Colonel Frank Archer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
determinator) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pokebox2012-01-18 01:45 pm
determinator) wrote in pokebox2012-01-18 01:45 pm
LAST WORDS - LOCKED TO alchemicals
[Kimbley had left his pocket watch. It wouldn't have been as bad if the watch hadn't been prepared with the Philosopher's Stones Tucker had been given. At least Kimbley took the chimeras with him - but they were created by Tucker...]
[He's been worrying all night. "I'll return by morning." The sun's nearly up. It's far too early for them to invade, Archer knows that. There's no reason for him to prepare the troops this early. That hasn't stopped him. The first rays of light are beginning to show when he enters the city, gun drawn.]
[It's possible that Kimbley is just having fun, that he's genuinely not in any danger. It's possible, but not likely. He was sent in here on the Furher's direct orders; that alone is enough to warrant worry. Why would the Fuhrer select Kimbley for a job like this? He's been in prison for ten years; he's not exactly the best alchemist they have here. Mustang would have been better suited, right?]
[There's no point worrying about it now. He's here; he can provide backup and support for Kimbley now.]
Kimbley! ...Where the fuck is he?
[Archer has left the majority of the troops behind; the few soldiers who are tailing him have been left behind in the city already. He's focused solely on that damn alchemist now. He had better be fine.]
[He's been worrying all night. "I'll return by morning." The sun's nearly up. It's far too early for them to invade, Archer knows that. There's no reason for him to prepare the troops this early. That hasn't stopped him. The first rays of light are beginning to show when he enters the city, gun drawn.]
[It's possible that Kimbley is just having fun, that he's genuinely not in any danger. It's possible, but not likely. He was sent in here on the Furher's direct orders; that alone is enough to warrant worry. Why would the Fuhrer select Kimbley for a job like this? He's been in prison for ten years; he's not exactly the best alchemist they have here. Mustang would have been better suited, right?]
[There's no point worrying about it now. He's here; he can provide backup and support for Kimbley now.]
Kimbley! ...Where the fuck is he?
[Archer has left the majority of the troops behind; the few soldiers who are tailing him have been left behind in the city already. He's focused solely on that damn alchemist now. He had better be fine.]
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The only real exception to this has been with Archer.
He allows himself to be pulled forward, though he does move a bit once Archer's holding him, adjusting so that he can lean a bit more fully against Archer's body; he returns the embrace after a moment, though he kind of hates how doing that really just makes him all the more aware of the fact that he's shaking.]
...hey, come on...you...always keep your promises, Archer.
[And even though his words are back to that darkly amused tone, his voice is shaking badly as well.]
Don't start...making ones you're going to have to break.
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[Kimbley's just as afraid as he is. Maybe he's not afraid of death (he's certainly said as much before), but something about this isn't sitting right with him either. Archer's grip tightens once Kimbley gets comfortable. He's fully aware that Kimbley's bleeding on him. He doesn't care at this point.]
Don't... Don't say that. You will be fine.
[Archer's trying to control his voice. He's failing miserably. He can't lose Kimbley. What... What the fuck will he do without him?]
You know I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. You still trust me, right? You'll be fine.
[Maybe one of them will actually believe it if he keeps repeating it.]
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[Kimbley laughs a bit at that, though the sound is far from cruel; if anything, it's weirdly affectionate, almost as though wondering why Archer would even ask that in the first place, the answer is so obvious.]
Yeah...yeah, I trust you...always have.
[Kimbley's never been one to completely disregard reality, though; his urge is to argue against what Archer is saying again, despite the fact that he trusts him. But as he leans forward into that tightening grip Archer has against him and rests his head against the other man's shoulder, he knows that he won't; Kimbley has always had a bit of a talent for knowing what others like to hear, even if he chooses to ignore it in favor of doing whatever the hell he wants most of the time. He's been around Archer for almost a year now; he's almost always aware of what Archer is thinking and feeling, and what sort of things he needs to hear.
As little as Kimbley really wants Archer to keep insisting that he'll be fine when they both know that he won't, he knows that Archer needs the lie.
