#drfchilton

[singingfortheflowers]

// drf-chilton and doctor-bedeliadumaurier : Daddy and Mummy for the baby.

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

Apathy, Memories, Loss

Meme

Memories

    A throbbing, blinding pain; relentless and merciless. Javert could feel streams of blood rush down his back, painting the battered skin a dark crimson. A hand — no, it wasn’t a hand this time — a lash came down upon the quivering boy’s back, each hit landing with a sickening smack. “P-please, Monsieur Maitre… I-” his pleas were cut off by his own sharp cry of pain.

    “Not another sound from you, you worthless bastard!”The man growled, bringing the whip down harder. Javert stifled more cries, tears trailing down his cheeks and pooling on the floor in front of him. He focused on the small puddle collecting, growing steadily larger as silent tears dripped from his face.

    Just as suddenly as it had started, the beatings halted, and Javert shook his head violently, a shudder passing through his body. When his eyes focused once more, he was no longer in his childhood home, but rather his own. Pierre was staring at him with a horrified expression, and Javert realized that he had broken out into a sweat.

    “M’ sorry, Pierre. Just- just caught up in my own thoughts.” The boy looked away indifferently, unsympathetically. The boy had never known suffering as he had, so why should Javert think that he would know? Everyone had bad thoughts from time to time, Pierre included. The young, aspiring poet might have thought little of these memories, and for that, Javert was glad. At least it was a story that he could save for another day.

Loss

    No. It couldn’t be. Not then, not to him. Kneeling down by Frederick’s bedside, tears trailed down Javert’s cheeks, catching in the deep lines on his face and dribbling down his chin. He made no move to wipe them away however, so overcome with grief was he. Silent sobs wracked his body as Frederick’s lifeless corpse lay on the hospital bed before him. If he had driven him a little faster to the emergency room, perhaps he could have stopped it—! Why, oh why did he leave Frederick alone, even for a moment?

    Javert began to think irrationally, convincing himself that it was all his fault. For who else’s fault could it be? He knew Frederick should have stayed home, there was no need for him to go with him…

    The Inspector then felt extreme anger over the loss of his boyfriend. He gritted his teeth, clutching his short hair and shaking his head. There was no one to blame — no one to yell at, no one to arrest, no one to punish or grab by the shoulders and shake about. His killer was still on the loose, no evidence to be found. After the heart monitor ceased its slowed beeping, the doctors had attempted to resusitate him with no success, and promptly took Frederick’s body away.

    Javert slumped in a corner and wept bitterly. He knew he had to make arrnagements for the funeral — would Bedelia even help? She wouldn’t dare. His next thought was; how could he tell Pierre? The boy had gone through so much already — adding Frederick’s death to the long list of tragedies seemed too much already for him to handle.

    As Javert’s mind raced, he began to direct his angers towards himself for getting out of control. The Inspector dealt with homocides almost daily, and he had always known himself for being unable to form bonds with any humans. Yet, the death of his partner had rattled him so; and he began to question if life would ever be the same for him again.

    How could he fulfill his duty, knowing that upon coming home, Frederick’s tired, yet somehow always-welcoming face would be there to welcome him no longer? Instead, he’d return to an exhauted, red-eyed boy who had to explain to the kids at school that his adoptive dad’s boyfriend had died. How does one explain something like that without being ridiculed? Javert dug his nails into the soft flesh of his face, nearly drawing blood. The world could be so cruel.

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

"What the hell happened to you!?"

    Shuddering, gasping breaths escaped Javert's lips as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. Blood, both old and fresh, stained his top, and bruises adorned his facial features like makeup. Blood trickled from a cut above his eye, which he quickly wiped away with a wince, revealing bloodied teeth.

    “N-nothing, honest,” he sputtered out the words, his chest still heaving. “Couple'a... teenagers. Thought they'wre... smarter 'n stronger th'n me.” He huffed, folding his arms over his chest and looking away. “Stole my car...”

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

( drf-chilton ) :

Frederick let out a huff of frustration when Javert insisted on taking his cigarette and lighter away from him, and he after shooting him a glare, he turned his head back to the window and scowled down at the street below. “It’s just one.” He mumbled, loosening up a little when he felt the other man’s arms around his waist. 

After pondering the proposition for a second, the doctor nodded with a small smile. While with the inspector, he had picked up on how he liked to escape, and seemed to find peace in the night sky, so the fact he wanted him to share one of his late night walks was quite flattering. He hoped that it had the same calming effect on him, as it did on Javert.

