InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "gogo boy!"

Connor (leconnortemple) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-12-06 02:02:00

Who: Connor Temple and Kimberly Corman
What: Look, she's not dead!
When: Bright and early in the morning
Where: Their library hideaway
Rating: Slap a PG-13 on it for safekeeping
Status: Active

He was still reeling. Sure, it had been more than 24 hours, but that didn't stop it from hurting. It had been weeks since Cutter, and months since Stephen, and those still hurt. Well... Less Stephen now that he was...well, here. But it still felt weird. And now, seeing it the way he had, unable to do a thing, had been downright painful. It had felt as awful as if he were sitting by Cutter's side, being told to do nothing all over again. Only Kimberly hadn't told him to do nothing. Well, she had. Sort of. But only if Fate were playing its part. That wasn't fate. That was cold, calculated, twisted and manipulative murder.

Connor slowly and painfully woke up from his position where he'd clearly just been dropped off wherever the powers that be had chosen. Fuckers. The others that had been in that stupid pharmacy with him were there, too. Was he going to stop and chat? No. As soon as he got his bearings, figured out where he was, and grabbed his well-loved fedora off the ground, he took off.

At first he wasn't sure where to go. Going back to the gym sounded possible. Go back to where he was at least somewhat safe, where Chris and the others usually were. Or maybe he could go by the clock tower, where they'd first met. A proper mourning, really.

But his body must have known before he did where he was going. It would hurt, but he had to go back to their saferoom. The place he'd worked so hard on for her, to keep her safe. The place where only a few nights before, he'd lay curled at her side, hoping she was warm enough and worrying about the next day. Even walking in there would make him feel about two inches tall, but he had no choice, really. His journal was in there and what few supplies he had.

The door to the library made an extra loud squeak in the early morning silence and Connor froze before realizing no one was actually around for it to bother. With a mournful sigh, he walked the rest of the way inside, glancing towards the office they'd been using. He couldn't do it. Not yet. So he wandered instead. Browsing the shelves, glancing over books that hadn't entirely molded and fallen apart. Maybe one day he'd get the urge to actually read one. Maybe.

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cheatingdeath
2009-12-06 02:59 pm UTC (link)

After a while of being unsuccessful, even with Van Helsing's help, Kimberly had given up hope of finding Connor alive. She didn't want to keep looking, because part of her was afraid that if she did find him, it wouldn't be in any shape in which she'd want to see him. She'd bid Van Helsing good night (although it was still daylight) and disappeared back into the library. Connor wasn't there and she knew it, but it felt like the only place to go, so however much it hurt, she went.

The previous night, Kimberly had laid on the floor, curled up in the tighest fetal position she could manage in order to keep warm, and she'd stared at the overturned bookshelves and small, now harmless piles of books. It was a safe room because he'd made it that way. Kimberly Corman, Queen of Death Proofing, had sat back, mostly, and let someone else to the job and honestly? Connor had done a damn good job. The longer Kimberly looked around the room, the more she thought about the day before the previous and horrible things came to mind.

While she'd tried to tell herself that Connor must be out there somewhere, because he must've broken the glass to get her out, Kimberly wasn't so sure anymore. Originally, she'd thought the only way she could've gotten out of the glass and, thus, been revived had been that Connor had finally shattered his own tank, then hers, and managed to bring her back to life before they'd been separated somehow. She'd thought maybe it was all there in her mind, but pushed back because interfering meant Connor put himself on the list and she didn't want to think about that. But, the more Kimberly thought about it, the more entirely another explanation seemed the right one.

All the water pressure had probably broken the glass of Kimberly's tank. She imagined the glass shattering and her unconscious self spilling out onto the ground. Her heart sank to think that Connor might still have had enough air in his tank to be alive to watch it happen. While she'd laid there completely useless on the ground - and she imagined the chick in the leather looking down at her with disinterest as she did - Connor would've slowly run out of air until he had nothing left in the tank to breathe except carbon dioxide. Then, because Kimberly had thought that letting herself die would free him, really, all she'd done is kill him. Had she put the water half and half the way he'd all but begged her to do, Connor might still be alive and keeping her warm, she thought, since it was so damn cold.

She'd cried herself to sleep, feeling guilty and alone. The one thing she'd wanted was for Connor not to get caught up in the very thing she'd been running away from for what seemed like an age. And that one thing she had wanted not to happen so badly...had been her fault because not only had her friendship with him put him at risk, but, in the end, her stubborn desire to keep him safe had killed him.

The sound of the door opening loudly woke Kimberly from nightmares she wanted badly enough to forget that her mind forced them out as soon as her eyes opened. Normally, she'd have hidden. Without anyone she really cared about left in her life, it didn't bother her to take the chance to see who was out there. If they were there to kill her, let them; she was sick and fucking tired of running, anyway. So, she forced herself to her feet and dragged herself across the room, her face drawn with exhaustion and grief, as she pulled the office door open.

It took a moment for Kimberly to find the source of the sound, but finally her eyes fell upon a man browsing the shelves of books. The hat gave him away. "Connor?" she breathed. When she craned her neck slightly, she caught a profile of his face and knew. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened before she all but launched herself at him. "Connor!" she half-laughed, half-sobbed as she threw her arms around him and allowed herself not to care that her momentum knocked them both to the ground.

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leconnortemple
2009-12-06 07:57 pm UTC (link)

When Connor first heard his name, he didn't dare hope that it was Kimberly. There were plenty of other women in the glass dome, some he was friends with. Not that he was really looking forward to seeing Selene just then. Deep down, he knew it wasn't her fault. The more he thought, the more he knew she had to have been under some sort of control. He could remember, just under the surface of his conscious, reading something Shannon or someone had written, about guards not knowing who they were or doing things that wasn't like themselves. Though he'd only met her once, he knew that hadn't been Selene outside those tanks. But that didn't mean he wanted to talk to her. Tonks, possibly, or Ilyana or Rose or Sarah Jane... He could handle those. But not Selene. Not yet.

But when he turned to see who had spoken, he forgot how to breathe. Almost literally. He actually had to gasp in a breath in order to return to normal breathing. But he didn't have time to dwell on that before Kimberly was in his arms and they were on the ground and she was laughing and crying and he didn't know what to say. Not that Connor was exactly a smooth operator when it came to speaking to girls anyway, but now he felt especially inadequate. For one, he was shocked to even see her, alive and well and breathing and not zombiefied or anything equally weird. For another, she had literally just knocked the breath out of him, as his clumsy self hadn't been prepared for her quite abrupt arrival and had fallen as soon as she'd pounced. But mostly, he had a gorgeous girl on top of him who he'd told more than once she was beautiful. And he wasn't exactly rushing to move.

"You're.... You're okay?" he whispered, one arm still tightly around her as he reached up to carefully touch her face. It wasn't so much a romantic gesture as a need to feel skin and know that she was warm or at least not dead-body-cold. In a minute or two, when the realization that she was alive and okay set in, he'd feel really, really embarrassed at his display of affection here. But he just couldn't quite get over it. "But how? You were... I saw you. You weren't breathing. God, Kimmy, it was awful..."

Would they make a clone of her? Send her back to torture him? He wouldn't put it past them. But hell, so what if they did? If it gave him a chance to be with her one last time, so be it.

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