TSCC fic: Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged (2/?, pg-13)
Title: Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 950 (this part)
Beta: rodlox
Focus: wee!Jesse Flores
Prompt: Jesse's Judgment Day - courtesy of chaila43
Warnings: Bad language and an overall frightening situation.
Author's note: Well, I initially thought this would run to at most 2,000 words for the total fic, but it's looking to be a bit longer than that. As best I can tell right now, there will be one or two more parts. The whole thing is meant to chronicle Jesse's first day/night post bomb-fall. And just in case it wasn't obvious from part one, it's kinda dark. :(
--------------------------
It was dark when Jesse came to. She allowed her eyes to drift closed again and just listened. She wasn’t outside anymore; the air was close and humid and there was the occasional burst of breeze or wind, as through an open window. Off to her right there were voices, three of them maybe? She didn’t pay much attention to them at first, not caring past the dull ache in her head. They blurred together, lulling her nearly to sleep. But then beneath her the ground vibrated; outside thunder rumbled, low and guttural. “Fuck this.” A man, his voice strident.
“Shh…” She couldn’t tell if that was a man or a woman, but it wasn’t the same person as the first.
“Don’t shush me. The kid’s out of it and she’s probably said worse’n that herself.” A rustling, scuffling sound. “I’m outta here.”
“I wouldn’t go haring off, if I were you,” another man observed from what Jesse thought must be the far side of the room.
“Why the fuck not?”
“The bombs are still falling. It’s safer in here.”
“Yeah, right,” the first man protested, but he still hadn’t left. “That was nothing like those bombs. Probably just somebody’s car caught fire and it reached the petrol.”
“That, Mr. Krieg, was the sound of a bomb, not a car exploding. From the direction and sound of it, I’d say they just took out the Perth Airport.”
“Well, if it was a bomb, it’s all kilometers from here. I’ll take my chances. My family’s out there.” Jesse heard a heavy thud and then the sound of running footsteps, fading with distance.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Definitely a woman, somewhere in the vicinity of Jesse’s feet.
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
Still lying on her back, Jesse opened her eyes and pushed herself up, supporting her weight on her elbows, but she had trouble focusing on anything. She blinked hard a couple of times, shook her head and everything snapped into place in tandem with bright blooms of pain from her head and left side. Sliding back down to the floor, she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped.
“She’s awake,” the woman observed. Jesse heard shuffling and then a gentle hand touched her forehead. “Everything’s going to be alright, sweetheart,” the woman said.
“Bullshit,” Jesse replied, knowing Mum would be appalled at her, had she been there. There was a sharp intake of breath from the woman and the man snorted. Jesse tried to sit up once more, slowly this time, but her head spun and her side hurt so badly with the movement that she collapsed again. Maybe she should just continue to lie still for a while…
“What’s your name, girl?” the man asked her.
Jesse stared up at the ceiling, which was sparsely illuminated by the dim sunlight that pushed in through the blown out windows on the two outer walls of the room. She considered ignoring the man, but instead countered, “Where are we? And who are you?”
The sound of another distant explosion drifted in from somewhere beyond the windows, although it was nothing like what had rocked everything before. Not even strong enough, like the one a couple of minutes ago, to shake the floor or rattle the windows, had they still had glass in them.
“Now that was probably someone’s petrol tank.” There was a scraping sound from the far side of the room as the man drew closer to where Jesse lay. When he was close enough, he dropped down to the floor beside her and said, “We’re inside the Beachside Office Complex. This and the connecting room are the Air Force Recruitment Center, or at least they were a few hours ago. I’m Sergeant Rollins and this nice lady is Mrs. Toomba.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial stage whisper as he leaned in closer. “Who I think you may have mortally offended.” Jesse heard the smile in his tone and felt much more reassured than she had at the platitude the woman, Mrs. Toomba, had offered.
Jesse focused her attention on Sergeant Rollins. “Someone bombed us?” It was as much statement of fact as question. He nodded; his head and shoulders were backlit and she couldn’t see his face in the gloom. “How did I get here?” she asked.
“You fetched up against the door and I pulled you inside first chance I got.” He smoothed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “From the impact, I expect you might have a concussion and some broken ribs. We should try to get you to a hospital.”
Mrs. Toomba hissed at him. “Hush. You’ll frighten her.”
“I’m not a child,” Jesse snapped, sounding petulant even to herself. Annoyed, she turned her attention back to Sergeant Rollins. “I’m Jesse. Jesse Flores.”
“How old are you, Jesse Flores. Since you’re not a child.”
“Twelve.”
“And where might we find your parents?”
Stricken, Jesse frowned. “I don’t know. They were both at work.” She looked toward the windows, her gaze caught by the sight of a palm tree stripped of its leaves. “In Perth.”
“Why weren’t you in school?” His voice was gentle.
Unexpected tears burned the backs of her eyes and she had to force her answer past a throat suddenly constricted. “I missed my bus. It was a field trip to Campbell Barracks.”
