JustPrompt: Sketches
Mar. 12th, 2010 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticTell me something I don’t know
He had two sketchbooks open in front of him. One he knew to be Desmond’s. The other Peter took out of the Dollhouse on his last day. Peter couldn’t explain how he knew, just that this was the same sketchpad he used when he was a Doll. He paused in his study to glance toward the bathroom. Desmond was still sound asleep in the tub.
Until an hour ago, Peter was curled up in the tub with him. But a dream woke him up and he was here to try making sense of it. Peter could usually tell the difference between his normal dreams and his prophetic ones, but ever since the Dollhouse things were different. The House changed him. In some cases the change was obvious, such as his sudden desire to sleep in enclosed spaces or the conditioned mantras he found himself speaking. Then there were the more subtle things: feelings of déjà vu, memories he felt he should have, feelings that rose to the surface…
Peter wasn’t much of an artist but for some reason Kilo grew into one. There were sketches of all the Dolls in the House: Echo, Victor, Sierra, November and Quebec. They all went by their real names now except for Echo. Then there were drawings of Dr. Saunders who Peter also knew to be Whiskey, and Topher. Peter had a deep familiarity for all these faces though in reality he hadn’t known them long.
Most of Desmond’s sketches, on the other hand, were devoted to Peter in different poses. Peter at the piano, sleeping in the tub, in the kitchen cooking, even a few of Peter in his glasses. Seeing those sketches made Peter’s heart race and heat rose to his face. Desmond knew Kilo and Michael, but all these drawings were definitely Peter.
The dream, these sketches… It was like he was trying to tell himself something, but he had no idea what. Another one of those things that kept happening to him since he left the Dollhouse: a part of him remembered and seemed to be giving him messages, but Peter couldn’t make sense of them.
Peter closed both of the sketchbooks and headed back into the bathroom. He leaned against the sink, focusing on his reflection. Peter stared at himself for a long time.
“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked. If he expected an answer, he wound up disappointed. He sighed and climbed back into the tub. Desmond immediately shifted into him. Peter fit his head into the other man’s neck. He listened to the man’s thoughts for a while and smiled hearing his own name echoing over and over.
Maybe that was his answer.
He had two sketchbooks open in front of him. One he knew to be Desmond’s. The other Peter took out of the Dollhouse on his last day. Peter couldn’t explain how he knew, just that this was the same sketchpad he used when he was a Doll. He paused in his study to glance toward the bathroom. Desmond was still sound asleep in the tub.
Until an hour ago, Peter was curled up in the tub with him. But a dream woke him up and he was here to try making sense of it. Peter could usually tell the difference between his normal dreams and his prophetic ones, but ever since the Dollhouse things were different. The House changed him. In some cases the change was obvious, such as his sudden desire to sleep in enclosed spaces or the conditioned mantras he found himself speaking. Then there were the more subtle things: feelings of déjà vu, memories he felt he should have, feelings that rose to the surface…
Peter wasn’t much of an artist but for some reason Kilo grew into one. There were sketches of all the Dolls in the House: Echo, Victor, Sierra, November and Quebec. They all went by their real names now except for Echo. Then there were drawings of Dr. Saunders who Peter also knew to be Whiskey, and Topher. Peter had a deep familiarity for all these faces though in reality he hadn’t known them long.
Most of Desmond’s sketches, on the other hand, were devoted to Peter in different poses. Peter at the piano, sleeping in the tub, in the kitchen cooking, even a few of Peter in his glasses. Seeing those sketches made Peter’s heart race and heat rose to his face. Desmond knew Kilo and Michael, but all these drawings were definitely Peter.
The dream, these sketches… It was like he was trying to tell himself something, but he had no idea what. Another one of those things that kept happening to him since he left the Dollhouse: a part of him remembered and seemed to be giving him messages, but Peter couldn’t make sense of them.
Peter closed both of the sketchbooks and headed back into the bathroom. He leaned against the sink, focusing on his reflection. Peter stared at himself for a long time.
“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked. If he expected an answer, he wound up disappointed. He sighed and climbed back into the tub. Desmond immediately shifted into him. Peter fit his head into the other man’s neck. He listened to the man’s thoughts for a while and smiled hearing his own name echoing over and over.
Maybe that was his answer.