danny best was the luckiest. (dannyboy) wrote in camulus, @ 2011-09-16 03:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, brielle leblanc, daniel best, viktorus petraitis, yeon son |
WHO: Danny Best [MIRACLE] and Tori Petraitis [THE PRINCE OF FLIES], tiny appearance by Brielle Le Blanc [GUARDIAN] & technically Yeon Son [GUMIHO]
WHEN: Future-dated to The Aftermath.
WHERE: The Tournament Arena, Camulus; Psi House, Camulus; various places in America and finally, Santa Monica, CA.
WHAT: Yeon's dead. Several days after the fact, Danny finally reacts. Tori follows him.
STATUS/RATING: Complete. PG-13 for some violence.
The heathen’s definitely down. The thought bled slowly into the half-archangel’s head as blood gushed out of it, as healing hands became a firm but gentle pressure on his skull, stopping the blood but not the thought in its tracks. His Gift. Still alive. Double-edged sword heavy but natural in right hand, destructive power pulsing bleary and harsh through skin and bone of his left hand. Needed to heal His Gift. The power flickered out from his left hand, and a split second later a pearly light warmed his fingertips and palms. He touched her neck and let his amplified healing ability flow out of him, going wherever it needed to. The half-archangel turned his head, taking in movements and bodies that his brain recognised as ally, irrelevant, irrelevant, ally, irrelevant --- My Love. A little off center from where the half-archangel's brain had last placed him. Moving. Alive. This was good. Very good. He could stop fighting now. For the first time since he’d seen that lone sentence staring up at him on his PDA days ago, Danny came back into himself with a deep, ragged breath.Yeon-Ah is dead. Danny’s hand dropped away from Brielle and he moved away from her when she was fully healed and he probably was. He swift-stepped through the arena until he found Yeon-Ah and took her with him, away from the place of her murder. He made sure that she was laid out carefully on her own bed, her head on her own pillow and her body covered by her own blanket. He made sure of that. He laid his sword down, glowing pearly even through thick coat of blood, by her side. He pressed his lips against her cold forehead. And then he was out her room, out the hallway, out the house and swift-stepping. Danny didn’t look to see where he’d ended up. The ground was familiar. The park he and Tori had played swiftstep tag in on their first date. Too close. He swift-stepped again. There was concrete at his feet, sirens in his eardrums, suffering. New York? Wherever it was, it was too close. He swift-stepped away, and now it was raining, light rain that speckled his ray-bans and his clammy skin. He swift-stepped again, and now the rain was heavy, lashing into his bloodied body and flattening his tangled hair. He was in the middle of a street and a motorbike was headed straight for him. Both Danny’s hands lit up like suns as he thrust them out in front of himself, incinerating the motorbike alongside the legs of the woman who had been on it, who fell to the ground and screamed and screamed and screamed. He was still too close. Danny swift-stepped again, and now there was sweltering heat and dwindling fires in the sky and quiet. Through the black of his shades he could see but not feel the two bursts of scorching power that were his hands, still blazing with destructive power. Tori could be following him. Was he? He could be. He wasn’t as slow as Danny liked to make out sometimes, for the fun of it. Tori been with him when he’d taken Yeon-Ah to Psi, right? Maybe. Maybe not. Had to be safe. Danny sucked in a long, slow breath and held it to the count of seven. “Tori is alive.” He said aloud to himself, to make sure this made sense, that it went into his own head. “This is still important. He is still important. Hurting him will still hurt me. It’s still good when he’s close.” Danny breathed in and out in a rattled breath, and when he did the power dragged itself back down under his skin and out of the sight of physical eyes. He had a direction in mind now. Danny swift-stepped again and again and again until he found salty winds, seagulls calling, so much blue. He stopped, and he stood still and looked around. He was on a wooden pier, next to a ferris wheel. The sea was calm and alive in front of him. It was earlier in the day now, wherever he was. Yeon-Ah was dead. He started to move along the pier, out towards the sea. One foot in front of the other, and again and again and again until he was at the end of the pier. If he went any further, he would be in the sea. And he couldn’t swift-step over water. But he couldn’t turn half a human body into ash, either, not unless Brielle was boosting his powers. And he couldn’t use his destructive power in his right hand, even with Brielle’s help. But just now, he had done both. His dad had said his powers would GROW AS YOU DO, MY GLORIOUS SON. This must have been what he meant. Looking