Come Into These Arms
By Kay
Author's Notes: Ignoring the disclaimer-- see Chapter one if you're really concerned. ^^;; EEE! More David/Jalil! I am a pioneer on the EW slash realm! Or something like that. Really, C/J is better, but this fic's grown on me. Damn it.
... more slashy dark cuteness? In OOC style, although I'm using the excuse that anyone's mind would be messed up after being shut in a place like that for to long? Enjoy! ^_^ Ahh, lovely... rambling. I suck.
Jalil: Why is this chapter so long, yet says nothing?
David: She's good at that... as a reward, though, I get to do more cuddling with you next chapter.
Jalil: ... sneaky, evil woman.
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David's mind was slowly awakening, dusting at the edges of cobwebs scattered over his brain, and clearing the haze of sleep. It was a gently growing process, with tendrils of coherency curling around his thoughts. Finally, he managed to release one surprised, wondering realization out of his still-half asleep world.
It's so warm...
Considering this for a second, he felt confused. The last time he had been warm like this had been in his own bed, back at home with his mother. Blue electric blanket in the winter. Things he hadn't thought about for ages it felt, that swimmed in his mind with unfamiliar ease. And with that concern, he remembered where he was.
That's right. I'm in Everworld now, for good. There is no mom or room or bed, and definatly not blue electric blankets.
Slowly understanding the logic of it, he drew to a new problem and conclusion.
Where am I? It's warm, but very hard on my back... Stone. Granite. The Hetwens--?!
It came back in a flood, a sudden flash of comprehension, and David's eyes wrenched open from sleep-- only to meet darkness. The room they had been held in was no more lighter than it had been before, cloaked in shadow without any visibility whatsoever. For a second, his gaze searched frantically for any source of light.
We're still alive...
At least, he was. Hesitating, he tensed again, feeling the previous warmth-- and finally naming it. Remembering the way he'd fallen asleep, Jalil's body heat pressing against his side, he experimentally shifted.
It was warm because Jalil was still against him, of course. He relaxed, though feeling a little uneasy. The dark-eyed teenager was obviously asleep, melting against him like candle wax, pressing but not demanding. His head was laid on his shoulder securely-- and his breath was soft and barely noticable on his shirt. Still alive.
Slumping down against the granite again, David sighed warily, and closed his eyes. There wasn't any point in having them open, obviously.
Slept, but we're still alive. How much air do we have left? How long's it been since we were captured? Since we slept?
He toyed absently with the hilt of his sword, still left to him. Will they really just leave us here to die...? The thought created a sick lurch in his stomach.
As if hearing his thoughts, Jalil shifted slightly and mumbled something in his sleep. Settling down, David attempted to lay very still, although he wasn't sure why it mattered. It seemed like he was in a dreamworld. Or maybe he didn't want to loose the human contact in the darkness. It could have been that at least one of them deserved some rest before... whatever lay in store for them. Or maybe--
Forget it. Just don't wake him up, let him sleep. If Christopher and April come to rescue us-- and David refused to entertain that it was just a dim hope-- we'll need all the energy we can get. Just gotta wait.
Next to him, Jalil slept on, and breathed warmth against his shoulder. To David's surprise, the boy was practically curled up against him, as close as possible. Almost cat-like. The idea brought a small grin to his face.
He'll be embarrassed when he wakes up, but that's the least of my worries, David admitted to himself. Although he actually could really use some movement, considering the way his body was aching after sleeping on the stone all night-- or whatever long it had been. He quietly tried moving to stretch his aching muscles, reaching his arms high in the air and pressing his legs farther against the floor.
Jalil said something, muffled and low.
David froze momentarily, still stuck in his stretching position, as the boy fell silent again. After a long second, he slowly relaxed again, feeling Jalil's breathing even out and slow once more.
I wonder how much air we have left...? Maybe I should wake him up, then.
Hesitantly and with caution, David prodded the thin shoulder against him. "Uh... Jalil?" he whispered, wincing at the harshness his voice seemed to have in the silence.
"Jalil, man... time to wake up." A small groan answered him, and Jalil stirred slightly. "Hey, wake up!"
"Ungh..."
David felt the head on his shoulder lift up in confusion. Jalil, who took little time to recover from the realm of slumber and its effects, quickly processed their current position in his mind. He moved away off David faster than a snake recoiling from a bird of prey, shoving his back against the wall with a "thumpf!".
"Hey, it's just me!" David said quickly, trying to reassure the teenager. He reached out, fumbling in the dark and leaned forward. "It's David, remember? Hetwen? Prisoners? Probably going to die soon?"
Heavy breathing was his only answer for a moment. Then, slowly, "Yeah... I remember."
"Well, that's a relief."
Silence for a moment, followed by Jalil's soft sigh as he relaxed. "So... how long have I been asleep?" he asked casually, the tension in his voice betraying the calm tone. David blinked in the pitch blackness of their cell, considering.
"I don't know... it's been maybe, fifteen minutes since I woke up? Ten? Not long. Don't know how long I was sleeping either."
