More Human
A series of AU drabbles based off Blade Runner.
#1. Wild Horses
That night he dreamed of horses. They ran up and down the ploughed fields that fringed Baticul City, turning up the fertile dirt, churning the mess around, all straggling vines and newly budded flower, all rain damp soil still crawling with the peach pale worms. All things wild and woken flowed free, and he was in them all, and he was all things. Near the quivering range of his vision he saw flashes of the red flame, swaying with the dancing trees. He reached out to touch it. It was with him them, and he was alight with the breath and burning skin and desire.
A voice called to him, saying It is you! The light of the sacred flame! Then he woke up.
Guy was standing near the open door, balancing the plates of breakfast and steaming coffee. His eyes were not on Luke. In his half bleary and still dreaming state, Luke couldn't tell if he was looking through the window or glaring down the sun.
" Why bring breakfast?"
Cleaned and dressed and sitting in the patio garden, Luke could only remember small moments of that morning. Guy leaned his head back, sighed. " You know your parents always prefer the main table clean for Mr. Van." Luke acknowledged this with a nod, mouth too full of toast. Guy continued " It's also easier to wake you up if I bring bacon."
Luke nodded again, lazily, still clinging to the feeling of the warm bed he'd left behind. Outside there was a chill, no sun and that god damned smell of ship exhaust that turned his stomach foul. " There is no reason in this whole entire world why I should have to wake up to begin with."
Guy's smile was sunny enough, at least. Fake as hell. But bright. " Master Van wanted to see you about something."
At last! Luke brushed away the toast crumbs and heaved himself up from the pouf. " It's about time! It's been weeks!" He stretched for a beat and yawned, then scurried back inside his room. " Wait till he sees all we've practiced – I can't wait to show him that one move, uh..." His head popped back outside, seeking out Guy, who was clearing the table away. " What did you call it?"
" Demon Fang."
" Hah hah, yeah. That's too corny, though. We'll need to change it."
" Yes, Master Luke."
He ducked back inside and began rummaging through his closet. Hidden there behind some heavy sports coats was a long white case. With Guy's help, he hauled it up on the bed and popped the thick plastic clasps. Guy whistled. " How long were you polishing it? Thing shines like the hood of a Chesedonian A-40."
Luke made a show of rolling his eyes. " No more car references, I'm begging you." He took the sword hilt in his hands, feeling the unit's weight. It felt heavier today, somehow. And yes, oh gods, it shone. " I only polish it that much because I care, you know. I have a talent." It sounded childish, he knew, but it was also true. Master Van had told him so.
He flicked the sword on and off a few times, watching the florescent blade whip through the stale, temperature controlled air. The sword's generated heat warmed the space around him, the buzzing engine inside warmed his hand. The day itself seemed much more golden, openly inviting, waiting for him to rise up and face it. With a small smile he turned the weapon off, clicked the safety switch and packaged the case back together. Then he carried it himself, waving Guy off when he offered to help, and together they hurried off to the main house.
The dream was gone. Somewhere off in the distance, a woman started singing. Luke's footsteps faltered slightly, but before he could remember where he'd heard the song before, Guy was pushing him on.