Fic: Erase, Erase, Elijah
title: Erase, Erase, Elijah
pairing: none, Elijah gen
rating: PG-13
summary: Elijah's too tired to save the planet
a/n: I wrote this as Citadel-verse, but that didn't quite work out, so now it's like... Citadel!Elijah-AU, if that makes any sense. This is the other thing I turned in to my writing class, for the Juggling prompt, and let's hope this revision isn't absolute crap. >.<
Coding took a lot of concentration. He was quite good at it, but it didn’t come easily to Elijah, who usually had trouble sitting still for long periods of time. This time, though, this time he was debugging a very important system. A life saving program-humanity saving, even-which he’d written himself for the military. He bent low over the table, squinting at the flow chart he’d drawn up earlier. He needed a new prescription, the scribbled letters were blurry. Or maybe he was just tired, yeah, that could be it. How long had he been working?
The pencil lead broke, so he looked up, looked for the old-fashioned hand-cranked sharpener he kept… somewhere. His long-distance vision was blurry too, though, and he settled for a new pencil. When he looked back at his monitor, he noticed a statement spelled wrong. God, he hated that. Such simple, stupid mistakes.
If only he had help on this, if only the whole stupid universe wasn’t counting on him to get it right. Stupid equations. Stupid systems. Stupid, stupid Elijah. No, that wasn’t true, he was an effing genius, that’s why the military hired him. God, if only he had some help.
The keyboard was warm to his touch, he’d been giving it quite the workout these past few days. Hmm, input the standard auto-calibration code, have the program refer back to it and oh crap, that was royally effed up. That placement didn’t make sense at all in the grand scheme of the program. He looked back down at his notes. Erase, erase. His friends liked working in pen; Elijah couldn’t stand it. He erased too much. They just scribbled it out, started fresh with a new sheet of paper. Elijah couldn’t stand to see the evidence of his mistakes, even crumpled up in the garbage can. Stupid, stupid-no. Elijah sighed; this was too difficult.
He needed sleep, God, if only he could sleep. But the entire stupid universe was leaning on him, and he had no help. Stupid natural disasters. Stupid coding bugs. Stupid guidance systems. He looked at the previous line. What the hell? Stupid variables, stupid, simple mistakes. Go back and close up the loops. Erase, erase.
Stupid programming. Why had he chosen this career? Why couldn’t he have, like, an assistant or something? Someone to fix these crap misspellings. Oh wait, that one’s not quite his fault. Stupid reference sheets. The font was too small. He called up the documents on his computer and magnified them, then clicked ‘print’. Elijah stood up, stretching wearily, to retrieve the pages the printer spit out a moment later. He looked down at them and tried to focus his vision. Come on, Elijah, come on, you’re not that tired.
He was, though, so tired. He sat down again and his head fell forward onto his wrist in exhaustion; his pencil broke again. Damn pencils. He could see why everyone worked in pen. There were twelve pieces of broken lead scattered on his desktop. No, eleven. God, he couldn’t even count. He needed help. He needed sleep. Stupid universe. Stupid entropy. Stupid fate. Except, he didn’t believe in fate.
The notes blurred again; this time they were too close to his eyes. He stood up. Fetched a bottle of water from the mini-fridge by the door. Wake up, wake up, Elijah, the world is waiting for you. He sighed again. What time was it? Shit, not more glowing digits. A twelve, a two. Wait, reverse that; 2:12. In the morning? Probably, but he wasn’t sure.
Fate of the fucking world, all on his shoulders. It didn’t matter that the mechanical bugs were almost fixed if his guidance program was still useless. Mechanical engine trouble plus electronic guidance system trouble equals nonstop work for everyone, equals less time to get the hell out of the danger zone. Figure it out, Elijah, come on. Wake up. Figure out this stupid bug and get some sleep.
He couldn’t see the error in the logic when he looked down at his notes, his scribbled program flow chart. He couldn’t see it, and he was exceedingly frustrated. Elijah, Elijah the prophet, right? He should see these errors, he should see them like he used to. The screen blurred again in front of his face; he needed more time. More time to sleep, more time to examine the code for mistakes. More time to erase and rewrite.
Erase, erase, Elijah, what were you thinking? Simple if-then loops, keep it simple. Can’t mess this up. Fate of the world, remember? He wasn’t cut out for this; too much stress. He needed to go back to writing civilian software or video game programs for kids. He typed in a new line, then looked down at his notes and sighed. Come on, Elijah, write legibly. Erase, rewrite; delete, retype.
His phone rang. It took him several minutes to find it under his notepapers. Where, where, follow the sound, Elijah, come on, wake up. Harsh words on the other line; Yes, sir, yes, I know there’s not much time. Soon as possible, yes, sir. I’m working on it, yes, sir.
The third bug is fixed now, yes, sir. Wait, was that right? Couldn’t possibly be right, that’s not where he’d been working in the program. Don’t say that out loud, Elijah, don’t tell them you’ve messed it up. Shut up, shut up, don’t say that, don’t say you haven’t fixed it yet.
No, not completely debugged, no, sir, still working on it, so sorry, sir. He hung up.
