[Jack had been expecting a lot of his recurring nightmares to come back the moment he'd run those scans and hadn't just 'dealt with the situation'--the day he lost both his father and Gray, the HMS Hades, the orphanage -- but he hadn't expected old memories that weren't necessarily bad to dig their way out of the dusty corners of his mind. And it hasn't happened often, really just that memory of playing with Dad and Gray that had already come back, but tonight…
It takes him a few moments after he wakes up--silently, face dry and pulse pretty regular and without bolting up as much as he's physically capable of now, which tells him right off it probably wasn't a nightmare--to actually remember what he'd been dreaming about. It wasn't the play-by-play a lot of his dreams built from memories are, he knows that, just snapshots…
Mostly of a girl. A girl Rose's age with blue eyes instead of brown, but that wasn't what had made her memorable. No, it was the vacant expression in those eyes…and the lines on her face that made her look more like his great-grandmother than a teenager.
Valeria.
He'd almost forgotten her name, which hurts even if it's not nearly so much as when he can't immediately recall the name of an old lover, but at least it came back. And he's sure of it, remembers saying it--and more of the dream that woke him comes clear. It hadn't been the bad moments, racing through the village to rescue her after her father abandoned her to the monsters, holding her when he was sure they were both going to die, or even snapping at that asshole who made the tasteless quip about Jack's interest in 'older women'. No, it had been things like holding her hand to help her walk, kissing her cheek before they left…and the feeling of her too-light arms wrapping around him right after.
He's surprised to feel himself smiling as he remembers all of it, even as he realizes that poor girl whose life had just been beginning is probably dead by now. That day was probably the first time he'd honestly felt like he'd done some measure of good by a stranger for no reason other than they deserved it. He's equally surprised to find himself getting so lost in memory that he's scarcely aware of anything else in the present without feeling the need to claw himself out.]
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timeasmymeasure
[Action spam; mid 2nd trimester]
Date: 2024-03-28 04:37 am (UTC)It takes him a few moments after he wakes up--silently, face dry and pulse pretty regular and without bolting up as much as he's physically capable of now, which tells him right off it probably wasn't a nightmare--to actually remember what he'd been dreaming about. It wasn't the play-by-play a lot of his dreams built from memories are, he knows that, just snapshots…
Mostly of a girl. A girl Rose's age with blue eyes instead of brown, but that wasn't what had made her memorable. No, it was the vacant expression in those eyes…and the lines on her face that made her look more like his great-grandmother than a teenager.
Valeria.
He'd almost forgotten her name, which hurts even if it's not nearly so much as when he can't immediately recall the name of an old lover, but at least it came back. And he's sure of it, remembers saying it--and more of the dream that woke him comes clear. It hadn't been the bad moments, racing through the village to rescue her after her father abandoned her to the monsters, holding her when he was sure they were both going to die, or even snapping at that asshole who made the tasteless quip about Jack's interest in 'older women'. No, it had been things like holding her hand to help her walk, kissing her cheek before they left…and the feeling of her too-light arms wrapping around him right after.
He's surprised to feel himself smiling as he remembers all of it, even as he realizes that poor girl whose life had just been beginning is probably dead by now. That day was probably the first time he'd honestly felt like he'd done some measure of good by a stranger for no reason other than they deserved it. He's equally surprised to find himself getting so lost in memory that he's scarcely aware of anything else in the present without feeling the need to claw himself out.]