Prompt Post 2
Welcome to the second round of the_eagle_kink .
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
- MORE MOD NOTES: Alright guys I know this fandom is really into historical accuracy and all that jazz but here's the thing. This is a KINK MEME and therefore historical accuracy is not ( Read more... )
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Roland didn’t have any space for Marcus at headquarters so they gave him enough money for a room at a motel on the outskirts of Annapolis, across the bay. Roland had given him the keys for an old blue Ford truck that took three turns of the key to start up properly and told him to be back at headquarters the next morning.
There’s a sign on the reception desk that says that patrons have to pay five dollars for wifi access and Marcus pretends not to see it as he hands over the money for his room and asks, “There wouldn’t be a place where I can check my email real quick, would there?”
The woman behind the desk has her eyes on the bars stitched onto his jacket when she says, “If you want, you can use the other computer back here real quick.” She meets his eyes and smiles, leaning forward slightly so he can catch more of her cleavage, “The other girl just stepped out for a quick smoke-you can have it as long as she’s out.”
Marcus knows that she’s only flirting because of the uniform but he doesn’t really have a choice. He nods, smiling back and she opens the employee entrance for him.
“What are you doing here in Annapolis?” she asks as he pulls up a new window and logs into his email. She laughs a little, “Or is that classified?”
“Classified,” Marcus figures it’s the best way to get her to stop talking. The last email Esca sent him was a month ago-he spent a paragraph telling Marcus about the vodka in Russia and signed off with the normal -E. Esca uses a different email address every time he sends Marcus a message and he’s never replied to any of the messages that Marcus has sent in reply.
He hadn’t thought it was strange before-maybe he was a little frustrated and thought that Esca was just terrified of commitments-like getting a reply to an email meant that he was obligated to reply, like never leaving a phone number meant he didn’t have to answer to Marcus. And reading these emails now: Hi Marcus, I wandered a little too close to Prypiat and took pictures that I’m hoping someone will buy, Hi Marcus, someday you should see the sun set over Mumbai, Hi Marcus, I was in Boston this week and thought about taking the train out but I didn’t think you’d be home-he can’t reconcile any of these with the Esca that stared at him through that photograph Roland showed him.
Marcus hates Esca-he hates him for taking everything from him and never giving anything in return-just these stupid messages that Marcus always replies to and never gets an answer, he hates that his heart always skips a beat when his phone rings from an unknown number like he’s fucking fifteen years old. And he hates that he lets Esca do this to him, that he answers the phone for a casual conversation like everything is fine and he’s not hurt that Esca left and won’t come back, that Esca’s pretends there was never anything between them, that he takes and he takes and he takes and Marcus just keeps giving until there’s nothing of him left.
He answers the phone because he wants to hear the sound of Esca’s voice, because he’s a masochist and he keeps fooling himself that making Esca laugh is going to make him stick around a little longer. It’s a fucked up relationship, and he doesn’t hold any of the strings and he keeps telling himself that he’s not invested in it, that he’s going to find a girl and settle down and stop thinking about Esca, stop replying to his stupid emails, stop stop stop.
But it’s too much of a coincidence, Roland’s Griffin and his Esca and it feels like all of the years are being pulled from beneath his feet, all of the lies and none of it makes sense or everything makes sense and he types Esca, Please call me. -M and hits send before he can reconsider.
“Hey, my coworker’s coming back,” the receptionist says. Marcus logs out.
“Thanks,” he says and shows himself out.
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i actually uploaded jumper to megaupload, which you can find here if you're still looking for a copy. i tried uploading gi joe to megaupload too--twice actually; but both times megaupload insisted that there was an error. i honestly don't blame it considering that gi joe has absolutely no redeeming value. not even channing tatum's face can save that movie. probably a good choice on megaupload's behalf. >_>
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And now that you have enabled me, what can I do to enable more fic? *pokes*
♥
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It’s been three days since he sent the email. No calls have been forwarded to him in that time. Marcus didn’t really expect Esca to call.
“You’re going to have to be much faster than that,” Roland says, leaning on the railing overlooking the warehouse where they set up a makeshift arena.
Marcus whips the taser back and it reels back into the rod, “In a real fight, I would be using an M16.”
“In a real fight, a jumper would disappear faster than the bullet can reach them.”
The laser target jumps from position to position on the floor-Marcus watches it for a moment before it gets into range and he lets the taser whip out, claws scrabbling along the concrete ground exactly where the tiny dot is.
“I’m here to tell you that your training ends today. We received a tip on where the seals are located.”
Marcus jerks the taser back.
“You’re a pretty quick learner,” Roland admits.
“Fast enough for the Griffin?”
Roland laughs.
