lucetilogs | TERRACE Draft

I really was kidding about the tears thing okay, just don't leave me... Just breathe, okay?

[Terrifying didn't even begin to cover what he'd just gone through-- and that was likely twicefold for Jack, who sounded like he was in pain. Careful in rubbing his back, Eugene worked his way up to sitting, petting the back of Jack's head with one hand]

Jack, hey... listen to me and answer honest. Promise me?

[The clumsiness had him worried, worried about a multitude of things he didn't understand and didn't know if they'd go back to right or... or whatever, so he brought his hands up to hold Jack's face in an effort to help him focus.]

Where are you hurt and can you make it to the car? I don't want a joke, I want the truth.

[Words only make half-sense, like hearing them through water, and Jack's best effort at focusing his eyes on Eugene's face still wavers in and out of exhausted, drunken focus. He's still breathing hard and slightly uneven, and he turns his mouth into Eugene's hand after several seconds, shaking his head in silent denial.]

Dunno.

[Hell, he's tired. He's tired and everything hurts and he just wants to lay down with Eugene and sleep.]

[Never once in his life had he been so glad to hear a viable response to something he'd said, the hope being Jack was cognizant, and Eugene was latching onto that hard. The abrupt heaviness of Jack's body however-- was he... trying to lie down? He genuinely looked to be in pain, which brought him back to the fact he'd probably just been shocked-- or as close to electrocuted as one could get.]

Hey! No--nope! Jack. [Old habits died hard and he wasn't even sure if keeping Jack awake now was essential but he wasn't going to risk finding out if it wasn't. Using his sternest tone, he shook him a little, working to snap him out of it.]

Eyes on me. Stay awake. I know it hurts, but it'll be okay so long as you don't fall asleep.

[What Jack really needed was to get to their car, driven back to the medics, because belatedly he'd noticed the burn on Jack's arm and he thought he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Shifting to press his weight on his good side, Eugene wrapped an arm around Jack and worked to haul him up. The position precarious, he was fairly certain some of this strength wasn't really his, he was taking it out on loan with interest on adrenaline.

He'd pay it back later, right now he needed to get Jack into the car at least]

C'mon, up!

[There's a noise from Jack that might be a groan of discomfort or might be a mutter of 'wanker,' and he winces with the shake, curling further into himself and the shallow pain that lances into his chest with every movement. It keeps him awake, though - as much as his current state can be called something like wakefulness - and he tries to cooperate with Eugene's orders. It's the tone that does it. Eugene never uses that sort of tone unless things are honestly serious, and he squints his eyes open to watch as Eugene manhandles him around and starts pulling him up.

It drags a stab of irritation out of him, because he doesn't want to be on his feet. He wants to be on the ground with Eugene, where everything is warm and still and safe. He wants to rest, anywhere, just lay down and sleep.

But Eugene's determined, and he pushes his way to his feet clumsily, leaning heavily on Eugene as the world spins and threatens to pitch into blackness again. He buries his face in his neck, shuddering as his stomach threatens to rebel and feeling the confused impulse escape as another excruciating cough.]

Gene. Can't run like this. [They have to run, don't they? From . . . from something that wants to hurt them, to kill them. That's the shape of the world, he's briefly sure, though the thought comes curiously detached from the usual attendant fear.]

[Cranky or not, Eugene was going to haul Jack over to the car, come hell or high water. The sudden deadweight as Jack wavered nearly toppled him over-- his balance with his crutch was already spotty just for himself, but Jack's movement was unpredictable which made compensating all the more torublesome. Still, with a grunt of effort, they were both standing and making their way to the car.

We're not running, we have a car.

[Keeping up conversation at this juncture is good, and he's already working open the passenger side door before flopping Jack unceremoniously on the seat]

In the car, hurry up. Can't run, so we'll drive.

[To the medics-- so that they can tell him for certain just how much he's damaged his boyfriend. Moving as quickly as his wings and crutch will carry him he climbs into the driver's side and helps to haul Jack in if he can't manage on his own yet. And very distantly keeping panic at bay, oddly detached and just focusing on the movements instead of what was actually happening. He could break down later, now wasn't the time.]

[They move in a clumsy tumble of limbs and crutch, Jack trying to remember what even walking under his own power involves, let alone walking with Eugene. It's by some minor miracle that he finds himself deposited on the seat in a jolt that draws a grimace of pain from him, and he curls against Eugene weakly as he joins him, trying again to just close his eyes and go to sleep. When he's sleeping he doesn't care that his limbs aren't obeying him, or that the world's spinning in disconnected pieces, or that it hurts even to breathe.

