#soccerpunk

1 (Shh, It's okay. I'm here)

Alison isn't supposed to be falling apart in her arms, but here they are and she's a mess, her tears soaking Sarah's t-shirt, her entire body convulsing wildly as Sarah awkwardly pats her head. It's not even a full pat, really, more like her hand is hovering in the space above and hitting the air. Better than nothing, she supposes.

She hasn't even gotten to the reason in the first place. Alison had shown up on her doorstep, long after everyone else was asleep and the second she'd stepped into the living room, she had fallen completely apart, holding Sarah hostage on the sofa and unable to get two words out in between sobs.

"Hey, hey...c'mon now, Alison. Chin up..." Helplessly, she racks her brain for what she does when Kira is upset, the thing that calms her and firmly, she takes Alison's face in her hands so that she's looking at her.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here."

The words halt her right in her tracks and she stares at Sarah with wide, fearful eyes. Mercifully, the tears seem to come to a stop and she gratefully excepts the Kleenex Sarah hands her from a half used up box on an end table.

"That's better, yeah?" Sarah pushes over so that they are in their own space. "You don't have to talk...not if you're not ready. We can just sit."

She's fairly uncomfortable, always has been, with stillness. It just isn't in her nature but she figures it's not about her.

Alison shakes her head, obviously trying to gather herself. She dabs at the corners of her eyes with the tissue, clearing her throat. "I owe you some kind of explanation."

"You don't---really. It's alright."

"No, please." Alison speaks to the floor, "I left him."

"Huh?" Her mouth gapes open and she's vaguely aware she must look like a dead fish. "What are you on about?"

Alison looks up, moves closer to her. "I mean, I left Donnie. I told him I was in love with someone else."

She feels all the blood drain from her face. "Alison, no. You don't know what you're doing. We agreed..."

"We agreed what, exactly? That we'd keep it this a secret forever? I'm so tired, Sarah. Tired of the sneaking around and tired of pretending I don't want to spend every waking minute with you. I had to be honest with myself and with poor Donnie."

Words come and then drift off and she shrugs, trying to make sense of any of this. "Didn't take it too well, eh?"

Alison gives a half smile. "No."

They sit in silence. "Hey," Sarah leans forward, hands resting on her knees as she fiddles with a significant rip in her jeans. "You know how I feel about you, Ali. Think I've proved it, yeah? But this is insane. We'd never work, long term. We'd bloody eat each other alive."

"Can you say you don't love me?" The tears form again and Sarah's gut twists. She can't handle any more crying, not tonight. Possibly not ever.

She debates lying, saving her ass. It might cause a further onslaught of hysterics, but Alison would at least be deterred from fucking up her entire life for someone like Sarah.

The funny thing about honesty, though, is once you start, you can't stop. It slips out, though she cringes as it does.

"No."

It's all Alison needs to hear before she's in her arms, kissing her until they're both struggling for air.

"Ali, Ali," Sarah gently pushes her away, trying to ignore the pretty blush that's risen in her cheeks, the way her lips are pink and swollen. "This isn't---we can't, alright? No more. This has to end and it has to end tonight."

The old Sarah would have said to hell with everything. Screw Donnie and his feelings. Screw what was good for Alison. It would have been all about her pleasure and her pleasure only.

She couldn't hurt anyone. It had gone on for long enough.

"Go home, Alison," she leans in to kiss her, once more. "Go home to your husband and don't come back."

The tears stream down Alison's face but they were silent and she nods once, rises, grabs her purse.

She opens her mouth, shuts it again. And then she's gone.

“Look, I’m not asking for miracles, alright? I’m just asking you to, you know, maybe pick your clothes up off the bathroom floor every once in awhile. Maybe put your plate in the dishwasher. Run the vacuum once or twice a week.”

When they had begun their discussion about household responsibilities (Alison had begun it, Sarah had barely glanced up from the sandwich she had been making), Ali managed to keep her tone measured and even, but Sarah’s complete nonchalance was wearing thin and her voice was beginning to rise in octave.

“Are you even listening?” Alison planted her hands on her hips indignantly.“I swear, Sarah, ever since you moved in, it’s like you tune me out whenever I ask you to do anything.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Nag me, you mean.”

Alison stared at her blankly.

“You never just ask, Alison. You get all huffy and slam the dishes when yer puttin’ them away and pick up my clothes off the floor and roll yer eyes at me.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah,” Sarah slapped the final piece of bread on top of her sandwich, “ya do.”

“Well,” Alison’s eyes bulged, “if you would just clean up after yourself in the first place and stop being such a—a–pig, maybe I wouldn’t have to nag.”

“Oh I think you’d still find a way,” Sarah’s voice was rising now and she abandoned her sandwich on the counter top to glare at the other woman. “I knew movin’ in here with Kira was a bad idea. Fe warned me, he told me we would bloody kill each other—”

“You need to leave your brother out of this. It’s none of his business. See, this is the issue, Sarah! Your family is way too involved in our relationship.”

“No,” Sarah returned hotly, “the issue is you bein’ a bloody nag.“ 

“Will you be quiet?!” Alison hissed, jabbing a finger toward the ceiling, “the children are sleeping.” For a second, no one moved and the two women stared at one another before Alison broke.

“It’s kind of a stupid argument, isn’t it?” She cracked a tight lipped smile. “I knew you weren’t exactly a neat freak when we started this.”

“And I knew you were uptight.” Sarah said with a fond smirk. “I am not up–"The words died on Alison’s lips as she shook her head. “Okay, okay…maybe just a little uptight.”

Sarah grinned and reached out to pull Alison in by her hips, stretching her arms around the other woman’s waist. “But somehow we work, eh? Dunno how, really…”

I would like to take mini fic or five sentence FIC PROMPTS for clone ships (except for propunk / helenaXsarah bc i wouldn’t want to butcher your faves bc i literally know /nothing/ about writing either of their dynamics) so that there’s other things to look at/read on your dash

I wont be able to get to them tonight or tomorrow morning, but I’d like to be able to just peck away at them over the weekend and kinda just post them periodically through Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And, tbh, probably through the next week too, depending on how many if any prompts I get and how well my muse cooperates.