Fic: Day One
My random fic never makes it to my writing journal when I'm multitasking, I've discovered. XD This is basically my take on the end of Day One of daisychainrpg's endgame on the Ultimatum, where we have five EBA and three injuries already, as well as an Atlantean crystal being passed around. Good times. |D
~~*~~
Supposedly, a good day was a day when you learned something new. By that standard, J's day should have been fantastic.
Helping a recently-tazed and still-bleeding Morris carry an unconscious Foxx to the kid with the healing crystal while trying to ignore the pain coming from his own bullet wound, J was finding the "good day" standard a bit hard to believe.
He'd gotten the crystal from the kid - Larsa, pretty good guy, he'd have to remember that - and turned it on Foxx, using it to cleanse the tranquilizer from her system while Morris, Starr, and Missy looked on. Morris, who had to be verbally browbeaten to be convinced to go before the girls, was next, and by that time J had started to feel dizzy himself - not from his injury (a graze left by a bullet on the side of his neck), but from the sheer amount of energy needed to use the crystal. Against protestations from Morris (who could see and hear just how much he was wearing himself out), Starr (who threatened to cause some damage of her own if he didn't take it easy), and even Missy herself, he'd insisted on taking care of Missy next. It had taken his best Chieftain impersonation - a serious gaze and a calm, authoritative command - but Missy had raised her arm, letting him touch the crystal to the injection site and then lay his hand against it, willing the venom out of her system. He felt the crystal take its toll on him as it complied, and he'd barely had time to pass it off to Starr (whom he trusted to heal herself, as she had willpower and strength aplenty) before he collapsed against the wall, panting for breath. He closed his eyes and tried to get himself or at least his breathing under control, but after everything that had happened today control just wouldn't come. He'd exhausted himself completely; if it weren't for the wall, he wouldn't have even been standing at the moment.
But his team - what he could find of it, at least - was alright. That was what mattered.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he felt a cool touch on his neck, followed by warm pressure. He winced and opened one eye and there was Starr, crystal in hand, taking care of him the same way he'd taken care of everyone else. He managed a slight smile as the pain in his neck faded under her touch.
Then she slapped him across the face.
"What th- Starr!" he spluttered, more surprised than hurt and definitely more awake than he had been before.
She wasn't done with him yet. "When you're done being an idiot, let me know," she snapped, turning to give the crystal back to Larsa. All he could do was look after her, staring in mild shock.
Her expression had softened a bit by the time she returned, but J well knew it didn't mean he wasn't going to get slapped again. "Think 'm done," he managed.
"Good." She sighed. "You know you don't have to do this all yourself. It's a two-way street."
Okay, maybe he'd get out of this one without getting smacked again. "Yeah, I know," he admitted.
"Then quit acting like you don't." She socked him in the shoulder on the last word. Man, he was going to need the crystal again at this rate.
"Okay," he laughed, tired, and pushed himself off the wall, intending to find a cell for them to hole up and crash out in. Starr caught him before his legs gave out completely, and he managed an exhausted smile as she sighed again, rolled her eyes, and supported him anyway. Evidently he wasn't as awake as he'd originally thought.
With her help, he made it to the cell that one of them had picked out. Foxx, still unconscious, was laid out on one cot, and Missy sat on another - evidently Morris had carried Foxx and convinced Missy to take a bed as well. Starr was obviously steering J towards the third one, and despite his recent violently punctuated talking-to, he wasn't having any of it. He broke out of her grip, put a hand on the wall to steady himself, and made his way to a corner, leaning against the wall and sliding down until he had settled on the floor. Even with closed eyes he could just about feel three displeased stares coming in his direction.
It was Morris who spoke up. "Ladies get the beds."
"Yep," he agreed.
"You're one of them. Get up there."
There was a beat of silence. Oh man Morris was not doing this to him now, not when he was barely awake enough to think, never mind come up with a snappy response. J finally heaved a sigh of his own. "Morris, I'm only sayin' it once: take the cot." The authority of the statement was probably diminished when it was delivered by a guy sitting on the floor, but he didn't care.
"Nope. Ladies first."
Oh for the love of- "You got tazed, man," came the steadily weakening protest from the floor. "Take the damn cot."
"Been through worse and you need the sleep." J didn't even pick up on what Morris was doing until he felt the arm grip tight around his shoulders, and he'd already been lifted off the floor by the time he fully figured things out. "Wh- Morris!"" The last thing he wanted was Morris doing this to him: not here, not now, not in front of the Divas, not ever if he could swing it...but he didn't have enough left in him to struggle out of the strong grip, and there wasn't much he could do as the older Agent carted him to the open cot and left him on it.
Well that was humiliating.
And comfortable, he had to admit. Couldn't keep his eyes open. He managed one final soft noise - half snort, half laugh, because Starr hadn't been kidding about this two-way street thing - before he closed his eyes and simply collapsed into sleep.
~~*~~
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT FIC FFFFFF
I have this bit of headcanon about J where he feels like he needs to 1) take charge and 2) live up to Chieftain's example whenever Chieftain isn't around. At the moment, Chieftain's on another ship somewhere and push has really come to shove and watching two Agents go down in less than a minute was a hard blow to the part of J that makes him feel like he needs to step up. Poor guy needs a break.
