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shadowknight2008-03-02 02:47 am
sl_walker) wrote in shadowknight2008-03-02 02:47 am
Entry tags:
Fic - Hollow
Title: Hollow
Rating: PG
Universe: Home
Timeline: January 2006
Written: January 2006
Summary: After finding out that the other ShadowKnights were shunted into the realm of Rhy'Din, Mike and Lorna have a moment of reconciliation while she's taking care of his war wounds; references to a fight that happened in-game. During the 'On the Road' era.
Devon, naturally, was thrilled that word had finally been found (no matter how oddly it had been) that Kitty and the rest were at least alive, uncaptured and unharmed. Immediately Mike had set Devon, KITT and Bonnie to searching the libraries and databanks for any and all references to Rhy'Din. There wasn't likely to be much, but maybe there would be something.
Some way to get the others home.
It was a strange feeling. On one hand, he was more relieved than words... they were alive. They weren't ambushed, captured or anything else. They were trying to figure out how to get home. On the other, though, was a quiet desperation -- how do you get to a destination when you don't know the way? How do you come home from another plane of existence?
He remembered vaguely ending up in Rhy'Din for a brief period with the team, when they were chasing Dr. F's cat. That was the first time he'd encountered those people at the Maritime, and he had liked them fairly quickly. It was a strange acquaintance -- two realms apart, occasional visitors to one another, and that was all.
But Mike sure as Hell didn't want to lose those nearest and dearest to him to that place, even if he did like Archie and his friends quite a bit.
Lorna was in a somewhat cheery mood when she came back from wherever she had gone. He had no idea where that was, given that it was one in the morning and mostly everything was closed. But when she came in with a bag in hand and a smile, he didn't bother asking her; he had mostly forgiven her for their fight, but he didn't want to suffer a repeat.
"Just picking up a few things," she answered, anyway, setting the bag on the table. She tossed a glance to Rick and Nance, curled up on the other bed, then looked back at him. "Strip."
Mike paused in the middle of taking a sip of water, looking at her with a raised eyebrow over the rim of the glass. It took him awhile to actually swallow and ask, "What...?"
"Strip," she said, crossing her arms. "Just because you've managed to avoid Hank doesn't mean you get out of any and all post-battle wound care."
He just raised the other eyebrow, kind of dumbfounded. The idea of stripping for Lorna was... was...
Lorna rolled her eyes, sighing. "I don't mean nude! Kitty would never forgive me if I saw you naked before she did."
This must have been what Rick felt like last night. Suddenly, he kind of regretted picking on the poor geek. He could already feel his own brain threatening to explode and start leaking out of his ears. "Lorna, I'm fine, this really isn't necessary--"
"You can willingly strip, or I can strip you," she said, matter-of-factly.
Yep, there went the gray matter. Normally, very few people could get away with giving Mike orders; the last time she had tried, they'd gotten into a fight. But this was not a fair battle. His brain out of order, and his face a rather furious red, he just did as he was told and managed to get his shirt off.
She grabbed the first aid kit out of her dufflebag, smirking. "That'll work."
One does not take on Sabretooth and walk away without a mark. And while Creed came off the worst in the end, he managed to lay more than a few marks on Mike before that.
"You look like someone went crazy with warpaint on you," Lorna said, fairly lightly, though she wasn't able to hide a sympathetic wince.
That much was true. The right half of his body had taken the brunt of it, being his dominant side, and was scored from collarbone to hip in parallel slashes three and four wide, including down his arm. There were a few on the left, too, but the majority of them were on the right, in dark cut angles. Most of them were clean cuts, though... some deeper than others, but none of them were intended to be fatal. They probably did look like some kind of primal warpaint.
"I've seen what you've done to Frank..." Mike said, regaining a little of his composure, and trying to resist the urge to go hide somewhere. Lorna was gorgeous, but she was scary, and when she was looking you over, instinct said to run. "Since when were you qualified to play doctor?"
"I always brought him back to life. Besides, I had to take a whole bunch of first aid classes while I was with X-Factor." She dug around in the first aid kit. "Wanna get this over with now, or later?"
Oh geez. "How about never?"
