Fic challenge - chapter 17 - 'Great'
*sniff* My last chapter, everyone!
Chapter number: 17
Chapter theme: Great
Word count: 1205
Warnings: Some swearing and quite a bit of angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line, Brad Sherwood or Ryan Stiles. Not making any money from this.
A/N: Thanks a LOT, Empress…
-----
“Hello, I’m Doctor Matthews, Mister Proops’s doctor,” he waited patiently for someone to acknowledge him. His eyes swept the room.
The patient’s partner, Drew, was pale and shaking, chanting like a mantra, “This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening…this simply is not happening…” The balding man was embracing him in a one-armed hug. Tears were clinging to his nose, occasionally dripping onto his arm, but his words of comfort were strong and meaningful; this obviously wasn’t the first time he’d had to placate a friend in a time of hardship. His other hand was squeezing the knee of another, darker man, who looked on the verge of a breakdown. He was sitting on the windowsill, his feet propped on the seat that the balding man was sitting on, rocking back and forth, chewing his fingernails, his cheeks glistening with tears that just wouldn’t stop. The other two men looked shell-shocked, particularly the slightly shorter one. Young and fairly fresh-faced, he maybe hadn’t experienced death, or the prospect of it, much before. The other, very tall man seemed a little less shocked, though whether that was through experience or denial was yet to be seen. He had his eyes locked with the doctor’s.
“Greg’s condition is stable," Doctor Matthews continued, directing his speech at Ryan but speaking loudly enough for them all to hear, "He has second-degree burns on his left arm and left leg which, as you can see, have been bandaged up. We also have him hooked up to an IV that will provide him with constant hydration, as well as pain killers and antibiotics. There don’t seem to be any signs of shock or trauma."
Drew tore his red and swollen eyes away from Greg to face the doctor, "Well...w-what does all that mean? Is he doing okay?"
The doctor smiled warmly, "He's doing great. His burns are already showing signs of improvement and the cut on his forehead will heal in no time. He should be outta here in less than three weeks, as long as there are no further complications."
His last words were drowned out by a collective sigh of relief. Drew and Wayne broke down into hysterical sobs, Colin laughed and muttered, "Thank God, thank God!" and Ryan pulled Brad into a tearful hug.
Doctor Matthews slipped out quietly.
The mini celebration continued for a few moments more before Brad couldn't hold back the question that had been building inside him, "What happened?"
Drew froze for a moment, looked at Greg and burst into a fresh set of tears. Colin rubbed his back and shushed him, "Drew, it wasn't your fault!"
"It WAS!" Drew cried, "It WAS my fault! I left the damn thing on! I sent him in there, and I left him there!"
He took a deep shuddering breath and looked into the curious eyes of Ryan and Brad.
"I was making breakfast..."
-----
"Mmm, smells good."
Drew smiled at his lover's words as he stirred the eggs in the pan and leant into Greg's embrace, "So do you."
Their usual early morning banter got a little dirtier than usual, and ended up with them discarding breakfast and going back to bed.
"Ooh, Mister Carey!" Greg cooed as Drew nuzzled between Greg's shoulder and neck to leave a trail of kisses across his skin. Greg's hands slipped up Drew's t-shirt and roamed his chest; his fingers lightly and briefly traced across the nipple ring he always pretended to be grossed out by, but secretly made him a little hot. He retracted from Drew so he could reach up and press their lips together, a soft graze at first, which soon turned into a heated and thrashing competition of who could get their tongue furthest down the other's throat.
Drew's fingers whispered gently over the buttons on Greg's lilac shirt before he undid the top three. Greg wrapped his hand around Drew's wrist, "Easy, tiger. I think I see where this is going, now let's think with the top half for a second - do we have protection?"
Drew frowned, "In the kitchen."
Greg sighed, "Great..." he pecked Drew lightly on the cheek, "Back in a mo."
Drew let Greg up and Greg practically sprinted the distance between the bed and the door.
Drew lay on his back, his arms folded behind his head, a dopey grin on his face. The business between Brad and Ryan had made him realise how well things were going with Greg and himself. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of blood rushing to his groin as he thought of Greg.
He was abruptly awoken from his reverie by the sound of breaking glass and a piercing scream.
"GREG!?" He leapt from the bed, over to the door and pelted down the stairs.