His eyes caught the clock again: 3:52. Oh shit, another minute ticked by, 3:53. No more time, no time to wait, to get it just right. They’re all going to die, all because of him. He typed in three lines of code above where the logic error kicked in. Hopefully it’s enough to bypass that loop. Enough to render the remaining bugs useless. Please, God, please, please let it be enough. Please save me.
pairing: none, Elijah gen
rating: PG-13
summary: Elijah's too tired to save the planet
a/n: I wrote this as Citadel-verse, but that didn't quite work out, so now it's like... Citadel!Elijah-AU, if that makes any sense. This is the other thing I turned in to my writing class, for the Juggling prompt, and let's hope this revision isn't absolute crap. >.<
Coding took a lot of concentration. He was quite good at it, but it didn’t come easily to Elijah, who usually had trouble sitting still for long periods of time. This time, though, this time he was debugging a very important system. A life saving program-humanity saving, even-which he’d written himself for the military. He bent low over the table, squinting at the flow chart he’d drawn up earlier. He needed a new prescription, the scribbled letters were blurry. Or maybe he was just tired, yeah, that could be it. How long had he been working?
The pencil lead broke, so he looked up, looked for the old-fashioned hand-cranked sharpener he kept… somewhere. His long-distance vision was blurry too, though, and he settled for a new pencil. When he looked back at his monitor, he noticed a statement spelled wrong. God, he hated that. Such simple, stupid mistakes.
If only he had help on this, if only the whole stupid universe wasn’t counting on him to get it right. Stupid equations. Stupid systems. Stupid, stupid Elijah. No, that wasn’t true, he was an effing genius, that’s why the military hired him. God, if only he had some help.
The keyboard was warm to his touch, he’d been giving it quite the workout these past few days. Hmm, input the standard auto-calibration code, have the program refer back to it and oh crap, that was royally effed up. That placement didn’t make sense at all in the grand scheme of the program. He looked back down at his notes. Erase, erase. His friends liked working in pen; Elijah couldn’t stand it. He erased too much. They just scribbled it out, started fresh with a new sheet of paper. Elijah couldn’t stand to see the evidence of his mistakes, even crumpled up in the garbage can. Stupid, stupid-no. Elijah sighed; this was too difficult.
He needed sleep, God, if only he could sleep. But the entire stupid universe was leaning on him, and he had no help. Stupid natural disasters. Stupid coding bugs. Stupid guidance systems. He looked at the previous line. What the hell? Stupid variables, stupid, simple mistakes. Go back and close up the loops. Erase, erase.
Stupid programming. Why had he chosen this career? Why couldn’t he have, like, an assistant or something? Someone to fix these crap misspellings. Oh wait, that one’s not quite his fault. Stupid reference sheets. The font was too small. He called up the documents on his computer and magnified them, then clicked ‘print’. Elijah stood up, stretching wearily, to retrieve the pages the printer spit out a moment later. He looked down at them and tried to focus his vision. Come on, Elijah, come on, you’re not that tired.
He was, though, so tired. He sat down again and his head fell forward onto his wrist in exhaustion; his pencil broke again. Damn pencils. He could see why everyone worked in pen. There were twelve pieces of broken lead scattered on his desktop. No, eleven. God, he couldn’t even count. He needed help. He needed sleep. Stupid universe. Stupid entropy. Stupid fate. Except, he didn’t believe in fate.
The notes blurred again; this time they were too close to his eyes. He stood up. Fetched a bottle of water from the mini-fridge by the door. Wake up, wake up, Elijah, the world is waiting for you. He sighed again. What time was it? Shit, not more glowing digits. A twelve, a two. Wait, reverse that; 2:12. In the morning? Probably, but he wasn’t sure.
Fate of the fucking world, all on his shoulders. It didn’t matter that the mechanical bugs were almost fixed if his guidance program was still useless. Mechanical engine trouble plus electronic guidance system trouble equals nonstop work for everyone, equals less time to get the hell out of the danger zone. Figure it out, Elijah, come on. Wake up. Figure out this stupid bug and get some sleep.
He couldn’t see the error in the logic when he looked down at his notes, his scribbled program flow chart. He couldn’t see it, and he was exceedingly frustrated. Elijah, Elijah the prophet, right? He should see these errors, he should see them like he used to. The screen blurred again in front of his face; he needed more time. More time to sleep, more time to examine the code for mistakes. More time to erase and rewrite.
Erase, erase, Elijah, what were you thinking? Simple if-then loops, keep it simple. Can’t mess this up. Fate of the world, remember? He wasn’t cut out for this; too much stress. He needed to go back to writing civilian software or video game programs for kids. He typed in a new line, then looked down at his notes and sighed. Come on, Elijah, write legibly. Erase, rewrite; delete, retype.
His phone rang. It took him several minutes to find it under his notepapers. Where, where, follow the sound, Elijah, come on, wake up. Harsh words on the other line; Yes, sir, yes, I know there’s not much time. Soon as possible, yes, sir. I’m working on it, yes, sir.
The third bug is fixed now, yes, sir. Wait, was that right? Couldn’t possibly be right, that’s not where he’d been working in the program. Don’t say that out loud, Elijah, don’t tell them you’ve messed it up. Shut up, shut up, don’t say that, don’t say you haven’t fixed it yet.
No, not completely debugged, no, sir, still working on it, so sorry, sir. He hung up.
His eyes caught the clock again: 3:52. Oh shit, another minute ticked by, 3:53. No more time, no time to wait, to get it just right. They’re all going to die, all because of him. He typed in three lines of code above where the logic error kicked in. Hopefully it’s enough to bypass that loop. Enough to render the remaining bugs useless. Please, God, please, please let it be enough. Please save me.