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bootsonTitle: All Washed Out
Series: This is What's Left
Pairing: pre-Brendon/Mikey
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hc_bingo prompt: Headaches/Migraines
Summary: Sooner or later, the roaring hellfire living in the center of Mikey’s brain was going to melt his skull from the inside out.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Physical headaches, unintentional mindlinking, side effects of scientific experimentation, imprisonment
Word Count: 1045
Disclaimer: Know nothing. Own nothing.
Author's Notes: This is the stand alone next part to the This is What's Left series shared with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dr_jasley. All you need to know is that this is a futuristic AU in which Mikey has been kidnapped by alien (Udonian) researchers.
Waiting for the Burn Out
A Shadow of Hope (Gerard's version of Waiting for the Burn Out bydr_jasley
Reach Out, Scream Out
Sooner or later, the roaring hellfire living in the center of Mikey’s brain was going to melt his skull from the inside out. The migraine that started the day after the Udonians had worked their scientific brain-voodoo still refused to let up. If anything, every minute made the unbearable ache worse.
His thoughts kept reaching out, sliding from his head, into the ether and bouncing back with a vengeance when they failed to find whatever-the-fuck they were aiming for. It was intellectually frustrating and physically painful; Mikey didn’t know what to do anymore.
Nine months ago, Mikey would have been struggling, screaming at the top of his lungs. Now? Now, he couldn’t even think straight enough to remember full sentences. He’d given up fighting to let the Udonians inject him with anything, in the vain attempt to find a little relief. One tiny minute of freedom from the sharp pins and needles feel inside his head would have been enough.
Nothing worked. Three times a day the Udonians came in with food that Mikey could never keep down and an injection of something the tall, stern Udonian woman promised would lessen the pain. He let them drag him out of his cell without kicking up a fuss whenever they took him to the tiny shower cubicle.
Those shower excursions started happening less and less frequently after the fourth time Mikey made it half-way there before collapsing into a heap right in the middle of the sparkling white corridor. Mikey didn’t know what it was, but whenever they took him down that hall, his brain started getting fuzzy. Every thought, every feeling he had started racing and jerking through his body. The reverberation got worse until all Mikey felt was a constant barrage of violent slapping when his thoughts became more adamant.
Those times always meant Mikey had to be physically carried back to his room and lifted onto his cot. Those were the only times Mikey actually fought; he had to. There was this room at the end of the hall, down the opposite path from the shower, and everything in Mikey was telling him he had to get in there.
Whatever thing his fucking thoughts kept trying to latch onto was there . Every step Mikey took toward that room caused everything in his brain to tug harder, scream louder. Or maybe Mikey actually screamed. There was really no way to tell since everything started to get a little foggy when his brainwaves locked onto that mystery target. All Mikey knew was that he wanted, needed to get down there or his head was going to shatter; his skull would just break apart until there was nothing but blood left behind.
Honestly, Mikey was kind of okay with letting that happen if it meant his head would finally stop hurting so badly. Gerard would be angry when he eventually found Mikey and realized he was dead, but it was a risk Mikey was willing to take after the most recent attempt down the corridor.
He’d been shocked into submission and locked back into his cell-slash-room. His head was still reeling, thoughts circling and bouncing off each other and the walls. The violence from something that should never be vicious was making Mikey gag, choke on nothing and dry heave.
This was it; this had to be the end of it all. Mikey’s head was throbbing worse and worse, that spot deep inside his head being rubbed raw until Mikey half-expected blood to be leaking from his ears.
There was a sound, a barely audible hiss, followed by shuffling. Mikey whined and reached out, clutching at nothing until…
Until it all stopped.
The crackling pain in his brain just… stopped. Something soothed over it, calming his wayward thoughts and meeting them with something that was so obviously full of energy but soothing and oddly familiar at the same time.
Just as cool, sweaty fingers touched his, Mikey felt the change. His thoughts hadn’t stopped flowing. No, there was a new current, something conducting Mikey’s thoughts and adding to them.
The all too recognizable gasp that broke the serenity of Mikey’s pain-free head sounded jagged.
