Le Tourbillon de la Vie (10/12)
Title: Le Tourbillon de la Vie
Characters: Claude, Sandra, an occasional OC or two
Pairings: Vague and one-sided Claude/Sandra, vague Claude/Noah if you really squint.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Language, violence, wordiness. The usual.
Word Count: 634
Spoilers: In this part not terribly much but for the story overall it really helps to have read the Golden Handshake series of the GN, as well as Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration, Part 1 (marginally) and The Caged Bird, Part 2, but it's not essential.
Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah.
Summary: A Company trip to Paris takes a turn for the...interesting.
A/N: Shorter then expected, this one. Hm. May just post the next part later today to make up for it.
As always, special thanks for englishmuffin2 for beta'ing and being awesome.
[ Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]
[Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Epilogue]
Two shots, his mind processed after the fact. Nearly on top of each other, but one had had the girl, the other girl, lying still in a steadily growing pool of blood as the fog dissipated even faster, and the other had his jacket and Noah’s shirt soaked in blood, but someone else’s, not the girl’s. Not his, because nothing hurt, so…
Noah’s, he thought, as he pulled away from the body underneath him, and knelt beside him.
“Noah?” he didn’t want to shout, but he almost didn’t hear it over his heartbeat. “Noah, are you…” he two fingers to the man’s neck. The thrum of his pulse, faster than it had been earlier, more normal, and Claude took a breath. “You all right?”
Sharp eyes blinked up at him again and he smiled. “Don’t move, rookie, don’t want you makin’ any more of a mess than usual.”
Noah gave a small laugh and sat up, moving Claude’s hand off his chest easily.
“’Don’t move’ too complicated a plan for you, mate? Good thing I didn’t let you in on the big one.”
“The big one being…” and Noah looked about to be sick, let himself drop back to the ground again, and Claude smirked.
“Told you so,” he just had to say. “Just let me…” his hand dropped to Noah’s side, the one with the most blood on it, because that was logical.
“I don’t…I don’t think I got hit, Claude, it’s not…”
“Shock,” he said quickly. “’s why you don’t feel anythin’.”
“Claude-“
There weren’t any holes, there wasn’t any cringing, and he wasn’t going to bother with anything as prosaic as asking where it hurt because after what Noah’d been through were wouldn’t it.
“Sandra?” Noah was saying, looking over his shoulder.
“She’s fine, mate, hangin’ round the hotel with a friend of mine, and-“
“No she’s…right…”
Claude turned around. Sandra had a hand over her mouth and was looking like she didn’t want to step any closer.
He sighed and turned back to Noah.
“You’re hallucinatin’. From the drugs she gave you,” he said, and Noah looked at him for a second and then nodded. Closed his eyes, but Claude was willing to let him, as he called over his shoulder.
“Didn’t wait till I gave the signal, did you?”
“Oh, like you were ever gonna give the signal,” he could feel her drop next to him. Saw her hands go out to stoke at Noah’s forehead, smoothing back his hair, and Claude swallowed. Focused his attention elsewhere.
“No, I suppose I wasn’t,” he was willing to admit, with a quick nod. “Matter of fact Brahim was supposed to get you back to the hotel once I got inside, but, well, he’s apparently worse at followin’ directions than the two of you.”
He heard Sandra laugh, and then stop.
Turned to look at her, and her face was…was enough to make him drop his eyes again.
“He’ll be fine, Sandra, it’s nothin’, really, I’m sure-“
“Claude…” he could hear her say, her tone careful. “I think you’re…I think you’re bleeding.”
“No I’m not,” he said automatically, hand going to his own side just as quickly. “Right. Well. Maybe I…” he sat back a moment. “Maybe I am, but…just a…just a scratch.” He took a breath.
Needed to stop his heart from beating quite so fast, that’d only make it worse, only make the warmth trickling down his back and chest and dripping down his leg worse and Sandra had enough to deal with, at the moment, without him keeling over like he very much wanted to.
Awful lot of warmth, though. Awful lot of warmth even as everything else started getting colder, so much…
“Sandra?” he managed. “’m gonna need you to call an ambulance, all right?”
