thearena | To be blind is not miserable; to not be able to bare blindness, that is miserable

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To be blind is not miserable; to not be able to bare blindness, that is miserable

Who| Jet, Nasir, Bucky (MCU), Alex Murphy and Albert
What| Jet and Nasir get into a fght resulting in hot oil to the eyes and blindness, Bucky and Alex help
Where| In the food court, eventually ending on the third floor
When| Late into the second week
Warnings/Notes| There will be eye-damage and burns in this log

For an arena, things had been going pretty smoothly, at least on their end. There's been a couple minor cuts and scrapes and bruises, but that was hardly concerning considering they were supposed to be fighting for their lives. They would have to eventually, he was sure of it, but if they could put it off as long as possible, that would be better.

This morning, however, they needed to restock their supplies, both food and other things. This time it was Jet to suggest they split up. Since it didn't seem like that big of a deal beyond that first night, he figured it was just smarter to get the errands done faster to keep them out of danger. Albert had been the one to get the food the last few times, so Jet offered to do it this time instead.

It was early enough, he doubted he'd run into very many people, especially any that wanted to cause trouble.

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He’d asked the others to leave him there while he waited for Albert to come back, but part of him now wished he hadn't. Every little sound made him jump and strain his ears to hear if it was someone coming to finish him off or not. Fear gripped him and kept him cold, making him wish he still had that jacket, although he doubted it would help. This wasn’t that kind of cold. It was the cold that churned his stomach and kept static the norm in his mind and made him shiver with pure terror at one simple fact: he couldn’t see.

He was blind.

Pilots couldn’t be blind, you couldn’t fly if you couldn’t see and if he couldn’t fly he wasn’t free. But it was more than that, he couldn’t see which meant he couldn’t defend himself, couldn’t fight, couldn’t protect Albert if he needed him. His brain went as a roller coaster down the path of everything that being blind meant and sent him spiraling into that static that kept him from thinking too deeply lest he lose his mind or panic or worse. He couldn’t, he couldn’t lose it now, he had to keep it together. He just had to. So he waited.

Edited 2014-08-30 04:19 (UTC)

It had been a busy day. Albert had gone on the usual aid round and even discovered the internet cafe, that had been closed thus far into the arena, was open. It was also crowded so he hadn't risked it, but it's definitely something to report.

Once he's in a position where he's not going to be overheard - the back corner of one of the theatres, defensible and empty thanks to the 'miracle of childbirth' video that's going on in the background - he sends a click to Jet's walkie talkie. Just a brief little noise, in case Jet's not somewhere he can talk right at the moment. He doesn't want to give his partner's location away by simply talking through the thing.

The little chirp that sounded from his backpack made Jet jump and his pulse quicken before he remembered what the sound was and felt a different emotion washing everything else away.

He reached for the backpack and pulled it towards him, carefully feeling for the zipper and then reaching in to find the walkie-talkie. All the while, his mind raced with what he should say. Albert was on the other line and while Jet longed to hear his voice, he found his mind blank on what to say. Did he tell him over the radio or wait for him to get there?

Wait was ultimately what he decided as he pressed the button to connect to the other device.

"I'm here." His voice was low and he took his finger off the button to take a deep breath or two, anything to get the shakiness out of his voice. The last thing he wanted was to make Albert panic.

That may be the last thing Jet wants to do, but the fact that he replies with such forced calm is already enough to key Albert into something not being right. Even so, if Jet's replying then it's not dire enough to panic. Maybe.

"What's wrong?" No use in beating around the bush about it, also it could be that any one of the terrible scenarios that Albert's mind provides could have happened and he's speaking to Jet as he's bleeding out somewhere...

Damnit, no, calm down. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

He's not doing the best impression of calm, though.

Dammit. He should have known, should have tried to sound more upbeat, he just didn't think he could. However, he knew Albert's mind had probably jumped right to Jet dying somewhere and he didn't want the German to go looking for him when he was right where he was supposed to be.

"I'm f--not dying. I'm safe. Back at base."

He couldn't say he was fine, that would be an outright lie. But he wasn't dying and he was safe, safe as he could be while relatively defenseless. But hearing Albert's voice even crackly and distorted as it is through the little radio, just sends a wave of something Jet identifies as weak through him. He tries to push it away, but it was like it latched onto that ever-present fear and wouldn't go.

"Just come back. If you're done, that is."

Edited 2014-08-31 17:33 (UTC)

"I'll be there in 5."

