Astranite asked: For the Febuwhump, if you wish :) DAY 14: blood-stained tiles with John.
Characters: John, Scott
Warnings: Self harm. Mentions of blood.
John bit his tongue and endured.
Another day without news.
Another day watching his brothers tear themselves apart.
Another day trapped on Five.
No. No, that wasn't fair. His being up on Five was John's own choice. He had algorithms to create, searches to run.
Their father to find.
A scream built up but he didn't let it loose, swallowing it down like a bitter pill. Only, this wasn't going to get better.
He'd been monitoring their Dad and Scott on the mission. He'd listened as they bantered in One, all light-hearted and happy. How when their Godmother, Colonel Casey, had filled them in a little more on the potential issues of this launch not going well the two of them argued over who would go aboard in the event of that being necessary. Dad had eventually pulled rank.
So when the Zero-X exploded with their Dad still onboard Scott was flying beside the ship, about to pull One into a position where he could board the ship too.
The shockwave from the explosion pushed One and the GDF ships away and all John could hear was Scott screaming for their father until the sound overwhelmed him.
John came to later – he didn't know how much later – in Five's bathroom. The tiles were smeared with blood and his knuckles were skinned and raw.
Virgil's voice broke through the screaming in his head and John moved. He had work to do. He needed to get Scott home. He needed…needed…he needed to get Scott home. Yeah. Get Scott home.
It became the only thing he was conscious of. Tearing Scott away from the…crash site? Should he even call it that? Whatever it was, John needed Scott home. Not for himself but for their brothers. Alan would need Scott now. They all would.
It had taken some time, but eventually Scott had agreed to come home, once One was so low on fuel there was literally a danger that she might not make it home completely. But of course Scott could eke out just enough to get his bird home.
Over the next few weeks the blood on the tiles became a more frequent coping technique, one that John was never aware of until he came to on the floor.
And then Scott called.
In person. In Three. Alone.
He must have overridden the codes to gain entry since John came to with Scott hauling him to his feet and into the kitchen. Nothing was said as Scott gently swabbed and bandaged his hands. He then led an unresisting John straight onto Three and strapped him in. Not even the locking down of Five or Three re-entering the atmosphere 'woke' John.
Nothing got through to John until Scott had landed and enfolded him into a hug. They were swiftly joined by the rest of the family and John gradually felt himself unwind in their warmth and love.
Gradually his brothers left and it was just John and Scott in the hug.
And finally the tears came.