Oneshots and Other Things

Fire ~ Part 5

This is the final part of this mini... Thing? Not sure I like it but I'll just blame a very confused Dec for being the narrator of this part :p

Not sure what to publish here next so very happy to take any requests :)

(*~*)

"...lucky to be alive..."

The rustling of paper, a faint huff of breath.

"You can say that again."

"At least they didn't print any pictures of your pretty face."

Another huff of breath, more annoyed than amused this time. "Oi! It's a shame it was only us three in there so now it's my word against yours that I saved your life."

"Never going to admit that one, nonsense."

"Why am I not surprised?"

(*~*)

The air is static, so perfectly still that it seems impossible for everything to be on fire around them. Not that Dec can figure out if that's still the case. It's definitely hot but he's forced down on the floor, something resting more than painfully on his leg, the weight spread out over his back as he tries to keep his face turned away from the ground.

Out of the silence, he can hear ringing in the distance. Then, other things start to filter through and it seems as if the rest of the world isn't on mute; it's just his hearing. There is a rough, scratchy sound that cuts in and out through the wavering high-pitched whine in his head. He blinks his eyes open and closed, hard, trying not to give into the dizziness that makes his vision waver whenever he focuses on anything.

And his leg really hurts.

"Stephen!" Ant's voice undulates over each syllable, loud and then quiet. Dec's leg is jostled by something and he feels his chest rattle in protest. "Dec!"

He tries to mumble something, not sure how loud it is in the end although it seems to get Ant's attention. The weight lifts from him gradually, that same scratchy sound repeating in a slightly different timbre. It's longer as well – closer.

"Cover your mouth," Ant instructs firmly. Dec lifts his head slightly, moving his arm half-heartedly and then realising he's not the one being talked to. "Keep breathing... Terrible advice, I know."

Dec's shoulder is shaken before he realises his eyes have slipped closed again and he returns to his previous attempts to lift his head, blinking hazily at Ant when he manages to crane his neck far enough to see the other man. A cough forces its way out of his chest suddenly and he hears that same scratching in his own throat. When he stops, Ant is looking over his shoulder with a grimace on his face. Dec forces himself to concentrate on the scene behind him, not so disoriented that he can't appreciate the position they are in.

The set is far less recognisable than it was. Pockets of fire are still blazing, many too close to comfort. They were pushed back towards the seating by the blast, surrounded by scattered rubble. When Dec looks back at Ant, he can see the dust and soot matted in his hair, clinging to his clothes.

"...sit you up?"

His hearing cuts back in at the end of Ant's question, nodding mostly to appease the worry on his face. Dec isn't sure why he's worried (beyond the fire and general danger they seem to be in). He feels lightheaded, sure, but it doesn't feel like anything serious. Ant's attention is decidedly on him though.

He shuffles half-heartedly, letting Ant do most of the work and then resting back against the front row of seating, his legs splayed out in front of him. His vision goes grey out of nowhere, cutting back in when his chin rocks forwards. He tries to focus on his feet in front of him, feeling the air run in and out of his nose with a control he didn't realise he was having to muster.