cliosfolly
in
gw500
[Fic] GW500 prompt -- Dawn
Title: Burnout (a companion piece to The Trouble With Memorials)
Author: cliosfolly (Merellia)
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Spoilers: End of EW-ish.
He was exhausted with a severity that weighed him down in every limb. Twitching his arm to verify the presence of an i.v. would have left him gasping from the effort, if it hadn't been that starting to do so had left him too tired to go on. His thoughts felt slow, disconnected. He had forced himself to catalogue all the items in his room, appalled to notice by the faintly glowing display on the monitor that minutes passed between recognizing one item and moving on to the next.
Stubbornly, in his brief periods of wakefulness through--one night? Several? He analyzed the objects for how they might be of aid in an escape. The cardiogram monitor would be the last to go . . . no sense in disconnecting from that precipitously when it would set off alarms . . . but the first to use, for it was of the perfect size to roll into someone. Staring at the dark ceiling, the features of the room barely visible in the light cast through the open doorway, Heero contemplated hacking the monitor to fake a heart-rhythm. Or. There was more--if he-- He grasped after thoughts that wanted to slide away into the darkness. Its connection to the hospital network. He could view his records, nurse and security schedules.
Slowly, accomplishing it in small, painful hitches, he took a deep breath, eyes closing on the exhale. He could modify the multiplexing unit in one of the sensors to transmit on a different frequency, which would give him access to the monitor's software, only his tools--were where? Had they. . . . The shrilling of yet another alarm from the ward outside his room distracted him, his thoughts subsiding in a slow wash. A rush of footsteps followed the alarm, along with a babble of voices he couldn't make himself distinguish. Through it, though, another set of footsteps approached, brisk until they stopped at his own room's door.
A doctor . . . was his chart outside the door? He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. Another breath, two, three, and the footsteps approached his bed more quietly. Cloth rustled, a body settling into the bedside chair. Not a doctor, then. He turned his head towards the sound, easier to let cheek fall to pillow than to open his eyes.
His visitor remained silent. Probably assumed that he was sleeping. He wasn't. He was just so tired. He took a shallow breath. Another. Stale sweat. Another pilot, then, probably. It reminded him . . . he could remember shooting Mariemaia. Shooting, but not shooting. Putting an end to things. That meant that--it was so hard to think. There was peace to protect. More than that. He didn't--he wasn't--
It was hard, but he managed to open his eyes a little, eyelashes a blur in his vision. The pale light of dawn that crept through the edges of the room window traced the curve of cheekbone, the rumple of bangs, and the hallway light brightened the rest of his visitor's face. "Hey, Heero," Duo said, leaning forward with the beginnings of a smile.
Heero closed his eyes.
Author: cliosfolly (Merellia)
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Spoilers: End of EW-ish.
He was exhausted with a severity that weighed him down in every limb. Twitching his arm to verify the presence of an i.v. would have left him gasping from the effort, if it hadn't been that starting to do so had left him too tired to go on. His thoughts felt slow, disconnected. He had forced himself to catalogue all the items in his room, appalled to notice by the faintly glowing display on the monitor that minutes passed between recognizing one item and moving on to the next.
Stubbornly, in his brief periods of wakefulness through--one night? Several? He analyzed the objects for how they might be of aid in an escape. The cardiogram monitor would be the last to go . . . no sense in disconnecting from that precipitously when it would set off alarms . . . but the first to use, for it was of the perfect size to roll into someone. Staring at the dark ceiling, the features of the room barely visible in the light cast through the open doorway, Heero contemplated hacking the monitor to fake a heart-rhythm. Or. There was more--if he-- He grasped after thoughts that wanted to slide away into the darkness. Its connection to the hospital network. He could view his records, nurse and security schedules.
Slowly, accomplishing it in small, painful hitches, he took a deep breath, eyes closing on the exhale. He could modify the multiplexing unit in one of the sensors to transmit on a different frequency, which would give him access to the monitor's software, only his tools--were where? Had they. . . . The shrilling of yet another alarm from the ward outside his room distracted him, his thoughts subsiding in a slow wash. A rush of footsteps followed the alarm, along with a babble of voices he couldn't make himself distinguish. Through it, though, another set of footsteps approached, brisk until they stopped at his own room's door.
A doctor . . . was his chart outside the door? He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. Another breath, two, three, and the footsteps approached his bed more quietly. Cloth rustled, a body settling into the bedside chair. Not a doctor, then. He turned his head towards the sound, easier to let cheek fall to pillow than to open his eyes.
His visitor remained silent. Probably assumed that he was sleeping. He wasn't. He was just so tired. He took a shallow breath. Another. Stale sweat. Another pilot, then, probably. It reminded him . . . he could remember shooting Mariemaia. Shooting, but not shooting. Putting an end to things. That meant that--it was so hard to think. There was peace to protect. More than that. He didn't--he wasn't--
It was hard, but he managed to open his eyes a little, eyelashes a blur in his vision. The pale light of dawn that crept through the edges of the room window traced the curve of cheekbone, the rumple of bangs, and the hallway light brightened the rest of his visitor's face. "Hey, Heero," Duo said, leaning forward with the beginnings of a smile.
Heero closed his eyes.