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Title: The Art of Being Left Behind
Characters/Pairing: Nate and Mat, and their mother
Word Count: 381
Rating: PG
Summary: Nate learned about losing people early. It's not a lesson you forget.
Notes: For
meritinabox prompt #36, loss of loved ones.
Disclaimer: I kinda... sorta... own/share the Rift. I do own Nate, and Mat belongs to
starletfallen.
It's funny. When Nate first learned a year ago his mom was Dad's guardian angel, it was... reassuring. Not just that she knew about all of this, the searing pain and the stupid white wings, but that she was looking out for him. Even at sixteen, Nate still knew - knew - that his mother was faultless. Nothing could get past her.
Except that there are some things you just can't guard against. A stormy night and a car wrapped around a tree, for instance. There went that reassurance.
But that was just normal, everyday human life, stupid and mundane and unpredictable. Nate could have dealt with that.
Two days after the funeral, Nate woke to the sound of the front door opening. The red glow from the alarm clock read 3:54 AM, and he slid out of bed, padding near-silently down the hall. He found the door closed when he reached it, but tried it on a hunch and found it hadn't been locked. Or had been unlocked...
He pushed open the door and stepped outside. Mom was halfway to the car already, but she turned when he came out, something terrible and empty on her face. Her wings weren't out, but she looked more like an angel than he'd ever seen her, distant and strange and beautiful all at once.
"I'm sorry, Nate," she said, before he could even speak. He rushed across the lawn to meet her, bare feet on wet grass.
"Where're you going?"
"I... don't know. Away. I can't..." Nate found he couldn't meet her eyes for too long. Not when it meant seeing that empty sorrow that wasn't his mother, not anymore. "I just have to go, Nate."
Nate's mother would have hugged him. Held him. Stayed. This was a stranger.
"Take care of Mattie."
There should have been some response to that, something to say - absolutely anything. Instead, it was all he could do to stand there, staring as she turned away, walked to the car, pulled out of the driveway and away down the quiet street.
He didn't sleep the rest of the night. Morning. Whatever. When Mattie finally rolled out of bed at almost noon, Nate opened his mouth to say, "Mom's gone."
What came out instead was, "Happy birthday."
Characters/Pairing: Nate and Mat, and their mother
Word Count: 381
Rating: PG
Summary: Nate learned about losing people early. It's not a lesson you forget.
Notes: For
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Disclaimer: I kinda... sorta... own/share the Rift. I do own Nate, and Mat belongs to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
It's funny. When Nate first learned a year ago his mom was Dad's guardian angel, it was... reassuring. Not just that she knew about all of this, the searing pain and the stupid white wings, but that she was looking out for him. Even at sixteen, Nate still knew - knew - that his mother was faultless. Nothing could get past her.
Except that there are some things you just can't guard against. A stormy night and a car wrapped around a tree, for instance. There went that reassurance.
But that was just normal, everyday human life, stupid and mundane and unpredictable. Nate could have dealt with that.
Two days after the funeral, Nate woke to the sound of the front door opening. The red glow from the alarm clock read 3:54 AM, and he slid out of bed, padding near-silently down the hall. He found the door closed when he reached it, but tried it on a hunch and found it hadn't been locked. Or had been unlocked...
He pushed open the door and stepped outside. Mom was halfway to the car already, but she turned when he came out, something terrible and empty on her face. Her wings weren't out, but she looked more like an angel than he'd ever seen her, distant and strange and beautiful all at once.
"I'm sorry, Nate," she said, before he could even speak. He rushed across the lawn to meet her, bare feet on wet grass.
"Where're you going?"
"I... don't know. Away. I can't..." Nate found he couldn't meet her eyes for too long. Not when it meant seeing that empty sorrow that wasn't his mother, not anymore. "I just have to go, Nate."
Nate's mother would have hugged him. Held him. Stayed. This was a stranger.
"Take care of Mattie."
There should have been some response to that, something to say - absolutely anything. Instead, it was all he could do to stand there, staring as she turned away, walked to the car, pulled out of the driveway and away down the quiet street.
He didn't sleep the rest of the night. Morning. Whatever. When Mattie finally rolled out of bed at almost noon, Nate opened his mouth to say, "Mom's gone."
What came out instead was, "Happy birthday."
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-07 06:11 pm (UTC)And I'm kind of in love with the concept of their father being their mother's ward, but that might be bleedover from Natasha who was in love with her ward and caught a lot of crap about it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-07 06:18 pm (UTC)Aww, Natasha. She needs to meet the boys. Though Nate has some serious issues trusting guardian angels who aren't him and aren't Mattie
and aren't Brando. Even if she is just a former angel.