John Murphy [The 100] (thefleimkepa) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2020-05-20 10:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | !trigger warning, alex, john murphy, nathaniel (john mandrake) |
Who: Nathaniel and John (and Alex)
What: Waking up in a bad way
Where: Nathaniel’s place
When: Middle of the night, May 20
Warnings: Dream based on The 100 1x04: Murphy’s Law, in which Murphy is unceremoniously tried and sentenced to hanging by his peers; extreme violence.
Status: Complete
Staying the night at Nathaniel’s was an impulse decision. Time had a way of passing unnoticed when they were together, at least in John’s mind, and it was well after midnight before he knew it. So he’d stayed, rather than trudge home in the dark of night.
It turned out to be a fated decision. He hadn’t dreamed any of the weird space life dreams as he had decided to call them, for several nights. The last he’d dreamed of it, his dream persona had shown out to be a right prick, power hungry and acting the bully to make himself feel better which John could not relate to at all, and found repulsive in waking. But nothing had really happened, aside from that other kid getting attacked, and the acid fog rolling through, but they had the drop ship to protect them. He’d naively thought maybe the dreams weren’t so bad despite waking from one with a telemetric wrist band and another with a crude handmade knife in his hands..
He woke with a start just before dawn. Eyes wide, scream muffled by something shoved down his throat. His entire body burned, muscles he didn’t even know he had ached. In the dream, he’d been accused of murder. He hadn’t dreamed the murder, and was pretty sure that his bastard dream self hadn’t done the deed, but he’d been confronted by Clarke, Clarke of all people! and the other kids had formed a mob that attacked, bound, and hanged him in a matter of minutes.
He could still feel the noose around his neck, and his hands were bound behind his back. He tasted blood and mud and fear in his mouth, and the chanting of the angry mob rang in his otherwise deaf ears.
***
Being around John was easy, especially now that Nathaniel’s ASL vocabulary was expanding and he’d taken the liberty of learning other forms of sign language, too. Despite the distinct feeling that John wasn’t really interested in knowing Nathaniel beyond the superficial, Nathaniel still enjoyed spending time with him and talking a lot about….well, John. That was alright, he guessed, just not much in the way of any romantic growth.
So those excited feelings began to fizz and gave way to a good friend instead of a potential boyfriend which Nathaniel really didn’t need anyway. A friend who seemed to have a lot on his mind from his dreams. Nathaniel didn’t talk about his own, letting John work through what sounded like troubled dreams so far. There had been a device around John’s wrist and Nathaniel felt guilty for not being the one who’d helped him remove it. Dan was a good choice, though. A good man. A man who could see the dead. Nova might not believe it, but the evidence was everywhere.
Nathaniel didn’t mind John staying with him that night, mostly because he wanted to be there if another bracelet ended up on John’s wrist. Nathaniel stayed awake past John, watching over him before sleep took him. His own sleep was relatively undisturbed. That was, until he woke up to the sounds of gagging.
And there was John, strangled, bound, and gagged in material Nathaniel wasn’t familiar with, but it didn’t matter. Nathaniel wasted no time in moving from where he’d fallen asleep on the other end of the sofa and quickly worked on the noose first and foremost, grabbing a pair of sharp scissors from the coffee table to snap it open instead of trying to struggle with the knot. The gag was next. He pulled at it, cradling John’s now bruised neck and jaw for leverage. He was unpanicked, but still had tears stinging at his own eyes. Later, he’d deal with the fear, but for now, he needed to get John out of this.
***
If John knew Nathaniel thought his interest was superficial, he’d be mortified. He didn’t realise he didn’t seem to show enough interest in Nathaniel, because he was very interested. He felt comfortable with him, to the point that he felt like he knew him and didn’t need to ask a lot of questions.
He didn’t make a sound, except for his breathing, as Nathaniel cut him loose. He was grateful for the care Nathaniel took in removing the noose. His neck felt like it was on fire, but Nathaniel’s hands were a soothing balm against that pain. He was incredibly grateful he wasn’t alone, waking up bound and gagged as he was. It had all happened so fast in the dream, and even now that he was awake, it felt so real. The very material feeling of the binding only reinforced the reality of it.
He didn’t dare try to speak, not knowing how his voice would sound and because his throat burned. His hands, though caked with mud, were relatively unharmed. His wrists throbbed, but his signing wasn’t compromised. They thought I killed someone. He didn’t quantify it as being part of the dream. He assumed that was a given. Nathaniel didn’t talk about his dreams much, but John knew he had them too, and that they felt as real as John’s own.
