Title: Dunno, feel free to suggest something.
Author: Aviy
Characters: Flik, Viktor
Disclaimer: Writing mine, characters not.
Notes: Er..none really. Flik and Vik started arguing in my head, this is the result.
CC is much loved.
"Viktor?" Flik wasn't entirely sure he'd actually spoken. He could hear, but sounds came haphazardly and confused his senses. When Viktor spoke, Flik seemed to instead feel the words, or perhaps even remember them.
"Yeah?"
And it was probably a good thing that the younger man was doubting his senses, or else he'd think that Viktor actually dared to sound bored by the current situation.
"I hate you." He tried to sound venomous. God knows if he was going to die out here, in the middle of the night on a moonless wasteland, he wanted the other to know how sincenely he blamed him.
"I know."
Flik focused harder on the second response, forcing useless noise to converge and make sense, and was infuriated to find Viktor really did sound bored.
"And-" And everything hurt. Even the pale starlight was enough to pain his eyes, but not as much as the effort of trying to hold his eyelids closed. Secretly, Flik was grateful for Viktor's shaggy black mane, which admittibly stunk, but provided a dark canopy to hide his face in. It was one less pain among a thousand others - the lightning rune on his hand even throbbed - but he would take what he could get. Albeit while still complaining as much as he could find the strength for.
Viktor apparently grew tired of waiting for Flik to finish grappling with his agony and return to the subject at hand. He supplied the next part himself. "This is all my fault."
Flik might have frowned, but such unnecessary muscle movement didn't seem like a feasible option. "That's right."
And they were silent for a while, listening to the sound of Flik's shallow, rasping breaths and Viktor's steady but heavy ones. Sound began to drift out of focus again, and the blue clad warrior fought to get it back. Anything to take his mind away from the icy pain lancing through every muscle in his body. Even for just a moment.
"You're forgetting one."
It took a while to put Viktor's words together, and even when he'd succeeded it didn't make any sense. Flik thought about frowning again, and once more declined.
"You'll never forgive me."
Oh yeah "...right. That too." There was a significant pause while the younger of them considered what this meant, but the fever, on top of everything else, caused logic to elude him. "How'd you know?"
Viktor laughed, the sound made hoarse by his own exhaustian combined with the considerable weight he was carrying. "'Cause this is the fifth time tonight we've had this conversation."
Flik thought about that. "Really?"
"Yeah. Though you must be feeling better-"
"No, I'm not."
"-'cause you usually pass out by now."
Which actually sounded like a very good idea, but considering the way things had been going for him since they entered these blasted badlands, he sincerely doubted that any god would grant him the mercy of a few moments unconsciousness. Flik would have traded a great deal to have had the wisdom two weeks ago to simply follow his instincts and kick Viktor in the ass and walk away for even suggesting that they walk to Jowston, instead of taking the goddamn boat. Lacking the strength to fully snarl, Flik hissed.
"Adventure."
He must have really expected Flik to have dropped off already, because Viktor started when Flik finally spoke again, causing the man he was carrying to gasp painfully at the sharp movement. "Er, sorry. What?"
"That," Flik explained, "is why you brought me here. Isn't it?" He licked his lips, a useless movement since he couldn't seem to remember having ever had a drink of water. "Glory, adventure. Bragging rights?"
Viktor coughed. "You should probably rest, Flik. Can't make out what you're saying anymore."
The young warrior spent the next ten minutes drifting through a haze of pain and trying to gather the strength to hit Viktor, or at least kick him in the side. It only seemed fair, really. But at least he was thankful that the poison-brought illness had dulled his senses too much to propperly appriciate the man's smell. Which didn't mean he wasn't going to force him to get groomed once they reached civilization. If he was still alive to make sure it got done at all.
Through strands of black hair he watched blurry vegatation slowly pass by. Despite how long they'd apparently been like this, it was the first time Flik really realized that Viktor was carrying him, and what that indicated.
"Why..." Closing his eyes tightly, Flik forced himself to pull in a slow, long breath. The last word had come out as no more than a wheeze of air, and even when he was trying hard he doubted the older man would be able to hear him if not for the fact that he was right at the Viktor's back. Which lead to his question. "Why are we moving?"
Viktor didn't start this time, just bent to hitch the other higher onto his back with a grunt before answering. Which was fine, since the particular movement had chased away all coherancy from Flik's mind for long, painfilled seconds. He stopped breathing and waited for it to subside. When it had, Viktor answered. "Running out of medicine to keep you alive, and the effects were only getting worse. Gotta take the risk of trying to get you to a village."
That probably made sense. Flik seemed to recall Viktor telling him, days or weeks ago, he wasn't sure, that they were most of the way through the badlands. But by then he'd already been stung by that...scorpion-spider demon bug. Still, he couldn't imagine how Viktor could carry him and their supplies and hope to dodge the vicious wildlife. All this meant was that they would both die a little closer to the boarder.
But then...if he was on Viktor's back where...?
"Viktor."
A sigh this time. "I know."
Flik actually managed to find the strength to...not kick him, but nudge him solidly. Viktor didn't seem to notice. "Not that."
"What then?"
"Where..." Even without being able to see anything from the dark nest of Viktor's hair, Flik could still feel his vision blacking out. "Where are the supplies."
Another long pause, and Flik began to wonder if he really couldn't be heard anymore, or if maybe he was only daydreaming that he was speaking. Finally the other replied. "Had to leave em. Don't worry though. I got the rest of the medicine, and some food you're going to try and refuse to eat anyway."
Had to leave...? That was...bad...Something inside Flik churred unhappily. It took him nearly fifteen seconds of hard thinking before he realized why. Odessa! "My sword!" He was sure he heard his voice break, from pain or panic was anyone's guess.
Viktor only snorted, and if Flik wasn't on the verge of death he would have punched him in a heartbeat. But then the other leaned forward a bit, shifting Flik's weight, and a calloused hand found his. Viktor, with surprising gentleness, guided the younger man's hand down to his left hip, where Odessa was strapped alongside the Star Dragon Sword. "Don't be stupid." And if not for everything else, Flik would have been unnerved by the fondness in his voice.
They began walking again, and Flik eventually relaxed against the Viktor's back. "Sorry." And that probably was too soft to hear, but he meant it anyway.
A tiny pause between one step and the next. "Heh."
"This is still your fault." Flik assured.
"Yeah, yeah. Why don't you go back to sleep before you waste all your energy? I'm not giving you a free ride out of here if you die on me."
But that had already happened, with Flik's hand still wrapped loosely around Odessa's hilt and his forehead resting on Viktor's shoulder.