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It takes nearly four hours for them to get to Colorado Springs and then another two hours of climbing northwest through the mountains in an armored car before they even start to get close to where the seal people are located. Marcus looks out the window into the darkness with his rifle across his lap and wonders what Nick is doing, if he’s angry that Marcus abandoned him to do this on his own. He’s probably filling out paperwork-and Marcus feels another surge of determination: he won’t have let his men died for nothing-he’s going to retrieve the Eagle and they will have died protecting the innocent unborn.
He’s not looking forward to when the mission is over and he has to tell the families.
“Hey,” the man sitting next to him says and nudges the M16 on his lap, “You actually ever use that?”
Marcus looks at the other paladin. He’s smiling a little bit and eyeing the gun like it’s beneath him.
“I served four tours in Iraq. This has worked for me pretty well, thanks.”
“I guess you never really understand how much more useful one of these is,” the other paladin holds up the taser, “Until you actually go head to head with a jumper.”
“And with some of them, these are pretty fucking useless,” the paladin in front says. She looks over her shoulder at Marcus, “I don’t know how you managed to impress Roland, but until I’ve actually seen you in combat? It’s gonna take a lot more than Roland’s word to earn my respect.”
“Yeah, and if we run into the Griffin, good luck trying to get out of that one alive,” the man next to him says, “Maybe you can try shooting at him.”
“Stop being a dick, Antonio,” the woman says, turning around.
Antonio falls silent, but he’s still smiling.
“I don’t get it,” Marcus says, “Why the hell is everyone so terrified of this Griffin?”
“Terrified?” Antonio asks, “Terrified, no. Angry as hell, yes. Justifiably cautious, yes. You wouldn’t be asking that question if you knew how many paladins he’s killed.”
It’s not his Esca. He doesn’t believe it’s his Esca.
“You think you’ve got him pinned one minute, the next he’s pulling one over you.” Antonio lifts his chin, shows a thick scar across the underside of his jaw that’s barely visible in the dim light, “A present from him, years ago. I was fucking lucky he missed.”
“He’s fast. The last time anyone alive has seen his face definitely has to be, what? A year ago?”
“Shin,” Antonio agrees, “And that was only because he was winded after dropping a fucking train on her.”
Not his Esca.
“So don’t get cocky, kid,” Antonio tells him, “These jumpers are nasty.”
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The entire car is tumbling from fifteen feet in the air.
The impact winds him and there’s a sharp pain from where the seatbelt cuts into his skin through his clothes. His head hits the back of his seat in the whiplash and he blacks out.
When he comes to, there is shouting outside and the sound of gunfire. This is a situation he’s used to-he unbuckles himself-the woman is gone but Antonio is still buckled in next to him. He half considers shaking Antonio awake but climbs out of the car instead. Instinct tells him to trust his M16 over the stupid taser that these paladins love so much and he runs on automatic, ducking low and looking for cover as he assesses the situation.
The shouting gets louder as he follows the tracks that the woman left behind-notices burn marks scored into the trunks of the pine trees, singed pine needles every few hundred yards. Taser marks.
“You can’t run forever,” Roland is saying as Marcus slips into the clearing where the paladins are located. A moment later, he’s seizing in agony as one of the tasers strikes him in the chest, an involuntary shout ripping from his throat.
And then it’s gone and the woman from earlier is peering down at him, “Jesus Christ, are you retarded? You don’t fucking sneak up on paladins like that.” She pries the wire loose and reels it back into the rod. Nobody else is paying him any mind. He gets back to his feet as she rejoins the rest of them, feeling stupid for the amateur mistake. He had underestimated this group.
There’s movement on the far side of the clearing and one of the paladins whips his taser forward-nothing.
There’s a shift of pine needles next to him and Marcus suddenly knows-he doesn’t have to turn his head, he just knows-
It’s Esca.
He’s thinner than Marcus remembers, all wiry muscle and silent strength underneath the too-big shirt. He stares at Marcus, and Marcus can feel his heart pounding-he wants to grab Esca and beg him not to leave again, he wants to tell Esca to go because he’s going to be killed. Esca doesn’t look away from Marcus’s face-even as the wire whips around Esca, ten thousand volts conducted across his skin and making him cry out in pain.
“Kill him!”
Marcus has the gun, he can’t miss from this distance-he has a hundred things to say and no time to say them.
The moment of hesitation is all Esca needs-a flash of the knife, the wires fall away, and-
He is gone.
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there's so much painful realization and it's all wonderfully worked into the action.
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(Yes, other!anon is probably still going to fill this too but still finals-slammed and it probably won't be this AWESOME!)
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THIS STORY IS BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING.
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“There is no excuse,” Roland says as he gets into the front seat of the van. He doesn’t look at Marcus as he closes the door. Marcus doesn’t know if he’s even allowed to get into the van with the way that everyone is glaring at him. The woman from earlier shoves him towards the door and shakes her head at him and he figures that means he’s at least allowed a ride back to civilization.
