Nothing personal: Voices
Just Business | Nothing Personal - Voices
This is a fic is a sequel to @amistrio ‘s amazing Just Business. At the moment it is just a scene, but there may be more as there are sparks flying over here.
Many, many thanks to @amistrio for letting me play in her sandbox. I promise to clean up afterwards and brush the sand off the furniture...eventually.
Angst warning. This is very much a reaction fic, to that fic, but I kinda lost control of it...you know how it is ::puppy eyes::
But anyway, I hope you enjoy it :D
-o-o-o-
There were voices.
Many voices.
One was louder than the others, but it was the harshest and he shied away from it.
The other voices were far gentler. Like fingers combing through his hair. Tender, familiar touches to his cheeks. A rumble of a familiar baritone fraught with worry.
He frowned.
A calmer voice spoke reassurance and safety. Feminine, motherly, Grandma.
Grandma.
He smiled.
And was quickly punished, sharp pain stabbing at his temples. White hot tines driving into his skull.
He opened his mouth to scream.
But like the flicking of a switch, it was all gone.
And so was he.
-o-o-o-
He woke.
Or at least he thought he did.
The infirmary surrounded him. Something wet was dripping down the side of his face.
He blinked.
The light was bright.
“Scott?”
Dark hair and his brother moved into view. That hair was an untidy mess of curls. He couldn’t recall seeing Virgil’s curls since he was a teenager. His brother disliked them so.
One of Virgil’s hands held a cloth. It was damp.
Scott stared at it knowing he should be connecting dots.
He tried to reach up a hand to his face, but his hand was stuck, tied down...
“No. No.” Virgil dropped the cloth and grabbed at his arm. “You have a head injury. No messing up Grandma’s handiwork.”
Grandma’s handiwork. The traditional grandmother knitted or crocheted.
Grandma Tracy sutured.
He wondered what the hell had happened this time.
“You’re going to be okay.”
It was a familiar Virgil line, often said in situations like this one.
But his voice didn’t usually shake.
And usually he didn’t look like he had taken a dive through one of Two’s air intakes.
His brother looked awful and it set Scott’s hackles rising. “What’s wrong?”
It came out of his mouth but it echoed back through his head pounding on every neuron it could find.
He winced, screwing his eyes shut.
God.
The hands on his arm crept up to his shoulders. Fingers touched his cheeks as if attempting to suck the pain out of his face through their tips.
“Scott, focus on me. Focus!”
He forced his eyes open and found the deep brown worry in front of him. He latched onto the determination in those irises and clung.
“Breathe with me.”
Virgil sucked air in through his nose, and Scott couldn’t help but obey…
Obey…
Oh god.
“Scott! Scott, focus, on me. Here. You’re safe. Focus.”
Those dark eyes were his everything.
His heart thundered in his chest but his lungs drew in air through his nose, and let it seep out between his teeth.
And again.
Again.
His brother’s hand was warm against his cheek and he found himself turning into it.
“Good, Scott. Stay with me.”
Their breathing matched as his heartbeat slowed, losing the panic, and the fear, calming…
“You are safe, big brother, safe.”
Then why were there tears in Virgil’s eyes.
Was this a dream or a nightmare?
A finger was stroking his cheek.
He sat in that moment - between love and pain.
Safe.
-o-o-o-
And he was gone again.
Virgil held his brother’s bandaged head in his hands a moment longer, his heart begging for those blue eyes to open again.
‘Virgil.’ A quiet, calm voice. ‘Virgil?’
A hand landed on his shoulder and gripped gently.
Virgil let Scott slip from his hold, the imprints of his fingers fading almost immediately as his brother’s head tipped slowly to one side.
Forcing himself to straighten, Virgil turned to face John.
His little brother’s eyes were bloodshot, but his face was calm. As calm as Virgil’s should have been, but he…couldn’t.
So, it had been left to John to be the rock of the family.
Virgil’s breath hissed out between his teeth.
The hand on his shoulder gripped a little tighter.
“Eos is still trying.”
“He woke up. He was himself.” Virgil sucked in a breath. “They took him away again.”
HE took their brother away.
Bile rose up in Virgil’s throat. The sight of Scott, blood smeared across his face, struggling in Virgil’s grip, desperate to OBEY.
The smirk on that…bastard’s face as he did whatever he did, his eye flashing in petty vengeance.
Eos had been trying to hack the signal ever since.
The Hood was blocked, yes, but the things were programmed to do what they were programmed to do and they were in his brother’s head.
Parting words.
“She will find a way.” John’s voice was certain, even as he sighed. “Grandma says you need to rest. I will sit with Scott.”
Virgil looked back at his big brother, limp on the bed.
With things crawling around in his head.
“I’m going to talk with Eos.” He gripped John’s arm and then slid past him towards the door.
“Virg-“
“I have to.” He pulled away.
And John let him go.
-o-o-o-
TBC?
