(no subject)
Who: Brian Moser, Dexter Morgan
When: During port, after they've been back at the compound for a while
Where: Colony medical centre
Brian had been sitting in the same spot for a long time. His fingers itched. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Dr. Desraeli and himself had brought Dexter back to the medical centre; a few hours at least. Dexter had been sleeping fitfully, hooked to a number of IVs. Brian had been watching him, feeling lost and numb. The memory of that little creature covered with Dexter’s blood and baring sharp teeth, made him shudder a little.
He could hardly look at Dexter’s face without picturing his brother’s eyes, wide-open, scared, agonised, locked onto his own; Dexter’s chest heaving, gaping open. His little brother, trying to breathe, trying to scream, choking on nothing, bleeding. Brian's fingers pulling the curved needle through flesh. He shook his head, trying to get the echoing memories of Dexter’s distress from his ears, the sight of so much blood from his eyes. He felt the bloodlust stirring and clenched his jaw. Now was not the time.
Brian looked at his hands and realised they were still covered in dried blood. He felt mild surprise through the hazy numbness. He got up, washed his hands, trying to avoid looking at the live face-hugger in the specimen jar, its digits fluttering. When he returned to his seat, Dexter’s eyes were open.
When: During port, after they've been back at the compound for a while
Where: Colony medical centre
Brian had been sitting in the same spot for a long time. His fingers itched. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Dr. Desraeli and himself had brought Dexter back to the medical centre; a few hours at least. Dexter had been sleeping fitfully, hooked to a number of IVs. Brian had been watching him, feeling lost and numb. The memory of that little creature covered with Dexter’s blood and baring sharp teeth, made him shudder a little.
He could hardly look at Dexter’s face without picturing his brother’s eyes, wide-open, scared, agonised, locked onto his own; Dexter’s chest heaving, gaping open. His little brother, trying to breathe, trying to scream, choking on nothing, bleeding. Brian's fingers pulling the curved needle through flesh. He shook his head, trying to get the echoing memories of Dexter’s distress from his ears, the sight of so much blood from his eyes. He felt the bloodlust stirring and clenched his jaw. Now was not the time.
Brian looked at his hands and realised they were still covered in dried blood. He felt mild surprise through the hazy numbness. He got up, washed his hands, trying to avoid looking at the live face-hugger in the specimen jar, its digits fluttering. When he returned to his seat, Dexter’s eyes were open.