***
Just then, Nathaniel wasn’t terribly interested in anything but getting John free. The scissors were used on the binding around the man’s wrists and no sooner had John taken those breaths and signed what he was signing than Nathaniel put his arms around the man, his shoulders hitching as he pushed down a sob.
He whimpered softly against John’s ear. Good that John didn’t hear him. Maybe Nathaniel was wrong. Maybe he did have stronger feelings than he’d thought toward John. The thought of something happening to John…
He didn’t need or want to be held so he eased back and took John’s face between his hands to look at him, his heart aching when he saw bruises. He used one hand to indicate for John to give him a minute. In a bit, John could tell him about it, but Nathaniel was much more concerned with possible unseen injuries and he remembered a clinic Dan had told him about so it was Dan he called when he reached for his phone and Dan gave him the number of someone else to call. Nathaniel didn’t need to jot down the second number, he was dialing it before Dan even got a chance to say anything else. Alex, the man Dan told him to call, sounded sleepy, but promised to be there in a few minutes.
Nathaniel hung up and turned his attention back to John.
I just want to get you looked at, he signed. Who thought you killed someone?
***
John melted into the embrace, taking comfort in Nathaniel’s touch. At the same time, when Nathaniel pulled away and took out his phone, John used that time to try and pull himself together. Hos breath hitched, swallowing hurt, burned, made the fire in his throat burn out of control. His heart pounded in his chest, but he used deep breathing techniques to try and get himself to a calmer state. It helped the ache in his throat too.
His eyes closed briefly when Nathaniel’s attention turned back to him. He had no idea who Nathaniel had called, but he trusted Nathaniel, and didn’t question it. The other Delinquents. The kids from The Ark, His hands flew through the words. Dream me is a bastard, but I didn’t kill anyone. If they kill me, if I die in the dream…
He’d already woken up with a bracelet that was put on him in the dreams. He’d just woken up in the middle of a hanging, with all of the physical aspects as if it had happened to him in his real life. He hadn’t thought to ask on the network what happened when someone died in a dream. The fear he felt was very real and had him reaching out to Nathaniel, seeking comfort and reassurance in an embrace.
***
Being a beginner at ASL, it was challenging to make out what John was saying and the stress didn’t help any, but he still understood enough and nodded, then shook his head, emphatic.
Don’t say that, he said. Don’t fucking say that.
What was this? Freddy Krueger? No, John wasn’t going to die in his dreams. Nathaniel forbade it, or something.
Without hesitation, Nathaniel pulled John in against him, allowing the man to rest against his chest as his hand slid along John’s arm. John was small. So small. Nathaniel wasn’t a big bloke by any means, but he was tall and strong for a skinny whip. So it was alright to let John find comfort and safety here, where Nathaniel’s lips pressed against John’s damp hair.
A knock at the door startled Nathaniel a little, but he stayed unmoving and called for Alex to come in, partly scolding himself for not locking the door, a habit that still stayed with him from his small parish.
“You should lock the door,” Alex said and Nathaniel rolled his eyes. Alex didn’t look much like a doctor to him, but Nathaniel didn’t look like one either.
“What happened?” Alex asked as he sat his slender behind on the edge of Nathaniel’s coffee table.
“A dream,” Nathaniel answered as Alex slipped on a pair of gloves. He’d already briefed Alex that John was deaf.
“Hey, buddy,” Alex said. “You read lips?”
***
John pulled himself to sitting up when Nathaniel reacted to the knock at the door. John didn’t hear it, of course, but it took only a second or two to realise what was happening. He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair as Alex came in. John watched him, eyes focused on his face, and giving a nod when asked about reading lips.
The unfortunate part about that was that he would have to maintain focus. He couldn’t read lips if he wasn’t paying attention. All he really wanted to do was curl up against Nathaniel and sleep, but with sleep came dreams and he didn’t want to know where the current one was going to take him. He didn’t want to dream another dream ever again.
The thought of it caused his pulse to spike, the fear response jump starting his heart all over again. His hand grabbed at Nathaniel’s, seeking an anchor. God, he was such a pathetic mess. And for what? For something that wasn’t real. But it felt real, and his brain was struggling to make sense of it.
***
Nathaniel took that hand. It felt clammy and unsteady and he held it tighter as Alex took the other and slipped an oxymeter onto the index finger to get a reading.