over the sea, a feeling almost like vertigo overcome him and he considered trying it. Falling down into the water and swift-stepping again again, again, again, again, again until he found his way home to Australia. Yeon-Ah was dead. Everything was possible. But he couldn’t. Yeon-Ah was still in America. He would stay here with her. He would go with her to South Korea. He would see that she was laid to rest as she deserved it. Her mum would want to arrange her funeral herself, and that’s how Yeon-Ah would want it. Danny would respect that. But he couldn’t do nothing. He’d need to look up Korean funeral customs. He’d need-- Hands shaking, Danny dug into his jeans pocket for his zippo and his cigarettes and came up empty. He hadn’t had any with him in the arena. It shouldn’t matter. Professor Crowley had wiped his nicotine addiction from his brain, temporarily, for the Tournament. It was instinct that made him want a cigarette now. He had fully been planning on going back to her afterwards, to ask her to put his brain back to before so he could continue as before. If she was still alive, he’d do that. And then he’d quit the hard way. He didn’t know what good it would do, quitting smoking. But Yeon-Ah was the only person he never smoked around, and for some reason it now seemed important that he stop. He felt unsteady, like his legs were about to give out. Brielle had healed his injuries, but she couldn’t heal mental exhaustion, she couldn’t heal this. Danny sat down, slowly, his hands scraping against flaked up wood as he lent on it for balance. He stared out at the sea. This would have to be his Byron Bay, for now. He took his sunglasses off so he could see it in full colour. The light was harsh on his eyes, aching and tight, and they flickered shut. He kept his eyes closed and bent his head down, forcing his breathing to even out and to hold it for a count of seven. He kept his eyes closed even after he’d reached seven. The slick saltiness of tears, sweat and snot was trickling down to his mouth. “Please, my Lord.” When Danny spoke his voice was quiet and hoarse, and unused to this, talking to Him out loud and not within the comfortable confines of his own head, where before he’d always been positive He would hear him and He would listen and He would care, about the only son of his most devoted Archangel.“Why did you take her from me? I thought You wanted--” His breath hitched, and his voice fell into ragged breathing. “I thought You wanted me to have her with me, for the rest of my life. I don’t understand, she’s--” He swallowed, lent his elbow on his knee, laced his fingers through his hair and spat the words out, “My soul-mate. You know that, You made her that way. You made her for me, I bloody know You did, my Father. Why would You make me live without her? I don’t understand, I thought--” You loved me more than that. He couldn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t. He couldn’t stop and think. He couldn’t think about it. Yeon-Ah was dead. Yeon-Ah was dead. He needed--Danny wiped his mouth, his face, his eyes, breathed in the clean, fresh sea air, put his sunglasses back on. He needed money, to make sure everyone she would want there was there to lay her to rest, and he didn’t have enough on his own. He took his phonesphere out of his pocket, switched it on, set all messages to voicemail, opened the microphone app and pressed record. “Yeon-Ah’s funeral, or wake. Initial thoughts.” He didn’t speak for a little while. When he did, he was conversational, practical, a little distant. “Maya will help with money. If Maya’s with Yeon-Ah, Aiden should do. She can’t be buried without everyone she loves there to be with her as she goes,” He raked his hand through his hair, his voice harder, his eyes wet. “She bloody cannot.” Danny breathed in, held it for a count of seven, no more than that, and started to talk again immediately, the pitch of his voice wobbling. “Would Dad swift-step people to and fro for me? For her? I think he genuinely cares for her. You’re My Best Friend for a - no, The Luckiest. Absobloodylutely.” He was quiet, and the pauses now were huge ones, slow ones, not big enough, between every word, every couple of words. “Sky lanterns. Daises. Shaved ice. Karaoke. Even if it’s on my own. BBQ.” Abruptly, Danny pulled his arm back and threw his phonesphere, high and hard, so it sailed up into the air, spinning, before it plummeted down into the ocean. Before it entered the water, it exploded into nothing, in a flash of brilliant, blinding, blazing light. Tori’s third swiftstep landed him somewhere in what he thought was California, his hair plastered to his forehead, wild blue eyes searching for Danny. It was the only thing that was even a little important right now. The last few days of this war had felt like the floor constantly falling out from under his feet, and now was the first time he’d thought to land on solid ground, and he didn’t quite know where that was. Not