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Entry tags:
[26-Jul-2021] [Criminal Minds, Dead Like Me] Like We Could
Title: Like We Could
Day/Prompt: 26-July-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds, Dead Like Me
Character/Pairing: Gideon, Rube
Rating/Warning(s): Mature, just in case.
"So, I can't see Mommy again...?" Their latest victim, Jessica, asked.
"Well, sweetheart," Rube smiled, "it's not the way it works. We can't talk to the living like we could, you know?"
The young girl frowned, staring at his boots. She was a mirror image of Stephen, in that weird, unexplainable way, earnest at the moment she was about to open her mouth. She looked like his little Rosie when she was about to repeat all of the things he'd heard years ago, saying things he'd rather have left unsaid — "Please, I wanna go to mommy!" or something so innocent, so purely speckled in its charm.
"Okay." She settled.
"I wanna—" She squeezed her hands, "I want you to find him. I want you to tell my mommy he's found."
Rube put his hand on the child's shoulder and stared at her, feeling the heartlessness fade; Gideon, feeling from the tips of his fingers to the bone, tossed and turned inside him. He thought about his deceased mother, how it would feel if she were here now, running her fingers over the same shoulders. Oh, what comfort it would bring, how a simple touch would soothe a child. That inner profiler, the inner reassured man of utter poise— no confusion— whispered to console the child, tell the child who resembled his young Rosie, his big Stephen, his growing Spencer, that he would take care of it. It would be easy to talk. But, instead, it brought him melancholy to think of the estranged and dead.
He said softly, "I can't promise you he'll be found, sweetheart." Then, the Gideon inside him burst.
"I don't know what happened, and I don't who..." Gideon squeezed her shoulder, then offered a comforting smile. "But when I find him, I'll tell her you're okay, okay?"
Perhaps that was all it took: a dollop of compassion, a tad bit of closeness with those he reaped. Either that or she spotted the honesty of true fire kindling in his eyes— and perhaps that soothed the child's heart. Gideon, Rube— whoever he was at this point would find the killer. They were zeroing in, anyway.
"Okay, Mr. Gideon." Jessica closed her eyes for a second, chewing her thumb. "You make sure Mommy knows I'm okay." Her voice trembled. "Tell Daddy I love him."
Gideon's hand fell away, and he nodded without turning. He would do all he could, then some more.
The little girl holding her stuffed bear sniffed, nodding, and took his hand. Then, slowly, they walked out of the woods, down a trail of deer and pretty, tri-colored birds in flight, floating and gliding and living, just as she once had. A glowing wooden cottage with bright sunshine filtering through the window blinds sat in the corner of the woods, glowing so bright and blue against the phthalo trees and everything around it that seemed like a mirage. For a breathless moment, the two looked upon the beauty of the tiny house for a few seconds, the way people sometimes did on their way to eternity, then walked a step closer.
Jessica couldn't help but blink at it. Her mother was beckoning from the window, smiling, and she couldn't help wondering if her father was sizzling bacon on the frying pan or her grandma was baking her oatmeal cookies with extra raisins.
"Can we stop here?" She asked, shuffling closer. A white curtain covered a window, but she spotted familiar silhouettes bustling inside.
"Yes, sweetheart." Gideon let go, hand slipping from hers. "Now go run along. This is your stop."
Day/Prompt: 26-July-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds, Dead Like Me
Character/Pairing: Gideon, Rube
Rating/Warning(s): Mature, just in case.
"So, I can't see Mommy again...?" Their latest victim, Jessica, asked.
"Well, sweetheart," Rube smiled, "it's not the way it works. We can't talk to the living like we could, you know?"
The young girl frowned, staring at his boots. She was a mirror image of Stephen, in that weird, unexplainable way, earnest at the moment she was about to open her mouth. She looked like his little Rosie when she was about to repeat all of the things he'd heard years ago, saying things he'd rather have left unsaid — "Please, I wanna go to mommy!" or something so innocent, so purely speckled in its charm.
"Okay." She settled.
"I wanna—" She squeezed her hands, "I want you to find him. I want you to tell my mommy he's found."
Rube put his hand on the child's shoulder and stared at her, feeling the heartlessness fade; Gideon, feeling from the tips of his fingers to the bone, tossed and turned inside him. He thought about his deceased mother, how it would feel if she were here now, running her fingers over the same shoulders. Oh, what comfort it would bring, how a simple touch would soothe a child. That inner profiler, the inner reassured man of utter poise— no confusion— whispered to console the child, tell the child who resembled his young Rosie, his big Stephen, his growing Spencer, that he would take care of it. It would be easy to talk. But, instead, it brought him melancholy to think of the estranged and dead.
He said softly, "I can't promise you he'll be found, sweetheart." Then, the Gideon inside him burst.
"I don't know what happened, and I don't who..." Gideon squeezed her shoulder, then offered a comforting smile. "But when I find him, I'll tell her you're okay, okay?"
Perhaps that was all it took: a dollop of compassion, a tad bit of closeness with those he reaped. Either that or she spotted the honesty of true fire kindling in his eyes— and perhaps that soothed the child's heart. Gideon, Rube— whoever he was at this point would find the killer. They were zeroing in, anyway.
"Okay, Mr. Gideon." Jessica closed her eyes for a second, chewing her thumb. "You make sure Mommy knows I'm okay." Her voice trembled. "Tell Daddy I love him."
Gideon's hand fell away, and he nodded without turning. He would do all he could, then some more.
The little girl holding her stuffed bear sniffed, nodding, and took his hand. Then, slowly, they walked out of the woods, down a trail of deer and pretty, tri-colored birds in flight, floating and gliding and living, just as she once had. A glowing wooden cottage with bright sunshine filtering through the window blinds sat in the corner of the woods, glowing so bright and blue against the phthalo trees and everything around it that seemed like a mirage. For a breathless moment, the two looked upon the beauty of the tiny house for a few seconds, the way people sometimes did on their way to eternity, then walked a step closer.
Jessica couldn't help but blink at it. Her mother was beckoning from the window, smiling, and she couldn't help wondering if her father was sizzling bacon on the frying pan or her grandma was baking her oatmeal cookies with extra raisins.
"Can we stop here?" She asked, shuffling closer. A white curtain covered a window, but she spotted familiar silhouettes bustling inside.
"Yes, sweetheart." Gideon let go, hand slipping from hers. "Now go run along. This is your stop."