Eta #29: science (If It Hadn't Been For You by Lob)
Title: If It Hadn't Been For You
Author: Lob
Fandom: Starfighter
Pairing: Cain x Abel
Theme: eta #29: science
Rating: Adults because the fandom is an explicit adult webcomic
Warning: language, fighting, some vague talk about surgery. All rather tame
Summary: Abel prepares to leave Bering’s office. Part 5/30
Disclaimer: Starfighter belongs to Hamletmachine.
Before Abel could take a second step, the main door opened. "You can't go in there!" That was the secretary's voice, but a series of loud thumps and grunts cut off any further ranting. Abel looked over his left shoulder in time to see Praxis rush into the office and head towards him. The red-faced secretary glared at Praxis from the doorway.
“Sir, he forced his way past me. I told him not to enter--”
“Stop whining, Yeoman. Close the door.”
Abel frowned as Praxis gently wrapped his much larger hand around his left hand. What was this all about? Not only was Praxis out of his uniform now, but he was wearing casual clothes similar to Cain’s. He also had a blue knapsack draped over his shoulder.
"Abel, please wait." Praxis tugged Abel around to face him. When the man's eyebrows scrunched together and he began to curse under his breath, Abel realized his disheveled appearance must be worse than he thought. He brushed at his shirt and trousers with his free hand, but the white uniform was too scuffed up for such a facile solution. It didn't really matter though; he wasn't going to be wearing the uniform for much longer. ”What happened to you? Why is your face scratched up?" Praxis turned towards the commander. “Sir, I respectfully request permission to accompany Abel when he leaves the starbase."
Bering’s face darkened. "I should throw you in the brig for abusing your position and my trust." The threat did not make a difference to Praxis as far as Abel could tell. "There is no reason to grant your request."
"He needs someone to stand by him, sir. You can't leave him alone with Cain and Deimos.” He waved his hand at the narrow door. "They're cruel, sadistic. He deserves better." Now Praxis pointed to Abel’s face. “He wasn’t injured earlier. I bet Cain did it to him.”
“Abel is an adult. He can survive a few scrapes and bruises.” Bering rubbed his hand over his beard several times before he spoke again. "I understand you feel obligated to him, but consider the consequences." Cold dismay welled up in Abel's chest as the commander seemed to age ten years. "If you leave now, you are out forever. No commission, career over."
Abel slipped his hand free only to have Praxis snatch it right back.
"I really do care about you, Abel. I want to help." Lifting Abel's hand, he placed it against his flushed cheek before pressing a quick kiss to his wrist.
Abel jabbed a finger at the center of Praxis' chest. "If you’re really so concerned, why didn't you warn me about Cain?" Abel watched Praxis' face. "I didn't save your life so we could both get tangled up in a suicide mission."
Praxis shook his head. "I had nothing to warn you about. I had heard a few rumors about Cain, but I didn’t even know he was the Reliant’s fighter until I saw his, ah... well, the scar.”
"How could you not know? Haven't you read the ancient tale about two brothers who ..." Praxis' blank look told Abel all he needed to know. "Never mind."
Praxis ran his hand through his own hair and looked a bit sheepish. "Anyways, when I saw that damn snitch walk by, I knew Cain was keeping an eye on you and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea about us. I came back here to Bering's office, and I looked for a way to get you re-assigned to another fighter. But later I overheard the commander order the escorts to retrieve you from the mess hall." Praxis was staring intently at Abel's left shoulder now. "I knew there wasn't much time so I looked up all the classified info on Cain I could find." After all that, his voice dropped to a whisper. "I also found the vid." Praxis swallowed and appeared unsure of what to say next.
Great, thought Abel, the whole damn galaxy might as well have seen me get fucked into the mattress by Cain. "Listen. I can take care of myself. Don't throw your military career away because you think you owe me something."
"I owe you my life." Praxis faced Commander Bering once more. "I'm going with Abel," he said without hesitation.
