arrival (closed to Curtis)
Sep. 15th, 2014 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The pain wasn't bad, not really. As he'd trained, he'd been hurt a lot, muscles and joints bruised and bones nearly broken. He's used to pain. This - this pain he felt now - was nothing new, not really. It was just more final and Grey knew it. Since Gilliam was dead, this - death - was nearly a relief. He'd done what he could to help Curtis, to avenge Gilliam's death. Nothing more could be done. As he felt the knife press into his chest, he sank into oblivion.
Only to wake up with a start at the train seeming to have stopped. He was on the floor, of course. The pain woke up a second later and he hissed out between clenched teeth. He pulled and realized that the knife was still lodged through his right hand. That hand throbbed and his entire body felt as if he had been been through too much, worse than any training session. His left hand hung from his wrist uselessly. He forced his eyes open and stared at the ceiling of the steam car of the train.
Where was the old man in the suit?, he suddenly wondered, the one who had been fighting him? Grey's vigilance forced him to sitting, ready for more fighting despite the pain. He pushed the knife from his hand and held it, even if the pain seared through his palm, his left hand still hung loosely; the wrist was broken. It didn't mattier. Surely, if the train had stopped, he must be ready for anything. He pushed to his feet and forward in the train, it not yet occurring to him to go outside the car. After all, wasn't the world still frozen?
Only to wake up with a start at the train seeming to have stopped. He was on the floor, of course. The pain woke up a second later and he hissed out between clenched teeth. He pulled and realized that the knife was still lodged through his right hand. That hand throbbed and his entire body felt as if he had been been through too much, worse than any training session. His left hand hung from his wrist uselessly. He forced his eyes open and stared at the ceiling of the steam car of the train.
Where was the old man in the suit?, he suddenly wondered, the one who had been fighting him? Grey's vigilance forced him to sitting, ready for more fighting despite the pain. He pushed the knife from his hand and held it, even if the pain seared through his palm, his left hand still hung loosely; the wrist was broken. It didn't mattier. Surely, if the train had stopped, he must be ready for anything. He pushed to his feet and forward in the train, it not yet occurring to him to go outside the car. After all, wasn't the world still frozen?
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Date: 2014-09-29 01:39 am (UTC)His eyes cutting away, Curtis muttered, "I'm gonna step out. I'll be right back."
Pushing through the curtains, he stopped in the hall and dragged one hand-- his only hand, over his face and let out a shuddering breath. What the fuck was he gonna say to this kid? About any of it? About Gilliam.
Was it really a truth that needed knowing? Was it the truth at all?
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Date: 2014-09-29 01:42 am (UTC)As she worked, Grey kept his gaze on the break in the curtains, waiting for Curtis to get back.
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Date: 2014-10-02 04:41 am (UTC)When he swept back inside, she was carefully going down a list of instructions, handing over a couple of prescriptions the doctor had written. An antibiotic and a painkiller. Her eyes flickered to Curtis, uncertain.
"I'll get 'em filled," he said, leaning in to take the slips of paper.
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Date: 2014-10-02 11:25 am (UTC)