It's more like three considering he runs the whole way, arriving at their little stronghold short of breath and having tripped one of the alarm wires they'd rigged up out of fishing line and tin cups from the camping store. He doesn't worry much about it, it's more for when they're sleeping.

He takes the last few yards at a walk, as soon as he's in sight of Jet and can see he's not in immediate danger as far as he can tell.

A few feet more and he makes out the bandage across Jet's eyes, stained a vague red in spots where the cloth's absorbed blood from wounds that Albert can't see but make his stomach drop anyway.

"What happened?" He breathes the words softly, setting down his pack and kneeling in front of Jet to get a better look. Gingerly he brings one hand up under Jet's chin, turning his face a little to examine the damage. A little skin is peeling out from the edges of the bandage and his stomach flops again uncomfortably but this time in anger. Who had done this to his partner?

The cans rattling got his attention but the sound of that familiar gait made him calm down again. Albert's tone made his chest ache with a need to fix it even though he knew he couldn't. As soon as Albert's hand was under his chin, Jet's were hooked into the German's shirt, partly just to know he was actually there and partly to keep him from going far.

"Ran into Nasir in the food court, he attacked me. He splashed hot oil in my eyes...I should've fought harder." The urge to apologize was there, but instead of the words it was there in his voice.

"Lost two of my weapons too." And he couldn't see, but he couldn't say it.

"Nasir," Albert says the name with a grim finality; if he runs into the man at any point after this, the gladiator's life is forfeit.

As loathe as he is to do it, Albert moves away just for a moment to retrieve a water bottle and the first aid kit. The patch job on Jet's eyes is better than it could be, but the bandage is stained and needs changed.

"Sometimes it can't be helped. We've learned this by now." He pours some water on the cloth and moves back over to Jet. "We need to flush the wound."

He needs to see how bad it is. What he's dealing with.

Jet lets him go with grim acceptance, his hands reaching up to undo the fastenings Bucky had put in place. The bandage falls away, though the last layer he has to peel back, pulling a flinch from him along with it. The burn revealed isn't pretty.

His eyes are white and clouded, the skin right around them is bright red and bleeding at points, as is a patch on his cheek, the skin around those areas is bright pink and like massive scars and the skin around the edges is peeling.

The moment the bandage is off, Jet's stomach drops. Every time he opens his eyes, he hopes his sight will be back, even just a little bit, but every time there's only darkness waiting for him. His voice is quiet, fearful.

"Al...I can't see."

"I know." What else does he say? The moment he saw Jet with the bandage around his eyes he'd thought that was the case. To see it confirmed is no easier, Jets eyes as white as his own, but a milky white, unnatural, and the skin around them looks painful and raw, as if it will tear from his face.

"Lay down, on your side. I'm going to run water over your eyes to clean them." It's all he can do. By the look of Jet's eyes, it's not going to help very much other that alleviate some of the pain his partner must be feeling. The small tube of ointment in the first aid kit should help as well, but there's only a little and he can't put it directly on his eyes, just the damaged skin around them.

"I'll watch out for you. Just try to relax." He can tell Jet's starting to panic and so he keeps his voice calm and even, pulling the blond gently towards him and trying to coax him into laying down.

Jet did as his fiance directed, laying down on his side beside the other man. He felt weak and helpless, there was comfort in Albert's promise to watch out for him, but his mind kept supplying various things he couldn't do. He couldn't see if there was an enemy approaching which meant he couldn't keep look out, he couldn't even see to make sure he didn't run into anything walking from one place to another; he was useless. He couldn't even see his partner's face.

A tightness nestled in his throat as that feeling of wanting to cry crept up on him, only he couldn't do that either, the oil had seared his tear ducts. A small shudder ran through him as he pushed the urge back.

"Albert...promise you're not gonna leave to go look for him." Not that he feared for Albert when it came to Nasir, he knew his German was stronger than that and he wouldn't make the same mistake Jet had.

"I won't. I'm staying right here, Sparrow. Hold still, this is probably going to hurt." His voice is gentle but his hands are firm, holding Jet's face still as he carefully tips the water to run over those ruined eyes and blistered skin. If there are nerves left, it likely does sear, but the water is cool and takes the heat from his abused flesh with it.

"There. I'm going to put some of the ointment on next. Try not the flinch." He takes the small tube and rubs the gel inside around Jet's eyes in soothing light circles, trying to ignore how little flecks of skin peel around the edges and fall to the floor. It's the best he can do, under the circumstances, is try and help the mottled skin. There's nothing to be done for Jet's actual vision.

