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31_days2012-09-17 03:08 pm
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-09-17 03:08 pm
[September 17th] [Peter Gunn-related] Redemption
Title: Redemption
Day/Theme: September 17th - Twist me around like a knife
Series: Peter Gunn (based on the episode Kill from Nowhere)
Character/Pairing: Joe Scully/Louise Reardon
Rating: T/PG-13
Something else that happened because I was determined to give a happy ending to two characters who didn't get one and deserved one so badly. Here's to fix-fics! So much fun to write.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Joe Scully was alone in the house.
Only he was not alone, not really. He was surrounded by his memories, haunting him, tormenting him, never leaving him be.
He was also surrounded by Louise’s pictures, and that made everything worse. They only brought the memories to him all the more strongly.
Louise was dead now, killed by a sniper’s bullet. And Joe felt responsible.
If only he had never gone along with his ex-wife’s cruel scheme to worm his way into Louise’s will and get her money! He had been reluctant but had gone in for it at first, just to please Louise. His warmth and kindness had mostly been an act.
At first.
He still wondered how he had ever ended up marrying Gloria. She likely wondered the same thing about him. He had tried to give her everything she wanted, had tried to be a good husband, but she had never cared about him nor given him the love and kindness he had longed for. No matter what he had done for her, it had never been enough.
And then he had come to love the woman whom he had served as a nurse. He had learned what love really was, something he had never known from Gloria. But when he had asked her for a divorce in order to marry Louise, she had realized that Joe just was not a dishonest and heartless man and would never be able to go through with the plan she had engineered. That was when she had taken steps to ensure Louise’s death and Joe’s collecting of the inheritance.
Or rather, Gloria’s collecting of the inheritance, once she framed him for the murder.
He had been exonerated, the real scheme revealed. But he was imprisoned by something far worse than cold, steel bars—his guilt and his grief. He held one of Louise’s paintings close to him now, staring into the distance with hopeless eyes.
The final irony was that this was his inheritance. They were not worth anything to anyone who had not loved Louise, so they meant nothing to Gloria and everything to Joe.
Not to mention everything to Louise’s lawyer. He had never liked Joe, always having pegged him as a fraud. And he had sneered when he had told Joe of the paintings. “They’re too good for the likes of you,” he had said. “I’d contest you getting even that much, but it does my heart good to see you get a slap in the face like that, when you were expecting cold, hard cash.”
The only real slap was in knowing that Louise was dead. And she had died never knowing that Joe had started out intending to bilk her. Joe hated for her to have passed on believing that he was some kind of angel. Wherever she was, she surely knew the truth now. And even though she had transformed Joe, had shown him genuine love, she must feel betrayed.
It was all he deserved.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cradling the painting. “Louise, I’m so sorry.”
“Joe? Joe, I know. I know you’re sorry. And . . . so am I.”
He jerked up, his eyes wide and wild. “Louise?!” he choked out, his voice strangled. It was her voice; he would know her anywhere, but it had to be in his imagination. He was losing his mind.
But the wheelchair rolled out of the shadows, propelled with effort by the deceased woman herself. Joe just stared, unable to think, to move, to do anything other than look at the good, kind woman he had wronged. She reached for him, her hands trembling.
“Joe, I’m alive,” she said. “My lawyer said I was dead because he wanted to keep me away from the scandal . . . and from you.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I didn’t have any way of letting you know until my shoulder healed. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt.”
Joe opened his mouth, fighting to find his voice. “Me?!” he choked. “I’ve hurt you so much. . . . So terribly much. . . .” He was still not fully processing that she was real. His guilt and anguish were spilling out, had to come out, after suffering in silence for so many long months.
Louise still reached for him, her eyes filled with kindness and forgiving. “I know everything, Joe,” she said softly. “He wasn’t able to keep it from me, even though he tried.”
Joe continued to stare, dumbly, at the announcement. “But . . . you . . . you know, and you still come here, even knowing that I betrayed you?”
“Oh, Joe, you didn’t betray me.” Louise laid her hands on his arm. “Maybe you were pretending at first, but you changed. You changed, Joe. You’re not like Gloria. You’re not cold and hard like she is. And . . . even if you didn’t really love me at first, I know you came to love me. You didn’t want me to be hurt.”