He paled as he surveyed the scene in his kitchen. Flames towered by the oven and tickled the ceiling. Thick, black, heavy smoke canvassed the areas that weren't red with fire. Blazing heat pushed down on him.
"GREG!" Drew screamed.
"Drew, get the fuck out!" Greg's disembodied voice yelled back.
Drew glanced behind him then back again, "Not without you!"
A wave of fire billowed from the direction of the fridge, another sound of broken glass and Greg started coughing and choking, "Drew, I can't fucking see to get out! Just GO!"
Drew gritted his teeth and made to delve into the smoke and save his boyfriend, but the flaming dining table toppled over and blocked his path, "Fuck..."
"Drew!" Greg's voice was strained and hoarse, "GET OUT!"
Drew hesitated for a moment. Sweat was dripping off him and the stench of smoke was suffocating him. How the hell was he supposed to think clearly at a time like this?
Finally, he dashed away, back to the bedroom so he could swipe his cell phone from the nightstand. He opened the window and clambered onto the fire escape. Only now was the situation being fully realised in his head; the fire alarm rang clear in his head, the screams from the neighbourhood, the distant wail of the fire trucks. He scrambled down the fire escape, punching numbers into his cell as he went; his feet hadn't even touched the ground before he was ordering an ambulance to his house.
"Drew, you okay?" one of his neighbours asked.
Drew didn't reply. Instead he went to the speed-dial on his phone and called the first name he came across.
-----
"...Colin told me not to panic, and...well, then it's just a blur."
Silence weighed the room down.
"Jesus Christ..." Ryan mumbled, "he's damn lucky to come out of that with just a few burns and a graze."
"Someone must really want you two to be together," Brad said with twinkling eyes.
Drew sniffed and scooped Greg's hand up in his, "I know I do..."
"Me too," everyone else echoed.
The scene was quiet for a while.
Colin extended a hand to the man behind him. Wayne took it and slid down into the seat next to him, leaving a small kiss on his lips.
"You okay?" Colin asked.
Wayne wrapped Colin's arm around his shoulders, "I think so."
Ryan reached over and entwined his fingers in Brad's, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss into his temple. Brad leaned his head into Ryan's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist as Ryan enveloped his shoulders and whispered, "Life's too short for this shit, Brad. I really care about you. And this could be something great."
.x.Sess.x.
Chapter number: 17
Chapter theme: Great
Word count: 1205
Warnings: Some swearing and quite a bit of angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line, Brad Sherwood or Ryan Stiles. Not making any money from this.
A/N: Thanks a LOT, Empress…
-----
“Hello, I’m Doctor Matthews, Mister Proops’s doctor,” he waited patiently for someone to acknowledge him. His eyes swept the room.
The patient’s partner, Drew, was pale and shaking, chanting like a mantra, “This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening…this simply is not happening…” The balding man was embracing him in a one-armed hug. Tears were clinging to his nose, occasionally dripping onto his arm, but his words of comfort were strong and meaningful; this obviously wasn’t the first time he’d had to placate a friend in a time of hardship. His other hand was squeezing the knee of another, darker man, who looked on the verge of a breakdown. He was sitting on the windowsill, his feet propped on the seat that the balding man was sitting on, rocking back and forth, chewing his fingernails, his cheeks glistening with tears that just wouldn’t stop. The other two men looked shell-shocked, particularly the slightly shorter one. Young and fairly fresh-faced, he maybe hadn’t experienced death, or the prospect of it, much before. The other, very tall man seemed a little less shocked, though whether that was through experience or denial was yet to be seen. He had his eyes locked with the doctor’s.
“Greg’s condition is stable," Doctor Matthews continued, directing his speech at Ryan but speaking loudly enough for them all to hear, "He has second-degree burns on his left arm and left leg which, as you can see, have been bandaged up. We also have him hooked up to an IV that will provide him with constant hydration, as well as pain killers and antibiotics. There don’t seem to be any signs of shock or trauma."
Drew tore his red and swollen eyes away from Greg to face the doctor, "Well...w-what does all that mean? Is he doing okay?"
The doctor smiled warmly, "He's doing great. His burns are already showing signs of improvement and the cut on his forehead will heal in no time. He should be outta here in less than three weeks, as long as there are no further complications."
His last words were drowned out by a collective sigh of relief. Drew and Wayne broke down into hysterical sobs, Colin laughed and muttered, "Thank God, thank God!" and Ryan pulled Brad into a tearful hug.
