Title: Good things take time
Fandom: The Shell House
Rating: T (just to be safe)
Summary: Ok, so Greg didn't completely stick to his end of the bargain, but it's not like Faith got her faith back instantly, right?
Authoress's Note: I just finished reading The Shell House after starting it about 8 hours ago, and HATE the ending, so just got the random urge to fix it! This will most likely make no sense if you haven't read the book, so I suggest you go out and read it! Now!
Dedicated to my Ianto who was lovely enough to lend me her copy 3
I know what I said, but surprise surprise, I chickened out. It's not like I completely went against my word though. I mean, sure, from the moment Faith grabbed at my arm, she was once again grabbing at her faith, but it would take a lot more than a teenage boy throwing a necklace into a lake for her to actually get it back completely. At least this time round, she knew for certain it's what she wanted, and for that, I'm glad.
She's doing well these days. Great in fact. She's definitely one of my closest friends, even though we've barely seen each other in the past couple of years. Hard to believe it had been 8 years since I first 'crept' up on her (she still hasn't given up on that fact, and I still stand strong saying there was no way that I was creeping). Barely married a year and already expecting a junior. He's a good guy; as far as I can tell from the couple of times I met him, and dotes upon her like anything. Christian too, but I suppose I can't hold that against him. We catch up when we can, mainly via email, and it's enough for us. Always nagging on about if I've met 'the one' yet, that's Faith for you. She's 'found her ultimate happiness and wants to be able to share it with the world'. Just to shut her up, I sometimes say I've found her, but only when I'm in a particularly cheeky mood. She always scolds me for that, and we share a good laugh. In case you were wondering, I confessed everything to her about, well, everything. Gizzard, the parties, Tanya, and of course Him.
Oh yeah, I lost touch with Gizzard years ago. Just as I get the courage to be true to myself, I realise he's so much of what I find repulsive. Of course it may have also had to do with the fact that I sat down and talked to my parents and spilled everything, and it just so happened that was one conversation that Katy decided would be a good idea to eavesdrop on. My only consolation was that the McAuliffe's had moved away prior to me actually getting enough courage to confront myself. Sure I was left to face the total humiliation at school all alone, but I gained strength from the fact that at least He didn't have to suffer for my cause.
Katy did realise her mistake pretty quickly, and although the damage was impossible to reverse, as cheesy as it sounds, the two of us really bonded. Seriously. From then it was only about once a week that I wanted to kill her. I mean, she still is my kid sister. Off travelling at the moment actually, with Lorrie I do believe. Sends me emails when she can, last one I got detailing her adventures with 'some cute American boys' in the great city of New York (And for the record, those guys had a little something going for them).
Mum misses her terribly, though not as much as Dad, even though he'd never admit it. The business is going great for them, and even after all these years, Mum still puts as much love and adoration into every cake she makes, even though her staff do a majority of the actual manual work these days. Dad of course never misses his Sunday morning game of golf, and has still yet to convince me to join him with his little exploit each week. Surprisingly, more for myself I think, I do occasionally join him and have my share of enjoyment.
As for me, I got out as soon as I could. Moved to London, rented a shitty apartment, took a photography course, and found revelation. It took a while, but I realised what I was looking for. David Bailey had never made more sense before that moment, and I quickly planned what I was going to do. Before I knew it, I was back home, found a place of my own and was starting my own business. Mum became my absolute idol, not to mention angel in disguise, during that time. It had taken me a while, but I finally learnt to see the ordinary in my life and I stopped at nothing to reach that goal. And by that goal, I left out all personal stuff and just concentrated on my business.
So time passed, and like I said earlier, it's hard to believe that 8 years have been and gone since that time at the end of summer, where my life did a total one-eighty. To say I don't regret a single thing would be a total lie, for I know I'm a complete ass for what I did to Him, to us, but overall I don't think I've screwed up too badly yet. I'm officially a part of Friends of Graveney Hall now, and it's like I spend half my life there now, I just love it so. Especially the grotto, my (generally) private place. So when I found someone kneeling at the lake's edge one day, needless to say I was a bit put out.
I was frowning as I studied them from behind, cautiously making my way closer. They, whoever they were with rather unrecognisable features from behind, seemed extremely focused on the water, obviously did not sense my approach at all. When I was barely a step away, well within hearing distance to hear a soft sigh escape their lips, as luck would have it, it was exactly then that they decided to stand and turn. A deafening shout barely processed with me as I could only stand in disbelief as I watched Jordan find me standing behind him, clearly getting a huge shock, and lost his footing, arms flailing as he tumbled into the lake below.
My senses were on overdrive as I blindly dove straight in after him, frantically searching around for him. After an agonising time, my hands had finally made contact with another body, both of us quickly using this to our advantage as we dragged each other to the side of the lake before hauling our soaking wet bodies out of the water to lie side by side at the edge, still griping tightly onto each other. For a period we both just lay there, catching our breaths and probably should've been trying to think of how to start a conversation, but my mind was blissfully unaware as I was enveloped in everything that was Him. I still don't know how much time passed as we just lay in each other's embrace, if you could call it that, but eventually the past 8 years came crashing back down, and we both turned to each other.
"So, how've you-"
But I didn't let him finish. After all the anguish and mental abuse I'd put myself through since our last meeting, I was finally going to toughen up and do what I saw as the right thing. His lips were as soft as I'd imagined them through all those years, and they melded perfectly against my own. It was a harsh kiss, brutal and accompanied by teeth and gums and everything amateurish, but to me it was perfect. He was perfect, and he responded just as eagerly.
So although I had proven to myself, yet again, how chicken I was when it came to some things, even though it took 8 years, in the end I kept my end of the bargain, just as I said I would.