peja (peja) wrote in makebelieve_ij, @ 2010-06-08 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | archive to wwomb - yes, author: peja, fandom: andromeda, genre: slash, pairing: seamus harper/drago-kazov pride |
Fic: Flashpoint 2: Awakening
Flashpoint 2: Awakening
By PEJA
http://www.wwomb.org
Fandom: Andromeda
Pairing: Seamus Harper/
Rating: FRT
Summary: Seamus is not in Kansas (Boston-town) anymore.
Previous chapter at: http://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/vi
Feedback: I definitely write faster if I have a reason too
Waking came slow and with a blaze of pain riding his entire body. Taking care not to breath too deeply, Seamus Harper slitted his eyes and let in a small bit of the nightmare come to life.
He was not in Boston. From the look of the reflective white metal walls and smell of recirculated air he wasn't even on the planet anymore.
A drawn out moan crawled out of the pit of his stomach and he draped a weighted arm over his eyes to block out what his mind screamed against believing. Screamed out, then with the submission of a man in hell shuddered to acceptance.
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," he mumbled under his breath.
"You're awake?" a soft voice said, coming from behind him to. "I had begun to worry."
A smile lit Harper's face at the sound of the soft womanly voice and forgetting the damage to his body, he rolled over. A sharp, stabbing pain dug into his ribs, curling him in on himself. "Oh, this is so not good."
He tried to roll over onto his side but the ripping pain in his ribs stilled him even before the woman’s hands confined him.
"You need to be still awhile. You took a vicious beating."
Breathing through the pain wracking his body, Harper arched a sarcastic brow. "Gee, ya think?"
She smiled softly, patting his hand. "The master commanded you be given a nanobot injection. You need to lie still until the agents can repair the damage."
"Master?" Gritting his teeth, Harper pressed himself to sit up. "Oh, man, I ....forgot. The Dragan’s....Where are they?" Gritting his teeth against the blackness eating away at his vision, he shoved onto his feet. His knees wobbling under him, he clung to the side of the high bed, casting a desperate darting glance around.
"You’re in the infirmary," the woman informed him, hurriedly getting a shoulder under him to support him. "Please, you must get back in bed. The master won’t be happy if you injure yourself farther."
Harper ignored her pleas, his eyes darting around the med-center desperately.
"You can not escape. Master Del Fey has posted guards outside." the woman told him. "Please..."
Harper thrust her away, stumbling at the force of his own shove, he reached out, catching himself against the bed and jarring his ribs. Darkness hit him like a wave, but he shook it off, his fear too strong to let him escape through unconsciousness.
Wavering, swaying, he dragged one foot in front of the other toward what he hoped was the back door. Several steps into his impossibly slow flight to freedom, his knees caved under him and he went down hard.
The woman knelt at his side, trying to coax him back to bed.
He shook her off, gaining his hands and knees, but unable to stand. He continued forward the only way he could, crawling stiffly on arms that seemed intent on flopping in no particular direction, until once more his body collapsed. floundering, unable to get his arms to support him for more than seconds, he resorted to belly crawling, inching forward, forward...
Until hard hands grasped his forearms and lifted him bodily from the floor.
Strong hands turned him to dangle before a mockingly handsome man. No, not a man. Not with those dangerous, glittering bone-blades. A Nietzschean.
Del Fey.
Harper could barely flail his heavy arms as his captor carted him bodily across the room and laid him in the bed he'd abandoned moments before.
Before Harper could act against him, the Nietzschean pressed a control on the bed side and Harper found himself locked into a status field.
Wild-eyed he met Del Fey's mocking gaze.
"When he is healed," Del Fey spoke to the woman, but his eyes held Harper's, letting him know the words were for him. "Have him cleaned thoroughly and brought to my quarters. I would have him...." a seductive smile curled his lips. "...for lunch."
Harper blanched, knowing without hope for rescue, he was well and truly fucked.
Defeat took consciousness from him in an instant, the Nietzschean's words following him into the darkness to play havoc on the security of his dreams
End this part....
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