"Permission granted." Bering made a sweeping gesture with his hand. After opening a desk drawer, he pulled out a large sealed envelope. "My instincts told me this would happen." The envelope spun through the air when Bering tossed it at them; Praxis caught it easily in one hand. That was impressive, thought Abel. He hadn't believed Praxis' depth perception would be that good with one eye injured. "But remember, son, a man can never do enough to repay a life debt. Now get the hell off my starbase."
"Yes, sir!" Praxis gave Abel's hand one more quick caress before letting go.
With Praxis behind him, Abel entered the narrow doorway. A panel slid shut once they were through and Abel knew in his heart that it would not be opening for him again. The tunnel, dark and only as wide as the hidden door, led them to a room with several more exits and a set of rungs leading up to a hatch in the ceiling. Cain was leaning his shoulder against the far wall, his arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. "You're so damn slow, Princess. I was about to go back in there and sling you over my shoulder if --" Deimos leaned in to whisper something in Cain's ear.
The look in Cain’s eyes when he saw Praxis step out of the tunnel was undisguised rage. Cain pushed himself off the wall and moved towards Abel and Praxis.
“Get the fuck out of here, loser. We don’t need a blind fool for this mission.”
Abel slapped at Cain, but Cain leaned out of the way so Abel's fingers only grazed his cheek. "No, we've got you.”
Praxis placed himself in front of Abel “I’m here to help him. You two ass-holes are dragging him along on your mission for some damn reason. I won't let him face that alone."
“So you'll take care of him like you took care of your navigator?"
Abel was not surprised by Cain's insult, but it still stung. Nothing was ever certain in battle and Cain knew that. Praxis tossed his blue knapsack and the envelope to one side. He raised his fists into a defensive position, but did not move any closer to Cain. Yet Abel could feel the aggression building up between the two fighters like a thunderstorm. Taking several steps back, he prayed this wouldn't end up as bloody as he feared it would.
“I will protect him with my life.”
“That don't mean shit where we're going. Useless baggage will only slow us down."
"Test me. Let me show you what I can do."
"Heh. I'm fine with killing you now." Cain launched himself at Praxis. A flurry of kicks and punches left Abel breathless as he tried to follow the action. The room seemed to shrink in on itself as the men battled unrelentingly, moving about with little thought to anyone or anything else near them. Cain, Abel realized, was attempting to get a hit in on Praxis’ blind side, but Praxis appeared to have no trouble in blocking or dodging those punches. One particularly vicious spinning kick passed over Praxis’ head by millimeters.
When the fight had gone on for more than two minutes, Abel decided he'd had enough. Both fighters had bloody knuckles and were sweating profusely. “Cain, you asshole, stop right now! He’s coming with us and that’s final!”
Cain ignored Abel's command as he continued to attack Praxis, steadily driving him backwards, but Abel wanted the duel to end now. With no thought to his own safety, he flung himself at the two fighters, aiming to tackle Cain and to break up the fight. The next instant he was flat on the floor with a boot planted in the small of his back. Fucking Deimos had surprised him again.
A shrill, sustained whistle pierced the air, stabbing his ears, yet Abel was amazed to see both fighters back away from each other. Deimos dug in the tip of his boot as he pushed off of Abel's back to move between the men like a referee. Arms spread wide, Deimos pointed to opposite sides of the room. Praxis took a step backwards, but did not lower his guard nor turn away from Cain.
“What the hell have you got under there?” When Cain lunged forward, reaching for the eye-patch, Praxis smacked his hand down. For a moment, Abel was certain the fighting would start all over again.
“None of your fucking business,” Praxis said while taking another step away from Cain.
“It’s my business if you're flying with us.” Cain crossed his arms to stare impatiently at Praxis, yet as the seconds ticked by his expression grew a bit softer and more contemplative. Abel was sure that meant trouble. “I bet you've got a fly eye. Show it to me."
Abel had no idea what a 'fly eye' was, but judging from Praxis' shifty expression -- and Abel knew Praxis didn't react well to questions he couldn't or didn't want to answer -- Cain must have been correct. However, Praxis couldn't run away this time.
