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Re: Shifting colors. loyalty_ever September 30 2009, 18:55:42 UTC
There was nothing but their breathing, just faintly out of time, slightly out of step with the world and with each other, slick and difficult with pain--that was true, that made sense...He was drifting somewhere, not outside his body but through it somehow, to where they touched.

Had to keep him warm, take care of him. That was so true it hurt--never looked after himself. Someone had to.

Bones had to. He understood. He did. It was right there and so clear. I love you.

He just held on, waiting in case there were tears or screaming or a lashing out of hands and feet. Couldn't let him hurt himself. Any more than he already had.

But that was all, just I love you, plain and bright as he settled close, relaxed and uncoiled, calm at last.

Had to keep him warm. He was stubborn about that kind of thing--that was true enough, too, that was the same--mulish? Yes, mulish about...Little stuff. Physicals and paperwork (you could not get him to do something he did not want to do) and whatall. Plain stubborn. And loving and his.

He pressed lips on skin, kissed his forehead--testing for fever and finding it even behind the chill--and kissed his cheek.

Y'know, delirium like that's a sure sign of high fever. His own thought for...the words had changed shape between them, somehow, but the meaning was the same, warm and teasing with the easy feeling of a chuckle rippling behind it. Damn it...Love you more.

That was right, too.

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Re: Shifting colors. kirktastic September 30 2009, 19:08:57 UTC
There were tendrils in his mind, picking through memories, tossing aside what wasn't needed, incorporating what was. The very flavor of Bones' words, that liquor-thick peach-sweet accent that Bones got only when he was truly worried (or sex sedated). The kiss to his forehead, testing as doctors might have hundreds of years ago. That was Bones. All Bones.

Not a seriously injured Romulan with no control over his mind-gift.

I'll be okay. You're here. You can fix anything. After all, you fixed me.

His fingers, the ones that weren't swollen and ugly colors, came up and pressed against the wound. Bones was hurt. Couldn't let Bones die in his arms. Bones, you're hurt, need to get you somewhere safe... Why wasn't here safe? Something just nudged at his mind, telling him it wasn't.

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Re: Shifting colors. loyalty_ever September 30 2009, 19:42:48 UTC
Anything, yeah. He could fix anything. Had fixed the--no, no one fixed the ship, she fixed herself, but she did better with him there.

Sure. He could fix it. Just needed time.

Bones was hurt. He was hurt, they were hurting, so much.

He had to get...Something had happened, one more bad thing in a long line of bad things. And too soon, too soon the guards would be here. That image didn't make it. There weren't faces for that feeling in here (where was here? outside of where it usually was, a place that wasn't all his) because...Jim...had never seen it. Just a kind of seasick dread that made Ayel truly horrified of green, made green strange to him for the first time in his life.

The feeling was red, too, and black and empty.

He was being prodded, gently, stroked with love and fear and cold careful fingers that tried to knit hope against the hole in his skin.

Somewhere safe? He knew it would hurt if he laughed. He tried to anyway. Oh, yes au'e, hurry.

Yes. If he could just find his feet. Where had they gone?

These had to be the words he wanted, please let them be right...Hell with this! Help me up. We should run.

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Re: Shifting colors. kirktastic September 30 2009, 20:05:26 UTC
Kirk might have never have seen the inside of the prison-hell before, but he was getting flickers of it now. Feelings, feelings that had texture and taste and imagery, coursed through him and urged him right on. Affecting each other, two enemies, drawn into the same dream-nightmare.

Help me up. Run.

He could do that. Bones needed help. For Bones, he could keep fighting. Just a little longer. He had to force his legs to work, to get them underneath him so that he could balance. One good arm stayed wrapped around his friend, pulling them both up with strength he didn't know he had left in him. Scabs broke open and bled again, and the world tilted at a 90 degree angle.

Kirk was forced to lean against the crates, his entire body shaking as he struggled to keep their combined weight up. Come on, baby... I need you to stand for me. Can't keep us both up. His hand shifted, slippery with blood.