While his partner fetched his coat, Frederick wandered over to the night stand and picked up the things that were taken from him just moments before. Maybe, now that someone seemed to genuinely care, he’d actually try and quit smoking for good, not that it was a regular thing anyway. Despite the thought, once he had it on properly, the cigarettes and lighter slipped back into his coat pocket. 

"I love you too." Chilton couldn’t help but chuckle at Javert’s next words. "Although the boosts to my ego are appreciated..I’m okay, Javert..promise." His lips brushed against the others for a no more than a second. 

    The Inspector pretended not to notice when Frederick returned the objects into his pocket. Deciding against saying anything, he'd prefer to coddle the another if the issue arose once more. Javert himself had never taken to smoking, even though it had occasionally been so tempting. He knew that the things they said about them on the street weren't really true, so he resolved to stay away from them. Besides, what he'd never tell Frederick was that he kept a tin of snuff on his desk at work, that he used on rare occasions. It certainly wasn't as bad as cigarettes, but it couldn't have been healthy.

    Grinning at the chaste kiss, Javert pulled the other in for a deeper, longer one. Pulling away with a smile, he replied, “I only speak the truth. I have a ferocious honesty — you know that.” Many people seemed to know that, actually. Javert spoke exactly what was on his mind, wholly and truthfully. Some people didn't like it, while others appreciated it. Of course, he exerted immense self-control, and he said only the things that he deemed necessary. No— empty, fluffy words were not for him.

    Javert linked his arm with Frederick's, leading him down the stairs of their quaint home and on to the street. In such a busy area of town, it had been difficult to find a spot where Javert could watch the stars clearly, yet he had finally had some luck, finding an open field not too far from their house.

    The night was cool and fresh, insects and amphibians alike joining together in a midnight symphony. The birds that rose at daybreak had already commenced their cheerful song, and the first traces of sunlight lit the horizon. Giving Frederick's hand a gentle squeeze, he pulled him along urgently towards the field, looking back at his boyfriend ever so often with a soft, hesitant gaze, yet with an excitement that seemed to light up his features. “We're almost there,” he told the other in a hushed tone.

    When the pair reached the field, the sky was a pale pink, the stars barely visible. “I suppose we missed the constellations — I really wish I could have showed you a few — but the sunrise is just as nice, non?” Removing his coat despite the cool air, he placed it on the ground and sat, pulling Frederick down on top of him and into a hasty, almost desperate kiss.

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

drf-chilton

    “ — Hey Frederick, I'm home,” Javert called as he walked in through the front door. If there was one thing he was thankful for by working late into the night, it was that he knew that Frederick was always home to greet him. That night had been particularly long — a fact made evident by his heavy plopping on to the sofa.

    Glancing up at his boyfriend, he asked; “How was your day?” The question was posed with both concern and genuine interest.

[i-let-him-kill-me-blog-blog]

I miss poking around your mind, go and do something extremely fucked up so you have to come back to Baltimore State. It's boring now.

"Isn't there someone's ass you should be kissing?"

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

Hansel and gretel!!

    “—Once upon a time, there was a boy named Pierre. He was playing outside past his bedtime. He wandered into the woods and got lost, then came across this house. I don't know what the house was doing there, it was just... there. Alright? Don't question it.

    “Anyway, Pierre went into the house — even though he shouldn't have, because his dad taught him not to do that— and there was a Slimeball in there. The Slimeball gave him lots of love, and tried his best to reach out to Pierre, but Pierre wouldn't listen. Eventually, the boy got fed up and shoved the Slimeball in the oven. He made a very good meat pie.

    When he was finished, he went back home to his dad, and pretended like nothing ever happened. The end.”

[i-am-from-the-gutter-too-blog]

∞

∞:A random headcanon about my muse and yours.

(meme)

    When Frederick was in the hospital, Javert stopped by the florist every day and picked up the largest bouquet of flowers available. Pierre laughed at him, of course, to which Javert only blushed, the colour adorning his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Each morning, there came a knock at the door, so consistent that the nurses who were tending to Frederick knew exactly who was behind the door, and what he would have in his hands. It got to a point where the nurses had to ask Javert to stop bringing in flowers, as there was no more counter space for them. After that, Javert only brought single roses — smaller, but with the same message.