{original} Sweepback
Sweepback
(PG, for Firefly. prose, 1500 words.)
Notes: the version I submitted to Firefly had Rachel as Miriam instead, because there's a Rachel in the grade and I'm really weird about characters sharing names with people I know irl. /D I didn't want to change it to Miriam here because she feels more like a Rachel to me. ): ffff I can just tell that now Kyle and Williams are going to bug me all November.
You're up on the roof smoking and wishing you didn't; it's wet and cold and the white trails of your breath blend with the smoke when you exhale until you can't tell which is which anymore but they don't like it when you smoke inside. You might as well be breathing in nicotine instead of oxygen at this rate, you'll be that addicted soon. Or something. This isn't really doing you, or anyone, any favours in the long run but--
"Hey," a quiet voice says, interrupting your thoughts. You look over, and it's Kyle, next to your elbow, ignoring the breathy smoke (or the smoky breath; you could look at it that way too) that's inconveniently blowing right into his face. You're not doing it on purpose, but when you exhale the wind takes it straight from your lips to him. How awkward.
Well, this entire situation's pretty awkward - you've never really talked to Kyle at all, he's not the type of guy you're easily friends with. You don't really do much other than stare out at the grey cityline (fog's down, you're standing in the middle of a cloud right now, you think idly) as he does the same, occasionally brushing the leather of your jacket as he shifts around.
You'd like to go back - you figure your break's pretty much over - but for some reason you can't; for some reason you don't want to leave Kyle, Kyle Manequinn-whom-you've-never-talked-to-before by himself, staring out through a cloud at a grey city that doesn't seem to ever wake up.
"Let's go out for a drink tonight," he says, soft but clear, and for some reason that only part of you (and that part ain't telling) knows, you agree.
--
"Who taught you how to fight?" you taunt, bouncing on the balls of your feet as Kyle gets back up slowly, wiping away the trace of blood near the corner of his mouth. He doesn't say anything, just lunges at you, eyes dark while you dodge and get his arm all twisted up behind his back.
"I win," you say, grinning, twisting his wrist just that little bit more for him to be completely immobile, unless he wants something to break. He glares daggers at you.
"Congrats, Williams," he finally manages to grit out, eyes screaming bloody murder the entire time.
--
"They met up yesterday," Neil says quietly to Rachel, as he looks not-so-discreetly over his shoulder at the two chatting further down the hallway.
"I saw," Rachel says. She has the decency - or rather, the skill - to not look as if she's watching them closer.
"You knew-- wait, then what are we going to do?" Neil asks. He frowns, and looks back quickly at Rachel as Kyle looks their way briefly.
"Nothing," Rachel says, and her voice is just quiet and low enough that Neil can hear the way that this isn't what she wants. "Kyle started it. You're not going to be able to get him to stop it now."
--
You open your eyes and Rachel comes into focus, looking at you all concerned-like. Your head feels like it just got run over by the army's new 09X Limits, complete with explosions and noise and all.
"You're awake," Rachel says. Relief, and something else that you don't know. (Is it worry?)
"What happened?" you asks. Your voice is barely there from brief unuse, a layer of something clinging to the walls of your throat.
"Why don't you tell me?" Rachel looks at the ugly art above the sofa's headboard. "That's something we'd all like to know, Williams."
"I feel like I just got hit by a tank," you murmur, and try to sit up. "One of the big ones."
Rachel sighs. "Look, don't worry about--" she says, pushing you back down but you reach out a hand to push her back and leave a nice red handprint on her sweater.
"What the hell," you say blankly. You realize just now that your hand's covered in drying blood. "What the hell, Rachel." And then you realize that this isn't your apartment; this isn't anybody's apartment that you've been to. "Where are we? Oi, what's--"
"it was an accident," Rachel says, unnaturally calm. "Hit and run. Nothing major."
"Don't lie to me," you say, "you're really bad at it." The bruises that you know are there without even looking twinge. "I can tell you're not--"
"Time to go," someone says, landing a hand on the top of your head from behind. You look up. Neil looks impossibly tall from your vantage point. "Time to go," he says again, and you're not quite sure why his voice is about to crack.