"Well, that settles it. You woke me up for nothing." But then Jalil laughed, a low and deep sound in the dark that echoed around them. It was a near comfort to hear such a familiar sound, and when they leaned back against the wall, side by side, it was with lighter hearts.
"Yeah, I guess I did," David said with a smile.
"The air doesn't feel strained in here," Jalil mused, fading back into contemplating seriousness. "It's fresh. Not stale. I didn't notice that last night."
"Say what?"
"There's an opening somewhere," he replied, though without much hope. "The only problem is, now that I've figured that out, I don't know where it would be. I didn't find anything when I checked. Although..."
David frowned, turning to look at him-- then remembering he couldn't. Feeling slightly unsettled, he repeated, "Although?"
"The ceiling."
"Huh?"
A loud and abrupt sound-- David realized the dark-eyed teenager had just snapped his fingers. "There must be some smaller openings in the ceiling! That let the air down inside. Like a jar with holes poked in the top to keep the, uh, lightening bugs alive."
"So we're bugs," the general groaned slightly. "Thanks. Always wanted to know how they felt."
Jalil chuckled lowly. "Well, now you know."
"So... there are holes in the ceiling, huh?" The young general peered through the darkness upwards, as though he could penetrate through to the top. "That doesn't really help us much if we can't reach them. And even if we could, it's kind of pointless."
"You don't know that," Jalil protested. "We should still check it out."
Resisting the urge to smile, David shook his head, blue eyes closing again. "I thought you weren't the optimistic one here?"
"Oh shut up."
There was a general silence, as they both contemplated the ceiling above them. Then, with an air of impatience and exasperation, Jalil stood up with a scraping sound.
"Well," the dark-eyed teenager sighed. "Let's get to it."
"To what?" David asked, frowning and slowly getting to his feet. His muscles groaned with protest, creaking slightly as he straightened for the first time in hours. It was a good sensation to him, though, and he reveled in the physical confirmation that he was alive.
"What? Well, we're going to have to examine the ceiling," his companion replied crisply. Jalil paused for a second-- from what David could hear of his footsteps, he was walking further into the middle of the small room. "It's... not too far, I think, we might be able to get it if one of us is supported by the other... or maybe just a boost, it doesn't seem to echo loud enough for it to be very high..."
"Supported by the other?" David echoed, feeling a sinking feeling. "You aren't saying you're going to try lifting me up, are you?"
"... actually, I was thinking you lift me up," Jalil grumbled, a hint of embarrassment and frustration in his tone. "I'm lighter."
"Ah. Okay." Scratching his head, David looked up again. Still didn't see anything.
"So... so how are we doing this?"
Jalil was silent for a moment. Then, with a very humiliated mutter, "I guess you'll have to lift me on your shoulders?"
"Ah. Okay."
Another pause.
"... Jalil, if you fall off and get a serious concussion, it's not my fault."
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Fifteen minutes later, David was more concerned with the fact that Jalil was really a lot heavier than he'd previously thought.
Oh sure, it looked as though he were all skin and bones. The dark-eyed boy was slender to a fault, with the most pronounced collarbone David had ever seen. Actually, David was fairly certain that he could circle Jalil's wrist with just one hand-- something he could do with few guys. All in all, he should have weighed less than a feather.
He didn't. David's back was going to break in five seconds.
"Jalil... christ, will you hurry up!?"
"I am!" the teenager perched on his shoulders snapped, sounding just as uncomfortable as he was. "I'm trying to figure out where the air's coming from!"
"Just hurry it up, then!" David bit back a groan and resisted the urge to dump the entire load of slender boy onto the floor. They'd considered forever how to do this, choosing in the end to have Jalil go up on David's shoulders, on his feet. Only it didn't go as planned. The first time, Jalil fell off-- and cursed fluently at David. The second attempt involved him managing to stand on his shoulders, but then being unable to keep his balance. That idea was thrown out.
Finally, they ended up just letting Jalil sit on David, to explain basically. He squatted and Jalil wrapped his legs over his shoulders, awkwardly trying to position his weight. Which had no effect except that which nearly snapped David's neck in half.
Now, he was trying to ignore the fact that Jalil's thighs were framing his neck, and being glad the darkness hid the huge blush he had on his face. This was not comfortable. Nor was it safe. And for him, it was really, really painful.
"I'm never doing this again."
"I know," Jalil said impatiently. "Just hold still-- and... okay, okay, let me down."
"What?!"
"I'm gonna fall, you jackass! Just put me down!"
David attempted to lift his head a little, peering up through the blackness-- which caused off a chain reaction. Immeadiatly, Jalil slid backwards.
"H-hey, wait... David, I'm-- oomph!"
The weight slid off his shoulders, and a loud thud echoed thoroughout the room.
There was a moment of terrified, frozen silence. A million thoughts ran through the young general's head at once, most of them centered on the fact that he probably had killed the only other living person for miles.
"Jalil? Jalil, man, answer me!"