His grip tightens suddenly against Archer's clothes; another spike of pain courses through his system, drawing another of those sharp breaths, and it takes him a while to relax again. Longer than it should.]
...Bradley...owes me such a fucking promotion after this...
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[He's perfectly content to hug Kimbley for the time being, reaching one hand up to play with Kimbley's hair. The gesture is familiar and comforting despite how strange their situation now is. ]
[But then Kimbley's in pain and the illusion is broken. It hurts more than it has any right to; Kimbley is the one bleeding to death, not Archer. Still, he can't hide just how relieved he is when Kimbley finally relaxes again.]
...I know. I'll make sure you receive one.
[He returns to playing with Kimbley's hair; hopefully it will serve as a distraction from the pain for the both of them.]
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[The gesture really is a nice one; Kimbley has always enjoyed having his hair played with, and even though the pain isn't subsiding any, there's something calming about how familiar and normal that action is. He nuzzles into Archer's shoulder a bit without really deciding to do so; the response comes easily, instinctive, but it's weak just the same.
He's going to die.
The idea presents itself fully now, as a cold, rational fact as opposed to a possibility to be averted; there's no way around it. Never has been. Even if Archer were to find those soldiers he had come into Liore with, from the sound of it they didn't have medical support in the city itself; the base was a good distance away from here, there wouldn't be enough time.
Kimbley has never seen death as something to be feared, and he still doesn't; in some ways, the knowledge that his death is a certainty is a good thing. There's no wondering anymore, no questioning whether they'll be found before it's too late, whether they'll even be able to save him or whether they might as well shoot him and get it over with. He's going to die, and it's going to be in the presence of someone who actually gave enough of a damn to try to comfort him before he goes. Someone he considers his best friend.
It's not ideal - ideal would be not dying, period, after all - but all things considered, it's pretty damn close.]
Archer...
[He doesn't finish, his grip tightening involuntarily through pain; though he manages to stifle back the urge to start with any sort of coughing fit, his body shudders deeply with the effort, and he's suddenly very aware of the taste of blood in his mouth. His breathing is shallow, and he doesn't seem able to relax any; he's vaguely aware of the thought It's almost over before he dismisses it abruptly.
As much as it's a certainty, that doesn't mean he has to like it.]
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[Suddenly Kimbley's clinging to him and Archer doesn't know what to do. He has to pause for a moment to make sure he's not crushing Kimbley; the urge to latch on and never let go has never been stronger. He's not sure what to do outside attempt to reassure Kimbley that everything will be fine.]
...I know it must hurt. Is there... anything I can do for you, Kimbley?
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...thanks.
[The word is quiet, but it's clear that he's trying not to sound too weak in front of Archer; there are still definite traces of his usual light tone in his voice, even though he sounds tired as hell.]
For...not leaving earlier.
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[It isn't very often that Archer actually blames himself. There really is no denying that he's at least partially at fault for this. No, there was no way for him to stop Kimbley from entering the city at all - Kimbley couldn't disobey a direct order from the Fuhrer regardless of what Archer said. It's only now that he's realizing just how useless he really is here.]
...Okay. Let me know if you need anything.
[Kimbley's words earn a blank stare for a moment. Leaving? Why the hell would he leave? To get medical attention for Kimbley, obviously, but even that wouldn't be for long. Archer returns to playing with Kimbley's hair while he thinks.]
I won't leave you. You don't need to worry about that.
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[It's all he can really think to say; words aren't coming very easily anymore. The realization hits him that he's exhausted, that he can't...do this for much longer; it would be remarkably easy to close his eyes and let himself rest - at the same time, he knows that if he does that, he won't wake up from it.
His grip loosens a bit from the tight hold he'd been keeping against Archer's clothes; he can feel himself leaning a bit more heavily against Archer's body, though he shifts a bit before becoming still again. He's still breathing, but even that seems to be slowing down a bit, the time between breaths drawn growing longer before suddenly picking up again, rapid and shallow.
He doesn't have long.]
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[His response is immediate. He starts shrieking.]
