Doors Secrets (doorssecrets) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-07-08 12:07:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | plot: secrets |
Who: Within me
What: Reveal
When: Secrets plot
Warnings/Rating: Er, sickies and mentions of dead things.
He didn't make it to the curb before he stumbled, fell, hitting the pavement hard with his knees, Not even his hands could help him, they were too busy pawing at his face, making sure that all his features were there, that he lacked horns, that rotting corpse flesh no longer stuck to his face.
It wasn't there, but he could still smell it, a putrescent invader of his senses. Both palms smacked down on the edge of the sidewalk before his body bowed, stomach forcibly bringing up all its current contents into the gutter. Stomach muscles clenched tight, helping to expel all that remained, and bringing him lower until his shoulders were nearly level with his knees.
Was this what people had talked about the last time? Prior to Halloween, when he'd been away on a conference, he had managed to avoid all of this. Now it looked like he was not so lucky, that the dice were loaded, and even as he felt Aragorn's calm return, it was not enough to stop the rising panic. What if it had nothing at all to do with the hotel and everything with him? He remembered the climbing paranoia, pushed out of his own soul and threatening to choke him, the man that would take everything everything even his life -- one hand left the concrete to check his abdomen. No seeping blood, only a bit of tenderness that could have been explained by the emesis.
Struggling to his feet, he remembered the cut, his wounded leg, how he had hurt the other man -- he'd hurt him. Wiping at his mouth, he hailed a cab, feeling far too unsteady to even attempt driving right now.
He needed -- he needed -- he needed to get home to Spot, check on the little pup that grounded him. Call someone. Not Winnie, certainly not Veronica. Toby? Toby. It would have to be Toby. Toby could make sure that he didn't have signs he was missing of the same illness that stole his early childhood and his mother from him.
It didn't stop Jack's hands from shaking on the way home. or his stomach from threatening revolt.