"If you wanna walk around looking like someone went ballistic on you with a stapler, it's no skin off of my nose. Or back. Or chest. Or side."
"Not funny," he muttered. "Okay, fine. Go for it."
It took Lorna about a half an hour to pull the staples and stitches from the straightforward cuts and replace them with butterflies. To Mike's credit, he didn't even peep; it actually didn't hurt that bad, considering, and he had a lot of dignity to try to regain anyway. Besides, once it was done, it was done, and he didn't have to worry about it again.
"You heal fast," she said, taking a break. It was careful work. "Probably heal faster if you actually used the HHF. Clay and Hank worked on that for this reason."
"Yeah, but then I'd be asleep all the time," he replied, testing his arm a little. It was kind of nice not to feel that pulling sensation, though he was still pretty sore in places.
Lorna sat back for a moment. "It did a good job on your shoulder, didn't it?"
This was the first time in a very long time that mention of that didn't make him feel a jolt of fear or anger. He glanced down at the old scar on his left shoulder, smiling a bit of a half-smile... even if it ached now, it wouldn't hurt anymore. "Yeah. It did."
"So, use it." She stole his forgotten glass of water and took a sip, then set it back aside. "Ready?"
"No," Mike answered, without hesitation. His side was the sorest part of him, and he didn't want to even think about someone touching it, let alone actually doing so. But that was about all that was left... a few cuts on his right leg, but they had already been butterflied, and where Sabretooth dug into his left ankle, but it was already taped up.
"I'll be quick, I promise."
He had to give her that; she was pretty quick and professional. He took a couple of breaths to steady himself, and nodded.
That was harder; the first cuts Sabretooth had gotten on him were heavy, and then he had gotten scored again across them, leaving behind a wide crosshatch pattern that went from the middle of his ribcage to deep in his waist. She was being as gentle as she could be, but he was still breathing through his teeth.
"You've really gotta be careful with this, Mike," she said, shaking her head, not expecting much of an answer. "There's a lot of pulling here."
No, he wasn't about to try to answer that... he was too busy trying to hold still. That in itself was a major feat of willpower.
Lorna didn't lecture him any further, though, and settled on another topic. "Are you gonna write back?"
"How?" Maybe if he kept it to one word at a time, he could focus on something other than the fact that his side was on fire.
"I guess the same way." She smiled a little, but didn't look up from where she was replacing staples and stitches with butterflies. "It had to be fate. To have that land here, right where we are? It might work the other way, too."
"Might."
"Tell me if you do. I was going to try to send Clay a letter... we might as well send both together. And see if Rick and Nance want to write their own."
Mike gave a short nod, not breathing any more than absolutely necessary. "Mm hm."
"...I'm sorry I did that to you," she said, after a long moment. "I was angry, and I took some of that out on you." It was half of the truth; she had been angry. Admitting that it had been half intervention, though, would just leave him feeling manipulated, and she opted for the 'don't ask, don't tell' approach.
"S'okay."
"Forgive me?"
"'Course."
She nodded and fell silent for awhile, just working away patiently. It took a lot longer than either of them wanted, but she finally placed the last butterfly and sat back. "Done."
Mike had gotten pretty close to a breaking point, and didn't answer immediately. And when he did, he sounded shaky, "Thanks."
"Keep the shirt off... let those cuts get a little air." She started cleaning up and repacking the first aid kit, tossing a decent pile of staples into the trashcan as she did. "And please try to take it easy, okay?"
He tossed a glance at Rick and Nance; he didn't particularly want to worry them or anything, but he didn't think he had enough energy left to pull his shirt back on anyway. So he just nodded, laying back down once Lorna had everything out of the way. "Write back, huh?"
"I bought twine, cork and candles," she replied, smiling a little. "And we have a bottle."
Despite it all, Mike smiled back. "I guess we've got nothing to lose by trying."
"Tomorrow." She pulled out the prescription bottle with the HHF, offering it over. "That way I can see if Rick and Nance want to write any letters to the others."
He took the bottle. "You will wake me up, right? Even if it takes twenty minutes?"
Lorna nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment. "I promise."
He just nodded back. That was good enough for now.
