Holy carp! It's fic!
Oct. 24th, 2008 07:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
norcumiIt's Friday in my time zone, I've several hours of such left, and an actually sizable chunk of fic!
Wow. I need to make myself a shadowrun icon or something. This one takes place between the last two cuts on this fic topic.
Friends don't let friends... something
All the machinery was meeping quietly, indicating that Toby was hovering near the edge of consciousness. It was from both the trid and hard-earned personal experience that Brian knew hospital personnel wanted patients to make that last little step themselves, claiming that it helped the patient progress smoother, easier, from whatever trauma had knocked them out.
It wasn't exactly crap, but Brian was still hurt. He could spare a little to be angry.
“Toby. Hoi.” He poked the troll in the leg, almost hoping he found a bruise. “Tobe? Kinda need you here, chummer. Toooo-beeee.”
The meeping changed to an indignant squawk as Toby's eyes flared open, inhaling sharply though his nose. He glared around the room, a slightly wild stutter from place to place to figure out the situation.
“You're safe,” Brian declared, relieved in spite of himself as Toby's eyes snapped back to him. “DocWagon's got you, and no Lone Star or lawsuits in sight.”
On the one hand, the fact that Toby relaxed a fraction on hearing about DocWagon pissed him off. Whatever the hell was going on, it came as no surprise to the troll. Fragger. On the other hand, it was intriguing that he didn't relax the entire way.
“Slitch?” Toby croaked out, staring intently at him.
It didn't matter how much he'd practiced, he still hesitated a fraction of a breath before answering. “Safe.” Dammit.
“Johnson?”
“Dead. Lenore and I took him out with some help she scrounged up.” And with that, Toby finally slumped back, all the air whooshing out in a sigh. His eyes closed for a moment as Brian leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. “Meantime, I've got some questions.”
Toby grunted and closed his eyes, but they popped open again a moment later as a frown scowled its way across his face. “Wait.” Drek, you have GOT to be kidding me. “You said safe, not secure. Bastard got away with her?!”
For a single moment, the ork kept his cool. Hombre was hurt, hellaciously hurt, and just come to and -
Without even a token sizzling sound Brian's temper shattered.
“Toby! You fraggin' moron! You were shot in the chest; shattered a chunk'a your spine and nicked the lung, so that was filling with blood, which is good 'cause that got DocWagon screaming to ya while some moron shot you in the head, which would leave you even less able to just sit and drool than you do now! They got there just in time to resuscitate you I dunno HOW many times on the way to the hospital enclave, where the slickest docs and THE meanest wizworm I have ever been unfortunate enough to meet has been draining his butt out to get you back in one piece! Even THAT is a friggin' miracle based on the bastard bein' in too much of a hurry to make sure you were really dead, not somehow put in a coma by your own damn cybershit! But hey, in the end even that's ok, 'cause you've got better medical coverage than GOD! And lemme tell you, chummer, how the HELL some kid from the scrub end of the slums ends up here is blowin' my mind!”
The near silence of Brian's panting snarls hung for a long moment as Toby just looked at him, eyes just slightly wide with God-knew-what-emotion – and then the fragger looked away.
“Dammit, Toby!” Brian growled and started to pace. “You don't even have the bracelet ID, and I know you ain't gotta SIN – but they told me you have some kinda chip implanted on you that monitors shit unless you turn it off - What the hell is going on?”
Still nothing.
The ork sighed. “You, chummer, are on my shit list, you know that, right?”
A knock on the door saved the fragger from answering, and a moment later a rather large ork orderly stepped in. “Sorry chummers,” he declared in that too friendly tone of peacekeepers everywhere, “but the docs want y'all to cool it a little. Not so hot for the patient, ya know?”
For a moment, Brian looked the guy over, taking in the muscles and discreet stun baton. Then he turned and glared at Toby. “What, God level insurance comes with disposable goons, too?”
Wow. I need to make myself a shadowrun icon or something. This one takes place between the last two cuts on this fic topic.
Friends don't let friends... something
All the machinery was meeping quietly, indicating that Toby was hovering near the edge of consciousness. It was from both the trid and hard-earned personal experience that Brian knew hospital personnel wanted patients to make that last little step themselves, claiming that it helped the patient progress smoother, easier, from whatever trauma had knocked them out.
It wasn't exactly crap, but Brian was still hurt. He could spare a little to be angry.
“Toby. Hoi.” He poked the troll in the leg, almost hoping he found a bruise. “Tobe? Kinda need you here, chummer. Toooo-beeee.”
The meeping changed to an indignant squawk as Toby's eyes flared open, inhaling sharply though his nose. He glared around the room, a slightly wild stutter from place to place to figure out the situation.
“You're safe,” Brian declared, relieved in spite of himself as Toby's eyes snapped back to him. “DocWagon's got you, and no Lone Star or lawsuits in sight.”
On the one hand, the fact that Toby relaxed a fraction on hearing about DocWagon pissed him off. Whatever the hell was going on, it came as no surprise to the troll. Fragger. On the other hand, it was intriguing that he didn't relax the entire way.
“Slitch?” Toby croaked out, staring intently at him.
It didn't matter how much he'd practiced, he still hesitated a fraction of a breath before answering. “Safe.” Dammit.
“Johnson?”
“Dead. Lenore and I took him out with some help she scrounged up.” And with that, Toby finally slumped back, all the air whooshing out in a sigh. His eyes closed for a moment as Brian leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. “Meantime, I've got some questions.”
Toby grunted and closed his eyes, but they popped open again a moment later as a frown scowled its way across his face. “Wait.” Drek, you have GOT to be kidding me. “You said safe, not secure. Bastard got away with her?!”
For a single moment, the ork kept his cool. Hombre was hurt, hellaciously hurt, and just come to and -
Without even a token sizzling sound Brian's temper shattered.
“Toby! You fraggin' moron! You were shot in the chest; shattered a chunk'a your spine and nicked the lung, so that was filling with blood, which is good 'cause that got DocWagon screaming to ya while some moron shot you in the head, which would leave you even less able to just sit and drool than you do now! They got there just in time to resuscitate you I dunno HOW many times on the way to the hospital enclave, where the slickest docs and THE meanest wizworm I have ever been unfortunate enough to meet has been draining his butt out to get you back in one piece! Even THAT is a friggin' miracle based on the bastard bein' in too much of a hurry to make sure you were really dead, not somehow put in a coma by your own damn cybershit! But hey, in the end even that's ok, 'cause you've got better medical coverage than GOD! And lemme tell you, chummer, how the HELL some kid from the scrub end of the slums ends up here is blowin' my mind!”
The near silence of Brian's panting snarls hung for a long moment as Toby just looked at him, eyes just slightly wide with God-knew-what-emotion – and then the fragger looked away.
“Dammit, Toby!” Brian growled and started to pace. “You don't even have the bracelet ID, and I know you ain't gotta SIN – but they told me you have some kinda chip implanted on you that monitors shit unless you turn it off - What the hell is going on?”
Still nothing.
The ork sighed. “You, chummer, are on my shit list, you know that, right?”
A knock on the door saved the fragger from answering, and a moment later a rather large ork orderly stepped in. “Sorry chummers,” he declared in that too friendly tone of peacekeepers everywhere, “but the docs want y'all to cool it a little. Not so hot for the patient, ya know?”
For a moment, Brian looked the guy over, taking in the muscles and discreet stun baton. Then he turned and glared at Toby. “What, God level insurance comes with disposable goons, too?”
