Archiving older fic: Yellow Sheets
Feb. 27th, 1999 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eve11Title: Yellow Sheets
Author: Eve11
Rating: G
Spoilers: Tithonus
Yellow Sheets
By Eve11
==================
A hand in front of my eyes.
Light, light coming from the curtains, and I want to scream, but I can't force sound from my throat. I can't... my mind is blank and sour and all I hear is his tired, tired voice.
yellow sheets
I smell earth and rot and death.
they wrapped them in, in yellow sheets, and the yellow sheets'd stick up through the mud
I am going to die. I believe him. I believe him because of the yellow sheets. I am going to die here, in a room as dark and hungry as the bowels of the earth.
In the space between the curtains, an apparition takes a perfect shooter's stance, and I watch with my mind enveloped in a yellow sheet. The light is sick and diffuse. My ears absorb the explosion like cotton.
I see it all in a slow-motion haze.
The bullet doubles him over and enters me.
I know, oh god I know the pain is coming.
This thought, fear, dread: this is all I have left before it sweeps me into its firm grasp. White fire and his slow, murmuring voice explode all at once in my mind, not enough time, not enough to hear it one word at a time.
count your blessings make your peace
The words are a sickness. I hear them in each agonizing wave of consciousness... too much, make it stop...
make your peace
I feel a cool embrace, a balm, and I fall into it.
The yellow haze dulls my senses, separates me from the gagging, retching body on the floor. I see nothing, hear nothing. The darkness closes in, the cold dissipates, and I am wrapped in a
sour blanket, waiting.
can't move.
(Far away, the pressure of a hand is not enough to bring me back. "Oh god, Dana... oh god... I need some help up here!...")
can't fight.
(A thought tries to worm its way into my coccoon. I catch the hint of a face... gray-green eyes that beg me to stay with them, and the apparition melts away)
can't breathe.
The waiting is almost over, and I sense a deep, thick chill. A pressure. The mud is swallowing my body, blanket and all. There is not enough of me left to panic. I am falling, feeling the last of my thoughts absorbed into the earth, when the voice reaches me.
do you see him?
The words are talons, twisting into me, slicing through my shroud. Deep yellows surge to sharp white agony. My mind wakes in the shock, and I am allowed thoughts again, for a moment. See... see...
I see no fever-induced hallucinations.
can you see him?
The voice strips my defenses, and I scream at it to stop, let me go. I try to retreat, wrap the nothingness around me, and in the coccoon, I see his hazel eyes.
I see him.
Empty.
Abandoned.
I don't want to leave him. I reach for him, following those haunted eyes down into the blackness...
don't look at it
The voice is like hooks tearing into my skin and dragging me back. It is the last thing I want to do. I can't listen. I need to reach him, to comfort him. I can't abandon him now. I struggle against the voice, pushing it away, until he is all I see. And I follow him.
But the further I go, the worse it gets. Always, he is right out of my reach, hurting, screaming, crying. In a panic, I realize I will never reach him this way.
Never, and when I'm gone this grief will consume him.
I try to stop, but there is nothing to hold on to.
no...
close your eyes
The darkness groans and flickers.
This time, though it feels like fire, I listen. I tear my gaze away and feel the heavy, nauseating pressure of suffocation and pain. The shroud is there, a sickly yellow sheet sticking up through the mud. I can't embrace it now. In the face of blinding anguish, I struggle to breathe, anything to leave that vision behind.
As I take a gulp of air, I feel a shade move past me, sieze the shroud with panicked greed, and melt into my open grave. Only then do I let the swimming darkness take me.
==================
I wake to a choking presence in my throat and the sound of his voice.
"Shh... it's okay, Scully. You're in a hospital. You're safe. Don't try to fight the respirator..."
Respirator... I relax and feel a rush of air forced into my lungs. Even that small movement causes my side to burn.
I am only too ready to fall into oblivion again, but first I open my eyes -- only for a second, but it is long enough for me to see that I can reach him, and that the sheets are white.