And Eugene's here. That means things will be all right, he's sure.]

Hey, oi, Jack--

[Hastily shutting his door and inserting the keys, turning the engine over, he hauled Jack to an upright sitting position. Even if he was leaning heavily on him, he could use this angle to pat hard at his face to keep his wits about him]

If you fall asleep our marriage is over, you hear me?

[Not that he was in any way serious-- unless it did result in Jack's death, but he wasn't ready for that. Turning to look around them he hurriedly shifted into drive, tugging on Jack's ear in a way he was sure to be painful]

Ended. You will be sleeping on the couch in your dumb boxers alone and no bed in breakfast.

[They would still have these things, together, if Jack made it. The pounding of Eugene's heart was kicked into high gear, but part of him... was beginning to think maybe Jack might just pull through. He was resilient in all the right ways, this... wouldn't...be the exception...]

[Jack almost, almost manages to get to sleep, he's sure of it. Then Eugene is badgering his face and mumbling more of those talking-through-water words that Jack finds himself being dragged back up towards, until he breaks the surface in a start and a shiver and a vaguely air-hungry gasp that triggers another round of ragged coughing. There are tears in his eyes when he finally finishes, panting again, still uneven but a little stronger.]

M'not hungry. [He mutters thickly and without conviction, glancing tiredly up at Eugene. This is hardly the time to be talking about food, he thinks.]

Edited 2013-04-08 04:21 (UTC)

You're never not hungry.

[Those coughs were enough to leave him cringing, causing his heart rate to jump as Jack worked through them. They were a good sign, though, right? The kind that indicated he was breathing when he hadn't been-- full stop on that train of thought, eyes on the road.]

You can't possibly turn down my cooking, it's against the rules.

[No, now was the best time to talk about things that could potentially annoy Jack-- keep him awake and talking to him.]

So-- what's the last thing you remember? Please tell me it's when Loki stowed away and caught us making out.

[Jack's absolutely certain he's not hungry - if anything, he feels vaguely ill, and the jostling of the vehicle is not helping. How absolutely like Eugene to talk about food at the least appealing times.

He keeps talking, though he closes his eyes again, retreating that little bit from the pain and tingling numbness that's overtaken his body.]

No, dolt, that was . . . what, days ago. [Where had today left off - he has to think a moment before questioning uncertainly, too far gone to even be worried about how hard it is to conjure that memory.] Clint and Natasha, I guess . . .

Clint and Natasha? [Picture Eugene trying to throw back his memory to recall even that and feeling brief panic when he wasn't entirely sure if that actually occurred. Taking a moment to peer over Jack he tried to locate what injuries, if any, that he could actually see.]

Days ago, huh? So you're not feeling so good right now, yeah? Tell me what's the worst of it?

[He'd have him focus on the pain if necessary, if it kept Jack from drifting off and away from him... he'd do anything. He swore a little as he had to swerve to avoid toppling into a crater left behind by some explosion, holding onto Jack as though his life depended on it]

And when did you see Natasha? I've only heard of her, is she cute?

[If Eugene's talking is vaguely disconnected, Jack doesn't really notice enough to care. The only problem, as far as he's concerned, is that Eugene keeps asking so many questions, and putting together answers is annoying and difficult and tiring to even think about. Everything is lit up in various shades of hurting, and he doesn't know how to describe any of it. Natasha is pretty, he supposes, but the question is so much like teasing that he just gives a low chuff of a noise and curls into Eugene again, dimly hoping that he'll be allowed to nap now that Eugene's gotten his pestering and teasing out of the way. He is in love with such an annoying guy.]

Jack, I'm not kidding, stop trying to sleep!

[Fear was prompting him to sound angry, tugging on Jack's ear sharply enough to cause discomfort, but he really wasn't looking to hurt him further.

The ride hadn't been smooth, but Eugene hadn't been going for comfort over speed. So the gradual slowing that came wasn't something that he'd been anticipating. In fact, the spluttering sound from the engine briefly drew his attention away from Jack and he felt something sinking in his stomach.]

No. No, no, nonono don't do this...

