When his body collided with hers, for a second the world went mad as the air left her lungs. For a terrifying moment, she was the victim again and he was sweeping in, sweeping her away, and though she couldn't breathe she felt absolutely safe...
Then the explosion wiped out everything.
She didn't lose consciousness, but it felt like she had. It wasn't the heat, she'd felt pure fire that terrifying night at the Glen Capri, living flame with the single-minded purpose of not just destroying, but killing. It was more the sound, and the concussive outward pressure of the explosion that sent them both flying, overwhelming her senses and her self-awareness so completely she couldn't think, couldn't function. The sound was worse than a thousand howling werewolves calling to a thousand screaming banshees, and the force of the blast was harder than any superhuman blow she'd ever been dealt, even with the Red Hood's body to buffer her from the worst of it--
Red.
Panic crept into her chest at the moment they fell, even though she was physically stunned, still fighting for breath in the aftermath of that oxygen-stealing heat. It felt like years, but was more like a full minute before she could force her limbs to function enough that she could push herself off his body, now under her.
"Red?"
Her ears were ringing, loud enough that she had to check for blood. Finding none, she had to trust that the dull, muted sound of her own voice was loud enough to be heard, not realizing she was shouting just to do more than feel her own vocal chords vibrate.
"Red?!"
Her voice was still a high, shaky wheeze, nearly a shriek as her hands skimmed over his arms, shoulders, chest, searching for injuries and finding nothing visible. There's something more to his gear, beneath the yield of leather, over the warmth of skin...armor. Obviously.
Thread the needle. His life depends on it.
Pushing back her hood, her own domino was all that hid her as her hand sat in the middle of his chest. Face streaked with soot, eyes glistening with unshed tears of panic, she left it there, warring with herself for a long moment as she stared down into his masked face.
Maybe he was stunned. She didn't even know if he was conscious.
His life depends on it.
"Red, talk to me." she urged, voice still too loud as her hands finally went to his helmet, dimly recalling his warning that it was rigged with explosives as her fingers slid down to the base, searching for some kind of release mechanism.
If he spoke to her, she could stop. If he said something, she wouldn't have to do it.
If he could prove he was all right, she'd never have to know...but if he couldn't...
One way or another, she had to make sure the Red Hood was alive.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-09-17 09:00 pm (UTC)Then the explosion wiped out everything.
She didn't lose consciousness, but it felt like she had. It wasn't the heat, she'd felt pure fire that terrifying night at the Glen Capri, living flame with the single-minded purpose of not just destroying, but killing. It was more the sound, and the concussive outward pressure of the explosion that sent them both flying, overwhelming her senses and her self-awareness so completely she couldn't think, couldn't function. The sound was worse than a thousand howling werewolves calling to a thousand screaming banshees, and the force of the blast was harder than any superhuman blow she'd ever been dealt, even with the Red Hood's body to buffer her from the worst of it--
Red.
Panic crept into her chest at the moment they fell, even though she was physically stunned, still fighting for breath in the aftermath of that oxygen-stealing heat. It felt like years, but was more like a full minute before she could force her limbs to function enough that she could push herself off his body, now under her.
"Red?"
Her ears were ringing, loud enough that she had to check for blood. Finding none, she had to trust that the dull, muted sound of her own voice was loud enough to be heard, not realizing she was shouting just to do more than feel her own vocal chords vibrate.
"Red?!"
Her voice was still a high, shaky wheeze, nearly a shriek as her hands skimmed over his arms, shoulders, chest, searching for injuries and finding nothing visible. There's something more to his gear, beneath the yield of leather, over the warmth of skin...armor. Obviously.
Thread the needle. His life depends on it.
Pushing back her hood, her own domino was all that hid her as her hand sat in the middle of his chest. Face streaked with soot, eyes glistening with unshed tears of panic, she left it there, warring with herself for a long moment as she stared down into his masked face.
Maybe he was stunned. She didn't even know if he was conscious.
His life depends on it.
"Red, talk to me." she urged, voice still too loud as her hands finally went to his helmet, dimly recalling his warning that it was rigged with explosives as her fingers slid down to the base, searching for some kind of release mechanism.
If he spoke to her, she could stop. If he said something, she wouldn't have to do it.
If he could prove he was all right, she'd never have to know...but if he couldn't...
One way or another, she had to make sure the Red Hood was alive.