idontreallyspar: (Grace Bar)
If I could change history...I’d have been there instead of her.

The day my wife died...she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a place *I* should have been in instead. I should have been there...been *with* her. But I wasn’t...and I lost the first good thing I’d had since my childhood as a result.

The stuff that happened before the Agency...I don’t talk about it. I can’t. But my wife was the one bright spot I had...quite possibly the *only* bright spot I had. If I’d been there, I’d have been dead...I know that. And in spite of life now, and even Rachel...

She was an innocent. A complete innocent...she didn’t choose the life I lead. She didn’t even know who I really am. She knew nothing, did nothing but good things...she drove me crazy and she was no saint, but in a crunch, she had the most ungodly ability to make the right choice no matter what. She did the right thing without even thinking when it came down to the nitty gritty of things...and she died for no reason.

I can kill without remorse, maim and torture without batting an’s part of my job. Innocent people do die in this business all the time, it’s a hazard.

But my wife’s death...that one innocent casualty...that’s one I’ll never be able to shake off my conscience completely.

Because she wasn’t a casualty of war...nothing was gained from her death. She had nothing but me to die for...and even with Korman dead, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying and failing to make sense of the whole fucked up thing.

Muse: Thomas Grace
Fandom: ALIAS
Words: 291
idontreallyspar: (Grace Hat)
[locked from all those without APO security clearance]

When I was a kid I used to have this dream I was being chased. Running through the streets of my hometown, there’d be something on my tail. I could never look back to see be sure...the fear of whatever was stalking me was just too paralyzing, too intense. I could just...feel it behind me. A splash of a footfall against wet pavement, a soft gasp of air from my was all I had to know that I was running from something, and I was sure that if it caught me, I’d be worse than dead.

I started having that dream when I was really little...six years old, maybe. Always scared the shit out of me, because I didn’t know what was after me. I stopped having the dream, of course...but life goes on, shit happens, and you think about things. You evaluate your life, and you wonder if you could have done things different, the usual bullshit.

You look back at things you saw and heard...things you did...and you wonder if you could have avoided things by paying a bit more attention.

I sometimes find myself wondering if that dream wasn’t some kind of foreshadowing...if things would have been different if I’d listened, avoided certain things.

I used to have regrets, thinking stuff like that...until I started working my latest assignment here at APO. Being here...meeting people like Rachel Gibson...*especially* Rachel’s done a lot to change my thinking. I always believed somewhere deep down that if I stopped mourning the past, I’d forget it...I’d be turning my back on who I was...who I used to be.

Rachel made me realize I was’s ‘cause of her I’m still here, and it’s ‘cause of her I realize that there’s nothing wrong with turning away from the past. It just means you’re looking in another direction. If you’re smart, you’re looking to the future...and if you’re lucky, you’re looking around at the present because it’s something worth paying attention to.

The future’s all well and good...but with Rachel here, I think the here and now is a little more appealing.


Muse: Thomas Grace
Fandom: ALIAS
Words: 368
idontreallyspar: (Default)
1) What is one thing you have learned from your past?

Tom flew back as the fist that flew caught him, sending him flat on his back. Pain erupted through his spine and his head...a pain he welcomed, to a degree. He ought to have seen this coming a long time ago, but what reason did he have to think that this would be easy?

Rough hands caught the front of his shirt, then grunted as he was slammed against the wall. Narrowing his eyes, he glowered at his attacker...Bill? Phil? Hell, he didn’t even remember the guy’s name anymore...only that he didn’t like the guy. And Bill/Phill didn’t like him right back.

Figures that he’d walk right into the bar where his ex’s new soulmate was knocking back a few.

Tom finally made a move as if to speak, panting heavily as he raised a hand. “Seriously, something has to be done about your breath.”

“Oh yeah? How about this?”

As Bill/Phil smacked him again, Tom had to wonder just how many more of these guys he was going to run into. It had been three years, but apparently *she* couldn’t leave well enough alone. Bad enough she’d snapped him in two, emotionally, now every guy she fucked seemed to think that Tom was the bad guy. Then again...he wasn’t really surprised.

The dull smack of his body hitting the table, then the floor, didn’t really surprise Tom any more than the outbreak of the fight had. Couldn’t be the bad breath remark he’d made...maybe it was the comparison of Bill/Phil’s dick to the toothpick on the olive in his martini...nah, that couldn’t be the reason he got pissed...


Tom lifted his head just enough to watch Bill/Phil straighten his coat, turn and walk out the door. //Yeah...see if you’re laughing when she fucks *your* life up.// he thought to himself.

By now, Tom knew he was just another notch in his ex-wife’s belt, and after three years he was okay with that. If nothing else, it had taught him that trusting anybody but himself was a recipe for disaster. The past always came back to bite you in the ass, especially when it came to women.

Rolling over on his back, he stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to get his vision to dim from pain-filled red to normal when a figure appeared, looming over him.

“Thomas Grace?”

Tom blinked, frowning curiously...or as curiously as he could, as bad as his head was pounding. “Who wants to know?”

The man over him just stared, features inscrutable and hard. “Let’s take a walk.”

Tom thought only a minute before accepting the hand that was extended down to help him up a second later. Whoever he was...he liked this guy already.

2) Describe a dream that you've had. How did the dream make you feel?

I don’t dream much...guess I’m just not a real imaginative guy or something. I don’t usually remember them enough to talk about them afterwards...they have some common threads, though. When I dream, nobody has a face. Every person I talk to...features blur and lines fall away until I can’t see who I’m talking to, but I *know* who I’m talking to. It’s just...something in my gut. Still, it spooks me a little when I can’t look someone in the eye...even if it’s in my own head.

My dreams make me feel detached, too...out of place, alien. They happen in locations I’ve never been, and they’re wildly disproportionate. I might be in a room no bigger than an office cubicle, and so far up I’m lost in cloud cover, or in a field filled with grasses twelve to fifteen feet tall. Might be funny if it were a cartoon, but it’s always so goddamn real it scares me.

You want to know how my dreams make me feel? They drive me into work...the only thing that distracts me. It’s funny, but I never do dream about work. It’s like a safe zone, if that makes any sense. Ain’t that a fucking riot...I feel safer dodging bullets than I do in my own head.

Lotta times these days it drives me into the gym down at APO when I’m pulling a late one...usually I end up going to the mat with Gibson. She’s a nice girl...she’s different. She’s a techno geek in her bones, and a rookie if I ever saw one...but she’s got an edge. Just needs to be honed.

Know how I know? I dreamed the other night...and her face was the only one I could see.


idontreallyspar: (Default)

August 2007

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