A/N - A quick little thing for a friend who's currently obsessed with The
Real Adventures of Jonny Quest, and quite unhappy that the series doesn't
air anymore. Weeell, today is Anna-chan's b-day, so here's my present to
you. Long live non-Yaoi mush! ^_^ Ps, not meant to be romantic or anything,
just expressing concern between friends.
Not mine, don't own, not making money, no sue.
___________________
Worried
By Spazkit ___________________
"Look Doc, whatever it is, I'm sure it's not a big deal, here," Race chided lightly over the intercom. Snow drifted lazily outside before colliding violently with the cabin area's windows, brightening the already intense sky.
"Race, I'm serious. This is the second warning I've received from the White House," Benton Quest's voice buzzed back through the plane's control console. "Someone may have tampered with the plane."
Race frowned, and ran another brief diagnostic over the craft. "All things seem to be in order up here, Doc, but alright. I'll contact the nearest landing strip. Course', who knows how far away it is. If you're so worried, then I'll put your mind at ease."
"Of course I'm worried!" Benton sighed audibly through the line. Shaking his head, Race glanced behind him for some back-up, but Jonny was out cold behind him and Jessie and Hadji were involved in some deep discussion, practically arguing.
Race had to smile. "Well then, don't worry doc, we're fine-"
The last word was clipped when suddenly, a warning light beeped to life on the console. Eyes narrowing, Race leaned forward to examine the problem.
"Race? What's that?" Quest asked quickly, his voice becoming more like static over the line.
"I don't know, looks like a problem with the engine or-"
A loud groan ripped through the cabin as the plane was jolted forwards. Jonny's eyes flew open and Jessie and Hadji cried out in surprise. Race's hands moved like lightning over the controls, attempting to right the sudden rapid decent of the plane. He was vaguely aware of the sudden smoke that filled the cabin, and then the console seemed to come forward to greet his face.
And then, all Race knew was darkness.
*******************
Exhaustion. Cold. Weight. A large weight, bearing down on his mind. It was intolerable torture; he just wanted to fall back to oblivion. Something told him he needed to awaken, but the darkness was too alluring, like a soothing blanket to his weakened thoughts.
"Race?" Jonny asked hastily when the older man's eyelids fluttered.
"Dad?" Jessie asked also, gently pulling Race's damp neck and head into her lap. Sinking her fingers into the threaded chord of muscle in his neck, she took his pulse and frowned. It had been two hours. Two hours since the damned plane crashed and two hours since Race, Hadji, Jonny and Jessie had been trapped beneath the ice.
"I don't know, Jonny," She whimpered softly, her eyes widening and brimming with tears. It had been two hours since Race had been conscious. Thrown forwards, his head had connected with the plane's control console with a sickening thud amongst the sound of straining metal. Jonny had found him, found him in a pool of scarlet blood. Even now, after they had wiped the fluid from his brow, his face looked pale and drawn. Shuddering, Jessie clutched the chilled man closely, brushing his cheek with her snow-covered hair.
The small cavern now called home was growing darker and night grew closer in Siberia. The plane had somehow malfunctioned. Jonny shuddered and tried not to think about it. Now was the time to focus on getting them /out/ of there alive.
A sheet of snow fell from the revealed plane doorway to the icy ground with a silent burst of movement, revealing Hadji as he emerged from the wrecked plane. Carrying a large bundle, he moved across the cavern to where the others huddled together for warmth. Settling down beside the sprawled form of Race, the dark skinned sixteen-year-old reached out a gloved hand to touch soft snow-colored hair. Filled with an obvious worry, Hadji dug through the survival pack he had rescued from the fallen plane, and retrieved a large thermal blanket. Without words, they knew who would be using it.
Jonny grunted, lifting Race's heavy body as Hadji slid the reflective material beneath it. Task done, they wrapped Race as you would a baby, all the while Jessie pressed his face against her lap. The unconscious man didn't make a sound, not even a groan as his limbs were enfolded and secured.
"I found this and activated it," Hadji said softly, as if the world of ice and cold would collapse around them if words were spoken above a whisper. In his hand he held a one-way emergency transmitter, now blinking in a regular rhythm. He placed the device on the ground with great care. It was their only hope; it was a hundred miles of snow and tundra until they might even catch a glimpse of civilization. Jonny watched the little red light blink on and off, his breath puffing silently before his face. Shivering, he knew there was nothing to do now but wait.