“Please show me,” Abel said in a soft voice one might use to calm an agitated pet. Moving with deliberate care, he placed his hand on Praxis' forearm. There would be some colorful bruises there in a few hours. Praxis hesitated for the span of a few heartbeats before lifting the eye-patch. Abel immediately understood why Cain had called it a fly eye. The convex surface covered a larger area than what would usually be revealed of the human eye. It was almost mesmerizing to watch the implant shimmer and change colors; however, its iridescence could not distract Abel from the red scars marring the tender skin around the implant. “Thank you.” Praxis put the patch back into place. "May I ask you some questions? If you don't mind."
"Go ahead. I don't mind if you ask." He moved closer to Abel, leaning in. Abel got the impression Praxis would hug him if only Abel would reach out for him.
“You can see through the patch. So, I mean, you don’t really need to wear it do you?”
Praxis shrugged. “My choice. I don’t like the attention a dragonfly implant attracts.”
Abel caught some movement with his peripheral vision. Glancing to his right, he saw Cain and Deimos walk away from them to the far side of the room. When they stopped, Deimos stood on tip toe so he could whisper in Cain's ear. Curiosity dug its claws into Abel as he thought about what they might be discussing. He quickly pushed any conjectures aside to focus on his conversation with Praxis.
"Were you in surgery for very long? Was it painful?" Praxis answered no to both questions. With those last questions, Abel held open his arms and let Praxis hug him to his chest, although he was more than a little embarrassed to compare what he had been doing last night to what Praxis had endured. He hadn't even thought about the fighter's condition or what kind of injuries he might have sustained in the battle before they crossed paths in Central Command.
Praxis' voice grew deeper as he whispered, "After eight hours, the surgeon said my body had accepted the implant. I didn't want to stay in my room all day, so the CMO assigned me to admin duties." His sudden laughter tickled Abel's ear. Abel could feel the rumble of it in his own chess. "No way they'd have approved of the death-match, but nothings torn loose. I think I'm up for whatever Cain has planned."
Abel found himself clinging to Praxis like he was hanging on to the edge of a cliff. "Yeah, wish that made two of us."
Next
Author: Lob
Fandom: Starfighter
Pairing: Cain x Abel
Theme: eta #29: science
Rating: Adults because the fandom is an explicit adult webcomic
Warning: language, fighting, some vague talk about surgery. All rather tame
Summary: Abel prepares to leave Bering’s office. Part 5/30
Disclaimer: Starfighter belongs to Hamletmachine.
Before Abel could take a second step, the main door opened. "You can't go in there!" That was the secretary's voice, but a series of loud thumps and grunts cut off any further ranting. Abel looked over his left shoulder in time to see Praxis rush into the office and head towards him. The red-faced secretary glared at Praxis from the doorway.
“Sir, he forced his way past me. I told him not to enter--”
“Stop whining, Yeoman. Close the door.”
Abel frowned as Praxis gently wrapped his much larger hand around his left hand. What was this all about? Not only was Praxis out of his uniform now, but he was wearing casual clothes similar to Cain’s. He also had a blue knapsack draped over his shoulder.
"Abel, please wait." Praxis tugged Abel around to face him. When the man's eyebrows scrunched together and he began to curse under his breath, Abel realized his disheveled appearance must be worse than he thought. He brushed at his shirt and trousers with his free hand, but the white uniform was too scuffed up for such a facile solution. It didn't really matter though; he wasn't going to be wearing the uniform for much longer. ”What happened to you? Why is your face scratched up?" Praxis turned towards the commander. “Sir, I respectfully request permission to accompany Abel when he leaves the starbase."
Bering’s face darkened. "I should throw you in the brig for abusing your position and my trust." The threat did not make a difference to Praxis as far as Abel could tell. "There is no reason to grant your request."
"He needs someone to stand by him, sir. You can't leave him alone with Cain and Deimos.” He waved his hand at the narrow door. "They're cruel, sadistic. He deserves better." Now Praxis pointed to Abel’s face. “He wasn’t injured earlier. I bet Cain did it to him.”
