04-27-2014, 06:07 AM
Dr. Weston's words washed over him like oil over water. His head spun at an alarming rate, he doubted he could even walk unaided.
Twice now the monster had escaped him. Twice it had left him helpless. Even prepared, he did not have the power to destroy it. That hurt more than the ache in his head ever would.
Disturbed and irritated, he did not have the strength to summon any anger or desire for revenge. He had soldiers who were potentially dying this minute to care for, even if that constituted nothing more than making it through a turbulent crowd.
Time held no meaning for him as he swayed through the increasingly blurred throng. He was not sure if it was the jostling of bodies or his own disorientation that threatened to topple him.
For what had seemed an age, he was reduced and at the mercy of a guiding hand. One he had placed in danger, perhaps against their will. It was long since he truly trusted his life to another. Even Tony had been unreliable, drunk as he used to be. Trust now did not come easy, but eventually he relinquished his tension, his shoulders slumping to almost dead weight.
"I..."
he tried to say, but it came out in a jumbled mess. It took all of his strength just to stay congruent now. It seemed he was deteriorating fast. "This is strange...I should not be so..."
Weakness robbed him of the words and he fell to the ground, his chest heaving as he dry-wretched.
Through the gasps for breath and winces of pain he managed a semblance of his usual mettle and forced himself to his feet. "I don't care if I need rest, we must get back."
Twice now the monster had escaped him. Twice it had left him helpless. Even prepared, he did not have the power to destroy it. That hurt more than the ache in his head ever would.
Disturbed and irritated, he did not have the strength to summon any anger or desire for revenge. He had soldiers who were potentially dying this minute to care for, even if that constituted nothing more than making it through a turbulent crowd.
Time held no meaning for him as he swayed through the increasingly blurred throng. He was not sure if it was the jostling of bodies or his own disorientation that threatened to topple him.
For what had seemed an age, he was reduced and at the mercy of a guiding hand. One he had placed in danger, perhaps against their will. It was long since he truly trusted his life to another. Even Tony had been unreliable, drunk as he used to be. Trust now did not come easy, but eventually he relinquished his tension, his shoulders slumping to almost dead weight.
"I..."
he tried to say, but it came out in a jumbled mess. It took all of his strength just to stay congruent now. It seemed he was deteriorating fast. "This is strange...I should not be so..."
Weakness robbed him of the words and he fell to the ground, his chest heaving as he dry-wretched.
Through the gasps for breath and winces of pain he managed a semblance of his usual mettle and forced himself to his feet. "I don't care if I need rest, we must get back."
"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."