Don't you fucking dare die on me, Kimbley! I went through all this trouble to get you reinstated, promoted, and cleared of your criminal record and this is how you repay me!? Don't die on me!
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He's never been one to offer comfort to others; both of them are fully aware of that. At the same time, this has been one of the things that confuses him most about his relationship with Archer - as much as he considers everyone to be bomb materials and nothing more, he's never liked seeing Archer hurt or upset. He can't remove the source of the issue here; there's nothing to be done about that, especially not now. But he'll do what he can - right now, that's pretty much limited to shifting position a little and nuzzling into Archer's shoulder again, but he imagines it's better than nothing...]
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What the fuck am I supposed to do without you, Kimbley? Answer me! I can't accomplish anything without your help and you fucking know it! You can't die on me now...!
[Archer's grip tightens and suddenly he's very glad Kimbley can't get a good look at him right now. He's shaking badly enough as it is, but this would be even worse if Kimbley could see him.]
[He's crying.]
[Archer can't even remember the last time he cried. He stops screaming; the abrupt jagged breathing is indication enough that something is off, but he's trying to control that too. He doesn't need Kimbley to know just how badly this is hurting him. He shouldn't be this bothered.]
[...But of course he is. He's always had a soft spot for Kimbley. He's never understood why or how it developed, but Kimbley has always been different. Archer couldn't care less about anyone else. If this were anyone else, he wouldn't care. But it's Kimbley. What the hell is he supposed to do after Kimbley...?]
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Kimbley can feel Archer shaking, as well as the strange, shuddering breaths coming from him; while he doesn't exactly realize that Archer is crying, he knows that there are a lot of things that he probably should tell him. The two that come immediately to mind are lies - "it'll be okay" when it won't, and "I'm sorry" when he's not. The latter is a bit more true than the former; he's kind of sorry for all this shit happening, but he isn't sorry about anything that's led up to it. The time he's spent with Archer since getting out of prison isn't anything he's going to regret; regretting this is regretting everything that led up to it.
He's not sorry.
For a long moment he's almost entirely unresponsive, his breathing the only indication that his body hasn't completely given out; he isn't sure what makes him decide that what he does end up doing is a good idea. It's entirely possible that blood loss is rendering him completely delirious; either way, it just feels like something he...needs to do, so he does it.
He turns his head a bit from where he's been nuzzling into Archer's shoulder, and begins laying kisses against Archer's neck.
The motion is soft, weak; he knows it's entirely possible that Archer won't even realize what he's doing...but it doesn't really matter at this point, anyway, does it? The initial gesture is tentative, though he repeats it a couple of times before stopping, resting his head back against Archer's shoulder and closing his eyes.
Goddamn it...]
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[It's not something he's going to think much about now, at any rate.]
[This has brought something else entirely to his attention though. He's being selfish. That's not surprising at all - when isn't Archer selfish? - but now really isn't the time. He's not the one dying. He'll have plenty of time to worry about all of this later; Kimbley doesn't have long.]
...Sorry.
[He'll take a moment to swipe at his eyes as discretely as possible before returning to play with Kimbley's hair. It's the only thing he can think to do that will even marginally comfort the alchemist.]
I... Thanks. I'll be fine.
[That's a blatant lie. There's no sense in worrying Kimbley though; might as well try to make his passing as easy as possible, right?]
[...Dear god, everything really is different with Kimbley.]
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Kimbley knows that it's probably a lie - that Archer never switches gears that quickly, especially when emotions are running high, and the only reason Archer would have to do that now would be to try to comfort him; as much as he's never really liked the idea of that sort of thing, he's starting to understand the reasoning behind why Archer had needed the lie earlier.
Kimbley knows he's going to die; he doesn't understand why he can't do it without wanting to believe that that Archer is going to be all right.
The feeling of Archer's hand playing with his hair again is soothing, however, and that gesture in combination with the fact that Archer is trying to reassure him is enough to allow Kimbley to relax. He passes out, slipping into a deep unconsciousness that he isn't going to wake up from; it doesn't take long after that for the rest of his body to shut down.]