Steve Burnside (
craaazyisland) wrote in
trans_92010-11-09 01:29 pm
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There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]
It took a few moments for any thoughts to register for Steve when he opened his eyes. He recognized the inside of a quarantine bubble, that was for sure, but it took him longer to recognize the medical equipment hooked up to him, an IV in his arm and bandages wrapped around his bare shoulder and in a few other spots.
It didn't take long to recognize the feeling of having been run over by a truck, either. Every bone in his body ached, and even the slightest movement made him want to groan. It felt like he'd been asleep for a month-- a dreamless sleep, preceded by blurry, disconnected memories of what felt like a dream.
Memories of something he desperately, desperately hoped was just a dream. He had a sinking feeling it wasn't and part of him knew it to be the truth. But desperately hoping was the only way he could keep himself from screaming, which would hurt, so he'd keep on with that desperate hope anyway.
Steve lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he stayed quiet they'd think he was still asleep, and he could put the truth and all the fear and sorrow that came with it off a while longer.
It didn't take long to recognize the feeling of having been run over by a truck, either. Every bone in his body ached, and even the slightest movement made him want to groan. It felt like he'd been asleep for a month-- a dreamless sleep, preceded by blurry, disconnected memories of what felt like a dream.
Memories of something he desperately, desperately hoped was just a dream. He had a sinking feeling it wasn't and part of him knew it to be the truth. But desperately hoping was the only way he could keep himself from screaming, which would hurt, so he'd keep on with that desperate hope anyway.
Steve lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he stayed quiet they'd think he was still asleep, and he could put the truth and all the fear and sorrow that came with it off a while longer.
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Yzak wondered briefly if this happened on Stacy before. But if this T-Veronica virus was something from the world Steve came from... Well. It didn't really matter too much now, did it? Steve said it himself; they most likely wouldn't have to worry about it happening again.
"Oh. Right. I didn't think of that..." Yzak cringed inwardly, just imagining the feeling of changing his shape so drastically.
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"At least I didn't keel over this time," he muttered. Maybe he was trying to shock Yzak or just emphasize how terrible his situation was to make him feel bad. Or maybe the thought had been haunting him for a while and he had to express it to the first convenient person. Who knew?
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Now that was a strange thing to say, though the message got through to him clearly enough. People have died here before, and there was no power able to bring them back. On the other hand, when it came to waking up on Stacy... and how old was Steve? Maybe a couple of years younger than he was, but he was probably a Natural. To have to deal with shit like that and then die at that age...
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Sure, Yzak thought, there'd be crewmembers who'd possibly avoid Steve as a result of this ... but that was their business. And as long as their feelings weren't getting in the way of taking care of more important things, he knew at least he wouldn't give a damn if he were in that position.
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"And what if somebody had died? You wanna tell me they'd just be like, 'Oh well, no big deal'?"
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Shrugging, he rubbed his arm. "But that didn't happen."
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He rolled his eyes and glared pointedly in the opposite direction from Yzak. "I just want to be left alone. Nobody cared about me before all this bullshit happened, they should go back to not caring about me."