“Abel is an adult. He can survive a few scrapes and bruises.” Bering rubbed his hand over his beard several times before he spoke again. "I understand you feel obligated to him, but consider the consequences." Cold dismay welled up in Abel's chest as the commander seemed to age ten years. "If you leave now, you are out forever. No commission, career over."
Abel slipped his hand free only to have Praxis snatch it right back.
"I really do care about you, Abel. I want to help." Lifting Abel's hand, he placed it against his flushed cheek before pressing a quick kiss to his wrist.
Abel jabbed a finger at the center of Praxis' chest. "If you’re really so concerned, why didn't you warn me about Cain?" Abel watched Praxis' face. "I didn't save your life so we could both get tangled up in a suicide mission."
Praxis shook his head. "I had nothing to warn you about. I had heard a few rumors about Cain, but I didn’t even know he was the Reliant’s fighter until I saw his, ah... well, the scar.”
"How could you not know? Haven't you read the ancient tale about two brothers who ..." Praxis' blank look told Abel all he needed to know. "Never mind."
Praxis ran his hand through his own hair and looked a bit sheepish. "Anyways, when I saw that damn snitch walk by, I knew Cain was keeping an eye on you and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea about us. I came back here to Bering's office, and I looked for a way to get you re-assigned to another fighter. But later I overheard the commander order the escorts to retrieve you from the mess hall." Praxis was staring intently at Abel's left shoulder now. "I knew there wasn't much time so I looked up all the classified info on Cain I could find." After all that, his voice dropped to a whisper. "I also found the vid." Praxis swallowed and appeared unsure of what to say next.
Great, thought Abel, the whole damn galaxy might as well have seen me get fucked into the mattress by Cain. "Listen. I can take care of myself. Don't throw your military career away because you think you owe me something."
"I owe you my life." Praxis faced Commander Bering once more. "I'm going with Abel," he said without hesitation.
"Permission granted." Bering made a sweeping gesture with his hand. After opening a desk drawer, he pulled out a large sealed envelope. "My instincts told me this would happen." The envelope spun through the air when Bering tossed it at them; Praxis caught it easily in one hand. That was impressive, thought Abel. He hadn't believed Praxis' depth perception would be that good with one eye injured. "But remember, son, a man can never do enough to repay a life debt. Now get the hell off my starbase."
"Yes, sir!" Praxis gave Abel's hand one more quick caress before letting go.
With Praxis behind him, Abel entered the narrow doorway. A panel slid shut once they were through and Abel knew in his heart that it would not be opening for him again. The tunnel, dark and only as wide as the hidden door, led them to a room with several more exits and a set of rungs leading up to a hatch in the ceiling. Cain was leaning his shoulder against the far wall, his arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. "You're so damn slow, Princess. I was about to go back in there and sling you over my shoulder if --" Deimos leaned in to whisper something in Cain's ear.
The look in Cain’s eyes when he saw Praxis step out of the tunnel was undisguised rage. Cain pushed himself off the wall and moved towards Abel and Praxis.
“Get the fuck out of here, loser. We don’t need a blind fool for this mission.”
Abel slapped at Cain, but Cain leaned out of the way so Abel's fingers only grazed his cheek. "No, we've got you.”
Praxis placed himself in front of Abel “I’m here to help him. You two ass-holes are dragging him along on your mission for some damn reason. I won't let him face that alone."
“So you'll take care of him like you took care of your navigator?"
Abel was not surprised by Cain's insult, but it still stung. Nothing was ever certain in battle and Cain knew that. Praxis tossed his blue knapsack and the envelope to one side. He raised his fists into a defensive position, but did not move any closer to Cain. Yet Abel could feel the aggression building up between the two fighters like a thunderstorm. Taking several steps back, he prayed this wouldn't end up as bloody as he feared it would.
“I will protect him with my life.”
“That don't mean shit where we're going. Useless baggage will only slow us down."
"Test me. Let me show you what I can do."
