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ice cream ([personal profile] bluedreaming) wrote in [community profile] writetomyheart2015-11-18 11:59 pm

[team sonic] knee deep in trouble // be afraid (2)

knee deep in trouble
First words from It's show time.
Title from Until the ribbon breaks by Pressure



“Time to go,” Jaebum says, poking his head into the berth where BamBam is sleeping. He wakes with a jerk, arms flailing as gravity shifts, reorients itself.

“I hate you,” BamBam says, but he doesn’t really mean it, just grumbling as his stomach sloshes up and down; Jaebum merely shrugs, turning away back towards the bridge.

“You can hate me all the want but please do your hating on the bridge while you oversee docking,” he says, voice trailing away down the hall. BamBam sticks out his tongue, a pointless exercise since there’s no one to see, but it makes him feel better anyway. He slides off the bunk and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth as the acid crawls up his throat.

"Shit," he mumbles, curling his fingers into the soft skin of his palms, letting the sharp pain of his ragged fingernails bite into the skin, distracting him from the nausea as he stumbles down the hallway.

"You look terrible," Jaebum says, eyes flicking over to BamBam, standing in the doorway. BamBam doesn't dare take his hand away from his mouth, shrugging as he practically throws himself at his chair and taps in the key sequence to check on the automated landing gear.

The keys are tacky; it takes him a moment to realize that his palm is bleeding, red smudged over the tips of his fingers. He's just finishing running through the auto checks, slumping back in his chair after pressing all clear when he feels a shift in the air, looking over his shoulder to see Jaebum's eyes staring at his hand. BamBam slips his hand into his pocket, hiding the evidence as the gravity in the ship hiccoughs, everything spinning as he digs into his palm again until everything evens out and they're locking into sync with the dock and he can finally breathe, letting his hand fall from his mouth.

"Echo has locked into landing," Jaebum reports over the radio, before it clicks off; BamBam has his eyes shut, taking deep breaths as he waits for his stomach to settle.

"Your hand is bleeding," Jaebum says, too close, and BamBam's eyes fly open to see him leaning over his chair, reaching for the hand in his pocket.

"I'm okay," BamBam says, embarrassed, but Jaebum pulls the hand out anyway, fussing with the first aid kit, and BamBam tries to hide the flutter in his chest.

It's not working.

It's not working.



be afraid
First words from Bad Boy.
Title from E.T. by Katy Perry



Mercy isn't something that Mark's been trained to expect, staring at the eyes of the thing, seven purple orbs staring back at him.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he tries to say, but the words get caught in his throat, mouth dry, as he closes his eyes and waits for the end.

Will it tear a hole through my chest and rip out my heart? he wonders, bracing himself for the inevitable pain of dying, here, alone on Vrasys, far from his family and friends, his ship a smoking ruin away behind the crater where he'd managed to crash land after his aft engine had suddenly exploded, probably a result of the drag race he'd unwisely let himself be goaded into a few planets ago. Hindsight is 20/20, he thinks, recalling the expression his mother always told him, scolding him for making rash decisions that had seemed perfectly logical to him at the time.

But that's how it always is, Mark thinks, curling his fingers into fists, listening to his heart pump blood through his veins, the air flow in and out of the ventilation tubes in his mask. I thought it wouldn't really matter.

There's a shift in the air, probably the alien creature raising a limb to bring it down with excruciating force; Mark blinks his eyes open. He can't help it.

And blinks again.

The creature is gone, instead, standing against the horizon, is what looks like a—

"—person?" Mark asks the vast emptiness of the asteroid, confused for a moment before a huge wash of sound sends him reeling literally backwards as the figure draws nearer, exploding into his restricted field of vision.

"HELLO, WHO ARE YOU?" the person, as Mark can finally see, shouts exuberantly. "MY NAME IS JACKSON!"

Eyeing the stranger, Mark wonders if perhaps dying by alien disembowelment might have been preferable.

Eyeing the stranger, Mark wonders if perhaps dying by alien disembowelment might have been preferable.


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