After so many weeks of writing every day, I found myself itchy and jittery from not typing on my story, so I hopped on the first drabble challenge that showed up on my flist, just to ease my pain. So this double drabble was written for the
beckettsheppard drabble tree and my prompt was Home.
Warning: Not Betaed.
Home. The word felt odd in Carson's mind, too round, too whole for what he had been through this past week. He could feel John's hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the village wreckage; it was the only thing anchoring him to this earth. The stench of charred bodies hung in the air, overlaying sewage and unwashed bodies.
"I've got you," John said, his hand slipping down to rest comfortable around Carson's waist as they got to the jumper. "Dr. Biro has everything under control. And she said you're not getting enough rest here, and that I should personally escort you back."
Carson noticed that everyone else from the first response team was onboard, and all of them looked like hell. His brow furrowed as he tried to think; he couldn't see a place for him to stand for the trip back, let alone sit.
"Come on, Carson, here." John's hand pressed him forward, and down, into the co-pilot's chair. "Close your eyes if you want, get some rest," John said, taking the pilot's seat. "I'll give you a smooth ride."
Even through the grey fog of too-little-sleep and not-enough-food, Carson heard the invitation, and 'home' had meaning again.
Warning: Not Betaed.
Home. The word felt odd in Carson's mind, too round, too whole for what he had been through this past week. He could feel John's hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the village wreckage; it was the only thing anchoring him to this earth. The stench of charred bodies hung in the air, overlaying sewage and unwashed bodies.
"I've got you," John said, his hand slipping down to rest comfortable around Carson's waist as they got to the jumper. "Dr. Biro has everything under control. And she said you're not getting enough rest here, and that I should personally escort you back."
Carson noticed that everyone else from the first response team was onboard, and all of them looked like hell. His brow furrowed as he tried to think; he couldn't see a place for him to stand for the trip back, let alone sit.
"Come on, Carson, here." John's hand pressed him forward, and down, into the co-pilot's chair. "Close your eyes if you want, get some rest," John said, taking the pilot's seat. "I'll give you a smooth ride."
Even through the grey fog of too-little-sleep and not-enough-food, Carson heard the invitation, and 'home' had meaning again.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 02:29 am (UTC)(Quick note of one typo: 'you're not getting enough rest' not 'your not getting'.)
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Date: 2006-07-07 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 01:29 am (UTC)