TBC (onshakyground) wrote in tomorrowtoday, @ 2013-07-23 19:12:00 |
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Current mood: | annoyed |
Log: Rise and Shine
Characters: Dominikos Petrakis & Remy LeBeau
NPCs: n/a
Location: 2nd Sub-Level, Med Lab, HSSot
Timeline: 23rd July 2013, Early evening
Description: Dominik and Remy exchange words when the Cajun opens his eyes
Rating: PG-13
If there was a word to describe Dominikos Petrakis at this moment in time it would be quite simply pissed. He had heard second hand what had happened, but it had involved Remy, alcohol and a long fall. Apparently the stupid fucking Cajun had thought it a really good idea to go clambering tall buildings when three sheets to the wind. Seriously, what the hell?
He got that Remy was torn apart by Haroun’s death and that it might not seem like there was anything worth living for, but it was no excuse to act like a fucking idiot. He had other people who cared, other people who were still breathing and Dominik, he couldn’t understand why of all the things he could have done he’d done that and whilst drunk. It was just so... God, that Cajun.
And the fall had been bad enough that Remy had been unconscious for the last few days as he’d slipped into a coma and Rogue had been an absolute wreck which was understandable all things considered. In a way it was good that Remy hadn’t been awake for the weekend because if he’d asked Dominik a direct question then there will have been no way of Avalanche lying to conceal his true feelings, not after the weirdness which had taken place over the last three days, but still, he’d rather Remy be conscious than the weird stillness that had taken him.
Dominik thought he’d been doing better, but clearly Remy was better at hiding things than the Greek may have given him credit for and he felt like he’d failed his friend, by the fact he hadn’t foreseen this situation. God, he wished that Haroun was here, he’d be able to talk some sense into Remy and get him back onto a non destructive path. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Haroun wasn’t here, he was gone and Remy was hurting.
Still, it didn’t give him the right to be so cavalier with his own life. Not when he had given Dominik lectures on how he should watch out for himself, it was about time the Cajun started practicing what he was preaching. Seriously. Dominik could feel his anger bubbling, threatening to escape the tight lid he was trying to keep on it, but he was just so mad. So very mad. Especially as life was for the living and last he checked Remy had other people around him who he claimed as friends and Dominik thought worth living for. But he knew and he understand the depth of despair and the utter desperation just to be closer to the person you had lost because he’d felt it every day since he had lost his father. But you needed to be stronger, keep marching, because if he’d given in and just let his grief consume him then he sure as hell would not be here right now.
A hand threaded into his hair before both came up to his mouth where his eyes closed and he murmured a further prayer in Greek, similar but different to the one he had spoken during Jono and Haroun’s memorial, a steady strong mantra.
It was a steady stream of drifting in and out of wakefulness since he’d come out of the coma he’d been in through the weekend. Remy had never been seriously injured before. Nothing this bad. Broken bones, cuts and bruises, sure. But falling from five stories and hitting the ground so hard his body had crashed and shut itself down so deeply that medical science could only do so much - that was a new one.
These bouts of wakefulness, followed by long hours of sleep, were getting more frequent as his body recovered from the trauma of the fall. Or rather, the end of the fall. He slept deeply, but not the kind of sleep that he’d been in when he had seen Haroun. The memory that he’d treasure for a long time to come. No one would believe him. It brought a smug smile to his lips as he stirred and turned slightly, rustling the sheets of the bed he was propped up in.
Remy had a broken arm that was reset and in a sling around his neck. His torso was wrapped tightly to help keep the broken ribs setting fine. The bruises and scrapes on the side of his face were by then starting to fade, but had made a colorful display against his still pale skin. His head injury was closely monitored, but the Cajun’s head wrap that he’d been wearing the past few days for where the concrete had broken his skin was replaced by a gauze bandage on the side that had been injured. It meant the Cajun’s dark hair, which had been in dire need of a haircut for a long time, was now short out of necessity to keep the wound clear.
Red on black eyes opened and focused on the Greek boy beside his bed who appeared to be praying. Trying to listen, Remy couldn’t understand the words but watched Dominik anyway, waiting until he was finished.
“Dat’s beautiful, Rarity.” He murmured. “What’s it mean?”
It wasn’t until Remy spoke that Dominik opened his eyes, eyes that were dark and held a storm that people would be right to be afraid of. His hands whilst clasped were anything but relaxed, tension filling the long digits and pooling in the tips that were turning white with constrained emotion.