"Heh. I'm fine with killing you now." Cain launched himself at Praxis. A flurry of kicks and punches left Abel breathless as he tried to follow the action. The room seemed to shrink in on itself as the men battled unrelentingly, moving about with little thought to anyone or anything else near them. Cain, Abel realized, was attempting to get a hit in on Praxis’ blind side, but Praxis appeared to have no trouble in blocking or dodging those punches. One particularly vicious spinning kick passed over Praxis’ head by millimeters.
When the fight had gone on for more than two minutes, Abel decided he'd had enough. Both fighters had bloody knuckles and were sweating profusely. “Cain, you asshole, stop right now! He’s coming with us and that’s final!”
Cain ignored Abel's command as he continued to attack Praxis, steadily driving him backwards, but Abel wanted the duel to end now. With no thought to his own safety, he flung himself at the two fighters, aiming to tackle Cain and to break up the fight. The next instant he was flat on the floor with a boot planted in the small of his back. Fucking Deimos had surprised him again.
A shrill, sustained whistle pierced the air, stabbing his ears, yet Abel was amazed to see both fighters back away from each other. Deimos dug in the tip of his boot as he pushed off of Abel's back to move between the men like a referee. Arms spread wide, Deimos pointed to opposite sides of the room. Praxis took a step backwards, but did not lower his guard nor turn away from Cain.
“What the hell have you got under there?” When Cain lunged forward, reaching for the eye-patch, Praxis smacked his hand down. For a moment, Abel was certain the fighting would start all over again.
“None of your fucking business,” Praxis said while taking another step away from Cain.
“It’s my business if you're flying with us.” Cain crossed his arms to stare impatiently at Praxis, yet as the seconds ticked by his expression grew a bit softer and more contemplative. Abel was sure that meant trouble. “I bet you've got a fly eye. Show it to me."
Abel had no idea what a 'fly eye' was, but judging from Praxis' shifty expression -- and Abel knew Praxis didn't react well to questions he couldn't or didn't want to answer -- Cain must have been correct. However, Praxis couldn't run away this time.
“Please show me,” Abel said in a soft voice one might use to calm an agitated pet. Moving with deliberate care, he placed his hand on Praxis' forearm. There would be some colorful bruises there in a few hours. Praxis hesitated for the span of a few heartbeats before lifting the eye-patch. Abel immediately understood why Cain had called it a fly eye. The convex surface covered a larger area than what would usually be revealed of the human eye. It was almost mesmerizing to watch the implant shimmer and change colors; however, its iridescence could not distract Abel from the red scars marring the tender skin around the implant. “Thank you.” Praxis put the patch back into place. "May I ask you some questions? If you don't mind."
"Go ahead. I don't mind if you ask." He moved closer to Abel, leaning in. Abel got the impression Praxis would hug him if only Abel would reach out for him.
“You can see through the patch. So, I mean, you don’t really need to wear it do you?”
Praxis shrugged. “My choice. I don’t like the attention a dragonfly implant attracts.”
Abel caught some movement with his peripheral vision. Glancing to his right, he saw Cain and Deimos walk away from them to the far side of the room. When they stopped, Deimos stood on tip toe so he could whisper in Cain's ear. Curiosity dug its claws into Abel as he thought about what they might be discussing. He quickly pushed any conjectures aside to focus on his conversation with Praxis.
"Were you in surgery for very long? Was it painful?" Praxis answered no to both questions. With those last questions, Abel held open his arms and let Praxis hug him to his chest, although he was more than a little embarrassed to compare what he had been doing last night to what Praxis had endured. He hadn't even thought about the fighter's condition or what kind of injuries he might have sustained in the battle before they crossed paths in Central Command.
Praxis' voice grew deeper as he whispered, "After eight hours, the surgeon said my body had accepted the implant. I didn't want to stay in my room all day, so the CMO assigned me to admin duties." His sudden laughter tickled Abel's ear. Abel could feel the rumble of it in his own chess. "No way they'd have approved of the death-match, but nothings torn loose. I think I'm up for whatever Cain has planned."
Abel found himself clinging to Praxis like he was hanging on to the edge of a cliff. "Yeah, wish that made two of us."
Next