[This was something he couldn't wrap his head around right now, though his answer was quickly solved when he saw the fuel gauge teetering under the E. They'd planned on refueling just after they got to the generator-- and the fuel was in the back where Jack would be able to reach easily for it and--

And he didn't have time as a luxury right now.]

You've got to be fucking kidding me. Jack? Sit up, dammit! C'mon, I need you to... to keep an eye out while I refuel, okay?

Edited 2013-04-27 21:10 (UTC)

Ow-

[It was more of a hiss than a word, but Jack straightened, opening his eyes and blinking in the light. They were stopping. They were stopping and Eugene still looked sort of freaked-out, and Jack thought in a dim, giggly corner of his mind Behold, Eugene Woods, Death of Automobiles. It seemed silly, in a distant and tired way. Eugene always breaking cars. Eugene cursing so much.]

God, you're in a temper today.

[He muttered as he sat up vaguely, still favouring his arm, movements slow and clumsy as he leaned back in the seat and looked up at Eugene with an oddly cogent 'well, get on with it' lift of his eyebrows.]

[The relief he felt when Jack sat up and responded was completely counter-intuitive, or maybe it would be for Jack. Eugene felt a little dizzy with the relief, even if he knew this wasn't the end of it.]

Yeah, just-- stay up, stay sitting up and don't sleep or I'll hit you.

[He couldn't sound completely angry, and the improvement gave him some confidence to let Jack out of his sight while he opened the back door and rifled through the footspace to find their petrol container. Haulign that out, he spared Jack one last glance before heading to refill the tank.

This in itself wasn't without some risk-- still out of range of anyone nearby and without much in the way of protection, they were sitting ducks like this. It was that which prompted him to lean his hip against the car as he poured the gas into it.]

[Silently, Jack turned his head and twisted a little, watching Eugene work. Any promises that Eugene would hit him were forgotten as he listened to the sound of the wind, the faint glug-glug-glug of the petrol leaving the can, the sound of his own breath moving roughly in his throat.

He had the dim impression that he was hurt, beyond the sharp stinging at the side of his forearm, beyond the way his chest ached and screamed with the terrible insult of simply breathing. His mouth tasted wrong, he was exhausted, he was stinging pins and needles over what felt like half of his skin.

But he had Eugene. And Eugene was the last thing to persist in his vision, when he relaxed and let himself rest.]

[Scanning the horizon after a quick peek at Jack, Eugene was straining to see if anything might be approaching through the nearby thicket of woods or if they'd come crashing through the trees above. At least they had the benefit of some cover, but that also meant he might not see their attackers, first. But finally, the petrol can was lighter than the plastic that it comprised of, and he quickly capped the tank.

Wasting no time, he tossed the can into the back seat and forcibly hauled himself up behind the wheel, slamming the door after him. It would all have been fine and good had it not just hit him hard when he realized Jack wasn't making a sound.

His blood turned icy when he looked over and saw his eyes shut, heart pounding too fast and the world feeling too light and bright.]

Jack?

[Catches himself speaking too softly before he leaned over and took hold of one shoulder, shaking him. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to have him alive and chattering only for a few minutes after that kind of shock, but a part of his mind was already preparing for the worst...]

Jack!

[Whatever part of Jack heard Eugene, it didn't reach deep enough to inspire him to open his eyes, even as the shake brought him heavily down against Eugene's shoulder. It wasn't anything terrible - just his name, just Eugene's voice, and then the warmth that he sighed and shifted into with a soft sound of relief.]

Jack Holden! [His voice cracked but he didn't care, not when everything in his world was condensing down into Jack and how his eyes weren't opening. Controlling his panic was hard when he'd already partly given in to the desire to do just that but he pressed his fingers to Jack's neck, feeling for a pulse there. It... may be his own mounting terror but it just wasn't like he remembered it being. Gripping Jack's face with both hands he spoke with his forehead pressed against him, a stern look covering up the fear threatening to boil over inside.]

Do not leave me here alone, do you hear me? I'm not letting you go...! Please don't--

[He felt too warm, but he brushed it off as his heart pounding faster than if he were terrified for his own life. Oddly, he felt an out of place calm settle over him, albeit briefly, before he turned back to the wheel and turned the engine. The best thing for Jack now was to get him to safety, to Adele or a medic or someone who knew more about this than he did.

