15 minute fic - word 15
May. 21st, 2007 05:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Solitary
Fandom/original: Gargoyles
Characters: Owen Burnett
Rating: G
Word count: 248
A/N: Ran out of time, a bit, on this one. Meh.
There was a moment when he knew, with certainty, that he would never fly again. That he wouldn’t play pranks on old, dignified ladies for a lark or take a couple laps around the globe in an evening. It wasn’t the moment Oberon made the ruling, though of course he had understood what it meant. He had protested, violently. But the moment he knew, fully, was different.
He was watching Alex. He was sleeping peacefully in his crib while his parents dashed off to deal with the latest crisis and left Owen, once again, to make sure everything was safe and sound at home. Owen, the reliable, capable administrator. And he was. He had a list to neatly check off, each item prioritized and catalogued.
Owen had been a disguise. A matter of convenience. It was a feature of the mask to be organized and responsible. But he found himself, now, feeling satisfaction. Accomplishment.
And it made him sick. His features never flickered, but the part of him that was the Puck, the part of him that belonged in Avalon, balked at the domestic and business tasks that now composed the life of his disguise. That the small boy sleeping so very peacefully could realize his full potential, could be fully himself, human and faerie. That Alex Xanatos would be free.
And that he, Puck, would never be able to take off his mask again. The mask that had become as real as the person who wore it.
Fandom/original: Gargoyles
Characters: Owen Burnett
Rating: G
Word count: 248
A/N: Ran out of time, a bit, on this one. Meh.
There was a moment when he knew, with certainty, that he would never fly again. That he wouldn’t play pranks on old, dignified ladies for a lark or take a couple laps around the globe in an evening. It wasn’t the moment Oberon made the ruling, though of course he had understood what it meant. He had protested, violently. But the moment he knew, fully, was different.
He was watching Alex. He was sleeping peacefully in his crib while his parents dashed off to deal with the latest crisis and left Owen, once again, to make sure everything was safe and sound at home. Owen, the reliable, capable administrator. And he was. He had a list to neatly check off, each item prioritized and catalogued.
Owen had been a disguise. A matter of convenience. It was a feature of the mask to be organized and responsible. But he found himself, now, feeling satisfaction. Accomplishment.
And it made him sick. His features never flickered, but the part of him that was the Puck, the part of him that belonged in Avalon, balked at the domestic and business tasks that now composed the life of his disguise. That the small boy sleeping so very peacefully could realize his full potential, could be fully himself, human and faerie. That Alex Xanatos would be free.
And that he, Puck, would never be able to take off his mask again. The mask that had become as real as the person who wore it.
