open post.

[littlemissfutility]

Write a starter, leave a prompt, whatever. Let's write something.

Comments

[withmeinparadise]

"Nah." His thoughts don't go to Nathan. God willing, his brother's in Heaven where he belongs, if he's anywhere at all. Or back on Earth, better yet, but in this moment, he'd probably be willing to admit it: a fall like that, Nathan wasn't exactly goning to walk off. With effort, he forces his muscles to clench, to raise him up until he's sitting on his ass. "I pulled the short straw. This is real, right? This better not be a dream."

[notathreat]

Good, she's not sure she could reliably get anyone out if they're in any shape similar to this. Ellie pulls a slow breath, keeps her hand where it is, mostly so she can feel him breathing. She's all right, but seeing him like this brings back very specific, very awful memories, and she needs to keep her shit together if she's going to help him.

"No, it's real," she says quietly, and shifts, bracing against the bed.

"Do you think you can stand up, if I help?" She can feel how unsteady he is. Given how strong he's always been, how easy he can shake off pain and keep trucking, that's more alarming than the rest.

[withmeinparadise]

"Yeah." No. Well - maybe. Only one way to find out, right? He's spent so much time lately getting dragged around by the collar that he hasn't had to put much effort in. "C'mere, Ell - watch the hands -"

It's an effort, and his voice goes from thin to nothing in the process. He doesn't even breathe, putting all his energy into getting his feet under him. More with the abs - Jesus, fuck, does it hurt to bend - and balancing, his arms awkward and stiff at his sides. (They can't hang limp. He'll bang his fingers against his legs.) But he gets up, a wobbly but unquestionably living giant next to her.

[notathreat]

It's a process, figuring out where to stand so she can brace him. So she doesn't hurt him worse. There's no one wound to work around, nothing urgent to work with. By the way he stands, it's not just that he's injured. She wonders how much he's gotten up to stretch, with injuries like this.

She doesn't imagine it's been a lot.

She situates herself under one of his arms, more to make sure she can hold onto him if he starts to fall, and they head toward the cellar stairs. She left the door cracked at the top.

"Lean on me," she says quietly as they get to the bottom of the stairs, holding onto the handrail. They'll go slow.