The day had dawned breezy and a little damp, inclement weather appearing in swift-moving patches that lingered over the island just long enough to make spending much time outdoors a gamble. I'd actually remembered to carry an umbrella with me for most of the day, although I couldn't say exactly what I was trying to protect-My perfectly-coiffed hair? My expensive couture? Hardly.
I didn't see him appear, and that was perhaps part of why I was so thrown. A gust of wind had shot down the thin break in the trees over the boardwalk and nearly lifted the open umbrella from my unsuspecting hands; yelping, I'd scrambled to catch it, and that had been when the screaming had begun.
A gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sound, a sound not like death but of dying, like an animal in a trap. My head snapped up, eyes wide with an instinctual fear, and despite knowing better, I faltered, my body reacting in ways my head couldn't get around without a little push.
Blue. His skin was so bluePrecious seconds lost, I launched forward, throwing up damp earth
( ... )
The pain almost clears his mind, as though the ice is beginning to melt in his veins, and he takes in a deep breath, the air burning through his lungs. He feels warmer somehow, as though he were standing under the heat lamps in the greenhouses, but those are gone. Warmth is gone. Icarus had been nothing but cold and darkness before he closed his eyes for what he'd believed would be the last time.
The woman isn't Cassie and she isn't Corazon, and she's beautifulBut she disappears with a promise to be back and all Mace can do is let out a keening noise in protest and clench his teeth, lips pressed tightly together when he screams again, this time in small, sharp bursts he feels deep in his lungs. He lets out a heavy breath when the pain passes, feeling as though it takes everything he has just to do that, and when he opens his eyes again the world is blurry and bright and something darkens his vision as it passes by
( ... )
I went for the laundry room. I know that probably sounds crazy, but hear me out: Very few linens were kept in the clinic, and we were going to need blankets. The ruckus of my tearing down the hall was enough to alert anyone in the Compound's front rooms that something was wrong, but beyond that, I knew exactly what was needed and where to find it. Even now, I can't believe that I didn't fall and break my neck on those stairs, but it took me maybe thirty seconds, all told
( ... )
It almost hurts when she comes back; within seconds Mace goes from relief to confusion to pain. This is the second time in twenty-four hours someone has had to cover him in blankets and warm him up, and it hurts just as much as the first time did.
But he's grateful.
He doesn't understand where he is, or how he got here, or if he's trapped in the hologram room. He doesn't understand where this woman came from, the first new face he's seen in over sixteen months. He doesn't understand, but accepting it is all he can do.
A shift in the blanket exposes his hand again, and when she moves it close enough, Mace manages to catch her wrist in a weak grip.
Comments 35
I didn't see him appear, and that was perhaps part of why I was so thrown. A gust of wind had shot down the thin break in the trees over the boardwalk and nearly lifted the open umbrella from my unsuspecting hands; yelping, I'd scrambled to catch it, and that had been when the screaming had begun.
A gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sound, a sound not like death but of dying, like an animal in a trap. My head snapped up, eyes wide with an instinctual fear, and despite knowing better, I faltered, my body reacting in ways my head couldn't get around without a little push.
Blue. His skin was so bluePrecious seconds lost, I launched forward, throwing up damp earth ( ... )
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The pain almost clears his mind, as though the ice is beginning to melt in his veins, and he takes in a deep breath, the air burning through his lungs. He feels warmer somehow, as though he were standing under the heat lamps in the greenhouses, but those are gone. Warmth is gone. Icarus had been nothing but cold and darkness before he closed his eyes for what he'd believed would be the last time.
The woman isn't Cassie and she isn't Corazon, and she's beautifulBut she disappears with a promise to be back and all Mace can do is let out a keening noise in protest and clench his teeth, lips pressed tightly together when he screams again, this time in small, sharp bursts he feels deep in his lungs. He lets out a heavy breath when the pain passes, feeling as though it takes everything he has just to do that, and when he opens his eyes again the world is blurry and bright and something darkens his vision as it passes by ( ... )
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But he's grateful.
He doesn't understand where he is, or how he got here, or if he's trapped in the hologram room. He doesn't understand where this woman came from, the first new face he's seen in over sixteen months. He doesn't understand, but accepting it is all he can do.
A shift in the blanket exposes his hand again, and when she moves it close enough, Mace manages to catch her wrist in a weak grip.
"Th-thank you," he says, forcing the words out.
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