He keeps thinking about Esca, the way he had barely flinched when the electricity had crawled over his skin. He wishes it hadn’t been so dark, that he could have taken the time to rememorize Esca’s face, ask him why. But the mission isn’t over, Esca is gone, and there’s no use trying to cling to what might have been.
“You really fucked up,” the woman tells him as he opens the door. He doesn’t say anything in reply, just climbs into the van.
They drive in silence for a while and Marcus doesn’t know how to apologize. He keeps gearing himself up to say something, then backing down just as he’s about to open his mouth in fear of saying something wrong. They pass by a sign that tells them that they’re in Fairplay when the woman speaks again.
“First time in years we get a clear shot?”
“Quiet, Michelle.”
She snorts and looks at Marcus like she would rather spit on him.
They stop at a motel. Marcus is half expecting to have to pay for his own room when Roland hands him a key.
“They teach you to kill in the army, don’t they?”
Marcus looks straight ahead, posture stiff-a yes, sir doesn’t seem right.
Roland turns, “I’ll let you know in the morning if you have a flight out.”
“Sir,” Marcus calls out, “It won’t happen again.”
Roland pauses for only a moment before he’s gone through the lobby doors.
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The water runs down his shoulders and it stings when it slides across the broken skin over his collarbone. It hurt like fuck to peel the cloth and dried blood off his skin and his body is covered in bruises from being thrown around so many times. His shoulder still aches from where he landed on it.
He presses his forehead to the tiled wall and is too tired to care about how dirty the bathroom might be. He spent two weeks during the summer in Iraq without changing his clothes. This is nothing.
He’s too tired to think about anything and he wants to just sleep for a few consecutive hours without having to think about anything. Maybe he can make more sense of things in the morning-maybe he can make his case to Roland in the morning when he’s not shellshocked by the fact that Esca has been lying to him, possibly all of his life.
He doesn’t look at himself in the mirror as he spits toothpaste into the sink and hopes that he packed a soft shirt in his duffel as he opens the bathroom door.
Esca is sitting in the armchair across the room.
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Esca gets up-and he’s immediately next to Marcus, eyes on the ugly red welt on his collarbone, his fingers hovering barely an inch from Marcus’s skin. He looks up at Marcus and there’s a break in his voice, “I did that.”
“You shouldn’t be-Roland’s in the next room.”
Esca isn’t listening-he’s tracing the outline of bruises across Marcus’s chest without touching his skin, close enough that Marcus can feel the heat and his body doesn’t seem to be getting the impending danger because he’s leaning in towards Esca like nothing has changed. His breathing shallows as Esca touches his side, feather light, and he wants to grab the other man’s wrist-what is this, what are we, why?
“You can’t,” Esca says, his voice breaking again and Marcus wants to curl up around him, shield him from the bright hurts in this world-he wants and wants and can’t have, what are we Esca? “You can’t be one of them.”
Marcus laughs and keeps his hands fisted in the towel across his waist because he wants to touch this man so badly but he won’t give in, this isn’t a game he can keep playing forever.
“You lied to me,” Marcus says and it takes all of his willpower to step back, to look in Esca’s face and see the pain written in the line across his forehead, “You lied to me for all twenty years that I’ve ever known you and you think you can fucking walk back into my life like it’s nothing?”
“Marcus,” Esca says and he sounds scared, looks terrified in the way that he’s hunching in on himself. In the brighter light, Marcus can see a scattering of faint scars along Esca’s temple, a twisted mess of skin underneath his jaw.
“Tell me,” Marcus says.
“When I left,” Esca says, “The fire that burned down my apartment complex. That was them, Marcus, they knew already. They killed my parents and they left me for dead.”
“You could have told me. You could have trusted me-I would have protected you.”
“What would you have done? You can’t throw money at everything and expect it the problem to go away. You don’t know these paladins, Marcus.”
“I am one.”
“You can’t kill me,” Esca laughs on a faintly hysterical note and he steps closer, “You’re not a paladin.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Esca presses a knife into his hand, grabs his wrist and presses the blade to his own throat. He holds Marcus’s wrist steady and his eyes are on Marcus’s face, “Then prove it.” A sad smile breaks across his face, “I’m too much of a coward to do this myself-end it for me, Marcus.”
Marcus doesn’t move his hand but Esca moves closer, blood beading onto the blade as it cuts into the pale skin. Marcus jerks the knife away, throws it on the ground.
“I thought,” Esca said, “I thought that once I killed enough of them, I could safely come back to you.” He touches Marcus’s face, a sweep of fingertips across his jaw, “I never meant to make you wait. I never meant to leave for good.”
“I would have come with you.”
“You were seventeen and stupid. I wouldn’t have let you thrown your life away.”
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I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT THAT.
total genius crossover fic. It's almost making me want to watch Jumper again, just to see Esca.
Yes, it is that good. I almost want to WATCH JUMPER. Craziness.
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