Warnings: Slash and death
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: So, this was originally a challenge fic for JumperSlash in Livejournal, but I decided to post it here as well, giving you guys some yumminess while waiting for the rest of The Solitude of heart. I'm rather happy about this one-shot and I have to admit that I like it a lot.
I'd like to dedicate this one to Sinstralpride, the moderater of Jumperslash, because she is awesome and very good at what she's doing. Go to LiveJournal and check her out!
Oh, and reviews are always loved!
He had not been expecting them.
As a matter of fact, they seemed to appear out of nowhere, like black, adaptable lightnings from a clear, cloudless sky. He did not notice them before it was almost too late, and that despite the fact that he was more than familiar with the concept of moving fast and staying invisible.
The only thing that had him alerted was the crackling, unmistakable sound of high voltage electricity equipment right behind him.
An E.M.R.
He'd managed to Jump just before the rod hit his shoulder, but seeing as it was indeed Paladins that he was dealing with, and considering the fact that they were able to follow him with that damned machine of theirs, made an escape almost impossible. Whatever he did, and wherever he went, they would come after him, and knowing their kind, David was sure that they would never give up. Paladins were like bloodhounds, hunters. They never let their prey escape.
Therefore, he had decided to stay and fight, even if the outcome could indeed be deadly. There was no way he was going to back down, and if he had to pay with his life, then at least he would die knowing he'd done his best.
Fortunately, it wasn't his mother that came after him this time, nor was it the hated, white haired bastard he had left in a cave on a deserted mountain about a year ago. Roland had not made his presence known since then, but David was convinced that he was still alive. The likes of Roland never stopped, not even on the brink of death. Surely, he would be back some day. However, it was not tonight.
This time it was three of faceless men and a woman that were chasing him, and he had already gotten rid of one. The woman was a long-legged beauty, whom David had seen several times during his fights with the Jumpers. She was some kind of high-ranking Paladin and the blond had learned that she really knew her profession. She was deadly.
And David knew that he had to be careful.
The guys were not nearly as hard to beat, but the Jumper was not going to underestimate them. One should never to that to ones enemies.
Actually, it had been a while since they had tracked him down now. There had been a rather long amount of time with peace, and David had gotten the chance to spend more time with Millie and they're friends, than he usually had, when he was hiding and moving from one place to another.
Still, their presence was not completely unwelcome. He was, and he had no choice but admitting it, drawn to the excitement of their fights, and even if he knew the seriousness of a possible outcome, he could not help but somewhat enjoying the thrill it brought along.
He had been fighting them for a good couple of minutes now, and truth to be told, he was getting tired.
He had lead them into a dead end in one of Tokyo's many, deserted lanes. That was the one Jump he had preformed, and seeing as they had indeed followed him, he did not even bother taking another one. Of course, he used his abilities in the fight, but only to make his movements swifter. It was, after all, the only advantage he had.
He knew he had to avoid the electric rod at all costs, cause it they managed to hit him with that, it would be over.
He was currently bleeding from his lower lip and his head had gotten one hell of a scratch when the nameless woman had given him a solid kick. His left leg felt somewhat bruised as well, but other than that he felt fine.
Apparently, the two male Paladins were in much more pain than him, and he suspected that one of them had a broken leg. David had Jumped him several feet up in the air and dropped him, but even with a fleshy wound and his bone poking out, he was dragging himself around, trying to stun David with the rod.
Of course, the Jumper was not letting him anywhere near himself with that thing, but even though he was slow, he represented danger, and gave the blond less space to move in. The man that was still somewhat in good shape was a real nuisance. Big, bold and very persistent. However, it was the woman that he feared the most. Something about her sent shivers down his spine and he could not get rid of the thought that she was somehow inhuman. Her blue eyes were cold as ice, and the way her long, black hair swiveled gracefully in the air as she preformed one of her flying kicks, seemed too perfect, to beautiful to come from a ruthless killer.
She reminded him of a predator. A sneaking, betraying predator, completely without humanity.
That was why, when he suddenly found himself pinned beneath that icy stare, gazing breathlessly up at a face that held absolutely no emotion, he could not find the strength to move an inch. Disbelievingly, shocked almost, he stared into those vibrant depths, realizing that there was no way he was getting out of this one alive.
He had slipped for just one second, losing track of where she was for nothing more that a moment, but that had been all she needed. Her rod had hit him in the back his head, and his skull was still aching painfully from the harsh blow.
Now, as jolts of electricity streamed through his body, making him spasm and twitch, he wished that he had never let her out of his sight, and cursed himself for not being a better fighter. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he refused to blink, to show her any kind of weakness. If she was going to kill him, he was at least going to die with some dignity.
