TW, FaaS snippet three
Nov. 28th, 2001 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveBecause, um...I had it written.
So where was back-up? Hadn't anyone looked up to see them hanging around? And where was the FD? Even with traffic, the fire department should be here by now. Right?
Were those sirens he was hearing?
Bosco could feel the dig of the concrete in his stomach, the corner of the wall digging in through the vest. There might be bruises, he'd slammed into the wall pretty hard. Couldn't feel anything; he'd have to check, later. Privacy of his own shower - wouldn't that be nice, right about now? Home, standing in his shower, Jimmy soaping him up-OK, let's change the topic, shall we? he told himself. Something more conducive to concentrating on the task at hand.
"You wanna tell me what's so funny?" Bobby demanded, still breathless, but with a hint of a bite that said he was doing a pretty good job focusing on Bosco, rather than the drop below him.
"I'd rather be home," Bosco started to explain.
Bobby grinned. "Really? Here I was thinking this is nice, 'cause we don't get much chance to talk."
"Next time, call me. We'll talk."
Bobby just grinned. Kept staring up at Bosco, like Bosco kept staring down at him because he didn't want to glance away and see what was below him. Even the tiniest bit to either side, and Bosco would be able to see the ground. He didn't want to see the ground. Didn't want Bobby to see him seeing the ground.
Where was Yokas?
Bosco wanted to shift his left foot, a little. Get a little better purchase - he started to scoot his foot, not picking it up at all, just scoot it along.
"What the fuck!" Bobby shouted.
"Relax!" Bosco froze. "Relax, it's all right. I'm not letting you fall. We're not going anywhere."
"We moved," Bobby accused him, voice shaking.
"Relax, it was just me moving my foot. I'm done, now. We're not going anywhere."
"Moving your foot? You-" He cut himself off, but Bosco could see the questions in his eyes. How good a grip do you have? How stable is this guy who's holding me up?
Are we both gonna be going over, any second now?
"Sorry, shoulda warned you. But I'm good, I'm fine. I've got you," Bosco continued, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as he could.
"You're not-"
"I'm fine. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere," he added. "Neither are you." Then he smiled, and Bobby reflected the still-scared relief. The sirens were below them, now. Backup was here.
All they had to do was wait til the guys could get up to the roof and everything would be fine. His shoulder hurt, and he could feel the strain in his back, on his legs. In his hands. But they were going nowhere, except downstairs the slow way.
"This is not the way I wanted to start my week," Bosco said easily.
Bobby gave a laugh. "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."
"Go figure." Bosco made the mistake of glancing over, to see if he could see the fire engine. He could, it was definitely there - but it was a hell of a long way down. He didn't change his expression, just looked back at Bobby's eyes and saw another question there. "Wondering if they'd stopped for a drink on the way," he offered as an explanation.
"As long as they brought us one." Bobby half-grinned. Bosco could feel Bobby's hands on his wrists - starting to slicken with sweat, but not slipping. His own hands were dry, his grip was hard. He'd apologise for any bruises, later. Much later. Maybe over a beer and they could pretend they hadn't been worried at all, by not talking about it.
It seemed absurd, suddenly, that they were still waiting. Relief at hearing backup arrive was warring with the need for adrenaline to keep pumping, keep holding on and not relaxing. There was a chance, Bosco realised, that the FD didn't know they were up here. That they'd stopped at the ambulance and talked to Faith and Kim, asking where the guys were and how were things going.
He heard it only seconds before he felt hands on his back, and arms on either side of him were reaching over the edge, to grab onto Bobby's hands.
There was a mass of turnout gear, men shouting and pulling and hands on Bosco's own arms, dragging him backwards. He could see by the look on Bobby's face that he'd been rescued, too difficult to tell by the feel of his grip on Bobby's wrists that the weight was gone and Bobby was being brought over the parapet onto the roof.
They eased Bobby down, sitting him against the wall, and Bosco finally got his hands to let go. They were gonna start cramping. There was a hand on his back, and voices were asking if he was OK, Kim was suddenly there, kneeling beside Bobby. Bosco looked around, and saw that everything was under control.
Finally. He let himself keel sideways - to the right, not the left, because he didn't want to fall on it and find out how much more it could hurt. He realised he'd heard Jimmy's voice somewhere in the confusion; then he was passed out and didn't hear anything at all.
