Falling Apart, a White Collar fanfiction
Sep. 17th, 2014 08:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Falling Apart
Characters (Pairings): Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke (Peter/Elizabeth)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 321
Spoilers: S05E01
Disclaimer: White Collar is Jeff Eastin's brainchild. Not mine.
Prompt: "My dad's old room is very much the way he left it, except more faded." (The Perks Of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, page 88)
Summary: The night after Peter's cleared.
Author's Note: Another fill for the September Table of Doom at
writerverse. I am very cranky today. I'm not entirely sure whether or not this is in character, but I wrote it, and I can't do anything more for it, so here goes.
Peter tries. He really does try to keep it together, to not break down. But Elizabeth's in his arms, he isn't alone, he isn't going crazy by himself stuck in a tiny space with only himself for company, he's warm, he's safe, he's home.
He still doesn't believe that he's home.
He doesn't want to, he doesn't intend to, but eventually, he pulls El closer and cries as silently as he can.
He isn't the same. They didn't return him to her the way he was when they took him away. He looks the same, he sounds the same, but he's fading at the edges, fraying, falling apart. And maybe this is only tonight, maybe these are tears of relief he's crying into her hair, but she's still very not okay with Peter locked in a cell and led to believe that the system he placed so much faith in was broken and rusted.
She listens to him cry and feels her blood boil. She's mad. She wants to strike out at anything and everything within reach, wants to make them pay, isn't sure who they are. Terrance Pratt is dead. James Bennett is gone. There's no one in striking distance. No one to exact revenge against.
She wonders at herself, idly, somewhere at the back of her mind. She's never been bloodthirsty, and this hardly seems like the occasion to start.
She wraps herself around Peter more tightly, holds him together as well as she can.
The system didn't fail him completely, and it didn't engulf him either. He's still right here. And if he's not okay, he will be. He will be.
The thirst for blood isn't dead, but she doesn't feel quite so murderous when she whispers in his ear, "I'm here, we're here, you're okay," over and over; it soothes the anger and the hatred somewhat. She holds him and comforts him and feels a little better.
Characters (Pairings): Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke (Peter/Elizabeth)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 321
Spoilers: S05E01
Disclaimer: White Collar is Jeff Eastin's brainchild. Not mine.
Prompt: "My dad's old room is very much the way he left it, except more faded." (The Perks Of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, page 88)
Summary: The night after Peter's cleared.
Author's Note: Another fill for the September Table of Doom at
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Peter tries. He really does try to keep it together, to not break down. But Elizabeth's in his arms, he isn't alone, he isn't going crazy by himself stuck in a tiny space with only himself for company, he's warm, he's safe, he's home.
He still doesn't believe that he's home.
He doesn't want to, he doesn't intend to, but eventually, he pulls El closer and cries as silently as he can.
-:-
He isn't the same. They didn't return him to her the way he was when they took him away. He looks the same, he sounds the same, but he's fading at the edges, fraying, falling apart. And maybe this is only tonight, maybe these are tears of relief he's crying into her hair, but she's still very not okay with Peter locked in a cell and led to believe that the system he placed so much faith in was broken and rusted.
She listens to him cry and feels her blood boil. She's mad. She wants to strike out at anything and everything within reach, wants to make them pay, isn't sure who they are. Terrance Pratt is dead. James Bennett is gone. There's no one in striking distance. No one to exact revenge against.
She wonders at herself, idly, somewhere at the back of her mind. She's never been bloodthirsty, and this hardly seems like the occasion to start.
She wraps herself around Peter more tightly, holds him together as well as she can.
The system didn't fail him completely, and it didn't engulf him either. He's still right here. And if he's not okay, he will be. He will be.
The thirst for blood isn't dead, but she doesn't feel quite so murderous when she whispers in his ear, "I'm here, we're here, you're okay," over and over; it soothes the anger and the hatred somewhat. She holds him and comforts him and feels a little better.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 04:10 pm (UTC)But anyway... yay! You're writing! Keep going.
no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 04:24 pm (UTC)I didn't want to mention Neal - he didn't feel at all relevant to this moment - but yes, somewhere at the back of her mind, El knows that she's heaping some of that blame on Neal.
Yeah! :D
no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 08:03 pm (UTC)"He doesn't want to, he doesn't intend to, but eventually, he pulls El closer and cries as silently as he can."
I really like how you wrote El as well. I love seeing her being supportive of Peter and her "thirst for Blood". : )
no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 01:47 pm (UTC)OMG I love when people quote stuff back at me <3
Thanks again! :D
no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 01:50 pm (UTC)It definitely hasn't been easy for them.
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Date: 2014-09-17 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 02:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 12:52 pm (UTC)This was absolutely lovely. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2014-09-18 02:20 pm (UTC)You're always welcome C: Thank *you* for the lovely words! :DDD