Fic: Red On Sand
Jan. 1st, 2008 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missmara13Originally a Comment Fic I wrote for a Prompt Meme I did. Now with a title and spellchecking! Yay for spellchecking! lol
Ryan didn't tell them when he started to feel sick. They had too much to deal with already, considering the fact that they all had to finish filling in the mass grave that held their forty some-odd fellow passengers who'd succumbed to the virus already.
He didn't want to add anything more onto their shoulders, so instead, he quietly spent whatever time he could trying to fix the radio until they were able send a messsage requesting medical supplies and only assistance from people in bio-hazard suits.
When he started coughing, he managed to pass it off as sand in his mouth and throat, but he saw the way Lorelai and Summer exchanged glances, and saw how Brooke hung her head and wouldn't meet his eyes. All three women pretended not to see the red spatter on the sand when he stood up.
When he woke up a few days later, he wasn't that surprised to feel so weak he couldn't move, or to find Summer carefull cleaning the oozing blood from the corners of his eyes, from his ears, from his nose, from the corner of his mouth.
He knew if he looked in a mirror, his face would be an odd mix of pale and bruised. He was dying, a little more each day, and even though he knew the women could take care of themselves, as long as they didn't get sick, he felt guilty for not being strong enough to survive.
He could do one thing though. He could wait until they fell asleep and crawl away to die somewhere just far enough that they wouldn't hear his rasping gasps for air. He could spare them the horror they'd seen forty some-odd times already.
When he got far enough from camp, he slowly, weakly, pushed himself up so he was sitting with a back to a tree on the coast of their island hell, and he stared out at the water as the night passed.
By the time morning came, he was still alive and knew they'd wake and come looking for him soon, so when he heard footsteps he assumed it was them. "I didn't want you to see it happen again," he murmured, voice scratchy and words followed by a cough that sent blood into the air.
"Just hang on," an odd voice said, and then in front of him he saw people in bio-suits, with a medical kit at ready.
"Who...?" Ryan began.
"It's alright, son, just hang on," one of the men repeated. "We've got an antidote. Just bad luck that you folks stumbled on an old research station and found the bio-stuff."
Ryan looked past the man's shoulder as another trio of bio-suited visitors arrived, and saw Lorelai walking with Brooke and Summer on either side, her arms around their shoulders and a releived smile on her face.
"They said we'll be okay," Lorelai said.
Ryan tried to smile back, but settled for sighing tiredly.
The End
Ryan didn't tell them when he started to feel sick. They had too much to deal with already, considering the fact that they all had to finish filling in the mass grave that held their forty some-odd fellow passengers who'd succumbed to the virus already.
He didn't want to add anything more onto their shoulders, so instead, he quietly spent whatever time he could trying to fix the radio until they were able send a messsage requesting medical supplies and only assistance from people in bio-hazard suits.
When he started coughing, he managed to pass it off as sand in his mouth and throat, but he saw the way Lorelai and Summer exchanged glances, and saw how Brooke hung her head and wouldn't meet his eyes. All three women pretended not to see the red spatter on the sand when he stood up.
When he woke up a few days later, he wasn't that surprised to feel so weak he couldn't move, or to find Summer carefull cleaning the oozing blood from the corners of his eyes, from his ears, from his nose, from the corner of his mouth.
He knew if he looked in a mirror, his face would be an odd mix of pale and bruised. He was dying, a little more each day, and even though he knew the women could take care of themselves, as long as they didn't get sick, he felt guilty for not being strong enough to survive.
He could do one thing though. He could wait until they fell asleep and crawl away to die somewhere just far enough that they wouldn't hear his rasping gasps for air. He could spare them the horror they'd seen forty some-odd times already.
When he got far enough from camp, he slowly, weakly, pushed himself up so he was sitting with a back to a tree on the coast of their island hell, and he stared out at the water as the night passed.
By the time morning came, he was still alive and knew they'd wake and come looking for him soon, so when he heard footsteps he assumed it was them. "I didn't want you to see it happen again," he murmured, voice scratchy and words followed by a cough that sent blood into the air.
"Just hang on," an odd voice said, and then in front of him he saw people in bio-suits, with a medical kit at ready.
"Who...?" Ryan began.
"It's alright, son, just hang on," one of the men repeated. "We've got an antidote. Just bad luck that you folks stumbled on an old research station and found the bio-stuff."
Ryan looked past the man's shoulder as another trio of bio-suited visitors arrived, and saw Lorelai walking with Brooke and Summer on either side, her arms around their shoulders and a releived smile on her face.
"They said we'll be okay," Lorelai said.
Ryan tried to smile back, but settled for sighing tiredly.
The End
