Take You In Pieces (1/1)
Title: Take You In Pieces
Genre: Television
Show: Tin Man
Characters: D.G., Wyatt Cain
Spoilers: N/A
Rating: PG
Summary: Their worst nightmare, faced together.
She placed her hands against the parts of the door that were within reach and fought back the urge to use her light to pull it apart. She knew he was on the other side, couldn't see him and couldn't hear him, but even if the others hadn't told her he was there she'd have known. Around her workers were busy pulling at beams and stone, trying to free her Tin Man, but DG couldn't worry about their efforts when she was too busy worrying for him.
“Wyatt? Can you hear me?” She called through the door, but she feared the thick wood would keep her voice from reaching him. He didn't reply, no noise from the other side, and there was no vibration of movement that she could detect. “They were working on the marble floor upstairs and there was a cave-in down here. They're trying to get everything out of the way so we can get the door open. Are you hurt? Did the ceiling fall in there? I can try blasting it open if you want, but Lavender-Eyes thinks that could destabilize the corridor and cause another cave-in.” She kept her voice as calm and stable as she could, but she was almost frantic to get to him.
It was one of the things they shared, a fear of dark airless places, his fear born from years in the iron suit, hers from being locked in a tomb by her sister.
“Deeg?
She was almost startled when his voice forced its way through the barrier between them. “Wyatt? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I'm...” He hesitated before answering and DG's nails scraped lightly at the wood of the door as her hands curled into fists. She hated being there like that, so close but unable to reach him to help, unable to even see his face and answer the needs that were hidden there. “I'm not hurt,” Cain spoke again, his voice stronger and more confident, but his next words revealing his struggle. “It's dark in here, the collapse took out the lamps. It's getting hot, too. Really hot.”
She could remember a conversation they'd once had about his time within the suit. He'd never been cold in the suit, between his breathing and the small minute movements, the little air he could get was hot and moist and cloying in his throat. Every drop of sweat that slid down his skin was a razor of sensation and the only thing he felt other than his body brushing against the boundaries of his prison.
DG watched as the space before the door was cleared and as soon as she could she pressed herself tightly to the door and began to speak. “We're in the cellar, Wyatt, it can't be hot. It's cold down here. Place your hands on the walls, do you feel the stone? It's cold. It's not slick metal, it's rough and so cold.” She could hear movement on the other side of the door, but it was eclipsed by the sound of movement around her. “They've almost got the door clear, just...focus on breathing. Focus on me.” Even as she said the words the workers cleared the last of the debris. She reached for the door and pulled it open, ignoring the harsh groan of protest it emitted under her jerky motion. “Wyatt?”
He was standing there, blinking into the sudden light, his fingers splayed across the wall, fingers crooked just slightly as if gouging through the stone. His face was pale and it wasn't just the adrenaline of being locked in the wine room. DG reached for him, herself unwilling to cross the threshold into the smothering walls, and he took her hand and let her pull him from the shadows. If his fingers shook just a bit as she held them too tightly, neither would ever admit it.
_____
Review, please.
Genre: Television
Show: Tin Man
Characters: D.G., Wyatt Cain
Spoilers: N/A
Rating: PG
Summary: Their worst nightmare, faced together.
She placed her hands against the parts of the door that were within reach and fought back the urge to use her light to pull it apart. She knew he was on the other side, couldn't see him and couldn't hear him, but even if the others hadn't told her he was there she'd have known. Around her workers were busy pulling at beams and stone, trying to free her Tin Man, but DG couldn't worry about their efforts when she was too busy worrying for him.
“Wyatt? Can you hear me?” She called through the door, but she feared the thick wood would keep her voice from reaching him. He didn't reply, no noise from the other side, and there was no vibration of movement that she could detect. “They were working on the marble floor upstairs and there was a cave-in down here. They're trying to get everything out of the way so we can get the door open. Are you hurt? Did the ceiling fall in there? I can try blasting it open if you want, but Lavender-Eyes thinks that could destabilize the corridor and cause another cave-in.” She kept her voice as calm and stable as she could, but she was almost frantic to get to him.
It was one of the things they shared, a fear of dark airless places, his fear born from years in the iron suit, hers from being locked in a tomb by her sister.
“Deeg?
She was almost startled when his voice forced its way through the barrier between them. “Wyatt? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I'm...” He hesitated before answering and DG's nails scraped lightly at the wood of the door as her hands curled into fists. She hated being there like that, so close but unable to reach him to help, unable to even see his face and answer the needs that were hidden there. “I'm not hurt,” Cain spoke again, his voice stronger and more confident, but his next words revealing his struggle. “It's dark in here, the collapse took out the lamps. It's getting hot, too. Really hot.”
She could remember a conversation they'd once had about his time within the suit. He'd never been cold in the suit, between his breathing and the small minute movements, the little air he could get was hot and moist and cloying in his throat. Every drop of sweat that slid down his skin was a razor of sensation and the only thing he felt other than his body brushing against the boundaries of his prison.
DG watched as the space before the door was cleared and as soon as she could she pressed herself tightly to the door and began to speak. “We're in the cellar, Wyatt, it can't be hot. It's cold down here. Place your hands on the walls, do you feel the stone? It's cold. It's not slick metal, it's rough and so cold.” She could hear movement on the other side of the door, but it was eclipsed by the sound of movement around her. “They've almost got the door clear, just...focus on breathing. Focus on me.” Even as she said the words the workers cleared the last of the debris. She reached for the door and pulled it open, ignoring the harsh groan of protest it emitted under her jerky motion. “Wyatt?”
He was standing there, blinking into the sudden light, his fingers splayed across the wall, fingers crooked just slightly as if gouging through the stone. His face was pale and it wasn't just the adrenaline of being locked in the wine room. DG reached for him, herself unwilling to cross the threshold into the smothering walls, and he took her hand and let her pull him from the shadows. If his fingers shook just a bit as she held them too tightly, neither would ever admit it.
_____
Review, please.