Brother
Brother
Henry/Amber, dystopia!au, G, 507 words
The bonds of kin are not easily broken. For hc_bingo, prompt: unconsciousness.
A/N: In the same 'verse as this if you squint really hard.
He was breathing.
The important thing was that he was breathing.
Amber only had to see him alive.
It wouldn’t do to have him dead. They were brothers, he was her brother - her brother, her family; there was no way he would leave her like this. No way, not like this, not because of this. Because of her.
She could cry. She was a girl, it could be in her to cry.
The tears wouldn’t come.
Amber slouched in the plastic chair, likely designed for bigger people in mind because she kept slipping back into the large groove of the seat. She felt small and slight in it, along with the room. The sun shone, barely enough to bounce off the bright blue-green of the walls. The color itself was enough to say just how old this hospital was, painted in the days when it had meaning to splash something other than a blindingly sterile white to comfort patients. When it still had meaning to comfort patients.
“I can’t cry for you like this,” she said to the limp body before her. “Henry. If you wake up, I’ll cry for you to see. You know you’ve always wanted to see me break down like a girl.”
The jibe felt stale and she wondered if she’d always realized how meaningless things were without a companion whose consciousness had been sure. Maybe she’d always known that living would mean nothing if there weren’t any of Henry’s stupid jokes around. Stupid jokes. Stupidly human jokes.
Amber leaned forward, propping her elbows at the edge of his bed. His hair was a mess and his face a mask of sweat. The room was like all the others, controlled by the main console approximately eighty-three levels above them. The facilities were the best of the best and the System loved detached humanoids like them. No parental units, and every potential to be a great tool.
“And like every great tool...” Amber whispered.
They can’t take him away.
She could hear the whirs of a droid passing through outside. The breach would be detected soon.
She dove forward, brushing his oily cheek with her lips. “Brother.” She wished she could wash his face for him.
The window was open and the light of day was at its peak. Amber walked near it, looking out and down the seventeen stories to clean pavement. Across, cargo tanks lined along what the masses called the Chrome, a set of vehicle channels called so for its shining, metallic lambency. The troopers called it off-limits.
“Lunch hour’s over. Looks like I need to get going... brother.” Call me brother. Say my name. Please. You swore you’d never forget.
He was breathing. He was alive. It was all she could ask for now. “I’ll save you yet,” she said.
Her glance lingered on him only a moment.
BREEEEWEW! INTRUDER! BREEEEWEW! INTRUDER!
He would never forget. He would never let them make him forget, was her last thought before jumping out the window.
fin.
-
As a note, I may or may not be doing a sequel and/or prequel drabble to explain why they call each other brothers (and therefore, the significance of kinship terms in this AU).
Henry/Amber, dystopia!au, G, 507 words
The bonds of kin are not easily broken. For hc_bingo, prompt: unconsciousness.
A/N: In the same 'verse as this if you squint really hard.
He was breathing.
The important thing was that he was breathing.
Amber only had to see him alive.
It wouldn’t do to have him dead. They were brothers, he was her brother - her brother, her family; there was no way he would leave her like this. No way, not like this, not because of this. Because of her.
She could cry. She was a girl, it could be in her to cry.
The tears wouldn’t come.
Amber slouched in the plastic chair, likely designed for bigger people in mind because she kept slipping back into the large groove of the seat. She felt small and slight in it, along with the room. The sun shone, barely enough to bounce off the bright blue-green of the walls. The color itself was enough to say just how old this hospital was, painted in the days when it had meaning to splash something other than a blindingly sterile white to comfort patients. When it still had meaning to comfort patients.
“I can’t cry for you like this,” she said to the limp body before her. “Henry. If you wake up, I’ll cry for you to see. You know you’ve always wanted to see me break down like a girl.”
The jibe felt stale and she wondered if she’d always realized how meaningless things were without a companion whose consciousness had been sure. Maybe she’d always known that living would mean nothing if there weren’t any of Henry’s stupid jokes around. Stupid jokes. Stupidly human jokes.
Amber leaned forward, propping her elbows at the edge of his bed. His hair was a mess and his face a mask of sweat. The room was like all the others, controlled by the main console approximately eighty-three levels above them. The facilities were the best of the best and the System loved detached humanoids like them. No parental units, and every potential to be a great tool.
“And like every great tool...” Amber whispered.
They can’t take him away.
She could hear the whirs of a droid passing through outside. The breach would be detected soon.
She dove forward, brushing his oily cheek with her lips. “Brother.” She wished she could wash his face for him.
The window was open and the light of day was at its peak. Amber walked near it, looking out and down the seventeen stories to clean pavement. Across, cargo tanks lined along what the masses called the Chrome, a set of vehicle channels called so for its shining, metallic lambency. The troopers called it off-limits.
“Lunch hour’s over. Looks like I need to get going... brother.” Call me brother. Say my name. Please. You swore you’d never forget.
He was breathing. He was alive. It was all she could ask for now. “I’ll save you yet,” she said.
Her glance lingered on him only a moment.
BREEEEWEW! INTRUDER! BREEEEWEW! INTRUDER!
He would never forget. He would never let them make him forget, was her last thought before jumping out the window.
fin.
-
As a note, I may or may not be doing a sequel and/or prequel drabble to explain why they call each other brothers (and therefore, the significance of kinship terms in this AU).