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Re: Shifting colors. loyalty_ever October 2 2009, 02:07:10 UTC
When he was finally upright again, wrapped in arms he trusted, movement in the side of his vision made Ayel turn his head.

Someone running.

(That was Ikeil--the alarms screaming behind them, around them, so loud the stones trembled, so loud his skull bled--Ikeil had turned wrong, slid and slammed into the wall, and taken off down a dark side tunnel that did not scream.

Ikeil hadn't met up with them. Wouldn't be meeting them. Had to forget, name him later, write him down and keep him close, but not now. Had to run.)

Can't keep us both up. The captain was being ridiculous again. Always taking on so much for him.

Ayel's trust was absolute. Affection sneaked out in other ways, other words, but the meaning was the same.

Hell, I'm a grown man; I can stand. Lean on me.

They were getting out of here.

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Re: Shifting colors. kirktastic October 2 2009, 02:25:55 UTC
There was something deeper then affection that was coming from Kirk in a steady stream, mixed in with worry, fear, and pain. It was simple-not-simple love. He was going to get them home. Had to get them home. They had to... had to...

The thought trailed off, unable to find purchase in his mind. They leaned on each other to keep moving. Need to stop.. your bleeding... The reek of that blood screamed in his mind, staining his hand.

Need to... get home. Home. That was right. Home. Where ever home was, they had to get there. Home. Home was a silver swan in the darkness of the waters.

Stay with me, baby. Stay with me. Don't die. Don't die. Don't die...

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Re: Shifting colors. loyalty_ever October 2 2009, 07:13:59 UTC
Don't die. The chill of it needled down his spine. Bleeding. Was all that his? It hurt so much. They both hurt. But it was buried under this other feeling, warm and sure, deeper than bones, his Bones, theirs now.

This way! Come, heis'he...follow me. Out was this way, just ahead. Never back, only forward. Had to keep moving.

(No time, out of time, the ship was waiting for them, dragged here somehow, somewhere on the surface, banked in blinding cold white, cheap hateful struts bristling all around her like needles in a pincushion. They can't get inside, she's too clever, but they've been trying for years.)

That was home. So close. Still so far.

We can make it. Don't stop now, not for anything, not even for the pain. We'll make it; I'm with you.

They twisted through the corridors and the last one spit them out.

No snow. No ice. Nothing. Black metal and the reek of copper--his blood?--and bits of blinding yellow rolling from the ceiling.

Not Kansas anymore. That was too bewildering, too foreign, something was very wrong here. Something that hurt and bled.

Jim? I'm scared.

He held on tight.

Edit: it's always the formatting.

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Re: Shifting colors. kirktastic October 2 2009, 12:47:00 UTC
Together, only together, could they make it. Supporting each other, each lost in his own fantasy-dream brought around by their body's way of dealing with something more then it could handle. The common thread of protect-save-hope was all that kept them moving despite the fact that their bodies said otherwise.

Scared? That false bravado came into play in his voice. Hey, don't be scared. You got me and I got you, we can fucking do anything. It was almost instinct just to play up on such a thing, to keep them both calm. There was so much blood, fresh and hot covering Bones, drying and brown-black covering Kirk flecked in red as tattoos broke open again.

Just keep moving. Need to find... find... What did they have to find? Something safe... It took forever to actually think of it. Shuttle. Where the thought came from he wasn't sure, because he was utterly lost. Bones seemed to know where he was going... came... must...

They came around a corner, and he almost stumbled straight into someone. No blue-gold-red, so instinct took over.

Kirk put himself in front of Ayel, still half holding himself up, but very obviously ready to protect the other from the figure in black that had found him.

Bones, I'm sorry. Sorry... Love you. Get ready to run, baby. Don't stop, no matter what you hear. The thoughts came more clear then any previous one as adrenaline, what little his body could give now, pumped. Fucking live or I won't forgive you!

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