Um...(*a coffin lid is lifted and a pair of brownish eyes peeks out à la Lukas with the golem in S1E1*)...not dead? Heh...
Okay, I know I said this would be posted on August 1st, but there's been some weird stressful stuff going on with my health these past few weeks and...yeah, I have no excuse really. But now I'm back and I'm back with my meagre response to MCSM AU Month. Inept though I am, I couldn't resist the call.
There were 27 prompts in total (you can check out Jesseoftheorder's Tumblr page for the full list and you can also find other people's awesome contributions by following the 'mcsmaumonth' tag), but I'm afraid I only managed to fill Days 12, 18, 20 and 31...
(Aiden's voice in the distance: "Classic Rain.")
I apologise in advance that I kind of subconsciously used this one as a personal emotional outlet of sorts, so there are bits of underlying self-projection mixed in here and there, but if you don't mind that, then fic-ward, ho!
Virulence
July 12 – Withersickness AU
(despite the fact that Jesse, and possibly others, had more exposure to the Witherstorm's beams, Petra/Gabriel seems to be the only one who suffers from Withersickness, at least at first...)
Out of every single implication of…this, the one that really rankles Lukas is the simple fact that he's already useless, and in all the worst ways. They all know it, even if Axel's the only one prepared to come right out and say it. Which, in a twisted kind of way, Lukas appreciates.
Jesse and Petra can promise that they don't blame him as many times as they like; it doesn't change anything. No matter how they try to slice it, it was him who froze up instead of doing one thing to help Petra or Gabriel, or at least to protect Jesse. Lukas doesn't even want to think about where Petra might be if Jesse hadn't been doing everything they could, let alone where Gabriel probably is right now. Not that that stops his mind from wandering from horrific scenario to horrific scenario.
He could've prevented it. A hero, a warrior, Magnus and Ellegaard's beloved friend…lost, and Lukas could've prevented it. But he just stood there and watched.
Lukas shoves that thought away with as much force as his weary mind can muster, but the next one isn't much better. Because there's also the fact that Jesse is doing remarkably well under the circumstances – they all are, in fact. But Lukas? On the floor of that makeshift dirt hut they'd all slept in just two nights ago, he remembers pinching himself more times than he could count, pinching himself until he drew blood, as though he seriously hoped that it was just some hyper-realistic nightmare because he obviously can't even face the mess they've all found themselves in (how did everything become such a mess in so short a time?).
So really, what's weighing Lukas down so much is the fact that he has no right to be so weighed down. Not when he couldn't do a thing right in the first place, even before...this showed up.
Insults are traded, arms are thrown up with vehemence and Magnus and Ellegaard storm off in opposite directions and Lukas knows he doesn't deserve to be irritated, not really. If he'd done something, anything, Gabriel would be here with them and maybe the warrior would've managed to stop that from happening.
Lukas's eyes land on the majestic statues around them, both appreciating and resenting the way the components fit together, make sense, belong, and he knows he doesn't deserve to long for the brand of logic in building that's otherwise been conspicuously absent from Lukas's life since he was a little kid. The sense of control that's even now slipping through his fingers like sand.
Especially because even thinking about building sends a throb up the muscles of his right arm.
Lukas winces, then darts his eyes around. Luckily, Jesse's busy talking to Axel and none of the others are looking at him, which gives Lukas time to slowly grip his jacket sleeve (his Ocelot jacket sleeve…the Ocelots…Aiden, Maya, Gill...where are you guys?), under which faint streaks of purplish-black are spreading across tender skin, eating away at him in what he's beginning to suspect is more ways than one.
And he doesn't deserve to be scared. But, God, he is.
He is.
But so is everyone else.
Petra, gazing off into space, looks pale and exhausted as it is, Axel and Olivia both bear eye bags and torn clothes, and even though Reuben's determinedly sticking by Jesse's side, Jesse themselves trying so hard to keep everybody alive and well, the last thing any of them need is something or somebody else to worry about.
Lukas isn't really sure how long he can keep this hidden, hold in his frustration towards himself without letting it spill over and lash outwards, go on pretending. But he's sure he can hold on for a while longer. He has to. For their sakes.
Maybe…maybe he'll be able to figure out how to get rid of it or at least slow it down and then nobody will have to know at all.
Or maybe not. Maybe he never will.
Either way, Jesse and their friends would all still have each other. They'd all still make it, Lukas knows they would. With or without him. It's not like anyone really needs him for anything. What can he actually do that none of them can? Who'd truly miss him, truly be affected, if he...wasn't around?
What use is he to anyone?
On the other side of the blanket of slight unreality and disbelief that seems to have draped itself over Lukas, he registers Jesse choosing a path for them all to take, still managing to keep that gentle, sincere smile on their face even though it's clear to everyone else, including Lukas, that they could use a break as much as anybody. Jesse's twice the leader Lukas would be. Twice the leader he was to his friends (Axel's made it abundantly clear that, in his eyes at least, Lukas isn't allowed to call this group his friends; in Axel's eyes, Lukas's friendship isn't wanted here; in Axel's eyes, Lukas is little more than a walking talking deadweight, definitely no more than a tagalong, and how can Lukas blame him?).
Then, at the entrance to the passage – the left one, Lukas realises dimly – Petra taps Jesse's shoulder, muttering something to them that he doesn't catch. He's too busy staring at her.
Lukas had asked her if she was doing okay earlier, of course; she hadn't really seemed herself. But Petra had only replied, "Why wouldn't I be?", which wasn't really answering the question, while giving Lukas a nonchalant smile with a look in her eyes that dared him to imply that she was anything but fine. So he'd left it at that.
But close up, Petra really doesn't look good. Her posture's more slumped than Lukas is used to seeing in spite of her efforts to hide it and her eyes are ringed with shadows. Purple shadows. And at the exact same second Lukas notices this, his arm muscles give a particularly harsh twinge, accompanied by a sudden wave of faint nausea.
A block of obsidian seems to drop into Lukas's gut as his mind speeds to make connections he can't quite keep up with. But before he can say anything, Axel tugs none-too-gently at Lukas's right arm (forcing him to bite back a pained yelp) towards the other passageway with a tight-shouldered Olivia in tow, while Jesse, Petra and Reuben disappear into the other.
Maybe this is just so that we can try both paths out more quickly, says Lukas's swimming head reasonably. His heart, however, knows that something is wrong.
Well. More wrong than things already are. He glances down at his sleeve again, rubbing at it as if to scrub the poison out of his forearm. Out of him.
The three of them walk in utter silence. Olivia, one of her hands clasping the wrist of the other behind her back, does open her mouth once or twice as though to start up with small talk, but one look at Axel's clenched jaw and lowered eyebrows seems to convince her to think better of it. Neither of them notice the way Lukas is avoiding their gazes.
You can just tell them.
You can get it over with.
You can stop pretending.
You can even tell them that you're worried about Petra too.
That way you can do something good for one of them for once.
But he doesn't. He can't help anybody. Not even himself.
Useless.
God, he knows.
I honestly thought that these ficlets were easily the worst things I've ever posted, but quite a few people on Tumblr actually seemed to like them, so I hold out hope that they provide you guys with some enjoyment :)
By the way, did you notice that the primary genre on Pathways is angst? That's because all of these bits of garbage are...well, angsty in some way, some more than others. Although I guess those of you familiar with my stuff were probably expecting that to a degree, heh.
So yeah, I like to think that Lukas and Petra would both spend rather a lot of time deep in introspection over the implications of their Withersickness...after all, being lost in one's own little world is preferable to being stuck in other people's worlds, is it not? (*smiles to herself while thinking about Day 18 and Day 31*)
