Tasers. No, not Tasers. Cattle prods.
And then searing pain.
And then the feel of the cold concrete floor, the sheer terror of not being able to get up, or move, or kick these guys' asses, or even see what's going on. And I could do it, could smash these guys into the next sector, if only they would let up on the damn cattle prods for just a second.
But instead I just see the whiteness of being shocked, blank but burning hot.
But then ... something else. Less pain.
A hint of shadow. A hint that my eyes and mind might be functioning again.
And sounds. Of flesh hitting concrete. But this time, not mine.
And then the whiteness is gone.
And then black.
Black leather high-heel boots.
Then a higher view, as strength inches back slowly, enough to turn my head upward.
Black leather pants. Tight in the way that challenges the laws of physics. On legs I definitely recognize the shape of.
Then a black leather vest. Instead of a shirt. The curve of breasts as seen from below.
And then lips. Full, pink lips that look intoxicatingly sweet. Saying, "Stop lying there like a little bitch, Alec. Just because I'm rescuing your ass doesn't mean I'm gonna let you slack off while I do all the work."
And then those fucking genes kick in, those soldier-genes that never stop giving me help or hassles, and I find my power again. And I jump up and say, "Hey, Maxie - have I ever told you how good you look in black?"
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Written for comment_fic on Livejournal, a multi-fandom prompt community called "Comment_fic: Bite Sized bits of Fic," where you can request or write fic from any fandom.
Prompt was Max/Alec, black leather