Salve applied, Albert puts everything he can reach away without moving from his spot at Jet's side. A moment later, he puts his hand on Jet's forehead, something he used to do when the flyer was injured or ill and would become overheated and Albert's hand - metal then - was cool and welcome against the fever. He'd never wished he had no body heat again, but right now it would be better.

Edited 2014-09-01 16:31 (UTC)

He tries not to flinch, but can't help it the first time the gel touches his face. He's still and silent until the German finally finishes applying the gel.

The hand on his forehead brings a different kind of comfort than temperature, it's familiar and soothing. He lays there, his hand covering Albert's for a few moments.

Slowly, Jet sat back up, his hands finding Albert's arms. Both hands carefully traced up arms to shoulders to cup his partner's neck where his movements went even slower. Long fingers trace features he knows by heart, piecing together his fiance's face in his mind as they move as a small wry smile touches his lips.

"It's only been a couple hours and I miss your dumb face."

For his part, Albert sits very still as Jet traces his hands over biceps and shoulders, swallowing and closing his eyes briefly as fingertips pass with a feather's touch over his face. His voice had been even and quiet as he could make it, but his expression he can't quite hide. The creases under his eyes, the tightness of his mouth, worry lines everywhere that even Jet's light touch can't quite smooth.

Even so, he smiles when Jet speaks. He knows the loss of his sight has Jet off kilter, panicked, and he's not sure what he'll do when his partner starts scratching at the walls in his inability to see, but for now he's making jokes and Albert will take that as a good sign. "I'm still as old and wrinkled as you remember, I'm sure."

Perhaps with a few more grey hairs thanks to Jet's exploits.

"Good...that's how I like my cranky Germans."

Jet can feel the worry and tension in his partner's face there under his fingertips, but as much as he'd like to wipe it away, he doesn't know how. He can't even wipe it away for himself beyond dumb jokes.

The blond groped for the kit, searching for the bandages so Albert could wrap Jet's eyes again. Even now, they were open out of habit and the fact he could feel them open and saw nothing made that anxious squirming in his chest intensify. His fingers brushed the roll and he offered it to Albert.

However, the question he posed had nothing to do with the medical supplies: "What do we do now? I have no hope of winning like this."

He hums more than chuckles, a light noise that shows amusement for Jet's words but is distracted by his action soon after. The bandage he takes but puts back in the kit. "The wound needs to be uncovered for awhile, until the heat's out of it."

As for what to do...

"We'll make do. I'll only leave to get us food. Hopefully if we can stay out of the way, we'll make it to the last few." And then what, he'll single-handedly kill every other tribute and then off himself to leave Jet the victor? Only he'd still be blind. The Capitol could grant him new eyes perhaps then- but what is he thinking? Leave Jet under the Capitol's knife? Better to die and awaken again safe back in the tower, whole and intact.

But in order to do that...

Albert's mouth again presses into a thin line, at an utter loss.

The fact about the bandage is disheartening, but he doesn't argue; his knowledge of burns was very rudimentary: flush with cold water, let someone else handle it.

Albert's lack of response to Jet's question did not go unnoticed. So Albert didn't know either, that was fair. Jet doubted he'd know if their positions were switched; true, he'd rant and fight the inevitable, but it would be inevitable. Still, for now, Albert wants to play hopeful and for all the lack of hope Jet feels, he's willing to cling to it himself.

"I scared him off with the paintball pistol, it might work on others the same way; you won't have to worry about me while you make runs." Because he wouldn't be able to go without being a burden, so he'd need to try and not be a burden even while he was just sitting there.

"Maybe I can make short runs or something, just somewhere nearby." He was reaching, it was very unlikely he'd be able to or even that Albert would give him the chance to, but the small thought that maybe he could made him have to suggest it. At least, then, he wouldn't be useless.

"No," he answers quickly to the second, squelching the thought before it's even fully out of Jet's mouth. He can't risk anyone getting their hands on Jet in this state. He would be an easy kill with his sight gone. Maybe not as easy as some, but simple enough if the attacker had any experience at all.

"I can make do. I won't need to get as much since it's just for us." He hates to sentence Jet to sitting here without anything to do, though. "I can get some books maybe, to read aloud, and I know where to find music if you want me to get some headphones."

Jet could listen while Albert is there to watch, though not while hes gone. He'd be afraid Jet wouldn't hear danger if it approached. Granted, he's not sure what Jet would do about the danger even if he did.

"And then what? While you're gone, I sit here like some worried and feeble wife while her damn hunter husband's out getting the food? What if something happens to you, then what? Am I supposed to just sit here wondering what happened?