When he fell asleep, the last thing he felt was the Star of David laying in the hollow of his throat.
Rating: PG
Universe: Home
Timeline: January 2006
Written: January 2006
Summary: After finding out that the other ShadowKnights were shunted into the realm of Rhy'Din, Mike and Lorna have a moment of reconciliation while she's taking care of his war wounds; references to a fight that happened in-game. During the 'On the Road' era.
Devon, naturally, was thrilled that word had finally been found (no matter how oddly it had been) that Kitty and the rest were at least alive, uncaptured and unharmed. Immediately Mike had set Devon, KITT and Bonnie to searching the libraries and databanks for any and all references to Rhy'Din. There wasn't likely to be much, but maybe there would be something.
Some way to get the others home.
It was a strange feeling. On one hand, he was more relieved than words... they were alive. They weren't ambushed, captured or anything else. They were trying to figure out how to get home. On the other, though, was a quiet desperation -- how do you get to a destination when you don't know the way? How do you come home from another plane of existence?
He remembered vaguely ending up in Rhy'Din for a brief period with the team, when they were chasing Dr. F's cat. That was the first time he'd encountered those people at the Maritime, and he had liked them fairly quickly. It was a strange acquaintance -- two realms apart, occasional visitors to one another, and that was all.
But Mike sure as Hell didn't want to lose those nearest and dearest to him to that place, even if he did like Archie and his friends quite a bit.
Lorna was in a somewhat cheery mood when she came back from wherever she had gone. He had no idea where that was, given that it was one in the morning and mostly everything was closed. But when she came in with a bag in hand and a smile, he didn't bother asking her; he had mostly forgiven her for their fight, but he didn't want to suffer a repeat.
"Just picking up a few things," she answered, anyway, setting the bag on the table. She tossed a glance to Rick and Nance, curled up on the other bed, then looked back at him. "Strip."
Mike paused in the middle of taking a sip of water, looking at her with a raised eyebrow over the rim of the glass. It took him awhile to actually swallow and ask, "What...?"
"Strip," she said, crossing her arms. "Just because you've managed to avoid Hank doesn't mean you get out of any and all post-battle wound care."
He just raised the other eyebrow, kind of dumbfounded. The idea of stripping for Lorna was... was...
Lorna rolled her eyes, sighing. "I don't mean nude! Kitty would never forgive me if I saw you naked before she did."
This must have been what Rick felt like last night. Suddenly, he kind of regretted picking on the poor geek. He could already feel his own brain threatening to explode and start leaking out of his ears. "Lorna, I'm fine, this really isn't necessary--"
"You can willingly strip, or I can strip you," she said, matter-of-factly.
Yep, there went the gray matter. Normally, very few people could get away with giving Mike orders; the last time she had tried, they'd gotten into a fight. But this was not a fair battle. His brain out of order, and his face a rather furious red, he just did as he was told and managed to get his shirt off.
She grabbed the first aid kit out of her dufflebag, smirking. "That'll work."
One does not take on Sabretooth and walk away without a mark. And while Creed came off the worst in the end, he managed to lay more than a few marks on Mike before that.
"You look like someone went crazy with warpaint on you," Lorna said, fairly lightly, though she wasn't able to hide a sympathetic wince.
That much was true. The right half of his body had taken the brunt of it, being his dominant side, and was scored from collarbone to hip in parallel slashes three and four wide, including down his arm. There were a few on the left, too, but the majority of them were on the right, in dark cut angles. Most of them were clean cuts, though... some deeper than others, but none of them were intended to be fatal. They probably did look like some kind of primal warpaint.
"I've seen what you've done to Frank..." Mike said, regaining a little of his composure, and trying to resist the urge to go hide somewhere. Lorna was gorgeous, but she was scary, and when she was looking you over, instinct said to run. "Since when were you qualified to play doctor?"
"I always brought him back to life. Besides, I had to take a whole bunch of first aid classes while I was with X-Factor." She dug around in the first aid kit. "Wanna get this over with now, or later?"
Oh geez. "How about never?"
"If you wanna walk around looking like someone went ballistic on you with a stapler, it's no skin off of my nose. Or back. Or chest. Or side."
