Hills Like Green Argolins
Jul. 19th, 2011 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sariagrayTitle: Hills Like Green Argolins
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sariagray
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: ~1400
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mpreg, talk of abortions.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I do not make money off of Torchwood. In fact, it seems as though Torchwood owns and makes money off of ME. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Author:
sariagray Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: ~1400
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mpreg, talk of abortions.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I do not make money off of Torchwood. In fact, it seems as though Torchwood owns and makes money off of ME. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Beta: Unbeta'd
Summary: A rework of Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants.
Author's Note: I don't know. It's a strange homage to Hemingway and to Torchwood. And I will probably never mention Mpreg again, okay? *Chews nails*
Hills Like Green Argolins
The hills across Blaenau Ffestiniog were green and rolling. The air outside was cold at the small station and it was quiet. Only a lone woman, thick about the middle and going gray, stood behind the café counter clutching a tea towel. Two men stood next to a table, a fair distance apart. It was early and the train would come in half an hour. They'd change over in Cardiff and head to London.
“What should we drink?” one man asked. He had taken off his greatcoat and draped it over the back of a chair.
“It’s pretty cold,” the other man said.
“Let’s drink coffee.”
“Two coffees,” said the man, younger than his traveling companion and still wearing his coat.
“Cream and sugar?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Yes. Cream and sugar.”
The woman brought two mugs of coffee and two coasters. She put the coasters on the table and then the mugs and looked at the two men. The older man was staring at the hills that surrounded the town. They were green in the early sun, like the rest of the country.
“They look like Argolins,” he said.
“I’ve never seen one,” said the younger one as he sipped his coffee.
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
“I might have,” he retorted. “Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove a thing. There might be a picture in the archives.”
“There isn’t.” He looked at the wall behind the counter. “Look. They’ve painted something on it. What does it say?”
“Glengettie. It’s a tea.”
“Could we try it?”
The younger man called to the woman and she came over.
“Yes, pet?”
“We want two teas, please. Glengettie.”
“With milk?” she asked.
“Do you want them with milk?”
“I don’t know,” the older man said. “Is it good with milk?”
“It’s all right.”
“You want them with milk?” the woman asked.
“Yes, with milk.”
“It tastes strong,” the man said and put the cup down.
“That’s the way with everything."
The hills across Blaenau Ffestiniog were green and rolling. The air outside was cold at the small station and it was quiet. Only a lone woman, thick about the middle and going gray, stood behind the café counter clutching a tea towel. Two men stood next to a table, a fair distance apart. It was early and the train would come in half an hour. They'd change over in Cardiff and head to London.
“What should we drink?” one man asked. He had taken off his greatcoat and draped it over the back of a chair.
“It’s pretty cold,” the other man said.
“Let’s drink coffee.”
“Two coffees,” said the man, younger than his traveling companion and still wearing his coat.
“Cream and sugar?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Yes. Cream and sugar.”
The woman brought two mugs of coffee and two coasters. She put the coasters on the table and then the mugs and looked at the two men. The older man was staring at the hills that surrounded the town. They were green in the early sun, like the rest of the country.
“They look like Argolins,” he said.
“I’ve never seen one,” said the younger one as he sipped his coffee.
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
“I might have,” he retorted. “Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove a thing. There might be a picture in the archives.”
“There isn’t.” He looked at the wall behind the counter. “Look. They’ve painted something on it. What does it say?”
“Glengettie. It’s a tea.”
“Could we try it?”
The younger man called to the woman and she came over.
“Yes, pet?”
“We want two teas, please. Glengettie.”
“With milk?” she asked.
“Do you want them with milk?”
“I don’t know,” the older man said. “Is it good with milk?”
“It’s all right.”
“You want them with milk?” the woman asked.
“Yes, with milk.”
“It tastes strong,” the man said and put the cup down.
“That’s the way with everything."
"Yes. Everything tastes strong. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like hyper vodka.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“You started it,” the older man said. “I was having fun.”
“Of course you were. Sir.”
“I was. I said the hills looked like Argolans. Wasn’t that bright?”
“Sure.”
“I wanted to try this tea. That’s all we do, isn’t it – hunt aliens and drink hot things and have sex?”
“I guess so.”
The older man looked across at the hills.
“They’re lovely hills,” he said. ‘They don’t really look like Argolans. I just meant the coloring of their skin.”
“Should we have another drink?”
“All right.”
The woman from behind the counter refilled their mugs.
“The coffee’s hot, at least,” the younger man said.
“Not as good as yours.”
“It’s a really simple operation, Jack. It won’t be bad.”
The older man stared into his mug.
“I know you won’t mind it, Jack. It’s really not anything. It’ll be quick. I won’t let them do anything else to you.”
The older man didn’t say anything.
“I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural. UNIT knows what they’re doing.”
“Then what?”
“We’ll be fine. Just like we were before.”
“What makes you think so? What makes you think we’ll be fine?”
