[Blog] Bothering me about my smoking is hazardous to your health
Cute. Real, fucking cute.
Entry tags:
Adventures in babysitting [Narrative]
“I’ve got to get out of here!” The teen insisted with a fair amount of exasperation in his tone.
“I’ve been cooped up forever, and I really need to get back into shape.”
Archer sighed gustily, throwing Ichigo a long-suffering look. Of course the kid would want to get out and about, Danny really did understand, but Ichigo’s timing was pretty bad. What with Riddick and Alice being gone, and Archer needing to go with Shania to scrounge up some decent clothes for her. ( Alice’s hadn’t fit….not that he was surprised in the least.)
“Look, bru, it’s not safe to just go wandering about out there, and—“
“I know that!”, the teen cut him off, raising one stalling hand so he could keep going with pleading his case.
“I’ll stick close. Just want to exercise some is all.”
Archer frowned at the boy, then glanced at the blond who had ensconced herself without so much as a by-your-leave in Archer’s own bed.
He really didn’t like splitting up…but Danny was also ready to stretch his legs a little too.
“Alright, alright. Look; I’ll go down with you, huh? We’ll just fill the kettle, and then I’ll keep an eye out.”
Raising both brows at the boy so Ichigo wouldn’t have any doubts that this was non-negotiable, Archer held out his hand for a shake.
“Deal?”
He wasn’t happy about it, that much was obvious, but he was still injured, and it wasn’t like he knew his way around this place yet.
The older man had also been awfully good to him, what with patching up his wounds, and feeding him all this time.
“Ok, sure.” Ichigo frowned, but agreed all the same.
“Right, then, get your…uh…’sword’, I’ll be down in a minute.” Archer said while getting up to go gather his knapsack and the big kettle they had been using to melt snow for water, but the snow close by was either too dirty to use, or had been scooped away already. Best to get some while they were out.
He didn’t bother to wake Shania, but he did root through his things to find a battered little notepad.
He’d leave a note tacked to the door in case she woke up. No need to have her wondering around outside looking for them since it was hardly wise to hang about outside their dwelling where some of the ‘locals’ could pick up their scent too easily.
As he pulled on his coat, he had to wonder why the hell he was the one stuck on babysitting duty.
“I’ve been cooped up forever, and I really need to get back into shape.”
Archer sighed gustily, throwing Ichigo a long-suffering look. Of course the kid would want to get out and about, Danny really did understand, but Ichigo’s timing was pretty bad. What with Riddick and Alice being gone, and Archer needing to go with Shania to scrounge up some decent clothes for her. ( Alice’s hadn’t fit….not that he was surprised in the least.)
“Look, bru, it’s not safe to just go wandering about out there, and—“
“I know that!”, the teen cut him off, raising one stalling hand so he could keep going with pleading his case.
“I’ll stick close. Just want to exercise some is all.”
Archer frowned at the boy, then glanced at the blond who had ensconced herself without so much as a by-your-leave in Archer’s own bed.
He really didn’t like splitting up…but Danny was also ready to stretch his legs a little too.
“Alright, alright. Look; I’ll go down with you, huh? We’ll just fill the kettle, and then I’ll keep an eye out.”
Raising both brows at the boy so Ichigo wouldn’t have any doubts that this was non-negotiable, Archer held out his hand for a shake.
“Deal?”
He wasn’t happy about it, that much was obvious, but he was still injured, and it wasn’t like he knew his way around this place yet.
The older man had also been awfully good to him, what with patching up his wounds, and feeding him all this time.
“Ok, sure.” Ichigo frowned, but agreed all the same.
“Right, then, get your…uh…’sword’, I’ll be down in a minute.” Archer said while getting up to go gather his knapsack and the big kettle they had been using to melt snow for water, but the snow close by was either too dirty to use, or had been scooped away already. Best to get some while they were out.
He didn’t bother to wake Shania, but he did root through his things to find a battered little notepad.
He’d leave a note tacked to the door in case she woke up. No need to have her wondering around outside looking for them since it was hardly wise to hang about outside their dwelling where some of the ‘locals’ could pick up their scent too easily.
As he pulled on his coat, he had to wonder why the hell he was the one stuck on babysitting duty.
IC: Internal thoughts Do not comment please.
It was late, or early, depending how night cycles went in this place. One hand held an odd cigarette Archer had caged off someone when he first arrived, the other was wrapped loosely around a shot glass. He swirled the contents meditatively and felt the mild hum of alcohol guide his thoughts back to the places in his head he’d been avoiding.
This place.
Archer gave a soft sigh and shook his head at how strange his existence had become.
He had never really feared death, even when he was young, but he certainly hadn’t been keen on finding out what lay on the other side of that great divide. Strange to think that he hadn’t really found out now that he had crossed it.
Too damned for Hell, not good enough for heaven. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before, but it applied.
Gone from the world, and no one to miss him when he left.
…Well, maybe one person.
Archer shut his eyes briefly, then took the shot in one go in an effort to push away that particular thought. He didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to think about it.
About her.
The smoke curled away from the end of the cigarette in his hand, but he didn’t really see it. Instead he was looking down on canyon painted in shades of green, gold, and clay red.
The air is hot, and he can’t seem to get a decent breath around the fiery sword in his side. His arm is wet down to his hand. His blood dribbling away into the soil from a hole in his chest.
He’s having trouble feeling his legs.
