Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Mar 27, 2014 12:19:48 GMT 9.5
try not to mistake
WHAT YOU HAVE WITH WHAT YOU HATE
An many occasions, any outsider looking down upon the face of David Strider would not imagine him to be one to loose his cool too easily. Fear came to everyone, but some easier than others, and what chance was there that someone who spent every night hunting down monsters unseen to the average human eye would be scared by such trivial things as what was playing out before him? Many would think that he would not be categorized under this group of people who panics at such insignificant things. However, if he were honest with himself and those around him, when was Dave not scared? Was there ever a time in his life when one thing or another was dragging down his conscious, making him fret for his well-being and the well-being of others? Even before he'd contracted, before he'd spent years in and out of the hospital, wasn't ever waking minute spent being afraid of his brother leaving him because he was such a failure. Funny. In the end, that was exactly what happened. In fact, almost everything he feared turned out to be the inevitable. Did that mean that his worries about John would be the same? They must have been; even through the darkness starting to cloud around the corners of his sight – whether it was from the serious injury to his head or the darkness consuming his soul and threatening to turn him into something rather atrocious, he wasn't quite sure – there was no doubt in his mind that John was standing there, Doc Scratch at his feet with that ever present smile on his face as he eyed them both expectantly.
Poker face nothing but a distant dream, shades shattered and not covering partially glazed over crimson eyes, Dave said, “John,” finding his voice cracking from countless shed tears in just the past day alone and what would have easily been a fatal injury had any human endured it, “John, what are you doing...? John, stop...!”
For once, the boy did not smile, both in the literal sense and in... well, with John, there always seemed to be at least a bit of amusement and trickery to be seen swirling around in his eyes. However, as the raven-haired male strode over in long steps and those blue hues became clearer and clearer, all of that was robbed. Instead, init's place stood something that alone sent even more shivers down Dave's spine: fierce determination. No. This couldn't be happen, John couldn't have – But the signs where all there and Scratch was at his feet and why else would he be there if he hadn't contracted and no, John, why, why, why, why, why, I told you no, I told you to stop, can't you see that I'm trying to – And at that moment, he knelt down beside the blond's mostly limp body, not even assisting by lifting the rubble that trapped his leg and kept him there, but instead cradling his head in what was a rather comforting manner. That was, would have been had it not been for what the boy whispered into his ear. “You know that thing you've been specifically telling me not to do all series?” he said and a pang of happiness washed over the older of the two as he realized that he had no, in fact contracted. Of course, that coupled with the words only meant that - “Yeah, I'm going to do it.”
“Joooooooohn...!” the Strider protested weakly, reaching out to him as he rose to both feet and turned toward the green-suited alien behind them.
“Hear my words, freaky cat thing from outer space!”
“I can't stinking believe this is happening, I am so done,” he murmered through gritted teeth. If only he hadn't been so stupid and left himself wide open. If only he had been more observant; at least then his leg wouldn't be caught and he'd be able to stop all this nonsense from happening again. However, there was no time to focus on that. The only thing there was to focus on at the moment was the demand John shouted at Doc Scratch, loud and filled with such meaning and determination that it almost made him want to break down into tears once more. Because, no matter what he told himself, this nonsense was happening again, and this time he couldn't – If he went back, it'd only get -
And so John shouted.
“Give me the magics!”
And so the Doctor granted that request.
And so Dave was met with the horrible fact once again that he had failed so spectacularly that John was going to die once more and, well -
This time there wasn't a single thing he could do.