The younger man sighed. “That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing between us, now.”
The older man looked at the tabletop, put his hand out and toyed with the edge of the coaster.
“And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.”
“I know we will. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’ve known people who’ve had it down, where I’m from,” said the older man. “And afterwards they were all so happy.”
“Well,” the younger one said, “if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I wouldn’t have you do it if you didn’t want to. But Martha said it’s perfectly simple.”
“And you really want to?”
“I think it’s the best thing to do right now. But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t really want to.”
“And if I do it you’ll be happy and things will be like they were and you won’t think I’m a freak?”
“I don’t think you’re a freak now. You know I don’t.”
“I know. But if I do it, then we’ll be good again and it’ll be fine if I talk about aliens and the future, and you’ll like it?”
“I’ll love it. I love it now but I just can’t think about it. You know how I get when I worry.”
“If I do it you won’t ever worry?”
“I won’t worry about that because it’s perfectly simple.”
“Then I’ll do it,” the older man said. “Because I don’t care about me.”
The younger one frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t care about me.”
“Well, I care about you.”
“I know you do. But I don’t care about me. And I’ll do it and then everything will be fine.”
“I don’t want you to do it if you feel that way, Jack.”
The older man stood up and walked to the end of the station. He stopped in front of a window. Outside were old shops and the village and hills to the distance. Far away, beyond the hills, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the rooftops and he looked up at the sky.
“And we could have all this,” he said. “And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.”
“What did you say?”
“I said we could have everything.”
“We can have everything,” the younger man said.
“No, we can’t.”
“We can have the whole world.”
“No, we can’t.”
“We can go everywhere.”
“No, we can’t. We don’t have the time anymore.”
“We’ll make time.”
“No, we won’t. And once they take it away, we’ll never bother to make the time.”
“But they haven’t taken it away.”
“We’ll wait and see.”
“Come back to the table,” the younger man said. “You mustn’t feel that way.”
“I don’t feel any way,” he replied. “I just know things.”
“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do –“
“Or that isn’t good for me,” he said. “I know. Could we have another coffee?”
“All right. But you’ve got to realize –”
“I realize,” the older man said. “Can we maybe stop talking now?”
They sat down at the table and the older man looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the younger man looked at him and at the table.
“You’ve got to realize,” he said, “that I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you.”
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We could make it work.”
“Of course it means something to me. But it wouldn’t work, not with our jobs. Besides, I don’t want anybody but you. I don’t want anyone else. And I know it’s perfectly simple.”
“Yes, you know it’s perfectly simple.”
“I’ve done the research. I do know it.”
“Would you do something for me now?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?”
The younger man did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were tags on them from the cottage they’d stayed in over the long weekend.
“But I don’t want you to,” he said. “I don’t care anything about it.”
“I’ll scream,” the older man said. “I’ll shoot myself.”
The woman came out from behind the counter with a pot of coffee and filled their mugs. “The train comes in five minutes,” she said.
“What did she say?” asked the older man.
“That the train is coming in five minutes.”
The older man smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.
“I’d better take the bags over to the other side of the station,” the younger one said and was met with a smile.
“All right. Then come back and we’ll finish the coffee.”
He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the bar-room, which was empty except for a bartender sweeping the floor. He drank a shot of whisky at the bar and looked at a family who was sitting on a bench. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the café. His companion was sitting at the table and smiling at him.
“Do you feel better?” the younger man asked.
“I feel fine,” the older man said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“You started it,” the older man said. “I was having fun.”
“Of course you were. Sir.”
“I was. I said the hills looked like Argolans. Wasn’t that bright?”
“Sure.”
“I wanted to try this tea. That’s all we do, isn’t it – hunt aliens and drink hot things and have sex?”
“I guess so.”
The older man looked across at the hills.
“They’re lovely hills,” he said. ‘They don’t really look like Argolans. I just meant the coloring of their skin.”
“Should we have another drink?”
“All right.”
The woman from behind the counter refilled their mugs.
“The coffee’s hot, at least,” the younger man said.
“Not as good as yours.”
“It’s a really simple operation, Jack. It won’t be bad.”
The older man stared into his mug.
“I know you won’t mind it, Jack. It’s really not anything. It’ll be quick. I won’t let them do anything else to you.”
The older man didn’t say anything.
“I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural. UNIT knows what they’re doing.”
“Then what?”
“We’ll be fine. Just like we were before.”
“What makes you think so? What makes you think we’ll be fine?”
The younger man sighed. “That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing between us, now.”
The older man looked at the tabletop, put his hand out and toyed with the edge of the coaster.
“And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.”
“I know we will. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’ve known people who’ve had it down, where I’m from,” said the older man. “And afterwards they were all so happy.”
“Well,” the younger one said, “if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I wouldn’t have you do it if you didn’t want to. But Martha said it’s perfectly simple.”
“And you really want to?”