“It’s an old prayer, my granddad taught me it.” God rest his soul. “It’s basically asking...” He nearly said the word and realised how stupid it might sound to anyone who wasn’t him or had religious ties. Dominik found it ironic that he had never really believed and yet in the last few weeks he had turned to prayer more than he’d like to admit. “He used to say it was asking for the Angels to safeguard your soul until you were in a better place to do it yourself and appealing to the higher power to provide you with shelter in a storm.”
He shrugged his shoulders then allowed his gaze to take in the state of the Cajun, relieved that he was awake and talking, which meant he wasn’t beyond saving, but at the same time Dominik couldn’t help but feel that anger burning at the back of his throat. He was coiled tension, that much was clear, it was in the set of his shoulders and the way he barely moved.
“My family’s religious.”
Gambit watched him, laying still and breathing evenly.
Remy was happy to see Dominik, and it showed in the warmth in his regard. But there was something boiling under the one Dom leveled at him that the Cajun had not seen up until that point. It put him on edge and he did the only thing he knew how to do: joke about it and play it off. But he tried to be respectful. From what it sounded like, Dominik’s granddad was no longer with them, and the prayer and its connotations might have deeper significance to Dom than his stiff posture and pressed tight hands might indicate. Or maybe those were the things that showed how much he believed in it.
“Got an angel at my bed now. Ain’t sure if he’s here to collect my soul for heaven or hell, though.” Dark eyes poured over Dominik’s expression before they closed and Remy let out a breath, shifting against the sheets again to ease the restlessness in his legs. Gambit wasn’t used to being down for so long and he was starting to feel better to the point of remembering that fact.
“It’s good to see you, Rarity. Real good.” Remy smiled and opened his eyes again to look at the other mutant, “How you been? How’s Jimbo?”
"Jimmy's fine," Dominik answered easily enough or he had been last time Dominik had seen him, ignoring the remark about his being at Angel. He was no Angel. "I however am not but that could be because my friend nearly killed himself this weekend."
He rose to a foreboding height and folded his arms across his chest as he took a few steps closer. " What in the hell were you thinking?" And there it was the anger born of concern, the same concern that had him checking in on the Cajun every couple of hours. "Were you even thinking? I mean climbing tall buildings whilst drunk, who does that?"
His eyes were dark but they were swirling with several emotions at once, anger being the most prevalent but the worry and sheer panic at the stupidity of Remy's act was unmistakably clear for anyone who could read Dominik.
Remy winced at Dominik’s first comment about what had happened. This wasn’t going to go over well. Not by a long shot. And then the mutant was standing his impressive height and coming at him and Remy had nowhere to retreat. Not that he wanted to run. Not when he could see Dom wasn’t just mad, he was hurting.
“Look, I did it for a reason. Had a plan in mind, safety net in place. It just didn’t...” Well, stating the obvious wouldn’t do much good, so Remy made a small shrug. “Wasn’t to go kill myself, Dominik.” He wanted to be clear about that. He hadn’t been, that he could remember anyway, intentionally going up there to try and be reunited with Haroun or anything. Not that it would be easy to convince others.
“A plan?” Dominik repeated. “Really? Is that what Rogue was there for? To catch you if you fell?” He flexed his hands where they had clamped down on his arms and he remained closed off and you could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.
He was relieved to hear that Remy hadn’t gone up there with the intention of killing himself so the Greek didn’t have to knock some sense into him in that regard because really what good would that have done to anyone?
Dominik’s jaw worked against itself and he just shook his head. “Seriously, just- What were you trying to achieve exactly?” Aside from being a vlaca?. But somehow God only knows how Dominik managed to bite that remark back, force it down his throat and let it sit somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
Lifting a hand to drag across his face, Remy sighed, “I just... didn’t listen to her. Dat’s all. Don’t you go stomping after dat girl, either,” he warned, shaking a finger at the imposing figure of Avalanche. Remy dropped his arm back to his side and sighed again. “Wasn’t her fault.”
But the real reasons he’d gone up, what he’d been trying to achieve, those were more important anyway because hell, he had survived it, all things considered, and even though he had a long recovery ahead and life wasn’t a fucking joy ride and never would be, it at least looked better. Just a little better.
Remy actually smiled at Dominik, a rueful expression, “Gambit went up to stand on de edge, cause, see, I got dis ting about heights. Not liking dem. But Haroun,” as Remy said his name, he didn’t flinch or shy away, or even divert his gaze from the other boy, speaking of his dearly departed with confidence, “he was a flier and always we said we was gonna go work on dat. Never did before de end.