--
Kyle is laughing, something you don't think you've ever seen and you join in with him, watching him smile and giving him one back in return. He really is a nice guy, you think idly, why haven't I talked to him before?
"Come over to my place someday," he says, eyes twinkling. "I've been told I make good food."
--
"You don't think he's changed," Neil says, setting down Kyle's caramel macchiato on the table top before taking a sip of his own drink. "Even though you still want to be friends with him."
"You think I'm an idiot," Kyle says, "don't you." He stares at the coffee in front of him as if it has all the answers he'll ever need to look for.
"I think," Neil says, "you have me on speed dial just in case. If anything happens, you know." He leaves a few coins behind to cover his drink before he stands up to leave.
Kyle checks his phone just in case.
--
You're not quite sure why Kyle wants to be friends with you; you both have different specialties and the only time you've ever had to work together was on that one raid, that one where the higher-ups decided to make freak-of-science mass-conglomerate of all the different projects - and even then you hadn't really talked past a few words.
It's interesting, having someone to sit with at lunch during breaks now. You'd always figured Kyle was one of those quiet, strong, don't-mess-with-me-otherwise-I'll-rip-out-your-teeth-in-secret-to-keep-my-rep-intact guys but he's not really, not at all.
But either way, you can comfortably call him a friend. Sometimes you even let yourself think of him as a close one. It's surprising: you didn't think he would - could - ever be one (to you).
--
"I told you," Kyle says exasperatedly, "don't smoke after dinner - or even indoors, actually. It makes things smell disgusting."
"Like you care," Williams says, blowing smoke into Kyle's face with little regard for him. "If you really hated it that much then why're you still talking to me?"
Kyle scowls. Williams looks over him, at the harsh angle of his shoulder blades as he rests his elbows on the railing that's just a little be high to be comfortable; at the pissed-off slouch in his legs and torso. His cigarette goes out. He lights another.
"At least put it out if we're going to fight again," Kyle says irritably.
Williams takes three careful steps, facing Kyle when he stops. "Who," he asks thoughtfully, "ever said we were going to fight again?"
The cigarette is dangerously close to the bare crook of Kyle's elbow.
--
"We don't really talk much anymore, Williams," Neil says thoughtfully, setting his lunch tray down next to yours.
You frown instinctively. "Sorry," you say, absentminded. The bland salad on your plate is looking vaguely more interesting.
"You don't really tell me much of anything anymore," Neil says. "Made new friends, or something?"
"Yeah - " you're kind of surprised, "how did you know? Did you see me with Kyle?"
"With Kyle?" Neil frowns. "Didn't we already go over this? When was this?"
You open your mouth to answer but Rachel calls for the two of you and you quietly let the subject drop.
--
"It's weird," you say. Kyle looks up from his paperwork, across his desk and at you. "I remember that I forgot something, but I don't know what it could be."
"Maybe that means you're not supposed to try," Kyle says hesitantly. His throat sounds dry; you toss him a bottle of water on reflex.
"It doesn't feel right," you frown. "Like, there was this one time when I woke up and I know Rachel was there, and it had something to do with you but I'm not sure what else happened - I just remember that it was important. I didn't tell anyone because I'd sound pretty crazy, but...it annoys me so much, you know?"
"Don't go there," Kyle says. His hand starts shaking and if it weren't for the fact that the bottle's capped it would've spilled already. "It's not really that interesting, or anyth--"
"But I don't know if we can really be friends until I remember."
--
"If he does," Neil says, "he's going to be too busy hating himself to be friends with you. Again." He slouches against the wall. "Catch-22, all over again."
Kyle sighs, sliding down the wall to squat on his heels, staring at the dirt gathered in the cracks in the concrete. Neil goes down too, ruffling Kyle's hair gently.
"At least," Neil says quietly, guiltily, "there's no blood this time."
--
Williams wakes up on Kyle's couch, jerking into awareness before he realizes he's up. "Kyle?" he asks. "You have pretty ugly art in your room, you know?"