The man with the fracture laughed raggedly, his rough laugh seemingly ripping the Jumper's insides apart. David wanted to scowl. To tear him to shreds, or beat him to a bloody pulp. How the hell could he be laughing in such an amused way, when David himself was about to get killed? It made him sick to think about, and through the overwhelming pain, he felt his stomach churn painfully. It was pure madness, malice at its worst.
Gasping for air, he desperately tried to Jump, to escape the sickening pain. Of course, it did not work, and as dark spots dances before his eyes, Millie's face ascended in his mind. With a pant, he imagined what her reactions would be like once she found out he was dead, and a loud, choked sob tore its way from his throat.
I don't want to die!
The dark haired woman above him said nothing, and did not even blink as his body went in to severe convulsions, and her gaze never wavered as blood started to pour from his nose.
The unaffected look on her face made him even more desperate, and the fear made his heard hammer wildly in his chest. He was going to die. Now.
"N-no!" He choked, using the last remains of his voice. "P-please!"
It was embarrassing, shameful to plead, and it made him feel utterly disgusted. However, his tormentor just regarded him with a dead expression, her porcelain skin paler than the moon. She was showing him no mercy. Suddenly she raised her free arm, revealing a long, blinking blade. A knife.
He caught her hand just before she plunged it into his chest, but he knew he would not be able to hold it there for a long time. Sooner or later it would be over.
The lights were fading. He was going to pass out, and once he did, it would all be over. The knife would pierce through his heart, just like that.
His vision was blurry and he could taste the chopper in his mouth. Blood.
His grip on her hand loosened, and he felt himself slowly slipping into darkness.
Now.
He was going to die no—
—A scream. A piercing, horrified scream echoed through the street.
A male voice was making the loud, quivering screech and soon, another voice joined the first, this one slightly deeper than the other. The pressure against his arm decreased a little, and David felt the Paladin shift her weight.
"Ah!"
His eyes snapped open. All he saw was the otherwise stony mask of his captor pulled into a frightened, painful grimace, and suddenly, the source of the pain, her rod, disappeared from his chest and all that was left was this dull ache. She was brutally pulled backwards with a force that sent her long, dark locks fluttering around her face, and one of her heels connected with his thigh, making him yelp in pain and surprise.
In the dim lights, he saw a dark figure behind her
Wide eyed, he watched her pupils narrow, and her mouth open in a silent, breathless scream.
Then, without warning, her neck took a twist, and with a cracking, nauseating sound, it snapped.
All that was heard after that was his own, sore panting, and the rustle of his clothes as he tried to get up from his sprawled position on the ground. Preparing himself for whatever would come next, he hurriedly stood up and leaned against the nearest wall. Pressing his back against the rough, cold surface, he tried to control his ragged breathing.
Peering through the gloomy darkness, all he saw was the contours of a person, most likely a man, judging by his built.
"Who are you?" He panted, knees weak from exhaustion.
He got no answer, and he was about to ask again, but before he managed to find his voice, his legs gave in underneath him, and he felt himself crashing towards the ground. However, before he hit it, a hand was at his chest, tugging him upwards by the shirt, and another one was placed around his waist.
Dazzled, he was pushed roughly against the wall and he cringed when the back of his head smacked against the bricks.
Then, a face he knew all to well appeared before his eyes. A face he had not seen in months.
He felt his throat tighten and his mouth go dry.
Griffin.
Ocean eyes, rimmed by dark, thick lashes, gazed into his own, a concern that did not fit them at all burning in their sparkling depths. Seeing that look in them made his heart sting painfully and without even thinking about stopping them, tear welled up in his eyes.
Griffin, the man he had deserted in a war zone in Chechnya, not knowing whether he was going to live or not. He had done so to protect Millie, but it still hurt, and he felt so damned bad about it. He had seen him a couple of times since then, every time during battles against the Paladins. Griffin kept track of them, and where they went, he usually followed. Their encounters were always short though, awkward, and they never talked much after the fights. Just insulted each other, or the likes.
Now he was here.
Holding no one but David himself, saving him from his death.
Why? He managed to ask himself, but his fogged brain gave him no answers.
All he managed to think about was the warm hand on his chest, and the emotion seeping from those eyes only inches from his.
Griffin.
He felt his own mask slipping and before he knew it, he had raised his hands and placed them on each sides of his face. He did not manage to speak, but he saw how those shining, cerulean orbs widened and how delicate, sandy brows knitted, a pained frown appearing in his face.
David could see every single change in his eyes, every shadow underneath them, every pore, and he felt himself drawn in by them, mercilessly, like a moth to the flame. Griffin did nothing to stop him, and the grip on his shirt only tightened, calloused fingers digging into the flesh beneath.
Just before their lips met, a hoarse whisper left the brunette's mouth. Words David clung to like a lifeline.
"It's all right, David. I'm here."