“Remy went up dat night wit Rogue to take care of dat unfinished business. Comprendre?”
Gambit raised his hand again in an effort to stop Dominik from speaking yet, “I know, cher. De alcohol was a fucked up idea. Know dat now. But...” he trailed off, looking up at Dominik, then out across the room. How could he even start explaining what he’d seen? Should he, even?
Dominik's eyes watched the movement of Remy’s hand before he shook his head. Rogue had been with him on that night and whatever had happened she’d tried to catch him, but had missed. He’d seen the pain and anguish on her face at the thought of it, bringing Dominik to the conclusion that the girl known as Rogue felt more than she wanted to admit and there was history there, a blind man could see that. And Dominik wasn’t intending on going stomping off after her considering how she had fallen apart on him and they’d shared an understanding.
Remy was right to silence Dominik because he had his mouth open ready to fire off a sarcastic remark about the alcohol, but then he stamped down on it and the tension was raw, visceral and frightening to behold. Of course he did notice the change in Remy now he spoke Haroun's name like he was more at peace with what had happened. Maybe that's what a near death experience did for you? Dominik wouldn't know, he'd never nearly died.
"But, what?" He challenged, voice cool in a way that Remy would never have heard before. He'd scared Dominik and shaken the otherwise solid Avalanche by playing so frivolously with his life all for what? Conquering his fear of heights?
Dark eyes moved back to Dominik at his tone and Gambit really looked at him, studying his tense outline. “C’mere. Sit down. You ain’t gonna stay mad at me forever, are you?” His voice was partly teasing, Remy responding more like his natural self, despite his injuries, than he had since the Fourth of July. “You just sore you couldn’t show me up at pool, huh?” He accused. Remy reached out a hand towards Dominik, inviting him closer, the IV still giving him fluids and medication when he needed it attached at the back of his hand.
He wasn’t wearing his gloves and it may be the only time Dominik would ever see him without them. The cotton shift he wore was thin and the electronic monitors, their attachments, had actually been removed because, as Remy had first come out of the coma earlier, his powers had fried them. It was one of the risks you took when treating sick or injured mutants with dangerous powers. Luckily he’d not accidentally leveled the school, too.
“Don’t tempt me,” Dominik muttered in a gravelly tone. “You’re a fucking ilithios.” Which in effect was Dominik telling Remy that he was both stupid and an idiot in one simple word. He pushed a breath out of a very tight chest before finally settling himself in the chair, not that he unfolded himself or anything of the sort.
Sometimes the only way to hold yourself together was by quite literally holding yourself together, especially if you didn’t trust your emotions. And Dominik didn’t, never had. He kept a tight lid on them, let them bubble beneath the surface and more often than not they showed themselves in his actions.
His gaze caught on Remy’s bare hands before it sort of fixed there. “Unfinished business?” He queried, finally lifting that stormy gaze to Remy’s face. “And you couldn’t have faced it another way?”
“Take it dat ain’t a nice word...” Remy’s amusement stayed contained, mostly. He wasn’t trying to belittle Dominik’s anger or his worry, it was just his natural response to being confronted by his own poor choices that had caused dire circumstances. And he was worried, beneath the sarcasm, that Dominik really may not forgive him.
So he was relieved when the other mutant sat again, and Gambit turned his head to watch him and be able to meet his eyes. The pain from his healing injuries was not unbearable, but Remy wasn’t about to test it by trying to sit up, despite the rising restless feeling in his legs. He also didn’t care to request any of the painkiller Dr. MacTaggert had left available for him, the dose that was ready at the press of a button if it got bad enough. Gambit was raised to, when you got hurt, to walk it off. Medicine was a last resort, and the Cajun didn’t think now was a good time to jokingly ask Dominik to sneak him some whiskey.
The other boy was so tense and locked up. Remy bit his lip and laid his hand back down, closer to Dominik, but he couldn’t quite reach him. “Non. It had to be dat way. For him. I...” Licking his lips, Remy plunged ahead and blurted it out, “I saw him.”
Dominik had been about to give Remy an answer to his first comment when the Cajun said that he saw him and he didn’t need a name to know who Remy meant. It was Haroun, who else would it be?
“What?” He asked, surprise evident on his face. “You saw him?
“Oui.” Remy searched Dominik’s eyes for a moment, then continued, “After I fell. I saw him. Not just saw him, I talked to him. And he talked back. Actually,” Remy chuckled a little fondly, “he did most de talking.”