"Not funny," he muttered. "Okay, fine. Go for it."
It took Lorna about a half an hour to pull the staples and stitches from the straightforward cuts and replace them with butterflies. To Mike's credit, he didn't even peep; it actually didn't hurt that bad, considering, and he had a lot of dignity to try to regain anyway. Besides, once it was done, it was done, and he didn't have to worry about it again.
"You heal fast," she said, taking a break. It was careful work. "Probably heal faster if you actually used the HHF. Clay and Hank worked on that for this reason."
"Yeah, but then I'd be asleep all the time," he replied, testing his arm a little. It was kind of nice not to feel that pulling sensation, though he was still pretty sore in places.
Lorna sat back for a moment. "It did a good job on your shoulder, didn't it?"
This was the first time in a very long time that mention of that didn't make him feel a jolt of fear or anger. He glanced down at the old scar on his left shoulder, smiling a bit of a half-smile... even if it ached now, it wouldn't hurt anymore. "Yeah. It did."
"So, use it." She stole his forgotten glass of water and took a sip, then set it back aside. "Ready?"
"No," Mike answered, without hesitation. His side was the sorest part of him, and he didn't want to even think about someone touching it, let alone actually doing so. But that was about all that was left... a few cuts on his right leg, but they had already been butterflied, and where Sabretooth dug into his left ankle, but it was already taped up.
"I'll be quick, I promise."
He had to give her that; she was pretty quick and professional. He took a couple of breaths to steady himself, and nodded.
That was harder; the first cuts Sabretooth had gotten on him were heavy, and then he had gotten scored again across them, leaving behind a wide crosshatch pattern that went from the middle of his ribcage to deep in his waist. She was being as gentle as she could be, but he was still breathing through his teeth.
"You've really gotta be careful with this, Mike," she said, shaking her head, not expecting much of an answer. "There's a lot of pulling here."
No, he wasn't about to try to answer that... he was too busy trying to hold still. That in itself was a major feat of willpower.
Lorna didn't lecture him any further, though, and settled on another topic. "Are you gonna write back?"
"How?" Maybe if he kept it to one word at a time, he could focus on something other than the fact that his side was on fire.
"I guess the same way." She smiled a little, but didn't look up from where she was replacing staples and stitches with butterflies. "It had to be fate. To have that land here, right where we are? It might work the other way, too."
"Might."
"Tell me if you do. I was going to try to send Clay a letter... we might as well send both together. And see if Rick and Nance want to write their own."
Mike gave a short nod, not breathing any more than absolutely necessary. "Mm hm."
"...I'm sorry I did that to you," she said, after a long moment. "I was angry, and I took some of that out on you." It was half of the truth; she had been angry. Admitting that it had been half intervention, though, would just leave him feeling manipulated, and she opted for the 'don't ask, don't tell' approach.
"S'okay."
"Forgive me?"
"'Course."
She nodded and fell silent for awhile, just working away patiently. It took a lot longer than either of them wanted, but she finally placed the last butterfly and sat back. "Done."
Mike had gotten pretty close to a breaking point, and didn't answer immediately. And when he did, he sounded shaky, "Thanks."
"Keep the shirt off... let those cuts get a little air." She started cleaning up and repacking the first aid kit, tossing a decent pile of staples into the trashcan as she did. "And please try to take it easy, okay?"
He tossed a glance at Rick and Nance; he didn't particularly want to worry them or anything, but he didn't think he had enough energy left to pull his shirt back on anyway. So he just nodded, laying back down once Lorna had everything out of the way. "Write back, huh?"
"I bought twine, cork and candles," she replied, smiling a little. "And we have a bottle."
Despite it all, Mike smiled back. "I guess we've got nothing to lose by trying."
"Tomorrow." She pulled out the prescription bottle with the HHF, offering it over. "That way I can see if Rick and Nance want to write any letters to the others."
He took the bottle. "You will wake me up, right? Even if it takes twenty minutes?"
Lorna nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment. "I promise."
He just nodded back. That was good enough for now.
When he fell asleep, the last thing he felt was the Star of David laying in the hollow of his throat.