Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters. Wishful thinking aside.
Warnings: This story is a Parrish/Lorne. Thus this fiction will contain allusions to a pre-slash relationship. This fiction also contains adult language and adult situations.
Author's note #1: This is a horrendously late response to a prompt for the Thing-a-Thon on the LJ community: Parrish_Lorne. The prompt goes as follows: "Lorne/Parrish - Parrish is a vampire"
Before the Blood Dries
Chapter Four
He found his tongue somewhere in the intervening moments, mind spiraling outward as reality proved almost impossible to avoid. Startling the both of them as he almost snarled into the stillness. Unable to stop the sound as his canines shivered, throbbing just underneath the gums as the man pulled the last makeshift bandage tight around the wound. Shredding the torn flesh even further as the man's well meant actions nearly sent him over the edge.
A genuine, pain-filled grimace flashed across his face, before he could push it back. Collecting what was left of his control before he forced his eyes to focus, meeting the man's gaze with as much strength as he could muster. Not even noticing the action as one of his blood smeared hands curled around the Major's bicep. Dripping fingers inadvertently smearing danger red across the Major's lightly tanned flesh. - As if trying to prove his point through the strength of the action itself as he readied himself to speak.
"Major.. - Just..Go. Bring back a medical team. You can get there and back on foot in time." He hissed, clutched onto a final ray of hope as the man riffled through his pack. Vaguely thinking that with the man gone he could remove the stake and drain some small creature, enough to lessen the damage to something a human could plausibly recover from. A proverbial long shot of course, but it was all he had.
Under the circumstances it was a damn good plan. - Inspired, risky, but admittedly brilliant. Especially considering he had a massive shard of tree trunk shoved clear through his chest cavity and was likely suffering from a rather dangerous amount of blood loss by now. Even for him.
However said plan had one, rather fatal flaw. - Lorne wasn't going for it.
The man was as handsome as he was stubborn.
"What? No way Doc. I'm not leaving you. I'll drag your skinny ass all the way to the gate if I have to. - Beckett is going patch you right up, and then you and I are going to have a long…long talk about scientist versus soldier dynamics." Lorne began. Blood speckled arms tensing under his tenuous hold he refused to let the man go. Frustration rising as Lorne all but bull dozed through his spluttering attempts to change his mind.
"I'm the one that's supposed to be saving your ass, remember?" The man finished shakily, eyes blood shot and blown far too wide as panicked fingered drew the last knot of bandages just a little bit tighter around him.
He could have cursed.
"Major..Lorne. I'll be fine.But you need to get Beckett -." He tried, only to get cut off a second later as the man's fingers curled around his shoulders.
"You get that right out of your head, Doc. I've got you." The man affirmed, hands wrapping around his shoulders as he supported his neck through a sudden hacking cough. Spitting up blood and god knows what else as a steady stream started to dribble out the corners of his mouth.
He was running out of time..
It was useless to argue, that much was abundantly clear. He could see it in the man's eyes. - The hard headed finality of it. Whether the man was going to be true to his word and carry him back to Atlantis bridal style, or stay with him till the end, the conclusion was the same. The man wasn't going anywhere.
– Stupid, insufferable jackass that he was…
"I guess that's what I get for breaking the mould." He ventured jokingly. Liquid gurgling worrisomely all the way up his windpipe as he coughed out the last few words. Regretting his attempt at levity a moment later when Lorne looked stricken.
Way to bring on the confidence David.
He heard the man's breathing hitch. Muttering just under his breath as he cast his eyes around them, looking for anything to aid them as the Lorne's fingers dug deep into lean length of his shoulder. The action thoughtless and desperate in it's sincerity as the man wormed closer to his side, as if by mere presence alone he could somehow keep him from slipping away.
And in spite of it all, he couldn't help but smile, the emotion tugging the corners of his lips upwards in a wry little grin. He'd been a vampire for over hundred and fifteen years and a human for little more then thirty. And in all that time, he'd never met anyone quite like Major Evan Lorne.
He'd outlived many friends, his family, and past lovers. He'd buried them, kept them safe, and had loved them all very deeply. But this..this was different. It had been from the very beginning. He couldn't place it. He couldn't define it. He just knew.
– And that was why he hadn't been able to help himself. He never had. Not when it came to Lorne. - Because like a moth to the flame, he'd willingly courted disaster. Regardless of the cost. Regardless of the risks and the reality of what he was. He'd been too greedy, and ultimately too damn selfish to do the right thing and just let the man go. To feign disinterest and distance, if he had perhaps they wouldn't have been stuck in this mess. Maybe if he'd-
But in the end it didn't matter, all the excuses and wishes that things could have turned out differently. None of it. Because this was his fault, these were the consequences of his actions and his alone. And now he had to face them.
And yet…
- Funny how he couldn't even bring himself to regret it, regardless of the cost. God help him but he didn't regret a god damned second.
…Because somehow, in spite of it all, it really didn't seem so strange that it would be Evan. That a hundred and fifteen years of lies and secrecy, half truths and painstaking care would all come down to this moment. Where blue eyes met blue eyes as each of them fell apart in their own separate way.
The fates had always had a wicked sense of humor, tricky bastards that they were. – After all they created him. A long-limbed, sun kissed, hyper active disaster of a vampire. Who was undeniably and quite inexcusably enamored with a certain muscle bound Major, a solider with an artist's soul. - If that wasn't fuel to the fires of irony he didn't know what was.
A/N: Please let me know what you think? Or indeed if I should continue? Reviews and constructive critiquing are love!
"The boundaries between life and death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends and where the other begins?" - Edgar Allen Poe