Doctor Matthews slipped out quietly.
The mini celebration continued for a few moments more before Brad couldn't hold back the question that had been building inside him, "What happened?"
Drew froze for a moment, looked at Greg and burst into a fresh set of tears. Colin rubbed his back and shushed him, "Drew, it wasn't your fault!"
"It WAS!" Drew cried, "It WAS my fault! I left the damn thing on! I sent him in there, and I left him there!"
He took a deep shuddering breath and looked into the curious eyes of Ryan and Brad.
"I was making breakfast..."
-----
"Mmm, smells good."
Drew smiled at his lover's words as he stirred the eggs in the pan and leant into Greg's embrace, "So do you."
Their usual early morning banter got a little dirtier than usual, and ended up with them discarding breakfast and going back to bed.
"Ooh, Mister Carey!" Greg cooed as Drew nuzzled between Greg's shoulder and neck to leave a trail of kisses across his skin. Greg's hands slipped up Drew's t-shirt and roamed his chest; his fingers lightly and briefly traced across the nipple ring he always pretended to be grossed out by, but secretly made him a little hot. He retracted from Drew so he could reach up and press their lips together, a soft graze at first, which soon turned into a heated and thrashing competition of who could get their tongue furthest down the other's throat.
Drew's fingers whispered gently over the buttons on Greg's lilac shirt before he undid the top three. Greg wrapped his hand around Drew's wrist, "Easy, tiger. I think I see where this is going, now let's think with the top half for a second - do we have protection?"
Drew frowned, "In the kitchen."
Greg sighed, "Great..." he pecked Drew lightly on the cheek, "Back in a mo."
Drew let Greg up and Greg practically sprinted the distance between the bed and the door.
Drew lay on his back, his arms folded behind his head, a dopey grin on his face. The business between Brad and Ryan had made him realise how well things were going with Greg and himself. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of blood rushing to his groin as he thought of Greg.
He was abruptly awoken from his reverie by the sound of breaking glass and a piercing scream.
"GREG!?" He leapt from the bed, over to the door and pelted down the stairs.
He paled as he surveyed the scene in his kitchen. Flames towered by the oven and tickled the ceiling. Thick, black, heavy smoke canvassed the areas that weren't red with fire. Blazing heat pushed down on him.
"GREG!" Drew screamed.
"Drew, get the fuck out!" Greg's disembodied voice yelled back.
Drew glanced behind him then back again, "Not without you!"
A wave of fire billowed from the direction of the fridge, another sound of broken glass and Greg started coughing and choking, "Drew, I can't fucking see to get out! Just GO!"
Drew gritted his teeth and made to delve into the smoke and save his boyfriend, but the flaming dining table toppled over and blocked his path, "Fuck..."
"Drew!" Greg's voice was strained and hoarse, "GET OUT!"
Drew hesitated for a moment. Sweat was dripping off him and the stench of smoke was suffocating him. How the hell was he supposed to think clearly at a time like this?
Finally, he dashed away, back to the bedroom so he could swipe his cell phone from the nightstand. He opened the window and clambered onto the fire escape. Only now was the situation being fully realised in his head; the fire alarm rang clear in his head, the screams from the neighbourhood, the distant wail of the fire trucks. He scrambled down the fire escape, punching numbers into his cell as he went; his feet hadn't even touched the ground before he was ordering an ambulance to his house.
"Drew, you okay?" one of his neighbours asked.
Drew didn't reply. Instead he went to the speed-dial on his phone and called the first name he came across.
-----
"...Colin told me not to panic, and...well, then it's just a blur."
Silence weighed the room down.
"Jesus Christ..." Ryan mumbled, "he's damn lucky to come out of that with just a few burns and a graze."
"Someone must really want you two to be together," Brad said with twinkling eyes.
Drew sniffed and scooped Greg's hand up in his, "I know I do..."
"Me too," everyone else echoed.
The scene was quiet for a while.
Colin extended a hand to the man behind him. Wayne took it and slid down into the seat next to him, leaving a small kiss on his lips.
"You okay?" Colin asked.
Wayne wrapped Colin's arm around his shoulders, "I think so."
Ryan reached over and entwined his fingers in Brad's, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss into his temple. Brad leaned his head into Ryan's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist as Ryan enveloped his shoulders and whispered, "Life's too short for this shit, Brad. I really care about you. And this could be something great."
.x.Sess.x.