[Closed] And I'll be your goal

[metalicarus]

Who | Jet and Albert
What | Talking. Fluff. The usual.
Where | D2
When | Backdated to before the crowning, after Jet wakes up in his room.
Warnings/Notes | Usual post-arena talk stuff. Now a warning for smut. Tread lightly.

He was slow to wake as his mind drifted through fuzzy nothingness, seeming to lose everything that should be in it even as he grasped for some train of thought. A moment went by, then another until something finally pierced his awareness and let in a trickle of emotion: Albert's scent. The blond was clearly in his room on the second floor, but his partner's scent lingered here and there, just enough to bring Jet a shell of comfort he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

He sat up slowly, eyes falling on the ring still on his finger before catching his head in his hands.

He'd been trying to protect Felicity even though he knew she was a goner, even though he knew he was a goner the minute his eyes landed on that monstrous thing. It had torn him apart and if he thought about it, he could still remember in stark detail what that had felt like. Even before all that, though, there'd been those men and that kid and Natalie and Hilda and that scream Natalie had made. And watching as Albert fell over that cliff and the feeling that had ripped out Jet's stomach when his engines only sparked and his fiance vanished out of sight without the American there to catch him.

That cold despondency that had threatened to eat him alive towards the end of the arena trickled into his chest as he thought over just how bad the whole thing had been. And that had only been their second arena. That thought alone was enough to choke him.

Eyes clenched shut, Jet fought to push it all away and rebuild those supports he needed in place to keep himself up, after all if he didn't keep himself up, who would be there to make sure Albert did too?

An eternity later, he stood and made for the door leading to the common room. Hopefully Albert wasn't too far, Jet needed to find him before he could think or do anything else and make sure that smell was from a recent presence and not a remnant from Jet's memories.

Comments

[silberfuchs]

Albert's much closer than Jet might think; even before Jet's return the German had been sleeping nights in the room in District 2 instead of in his own depressing suite, and ever since Jet's death aired - gruesome enough that he'd had to turn off the television and be ill - Albert had rarely left D2. The Avoxes had shooed him out of the bedroom that evening, presumably to bring Jet in, and he was warned away in gesture not to enter until Jet awoke himself. Without anything to occupy himself while waiting and fretting, Albert puttered around the kitchen and made his fiance a cup of hot cocoa. It may be a weak way of coping, but at least it's warm and calming and might help at least a little (or he's kidding himself and Jet may come back broken after what Kevin did. God, he'll never stop having nightmares about that...) It wouldn't hurt just to leave the hot chocolate by his bedside, would it? He can just tiptoe in and...

So lost in his worry over Jet's mental state when he awakes is Albert that he doesn't actually notice the door swinging open towards him until its too late and the cocoa's already soaking into his white t-shirt, the mug falling soundlessly to the carpet and Albert's hands flying to his nose, another poor casualty of the door.