So where was back-up? Hadn't anyone looked up to see them hanging around? And where was the FD? Even with traffic, the fire department should be here by now. Right?
Were those sirens he was hearing?
Bosco could feel the dig of the concrete in his stomach, the corner of the wall digging in through the vest. There might be bruises, he'd slammed into the wall pretty hard. Couldn't feel anything; he'd have to check, later. Privacy of his own shower - wouldn't that be nice, right about now? Home, standing in his shower, Jimmy soaping him up-OK, let's change the topic, shall we? he told himself. Something more conducive to concentrating on the task at hand.
"You wanna tell me what's so funny?" Bobby demanded, still breathless, but with a hint of a bite that said he was doing a pretty good job focusing on Bosco, rather than the drop below him.
"I'd rather be home," Bosco started to explain.
Bobby grinned. "Really? Here I was thinking this is nice, 'cause we don't get much chance to talk."
"Next time, call me. We'll talk."
Bobby just grinned. Kept staring up at Bosco, like Bosco kept staring down at him because he didn't want to glance away and see what was below him. Even the tiniest bit to either side, and Bosco would be able to see the ground. He didn't want to see the ground. Didn't want Bobby to see him seeing the ground.
Where was Yokas?
Bosco wanted to shift his left foot, a little. Get a little better purchase - he started to scoot his foot, not picking it up at all, just scoot it along.
"What the fuck!" Bobby shouted.
"Relax!" Bosco froze. "Relax, it's all right. I'm not letting you fall. We're not going anywhere."
"We moved," Bobby accused him, voice shaking.
"Relax, it was just me moving my foot. I'm done, now. We're not going anywhere."
"Moving your foot? You-" He cut himself off, but Bosco could see the questions in his eyes. How good a grip do you have? How stable is this guy who's holding me up?
Are we both gonna be going over, any second now?
"Sorry, shoulda warned you. But I'm good, I'm fine. I've got you," Bosco continued, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as he could.
"You're not-"
"I'm fine. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere," he added. "Neither are you." Then he smiled, and Bobby reflected the still-scared relief. The sirens were below them, now. Backup was here.
All they had to do was wait til the guys could get up to the roof and everything would be fine. His shoulder hurt, and he could feel the strain in his back, on his legs. In his hands. But they were going nowhere, except downstairs the slow way.
"This is not the way I wanted to start my week," Bosco said easily.
Bobby gave a laugh. "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."
"Go figure." Bosco made the mistake of glancing over, to see if he could see the fire engine. He could, it was definitely there - but it was a hell of a long way down. He didn't change his expression, just looked back at Bobby's eyes and saw another question there. "Wondering if they'd stopped for a drink on the way," he offered as an explanation.
"As long as they brought us one." Bobby half-grinned. Bosco could feel Bobby's hands on his wrists - starting to slicken with sweat, but not slipping. His own hands were dry, his grip was hard. He'd apologise for any bruises, later. Much later. Maybe over a beer and they could pretend they hadn't been worried at all, by not talking about it.
It seemed absurd, suddenly, that they were still waiting. Relief at hearing backup arrive was warring with the need for adrenaline to keep pumping, keep holding on and not relaxing. There was a chance, Bosco realised, that the FD didn't know they were up here. That they'd stopped at the ambulance and talked to Faith and Kim, asking where the guys were and how were things going.
He heard it only seconds before he felt hands on his back, and arms on either side of him were reaching over the edge, to grab onto Bobby's hands.
There was a mass of turnout gear, men shouting and pulling and hands on Bosco's own arms, dragging him backwards. He could see by the look on Bobby's face that he'd been rescued, too difficult to tell by the feel of his grip on Bobby's wrists that the weight was gone and Bobby was being brought over the parapet onto the roof.
They eased Bobby down, sitting him against the wall, and Bosco finally got his hands to let go. They were gonna start cramping. There was a hand on his back, and voices were asking if he was OK, Kim was suddenly there, kneeling beside Bobby. Bosco looked around, and saw that everything was under control.
Finally. He let himself keel sideways - to the right, not the left, because he didn't want to fall on it and find out how much more it could hurt. He realised he'd heard Jimmy's voice somewhere in the confusion; then he was passed out and didn't hear anything at all.