Jessie shuddered as well, and slid to lie beside her father. She tucked her nose in the crook of his neck, the tip touching the edge of the thermal blanket. Her body crushed the snow beneath, and despite the parka she wore, the chill sank deep into her bones. If she was this cold, so was Race. A new wave of concern wash over the girl, and she tucked a protective arm around his waist. Dad.
"It will be all right, Jessie," Hadji said with a warm smile as he sat cross-legged on the ground. Jonny sat beside Hadji, and the two teenagers took an unannounced first watch as night descended in Siberia.
It took perhaps the night, but after several hours, eyelids grew heavy with weariness. Jonny lay down, if only to rest his throbbing head. He curled up beside Jessie, his chilled body trembling. Time began to merge and blur, reality became what felt like a dream. He never remembered Hadji lying behind him, and never remembered closing his eyes to shield them from the coming day's brightness.
By the time the sounds of a chopper could be heard, the four were snuggled closely beside each other, craving and crushed together for warmth. Jonny blinked, frost beaded across his eyelashes. He barely registered the shadows moving across the cavern walls, barely even knew where he was. It was just. so cold.
His last conscious breath was the soft sigh of relief when the running form of Dr. Benton Quest sharpened in his fading vision.
Dr. Quest hissed, charging into the crash site. Followed by private physicians, his heart leapt into his raw throat when he saw the bluish tint that clamed his son's face. And Race. A large gash disappeared into his hairline, the wound still leaking minute drops of scarlet blood. All his family, his. life. lay here. Breath puffing in the air, he dropped to one knee and touched each face, as if lending his own warmth and strength to those fallen. His hand touched Race's cheek, the skin a deathly pallor, and a chill ran up his spine.
"Race?" Benton asked softly, worry etched in his voice.
Race swam in darkness, whispers of thoughts and awareness fleeting under the sweet seduction of sleep and rest. However. as time went on, or so he assumed, clear thoughts could be formed and things began to clear. Instant confusion infiltrated his mind and he reeled at the sheer intensity of it. Part of him was sure this was not right, part of him demanded immediate awareness to assess the situation. Another wanted only this comforting darkness. And in the end, his concern prevailed and his mind surged upwards, towards the waking world.
A groan worked its way through his aching body. Lights flashed before his vision, varying in color and intensity. Blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to clear his vision as well as his mind, Race returned to the world of the living.
And the first thing he knew, was that he was sick.
Fever burned his body with little compassion. He felt like he was down a dark tunnel, with reality trailing behind. Lights were too bright and the drone of what sounded like an engine was too loud. Engine? Where was he, wasn't he flying? Why the hell was he asleep at the wheel?
Concerned, he lifted his head, or tried too. Pain ricocheted off the walls of his skull like a Ping-Pong ball. He gasped and jammed his eyes shut, trying to evade the pain. A breathy moan entered his ears, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his.
Risking the pain, an eyelid fluttered open and race took in his surroundings. He. was in a dimly lit room, and resting comfortably on a large bed. Glancing down, he saw that Jessie was pressed closely beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. She moaned softly again, her slender hand coming to rest on his bare chest beneath the covers. Jessie?
Confused and concerned, Race wanted to ask what was wrong, but a fevered fog had again descended upon his already throbbing mind. Weakly, he turned his head to the left, and was assaulted with more worry when he saw Jonny strewn across an adjacent bed, his hand dangling laxly from the mattress. He was prepared to gather what strength he had and rise from the comfort of bed and Jessie's warmth to see just what the hell was going on, when suddenly, the room tilted to one side. As the center of gravity adjusted, it dawned on Race that. he was onboard a plane. The hum of the engine confirmed it. God, why was his thinking so distorted?
Again, he gathered his wits and jammed his eyes shut, trying to come forward. As he suspected, his brain was unhappy with his decision to sit up. Before he got too far, two warm hands braced his broad shoulders and forced him backwards. His brain was thankful and the throbbing decreased slightly when his head touched the pillow. He groaned and opened his eyes.
Benton sat beside him on the bed, both hands still on his shoulders. A soft smile lit the doctor's face. "Easy Race," he whispered softly, a thumb rubbing the confused man's collarbone.
