Fandom Fire Station, Friday

[designateddadfriend]

Travis was excited by the snow! Until, you know, he actually got out into it.

"This entire town's teeth are going to rot out," he grumbled. Maybe the sign today should be a reminder about dental hygiene.

He grabbed the letters and the ladder, and was just taking down the previous sign when he heard what sure as hell sounded like shots being fired. Or maybe fireworks?

"How much do I want to bet that either way, someone's getting themselves killed?" he grumbled, and started climbing down again.

It was, as far as he was concerned, a fairly typical Friday in Fandom.

[open! And expecting one -- like, eventually -- for a bit of plotty!]

Comments

[stykera]

Excuse you. Gunshots were not typical Fandom Friday fair, Travis!

Stark was heading back towards the town after class had finished, taking a scenic, if somewhat sticky (thanks, marshmallow snow), route that ended up going past the fire station. So he heard both what might have been gunshots (but why would it be gunshots?) and the grumbling.

"Why would anyone be getting themselves killed?"

[designateddadfriend]

"Fireworks," Travis said, nodding in the general direction of the bangs. "You know how easy it is to blow your fingers off with those things?"

Gunshots were much less typical around here, yes. So he was just going to work on the assumption that they were fireworks.

[stykera]

"No. I've never tried," Stark said. "Fireworks or blowing off any fingers."

And the guns he was used to were far more 'pew-pew' than 'bang!'

[designateddadfriend]

"See, that? Is because you are smart. And have survival instincts. There aren't enough smart people with survival instincts in this world."

Travis shook his head, glancing over his shoulder in time to see two strangers tumble out of a nearby alley, guns in hand.

"What the fuck?!"

Well. At least Fandom was proving his point?

[stykera]

"I like surviving," Stark started to say but his choice trailed off as he turned to see where Travis was looking.

"Oh. Frell."

People waving guns around was never a good thing. And he didn't have his with him because he never really felt the need to carry it unless he knew something was likely to happen.

[designateddadfriend]

“Get into the station,” Travis ordered, hurrying Stark ahead of him. “Go, get in there —“

He had to yell to be heard over the gunshots. The adrenaline hit him like a punch in the chest.

The adrenaline did. Yes.

[stykera]

Travis. Adrenaline didn't make noises like that.

"We should both go in," Stark protested, turning back.

Oh. Oh no.

[designateddadfriend]

Both of them going in had absolutely been the plan, yes. Which Travis would have told him if he could inhale.

As it was, his already dark blue uniform was getting even darker in a broad patch. Travis looked down at it, then back up at Stark.

And then crumpled.

[stykera]

"Oh no. Oh nononono."

Stark was kneeling down by Travis almost before he realized he was moving.

"We'll get you up. And inside. Or to the clinic." That was a long walk and that was a lot of blood. That wasn't happening.

[designateddadfriend]

Why was this weirdly familiar?

“Oh right,” Travis muttered, not realizing he was speaking aloud. “The — the glass. . . .”

He closed his eyes, convulsed — and dissolved into glittery sparkles.

[stykera]

Well, it wasn't weirdly familiar to Stark. It was normal familiar. Dealing with dying people was what he was for.

Those dying people usually crossed over and he did his best to make that peaceful. He would have done that now if he'd been able to but Travis had simply...disappeared into sparkles. Stark had barely loosened the buckle to his mask. He'd died. That was clear and Stark would know. But he was gone and none of this made sense.

"Travis? Travis! Where...how...what...no. Nononono."

It was a very distraught and very confused Stykera who found himself stumbling away from the fire station. He wasn't sure where he was going but he wasn't staying here.