(no subject)
OOC: This takes place a little before Jon is incapcitated, to be resolved whilst socker is out of country.
*working on PIF sensor, again, keeps finetuning it, doesn't know what else to do with the thing*
*worried about Jon, been hearing rumors about him, been stuck away, not really being told anything, supposes it's his own fault, not keeping up on his first officer duties like he said he would, been more concerned with what's happening in his own little corner, with EJ and the sensor....*
*should call Mal or something*
*not feeling the mental or physical energy for it, so continues working*
*the noises of Engineering filter in behind him, they're getting along fine without any interference from him, he's trained them well... they haven't even talked to him in a week, the new schedule system working out well*
*pokes the sensor, glancing up at the readouts every once in a while to confirm what he can tell from the variences in the pulses of energy he can feel through his tools*
*works in silence for some time, feeling oddly content for some reason*
*sensor tool slips, the air immeadiately begins to crackle and pulse around him, charged with PIF energy, every hair on his body standing on end as he tries to stop the overload, but it's too late, he can't stop it, just release the energy before the sensor explodes, taking out Engineering and the ship with it*
*jabs the tool into a clump of wires and data chips, and feels the air close in on him, shooting through his body and filling his eyes with a bright blue light*
And the tool clatters to the floor as he disappears from his workroom in the back of Engineering
He finds himself flat on his back in a wide field of grass, the rich, salty smell of the Gulf drifting carelessly on the breeze. He can hear the waves sighing against the beach below him, unloading their burdens on the sand. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, the sea air filling him, soaking every molecule in his body and relaxing his cares away.
He is home.
He pushes himself up from the grass, and walks toward the sound of the ocean. He stands on the edge of Dead Man's Drop, a sheer drop to the water below, one he's taken before, the dare of stupid and drunk teenagers whose parents are out of town. The sea reaches to the horizon, and the view comforts him, it's familiarity calming and soothing. He turns, staying near the edge of the bluff. The cottages and cabins he knew so well as a child line the edge of the cliff where it curves and gentles out into a slope behind the beach, creating kind of a half cove. He walks toward them, feeling more at ease than he ever has as he steps closer to his childhood summers.
He climbs up the steps into the cabin where he had his first kiss, his first game of Truth or Dare, his first heartbreak. His hands run over the faded wood, the smooth surfaces created out of too much use. He can almost hear the peals of laughter and can almost smell salt water and sun and wet hair. He breathes deep before stepping outside again.
He realizes that it's quiet, without even the sound of the birds calling over the sighs of the waves below. It's too quiet. He's the only one here.
He is alone.
He steps down from the old rickety porch of the cabin, a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Where is everyone? Why is he alone? He looks from side to side, panic slowly changing his face. Something is wrong. This isn't how home is supposed to be. His friends, his family... gone. He is alone, and he's done it to himself.
He is to blame, it's his fault that he's alone.
He begins to panic.
*working on PIF sensor, again, keeps finetuning it, doesn't know what else to do with the thing*
*worried about Jon, been hearing rumors about him, been stuck away, not really being told anything, supposes it's his own fault, not keeping up on his first officer duties like he said he would, been more concerned with what's happening in his own little corner, with EJ and the sensor....*
*should call Mal or something*
*not feeling the mental or physical energy for it, so continues working*
*the noises of Engineering filter in behind him, they're getting along fine without any interference from him, he's trained them well... they haven't even talked to him in a week, the new schedule system working out well*
*pokes the sensor, glancing up at the readouts every once in a while to confirm what he can tell from the variences in the pulses of energy he can feel through his tools*
*works in silence for some time, feeling oddly content for some reason*
*sensor tool slips, the air immeadiately begins to crackle and pulse around him, charged with PIF energy, every hair on his body standing on end as he tries to stop the overload, but it's too late, he can't stop it, just release the energy before the sensor explodes, taking out Engineering and the ship with it*
*jabs the tool into a clump of wires and data chips, and feels the air close in on him, shooting through his body and filling his eyes with a bright blue light*
And the tool clatters to the floor as he disappears from his workroom in the back of Engineering
He finds himself flat on his back in a wide field of grass, the rich, salty smell of the Gulf drifting carelessly on the breeze. He can hear the waves sighing against the beach below him, unloading their burdens on the sand. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, the sea air filling him, soaking every molecule in his body and relaxing his cares away.
He is home.
He pushes himself up from the grass, and walks toward the sound of the ocean. He stands on the edge of Dead Man's Drop, a sheer drop to the water below, one he's taken before, the dare of stupid and drunk teenagers whose parents are out of town. The sea reaches to the horizon, and the view comforts him, it's familiarity calming and soothing. He turns, staying near the edge of the bluff. The cottages and cabins he knew so well as a child line the edge of the cliff where it curves and gentles out into a slope behind the beach, creating kind of a half cove. He walks toward them, feeling more at ease than he ever has as he steps closer to his childhood summers.
He climbs up the steps into the cabin where he had his first kiss, his first game of Truth or Dare, his first heartbreak. His hands run over the faded wood, the smooth surfaces created out of too much use. He can almost hear the peals of laughter and can almost smell salt water and sun and wet hair. He breathes deep before stepping outside again.
He realizes that it's quiet, without even the sound of the birds calling over the sighs of the waves below. It's too quiet. He's the only one here.
He is alone.
He steps down from the old rickety porch of the cabin, a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Where is everyone? Why is he alone? He looks from side to side, panic slowly changing his face. Something is wrong. This isn't how home is supposed to be. His friends, his family... gone. He is alone, and he's done it to himself.
He is to blame, it's his fault that he's alone.
He begins to panic.