But…none of it really matters. He can hear Maddy’s voice, choked with tears, rich with emotion, and sounding more, and more distant, though he knows it has nothing to do with the sat-phone.
I’m really glad I met you too….and I wish I could be there with you right now.
That fiery weight is getting harder to breathe around, but he manages enough to tell her that it was alright. He was right where he belonged.
T.I.A…huh, Danny?
He’d been ready to rest. Ready to sleep and never wake up again. In a way he felt vaguely cheated that oblivion wasn’t for him.
But, it wasn’t terribly important. Maybe it’s a universal condition of the dead that they don’t mind their death. It felt oddly…freeing to be more able to really start again, than he had ever known could happen.
Maybe the reason Archer wasn’t singing in a chorus on a cloud right now was the fact he didn’t regret what he had done those last hours. He had won back his self-respect, and found his compassion.
Well, almost no regrets.
No telling how long he would ‘live’ now, but Archer did have the sense that he could be 1,000 years old, and never forget the horror of just exactly how evil man could be toward man.
He would also never forget her.
Her strength, her stubbornness, her kindness; It had been so strong that she pulled him out of the numb darkness he had slipped into over the years. Showed him he just might still have a soul.
And now she was out there, somewhere. Living her life, hopefully, but still just as disconnected from him as if she were the one who had died.
He couldn’t rightly say what it was he felt now. They just hadn’t had the time to find out, and besides, people behave quite differently in crisis than they naturally would.
Gratitude seemed too small, and romance too large.
Maybe, then, call it mutual understanding. Mutual affection.
But the rub of it was that he would never know. That he might live until the end of time, and never know if she had just been saying things to comfort the dying. Part of him doubted it, but the other part, the part that was blackened and twisted by the horrors he had seen and done in his lifetime, said that through it all he could never be sure. That he would never know rest.
Never know peace.
The sound of his shot glass being refilled pulled him from his morbid reverie.
Danny blinked a couple of times, and tried to put all those thoughts back into their box.
Even now Archer was still, at his core, a survivor. He just couldn’t sit down and let atrophy take him over. Part of him hoped to make a fresh start here, in this crossroads on the roads to everywhere. Hoped that if he worked hard enough, he might find something close to peace here. Or at least be able to do things he felt like doing, rather than things he had to.
Archer would go on….he had nothing else.
This place.
Archer gave a soft sigh and shook his head at how strange his existence had become.
He had never really feared death, even when he was young, but he certainly hadn’t been keen on finding out what lay on the other side of that great divide. Strange to think that he hadn’t really found out now that he had crossed it.
Too damned for Hell, not good enough for heaven. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before, but it applied.
Gone from the world, and no one to miss him when he left.
…Well, maybe one person.
Archer shut his eyes briefly, then took the shot in one go in an effort to push away that particular thought. He didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to think about it.
About her.
The smoke curled away from the end of the cigarette in his hand, but he didn’t really see it. Instead he was looking down on canyon painted in shades of green, gold, and clay red.
The air is hot, and he can’t seem to get a decent breath around the fiery sword in his side. His arm is wet down to his hand. His blood dribbling away into the soil from a hole in his chest.
He’s having trouble feeling his legs.
But…none of it really matters. He can hear Maddy’s voice, choked with tears, rich with emotion, and sounding more, and more distant, though he knows it has nothing to do with the sat-phone.
I’m really glad I met you too….and I wish I could be there with you right now.
That fiery weight is getting harder to breathe around, but he manages enough to tell her that it was alright. He was right where he belonged.
T.I.A…huh, Danny?
He’d been ready to rest. Ready to sleep and never wake up again. In a way he felt vaguely cheated that oblivion wasn’t for him.
But, it wasn’t terribly important. Maybe it’s a universal condition of the dead that they don’t mind their death. It felt oddly…freeing to be more able to really start again, than he had ever known could happen.
Maybe the reason Archer wasn’t singing in a chorus on a cloud right now was the fact he didn’t regret what he had done those last hours. He had won back his self-respect, and found his compassion.
Well, almost no regrets.
No telling how long he would ‘live’ now, but Archer did have the sense that he could be 1,000 years old, and never forget the horror of just exactly how evil man could be toward man.
He would also never forget her.
Her strength, her stubbornness, her kindness; It had been so strong that she pulled him out of the numb darkness he had slipped into over the years. Showed him he just might still have a soul.
And now she was out there, somewhere. Living her life, hopefully, but still just as disconnected from him as if she were the one who had died.
He couldn’t rightly say what it was he felt now. They just hadn’t had the time to find out, and besides, people behave quite differently in crisis than they naturally would.
Gratitude seemed too small, and romance too large.
Maybe, then, call it mutual understanding. Mutual affection.
But the rub of it was that he would never know. That he might live until the end of time, and never know if she had just been saying things to comfort the dying. Part of him doubted it, but the other part, the part that was blackened and twisted by the horrors he had seen and done in his lifetime, said that through it all he could never be sure. That he would never know rest.
Never know peace.
The sound of his shot glass being refilled pulled him from his morbid reverie.
Danny blinked a couple of times, and tried to put all those thoughts back into their box.
Even now Archer was still, at his core, a survivor. He just couldn’t sit down and let atrophy take him over. Part of him hoped to make a fresh start here, in this crossroads on the roads to everywhere. Hoped that if he worked hard enough, he might find something close to peace here. Or at least be able to do things he felt like doing, rather than things he had to.
Archer would go on….he had nothing else.