The touch on his arm shocked Joe fully into reality. He had really believed that he was having a conversation with Louise in his fantasies or with her ghost. But the hands were solid. The painting slipped from his grasp as he fell to his knees in stunned disbelief.
“Louise?!” He looked up at her, tortured, afraid to believe. “You . . . you really are alive. You’re alive!”
“Yes, Joe!” Louise looked back at him, blinking back the tears as she saw what the long months had done to him. “I’m really alive. And I don’t blame you for anything. You’re gentle and kind and good, just as I knew before.”
Joe was overcome. He clutched at her offered hands as he sobbed. “I don’t deserve this,” he cried. “After everything I’ve done, or caused, I could never deserve it.”
“You do deserve it!” She embraced him, fully and firmly. “I love you, Joe,” she said softly. “I’ve loved you for a long time. And I know that you divorced Gloria.”
Joe stiffened at the embrace. He felt so tainted, so unworthy, to be in this angel’s arms. But he closed his eyes, managing a nod.
“After she was convicted,” he rasped. “I couldn’t stand to be married to her, knowing what she’d wanted to do, what she tried to do to you, all to get your money! And I couldn’t stand that I’d ever had any part in it. Oh Louise. . . .” He looked up at her. “I love you too. When I thought you’d been killed because of me, I . . . I just couldn’t stand it. I almost killed Gloria in my rage and grief . . . until Gunn stopped me.”
Louise gently brushed the loose hair away from his right eye. “I’m glad he did,” she said. “Joe . . . Joe, now that you know I’m alive, maybe you’ll be able to get better. I’ll be right here with you, if you want me here.” She blinked back the tears. “I know I don’t want anything else more.”
“Louise . . .” Joe gazed at her. Could he forgive himself? Could he be redeemed, knowing he had not indirectly destroyed the life of the woman he loved?
“I . . . I don’t want anything else more, either,” he finished at last. “But . . .”
“No buts, Joe.” Louise smiled a melancholy smile. “You’ve been in your prison long enough. It’s time you were free.
“You took care of me all those years. Now I’ll take care of you.”
And Joe swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak.
Day/Theme: September 17th - Twist me around like a knife
Series: Peter Gunn (based on the episode Kill from Nowhere)
Character/Pairing: Joe Scully/Louise Reardon
Rating: T/PG-13
Something else that happened because I was determined to give a happy ending to two characters who didn't get one and deserved one so badly. Here's to fix-fics! So much fun to write.
Joe Scully was alone in the house.
Only he was not alone, not really. He was surrounded by his memories, haunting him, tormenting him, never leaving him be.
He was also surrounded by Louise’s pictures, and that made everything worse. They only brought the memories to him all the more strongly.
Louise was dead now, killed by a sniper’s bullet. And Joe felt responsible.
If only he had never gone along with his ex-wife’s cruel scheme to worm his way into Louise’s will and get her money! He had been reluctant but had gone in for it at first, just to please Louise. His warmth and kindness had mostly been an act.
At first.
He still wondered how he had ever ended up marrying Gloria. She likely wondered the same thing about him. He had tried to give her everything she wanted, had tried to be a good husband, but she had never cared about him nor given him the love and kindness he had longed for. No matter what he had done for her, it had never been enough.
And then he had come to love the woman whom he had served as a nurse. He had learned what love really was, something he had never known from Gloria. But when he had asked her for a divorce in order to marry Louise, she had realized that Joe just was not a dishonest and heartless man and would never be able to go through with the plan she had engineered. That was when she had taken steps to ensure Louise’s death and Joe’s collecting of the inheritance.
Or rather, Gloria’s collecting of the inheritance, once she framed him for the murder.
He had been exonerated, the real scheme revealed. But he was imprisoned by something far worse than cold, steel bars—his guilt and his grief. He held one of Louise’s paintings close to him now, staring into the distance with hopeless eyes.
The final irony was that this was his inheritance. They were not worth anything to anyone who had not loved Louise, so they meant nothing to Gloria and everything to Joe.
