storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2011-06-01 02:01 am
storypaint) wrote2011-06-01 02:01 am
Entry tags:
[Animorphs] broader shoulders (Cassie gen)
Title: broader shoulders
Fandom: Animorphs
Length: 303 words
fic_promptly: Prompt: Animorphs, Cassie, lone survivor
Pairing: slight Cassie/Ronnie; mostly gen
Other: Spoilers for end of series. PG for violent imagery.
Excerpt: The lone survivor, they called her. The last hero of the war. Cassie didn't give interviews, but if she had, she would have told them that she wasn't the only survivor.
After the Rachel was officially declared lost, the the media frenzy over Cassie was nearly as intense as it had been when the Animorphs had first become public. She hated it. The cameras were relentless. She couldn't take the trash out without being assaulted by questions. Even after Ronnie convinced her that the privacy fence was a good idea, they still managed to find her whenever she left the house. She refused all interviews, ignored the headlines whenever she could, but it was unavoidable. Her secretary had a Google alert on her name, in case damage control was needed. Cassie didn't like addressing the press, but she wouldn't allow for inaccuracies or romanticizing of their mission. That wouldn't be right. She owed it to them.
The lone survivor, they called her. The last hero of the war. Cassie didn't give interviews, but if she had, she would have told them that she wasn't the only survivor. She hadn't survived: she'd just lived longer than the others. The Cassie she had been before the war was dead, and she was never coming back, no matter how much Cassie tried. That Cassie didn't have the nightmares that she did now, of Ax in Andalite shape with an awful tearing mouth; of the dead look in Rachel's eyes, long before she'd given her all; of battles that bled into other battles until all that was left was blood in the dark.
She went on. She helped the Hork-Bajir and paced around the living room when she couldn't sleep and sometimes she wondered where the others had gone. Maybe they hadn't found anything. Maybe they'd just decided to keep going, to find somewhere to build something new for themselves. She wouldn't blame them.
Maybe one day she'd move on too. She was still waiting for it to feel all right.
Fandom: Animorphs
Length: 303 words
fic_promptly: Prompt: Animorphs, Cassie, lone survivor
Pairing: slight Cassie/Ronnie; mostly gen
Other: Spoilers for end of series. PG for violent imagery.
Excerpt: The lone survivor, they called her. The last hero of the war. Cassie didn't give interviews, but if she had, she would have told them that she wasn't the only survivor.
After the Rachel was officially declared lost, the the media frenzy over Cassie was nearly as intense as it had been when the Animorphs had first become public. She hated it. The cameras were relentless. She couldn't take the trash out without being assaulted by questions. Even after Ronnie convinced her that the privacy fence was a good idea, they still managed to find her whenever she left the house. She refused all interviews, ignored the headlines whenever she could, but it was unavoidable. Her secretary had a Google alert on her name, in case damage control was needed. Cassie didn't like addressing the press, but she wouldn't allow for inaccuracies or romanticizing of their mission. That wouldn't be right. She owed it to them.
The lone survivor, they called her. The last hero of the war. Cassie didn't give interviews, but if she had, she would have told them that she wasn't the only survivor. She hadn't survived: she'd just lived longer than the others. The Cassie she had been before the war was dead, and she was never coming back, no matter how much Cassie tried. That Cassie didn't have the nightmares that she did now, of Ax in Andalite shape with an awful tearing mouth; of the dead look in Rachel's eyes, long before she'd given her all; of battles that bled into other battles until all that was left was blood in the dark.
She went on. She helped the Hork-Bajir and paced around the living room when she couldn't sleep and sometimes she wondered where the others had gone. Maybe they hadn't found anything. Maybe they'd just decided to keep going, to find somewhere to build something new for themselves. She wouldn't blame them.
Maybe one day she'd move on too. She was still waiting for it to feel all right.