“Try to relax,” Alex said and Nathaniel didn’t try to interpret, instead encouraging slower breaths by demonstrating them with his own breathing.
It’s okay, I’m here and you’re here, he signed with his free hand. It was a promise that he’d be John’s anchor and that he was no longer in those dreams. Not right now. They were both here. No Ark. Just them. He gestured to Alex to encourage John to see what Alex was saying.
Alex was putting his steth on and he gently urged John to lean forward. “It’s gonna be cold,” Alex warned. This time, Nathaniel did interpret since Alex’s mouth was hidden as Alex maneuvered around to reach John’s back so he could listen to the man’s lungs.
“Take a deep breath for me,” Alex instructed and again, Nathaniel interpreted.
***
John rarely considered his deafness as a handicap, but at the moment he was frustrated as hell that he couldn’t hear. That he had to try and focus when focus was damn near impossible for him to maintain. Having Nathaniel, solid and real, beside him made all the difference.
If he lived through this ordeal, he was going to have to find a way to thank Nathaniel for being his rock. He never intended to put the other through this, but there was no way he could have predicted this dreams would take a turn like this. He’d expected his dream self to get called out for his arrogance, he never would have dreamed he’d have suffered so brutally.
He jumped slightly, but the cold wasn’t unexpected. Even without the warning, he knew to expect it. His eyes closed, and he drew a breath that felt like dragging sandpaper across his throat. His lungs were clear, at least, though that felt like a small mercy.
Thank you, he signed, more to Nathaniel than Alex. He appreciated what Alex was doing, that he had come over at such short notice, but Nathaniel was the one John felt more grateful to.
***
Nothing felt normal. Nothing about this was, but Nathaniel tried to make it as normal as possible.
Alex went through the motions of listening to lungs and heart, then set his attentions on the injuries to John’s neck, mouth, and hands. With gloved hands, he touched very carefully, something deeply saddened in his gaze.
“These dreams can be fucking terrifying,” he said when he could see John’s gaze on his face. “The good news is, we all come out of it physically okay, in most cases.” Emotionally was apparently another issue. “You do have some lacerations and a fair amount of bruising, but nothing looks broken to me and your oxygen sat is a little lower than I like so is it alright if I give you a breathing treatment?”
***
John had suffered the usual bumps and bruises while growing up. He’d broken his leg once, even. But he’d never felt the full bodied ache like he felt now. He was in completely new, and terrifying, territory. Alex gave him hope that it was temporary, that he was going to heal from this, and he would be okay physically. Definitely not mentally. How could he be okay mentally, after what he’d just been though?
He nodded his head and his hand to give consent for a breathing treatment. He wasn’t sure how necessary it was, but then he wasn’t a medic. He had very limited medical knowledge, most of it coming from books he’d read, which may or may not have been accurate. Nathaniel had called Alex and asked him to come, so Nathaniel must trust him. Which meant John trusted him too.
***
“It’s just to open up the air passage,” Alex assured before he went into his bag to pull out a small machine with a tube attached to a mouthpiece.
Nathaniel was staring at John, rubbing his hand along the man’s thigh, needing to touch him. What had happened? Oh, God, what if it was Nathaniel’s fault? What if being here had triggered this? What if what if what if.
Alex inserted an oxygen cartridge into the machine and turned it on. Steam poured from it. The machine was loud, but Nathaniel knew that John couldn’t hear it so at least it wasn’t too scary. Just something that John could breathe in to make him feel better.
“Put this in your mouth and just breathe like you normally would,” Alex instructed, handing the handle of the hose to John.
***
John appreciated the touch, the contact, the anchor Nathaniel was providing. He took the hose with one hand, his other dropping to laps Nathaniel’s hand on his thigh. He leaned back against the couch, and found that position relieved some of the pressure on his throat.
The problem was, with one hand holding the hose and the other hand gripping Nathaniel’s hand, and his head back he couldn’t see what was going on, or communicate much at all. Oh well. Maybe a few minutes of tuning everything out except the warmth of Nathaniel’s hand wasn’t such a bad idea.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The air from the tube somehow both singed and soothed his battered throat. He still just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep, but he knew when he was in a position to do that, his brain would fight it like gangbusters. He didn’t want to dream, ever again.
