babyviper | (no subject)

Entry tags:

homeplot,
roger

(no subject)

She must have been getting soft.

O-Ren didn't know, instinctively, that anything was off when she woke up. She went through her morning routine, stretching, cleaning her sword, getting dressed. It wasn't until she went to find Angua and Dean that the silence in the hut said something to her.

Like always, her breathing picked up first, then her pulse.

Stupidly, she'd left her sword on her bed.

O-Ren checked the bedroom, with a healthy amount of trepidation that came not only from the possibility of seeing more than she should, but the possibility of worse things than something that was almost parental sex. So fucking quiet--

--because they were asleep. Fine, except they wouldn't wake up.

She tried. Over, and over, until she was sitting helpless on the floor by their bed, hands clamped over her mouth to keep from screaming that something was wrong.

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Roger's morning routine was infinitely shorter. After a quick bladder-relieving, he tugged a shirt over his head to keep from scaring the little one, followed by some pants, and then went over to the table of the hut to throw some loving insults at Dean and duck Angua's swatting hand before he started his day. He'd gotten a late start that day - the sun was already past shining directly through his window, like he was used to - and when he stepped over the threshold to get to the table, he thought maybe he'd missed them, but O-Ren wasn't around either.

"Dean? Angua?" He called out, soft enough that if they were in bed, he wouldn't wake them. He tried to toe their door open, but it was ajar. Senses on alert, he padded cautiously into the room, ready to fight off any intruder to the best of his ability... or scream for Dean to do it.

His eyes went to the rigid form on the floor, O-Ren with her hands clasped over her mouth, eyes fucking huge and she was staring at the bed. He dropped to his knees.

"O-Ren, what is it?" He knelt near her, eyes up on Dean and Angua's motionless bodies. Why the fuck hadn't any of this roused them? "Dean! Angua! Get up!" A frustrated noise that was Roger's cursing Dean's deep sleep and he scooted himself closer to the young girl. "What happened?"

She spilled out about half her response in Japanese before she could make her mouth form the right words instead.

"They won't wake up," O-Ren said, relieved to hear her voice come out in a hush. She thought she might be screaming. "I tried, and they won't wake up. Something's wrong. We'll need a doctor." Short, easy sentences, especially since her first reaction was to stay quiet quiet quiet. "I'm faster. Who do I get?"

The panic in Roger rose when he couldn't understand her, and he wondered if she was speaking quickly or not speaking English. When the words began to form something Roger's brain recognized, the line of his jaw unwound and then rewound. He looked up at Dean and Angua again, motionless and soundless, save for the rise and fall of slow, even breaths.

"Wait," Roger said, holding a hand out. He got up, took cautious steps forward, watched how they breathed, how their eyes darted back and forth as if dreaming.

"Dean," He tried once more and when nothing happened, he froze, trying to align some kind of reason in his head. What had the island done? What could this be?

"And I'm not even armed," O-Ren keened, suddenly caught up in what was a cross between the humiliation of a teenage girl and a hired killer. "Has... has this ever happened before? Is this one of this place's fucking tricks?"

In which case, fuck this fucking place.

"Yeah," Roger said softly, unable to completely tear his eyes from the horrifying sight of Dean and Angua motionless. Each of them had an energy that was unrivaled, constantly moving, hunting, emoting, and laying there like that... It wasn't something Roger ever wanted to see.

He forced his eyes away by turning full away to face the young O-Ren. "I've never been on this side of it, though. It's... I dunno. Some... happy-place coma or something." He tried to remember what Mark had done for him the last time. And he tried to stop wondering why he got passed up this time. Why did O-Ren?

"They'll wake up again?" The feelings kept slamming into her, hard and furious and scared. Relief felt like a ton of bricks. "And they're okay?" She scrubbed her hands over her face. "What do you mean, happy-place?"

"Yes!" Roger said quickly, making sure to put a fine point on it in an effort to quell O-Ren's panic. "I..." He sat down in the chair next to the bed facing O-Ren. "For the past few years when this happened, I was asleep like them. And I... went home. Or dreamed about home or something. Only it wasn't just me. I saw people I cared about, too. Some people from the island." He had no idea if that made any sense, but it was the best and simplest he could do.

There was no way she could have hidden the crushed expression. But they left me here. "Oh," she said, ducking her head down. "And then they'll wake up?"

She tried desperately to make herself numb again.

It wasn't working.

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