07-24-2013, 12:57 AM
Continued from Memories
"The Hard Way"
Michael could smell the blood before he entered the room. He seized what power he could and prepared for the worst.
Tony sat on the plain grey couch in front of the TV as he usually did, but the seat was now stained red. Tony had taken off his shirt and wrapped it around the wound just below his heart. His eyes were closed tight against the pain, but his breathing was still steady.
"Tony, I'm back. Have you called an ambulance? You need to get to the hospital."
Tony opened his eyes with some effort. He looked exhausted. "No. I can't go to a hospital. The CCD will be sniffing around."
Michael closed his phone reluctantly, kneeling beside the golden haired man. "Damn it, Tony."
It felt like he was saying that a lot lately. "Why?"
His voice sounded hollow and distant, but he needed the trance-like calm the meditative state gave him.
Tony smiled, his mouth blessedly clear of blood. "Would you like to explain how that fellow's blood froze?" He nodded towards the basement.
"You - What? You froze his blood! How the hell did you do that!? That's crazy, even for you!"
It seemed his calm wasn't as perfect as he thought. But now was not the time, questions could come later.
Taking a deep breath, Michael went on. "Forget that. Tell me how you expect to survive with a hole in your chest. I assume you want me to do something?"
"Yes, I thought it would be good for your training." Tony tried to laugh, but the pain stopped him.
Serves you right, you reckless bastard.
Michael didn't trust himself to speak. Whatever the man said, his eyes were deadly serious.
"I would ask you to heal me with the power - it didn't work when I tried it myself - but you are shit at that." A pause.
The bastard was fishing for a reaction!
Michael didn't oblige.
"There is something you can do though. The blade didn't hit any important parts, blood loss is what's killing me. I need you to cauterize the wound."
Michael wasn't amused. "Are you mad? I'm not going to set you on fire."
Tony's face turned sober. "I am many things; mad is not one of them. If you do not learn, you will die - I will die. I will not leave you as helpless as I have been!"
Michael was taken aback. He had never seen the man so passionate. He let none of it show on his face. He needed control, now more than ever.
Ready, he unwound the makeshift bandage and glanced up at Tony's face. "This will likely hurt."
The man nodded, and Michael bound the man with Air, careful not to smother him.
Gritting his teeth, Michael wove a thread of Fire, delicate, balanced. With infinite care, he inched it towards the wound. He strained to keep the thread razor thin. It flared and dimmed, but it grew tighter each time he forced it back into line.
As he touched the thread to flesh, it sizzled, disturbingly similar to meat on a barbecue. Michael had no time for more than a fragment of a thought, intent on his goal. He could feel Tony straining against his bonds, but resisted the urge to work faster.
With agonizing precision, he cauterized the wound, leaving no room for infection to grow. When he finished, he released the bonds and Tony sagged against the couch in exhausted sleep.
Michael tried to rise and found himself off balance, swaying on his feet. He did not know exactly how much time had passed, but it must have been hours, the sun dimming outside the window.
Michael's muscles ached, and the chill bore into his skin and bones.
He knew it was a stupid idea, but he was too tired to care. He wove wavering threads of Air and Fire with extra care.
The room was suddenly hit with a wave of warmth, and Michael felt a surge of pleasure.
No fires. Not even a small one.
It was not enough to cheer his troubled thoughts. He still had the dead assassin to deal with and he had not forgotten the price of his victory. He knew he had learned the hard way.
"The Hard Way"
Michael could smell the blood before he entered the room. He seized what power he could and prepared for the worst.
Tony sat on the plain grey couch in front of the TV as he usually did, but the seat was now stained red. Tony had taken off his shirt and wrapped it around the wound just below his heart. His eyes were closed tight against the pain, but his breathing was still steady.
"Tony, I'm back. Have you called an ambulance? You need to get to the hospital."
Tony opened his eyes with some effort. He looked exhausted. "No. I can't go to a hospital. The CCD will be sniffing around."
Michael closed his phone reluctantly, kneeling beside the golden haired man. "Damn it, Tony."
It felt like he was saying that a lot lately. "Why?"
His voice sounded hollow and distant, but he needed the trance-like calm the meditative state gave him.
Tony smiled, his mouth blessedly clear of blood. "Would you like to explain how that fellow's blood froze?" He nodded towards the basement.
"You - What? You froze his blood! How the hell did you do that!? That's crazy, even for you!"
It seemed his calm wasn't as perfect as he thought. But now was not the time, questions could come later.
Taking a deep breath, Michael went on. "Forget that. Tell me how you expect to survive with a hole in your chest. I assume you want me to do something?"
"Yes, I thought it would be good for your training." Tony tried to laugh, but the pain stopped him.
Serves you right, you reckless bastard.
Michael didn't trust himself to speak. Whatever the man said, his eyes were deadly serious.
"I would ask you to heal me with the power - it didn't work when I tried it myself - but you are shit at that." A pause.
The bastard was fishing for a reaction!
Michael didn't oblige.
"There is something you can do though. The blade didn't hit any important parts, blood loss is what's killing me. I need you to cauterize the wound."
Michael wasn't amused. "Are you mad? I'm not going to set you on fire."
Tony's face turned sober. "I am many things; mad is not one of them. If you do not learn, you will die - I will die. I will not leave you as helpless as I have been!"
Michael was taken aback. He had never seen the man so passionate. He let none of it show on his face. He needed control, now more than ever.
Ready, he unwound the makeshift bandage and glanced up at Tony's face. "This will likely hurt."
The man nodded, and Michael bound the man with Air, careful not to smother him.
Gritting his teeth, Michael wove a thread of Fire, delicate, balanced. With infinite care, he inched it towards the wound. He strained to keep the thread razor thin. It flared and dimmed, but it grew tighter each time he forced it back into line.
As he touched the thread to flesh, it sizzled, disturbingly similar to meat on a barbecue. Michael had no time for more than a fragment of a thought, intent on his goal. He could feel Tony straining against his bonds, but resisted the urge to work faster.
With agonizing precision, he cauterized the wound, leaving no room for infection to grow. When he finished, he released the bonds and Tony sagged against the couch in exhausted sleep.
Michael tried to rise and found himself off balance, swaying on his feet. He did not know exactly how much time had passed, but it must have been hours, the sun dimming outside the window.
Michael's muscles ached, and the chill bore into his skin and bones.
He knew it was a stupid idea, but he was too tired to care. He wove wavering threads of Air and Fire with extra care.
The room was suddenly hit with a wave of warmth, and Michael felt a surge of pleasure.
No fires. Not even a small one.
It was not enough to cheer his troubled thoughts. He still had the dead assassin to deal with and he had not forgotten the price of his victory. He knew he had learned the hard way.
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."