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tj_teejayTitle: Too Much Noise In Perfect Silence
Author: TeeJay
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thenewpub Prompt: Communicate through touch
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There was an odd ringing in his ears. Not a whistle, not a whooshing, but something in between.
Author's Note: It doesn't happen often that I write original fiction, but I just didn't want to do this to any of my favorite TV show characters.Though if you're a sucker for angsty super-angst, feel free to imagine Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke.
He opened his eyes. Slowly, confusingly, the world around him took shape. A strange room, an unfamiliar bed. White sheets. Metal rails. Hospital. Disorientation. Dull pain.
And something was off. Something— It was too quiet. Yet not quiet at all. There was an odd ringing in his ears. Not a whistle, not a whooshing, but something in between.
His hands reached out for his ears to see if something was covering them. There was only skin and cartilage.
His eyes darted around—wildly, panicked. Where was he?
Someone came into view. A shadow, a familiar face. The mouth formed his name, but no sound accompanied it. His eyes were wide now, his breath quick. What was going on?
"Hey," the mouth seemed to say, "Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It's okay."
Or maybe he was just imagining it. He felt a warm hand on his thigh, then on his arm. He sought out the face, the eyes, the familiarity in a world without sound, and he wanted to scream.
He did, he shouted words, and they vibrated up through his chest, his throat and into his skull. Deep and hollow and dull. Not quite sounds. Oscillations of a tone that carried through his bones to where he could feel them, almost imagine them.
"No!"
It fell quiet in the uproar of silence.
He felt warm hands engulf his jaw, pulling his head upward, holding it still. His panic momentarily quelled, he looked up, into those warm, brown eyes.
The hands holding his jaw loosened a little, one falling to his shoulder, where it lingered. A thumb softly pressed into his collarbone.
For the first time, he looked, he read. And he saw, and it frightened him. There was something in those eyes, a truth he was afraid to face, a sadness that told him what he didn't want to know.
He swallowed, his breath hitching, his nostrils flaring. No! it rang through his mind. No, this can't be!
His companion turned, moved his mouth, spoke to someone. A silent movie in technicolor. Then the touch was back, skin on skin on his lower arm.
A notepad materialized, a pen scribbling hasty letters. It was held out to him, and he read, "It's OK. You're OK."
It was pure instinct to write back instead of speak. "Am I deaf?"
His companion's hand hovered over the notepad, the fingers shaking slightly. What he read in his companion's eyes, his face, it was enough of an answer. A sheen of moisture clouded his corneas, and he already knew what the answer would be.
He almost didn't dare read what was written on paper.
"Yes."
Author: TeeJay
thenewpub Prompt: Communicate through touchGenre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There was an odd ringing in his ears. Not a whistle, not a whooshing, but something in between.
Author's Note: It doesn't happen often that I write original fiction, but I just didn't want to do this to any of my favorite TV show characters.
+-+-+-+-+
He opened his eyes. Slowly, confusingly, the world around him took shape. A strange room, an unfamiliar bed. White sheets. Metal rails. Hospital. Disorientation. Dull pain.
And something was off. Something— It was too quiet. Yet not quiet at all. There was an odd ringing in his ears. Not a whistle, not a whooshing, but something in between.
His hands reached out for his ears to see if something was covering them. There was only skin and cartilage.
His eyes darted around—wildly, panicked. Where was he?
Someone came into view. A shadow, a familiar face. The mouth formed his name, but no sound accompanied it. His eyes were wide now, his breath quick. What was going on?
"Hey," the mouth seemed to say, "Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It's okay."
Or maybe he was just imagining it. He felt a warm hand on his thigh, then on his arm. He sought out the face, the eyes, the familiarity in a world without sound, and he wanted to scream.
He did, he shouted words, and they vibrated up through his chest, his throat and into his skull. Deep and hollow and dull. Not quite sounds. Oscillations of a tone that carried through his bones to where he could feel them, almost imagine them.
"No!"
It fell quiet in the uproar of silence.
He felt warm hands engulf his jaw, pulling his head upward, holding it still. His panic momentarily quelled, he looked up, into those warm, brown eyes.
The hands holding his jaw loosened a little, one falling to his shoulder, where it lingered. A thumb softly pressed into his collarbone.
For the first time, he looked, he read. And he saw, and it frightened him. There was something in those eyes, a truth he was afraid to face, a sadness that told him what he didn't want to know.
He swallowed, his breath hitching, his nostrils flaring. No! it rang through his mind. No, this can't be!
His companion turned, moved his mouth, spoke to someone. A silent movie in technicolor. Then the touch was back, skin on skin on his lower arm.
A notepad materialized, a pen scribbling hasty letters. It was held out to him, and he read, "It's OK. You're OK."
It was pure instinct to write back instead of speak. "Am I deaf?"
His companion's hand hovered over the notepad, the fingers shaking slightly. What he read in his companion's eyes, his face, it was enough of an answer. A sheen of moisture clouded his corneas, and he already knew what the answer would be.
He almost didn't dare read what was written on paper.
"Yes."
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-14 02:44 pm (UTC)Well done!
♥
no subject
Date: 2011-08-14 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 04:09 pm (UTC)I'm deaf on one ear and that's exactly how it feels. You can't hear, but it's not quiet, it's like something is missing. I hate the sound, that 'ringing' that's not even a sound.
Wonderful job.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 08:58 pm (UTC)