Maybe Alex had something that would help with that. John sat up, holding the mouthpiece in place with his lips, freeing both hands to sign frantically. He looked at ALex, but directed the signs at Nathaniel, who had a much higher chance of understanding. Can you give me something so I don’t sleep?
***
As John leaned back, Alex sent some emails to the clinic to register a new patient. He got some information from Nathaniel, but not everything. That could wait and John could at leat be in the system.
After a few minutes, Nathaniel was able to rub John’s back as the man sat forward again and he interpreted John’s signing to Alex who told him that he couldn’t prescribe anything just yet since he was still just a resident med student, but that he could recommend John to take some Melatonin if he was having trouble sleeping or to see the clinic’s doctors when he could. Alex added that they should see a doctor anyway if John continued to have trouble breathing or if his neck began to swell more.
All of this, Nathaniel relayed to the best of his ability. He had to spell out what he didn’t know the words for. Meanwhile, Alex was turning the machine down, then slowly withdrawing it from John’s mouth as it slowed to a stop.
“Any better?” Alex asked after getting John’s attention.
***
He still didn’t trust his voice, and he was pretty sure nodding was a bad idea. His throat was less on fire, but still sort of smoldering. He used his hand to sign yes, and let the rest drop. He might look into getting something to help him not sleep, or at least not dream, but there didn’t seem to be much point in arguing for it at the moment. Alex had done a lot to help him already; he didn’t want to seem ungrateful when he was very grateful.Thank you was an easy sign, just a hand pulled away from the chin. It felt inadequate, but it served his purpose.
As grateful as he was for Alex, he was most grateful for Nathaniel. Someone else might have freaked out, but Nathaniel had kept calm, had called for help, and had taken care of John despite the unfamiliar territory they were thrust into. John certainly hadn’t anticipated any of this when he made the decision to stay rather than drive home, and now that he was calming down and getting a more objective headspace, he thought maybe it was fate that he was here with Nathaniel and not alone in his basement apartment where he might have been bound and gagged, unable to call for help, for days.
***
Everything that John couldn’t see, Alex told to Nathaniel who nodded that he understood. Ice chips, water, warm tea, honey. No tomatoes or anything else that would inflame the tissue in the throat and esophagus. Keep their tongues to themselves when kissing which made Nathaniel blush and look down momentarily.
Once Alex was all packed up, Nathaniel stood and shook his hand, then walked Alex to the door to see him out. This time, Nathaniel locked up. He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, trying to put everything together now that the distraction of the med student wasn’t there. Nathaniel moved back to John...his John.
My John, he signed, lowering himself to his knees, his hands on the tops of John’s legs as he looked up at him. Stay with me, okay? he signed, but felt the need to clarify. For as long as you want.
***
John watched Nathaniel walk Alex to the door. He lifted a hand in a wave, then shrank back on the couch, his head tilted back, opening his airway. He stayed that way until Nathaniel came back, and John’s eyes watched him as he knelt in front of him.
My John, he’d signed. A simple phrase, just two words. But it caused a slight skip in the beat of John’s pulse. He nodded, eyes darting from Nathaniel’s hands to his face, back to his hands so he didn’t miss what he was saying.
“Yes,” he said, the sound grating against his throat, but it felt necessary to use his voice. The rest he signed. Your John. I will stay. My Nathaniel. He accented the signing with a soft expression, a smile. He lifted his hand to Nathaniel’s face, fingers sliding along his jawline before resting against his cheek.
He didn’t want to be alone, the thought of sleeping alone terrified him now, though he never would have asked to stay. The fact Nathaniel offered it, suggested it, wanted it, made him feel safer already.
***
Having someone touch him like that was outside of Nathaniel’s experience. Not just because of the touch, but because of the intimacy of it. Nathaniel stared up at John, rapt, for a moment, then turned to press his lips against John’s palm, noting the other hand was still injured from the bracelet.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there that day,” he said, his eyes falling shut. John’s hand felt so good and he didn’t want the man to stop.
***
His failed attempt to remove the bracelet had left him with a scar. It wasn’t bad,he thought it was hardly noticeable unless you knew where to look for it. But it was there, and Nathaniel’s kiss made it feel like it was electrified. He felt a charge of electricity from Nathaniel’s kisses right to his core.
John’s other hand inched up Nathaniel’s face until his fingers were in Nathaniel’s hair. He leaned a little forward to kiss the top of his head, and if Nathaniel raised his head John would kiss his lips. Words were just words, actions conveyed so much more.
