No Way Out// Tommy, Jay
Dec. 2nd, 2005 10:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsTommy finally comes out of his room for food, at the same moment Jay decides it's mid day snack time. It's amazing what can be expressed without words
It was hunger that finally brought Tommy out of his room the next day around lunch time, having barricaded himself in there after his encounter with the mutant who called himself Empath. His tears had long dried up but he was still in a mental shock that he couldn't quite get himself out of.
Thanking god no one was in the kitchen at the moment, he slipped in and began looking through the cabinets and fridge to find the ingredients for his comfort meal, peanut butter and jelly, with milk of course.
Jay muttered to himself as he stalked down to the kitchen. Having a wolf and a feral for roommates had pretty much depleted the food resources in their suite, and it was well past time for Jay's post-brunch pre-lunch meal. He didn't really pay attention to the blond guy he found making a sandwich, and just went straight to the fridge. His muttering was eventually replaced by the sounds of three people humming.
Tommy was too busy spreading peanut butter on the bread to notice he wasn't alone anymore. He tried to remember exactly how his mother made it, but the memory made him pause in his thinking, squeezing his eyes tight at the pain that went with it. Finally with a sigh, he tired to think of nothing as he finished the sandwich as quickly as he could.
It was when he turned to replace the jelly in the fridge and get out the milk when he started at the sight that had plagued his nightmares. Red wings.
The jelly jar mashed into a few dozens pieces on the tile floor.
Jay was pretty much inside the refrigerator, and the sound of the smashing glass made him jump and bump his head on the rack above him. Rubbing his head and biting down a string of swearing, he withdrew from the fridge to see who'd caused the racket.
The jelly was promptly joined by mayonnaise.
Backing away with wide eyes, Tommy actually managed to grab his sandwich before darting out of the kitchen, not caring who saw him practically running back to his empty suite and lock the door behind him. Once safely inside, he leaned his back against the locked door and slid down it, burying his face in his knees which he brought up to chest, his PB&J laying on the floor next to him, forgotten as he struggled to take a decent breath.
Jay would write an apology note to the Masters of the Kitchen later, after he cleaned up the vile combination of jelly, mayo, and vomit from the floor. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands in the sink and then wobbled to the nearest broom closet for a mop and bucket.
He nearly collapsed against the door as images of that night in April bombarded his mind. Jay could feel his bones ache, the sharp pain in his chest when he tried to inhale, the constant burning feeling in his back and wings. He reached into his pocket and sent a short text message: FORGE. HELP ME.
It was hunger that finally brought Tommy out of his room the next day around lunch time, having barricaded himself in there after his encounter with the mutant who called himself Empath. His tears had long dried up but he was still in a mental shock that he couldn't quite get himself out of.
Thanking god no one was in the kitchen at the moment, he slipped in and began looking through the cabinets and fridge to find the ingredients for his comfort meal, peanut butter and jelly, with milk of course.
Jay muttered to himself as he stalked down to the kitchen. Having a wolf and a feral for roommates had pretty much depleted the food resources in their suite, and it was well past time for Jay's post-brunch pre-lunch meal. He didn't really pay attention to the blond guy he found making a sandwich, and just went straight to the fridge. His muttering was eventually replaced by the sounds of three people humming.
Tommy was too busy spreading peanut butter on the bread to notice he wasn't alone anymore. He tried to remember exactly how his mother made it, but the memory made him pause in his thinking, squeezing his eyes tight at the pain that went with it. Finally with a sigh, he tired to think of nothing as he finished the sandwich as quickly as he could.
It was when he turned to replace the jelly in the fridge and get out the milk when he started at the sight that had plagued his nightmares. Red wings.
The jelly jar mashed into a few dozens pieces on the tile floor.
Jay was pretty much inside the refrigerator, and the sound of the smashing glass made him jump and bump his head on the rack above him. Rubbing his head and biting down a string of swearing, he withdrew from the fridge to see who'd caused the racket.
The jelly was promptly joined by mayonnaise.
Backing away with wide eyes, Tommy actually managed to grab his sandwich before darting out of the kitchen, not caring who saw him practically running back to his empty suite and lock the door behind him. Once safely inside, he leaned his back against the locked door and slid down it, burying his face in his knees which he brought up to chest, his PB&J laying on the floor next to him, forgotten as he struggled to take a decent breath.
Jay would write an apology note to the Masters of the Kitchen later, after he cleaned up the vile combination of jelly, mayo, and vomit from the floor. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands in the sink and then wobbled to the nearest broom closet for a mop and bucket.
He nearly collapsed against the door as images of that night in April bombarded his mind. Jay could feel his bones ache, the sharp pain in his chest when he tried to inhale, the constant burning feeling in his back and wings. He reached into his pocket and sent a short text message: FORGE. HELP ME.
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