Stuff100: Thin Air
Oct. 10th, 2012 03:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lb_leeYou know what'll cheer me up today? INFINITY SMASHED.
Thin Air
Word Count: 491
Notes: Raige and M.D. have met literally within the hour, at this time. Very early on.
When Raige comes to, the airport is gone, and they’re falling.
He doesn’t get the significance at first; it seems so peaceful. No sound but the air crescendo in his ears, nothing to feel but it rushing icy cold past his skin, nothing to see but the clear, beautiful sky around them. Nothing but a serene dream.
When he sees M.D., the blood on her face, it pings a small alarm in his mind, but somehow, he just can’t figure out what it means. He just notes with dreamy detachment that it’s funny, watching blood flow up…
Something in his brain is chattering at him, but he’s still so dazed it doesn’t seem important.
Then he sees the ground, and his brain reboots on the spot, because oh god, that’s kill-you height right there and nothing wakes you up like death. He doesn’t know what happened, how they got here, or how fast they’re going, but of one thing, he’s completely, utterly certain: it’s going to take an eternity for them to hit the ground, at least thirty seconds. And that’s thirty seconds longer than he can stand right now.
He grabs M.D., tries to shake her with no leverage, screams at her to wake up even though there’s no way she can hear him over the wind. He doesn’t know what he expects her to do, whether it’d be better just to let her stay out cold, what her deal is, even. He just doesn’t want to die alone.
Whatever her operating system is, it must be a lot better than his. Her eyes open and snap into focus immediately. She jolts, twists to look around them, takes in the scene, doesn’t even bother to wipe the blood off her face. He catches her expression, and it’s so weird that it cuts through his panic: she’s not afraid.
Before he can get any further than that, she snatches the pet carrier out of the air—he hadn’t even noticed it. She pounds on it a couple times, then latches onto Raige like a life jacket, and god, she’s pointy under all those clothes, but with her mouth right by his ear, smearing her blood into his hair, he can hear her over the roar.
“Hold on,” she shouts. “This’ll hurt.”
He’s so addled that he just says okay, though no telling if she hears him, because that’s when the G force cuts in.
The past summer, Raige was in a car accident with his dad. Nobody was hurt, but he still remembers the force of impact, the seat belt gouging into his chest, the air bag exploding into his face, the sickening fear of oh god Dadhimtheothercar. That was pretty bad; this is worse. There’s no metal to absorb the impact, no seat belts or airbags. Just him and that unafraid, strange girl, plummeting through space while the wind howls.
He has no idea what she’s doing, why she can do it, but she seems to know what she’s doing, and he doesn’t know anything. So he does what she says, and hangs on.
Thin Air
Word Count: 491
Notes: Raige and M.D. have met literally within the hour, at this time. Very early on.
When Raige comes to, the airport is gone, and they’re falling.
He doesn’t get the significance at first; it seems so peaceful. No sound but the air crescendo in his ears, nothing to feel but it rushing icy cold past his skin, nothing to see but the clear, beautiful sky around them. Nothing but a serene dream.
When he sees M.D., the blood on her face, it pings a small alarm in his mind, but somehow, he just can’t figure out what it means. He just notes with dreamy detachment that it’s funny, watching blood flow up…
Something in his brain is chattering at him, but he’s still so dazed it doesn’t seem important.
Then he sees the ground, and his brain reboots on the spot, because oh god, that’s kill-you height right there and nothing wakes you up like death. He doesn’t know what happened, how they got here, or how fast they’re going, but of one thing, he’s completely, utterly certain: it’s going to take an eternity for them to hit the ground, at least thirty seconds. And that’s thirty seconds longer than he can stand right now.
He grabs M.D., tries to shake her with no leverage, screams at her to wake up even though there’s no way she can hear him over the wind. He doesn’t know what he expects her to do, whether it’d be better just to let her stay out cold, what her deal is, even. He just doesn’t want to die alone.
Whatever her operating system is, it must be a lot better than his. Her eyes open and snap into focus immediately. She jolts, twists to look around them, takes in the scene, doesn’t even bother to wipe the blood off her face. He catches her expression, and it’s so weird that it cuts through his panic: she’s not afraid.
Before he can get any further than that, she snatches the pet carrier out of the air—he hadn’t even noticed it. She pounds on it a couple times, then latches onto Raige like a life jacket, and god, she’s pointy under all those clothes, but with her mouth right by his ear, smearing her blood into his hair, he can hear her over the roar.
“Hold on,” she shouts. “This’ll hurt.”
He’s so addled that he just says okay, though no telling if she hears him, because that’s when the G force cuts in.
The past summer, Raige was in a car accident with his dad. Nobody was hurt, but he still remembers the force of impact, the seat belt gouging into his chest, the air bag exploding into his face, the sickening fear of oh god Dadhimtheothercar. That was pretty bad; this is worse. There’s no metal to absorb the impact, no seat belts or airbags. Just him and that unafraid, strange girl, plummeting through space while the wind howls.
He has no idea what she’s doing, why she can do it, but she seems to know what she’s doing, and he doesn’t know anything. So he does what she says, and hangs on.
