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Sometimes staying dead is better--Uncharted AU |
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Waking up cold, wet, on a hard floor is never a good feeling. He groans and tries to sit up wincing in pain touching his stomach nearing his ribs and feels he is wet with his own blood. He stares at his hand straining to see his vision is blurred. "Sh-s**t..." Jeff swallows and speaks shakily, he looks at himself and blood has seeped through bandages. His first thought is 'Where is my camera?' and he frowns mentally correcting himself, 'No, where am /I/?'
He was dying. He knew he had been dying. So very, very, close to death. Jeffery had /felt/ his lips chill, his body desperately trying to function as normal. He had barely remembered the whizzing of bullets, the hail of gunfire the thundering of it all so close. He nearly forgot until now when he looked at his red hand.
"Lovely man, ain't he?" Jeff doesn't glance up at the voice but shakes some, he isn't with the group anymore he's sure. "Lazarevic." The accented voice is dripping with a different sort of venom Jeff isn't sure he's used to hearing. Even in all his work as a cameraman, everything from interview footage and behind-the-scenes gossip pieces. Jeff glances up and pushes firmer on his bandages. "Wh-where...?"
Harry pushes off the wall he had been leaning on, his cheek is a bit swollen and bruised. "See, now, I'd think Zoran would want the little blond instead but she ran off." The Brit rubs his face, that girl does pack a good wallop. "When Drake's involved though, anyone is leverage." There was a bitterness to his tone that made Jeff glance downward, not wanting to look into those jaded hazel eyes.
"S-so...." Jeff's mind races. So he's not dead. That's good? So he's with Lazarevic. That's very bad. "Is...is...Elena okay?" There is a beat and finally Jeff manages to look up.
"/Her/?"
Jeff wonders if he's offended Harry somehow by how he seems to scoff.
"What about uh...what's his name..." Jeff shakes pushing his wound "N-Nate. He saved--" Jeff's voice runs small, watching Harry watch him.
"Come off it. He's no hero." Harry says, and leaves.
Jeff sits up and leans against the stone wall and lets out a shaky exhale. He hears a click and wonders, know tries to deny, if he's a prisoner or not now. If so why was he being visited by the enemies henchmen or whatever. He applies more pressure to his still tender wound and leans his head back taking off his hat and falls asleep.
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There is a slam. Not a slam as much as a slam, bang. Jeff jumps so much he feels like he tore his stomach wound open or something. He pushes against the wall, feet kicking at the floor to get even closer to the wall.
"I didn't catch your name." It's Lazarevic.
Jeff can't speak, he gulps for air opening his mouth to form words. Jeffery. That's my name. Nothing comes out. Jeff sees Harry who looks at him expectantly, he moves a hand gesturing for Jeff to hurry up. Harry knows. Harry knows what happens when you don't properly answer Zoran.
A few moments pass, patience is wearing thin for Lazarevis. Harry shifts on his feet and looks away.
Jeff gasps when there is a bang, this time not of a door being kicked open. In fact, now that Jeff thinks about it how could someone kick in a door like /that/. It was big and metallic and Lazarevic kicked it in like plywood.
Jeff's thoughts spiral back to this bang though. A gun. He trembles and dares to look to his left, near his head is a bullet hole on the wall. "J-Jesus!" he cries out.
"Your name is Jesus?" Zoran asked tilting his head up and, he seemed almost darkly amused.
Jeff would have laughed. Had he not pissed himself.
"J-Jeff...Jeffery. " Jeff said hugging himself tight and pulling his knees up, rocking forward and back.
"J-Jeff, Jeffery." Lazarevic repeated and gave a cold stare. "Get up."
The camera man looked to Harry, who was still not looking at him.
"/Up/."
I can't.
No words come out, no legs support him. Instead there is a tight grip on his the collar of his shirt. He's hoisted up roughly, he gasps and glances down.
"Look at me." Jeff can feel Lazarevic's hot breath against his face. Jeff looks up and swallows, and suddenly feels his legs give out.
He's shoved hard onto the wall pinned on either shoulder, so much so his numb legs don't matter. Lazarevic's grip on his shoulders is enough to tack him to the wall.
"Get out." Zoran says and he grits his teeth, and Jeff is hesitant to say what he sees on the other man is a smirk.
Jeff tries to look over Lazarevic's big, and padded, shoulder at Harry.
Nothing. He doesn't get eye contact. Harry leaves.
Jeff's stomach drops.
"Please, oh god--! Don't kill me, I..." he begs. He /begs/, begs for his life, to just live. He's sorry, he says. He /begs/ to go.
 Zi Kimizuru · Sun Feb 14, 2010 @ 07:01am · 0 Comments |
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