Not to mention everything to Louise’s lawyer. He had never liked Joe, always having pegged him as a fraud. And he had sneered when he had told Joe of the paintings. “They’re too good for the likes of you,” he had said. “I’d contest you getting even that much, but it does my heart good to see you get a slap in the face like that, when you were expecting cold, hard cash.”
The only real slap was in knowing that Louise was dead. And she had died never knowing that Joe had started out intending to bilk her. Joe hated for her to have passed on believing that he was some kind of angel. Wherever she was, she surely knew the truth now. And even though she had transformed Joe, had shown him genuine love, she must feel betrayed.
It was all he deserved.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cradling the painting. “Louise, I’m so sorry.”
“Joe? Joe, I know. I know you’re sorry. And . . . so am I.”
He jerked up, his eyes wide and wild. “Louise?!” he choked out, his voice strangled. It was her voice; he would know her anywhere, but it had to be in his imagination. He was losing his mind.
But the wheelchair rolled out of the shadows, propelled with effort by the deceased woman herself. Joe just stared, unable to think, to move, to do anything other than look at the good, kind woman he had wronged. She reached for him, her hands trembling.
“Joe, I’m alive,” she said. “My lawyer said I was dead because he wanted to keep me away from the scandal . . . and from you.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I didn’t have any way of letting you know until my shoulder healed. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt.”
Joe opened his mouth, fighting to find his voice. “Me?!” he choked. “I’ve hurt you so much. . . . So terribly much. . . .” He was still not fully processing that she was real. His guilt and anguish were spilling out, had to come out, after suffering in silence for so many long months.
Louise still reached for him, her eyes filled with kindness and forgiving. “I know everything, Joe,” she said softly. “He wasn’t able to keep it from me, even though he tried.”
Joe continued to stare, dumbly, at the announcement. “But . . . you . . . you know, and you still come here, even knowing that I betrayed you?”
“Oh, Joe, you didn’t betray me.” Louise laid her hands on his arm. “Maybe you were pretending at first, but you changed. You changed, Joe. You’re not like Gloria. You’re not cold and hard like she is. And . . . even if you didn’t really love me at first, I know you came to love me. You didn’t want me to be hurt.”
The touch on his arm shocked Joe fully into reality. He had really believed that he was having a conversation with Louise in his fantasies or with her ghost. But the hands were solid. The painting slipped from his grasp as he fell to his knees in stunned disbelief.
“Louise?!” He looked up at her, tortured, afraid to believe. “You . . . you really are alive. You’re alive!”
“Yes, Joe!” Louise looked back at him, blinking back the tears as she saw what the long months had done to him. “I’m really alive. And I don’t blame you for anything. You’re gentle and kind and good, just as I knew before.”
Joe was overcome. He clutched at her offered hands as he sobbed. “I don’t deserve this,” he cried. “After everything I’ve done, or caused, I could never deserve it.”
“You do deserve it!” She embraced him, fully and firmly. “I love you, Joe,” she said softly. “I’ve loved you for a long time. And I know that you divorced Gloria.”
Joe stiffened at the embrace. He felt so tainted, so unworthy, to be in this angel’s arms. But he closed his eyes, managing a nod.
“After she was convicted,” he rasped. “I couldn’t stand to be married to her, knowing what she’d wanted to do, what she tried to do to you, all to get your money! And I couldn’t stand that I’d ever had any part in it. Oh Louise. . . .” He looked up at her. “I love you too. When I thought you’d been killed because of me, I . . . I just couldn’t stand it. I almost killed Gloria in my rage and grief . . . until Gunn stopped me.”
Louise gently brushed the loose hair away from his right eye. “I’m glad he did,” she said. “Joe . . . Joe, now that you know I’m alive, maybe you’ll be able to get better. I’ll be right here with you, if you want me here.” She blinked back the tears. “I know I don’t want anything else more.”
“Louise . . .” Joe gazed at her. Could he forgive himself? Could he be redeemed, knowing he had not indirectly destroyed the life of the woman he loved?
“I . . . I don’t want anything else more, either,” he finished at last. “But . . .”
“No buts, Joe.” Louise smiled a melancholy smile. “You’ve been in your prison long enough. It’s time you were free.
“You took care of me all those years. Now I’ll take care of you.”
And Joe swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak.