John (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} love_doctor) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} genome_project,@ 2011-02-06 11:30:00 |
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What: An unexpected visit
When: February 5th, late evening (after this)
Where: Rory's dream!
Rating: T for Tearjerker. Also for Tissues, since we needed them while we wrote this. Also E, for Everyone Saw This Coming (subsequently, O for Oops).
Status: Complete
Rory didn’t often have trouble sleeping, but tonight was the exception to the rule. He never should’ve put that poem in his journal. Really, the only reason he’d done it in the first place was because Eisen had bugged him to and now... now things were just a mess. Eisen was inexplicably mad at him (okay... maybe not so inexplicably, given how evasive he’d been. Still, Eisen would probably be even angrier if he ever found out that what Rory had told him was a lie). And now Mal suspected. No. That wasn’t even accurate. Mal more than suspected, she knew, and that thought made him terribly, awfully uneasy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mal not to tell anyone (all he could do now was trust her, after all), but he certainly didn’t trust her not to meddle. He wasn’t exactly sure how, but Mal was just... the meddling type. He welcomed sleep when it finally came, although the dream he was thrown into was rather bittersweet.
Unlike his happier dreams, this one found him without functioning legs, although his chair was nowhere to be seen. Rory sat on a comfortable bench, his useless limbs dangling off of it precariously, although he didn’t feel himself to be in any danger. There was nowhere to go, really; all he could do was look into the big, two-way mirror in front of him, gazing into a room without being seen from those inside it.
The room was familiar -- it was the living room of Eisen’s apartment. The man himself was sprawled out on his comfortable couch, holding Lexie gently in his arms. Rory couldn’t hear the conversation they were having, but he really didn’t need to; it was clear by their smile and their body language that whatever they were saying, it was cute. Rory gazed in, his one hand pressed against the glass and the other curled in a fist.