Fic: Three Hundred
Title: Three Hundred
Fandom: Whose Line UK
Pairings: Hints at potential Paul/Tony
Rating: PG
Summary: Paul has a terrifying nightmare
Disclaimer: This fic is in no way intended to portray a true representation of the people involved. As far as I know, this never happened.
Beta: The lovely beedekka
Note: Inspired by Question 14 of this meme: 2 has a dream where 10 tells him/her to save 1, who is facing certain doom. What would 2 do?
Cross-posted to britline, whoselineslash and wl_fanfiction. Submitted to fanfic100 for prompt 074 - Dark.
Three Hundred
Paul woke with a start, heart racing as he sat up and glanced over at the clock. The blurry red glow slowly formed itself into numbers, informing him that it was currently 2.45am.
Letting out a slow breath that wasn't as steadying as he'd hoped, Paul thought back to the images that had been playing through his head before his abrupt awakening. It was that American bloke...what was his name? He'd met him once at a wrap party...sod it, that wasn't the important part. Some American bloke that Paul had met once had been stood on the edge of a dark, dense forest that seemed to have no clear path through it. On spotting Paul, he had not moved but had begun to speak almost as if Paul's presence had set off a trigger.
You have to save him. That forest is littered with demons and monsters; soul-suckers and venomous beings that will slowly tear him apart.
Just audible above Jeff's - that was it, Jeff, the American bloke’s name was - speech, there had been an eerie cacophony of shrieks, howls, hisses and screams. Paul had demanded to know who Jeff had been talking about.
You know full well who I mean. He's been lost in this forest for some time now, and the longer he stays here the more it turns itself into his very worst nightmare. It'll take some doing to reach him now...
Jeff had turned his gaze back to the forest. What should have been the continuation of the path Paul had been standing on had been blocked by a tangle of thorny plant matter. The few gaps in vegetation that existed were too small to allow any man through, let alone anyone of Paul's height.
"How am I meant to get through there?" he had demanded. "I didn't exactly come prepared for a rescue mission."
You have to find a way. It's the least you can do for the one you proclaim to love, but will do nothing to let him see that for your own stupid, petty fears.
Paul had known then who Jeff was talking about, and his gaze had returned to the forest. "Then this is my doing?"
Not just you. The forest of Tony's despair is made of many strands, but you are now the only one with strength of feeling enough to break through. But be quick, because there can be no guarantee past three hundred.
That had been the point where Paul had woken up. Thinking it over now, he felt a knot of panic in his stomach. This was by no means the first nightmare he had ever had, but he had never experienced anything so vivid, so real, and it was this that terrified him.
He glanced back at the clock. 2.48am was the displayed answer to his unspoken question. It was a ridiculous hour - there was no chance he'd risk phoning Tony now and facing his wrath. Not over a dream. He'd just go back to sleep and give his friend a call at a more human hour.
If you don't call now, it might be too late.
Paul's stomach lurched as Jeff’s voice sounded in his head, berating him for ignoring what he already feared . He stared at the clock, watching as the last digit flipped from 8 to 9.
No guarantee past three hundred.
Suddenly, the American's cryptic parting shot made horribly perfect sense. Driven by what was now a very real fear, Paul leapt out of bed and raced for the telephone. He tried every number he could think of for Tony, each one resulting either in an answering machine or the irritating BT lady who snootily advised that the number would not connect.
"Now what?"
Even as he asked it aloud of himself, Paul knew the answer. He hurriedly got dressed, just hoping that the address he had was still correct. He risked a final glance at the clock.
2.55am.
"Hold on. I'm coming for you, Tony. Just please hold on."
And as he raced out of the house, all Paul could do was hope that he would reach him in time.
Fandom: Whose Line UK
Pairings: Hints at potential Paul/Tony
Rating: PG
Summary: Paul has a terrifying nightmare
Disclaimer: This fic is in no way intended to portray a true representation of the people involved. As far as I know, this never happened.
Beta: The lovely beedekka
Note: Inspired by Question 14 of this meme: 2 has a dream where 10 tells him/her to save 1, who is facing certain doom. What would 2 do?
Cross-posted to britline, whoselineslash and wl_fanfiction. Submitted to fanfic100 for prompt 074 - Dark.
Three Hundred
Paul woke with a start, heart racing as he sat up and glanced over at the clock. The blurry red glow slowly formed itself into numbers, informing him that it was currently 2.45am.
Letting out a slow breath that wasn't as steadying as he'd hoped, Paul thought back to the images that had been playing through his head before his abrupt awakening. It was that American bloke...what was his name? He'd met him once at a wrap party...sod it, that wasn't the important part. Some American bloke that Paul had met once had been stood on the edge of a dark, dense forest that seemed to have no clear path through it. On spotting Paul, he had not moved but had begun to speak almost as if Paul's presence had set off a trigger.
You have to save him. That forest is littered with demons and monsters; soul-suckers and venomous beings that will slowly tear him apart.
Just audible above Jeff's - that was it, Jeff, the American bloke’s name was - speech, there had been an eerie cacophony of shrieks, howls, hisses and screams. Paul had demanded to know who Jeff had been talking about.
You know full well who I mean. He's been lost in this forest for some time now, and the longer he stays here the more it turns itself into his very worst nightmare. It'll take some doing to reach him now...
Jeff had turned his gaze back to the forest. What should have been the continuation of the path Paul had been standing on had been blocked by a tangle of thorny plant matter. The few gaps in vegetation that existed were too small to allow any man through, let alone anyone of Paul's height.
"How am I meant to get through there?" he had demanded. "I didn't exactly come prepared for a rescue mission."
You have to find a way. It's the least you can do for the one you proclaim to love, but will do nothing to let him see that for your own stupid, petty fears.
Paul had known then who Jeff was talking about, and his gaze had returned to the forest. "Then this is my doing?"
Not just you. The forest of Tony's despair is made of many strands, but you are now the only one with strength of feeling enough to break through. But be quick, because there can be no guarantee past three hundred.
That had been the point where Paul had woken up. Thinking it over now, he felt a knot of panic in his stomach. This was by no means the first nightmare he had ever had, but he had never experienced anything so vivid, so real, and it was this that terrified him.
He glanced back at the clock. 2.48am was the displayed answer to his unspoken question. It was a ridiculous hour - there was no chance he'd risk phoning Tony now and facing his wrath. Not over a dream. He'd just go back to sleep and give his friend a call at a more human hour.
If you don't call now, it might be too late.
Paul's stomach lurched as Jeff’s voice sounded in his head, berating him for ignoring what he already feared . He stared at the clock, watching as the last digit flipped from 8 to 9.
No guarantee past three hundred.
Suddenly, the American's cryptic parting shot made horribly perfect sense. Driven by what was now a very real fear, Paul leapt out of bed and raced for the telephone. He tried every number he could think of for Tony, each one resulting either in an answering machine or the irritating BT lady who snootily advised that the number would not connect.
"Now what?"
Even as he asked it aloud of himself, Paul knew the answer. He hurriedly got dressed, just hoping that the address he had was still correct. He risked a final glance at the clock.
2.55am.
"Hold on. I'm coming for you, Tony. Just please hold on."
And as he raced out of the house, all Paul could do was hope that he would reach him in time.