Day Twenty-Seven: Get It Over With
For such-a-random-rambler who asked for John
Trope: You're facing certain death. Perhaps you're gravely wounded; perhaps you have no reinforcements and can expect no rescue; perhaps you face overwhelming force. Your life can be measured in heartbeats. You expect to die before you finish the very thought you're thinki—
—except that your killer is just standing there, standing there, waiting for his moment. Waiting for an unreasonably long time.
Defiant to the End, you shout at him to get it over with. You tell him to be done with it. You demand to know what he is waiting for. You accuse him of prolonging your misery for his amusement, you accuse the bystanders as having Come to Gawk, et cetera.
Rather frequently, here is where you receive the surprising news that you will live, which can be because of a variety of reasons. Perhaps your enemy is honorable and/or impressed by your courage, or perhaps it's because you are needed. Or maybe you were mistaken about who was your enemy, because of the way you were lied to about this character. (Or perhaps they know that you'd rather die than suffer the humiliation of having to live with the loss.)
Characters: John, The Hood, Scott,
Warnings: Explosion, Gunshot, Blood, Pipe
He'd dragged himself into a corner, his shoulder screaming at him. There wasn't anywhere else he could go now. He ran his tongue over his teeth and rolled the liquid in his mouth before spitting out blood.
There was a weird sense of peace that came over him.
He was going to die.
Huh.
Ironic.
John had always expected to be the last one of his brothers to go, being the one who rarely came dirtside. He'd believed that Scott would be the first – either because of his hotheaded and recklessness or because of his self-sacrificing nature.
Not himself, not on the first Earth-bound rescue he'd been on for months.
Damn Chaos Crew. Damn Fuse and his penchant for explosions. Damn Havoc and her coding knowledge causing this comms blackout.
Damn Hood and his gun.
That thought made John wonder where his brothers were. He'd not seen or heard anything since the last explosion had separated him from Scott. He'd been digging where he thought his brother was when the Hood had shot him without warning.
John had spun when the bullet hit his shoulder to see the man grinning at him. He had stumbled away to where he was now, desperate to lead the Hood away from his brother in the hope that Virgil, Gordon and Alan would be able to find him. If they were even in a position to.
Quiet footsteps soon let him know that he was not alone, and he watched the man that had already destroyed their family once come to a stop in front of him. He clamped his hand over the wound and stared.
'Well, well. You were not the Tracy I was expecting.'
'Sorry to disappoint you.'
'Oh, I am far from disappointed, John. Though I would have been happier with your brother, Scott.'
'Once again, sorry to disappoint you.'
The Hood regarded him for a moment. John could almost hear the gears turning as the man decided what he was going to do. But the man surprised him by stepping back and turning to look at the debris that had buried Scott. He returned to stand staring at John, this time a wide grin on his face.
'Oh, it looks like my task has been done for me.'
John swallowed. The bastard had been after Scott – again. Only this time, it looked like he'd succeeded. He watched with narrow eyes as the man raised his gun again.
He wasn't going to flinch or look away, wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction. But the Hood just stood there, pointing the gun at him and grinning.
'Well, go on then, shoot me!'
The Hood just grinned wider and flicked the safety off, pointing it unwaveringly. John was beginning to get annoyed.
'Shoot me! SHOOT ME!'
He was heaving as he shouted, fully aware that he was just delighting the Hood more as he shouted. Blood splattered as he spoke.
'Shoot me.'
'Oh no. I don't think so. Your desperation to keep my attention on you so I don't go check on your brothers is sickening. Fortunately for me I do not need to shoot you again.'
He flicked the safety on and pocketed the gun.
'Two down, three to go.'
John screamed.
'You leave them alone!'
'Oh? Are you going to make me?'
'No, he's not. I am!'
As the Hood turned Scott smacked him around the face with the length of pipe he was carrying, knocking the man out.
John stared at his brother. Scott stood there, swaying and covered in blood and dust and rubble. He paused a moment, dropped the pipe he'd used one handed like a baseball bat and then made his way over and collapsed next to him.
'You look like s***, Scott.'
'You should see yourself, Johnny.'
'Not dead yet then?'
'Nope.'
'Me neither.'
They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, gently chuckling as they waited for their brothers to come and find them