*
Characters: Claude, Sandra, an occasional OC or two
Pairings: Vague and one-sided Claude/Sandra, vague Claude/Noah if you really squint.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Language, violence, wordiness. The usual.
Word Count: 634
Spoilers: In this part not terribly much but for the story overall it really helps to have read the Golden Handshake series of the GN, as well as Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration, Part 1 (marginally) and The Caged Bird, Part 2, but it's not essential.
Disclaimer: Not mine, blah blah.
Summary: A Company trip to Paris takes a turn for the...interesting.
A/N: Shorter then expected, this one. Hm. May just post the next part later today to make up for it.
As always, special thanks for englishmuffin2 for beta'ing and being awesome.
[ Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]
[Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Epilogue]
Two shots, his mind processed after the fact. Nearly on top of each other, but one had had the girl, the other girl, lying still in a steadily growing pool of blood as the fog dissipated even faster, and the other had his jacket and Noah’s shirt soaked in blood, but someone else’s, not the girl’s. Not his, because nothing hurt, so…
Noah’s, he thought, as he pulled away from the body underneath him, and knelt beside him.
“Noah?” he didn’t want to shout, but he almost didn’t hear it over his heartbeat. “Noah, are you…” he two fingers to the man’s neck. The thrum of his pulse, faster than it had been earlier, more normal, and Claude took a breath. “You all right?”
Sharp eyes blinked up at him again and he smiled. “Don’t move, rookie, don’t want you makin’ any more of a mess than usual.”
Noah gave a small laugh and sat up, moving Claude’s hand off his chest easily.
“’Don’t move’ too complicated a plan for you, mate? Good thing I didn’t let you in on the big one.”
“The big one being…” and Noah looked about to be sick, let himself drop back to the ground again, and Claude smirked.
“Told you so,” he just had to say. “Just let me…” his hand dropped to Noah’s side, the one with the most blood on it, because that was logical.
“I don’t…I don’t think I got hit, Claude, it’s not…”
“Shock,” he said quickly. “’s why you don’t feel anythin’.”
“Claude-“
There weren’t any holes, there wasn’t any cringing, and he wasn’t going to bother with anything as prosaic as asking where it hurt because after what Noah’d been through were wouldn’t it.
“Sandra?” Noah was saying, looking over his shoulder.
“She’s fine, mate, hangin’ round the hotel with a friend of mine, and-“
“No she’s…right…”
Claude turned around. Sandra had a hand over her mouth and was looking like she didn’t want to step any closer.
He sighed and turned back to Noah.
“You’re hallucinatin’. From the drugs she gave you,” he said, and Noah looked at him for a second and then nodded. Closed his eyes, but Claude was willing to let him, as he called over his shoulder.
“Didn’t wait till I gave the signal, did you?”
“Oh, like you were ever gonna give the signal,” he could feel her drop next to him. Saw her hands go out to stoke at Noah’s forehead, smoothing back his hair, and Claude swallowed. Focused his attention elsewhere.
“No, I suppose I wasn’t,” he was willing to admit, with a quick nod. “Matter of fact Brahim was supposed to get you back to the hotel once I got inside, but, well, he’s apparently worse at followin’ directions than the two of you.”
He heard Sandra laugh, and then stop.
Turned to look at her, and her face was…was enough to make him drop his eyes again.
“He’ll be fine, Sandra, it’s nothin’, really, I’m sure-“
“Claude…” he could hear her say, her tone careful. “I think you’re…I think you’re bleeding.”
“No I’m not,” he said automatically, hand going to his own side just as quickly. “Right. Well. Maybe I…” he sat back a moment. “Maybe I am, but…just a…just a scratch.” He took a breath.
Needed to stop his heart from beating quite so fast, that’d only make it worse, only make the warmth trickling down his back and chest and dripping down his leg worse and Sandra had enough to deal with, at the moment, without him keeling over like he very much wanted to.
Awful lot of warmth, though. Awful lot of warmth even as everything else started getting colder, so much…
“Sandra?” he managed. “’m gonna need you to call an ambulance, all right?”
*