riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-02-05 10:02 am
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-02-05 10:02 am
Entry tags:
"Unslept" (Out of the Dark, 2004)
Title: Unslept
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick doesn't sleep much. Hasn't since 1972.
I can't sleep. Hell, not like I've slept all that much since '72, anyway. See, Cody nearly wandered into a firefight by way of introducing himself. To say it was memorable is sort of like saying the Mona Lisa's worth a couple bucks.
Cody sighs and curls closer, burrowing into me. It's one of the things he does I love best, and I wait before resettling my hand on his back, listening to the soft, easy breathing and our boat, keeping us safe. Safe as we'll ever be, I guess. Cody frowns, and my hand goes to his shoulder. All-clear. I've lost count how many times I've drawn that sign on him; anything to make him feel safe. Anything for him.
Hell, I even gave up the sky for him.
Maybe it was time, anyway, but no self-respecting pilot wants to think that time's ever gonna come, you know? But I'll tell ya, when I woke up in that hospital and saw his eyes, I knew. I knew.
I still don't remember the crash, and frankly I pray to God I never do. But I don't think I'll ever forget the look in Cody's eyes...I rub Cody's back again, eliciting a soft murmur.
Yeah, the Army still keeps me pretty busy, keeps me round choppers, workin' on 'em, tellin' other people how to fly, but I gave him my word. I'm not saying it was easy; it hurt like hell. Still does when I'm on base showing some green as hell kid the difference between yaw and pitch, thinking I should just get up there and really show him, so he never forgets when he really needs it.
And once we got everything straightened out, you know, with the...tubes and the things and everything, then I could give him back the ocean.
Cody raises his head off my chest and looks around, startled awake by some damn thing. I rub a question into his shoulder and Cody lies back down with a quiet, disgruntled noise. I turn off the tv so I can listen.
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick doesn't sleep much. Hasn't since 1972.
I can't sleep. Hell, not like I've slept all that much since '72, anyway. See, Cody nearly wandered into a firefight by way of introducing himself. To say it was memorable is sort of like saying the Mona Lisa's worth a couple bucks.
Cody sighs and curls closer, burrowing into me. It's one of the things he does I love best, and I wait before resettling my hand on his back, listening to the soft, easy breathing and our boat, keeping us safe. Safe as we'll ever be, I guess. Cody frowns, and my hand goes to his shoulder. All-clear. I've lost count how many times I've drawn that sign on him; anything to make him feel safe. Anything for him.
Hell, I even gave up the sky for him.
Maybe it was time, anyway, but no self-respecting pilot wants to think that time's ever gonna come, you know? But I'll tell ya, when I woke up in that hospital and saw his eyes, I knew. I knew.
I still don't remember the crash, and frankly I pray to God I never do. But I don't think I'll ever forget the look in Cody's eyes...I rub Cody's back again, eliciting a soft murmur.
Yeah, the Army still keeps me pretty busy, keeps me round choppers, workin' on 'em, tellin' other people how to fly, but I gave him my word. I'm not saying it was easy; it hurt like hell. Still does when I'm on base showing some green as hell kid the difference between yaw and pitch, thinking I should just get up there and really show him, so he never forgets when he really needs it.
And once we got everything straightened out, you know, with the...tubes and the things and everything, then I could give him back the ocean.
Cody raises his head off my chest and looks around, startled awake by some damn thing. I rub a question into his shoulder and Cody lies back down with a quiet, disgruntled noise. I turn off the tv so I can listen.