graveyardboots | (no subject)

The bombs fall and they hide in a church. Pope declares them chosen and it fits with what Mancea hears; the voice he hears now in the place of the scream of bombs falling.

Then the bombs keep falling and they get separated. He takes Gabe and a corpsman and he runs for the woods. It's instinctive. The corpsman is injured, though, and Mancea finds them a cabin to rest in. But the prognosis isn't good.

"What will we do?" he asks Gabe quietly one night. "I don't think I can save her. God says she is meant for paradise."

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From:

graveyardboots

I still love you, he thinks, but it isn't the time to say it, is it? Instead he just strokes Gabe's cheek before he pulls back.

"Let's try to get some rest. I'll take first watch."

From:

minuteofangle

"Yeah," Gabe agrees, too tired to argue. They're relatively safe, at least for the moment. There are walls, no moaning dead trying to eat them. Mancea's injuries aren't severe - yet. Vickers isn't dead yet.

That could change. It might tomorrow. Gabe doesn't have much faith in God these days, but he believes in Mancea. He believes in what the two of them can do together.

"Wake me when it's my turn," Gabe murmurs, and shifts to settle back in his chair. He holds Vicker's hand.

From:

graveyardboots

Mancea puts another log on the little fire they have going, determined to keep Vickers warm even if they can't do much else for her. And then he patrols the perimeter, murmuring little prayers, seeing if God will answer with a voice like He did in the church. Like He had that morning when Mancea asked about the hospital.

Eight hours later he wakes Gabe. "It's not long before dawn," he murmurs. "Wake me in two hours."

From:

minuteofangle

This time, no dreams follow Gabe. He closes his eyes and he’s just gone, lost inside himself. Too exhausted even for anxiety to take him down the road.

He stirs with a groan, rubbing at his face. Hungry as fuck. “You let me sleep too long,” he murmurs. “Asshole.”

There’s not much venom, though. He understands the impulse.

From:

graveyardboots

"You needed it," Mancea says. Pacing all night was good for him; his head feels clear even if he's ready to sleep for a hundred years now. "I have a granola bar in my pack if you want it."

From:

minuteofangle

We both need it, Gabe doesn’t say. He stands himself up carefully, ins hand braced against the wall to steady himself. His white cane got lost in the chaos but he’s got a big stick that’s almost as good; he doesn’t reach for it, though. Not quite yet.

“Split it with me. We need the calories.”

And he’s not in the mood to humor Mancea’s impulses toward self sacrifice. Not today.

From:

graveyardboots

Anyone else and Mancea would have argued or insisted or even ordered them to take the whole thing. But Gabe won't abide that, and he knows it, so he breaks it in half and offers it.

"We should savor it. I have a feeling it will be some time before we have chocolate chips again."

From:

minuteofangle

No argument—good. Gabe sighs, acknowledging the sad fucking truth that they probably won’t have chocolate for a while or maybe ever again. He eats his half of the bar slowly, savoring the taste, thankful that it’s not stale enough they need to soak that shit in water to soften it up.

The chocolate tastes damn good.

“World’s different now, isn’t it?”

From:

graveyardboots

"Different," he agrees, chewing slowly. "But not gone yet."

God is still there. Louder than ever before. That means something.

"The others made it out. Once Vickers is stable we'll start looking for them."

From:

minuteofangle

"Not yet," Gabe agrees. And in that there's possibility if not precisely hope. Gabe's never been one to hit a wall and give up. It's cost him sometimes. He's taken more scars because of it. But he's still alive, in the end.

That's something, right?

He shifts to bump his arm against Mancea's. "Maybe you got faith enough for both of us."

He thinks Vickers is going to die. But maybe not. They'll operate like she'll make it until she doesn't.

From:

graveyardboots

He leans against Gabe a moment, before he lies down. He casts a worried look at Vickers.

"I can keep the faith," he agrees. God hasn't said anything about Vickers getting better, is the thing. But they have to try. They won't just leave her.

At least he has Gabe. There's no one he'd rather be with, even under the circumstances. "I think you'll find your faith too, though."

From:

minuteofangle

Gabe hums and lays his hand on Mancea’s shoulder, reaching for his stick with the other. He worries about being on watch; there are things he just doesn’t notice anymore, details he misses that the others wouldn’t. But his hearing is still good despite how many gunshots he’s been around. He has training. And the simple truth is that Mancea needs sleep, too.

“Rest,” he says, instead of making any promises about faith. “I got you.”

He’s always loved Mancea. And for Gabe, love involves trust.

From:

graveyardboots

Mancea lays his hand on Gabe's lap, allowing himself this little comfort. He falls asleep that way, and only wakes after few hours, jerking awake hard, reaching for a gun.

From:

minuteofangle

“Easy.”

Gabe lays his hand on Mancea’s head, his own voice calm and slow. Controlled. It’s not the first time one of them has startled awake. If it goes violent, that won’t be the first time either.

“It’s just me.”

Vickers is still breathing. Beyond that, Gabe can’t say.

From:

graveyardboots

He looks up at Gabe, slowly remembering where they are. He reaches up, brushing his hand along Gabe's cheek. Then he sits up.

"Has Vickers moved?"

From:

minuteofangle

"No."

He resists the urge to press into Mancea's hand, to linger here. They have work to do.

"She doesn't sound worse, at least."

From:

graveyardboots

That's something. If they can keep her stable maybe she'll mend.

He sighs and rubs his face. "Ready to get to scavenging?"

From:

minuteofangle

“Yep.”

Ready as he’ll ever be. Gabe exhales and scrubs at his face again.

“You’re gonna have to guide me. I thought about doing a tether like when we go jogging, but there’re too many ways that could go wrong.”

If they get tangled up on something, they’ll get each other killed.

“So, you’re gonna have to take point. You good with that?”

From:

graveyardboots

"All right." Truth be told he prefers taking point with Gabe. He can face danger firsthand, and he can clear the path for Gabe to follow.

He gives Vickers a little water. She stirs only long enough to swallow a few mouthfuls. Better than yesterday, though, even if she still feels feverish.

"Let's go," he murmurs to Gabe once they're packed up. It's a long walk, but he takes his time to be sure Gabe won't stumble.

From:

minuteofangle

In the end, they don’t have much fear to pack up. That’s half the problem right there. They’ve gotten separated from the group and now the world’s gone fucking crazy on them, lost the thread in a way the universe doesn’t seem inclined to knot off properly. Maybe this is just the shape the world’s going to take now.

Gabe packs what shit he can and gets his stick. And when the time comes, he takes Mancea’s arm. This part, at least, he’s good at. “No big risks without big rewards,” he murmurs. “Let’s agree now.”

From:

graveyardboots

"Getting saline for you and antibiotics for Vickers is a big reward," he says, so Gabe knows where Mancea's head is at. He's going to provide for his people if he possibly can.

"But I'll tell you the numbers and the risks when we find them and you can tell me if it's worth it."

From:

minuteofangle

Gabe puffs out a breath. Worst part is he can't argue. They need medical supplies. Vickers might die. Will probably die no matter what they do. And Mancea's cut needs to be treated properly or he might get sick too, compounding the issue.

Nothing here is without risk. Not a single goddamn thing.

"Okay," he agrees unhappily. This is just where they find themselves. "But leave the heroics to me, kay?"