But Kyle isn't there anymore.
(PG, for Firefly. prose, 1500 words.)
Notes: the version I submitted to Firefly had Rachel as Miriam instead, because there's a Rachel in the grade and I'm really weird about characters sharing names with people I know irl. /D I didn't want to change it to Miriam here because she feels more like a Rachel to me. ): ffff I can just tell that now Kyle and Williams are going to bug me all November.
You're up on the roof smoking and wishing you didn't; it's wet and cold and the white trails of your breath blend with the smoke when you exhale until you can't tell which is which anymore but they don't like it when you smoke inside. You might as well be breathing in nicotine instead of oxygen at this rate, you'll be that addicted soon. Or something. This isn't really doing you, or anyone, any favours in the long run but--
"Hey," a quiet voice says, interrupting your thoughts. You look over, and it's Kyle, next to your elbow, ignoring the breathy smoke (or the smoky breath; you could look at it that way too) that's inconveniently blowing right into his face. You're not doing it on purpose, but when you exhale the wind takes it straight from your lips to him. How awkward.
Well, this entire situation's pretty awkward - you've never really talked to Kyle at all, he's not the type of guy you're easily friends with. You don't really do much other than stare out at the grey cityline (fog's down, you're standing in the middle of a cloud right now, you think idly) as he does the same, occasionally brushing the leather of your jacket as he shifts around.
You'd like to go back - you figure your break's pretty much over - but for some reason you can't; for some reason you don't want to leave Kyle, Kyle Manequinn-whom-you've-never-talked-to-before by himself, staring out through a cloud at a grey city that doesn't seem to ever wake up.
"Let's go out for a drink tonight," he says, soft but clear, and for some reason that only part of you (and that part ain't telling) knows, you agree.
--
"Who taught you how to fight?" you taunt, bouncing on the balls of your feet as Kyle gets back up slowly, wiping away the trace of blood near the corner of his mouth. He doesn't say anything, just lunges at you, eyes dark while you dodge and get his arm all twisted up behind his back.
"I win," you say, grinning, twisting his wrist just that little bit more for him to be completely immobile, unless he wants something to break. He glares daggers at you.
"Congrats, Williams," he finally manages to grit out, eyes screaming bloody murder the entire time.
--
"They met up yesterday," Neil says quietly to Rachel, as he looks not-so-discreetly over his shoulder at the two chatting further down the hallway.
"I saw," Rachel says. She has the decency - or rather, the skill - to not look as if she's watching them closer.
"You knew-- wait, then what are we going to do?" Neil asks. He frowns, and looks back quickly at Rachel as Kyle looks their way briefly.
"Nothing," Rachel says, and her voice is just quiet and low enough that Neil can hear the way that this isn't what she wants. "Kyle started it. You're not going to be able to get him to stop it now."
--
You open your eyes and Rachel comes into focus, looking at you all concerned-like. Your head feels like it just got run over by the army's new 09X Limits, complete with explosions and noise and all.
"You're awake," Rachel says. Relief, and something else that you don't know. (Is it worry?)
"What happened?" you asks. Your voice is barely there from brief unuse, a layer of something clinging to the walls of your throat.
"Why don't you tell me?" Rachel looks at the ugly art above the sofa's headboard. "That's something we'd all like to know, Williams."
"I feel like I just got hit by a tank," you murmur, and try to sit up. "One of the big ones."
Rachel sighs. "Look, don't worry about--" she says, pushing you back down but you reach out a hand to push her back and leave a nice red handprint on her sweater.
"What the hell," you say blankly. You realize just now that your hand's covered in drying blood. "What the hell, Rachel." And then you realize that this isn't your apartment; this isn't anybody's apartment that you've been to. "Where are we? Oi, what's--"
"it was an accident," Rachel says, unnaturally calm. "Hit and run. Nothing major."
"Don't lie to me," you say, "you're really bad at it." The bruises that you know are there without even looking twinge. "I can tell you're not--"
"Time to go," someone says, landing a hand on the top of your head from behind. You look up. Neil looks impossibly tall from your vantage point. "Time to go," he says again, and you're not quite sure why his voice is about to crack.
