her pain that she had felt when Jacob died, but an emptiness she wasn’t sure would ever go away. There was a constant dull ache in her chest.
She wandered night after night, only pausing to hunt when she absolutely needed to. Stopping in hotels to shower and recharge her phone, to sleep when she absolutely had to. She only replaced the clothes on her back when they were too worn to continue wearing.
She kept moving, as if distance itself could numb the pain.
A year after her husband’s death, in a city somewhere in Iowa she smelled a creature so foul she nearly turned and ran the other way. Then she smelled the fear, the very distinct human fear and underneath all of that was the sweetest smell and it was that smell that made her moved towards the foul creature.
She barely gave the four humans a glance as they scurried past her screaming. She kept walking forward.
Then a young man skidded to a stop at her feet.
She looked down. He was where the smell originated. She looked up at the ashen monster that had thrown him, she took in the axe in the young man’s hand.
The daze she had been living in for the past year shattered. She pulled a knife from the man’s belt and with a growl lunged at the creature. The man stumbled to his feet and leapt in after her. It quickly became apparent that the man she was helping had many of the same attributes she had, he was not merely human.
They made a swift mess of the creature and after they were both covered in green goo. He used his shirt to try and clean his face. She licked her lips to see how the blood tasted and then grimaced. He laughed at her, pulled his shirt off and tossed it to her. She wiped her face.
“What was that thing?” she asked, voice harsh from non-use.
“Pelthin demon,” he answered, “They horde their prey for two months then feast.”
“Humans?” she asked.
He nodded, “Mostly humans. “
She nodded in response. They stared at each other silently. She took in the round necklace he wore, a locket if she was correct, gold with a cross on the front. She tilted her head, her own hand coming up to the clutch the locket her mother had given her.
“Connor,” he told her as she handed back his shirt.
“Nessie,” she responded.
They blinked at each other a moment before she held out a hand. He took it, shaking it with her before letting go.
“You a hunter?” he asked as he began to drag the pieces of the demon outside.
“Hunter?” she questioned as she moved to help him.
“Guess not,” he smiled.
“Are you a hunter?”
“Born and raised, mostly,” he shrugged.
They worked in silence then, moving the rest of the demon into a heap that they then burned. Nessie gagged at the smell, worse than that of the creature and relieved when Connor seemed satisfied enough to retreat to his car.
The car itself was black, old, obviously restored and it make her ache for Jacob who would have become suddenly enthusiastic as he explained just what she was looking at.
“You okay?” Connor asked.
“Nice car.”
Connor nodded, “It was Spike’s, been destroyed more times than he can count, but he somehow always managed to put it back together. Then he thought it’d be funny to give it to Dawn and me as a wedding present.”
“Dawn?” she questioned as she looked to his empty ring finger. Why did she feel a sudden disappointed?
Connor frowned, closing his eyes and rocking back for a moment before he shuddered, then moved to the trunk. He opened it and Nessie moved closer as he found the place for his axe. She placed the knife in the spot it was missing from as her eyes attempted to take in the various assortment of weaponry. She took in the other axes, the crossbow, the texts, the swords, the dag…she reached in and pulled out a dagger in a dark green and silver sheath. She wanted it.
“That was Dawn’s.”
The sadness in his voice caught her attention and she asked, “Her killer?”
“Dead.”
She nodded as one finger ran over her wedding band, “My Jacob’s killer is dead as well. The only human I’ve ever killed.”
Connor tilted his head, regarded her.
“Perhaps he thought he was a hunter,” she said, suddenly wanting to know more about this world that might hurt hers.
“Why?”
“Jacob, was a shape shifter, a type of werewolf. We’d managed to live peacefully for years, then Cain came.”
“Cain?” Connor asked, voice harsh, “You killed him?”
“Slowly,” she grinned.
He nodded, then pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing quickly. It didn’t take him long to be greeted.
“I want to talk to Andy,” he said, “It’s Connor.”
It took a moment for the phone to exchange hands and then Nessie could hear this Andy fumbling with his words.
“The Pelthin’s dead. Is that suspected Wendigo still a problem?”
“We sent Rona and a few girls out after it.”
“So I should check in?”
“Yeah, that would be good. Everything at…”
“Okay, I’ll call and check in when I head out and Andy?”
“Yeah?”
“Have someone contact Oz, let him know Cain’s dead.”
“Cain? Really? Did you…but I thought…”
“No, I’m with the person that did. She helped with the Pelthin.”
“Is she coming home with you? We should prepare a room, we should get Oz so he can talk to her…we…”
“Andy, breathe.”
“Right.”
With that Connor hung up.
“Oz?” Nessie questioned.
“Cain killed his cousin Jordy. Oz was looking for him.”
Nessie frowned.
“He was five,” Connor admitted, “Cain killed his parents too, they were human and still trying to figure out how their kid had been bitten by a werewolf.”
“He was a Child of the Moon?”
“Some people call them that.”
Nessie nodded and began to set the dagger back in its spot.
“Keep it,” Connor told her, “I never use it and Dawn would want it to be used.”
She nodded, “Thank you.”
He closed the trunk, “Want to come to Cleveland?”
She looked down at the goo still covering her.
“So, my hotel, you can have the shower first, then sleep, then Cleveland.”
She looked at him, at the eyes far older than they had a right to be in such a young face. She breathed in his scent, which she found she might have already become addicted to, as she wondered about second chances. She thought about what it would be like to have a purpose, a reason to go on and she smiled, “Cleveland then.”