(no subject)
Short little weird semi-NedSpain drabble.
AU.
Rated.....PG? For mentions of violence.
Written at three in the morning, pardon any derpiness please.
The beat of the life support monitor coincides with Jan’s heartbeat perfectly. One, two, one, two. He imagines that the lines that spike up with each breath are the same lines that spiked up through his ribcage. The same knives, the same bullets, the same blows.
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It had been stupid to get in the middle of them, really. He was just one man, and they were just six men, six armed men. But it had been that just one girl that had been the turning point. Whatever would have happened to her shouldn’t have even had the possibility of happening. But it had had the possibility, and Jan had stopped it. He’d nearly stopped it all, the doctors had told him, in a haze of painkillers and blurred faces. But at least the girl was all right. At least she wouldn’t have to suffer like the men had intended.
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He hadn’t heard if the men had been caught, or punished. He hoped that at least one of the two had happened, but wasn’t really sure if either was possible. Then again, right now, Jan wasn’t really sure about much at all, besides that the incessant beeping was getting on his nerves, and that he needed a cigarette. He started to reach into his rear pocket for one, before remembering that, yes, he was still in the hospital, and no, they didn’t allow smoking in here anyway. So they’d taken his cigarettes. Fabulous. The week couldn’t get any better, at this point.
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Lifting his head from his pillow and glancing at the bedside table, Jan saw a handmade card, the front “Thank you”, and there was a bouquet of flowers drawn in minute detail. So the girl was an artist, then. Well, one more life to contribute to the mess of society and culture. He rolled over and tried to block out the sound of his own heartbeat.
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The next day, he had a visitor. Not who he’d hoped, his sister, or even his best friend, just somebody he’d seen a few times at work. He reintroduced himself with a sunny smile and an extended hand, which Jan simply gazed at until it was stuffed back into his pocket. Jan knew who the man was, if only vaguely, but didn’t know why he of all people was visiting, or had even been let in to visit, when there were people he’d much rather be seeing than some unreasonably optimistic Spaniard, whose Dutch was abysmal, at best, and who ended up speaking with most everybody in English instead. At Jan’s harsh gaze, he produced a bouquet of flowers, an odd mixture of tulips and carnations, and set it on the nightstand next to the card, his smile faltering slightly as Jan followed his course around the room, before simply asking, “What are you doing here?”
And then the answer was just as ridiculous as the deep shade of green that the man’s eyes were, “Cheering you up, of course.”
AU.
Rated.....PG? For mentions of violence.
Written at three in the morning, pardon any derpiness please.
The beat of the life support monitor coincides with Jan’s heartbeat perfectly. One, two, one, two. He imagines that the lines that spike up with each breath are the same lines that spiked up through his ribcage. The same knives, the same bullets, the same blows.
----------------------------------------------------
It had been stupid to get in the middle of them, really. He was just one man, and they were just six men, six armed men. But it had been that just one girl that had been the turning point. Whatever would have happened to her shouldn’t have even had the possibility of happening. But it had had the possibility, and Jan had stopped it. He’d nearly stopped it all, the doctors had told him, in a haze of painkillers and blurred faces. But at least the girl was all right. At least she wouldn’t have to suffer like the men had intended.
----------------------------------------------------
He hadn’t heard if the men had been caught, or punished. He hoped that at least one of the two had happened, but wasn’t really sure if either was possible. Then again, right now, Jan wasn’t really sure about much at all, besides that the incessant beeping was getting on his nerves, and that he needed a cigarette. He started to reach into his rear pocket for one, before remembering that, yes, he was still in the hospital, and no, they didn’t allow smoking in here anyway. So they’d taken his cigarettes. Fabulous. The week couldn’t get any better, at this point.
----------------------------------------------------
Lifting his head from his pillow and glancing at the bedside table, Jan saw a handmade card, the front “Thank you”, and there was a bouquet of flowers drawn in minute detail. So the girl was an artist, then. Well, one more life to contribute to the mess of society and culture. He rolled over and tried to block out the sound of his own heartbeat.
----------------------------------------------------
The next day, he had a visitor. Not who he’d hoped, his sister, or even his best friend, just somebody he’d seen a few times at work. He reintroduced himself with a sunny smile and an extended hand, which Jan simply gazed at until it was stuffed back into his pocket. Jan knew who the man was, if only vaguely, but didn’t know why he of all people was visiting, or had even been let in to visit, when there were people he’d much rather be seeing than some unreasonably optimistic Spaniard, whose Dutch was abysmal, at best, and who ended up speaking with most everybody in English instead. At Jan’s harsh gaze, he produced a bouquet of flowers, an odd mixture of tulips and carnations, and set it on the nightstand next to the card, his smile faltering slightly as Jan followed his course around the room, before simply asking, “What are you doing here?”
And then the answer was just as ridiculous as the deep shade of green that the man’s eyes were, “Cheering you up, of course.”