==================
-------------------
Author: Eve11
Rating: G
Spoilers: Tithonus
Yellow Sheets
By Eve11
==================
A hand in front of my eyes.
Light, light coming from the curtains, and I want to scream, but I can't force sound from my throat. I can't... my mind is blank and sour and all I hear is his tired, tired voice.
yellow sheets
I smell earth and rot and death.
they wrapped them in, in yellow sheets, and the yellow sheets'd stick up through the mud
I am going to die. I believe him. I believe him because of the yellow sheets. I am going to die here, in a room as dark and hungry as the bowels of the earth.
In the space between the curtains, an apparition takes a perfect shooter's stance, and I watch with my mind enveloped in a yellow sheet. The light is sick and diffuse. My ears absorb the explosion like cotton.
I see it all in a slow-motion haze.
The bullet doubles him over and enters me.
I know, oh god I know the pain is coming.
This thought, fear, dread: this is all I have left before it sweeps me into its firm grasp. White fire and his slow, murmuring voice explode all at once in my mind, not enough time, not enough to hear it one word at a time.
count your blessings make your peace
The words are a sickness. I hear them in each agonizing wave of consciousness... too much, make it stop...
make your peace
I feel a cool embrace, a balm, and I fall into it.
The yellow haze dulls my senses, separates me from the gagging, retching body on the floor. I see nothing, hear nothing. The darkness closes in, the cold dissipates, and I am wrapped in a
sour blanket, waiting.
can't move.
(Far away, the pressure of a hand is not enough to bring me back. "Oh god, Dana... oh god... I need some help up here!...")
can't fight.
(A thought tries to worm its way into my coccoon. I catch the hint of a face... gray-green eyes that beg me to stay with them, and the apparition melts away)
can't breathe.
The waiting is almost over, and I sense a deep, thick chill. A pressure. The mud is swallowing my body, blanket and all. There is not enough of me left to panic. I am falling, feeling the last of my thoughts absorbed into the earth, when the voice reaches me.
do you see him?
The words are talons, twisting into me, slicing through my shroud. Deep yellows surge to sharp white agony. My mind wakes in the shock, and I am allowed thoughts again, for a moment. See... see...
I see no fever-induced hallucinations.
can you see him?
The voice strips my defenses, and I scream at it to stop, let me go. I try to retreat, wrap the nothingness around me, and in the coccoon, I see his hazel eyes.
I see him.
Empty.
Abandoned.
I don't want to leave him. I reach for him, following those haunted eyes down into the blackness...
don't look at it
The voice is like hooks tearing into my skin and dragging me back. It is the last thing I want to do. I can't listen. I need to reach him, to comfort him. I can't abandon him now. I struggle against the voice, pushing it away, until he is all I see. And I follow him.
But the further I go, the worse it gets. Always, he is right out of my reach, hurting, screaming, crying. In a panic, I realize I will never reach him this way.
Never, and when I'm gone this grief will consume him.
I try to stop, but there is nothing to hold on to.
no...
close your eyes
The darkness groans and flickers.
This time, though it feels like fire, I listen. I tear my gaze away and feel the heavy, nauseating pressure of suffocation and pain. The shroud is there, a sickly yellow sheet sticking up through the mud. I can't embrace it now. In the face of blinding anguish, I struggle to breathe, anything to leave that vision behind.
As I take a gulp of air, I feel a shade move past me, sieze the shroud with panicked greed, and melt into my open grave. Only then do I let the swimming darkness take me.
==================
I wake to a choking presence in my throat and the sound of his voice.
"Shh... it's okay, Scully. You're in a hospital. You're safe. Don't try to fight the respirator..."
Respirator... I relax and feel a rush of air forced into my lungs. Even that small movement causes my side to burn.
I am only too ready to fall into oblivion again, but first I open my eyes -- only for a second, but it is long enough for me to see that I can reach him, and that the sheets are white.
==================
-------------------