“I think it’s the best thing to do right now. But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t really want to.”
“And if I do it you’ll be happy and things will be like they were and you won’t think I’m a freak?”
“I don’t think you’re a freak now. You know I don’t.”
“I know. But if I do it, then we’ll be good again and it’ll be fine if I talk about aliens and the future, and you’ll like it?”
“I’ll love it. I love it now but I just can’t think about it. You know how I get when I worry.”
“If I do it you won’t ever worry?”
“I won’t worry about that because it’s perfectly simple.”
“Then I’ll do it,” the older man said. “Because I don’t care about me.”
The younger one frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t care about me.”
“Well, I care about you.”
“I know you do. But I don’t care about me. And I’ll do it and then everything will be fine.”
“I don’t want you to do it if you feel that way, Jack.”
The older man stood up and walked to the end of the station. He stopped in front of a window. Outside were old shops and the village and hills to the distance. Far away, beyond the hills, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the rooftops and he looked up at the sky.
“And we could have all this,” he said. “And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.”
“What did you say?”
“I said we could have everything.”
“We can have everything,” the younger man said.
“No, we can’t.”
“We can have the whole world.”
“No, we can’t.”
“We can go everywhere.”
“No, we can’t. We don’t have the time anymore.”
“We’ll make time.”
“No, we won’t. And once they take it away, we’ll never bother to make the time.”
“But they haven’t taken it away.”
“We’ll wait and see.”
“Come back to the table,” the younger man said. “You mustn’t feel that way.”
“I don’t feel any way,” he replied. “I just know things.”
“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do –“
“Or that isn’t good for me,” he said. “I know. Could we have another coffee?”
“All right. But you’ve got to realize –”
“I realize,” the older man said. “Can we maybe stop talking now?”
They sat down at the table and the older man looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the younger man looked at him and at the table.
“You’ve got to realize,” he said, “that I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you.”
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We could make it work.”
“Of course it means something to me. But it wouldn’t work, not with our jobs. Besides, I don’t want anybody but you. I don’t want anyone else. And I know it’s perfectly simple.”
“Yes, you know it’s perfectly simple.”
“I’ve done the research. I do know it.”
“Would you do something for me now?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?”
The younger man did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were tags on them from the cottage they’d stayed in over the long weekend.
“But I don’t want you to,” he said. “I don’t care anything about it.”
“I’ll scream,” the older man said. “I’ll shoot myself.”
The woman came out from behind the counter with a pot of coffee and filled their mugs. “The train comes in five minutes,” she said.
“What did she say?” asked the older man.
“That the train is coming in five minutes.”
The older man smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.
“I’d better take the bags over to the other side of the station,” the younger one said and was met with a smile.
“All right. Then come back and we’ll finish the coffee.”
He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the bar-room, which was empty except for a bartender sweeping the floor. He drank a shot of whisky at the bar and looked at a family who was sitting on a bench. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the café. His companion was sitting at the table and smiling at him.
“Do you feel better?” the younger man asked.
“I feel fine,” the older man said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 12:48 am (UTC)Coincidentally, I'm watching a Veronica Mars episode focused on abortion right now.
ETA: BTW, excellent hijacking. I loved the dialogue. When I first read HLWE, it took me several reads to figure out what they were talking about. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 12:52 am (UTC)And also thank you! Reworking the dialog was tough at times. And it is really a sad story. :(
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 05:15 am (UTC)HAHAHA NOT IN THIS FANDOM.
Having not read the original story, I can still spot the Hemmingway feel of it, and I enjoyed the way you combined that with the characters for the exaggerated effect. I like how you cast them as well, both so uncertain and Jack seeming more vulnerable (in some ways) at this moment. And the line "I'll shoot myself" has a Very Different meaning from him. Such an interesting piece. (~*Tranaaaansformative wooooorks*~)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 10:31 am (UTC)Thank you! It was really an experiment in not being too...verbose? Descriptive? Telling? It was interesting. I'm glad you liked it! :D
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 06:43 am (UTC)PS- of course that kettle is expensive. It's Le Creuset! And I bet it's excessively heavy.
I have one of their ommelette pans which I'm too poor to replace. Odd- I don't even eat eggs; I use it for frying anything.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 10:33 am (UTC)(I know - I want Le Creuset everything and will never, ever be able to reasonably afford that much stuff! But...yes, definitely heavy!)
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 01:45 pm (UTC)Definitely a little bit OTT in regards to character - like an exaggerated characterisation - but still... My heart is hurting for Jack in this. Wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 04:56 pm (UTC)Anyway~ Nice job. :D I'm not usually that convinced by Mpreg, but this worked disconcertingly well for them, really. *_*
<3
no subject
Date: 2011-07-21 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-20 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-21 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-21 12:42 am (UTC)It was good though, just... melancholy maybe. I don't know, soggy brain syndrome.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-26 03:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-30 06:44 am (UTC)