that it was the first time this had happened. “Danny?” Tori called to the street, which was unresponsive, save the odd tourist looking up and wondering exactly what this strange boy with his slight frame and quick movements was doing. Parents pulled their children closer to themselves as he staggered down a street. He didn’t blame them. he looked drunk and wild, bloody and quite frankly dangerous. But Tori wasn’t going to hurt anyone today.. He kept calling Danny’s name, but no one answered, and his already frail voice was fading. The ocean loomed in the distance, causing flashes of horrific fates to play out in his mind. He wouldn’t throw himself in, would he? He knew, didn’t he, that he couldn’t save Yeon’s soul from rising by throwing himself in after it? He stopped on the highway, looked around, tried not to get hit by a car. Where the fuck? Tori recognized the flash of light destroying the phone several feet away. He would know it anywhere. He smiled. He thought he’d smiled, anyway. It came out a sob, his throat dry and clenched even though he was inexplicably relieved. Danny wasn’t dead. That gave him something to work with. As long as he had something to latch on to, Tori would keep holding, if the person was important enough. And Danny was important enough to cling onto forever, whether he wanted it or not. Tori swiftstepped to the end of the pier and stopped there. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t joke about this. The ground had barely started to right itself, his reality was still pain and loss, their wounds so fresh you could see right into them. So Tori stayed quiet, but he went to Danny’s side, sat down, and looked up at him, as if waiting for instruction or dismissal. “I found you.” He said softly. Since that was all that was important, that was all he bothered to say. Danny slid his sunglasses back on, the sheer bright lights in his eyeballs giving way to his normal blue irises. His breathing was ragged. He didn’t move. When he felt someone sit down next to him, his eyeballs and his hands spiked hot and blinding with fierce power given to Danny by him Him to destroy as he saw fit. Then he heard a voice speaking, felt a little warmth, a little lightness somewhere in his chest, and his mind understood that it was Tori who was with him now. The power vanished. He breathed out, a little easier. His head was more of a mess. Or less. The difference was hard to understand. He wasn’t looking at Tori. He should do that. It might hurt. He turned his head and looked down at him, the battered, skinny, bloody mess of the boy with freckles dotted over his nose, the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen, the toughest, strongest spirit he’d ever, ever known. And it didn’t hurt. He parted his lips to speak. Im in love with you i didnt get to tell her i was in love with you i never got to cant tell him yet have to wait so he knows its not because of Yeon-Ah Yeon-Ah is dead Why? Why? i dont want to serve Him anymore i wont Need to think what do i have to do Tori have to tell him he understands he will help Yeon-Ah is dead Brielle if I see people will destroy Not Brielle brielle is His Gift could hurt her canNot risk it will Not who wont I hurt freddie evie maya Maya? maya z she’s Tori’s Yeon-Ah cant go back too close cant go back but Yeon-Ah is there its Tori its Tori “Please don’t leave me.” It slipped out, barely audible, this thing that Danny didn’t even know he wanted to say, the only thing. The words hit Tori so hard that he couldn’t continue breathing for a moment, the air caught in his chest. It wasn’t that he was afraid of them. It was that they proved, for the first time, that Danny really was not okay. He’d been his rock before this, the only strong person Tori could turn to, the lone bastion of semi-normality in his world. But Danny had his limits too, and when something this awful happened, it was time for Tori to be the rock. Danny needed him. The thought was enough to stop him from questioning his reasoning. He didn’t need to. This wasn’t about Tori’s personal hang-ups and insecurities, this moment. It was about Danny losing Yeon, about keeping Danny from losing himself. Inside of the angel there was something more innocent than one would expect, a childlike faith in the world and in God, countered by an active pursuit of his own form of justice. He was dangerous because he was so untarnished. But Tori wasn’t scared. He grabbed Danny’s wrist and held on with more resolve than he normally would have, dirty, pale fingers encircling the muscle and bone that held someone unspeakably fragile. It was rough, but Tori wanted to make an impact, to ensure that Danny felt it. He wanted Danny to know that no matter what happened in the future, no matter what they came back to in Boston, no matter what Danny did personally, he’d be there. He had to be. He was needed. Tori’s voice was unwavering, but still very quiet. Danny would still hear. “I never would.” |