Dominik didn’t really know what to make of what Remy was telling him, especially as it seemed... well, unbelievable. But if anybody could find Remy in the throes of death then it would be Haroun, he seemed stubborn enough for it.
He pushed away his skepticism for a moment in favour of indulging this.
“What happened?”
Brows furrowing, Remy frowned, continuing but his voice was softer, more reverent, “He picked me up off de ground and told me it wasn’t my time yet. We was in some kind of... some kind of waiting area.” Shaking his head, Remy closed his bare fingers into the sheets on the bed, the shrapnel scars lighter than the rest of his skin. “Probably sounds crazy to you, homme. But he was real. He...”
After a pause, Remy laughed softly, causing a wince to follow and he let out a breath, “He told me de same ting you did. About de roof.”
Dominik sat back into the chair, listening to Remy and hearing the change in his voice. It really sounded like he believed what he was saying. Was it possible that Remy in that moment between life and death had crossed over? Somehow got picked up off the metaphorical asphalt by his lost lover?
“Yeah, well, it was a stupid idea.”
His hands flexed around his arms again and a breath escaped him. “Because let’s face it you dying wouldn’t have helped anyone.”
“Non,” Remy unclenched his fingers and they smoothed out, relaxed. “Dis place don’t need more death.” He thought of the other Haroun’s in the place, at the station, waiting for their other friends or family members to join them. And he wondered how long they’d have to wait, but remembered Haroun had told him that time there didn’t matter. Jono hadn’t been there, either, and that was still something Remy had been puzzling about. He had not caught the buzz on the journals from Meggan or the rumors that began to float around as a result of the boy being alive or the girl who could see ghosts. All the Cajun had to go on was the word of his dead boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Haroun had let him go. Inspite of the separation being first a tragic physical one, Remy thought that the closure on the whole thing was probably one of the the easiest, smoothest and most tender ways it could have been done. Now Remy could let go, too.
Quiet for a moment, the Cajun studied Dominik, “He sent me back. Back here to live. Figure I’ll do dat.” Smirking slightly, Remy closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh.
Dominik was silent as Remy spoke and he reflected upon the other teen’s words, turning them over in his head and then pushing a breath out. “Yeah, living is probably a good idea.” Even if Dominik couldn’t really talk considering his father’s death haunted his every step, filled his every moment when he wasn’t with people and his mother’s words of anger and rejection rang in his ears.
“But just for the record I don’t think you’re any less of an idiot all because you had an epiphany.”
He considered Remy for a moment. “I should let you get some actual rest.”
Dominik’s surmise brought a genuine smile to Remy’s lips. He was, in so many ways, a reminder of Haroun. Maybe that was why they got along so well. But unlike Haroun, Remy hadn’t met someone yet who Dominik didn’t get along with. Except maybe Selene. Definitely Selene.
“I’m sorry for scaring you, Rarity.” he looked at the other mutant, his smile still on his face, “And even though you got a funny way of saying it, I care about you too.” His teasing had a flavor of honesty behind it, and he wanted to protest the idea of Dom leaving, rather liking having him there for company. But even for as solid a presence as Dominik was, Gambit doubted he could stay awake for much longer to enjoy it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dominik shared with a roll of his eyes before with his hands on thighs he pushed to his feet. “Get some sleep, Remy. You’re sure as hell going to need as much as you can get if you want to be on our feet again anytime soon.”
He closed his hand around the back of the chair and moved it back into its original position as he knew he wouldn’t be Remy’s only visitor. “No more rooftops especially when drunk, understood?”
“Oui. Je comprends.” Remy slurred his French like it was one word, eyes tracking the boy’s movements.
“Dominik,” he called when Avalanche was turning to go. “We still on for pool, non?”
Dominik paused mid stride and caught Remy’s gaze, offering a small smile. “Yeah, man. Of course we are.” He wasn’t the overly gushy type and he didn’t believe in forcing his emotions onto others when they weren’t strong enough to bear them so all he did was exhale. “I’m glad you’re okay.” And the weight behind the sentiment of the words was there, it wasn’t overt but it was present enough.
Returning the smile, Remy was able to relax and sleep with something interesting to look forward to. Because hell if he was going to miss beating Dominik and his long arms at pool. Fuck that noise. He’d even do it with a broken arm, if he had to. Just for the satisfaction of not only winning, but watching Dominik sweet talk the bar girls (or boys) into getting them a free round.