"Benton?" Race croaked, surprised at the roughness of his voice. ".what?" he asked.
"Shh," the doctor soothed, hands leaving Race's shoulders to pull the covers back up. "There was an accident, but it's alright now," Benton explained quietly. He handed race a small glass of water, which the wounded and ill man took gratefully and drank, the cool liquid soothing his throat.
"Accident? I. don't remember-"
"I know," Benton said softly, reaching beside Race to Jessie, gently brushing back a strand of fire-red hair. "You hit your head pretty hard there, Race. Had me. worried."
Race blinked blearily, struggling to remember but wondering if it was worth the effort. "Everybody alright?"
Benton nodded. "A little cold, but alright. We got there in time. You, on the other hand."
Race removed his arm from the covers and waved a hand. "M'fine," he murmured softly, dropping the arm behind Jessie's head. Benton glared at the man for a moment, then decided berating him was futile, considering that Race probably didn't remember the crash at all anyway. Sighing, he sat beside Race for a few more minutes, watching as heavy eyelids fought to keep open.
"Get some sleep, Race. I want you up and healthy for our trip to Moscow."
"Ugh, no more snow, please," Jessie murmured from the crook of Race's neck and chin. Race tightened his arm around his daughter, his nose sinking into her hair. A few moments more, and both the bed's occupants breathed deep and regularly. Benton stood slowly, and paused before Jonny and Hadji's bed, dropping a kiss into soft blond and dark hair. As he turned and moved to walk between the beds, a sweaty hand grabbed at his arm. Dr. Quest looked down, surprised.
The doctor sat again on the edge of the bed, leaning down towards the pillows to hear. "Benton." Race breathed, sleep obviously clinging to his senses, sapphire eyes barely open. "I. should have been more careful, I."
Quest placed a cool hand on the bodyguard's forehead, drawing a moan from the man. The doctor ran his thumb over Race's eyebrow, and eyelids fluttered shut. Other hand still captured by the now-sleeping Race, Benton slowly lifted himself from the bed. Race groaned and rolled over, cradling Jessie. Benton shook his head.
"You had me worried." He murmured softly as he exited the plane's guest room, "But you always seem to pull through. I pray we should always be as lucky." Benton closed the door and let his family rest.
Not mine, don't own, not making money, no sue.
___________________
Worried
By Spazkit ___________________
"Look Doc, whatever it is, I'm sure it's not a big deal, here," Race chided lightly over the intercom. Snow drifted lazily outside before colliding violently with the cabin area's windows, brightening the already intense sky.
"Race, I'm serious. This is the second warning I've received from the White House," Benton Quest's voice buzzed back through the plane's control console. "Someone may have tampered with the plane."
Race frowned, and ran another brief diagnostic over the craft. "All things seem to be in order up here, Doc, but alright. I'll contact the nearest landing strip. Course', who knows how far away it is. If you're so worried, then I'll put your mind at ease."
"Of course I'm worried!" Benton sighed audibly through the line. Shaking his head, Race glanced behind him for some back-up, but Jonny was out cold behind him and Jessie and Hadji were involved in some deep discussion, practically arguing.
Race had to smile. "Well then, don't worry doc, we're fine-"
The last word was clipped when suddenly, a warning light beeped to life on the console. Eyes narrowing, Race leaned forward to examine the problem.
"Race? What's that?" Quest asked quickly, his voice becoming more like static over the line.
"I don't know, looks like a problem with the engine or-"
A loud groan ripped through the cabin as the plane was jolted forwards. Jonny's eyes flew open and Jessie and Hadji cried out in surprise. Race's hands moved like lightning over the controls, attempting to right the sudden rapid decent of the plane. He was vaguely aware of the sudden smoke that filled the cabin, and then the console seemed to come forward to greet his face.
And then, all Race knew was darkness.
*******************
Exhaustion. Cold. Weight. A large weight, bearing down on his mind. It was intolerable torture; he just wanted to fall back to oblivion. Something told him he needed to awaken, but the darkness was too alluring, like a soothing blanket to his weakened thoughts.
"Race?" Jonny asked hastily when the older man's eyelids fluttered.