After a long, frightening second, when there was no immeadiate answer, David kneeled to the ground and began groping out in the darkness. His fingertips touched nothing, no body warmth or fallen comrade at all. In rising desperation, he turned to the opposite side, fumbling in the shadows.
"Jalil!"
There. Brushing against cloth. David lunged forward on his knees, grasping the limb he'd found, and quickly deciding it was his shoulder. He leaned down, hesitantly reaching for where his friend's head should be--
"Nngh... bastard..."
Relief. Relief so large, so overwhelmingly sweet that it crashed like a tidal wave over David's panicked mind. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Jalil... Jalil, man, you okay? It's David, answer me!"
Shakily, in a slow and drawn out voice, Jalil answered. "... yeah. My head... hurts."
"How bad is it?"
He felt one of the arms shift near his other hand, and realized he was probably leaning right above Jalil's face. Feeling his face burn, although he wasn't sure why, he moved back slightly. Jalil took no notice of his sudden uncomfortable silence-- he was attempting to get up. The attempt seemed to falter, however, and he sank back to the stone with a loud groan.
"God... get the number... of the freakin' bus that hit me..."
David managed to crack a grin. "Well, you sound okay."
"No thanks... to you," grumbled Jalil. David could hear him as he sat up again, this time more successfully. The young scientist let out a drawn moan of pain, followed by a rather cross, "I think I'm bleeding."
"Sorry."
"Better be... ungh, that hurts. Everything hurts. Never, ever doin' that again..."
David gently reached out, feeling resistance and recognizing it as Jalil's neck. He moved up and carefully felt around his head, listening to the boy huff and hiss in pain. "You might have a concussion... but, uh, I don't know. How is it?"
"Not a concussion. Still hurts. Stupid floor," Jalil mumbled. He swatted his friend's wandering hands away, but not harshly. "I'll live, don't worry."
"For a while at least," David replied absently. He glanced up at the cieling, shivering at the odd feeling he had once he remembered he couldn't see it anyway. "Did you find anything, or have we busted your head open for nothing?"
"Not for nothing," the other youth murmered, still sounding pained. "I figured out where the air's coming from. There are... holes in the ceiling. Like the size of golfballs or something. Circular, maybe a few inches in diameter. There's cold air coming through there..."
"So we won't die of suffocation."
"Nope. Just starvation and dehydration, if we're lucky."
David sighed heavily. "That's just great. Suddenly, I'm really glad I'm not a Viking, because they'd really hate this."
"And we don't?" echoed Jalil in amusement. David started as he realized the other boy had stood up sometime while he was speaking, and his voice came from above. He felt a thin hand clasp his shoulder.
"Huh?"
"Come on, I'll help you up."
"Aren't you the injured one?" he asked, but took the offered hand anyway, and stood. The muscles in his calves protested madly, but the sensation made him feel better.
As they straightened together, a strange sort of feeling washed over David, something he would have matched akin to homesickness, but not quite. They stood in the dark a moment, hands still carefully entwined, silent. Jalil's fingers were smaller than his, warmer. They weren't as rough as his own, which were full of callouses from labor and the sword-hilt, but not as smooth as April's soft ones. Agile fingers.
'Like a pianist,' he thought distantly, remembering a time far away in his old world, when his uncle had played for him. It had been years, back when the sight of those fingers moving like quickened liquid gold across the keys, had still been magical. 'He would make a great musician, if he had more emotion and passion.'
As soon as he'd thought it, David blinked, snapping out of his daze. The stone room was still with the exception of their harsh breathing. Still holding hands, too, he realized. The young general fought the urge to flush, instead pushing away the unsettling confusion that was suddenly clouding his mind.
What exactly's going on here?
He let go.
The air around them was heavier than the stones surrounding it.
"Well," David said in a falsely light tone. "I told you it wasn't my fault if you fell and got a concussion."
The spell broken, Jalil laughed loudly. "Oh, yeah, but I'm still blaming you. I did tell you to put me down."
"And I did! Just... not how you expected, that's all."
"How dare you," the dark-eyed boy mocked lightly. "Making fun of an injured man. You're the lowest, Levin."
"Yeah, that's me." David grinned warmly into the pitch blackness embracing them, and shook his head. "Heh..."
At least I know one thing, he later thought to himself, listening to Jalil's breathing in the endless expanse of shadow surrounding them. His fingers twitched, curling in on themselves, and he sighed softly.
At least I'm not alone... and at least it was him.
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To Be Continued: I didn't like this part. Mwergh. *sulks* Oh well.
Next time we actually get some action! YAY!
David: You mean I get laid? *eyes light up*
... uh, no. Not yet, at least. I mean... okay, so some girl did tell me to make this a lemon, and I did consider doing it, until I remembered my lemons suck and I would be mortified to make one... but... no, David. No action like that. Maybe eventually. In a few chapters.
David: ... you suck.
^^;; Hope everyone enjoyed that! I promise to be faster next time, I just had writer's block... s'ank youuuu!
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