Puedo escribir los versos más tristes
Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and all related characters; Marvel owns "X-Men" and all related characters; I own nothing.Note:
Titles come off of a play on Pablo Neruda's poem, "Puedo escribir los versos más tristes".~*~*~Title:
Es tan corta la memoria
Joyce knows that this isn’t real, but she doesn’t care. She’s three and her father’s here with her. He fades in and out of her life, almost like he was a ghost. Mom never answers when Joyce asks where he is. She just gets an expression in her eyes and Joyce soon learns not to say anything, because she doesn’t want to see her mom look like she’s about to cry. Her mom has enough to worry about.
“Hold on to my hand, Schätzchen.”
Later, she tries to cling to this memory as the last happy moment with her father. The next time he appears, almost a year later, his eyes are flinty and she shrinks back into the shadows while her parents argue. She closes her eyes and waits for them to stop fighting, wishing for it to go away. When the fighting stops, he kneels down in front of her and presses a locket into her hand. He gives her a kiss on the forehead before vanishing from her life one last time.
When Joyce wakes the next morning, she finds her pillow wet with tears for memories she thought were buried long ago.~*~*~Title:
Y es tan largo el olvido
It’s a delicate dance, Erik discovers, to separate himself from his memories. At least, separate himself from the memories that only distract him from his mission to kill Shaw. Anger, hatred, scars that will never fully heal drive him, push him to exhaust every lead in order to complete his mission. He feasts on those memories.
It’s the softer memories that he burns away and leaves behind. Memories of lit candles and fading smiles and a sense of safety he hasn’t felt in far too long. Memories of a small hand in his as music quietly plays.
After he meets Charles, locking away those more recent memories takes on a new urgency. Charles is too naïve and too free with his mouth. He may be the closest Erik has to a friend, but trust is something he gives to no one now.
“Killing will not bring you peace,” Charles tells him that last night.
Erik’s mind goes briefly to Joyce. He tells himself that leaving was as much for her safety as for his.
For a moment, he almost believes it.
“Peace was never an option,” he answers, and firmly shuts the door on the memory of his daughter’s laugh.