"Dad?" Jessie asked also, gently pulling Race's damp neck and head into her lap. Sinking her fingers into the threaded chord of muscle in his neck, she took his pulse and frowned. It had been two hours. Two hours since the damned plane crashed and two hours since Race, Hadji, Jonny and Jessie had been trapped beneath the ice.
"I don't know, Jonny," She whimpered softly, her eyes widening and brimming with tears. It had been two hours since Race had been conscious. Thrown forwards, his head had connected with the plane's control console with a sickening thud amongst the sound of straining metal. Jonny had found him, found him in a pool of scarlet blood. Even now, after they had wiped the fluid from his brow, his face looked pale and drawn. Shuddering, Jessie clutched the chilled man closely, brushing his cheek with her snow-covered hair.
The small cavern now called home was growing darker and night grew closer in Siberia. The plane had somehow malfunctioned. Jonny shuddered and tried not to think about it. Now was the time to focus on getting them /out/ of there alive.
A sheet of snow fell from the revealed plane doorway to the icy ground with a silent burst of movement, revealing Hadji as he emerged from the wrecked plane. Carrying a large bundle, he moved across the cavern to where the others huddled together for warmth. Settling down beside the sprawled form of Race, the dark skinned sixteen-year-old reached out a gloved hand to touch soft snow-colored hair. Filled with an obvious worry, Hadji dug through the survival pack he had rescued from the fallen plane, and retrieved a large thermal blanket. Without words, they knew who would be using it.
Jonny grunted, lifting Race's heavy body as Hadji slid the reflective material beneath it. Task done, they wrapped Race as you would a baby, all the while Jessie pressed his face against her lap. The unconscious man didn't make a sound, not even a groan as his limbs were enfolded and secured.
"I found this and activated it," Hadji said softly, as if the world of ice and cold would collapse around them if words were spoken above a whisper. In his hand he held a one-way emergency transmitter, now blinking in a regular rhythm. He placed the device on the ground with great care. It was their only hope; it was a hundred miles of snow and tundra until they might even catch a glimpse of civilization. Jonny watched the little red light blink on and off, his breath puffing silently before his face. Shivering, he knew there was nothing to do now but wait.
Jessie shuddered as well, and slid to lie beside her father. She tucked her nose in the crook of his neck, the tip touching the edge of the thermal blanket. Her body crushed the snow beneath, and despite the parka she wore, the chill sank deep into her bones. If she was this cold, so was Race. A new wave of concern wash over the girl, and she tucked a protective arm around his waist. Dad.
"It will be all right, Jessie," Hadji said with a warm smile as he sat cross-legged on the ground. Jonny sat beside Hadji, and the two teenagers took an unannounced first watch as night descended in Siberia.
It took perhaps the night, but after several hours, eyelids grew heavy with weariness. Jonny lay down, if only to rest his throbbing head. He curled up beside Jessie, his chilled body trembling. Time began to merge and blur, reality became what felt like a dream. He never remembered Hadji lying behind him, and never remembered closing his eyes to shield them from the coming day's brightness.
By the time the sounds of a chopper could be heard, the four were snuggled closely beside each other, craving and crushed together for warmth. Jonny blinked, frost beaded across his eyelashes. He barely registered the shadows moving across the cavern walls, barely even knew where he was. It was just. so cold.
His last conscious breath was the soft sigh of relief when the running form of Dr. Benton Quest sharpened in his fading vision.
Dr. Quest hissed, charging into the crash site. Followed by private physicians, his heart leapt into his raw throat when he saw the bluish tint that clamed his son's face. And Race. A large gash disappeared into his hairline, the wound still leaking minute drops of scarlet blood. All his family, his. life. lay here. Breath puffing in the air, he dropped to one knee and touched each face, as if lending his own warmth and strength to those fallen. His hand touched Race's cheek, the skin a deathly pallor, and a chill ran up his spine.
"Race?" Benton asked softly, worry etched in his voice.
Race swam in darkness, whispers of thoughts and awareness fleeting under the sweet seduction of sleep and rest. However. as time went on, or so he assumed, clear thoughts could be formed and things began to clear. Instant confusion infiltrated his mind and he reeled at the sheer intensity of it. Part of him was sure this was not right, part of him demanded immediate awareness to assess the situation. Another wanted only this comforting darkness. And in the end, his concern prevailed and his mind surged upwards, towards the waking world.