Her words were met with silence and then Rollins took her hand, folded it in both of his. “Well, then, Jesse. I guess this was your lucky day.” The sympathy underneath the irony in his voice broke something inside her and the tears made hot tracks from the corners of her eyes, dripping down into her ears.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 950 (this part)
Beta: rodlox
Focus: wee!Jesse Flores
Prompt: Jesse's Judgment Day - courtesy of chaila43
Warnings: Bad language and an overall frightening situation.
Author's note: Well, I initially thought this would run to at most 2,000 words for the total fic, but it's looking to be a bit longer than that. As best I can tell right now, there will be one or two more parts. The whole thing is meant to chronicle Jesse's first day/night post bomb-fall. And just in case it wasn't obvious from part one, it's kinda dark. :(
--------------------------
It was dark when Jesse came to. She allowed her eyes to drift closed again and just listened. She wasn’t outside anymore; the air was close and humid and there was the occasional burst of breeze or wind, as through an open window. Off to her right there were voices, three of them maybe? She didn’t pay much attention to them at first, not caring past the dull ache in her head. They blurred together, lulling her nearly to sleep. But then beneath her the ground vibrated; outside thunder rumbled, low and guttural. “Fuck this.” A man, his voice strident.
“Shh…” She couldn’t tell if that was a man or a woman, but it wasn’t the same person as the first.
“Don’t shush me. The kid’s out of it and she’s probably said worse’n that herself.” A rustling, scuffling sound. “I’m outta here.”
“I wouldn’t go haring off, if I were you,” another man observed from what Jesse thought must be the far side of the room.
“Why the fuck not?”
“The bombs are still falling. It’s safer in here.”
“Yeah, right,” the first man protested, but he still hadn’t left. “That was nothing like those bombs. Probably just somebody’s car caught fire and it reached the petrol.”
“That, Mr. Krieg, was the sound of a bomb, not a car exploding. From the direction and sound of it, I’d say they just took out the Perth Airport.”
“Well, if it was a bomb, it’s all kilometers from here. I’ll take my chances. My family’s out there.” Jesse heard a heavy thud and then the sound of running footsteps, fading with distance.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Definitely a woman, somewhere in the vicinity of Jesse’s feet.
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
Still lying on her back, Jesse opened her eyes and pushed herself up, supporting her weight on her elbows, but she had trouble focusing on anything. She blinked hard a couple of times, shook her head and everything snapped into place in tandem with bright blooms of pain from her head and left side. Sliding back down to the floor, she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped.
“She’s awake,” the woman observed. Jesse heard shuffling and then a gentle hand touched her forehead. “Everything’s going to be alright, sweetheart,” the woman said.
“Bullshit,” Jesse replied, knowing Mum would be appalled at her, had she been there. There was a sharp intake of breath from the woman and the man snorted. Jesse tried to sit up once more, slowly this time, but her head spun and her side hurt so badly with the movement that she collapsed again. Maybe she should just continue to lie still for a while…
“What’s your name, girl?” the man asked her.
Jesse stared up at the ceiling, which was sparsely illuminated by the dim sunlight that pushed in through the blown out windows on the two outer walls of the room. She considered ignoring the man, but instead countered, “Where are we? And who are you?”
The sound of another distant explosion drifted in from somewhere beyond the windows, although it was nothing like what had rocked everything before. Not even strong enough, like the one a couple of minutes ago, to shake the floor or rattle the windows, had they still had glass in them.
“Now that was probably someone’s petrol tank.” There was a scraping sound from the far side of the room as the man drew closer to where Jesse lay. When he was close enough, he dropped down to the floor beside her and said, “We’re inside the Beachside Office Complex. This and the connecting room are the Air Force Recruitment Center, or at least they were a few hours ago. I’m Sergeant Rollins and this nice lady is Mrs. Toomba.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial stage whisper as he leaned in closer. “Who I think you may have mortally offended.” Jesse heard the smile in his tone and felt much more reassured than she had at the platitude the woman, Mrs. Toomba, had offered.
Jesse focused her attention on Sergeant Rollins. “Someone bombed us?” It was as much statement of fact as question. He nodded; his head and shoulders were backlit and she couldn’t see his face in the gloom. “How did I get here?” she asked.
“You fetched up against the door and I pulled you inside first chance I got.” He smoothed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “From the impact, I expect you might have a concussion and some broken ribs. We should try to get you to a hospital.”
Mrs. Toomba hissed at him. “Hush. You’ll frighten her.”
“I’m not a child,” Jesse snapped, sounding petulant even to herself. Annoyed, she turned her attention back to Sergeant Rollins. “I’m Jesse. Jesse Flores.”
“How old are you, Jesse Flores. Since you’re not a child.”
“Twelve.”
“And where might we find your parents?”
Stricken, Jesse frowned. “I don’t know. They were both at work.” She looked toward the windows, her gaze caught by the sight of a palm tree stripped of its leaves. “In Perth.”
“Why weren’t you in school?” His voice was gentle.
Unexpected tears burned the backs of her eyes and she had to force her answer past a throat suddenly constricted. “I missed my bus. It was a field trip to Campbell Barracks.”
Her words were met with silence and then Rollins took her hand, folded it in both of his. “Well, then, Jesse. I guess this was your lucky day.” The sympathy underneath the irony in his voice broke something inside her and the tears made hot tracks from the corners of her eyes, dripping down into her ears.