Shhh... I'm hunting bunnies...
Jul. 12th, 2002 03:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zebralittle52Written at 2am, in the middle of a horrendous bout of insomnia. It's bound to get changed when I've actually gotten some sleep, but if anyone wants to look at it, please let me know what you think. The last half of this'll come along when the bunnies and I are on speaking terms again.
Gren. Vicious. Not mine. Never had it, never will. Damn.
Going Back, a Cowboy Bebop AU
Bullets ricocheted across the cold rooftop, ringing sharply, high up in the dull grey Blow Crow sky. For a split second, Vicious was in his sights, but then Lin was there and Gren couldn't pull the trigger.
No more innocents were going to die to save that bastard's ass.
That one moment of hesitation was all Vicious needed, and Gren spun as he fell to the asphalt. Red flowers bloomed across his shoulder, his gun dropping from numb fingers as frozen eyes watched the snake loom above.
Vicious stared down on the haggard shell of what was once his old troop mate, cocking and aiming his gun at the broken man's temple.
Only Lin's shout stayed his hand.
"Sir, wait! The rest of these are empty!"
Cold eyes turned. "What?"
Holding up the bag of Red Eye vials, the young man repeated, "They're empty. I double checked, they're full of colored water."
With a snarl, the man's chiseled face twisted in anger. He grabbed Gren's throat, squeezing. "Where are they?"
His eyes narrowed at the flash of triumph in those empty blue eyes, the returned taunt in that choked reply.
"You want 'em... take me to Titan. Keep me alive, I'll... show you where."
Vicious let go with a frustrated growl. He needed those drugs, his position and reputation were on the line. "Lin! Call the doctor those old relics keep in this sector. We're not done yet." But once he had them, though... that bastard was a dead man.
Gren was thinking the exact same thing.
Lin's belt made a passable tourniquet, and they were able to manhandle Gren's limp body into the back of the small flyer without too much blood loss. Somewhere between the frozen asphalt roof and being shoved into Vicious' ship, the wounded man lost consciousness.
*******************
Dreams are the opiate with which the mind transforms memories, turning them into something man can later rebuild upon.
*******************
"Well, I got the stitches finished in time."
"Will he wake up?"
"I... could wake him, but he'd be in incredible pain."
"I need him awake."
"He only has a week or two, maybe less. Surely..."
"You -will- wake him up. Now."
"At least let me give him something for the pain... Please, I'm a doctor."
"So long as I get what I need."
"...yes, sir."
*******************
Sometimes a dream can be manipulated, the outcome dictated by the dreamer. Unfortunately, memories are not dream.
*******************
They were in orbit around Titan the next time Gren regained consciousness.
Vicious had left him in that borrowed dress, it's bullet torn shoulder cut away to make room for the doctor's sutures.
Blinking, disoriented, he followed the line from the IV bag to the needle stuck into the back of his hand.
Lin was watching. A button was pressed. "He's awake, sir."
Still hazy, gritty eyes tried to watch the young man use the intercom, but it proved to hard for his tired mind.
On the third try, he managed to talk.
"Where am I?"
It was Vicious who answered.
"In orbit around Titan. You're going to show me where those drugs are."
His words were still in the air when he turned and walked away, calling ahead for his flyer to be made ready.
Kneeling by the sickbed, Lin gently offered to help Gren dress for the harsh desert below. "You should be comfortable while you can."
Empty eyes slowly drifted across the room, hesitant to look away from the door where the phantom of his memories had stood. It took a few moments before the gentle man inside began to show again.
"Cant'... heh, can't imagine sand up my skirt'll be pleasant. Got any pants?"
Nodding, Lin pulled a change of clothes, loose pants and a clean shirt, from a nearby closet. Laying them at the floor of the bed, he had to remove the IV before slowly helping Gren change clothes.
"The doctor said it would help with your pain, but... There was nothing he could do about... I am sorry."
Long fingers curled around Lin's shoulder, deep pools of resigned blue watching that honest, heart felt sympathy.
All he could do was shake his head.
"I've known a long time now. Long enough to get used to the idea, to prepare. But thank you."
It took a while for Gren to change into the clean clothes, his lanky body slow and cramped from days of drugged immobility.
He hoped they burned that dress.
Lin tried to help get him half-presentable, bringing a familiar smirk to his lips before they headed down to the ship's bay. The courteous boy really did have such a good heart.
He was glad Lin was staying behind.
He only had a few hours left.
Gren. Vicious. Not mine. Never had it, never will. Damn.
Going Back, a Cowboy Bebop AU
Bullets ricocheted across the cold rooftop, ringing sharply, high up in the dull grey Blow Crow sky. For a split second, Vicious was in his sights, but then Lin was there and Gren couldn't pull the trigger.