“Bren?” Mikey bit out, looking up through suddenly clear eyes. He didn’t like what he saw.
Brendon was paler than the last time Mikey had seen him. There was a fine sheen of perspiration coating Brendon’s skin, and his eyes were wide, pupils blown. Mikey felt himself start to shake in time with the tremors he felt through Brendon’s fingers.
Something bright and clear kept hitting Mikey in that spot where the pain had been. It took a second for Mikey to identify it as fear. For the first time since Mikey could ever remember, there was terror and uncertainty in his mind that didn’t belong to him.
“What…” Mikey started but trailed off.
Brendon’s eyes slammed shut as he squeezed Mikey’s hand. “I… Mikey. I can hear you.”
In an instant, Mikey knew Brendon didn’t mean the words flowing from Mikey’s lips. Mikey could fucking feel the confusion rolling off Brendon, the smashed together phrases that appeared between the words Brendon actually said. He sat up, reaching out to frame Brendon’s face, make Brendon meet his eyes.
Mikey didn’t even say it, just thought Brendon, look, come on with as much urgency as he could muster; Brendon’s eyes flew open, his breathing going erratic.
Mikey didn’t have to look to know that the reason those headaches were gone, the thing his thoughts had been struggling toward, everything his newly fucked up brain wanted was right in front of him. He didn’t know how to deal with that, had no clue what to do, especially since Brendon was shaking and gripping Mikey’s shoulders, silently begging with everything he had for Mikey to get out, please, get out of my head, can’t, Mikey.
Mikey wanted to help, wanted to make it stop, but holy hell. Finally, after all of this, his head didn’t hurt, anymore. Scaring the ever loving shit out of Brendon was a horribly upsetting side effect.
He settled for leaning his forehead against Brendon's and breathing.
Next Part: Iron the Kinks Out
Series: This is What's Left
Pairing: pre-Brendon/Mikey
hc_bingo prompt: Headaches/MigrainesSummary: Sooner or later, the roaring hellfire living in the center of Mikey’s brain was going to melt his skull from the inside out.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Physical headaches, unintentional mindlinking, side effects of scientific experimentation, imprisonment
Word Count: 1045
Disclaimer: Know nothing. Own nothing.
Author's Notes: This is the stand alone next part to the This is What's Left series shared with
dr_jasley. All you need to know is that this is a futuristic AU in which Mikey has been kidnapped by alien (Udonian) researchers.Waiting for the Burn Out
A Shadow of Hope (Gerard's version of Waiting for the Burn Out by
dr_jasleyReach Out, Scream Out
Sooner or later, the roaring hellfire living in the center of Mikey’s brain was going to melt his skull from the inside out. The migraine that started the day after the Udonians had worked their scientific brain-voodoo still refused to let up. If anything, every minute made the unbearable ache worse.
His thoughts kept reaching out, sliding from his head, into the ether and bouncing back with a vengeance when they failed to find whatever-the-fuck they were aiming for. It was intellectually frustrating and physically painful; Mikey didn’t know what to do anymore.
Nine months ago, Mikey would have been struggling, screaming at the top of his lungs. Now? Now, he couldn’t even think straight enough to remember full sentences. He’d given up fighting to let the Udonians inject him with anything, in the vain attempt to find a little relief. One tiny minute of freedom from the sharp pins and needles feel inside his head would have been enough.
Nothing worked. Three times a day the Udonians came in with food that Mikey could never keep down and an injection of something the tall, stern Udonian woman promised would lessen the pain. He let them drag him out of his cell without kicking up a fuss whenever they took him to the tiny shower cubicle.
Those shower excursions started happening less and less frequently after the fourth time Mikey made it half-way there before collapsing into a heap right in the middle of the sparkling white corridor. Mikey didn’t know what it was, but whenever they took him down that hall, his brain started getting fuzzy. Every thought, every feeling he had started racing and jerking through his body. The reverberation got worse until all Mikey felt was a constant barrage of violent slapping when his thoughts became more adamant.
