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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[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.]