One arm slung over Jack's shoulders he tugged him close, driving with one hand on the wheel. There was a tremble in his arm, but a very determined drive in him, despite that. To focus on getting to help before it was too late. And if Jack did... die before he got to help, at least he... he wouldn't be alone. At least he tried his best... But with Zevran already gone, Eugene felt incredibly numb at this prospect.]

If you ever listen to me please just listen to me this one time... Don't die, Jack...

Edited 2013-05-06 04:23 (UTC)

[Everything was moving too much.

That was the first impression Jack had, after he couldn't say how long of drifting on the far side of unconsciousness, swaddled in the dim softness of the world blurred into vague and basic shapes. When he woke, the world seemed louder, uncomfortably brighter - and unspeakably more painful, every part of his body singing a different discordant note as they bumped and juttered along. He added an audible component to that symphony without intending to, a long groan muffled into Eugene's shoulder as he stretched and almost immediately gasped with the answering stab right to his breastbone.

The gasp, predictably, did not help, and he whined out a soft keen that tangled at the edges with a drunken oh bloody hell, reaching up to grasp Eugene's shirt and bury his face harder against him.]

[Moving, Jack was moving and he was moving on his own and he was okay-- or at least functioning enough that he was making sounds, too. The lurch when he stopped was nearly full on-- strong arms managing to keep Jack from toppling into the footrest below. The hug he gave him was brief, tight, and entirely necessary, though perhaps a bit painful for Jack]

Thank god you listened, dammit just don't-- Don't fall asleep.

[Pulling back a ways, he tried to catch Jack's attention, looking him over and trying to get a proper look at his eyes. The belated realization that stopping here wouldn't do either of them any good had him putting their vehicle back into drive, however, resuming pace when that odd, calming sensation filtered through the panic.]

Wh-what's wrong?

[The hard jerk drew another strangled noise from Jack, albeit a much less garbled and more coherent one, a sharp ngh-! of pain. But it was matched by a weak but undeniably present tensing of shoulders, a quivery hand tightening in Eugene's shirt to help brace him against the threat of falling. Lingeringly confused, he blinked up, into the sky-brightness and the dismaying sight of Eugene looking as harried and shattered as he'd ever seen him. He tried to straighten, wincing but keeping his gaze on Eugene.]

Aah, just- hurts. [The supporting arm is still appreciated, and he hisses through his teeth as he settles, frowning up at Eugene in perturbed bewilderment.] . . . are you crying?

I'm allergic to you, you doofus.

[Relief did flood through him when Jack asked something that would require recognition-- paying attention instead of simply responding to stimuli. The hurting... it would keep Jack from sleeping, or falling into a slumber, or so he hoped. And hope right now was a painful, but very compelling motivator.

Averting his face to the road with a small amount of shame, he focused on driving, recognizing the landscape and estimating they'd be near Adele or some form of help very shortly.]

Where's it hurt? Be specific, don't give me this all over whining.

Ow, fine. Be that way.

[Still half-tense with pain, he went back to burying half of his face against Eugene's shoulder, turning to the unwelcome task of actually focusing on the pain in order to say where it was. He tried to make his words minimal, helpful, swallowing back the throbbing, burning sensation as it flared with a draft of wind against angry nerves.]

Right arm. Right foot, a bit. And . . . I don't know. Like someone knocked me down and started kicking.

[The world was settling into place bit by bit, and he found more and more recent memories filtering in with dim recognition of their surroundings. They were supposed to be . . . working on a machine? Right, a generator, but not one of the ones from Abel. They were in Luceti and on a draft, had been for several days. That was it, the vague shape of it, though he found himself reaching for and mysteriously failing to grasp anything more specific.]

Did- did we finish the job yet?

The job is over, Jack.

[He's not arguing this either, staunchly stubborn in his decision. Especially considering that he isn't sure the extent of the damage, and that's what was eating him the most inside. The guilt at having been so cocky to think Jack would always be fine, that he was invincible, even when he knew just how human he really is.]

S-sorry about the chest thing, but I wasn't kicking you. You weren't breathing, I was... well. They made sure we all knew CPR so.

[Now they were nearing the medical facilities, passing a few draftees on the way and leaving them in his dust. He wasn't too keen on stopping right now, priorities of his firmly in place. He was a journalist, not a soldier, there wasn't any room to doubt his motivations.

Putting it in park, he turned to Jack and dragged him in close for a brief but sound kiss before turning and opening his door]

That's the only mouth to mouth I want to be giving you from now on.

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