Story Title: Failure to communicate
Gen or Slash: gen
Complete or WIP: complete
word count: 433 words
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, I'm just using them to create a story for fun. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: challenge response for me_and_thee_1000 #5 'communicate'
Summary: How did it get htis bad? Starsky POV
Failure to communicate
I'm sitting here. Alone. In the dark. Staring into nothing.
Seeing Hutch coming out of Kira's bedroom earlier really threw me. Especially with it being painfully obvious what they'd just done there that even a blind man could have seen it.
He betrayed me, the one thing I'd never thought he'd do to me. I think his betrayal is the thing actually hurting me even more than anything else.
And it was just the last in a long line of painful things we've both done to each other these past months.
Yes, I admit it. I did some hurtful stuff to him as well, both physically and mentally. He never said a word to me, just continued like nothing happened.
So did I.
We both just went on with our lives, until the next time where one of us would hurt the other again.
The worst part of that is that I don't even know why I did all those things.
I just did.
Just like he did. I don't know why either.
We've never even stopped to wonder to ask ourselves how we'd gotten to this point.
How did it get this bad? How could we let this whole thing become so hurtful, so fucked up?
We've played tricks on each other before, sure. But those never crossed the line to become spiteful. Back then, it was just harmless fun, wasn't it? We would've never hurt the other on purpose.
We wouldn't have actually hurt the other, period.
Maybe it's because we've stopped talking like we used to. Before.
We used to be so in tune with each other, we didn't even need words passing between us to know what the other was saying. Maybe we've taken it for granted all the time that we
didn't think we had to take care of our connection for it to remain that strong. We probably thought it'd always remain as it was.
But somehow all that has changed. Oh, we still were talking, sure. Couldn't do our job if we didn't.
We just talked to each other instead of with each other.
And this is where it led us. Him, fucking my girlfriend even though he knew I loved her; me, sitting in my living room in the sole company of several emptry beer bottles.
Maybe, all of this really can be blamed on our failure to communicate properly.
The only question remains, how can we fix it? Because we have to, it cannot go on like this. There is too much at stake, too much to lose.
If we haven't already.