an autobiography of someone else

[sab]

While I'm working on the big Markus thing, here's a small Markus thing, just a snapshot, really, with barely the tensile strength to support its great big title. *g* [x-posted to valhalla_sector]

Title: The Constant Chirping of Those That Would Save Me and Those That Would Sell Me
Fandom: Jeremiah
Category/etc: G, Markus, Erin, 414 words
Spoilers: "Interregnum, Pt. 2"



The Constant Chirping of Those That Would Save Me and Those That Would Sell Me

Three days before Erin leaves the Mountain, there’s a council meeting that ends with Angel throwing a plate.

"Oh, fuck you, Markus," she says, almost casually, and she gets up and then the thing's whizzing past his ear and it hits the wall and clatters to the floor, barely chipping its industrial porcelain glaze. "I'm going home."

Markus and Erin walk the promenade after the meeting, out in the world where the eye-rolling's already started and news of Angel's departure has spread with the speed only gossip can achieve. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Erin's hand rise, just a little, like she wants to touch his shoulder, but then it drops and she just clucks her tongue at the crowded recruits and the whispers and follows Markus down the catwalk toward his office.

"They're just frustrated," she says, uselessly. "And stir-crazy. And it doesn't help we've got them bunked double just so we can house all the new ground-pounders."

Markus waggles an eyebrow. "Ah, I don't know about that, some of these kids seem pretty happy with the coed rooming arrangements."

Erin's hand goes up again, this time for a light-hearted smack on his arm, but again she lets it drop, follows it with her eyes as if it's done something wrong. Markus nudges open the office door and Erin slips past him, crosses the room and sits in the armchair instead of the couch.

"I guess I was due," Markus says, sighing, sitting down heavily on the couch himself. "Though really it probably should have hit me. The plate."

"Square in the skull, probably," Erin says and gives him a toothy smile. She's in fatigues, and a t-shirt that's big and hides her breasts. Her hair's tied back, stretched taut at the temples, giving her a drawn and matronly look. He wonders if it's on his behalf and thinks it probably is.

"What am I gonna do, Erin?" he asks, rocking his head on his aching neck, one eye closed. "All these people, Daniel's group still out there doing whatever it is you do when you learn your leader was a cardboard cutout, faction leaders with their quartermaster reports, throwing plates at me…" He trails off with an exhausted laugh. "But I got you," he says. "Can't be all bad if I've still got you, right?" Weak smile.

She nods. "Can't be all bad," she agrees.

Three days before Erin leaves the Mountain, and Markus never saw it coming.

Comments

[killabeez.livejournal.com]

*sob!!*

Yes, yes, yes. Yes. That's all. *gloms you*

[elynross.livejournal.com]

Oh, ow! Ow, ow, ow.

So much for loyalty! *g* No, no, I don't mean it like that. I have trouble imagining Erin doing this, simply because I have trouble imagining Markus without her right behind him. And yet, this is a lovely, painful thing, and it rings so true to me. I can't wait for your big Markus thing...

[prillalar]

Oh, sweet! Nicely drawn, like all your work. :)