author: anachronisms
fandom: zankyou no terror
rating: K+
wordcount: 369
warnings: it's the ferris wheel scene. if you don't know what I'm talking about, i guess there's spoilers.
summary: for a moment, it is just the two of them, spinning in a merciless, beautiful world. —hisalisa. oneshot.
disclaimer: all characters, settings, and proprietary language are owned by the author of the work from this is derived.
additional notes: i was going through my drafts folder and found this. it's kinda old.
She's sitting in the Ferris wheel, shivering. From cold- or fear, or perhaps the knowledge of her impending doom, strapped all around her in gray steel and thermite.
He runs in, soaked; chilled to the bone, blood coursing hot with adrenaline. Her hands are cuffed to the back railing and tied all around her are bombs- dozens and dozens of them. Her eyes betray her desperation, her voice is weak, trembling- what should I do?
As he tries to reassure her, there is a groan and a shudder and the world around them lights up in pretty colors, greens and blues against black midnight. The wheel begins to turn; a carnival ride twisted into a sick, sick joke.
The clock is on and Twelve looks around Lisa's body, taking stock of the situation. He's brought supplies for bomb defusal, of course, but there is bomb defusal, and then there is mass bomb defusal. The ride spins them around like the hands of a clock and time ticks on, and on, and on.
He successfully pulls of one- two- three- bombs and really he's kind of surprised he hasn't messed up yet; his heartbeat is pounding in his ears and his fingers are heavy, trembling with the weight of someone else's life.
He hears her whimper and he stops for a second, looking up at her tear-stained face. In her eyes he sees regret; guilt- feelings that he is all too familiar with and never wanted her to have. He begins to speak, to fill the silence and void her shame- it's my fault.
His fingers continue to work, as he recounts the memories; fizzy drinks at soda stations, highway bike rides, running from the police. He can't bear to look at her as he continues to speak- "and still… I-"
He finally looks up and she meets his gaze with something like astonishment; but there is understanding there too and as she looks away, into the night; his eyes follow. For a moment; it is just the two of them, spinning in a merciless, beautiful world.
"Thank you," she says, and for a moment Twelve can forget Nine's voice running through his head-
"You should have sacrificed your queen."