A groan worked its way through his aching body. Lights flashed before his vision, varying in color and intensity. Blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to clear his vision as well as his mind, Race returned to the world of the living.
And the first thing he knew, was that he was sick.
Fever burned his body with little compassion. He felt like he was down a dark tunnel, with reality trailing behind. Lights were too bright and the drone of what sounded like an engine was too loud. Engine? Where was he, wasn't he flying? Why the hell was he asleep at the wheel?
Concerned, he lifted his head, or tried too. Pain ricocheted off the walls of his skull like a Ping-Pong ball. He gasped and jammed his eyes shut, trying to evade the pain. A breathy moan entered his ears, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his.
Risking the pain, an eyelid fluttered open and race took in his surroundings. He. was in a dimly lit room, and resting comfortably on a large bed. Glancing down, he saw that Jessie was pressed closely beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. She moaned softly again, her slender hand coming to rest on his bare chest beneath the covers. Jessie?
Confused and concerned, Race wanted to ask what was wrong, but a fevered fog had again descended upon his already throbbing mind. Weakly, he turned his head to the left, and was assaulted with more worry when he saw Jonny strewn across an adjacent bed, his hand dangling laxly from the mattress. He was prepared to gather what strength he had and rise from the comfort of bed and Jessie's warmth to see just what the hell was going on, when suddenly, the room tilted to one side. As the center of gravity adjusted, it dawned on Race that. he was onboard a plane. The hum of the engine confirmed it. God, why was his thinking so distorted?
Again, he gathered his wits and jammed his eyes shut, trying to come forward. As he suspected, his brain was unhappy with his decision to sit up. Before he got too far, two warm hands braced his broad shoulders and forced him backwards. His brain was thankful and the throbbing decreased slightly when his head touched the pillow. He groaned and opened his eyes.
Benton sat beside him on the bed, both hands still on his shoulders. A soft smile lit the doctor's face. "Easy Race," he whispered softly, a thumb rubbing the confused man's collarbone.
"Benton?" Race croaked, surprised at the roughness of his voice. ".what?" he asked.
"Shh," the doctor soothed, hands leaving Race's shoulders to pull the covers back up. "There was an accident, but it's alright now," Benton explained quietly. He handed race a small glass of water, which the wounded and ill man took gratefully and drank, the cool liquid soothing his throat.
"Accident? I. don't remember-"
"I know," Benton said softly, reaching beside Race to Jessie, gently brushing back a strand of fire-red hair. "You hit your head pretty hard there, Race. Had me. worried."
Race blinked blearily, struggling to remember but wondering if it was worth the effort. "Everybody alright?"
Benton nodded. "A little cold, but alright. We got there in time. You, on the other hand."
Race removed his arm from the covers and waved a hand. "M'fine," he murmured softly, dropping the arm behind Jessie's head. Benton glared at the man for a moment, then decided berating him was futile, considering that Race probably didn't remember the crash at all anyway. Sighing, he sat beside Race for a few more minutes, watching as heavy eyelids fought to keep open.
"Get some sleep, Race. I want you up and healthy for our trip to Moscow."
"Ugh, no more snow, please," Jessie murmured from the crook of Race's neck and chin. Race tightened his arm around his daughter, his nose sinking into her hair. A few moments more, and both the bed's occupants breathed deep and regularly. Benton stood slowly, and paused before Jonny and Hadji's bed, dropping a kiss into soft blond and dark hair. As he turned and moved to walk between the beds, a sweaty hand grabbed at his arm. Dr. Quest looked down, surprised.
The doctor sat again on the edge of the bed, leaning down towards the pillows to hear. "Benton." Race breathed, sleep obviously clinging to his senses, sapphire eyes barely open. "I. should have been more careful, I."
Quest placed a cool hand on the bodyguard's forehead, drawing a moan from the man. The doctor ran his thumb over Race's eyebrow, and eyelids fluttered shut. Other hand still captured by the now-sleeping Race, Benton slowly lifted himself from the bed. Race groaned and rolled over, cradling Jessie. Benton shook his head.
"You had me worried." He murmured softly as he exited the plane's guest room, "But you always seem to pull through. I pray we should always be as lucky." Benton closed the door and let his family rest.