***
And Nathaniel did look up, catching John’s mouth with his own. It was warm...no, not just warm-it was hotter than he’d expected. No kiss before had been like that. Was this what people talked about when they talked about kissing someone they liked? Was it okay to kiss John after everything that was happening?
Nathaniel stood slowly and withdrew from the kiss, but kept close, sliding his knee boldly between John’s thighs.
Does it hurt? he signed with one hand. If John said it didn’t, Nathaniel would just keep doing it.
***
John shook his head. His entire body ached, he couldn’ deny that. But it was a dull ache, and not outright pain. His throat really seemed to be the epicenter of the worst of his discomfort, but kissing didn’t really aggravate it any more than breathing did, and he had to breathe.
Besides, Nathaniel’s knee sliding between his thighs was a nice distraction. It gave him a wave of anticipation, a renewed feeling of butterflies in his stomach which took the focus off the discomfort he felt. He sighed a soft sigh, choosing to kiss Nathaniel once more rather than trying to sign or speak, hoping Nathaniel would take the hint. Kisses were nice, but he wanted something more, something deeper.
***
They were on the same train of thought then. Nathaniel stayed close, breathing in John’s warm sigh. If he could drink John down just then, he would have. This was when he would normally break or move forward to a bed, but neither of those things were especially appealing to Nathaniel. No thoughts of anything else forced themselves in. There was just John and the rise and fall of the man’s chest.
John’s pulse was still quick, Nathaniel could feel it. He pressed a hand to John’s chest and showed him again that he should slow his breathing. Then, after a few deep breaths, he took John’s good hand and guided it to the small of his back, then downward. There wasn’t a lot to feel, but there was still a surprising amount for a skinny boy and Nathaniel worked to make it so. Nathaniel’s mouth dropped against the curve of John’s neck where there was a bruise. He kissed gently there, then found an unmarked spot and sucked at the skin with every intention of leaving behind his own.
***
For John, it felt like something shifted. Like the world realigned itself just the slightest bit. Just enough that he noticed it, and it felt exciting, and a little surreal. The moment seared itself into his mind and memory, something he never wanted to forget.
His hand went where Nathaniel guided, fingers exploring the curves and planes of Nathaniel’s backside. He paused, fingers fluttering when Nathaniel kissed a tender spot on his neck, a bruise no doubt from the noose. John’s breath hitched and he lifted his chin, effectively opening his throat and exposing the tender, traumatised skin. His eyes closed and his breath left him in a small, soft whimper as Nathaniel sucked at his neck.
Another spasm ran through his fingers, then deliberate movement, hand sliding around Nathaniel’s hip. He didn’t ask if what he was doing was all right; he trusted that Nathaneil would stop him if he didn’t want John to move to the front.
***
Oh, Nathaniel wanted more, too, but he didn’t push. Now wasn’t the time to take this very far, though he didn’t stop John either. He let out a shuddering breath against John’s neck and rocked his hips forward against the man. Nathaniel wasn’t hard yet and didn’t intend to be, but he couldn’t help his responses either.
Nathaniel sat up again and pushed his fingers through his hair, his other hand removing his glasses that had become fogged and too steamy to see through anyway. We have plenty of time, he promised, signing with one hand and a little with the one holding the glasses. He was still slow with it, but he was getting the hang of it. He didn’t want John to think he wasn’t into him, but he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation either.
I’m going to get you some water, he said, then slid from John’s lap to go do just that, more to give them both space to breathe and think more clearly.
***
John wasn’t hard either, but he was damn sure aroused. He shuddered in response to Nathaniel moving against him, and his eyes fluttered before focusing on Nathaniel’s hands. He nodded, and felt a wave of emptiness when Nathaniel moved away.
Water would be good, though he wasn’t looking forward to swallowing it. He leaned his head back, and took several deep breaths while Nathaniel was gone to get the water. He very much wanted to pursue more with him, more kissing, more touching, more...everything, but he also knew logically this wasn’t the time. He was understandably traumatized, and Nathaniel likely was too. John could only imagine, and didn’t want to imagine it at all, what he must have looked like when he woke.
He sat back up when he felt Nathaniel return, and he put a hand out for the water. The first sip was small, tentative, uncertain. But the water was luke warm, not cold, and it didn’t hurt going down nearly as much as John worried it might. He used his free hand to say thank you paired with a sincere and grateful smile.
Nathaniel seemed to always know just what he needed.
***