Those times always meant Mikey had to be physically carried back to his room and lifted onto his cot. Those were the only times Mikey actually fought; he had to. There was this room at the end of the hall, down the opposite path from the shower, and everything in Mikey was telling him he had to get in there.
Whatever thing his fucking thoughts kept trying to latch onto was there . Every step Mikey took toward that room caused everything in his brain to tug harder, scream louder. Or maybe Mikey actually screamed. There was really no way to tell since everything started to get a little foggy when his brainwaves locked onto that mystery target. All Mikey knew was that he wanted, needed to get down there or his head was going to shatter; his skull would just break apart until there was nothing but blood left behind.
Honestly, Mikey was kind of okay with letting that happen if it meant his head would finally stop hurting so badly. Gerard would be angry when he eventually found Mikey and realized he was dead, but it was a risk Mikey was willing to take after the most recent attempt down the corridor.
He’d been shocked into submission and locked back into his cell-slash-room. His head was still reeling, thoughts circling and bouncing off each other and the walls. The violence from something that should never be vicious was making Mikey gag, choke on nothing and dry heave.
This was it; this had to be the end of it all. Mikey’s head was throbbing worse and worse, that spot deep inside his head being rubbed raw until Mikey half-expected blood to be leaking from his ears.
There was a sound, a barely audible hiss, followed by shuffling. Mikey whined and reached out, clutching at nothing until…
Until it all stopped.
The crackling pain in his brain just… stopped. Something soothed over it, calming his wayward thoughts and meeting them with something that was so obviously full of energy but soothing and oddly familiar at the same time.
Just as cool, sweaty fingers touched his, Mikey felt the change. His thoughts hadn’t stopped flowing. No, there was a new current, something conducting Mikey’s thoughts and adding to them.
The all too recognizable gasp that broke the serenity of Mikey’s pain-free head sounded jagged.
“Bren?” Mikey bit out, looking up through suddenly clear eyes. He didn’t like what he saw.
Brendon was paler than the last time Mikey had seen him. There was a fine sheen of perspiration coating Brendon’s skin, and his eyes were wide, pupils blown. Mikey felt himself start to shake in time with the tremors he felt through Brendon’s fingers.
Something bright and clear kept hitting Mikey in that spot where the pain had been. It took a second for Mikey to identify it as fear. For the first time since Mikey could ever remember, there was terror and uncertainty in his mind that didn’t belong to him.
“What…” Mikey started but trailed off.
Brendon’s eyes slammed shut as he squeezed Mikey’s hand. “I… Mikey. I can hear you.”
In an instant, Mikey knew Brendon didn’t mean the words flowing from Mikey’s lips. Mikey could fucking feel the confusion rolling off Brendon, the smashed together phrases that appeared between the words Brendon actually said. He sat up, reaching out to frame Brendon’s face, make Brendon meet his eyes.
Mikey didn’t even say it, just thought Brendon, look, come on with as much urgency as he could muster; Brendon’s eyes flew open, his breathing going erratic.
Mikey didn’t have to look to know that the reason those headaches were gone, the thing his thoughts had been struggling toward, everything his newly fucked up brain wanted was right in front of him. He didn’t know how to deal with that, had no clue what to do, especially since Brendon was shaking and gripping Mikey’s shoulders, silently begging with everything he had for Mikey to get out, please, get out of my head, can’t, Mikey.
Mikey wanted to help, wanted to make it stop, but holy hell. Finally, after all of this, his head didn’t hurt, anymore. Scaring the ever loving shit out of Brendon was a horribly upsetting side effect.
He settled for leaning his forehead against Brendon's and breathing.
Next Part: Iron the Kinks Out
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-18 10:10 pm (UTC)BREEEEEENDOOOOOON.
You described that headache so vividly I was cringing. I've had a couple migraines in my life, and oh GOD the pain. Having to deal with that for days without cease? KILL ME NOW.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 02:23 am (UTC)And Omg I'm so glad that worked. I basically took the worst migraine I ever had and multiplied it by 1000. I was worried that I was going overboard with the description.