--
Kyle is laughing, something you don't think you've ever seen and you join in with him, watching him smile and giving him one back in return. He really is a nice guy, you think idly, why haven't I talked to him before?
"Come over to my place someday," he says, eyes twinkling. "I've been told I make good food."
--
"You don't think he's changed," Neil says, setting down Kyle's caramel macchiato on the table top before taking a sip of his own drink. "Even though you still want to be friends with him."
"You think I'm an idiot," Kyle says, "don't you." He stares at the coffee in front of him as if it has all the answers he'll ever need to look for.
"I think," Neil says, "you have me on speed dial just in case. If anything happens, you know." He leaves a few coins behind to cover his drink before he stands up to leave.
Kyle checks his phone just in case.
--
You're not quite sure why Kyle wants to be friends with you; you both have different specialties and the only time you've ever had to work together was on that one raid, that one where the higher-ups decided to make freak-of-science mass-conglomerate of all the different projects - and even then you hadn't really talked past a few words.
It's interesting, having someone to sit with at lunch during breaks now. You'd always figured Kyle was one of those quiet, strong, don't-mess-with-me-otherwise-I'll-rip-out-your-teeth-in-secret-to-keep-my-rep-intact guys but he's not really, not at all.
But either way, you can comfortably call him a friend. Sometimes you even let yourself think of him as a close one. It's surprising: you didn't think he would - could - ever be one (to you).
--
"I told you," Kyle says exasperatedly, "don't smoke after dinner - or even indoors, actually. It makes things smell disgusting."
"Like you care," Williams says, blowing smoke into Kyle's face with little regard for him. "If you really hated it that much then why're you still talking to me?"
Kyle scowls. Williams looks over him, at the harsh angle of his shoulder blades as he rests his elbows on the railing that's just a little be high to be comfortable; at the pissed-off slouch in his legs and torso. His cigarette goes out. He lights another.
"At least put it out if we're going to fight again," Kyle says irritably.
Williams takes three careful steps, facing Kyle when he stops. "Who," he asks thoughtfully, "ever said we were going to fight again?"
The cigarette is dangerously close to the bare crook of Kyle's elbow.
--
"We don't really talk much anymore, Williams," Neil says thoughtfully, setting his lunch tray down next to yours.
You frown instinctively. "Sorry," you say, absentminded. The bland salad on your plate is looking vaguely more interesting.
"You don't really tell me much of anything anymore," Neil says. "Made new friends, or something?"
"Yeah - " you're kind of surprised, "how did you know? Did you see me with Kyle?"
"With Kyle?" Neil frowns. "Didn't we already go over this? When was this?"
You open your mouth to answer but Rachel calls for the two of you and you quietly let the subject drop.
--
"It's weird," you say. Kyle looks up from his paperwork, across his desk and at you. "I remember that I forgot something, but I don't know what it could be."
"Maybe that means you're not supposed to try," Kyle says hesitantly. His throat sounds dry; you toss him a bottle of water on reflex.
"It doesn't feel right," you frown. "Like, there was this one time when I woke up and I know Rachel was there, and it had something to do with you but I'm not sure what else happened - I just remember that it was important. I didn't tell anyone because I'd sound pretty crazy, but...it annoys me so much, you know?"
"Don't go there," Kyle says. His hand starts shaking and if it weren't for the fact that the bottle's capped it would've spilled already. "It's not really that interesting, or anyth--"
"But I don't know if we can really be friends until I remember."
--
"If he does," Neil says, "he's going to be too busy hating himself to be friends with you. Again." He slouches against the wall. "Catch-22, all over again."
Kyle sighs, sliding down the wall to squat on his heels, staring at the dirt gathered in the cracks in the concrete. Neil goes down too, ruffling Kyle's hair gently.
"At least," Neil says quietly, guiltily, "there's no blood this time."
--
Williams wakes up on Kyle's couch, jerking into awareness before he realizes he's up. "Kyle?" he asks. "You have pretty ugly art in your room, you know?"
But Kyle isn't there anymore.