doing something

[unbr8kable]

Who: some kids
Where: the dead zone
When: Day 335, after graduation

[After many a tiny finger food and many more tiny glasses of wine and one overblown and completely not sad at all!!! graduation ceremony, what better place to go than the dead zone? What better thing to do than climb up the giant, golden chain up to the crack in the sky? Sure it burns to the touch, but what's a little more pain on the pile--that's the point of all those tiny glasses of wine, right?

So never mind the slight sizzling sound, nor the uncomfortably familiar odor of burning flesh all the way up. There's a goal at the end; one that--in theory--will make this all worthwhile]

Comments

[unbr8kable]

[The pain doesn't ease as flames gobble up what she's been given to lick at the disappointing remains; she knows for certain what's left is no better than the rot that's already been burned away and letting it go would be doing the world a favor.

There is only one worthwhile thing to hold onto, and her fingers spasm against his, involuntary, as her chest burns hot and tight]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[It burns and it burns, edging closer to the center - to the place where his sense of self is stored]

[What remains of him is battered, now - diminished - worth less than it was when he awoke in this place fresh and new and eager. It's worth less, even, than the last time he did this, shattered but recovering, putting one foot in from of the next with every scrap of strength he had]

[What's left is smaller, now; that light at the center of him, bright and steady, has dimmed. It hasn't gone out, yet, but it takes him a long moment to find it - to think of a reason why it shouldn't just be washed away with all the rest]

[The reason is holding his hand right now; the pressure of her fingers against his palm is a reminder that there's something left he wanted to be here for, after all]

[unbr8kable]

[Her fingers go lax, and for a while all is finally still and quiet.]







[Abruptly she surfaces, gasping for breath; casting around as if disoriented]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He's not long behind, hair plastered to his forehead and water streaming down his face, coughing and gasping for breath]

[unbr8kable]

[Another few mindless beats, then she tugs at their joined hands, pulling him closer to see if he's okay]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[His arms come up around her, shaky- uncertain at first, and then tighter]

[unbr8kable]

[She winds her arms around him just the same, squeezing him close to see if he's okay--if he's warm]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He is warm, for once - warmer than he's been in a long, long time]

[He holds on to her tight, trembling more than a little]

[unbr8kable]

[Oh]

[Oh]

[She raises her good hand up to his face--to his neck, to check]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[It's there again, finally - the rhythm of his heart, faint and too-quick, thrumming there beneath the skin]

[unbr8kable]

[Oh.]

[Her knees wobble, and her lower lip, and she sucks in a breath more tremble than air.

It's a little awkward since she can't quite force herself to move her fingers from his pulse point but she does her best to squeeze him closer nonetheless]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He goes readily - goes eagerly, pressing in against her, fingers curling in to cling to the fabric of her jacket]

[His breath, against the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, is shaky and uneven, hitching in a suspicious way]

[unbr8kable]

[She is no better, unable to manage much more than damp breaths and pressing cool fingers into the uncertain trip of his pulse. Finally--

--Finally. Finally.]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[If they're both wet already, surely she won't notice that her shoulder is becoming a little more damp]

[Surely,]

[unbr8kable]

[Perhaps he won't notice her just weeping against him. Too much has happened in too little time to even pretend to have some sort of self-control, sorry]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[Oh]

[Well]

[There goes the rest of his self-control]

[If she is outright crying, he never stood a chance. The unsteady breathing becomes a lot more like hitching sobs in a remarkably short amount of time]

[unbr8kable]

[Sorry friend, it has been a very long day and month and year and she's thought about this for a very long time--thought it wouldn't ever happen for a very long time, and now that it has there isn't much else she can do. At least she is quiet??]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He is not,]

[Hopefully no passing geometry can hear,,,]

[unbr8kable]

[So long as she lands on the bottom when they're tossed back downstairs it's fine]




[Either way, a decent while later she can at least gather him in enough to properly stroke over his back, even as she continues sniffling herself]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[By this point, his forehead is resting on her shoulder. The hitching of his chest is slower now, but still unsteady]

[His face is very warm, where it's pressed up against her, and that hasn't been true for a very, very long time]

[unbr8kable]

[Her breathing doesn't smooth out either; her own pulse thuds in her chest, quick and for the first time in forever, not alone]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[His breathing doesn't even out, not entirely - but eventually he pulls back just a little, just enough to press a soft kiss to her neck]

[unbr8kable]

[She whimpers, breath catching, and squeezes him as if she can't bear to let him get any further]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He doesn't seem to want to get any further - doesn't seem to want anything but this]

[unbr8kable]

[Well, he has it now. And from how tightly she burrows into him she has no reason to change that]