~~*~~
Supposedly, a good day was a day when you learned something new. By that standard, J's day should have been fantastic.
Helping a recently-tazed and still-bleeding Morris carry an unconscious Foxx to the kid with the healing crystal while trying to ignore the pain coming from his own bullet wound, J was finding the "good day" standard a bit hard to believe.
He'd gotten the crystal from the kid - Larsa, pretty good guy, he'd have to remember that - and turned it on Foxx, using it to cleanse the tranquilizer from her system while Morris, Starr, and Missy looked on. Morris, who had to be verbally browbeaten to be convinced to go before the girls, was next, and by that time J had started to feel dizzy himself - not from his injury (a graze left by a bullet on the side of his neck), but from the sheer amount of energy needed to use the crystal. Against protestations from Morris (who could see and hear just how much he was wearing himself out), Starr (who threatened to cause some damage of her own if he didn't take it easy), and even Missy herself, he'd insisted on taking care of Missy next. It had taken his best Chieftain impersonation - a serious gaze and a calm, authoritative command - but Missy had raised her arm, letting him touch the crystal to the injection site and then lay his hand against it, willing the venom out of her system. He felt the crystal take its toll on him as it complied, and he'd barely had time to pass it off to Starr (whom he trusted to heal herself, as she had willpower and strength aplenty) before he collapsed against the wall, panting for breath. He closed his eyes and tried to get himself or at least his breathing under control, but after everything that had happened today control just wouldn't come. He'd exhausted himself completely; if it weren't for the wall, he wouldn't have even been standing at the moment.
But his team - what he could find of it, at least - was alright. That was what mattered.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he felt a cool touch on his neck, followed by warm pressure. He winced and opened one eye and there was Starr, crystal in hand, taking care of him the same way he'd taken care of everyone else. He managed a slight smile as the pain in his neck faded under her touch.
Then she slapped him across the face.
"What th- Starr!" he spluttered, more surprised than hurt and definitely more awake than he had been before.
She wasn't done with him yet. "When you're done being an idiot, let me know," she snapped, turning to give the crystal back to Larsa. All he could do was look after her, staring in mild shock.
Her expression had softened a bit by the time she returned, but J well knew it didn't mean he wasn't going to get slapped again. "Think 'm done," he managed.
"Good." She sighed. "You know you don't have to do this all yourself. It's a two-way street."
Okay, maybe he'd get out of this one without getting smacked again. "Yeah, I know," he admitted.
"Then quit acting like you don't." She socked him in the shoulder on the last word. Man, he was going to need the crystal again at this rate.
"Okay," he laughed, tired, and pushed himself off the wall, intending to find a cell for them to hole up and crash out in. Starr caught him before his legs gave out completely, and he managed an exhausted smile as she sighed again, rolled her eyes, and supported him anyway. Evidently he wasn't as awake as he'd originally thought.
With her help, he made it to the cell that one of them had picked out. Foxx, still unconscious, was laid out on one cot, and Missy sat on another - evidently Morris had carried Foxx and convinced Missy to take a bed as well. Starr was obviously steering J towards the third one, and despite his recent violently punctuated talking-to, he wasn't having any of it. He broke out of her grip, put a hand on the wall to steady himself, and made his way to a corner, leaning against the wall and sliding down until he had settled on the floor. Even with closed eyes he could just about feel three displeased stares coming in his direction.
It was Morris who spoke up. "Ladies get the beds."
"Yep," he agreed.
"You're one of them. Get up there."
There was a beat of silence. Oh man Morris was not doing this to him now, not when he was barely awake enough to think, never mind come up with a snappy response. J finally heaved a sigh of his own. "Morris, I'm only sayin' it once: take the cot." The authority of the statement was probably diminished when it was delivered by a guy sitting on the floor, but he didn't care.
"Nope. Ladies first."
Oh for the love of- "You got tazed, man," came the steadily weakening protest from the floor. "Take the damn cot."
"Been through worse and you need the sleep." J didn't even pick up on what Morris was doing until he felt the arm grip tight around his shoulders, and he'd already been lifted off the floor by the time he fully figured things out. "Wh- Morris!"" The last thing he wanted was Morris doing this to him: not here, not now, not in front of the Divas, not ever if he could swing it...but he didn't have enough left in him to struggle out of the strong grip, and there wasn't much he could do as the older Agent carted him to the open cot and left him on it.
Well that was humiliating.
And comfortable, he had to admit. Couldn't keep his eyes open. He managed one final soft noise - half snort, half laugh, because Starr hadn't been kidding about this two-way street thing - before he closed his eyes and simply collapsed into sleep.
~~*~~
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT FIC FFFFFF
I have this bit of headcanon about J where he feels like he needs to 1) take charge and 2) live up to Chieftain's example whenever Chieftain isn't around. At the moment, Chieftain's on another ship somewhere and push has really come to shove and watching two Agents go down in less than a minute was a hard blow to the part of J that makes him feel like he needs to step up. Poor guy needs a break.