Author: Catherine Grissom
Rating: Um...T, maybe M, to be safe (When in doubt, overrate. Yay motto!)
Warnings: This was spawned by overdoses of two unhappy songs: Jay Gordon's 'Slept So Long' and Something Corporate's 'Konstantine'. Needless to say, this isn't the happiest piece in the 'verse. Also, ist muy short. (Random other languages strike again.)
Disclaimer: The fact that I don't own WHR should be abundantly clear by now. Also do not own Konstantine (Andrew McMahon does) or Slept So Long (Jonathon Davis does). Lyrical snippets at the end belong to them.
A/N: Yeah, this originally was going to be much, much darker and more violent (Thanks, Jay) but copious amounts of Konstantine kind of altered that a bit. So it kind of went from violent and angry to sort of melancholy.
There were times when he wondered if he should resent her. It was because of her that he'd been ripped away from the only life, the only job he'd known. She'd taken the only truths he'd allowed himself to believe in and, without so much as a 'by your leave', inverted and invalidated them.
There were times when he wondered if he should push her away. She was sixteen and, despite her circumstances and SOLOMON's position, still innocent, still pure. He was twenty-six and, despite her beliefs and naïve reassurances, a monster, a killer.
There were times when he wondered why he hadn't killed her. She was a Witch: he should have been able to pull the trigger. He should pull it now, while he was still distant enough, strong enough, to do it. He'd worked with Kate for over a year before he'd been ordered to hunt her. She'd been dead by the next day's dawn. So, why hadn't he been able to pull the trigger that night, to kill a partner he'd only known for scant months?
Robin whimpered in her sleep, tormented by some nightmare or memory that he couldn't begin to fathom. Amon sighed slightly, rolling her form towards him, tucking her head under his chin, wrapping his arms around her, extending his guard to defend against the dangers in her mind. As she began to relax, he finally began to allow himself to do the same.
There were times when he wondered how soon it was after the running began that her nightmares had started. He wondered how long the nightmares had gone on before he'd given up on asking for separate beds.
As he felt his eyelids grow heavy, Amon wondered just how many months it had been since he'd been able to sleep without holding her. Sleep claimed him before he could wonder how long it would be before he could admit that, just maybe, he needed her.
I've killed a million petty souls
But I couldn't kill you
I've slept so long without you
This is to a girl who got into my head
With all the pretty things she did…
…With all the fucked up things I did
A/N2: Yeah, let me know what you think. And expect a little set of drabbles before too long. My Creative Writing class kind of turned into a 'Let's see how many little ficlets we can write before they catch on' Class.