may i humbly request a virgil fic... big soft man with big brown eyes... comfort me.
if you do so just know i will walk about with a fic shaped lump in throat
Soft
With thanks to @mariashades
~
I wince.
I can’t help it.
Despite the care, the tenderness and gentleness the man in front of me is displaying, it still hurts.
His eyes swim with concern for me and he pauses in his treatment. I wiggle to try and get a little more comfortable and he takes my uninjured hand in both of his.
‘Take a breath.’
I blink. He nods encouragingly at me and breathes in, a very exaggerated breath. He holds it a little before breathing out. It’s quite ridiculous and I find myself smiling.
We breathe together for a while. The panic recedes. The pain too, a little anyway. It will never go away completely – I’m too disabled for that – but the breathing exercise does help me.
He releases my hands gently and picks up the wipe he’s using to clean the new cuts I’ve picked up from being thrown from my chair during the earthquake.
The earthquake.
I look around in a little bit of a panic. Surely there are more people to be rescued, more important injured that he should be paying more attention to, and I try to pull away from him but he gently but firmly holds my hand.
He doesn’t let go but he does frown at me.
‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine.’
At that he snorts a laugh and his face breaks out into a smile. At my raised eyebrow he looks faintly embarrassed.
‘Sorry, you just sounded so much like someone else I know.’
‘It’s only cuts and bruises. Surely you have others to attend to?’
‘Nope. You are the last one.’
‘Oh.’
The shock of that statement melts away any of the resistance I had been feeling, and with a broad grin he releases my hand and continues his ministrations.
I just sit there, perched on the infirmary bed in the massive green Thunderbird, and watch him. Every now and then he glances up at me to make sure I’m ok.
There’s something…compelling about those brown eyes.
They are full of vibrant emotions. Care, of course. Amusement certainly. A depth that I cannot quite put my finger on.
And then he’s finished fixing me up and he turns to my wheelchair.
One wheel has buckled. The other has lost its tire. It’s a mess but as I sit there and watch he’s pulled a drawer open and taken out some kind of multitool and he’s fixing it.
He wrestles the tire back on first before turning his attention to the other. It’s not budging though, even when he applies his (not inconsiderable) muscles to it. He drops the tool and frowns before hitting his green baldric.
‘Thunderbird Five?’
‘Yes, Thunderbird Two?’
‘I need a new wheel for this chair.’
‘Scanning…I think I can organise something. Give me 10 minutes.’
‘FAB.’
Putting my chair down my rescuer turns to me. Ten minutes feels like a very long time to sit here with a complete stranger. A nice one, to be sure, but still…
‘Do you like coffee?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Coffee. Would you like a cup?’
‘Oh. Oh, sorry! Yes, I’d love a cup.’
He grins again and moves to the other side of the room. I watch as he seems to create two mugs of steaming coffee from nothing and he returns, hands one to me and sits on the bed opposite me.
‘Thank you…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’
‘I’m Virgil.’
‘Thank you, Virgil.’
He smiles warmly at me and once more I am drawn to those gorgeous brown eyes.
We drink. We make light conversation. I tell him about my three cats at home and my love of a decent coffee. He tells me about his brothers.
Just as he’s finishing telling me about Scott, the one who also says “I’m fine” the way I do there’s a knock on the door. It opens to admit a shorter man in the same uniform but a yellow baldric.
‘Hi! I’m Gordon.’
But I’m not really listening to him. All I have eyes for is the chair he has brought with him.
It’s not my chair. It’s not even the same model of my chair. No – it’s the top-of-the-range wheelchair, one I could never ever hope to afford.
I am aware I am sitting there, staring and my mouth is hanging open.
Gordon grins, positions it beside my bed and leaves. But not without a wink at his brother that has Virgil blushing.
It’s endearing…
And then Virgil puts his cup down and takes mine. He helps me up, his hands on my hips and assisting me by taking my weight and letting me press down on his arms as he helps me into his chair. I wiggle around again, this time to get a feel for the chair and the new cushion.
‘Would you like us to take you home?’
‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m not that far away and it’s in the opposite direction from the quake zone. I’m sure you have more important things to do.’
‘Would you like me to help you outside?’
‘Please.’
Virgil wheels me outside. The devastation is not as bad here, away from the epicentre, and he takes me over to a nice flat area.
He watches as I try my new chair out, turning in circles and left and right before finally pulling sharply back and into a wheelie.
Ohhh this chair is amazing and I can’t help but let out a whoop. I turn to face him and Virgil is grinning widely.
He waves and then he’s gone.
I watch the ship lower and then turn and trundle away from me before it takes off straight up.
I never thought I’d ever see a Thunderbird, much less be rescued by one.
And I’ll never forget those soft brown eyes and gentle hands…