I can't just sit here, blind and in silence, waiting!" It scared him, it scared him so damn much that everything was dark and sometimes things got too quiet and it was just him and his thoughts and his fears about his partner. He was so scared that Albert would need him and Jet wouldn't be there.

He was terrified that Albert would die and Jet wouldn't have a clue until hours had passed and then what was he supposed to do? He'd be alone.

"Do you have a better idea?" Albert's voice drops, the icy plunge in volume he uses when Jet's being unreasonable, meant to diffuse and make his partner rethink his position.

He hates using it now, with Jet helpless next to him. He knows the words only come from a place of anxious fear at the loss of his sense, the one Jet prizes most, but there's little they can do about it now. Going off to find Nasir would only satisfy his primal need for revenge, leaving Jet alone and exposed to other threats. Staying here and protecting him will only work for awhile. They'll run out of food eventually and he'll have to go get more, still leaving Jet unprotected. And bringing Jet with him is right out. To move silently you have to know your surroundings and while they've done plenty of reconnaissance, it's not home. They don't have it memorized, and things change at will in the arena. There is no fourth option as he can see.

So he waits for Jet to admit himself that there is no alternative, or maybe surprise him with something that's actually viable, all the while unable to offer that warmth he knows his partner needs, the sense that things will be alright.

How can they be?

The tone he recognized and it hurt to hear it now, like Jet was being so thoroughly unreasonable to want to be useful to his partner that Albert felt the need to chastise him. It hurt and it showed on his face.

The problem was that there was nothing to wait for, he already knew; there was nothing to admit if he'd already thought of it. He knew there was nothing else they could do and that was part of why he was so frustrated. It was one thing to be blind, it was another thing to become a burden because of it.

A small smile clawed its way onto his face and he turned his face down. "Maybe we should just find someone to finish the job, probably wouldn't be too hard to find a volunteer."

"That's not funny." It's clear in his voice that Albert's mouth is pressed into a thin, mirthless line. With the conversation they'd had before, Jet trying to make him promise that he'd kill Jet if it ever came to it, it's still something he doesn't want to entertain but also nothing he would ever leave to anyone else. He has terrible visions sometimes, memories of Jet being eaten alive, eyes rolling back in his head as flesh is torn from bone; bleeding out on the museum floor; falling from such a height that he turns to stardust...

How many times is he going to have to watch Jet die?

"You'll just have to make do." His voice is so quiet and collected but it still can't hide the desolate weight of death that Albert feels pressing down. "Please."

"I know...sorry." Joking about it was the only power over his fear he had, but it was badly timed and he recognized his mistake in Albert's tone. He wouldn't let someone else kill the German either; he needed to remember that what he thought for himself didn't mean it was how Albert saw things, he only had to turn the question around to know the real answer.

He can hear it, the pain in his partner's voice and he can only assume he put it there. Jet's regret was worn on his sleeve, though he kept his face down. "I will...I'll try." It's the best he can do.

Jet was silent, hesitating as he thought about how Albert was feeling and how he was feeling, all the helplessness and fear between them...there was nothing they could do, but maybe there was something that could help.

"Al...come here...please." He wanted to feel the older man's touch, to have his fiance in his arms as Jet lay in his; he wanted that closeness, though he didn't know fully how to ask for it. He hadn't had to ask for it in a long time, it was usually simply given to him.

He didn't mean to make Jet ask. He wasn't his intent at all to get wrapped up in his own worries concerning their future in the arena. No, he's supposed to support Jet in his time of need, keep him from panicking or feeling too low.

Some help he is.

Albert moves back over, pulling Jet against him gently with his arm remaining around his fiance's shoulders. "I'm here."

He lets out a soft breath, recentering himself, focusing on what's important; protecting the man in his arms.

"I'm here."

Jet's arms came up to wrap around his partner, his forehead resting against the German's neck. "Thank you."

His voice was quiet, but already he felt marginally better. The slight shakiness in his frame settled under Albert's warmth and some of the fear finally abated, despite the dark and the quiet.

"Al...what you said about the books and the music player...I'd like that."

Even if he couldn't listen to it while Albert was gone, having something distracting while the German was there would be nice too. He was going to say something about finding something to alleviate the silence while his partner was gone, but another thought occurred to him.

"Hey...promise me you'll actually get some sleep and not drive yourself into the ground trying to protect me."

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silberfuchs - 2014-09-05 03:32 (UTC) - Expand

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To be blind is not miserable; to not be able to bare blindness, that is miserable

Albert--Third floor

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