Herc Hansen (stoptheclock) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-10-29 23:22:00 |
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29 october
HERC HANSEN
Herc's seeing someone he hasn't seen in a long time. S for Sad Complete |
There was a footpath outside of the house, connecting theirs to everyone else’s and to the pond. The weather had been chilly enough that he hadn’t sat out on the porch with a cup of coffee like he might have on his own porch, but it was a view he appreciated nevertheless. Just past the bushes, movement drew his attention from washing out his mug in the kitchen sink. He hadn’t seen his wife in years, but he would have known her anywhere. The mug slipped from his hands in the soapy water and cracked on the bottom of the sink. He looked down in surprise, and when he looked up again, Angela was gone. His heart was hammering away wildly in his chest. Weren’t the days of being haunted by his past supposed to remain in the past? He’d stepped away from the spotlight and stepped away from the constant reminders flashing in his face. He’d thought it would all go away now that they’d won -- that he’d finally feel at peace once they won. He had decades years’ worth of memories to tide him over as it was; he didn’t need more than that. What he needed most was relief. He’d thought he would find it in Atlantis. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, he thought, or his brain playing games with him. Maybe it was nothing. ----- He’d forgotten to bring the lunch he’d made, so he made a quick stop at the market for the makings of a lunch he could whip together in the field. He was trying to shake how he felt -- unsettled, jumpy. He knew he’d feel better once he got to work, but he’d seen Angela’s face twice on the way over. Once, she was ahead of him on the street. He didn’t noticeher at first, but then she turned her head and her hair flipped back over her shoulder. Herc thought his heart was about to stop, and then the woman turned away again, turning around a corner. He didn’t know why he did it; he knew if Angela was there, he would know. But he couldn’t help it. He called out, but she didn’t stop, so he hurried after -- and when she turned, it was someone else entirely. “I -- I’m sorry, I thought you were --” But the words dried up on his tongue. The second time, she was behind a counter at the market, asking him what she could get for him. Then he blinked, and she was gone, replaced by the actual employee. Herc stuttered over his words, and then got out of there as soon as he could after receiving his order. It was too much. ----- The reason he’d gone into ranching -- besides the isolation it afforded him -- was that it gave him something to do, every single day. There were few moments of rest, and few moments that allowed his mind to wander. He’d needed that, after losing Chuck. He needed to stay busy enough that he couldn’t think about what he’d lost and about what the war had cost. It was usually true in Atlantis as well, but he hadn’t been able to focus at all. Even in a part of the island that saw few people, Herc still kept seeing her in every face. He bailed as soon as he could, not looking anyone in the eye on the way back to his house. He didn’t want to see her anymore if he could help it. After all the time he’d spent wishing he could see her just one more time, wishing he could have just one more conversation, tell her one more time that he loved her and he was sorry for everything, that he should have retired sooner, now he only wished for respite. Was it a message? he wondered. What was she trying to say? There was a photo on his bed, resting against one of the pillows. He wouldn’t have noticed if Max hadn’t headed there first, instead of waiting by his food bowl or the front door. He recognised it right away: it was from about halfway through her pregnancy with Chuck, during a party they were hosting in their backyard. Someone had caught them by surprise -- Angela in the middle of telling a joke, Herc laughing, his arm around her. They looked happy. He sat down heavily on his bed. It was hard to believe that eleven years later, just after Chuck’s birthday, everything would change. So many things had gone wrong after that. He’d failed, so many times, to do the right thing by their family and by her memory. He didn’t think he’d done a good job at that. He didn’t know if she’d be proud. Was that what she wanted to tell him? “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “for everything.” |