No more innocents were going to die to save that bastard's ass.
That one moment of hesitation was all Vicious needed, and Gren spun as he fell to the asphalt. Red flowers bloomed across his shoulder, his gun dropping from numb fingers as frozen eyes watched the snake loom above.
Vicious stared down on the haggard shell of what was once his old troop mate, cocking and aiming his gun at the broken man's temple.
Only Lin's shout stayed his hand.
"Sir, wait! The rest of these are empty!"
Cold eyes turned. "What?"
Holding up the bag of Red Eye vials, the young man repeated, "They're empty. I double checked, they're full of colored water."
With a snarl, the man's chiseled face twisted in anger. He grabbed Gren's throat, squeezing. "Where are they?"
His eyes narrowed at the flash of triumph in those empty blue eyes, the returned taunt in that choked reply.
"You want 'em... take me to Titan. Keep me alive, I'll... show you where."
Vicious let go with a frustrated growl. He needed those drugs, his position and reputation were on the line. "Lin! Call the doctor those old relics keep in this sector. We're not done yet." But once he had them, though... that bastard was a dead man.
Gren was thinking the exact same thing.
Lin's belt made a passable tourniquet, and they were able to manhandle Gren's limp body into the back of the small flyer without too much blood loss. Somewhere between the frozen asphalt roof and being shoved into Vicious' ship, the wounded man lost consciousness.
*******************
Dreams are the opiate with which the mind transforms memories, turning them into something man can later rebuild upon.
*******************
"Well, I got the stitches finished in time."
"Will he wake up?"
"I... could wake him, but he'd be in incredible pain."
"I need him awake."
"He only has a week or two, maybe less. Surely..."
"You -will- wake him up. Now."
"At least let me give him something for the pain... Please, I'm a doctor."
"So long as I get what I need."
"...yes, sir."
*******************
Sometimes a dream can be manipulated, the outcome dictated by the dreamer. Unfortunately, memories are not dream.
*******************
They were in orbit around Titan the next time Gren regained consciousness.
Vicious had left him in that borrowed dress, it's bullet torn shoulder cut away to make room for the doctor's sutures.
Blinking, disoriented, he followed the line from the IV bag to the needle stuck into the back of his hand.
Lin was watching. A button was pressed. "He's awake, sir."
Still hazy, gritty eyes tried to watch the young man use the intercom, but it proved to hard for his tired mind.
On the third try, he managed to talk.
"Where am I?"
It was Vicious who answered.
"In orbit around Titan. You're going to show me where those drugs are."
His words were still in the air when he turned and walked away, calling ahead for his flyer to be made ready.
Kneeling by the sickbed, Lin gently offered to help Gren dress for the harsh desert below. "You should be comfortable while you can."
Empty eyes slowly drifted across the room, hesitant to look away from the door where the phantom of his memories had stood. It took a few moments before the gentle man inside began to show again.
"Cant'... heh, can't imagine sand up my skirt'll be pleasant. Got any pants?"
Nodding, Lin pulled a change of clothes, loose pants and a clean shirt, from a nearby closet. Laying them at the floor of the bed, he had to remove the IV before slowly helping Gren change clothes.
"The doctor said it would help with your pain, but... There was nothing he could do about... I am sorry."
Long fingers curled around Lin's shoulder, deep pools of resigned blue watching that honest, heart felt sympathy.
All he could do was shake his head.
"I've known a long time now. Long enough to get used to the idea, to prepare. But thank you."
It took a while for Gren to change into the clean clothes, his lanky body slow and cramped from days of drugged immobility.
He hoped they burned that dress.
Lin tried to help get him half-presentable, bringing a familiar smirk to his lips before they headed down to the ship's bay. The courteous boy really did have such a good heart.
He was glad Lin was staying behind.
He only had a few hours left.
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no subject
Date: 2002-07-12 11:28 am (UTC)Rrrr pissedoff!Vicious.. plotting!Gren... and sweet, sweet Lin *sniff*
Do you do ff.net? 'Cause if you do, I think the summary should be, "Gren gets his." ;)
Re:
Date: 2002-07-12 11:37 am (UTC)the summary should be, "Gren gets his."
Don't go giving away the ending! ^_~ Just glad you liked it. You've had these boys in your head a hell of a lot longer than I have, so I guess I'm doing something right!
yummmm
Date: 2002-07-12 12:11 pm (UTC)Pee Ess. FF.net is the devil.
^_^
Date: 2002-07-13 06:53 pm (UTC)-Jada
Re: ^_^
Date: 2002-07-13 06:57 pm (UTC)