thesupersmeller (
thesupersmeller) wrote2012-02-25 12:52 pm
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OOM: So Not Dead
The end of the universe is ending and Burton Guster is curled up in a ball in a corner, wracked with soft sobs as his brain tries to figure out what's going to happen to not only himself, but to everything. He closes his eyes tightly, shifting from where he sat with his back to the wall until he's on his side in the fetal position.
It seems to last forever, the shaking and screams - muttered prayers and reassurances that somehow everything is going to be just fine. And then... nothing. A chill wraps around him like jumping in a swimming pool in January; he can't breathe - can't open his eyes or move a muscle.
And then pain, shooting up his left arm from his elbow to his wrist. The rest of his body is numb until he feels the arm warm enough that he can gasp for breath and open his eyes. He's alone, and he sure as hell aint in Milliways anymore. It's dark, after a moment he realizes he's outside but the moon is obscured behind heavy clouds. He can see a street light in the distance and hear the ocean.
Gus closes his eyes again and rolls onto his back - the arm that had been trapped under him letting out another fresh jolt of pain. Broken; definitely at the wrist and probably up higher too if the tingly numbness and shooting pain is telling the whole story. Desperate, he digs into his pocket and manages out his cellphone and phones the last number he called.
"Shawn, pick up pick up pick up..." he whispers in a barely audible whimper.
It seems to last forever, the shaking and screams - muttered prayers and reassurances that somehow everything is going to be just fine. And then... nothing. A chill wraps around him like jumping in a swimming pool in January; he can't breathe - can't open his eyes or move a muscle.
And then pain, shooting up his left arm from his elbow to his wrist. The rest of his body is numb until he feels the arm warm enough that he can gasp for breath and open his eyes. He's alone, and he sure as hell aint in Milliways anymore. It's dark, after a moment he realizes he's outside but the moon is obscured behind heavy clouds. He can see a street light in the distance and hear the ocean.
Gus closes his eyes again and rolls onto his back - the arm that had been trapped under him letting out another fresh jolt of pain. Broken; definitely at the wrist and probably up higher too if the tingly numbness and shooting pain is telling the whole story. Desperate, he digs into his pocket and manages out his cellphone and phones the last number he called.
"Shawn, pick up pick up pick up..." he whispers in a barely audible whimper.
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"What's up, mi compadre?"
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He exhales slowly, a weight already lifted off his sore shoulders. "Were you there when... when it exploded?"
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There's equal parts confusion and worry in his tone.
"You're freaking me out man, where are you?"
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"Milliways... I... I mean, I was there. I'm somewhere else now." He forces open his eyes again and locates the street light; looking for any sort of identifying marks.
"I don't know if I'm even in California... but I've got service so at least I'm in Verizon's network."
It's a start. Sort of.
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He mentally kicks himself for not calling Gus immediately after they got back. Even if he was on a date.
"Are you okay? You don't sound okay."
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"I'm alive and apparently got sent somewhere hopefully close to home." He sighs again; "I need you to find me, Shawn... I'm not getting anywhere on my own."
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"Can you narrow it down at all? I'll find you, but it sounds like you might need an ER visit in a hurry."
He can vaguely hear ocean sounds and traffic noise, but he's more preoccupied with the ragged sound of Gus's breathing.
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It takes a moment for further fratnic visual searching before he gets hit by the obvious; "Try the GPS. Go the office and get on my computer; the place was pretty trashed when I was there but I don't think anything was stolen. Call me and let me know if you can get my signal, okay?"
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After a somewhat frantic motorcycle ride and laptop search, he dials Gus's number again.
"I've got it, I'm on my way."
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Listening as they're retrieved, he asks; "Am I even in California? How far?"
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"You're not even that far from here. I'll be there in like, five minutes."
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He lets himself relax on the warm sand and tries to think about anything other than how body his body hates him and how cold it is.
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"C'mon, let's get out of here."
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He crosses the injured arm in front of himself and tries to keep it steady against the stiff, bloody shirt. "And no, it's not my blood. Help me up, I think my left wrist is broken."
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"That was, beyond a doubt, the stupidest thing I've ever done."
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"You wanna tell me what happened?"
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Finally, he admits; "I was looking for you and sort of got swept up in the chaos and almost got killed by an explosion and some flying, fire-breathing penises before even making it to the bar."
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He changes course and steers them towards the hospital.
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"You know what I said, Shawn. Anyway, after falling on some dude with a sword who pointed me to the bar I figured you probably weren't even there."
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Guilt. He has it.
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"I helped out doing triage in the bar, you know... stopping bleeding and dressing wounds and stuff." He chuckles under his breath and then lets out another slight groan when his ribs ache; "Dude, LORD ELROND touched me. For real, he totally had faith in me and told me I could help those people."
It was kind of really cool. In a way that nobody would ever get.
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It may not show much, but he's secretly kind of proud of him for stepping up.
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He closes his eyes and tries to focus on ignoring the shooting pain in his wrist and forearm, failing miserably but knowing that they're close to the hospital. "How'd your date go?"
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He pulls over as they finally reach the hospital.
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