doubleobsession.net

Author: Rosalinda StMatthew
Fandoms: CSI:M, Superman
Warnings: Spoilers for CSI:M Seasons 1-3, Superman Returns

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

He paused, mid step, and sighed. This particular asshole was getting under his skin. “And why is that?”

“Because you might get hurt, Lieutenant.”

He turned around to face Parker. “What exactly is that supposed to-” He stopped mid sentence, as Parker’s eyes went wide. He heard the tell tale click, barely noticeable above the whine of metal grating against metal as a file drawer opened. He whipped his head around to see one of his CSIs ruffling through papers.

The young man must have felt the eyes on his back, because he turned around and blinked, a worried look on his face. “What’d I do?”

There was no time to answer. All he could do was grab the CSI and pull him to the ground as the world imploded around them.

—

So many voices. He sifted through them all, trying to determine who was in real danger, who was beyond help, who he could save, who he would have to abandon to fend for themselves. There were children crying everywhere, as always. Ironically, those were the cries that moved him the least. There were almost always adults nearby to lend assistance. Adults, on the other hand-

There was a boom, directly below, loud enough to hold his attention for more than a nanosecond. Immediately afterwards came calls for assistance, warnings issued- sounded liked a bombing in an official building. Superman turned his attention away, and began to sift through other voices. He was too late to save them. He could hear the rescue attempts along with several other small disasters in other areas. He was trying to decide between a chemical fire in Paris and a runaway train in Moscow when the cries in the governmental building came to a head. The building was collapsing. A brief rundown - the fire was in a large building away from the population, the train, though carrying some workers, was mostly cargo and currently in an open tundra, and the official building was full of people, and… criminals escaping? Police officers. Decision made, Superman dove towards Earth, heading for the coast of Florida.

—

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to keep the debris from falling in his eyes. It took him a moment to understand what exactly he was seeing. Damien Parker was trapped underneath a pillar, face ripped to shreds by the glass from the windows all over the Trace Lab. So much for design, Boa Vista. If Parker was alive, he couldn’t tell from his vantage point. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was still alive, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He looked down, to see if his underling was riding that same horse. “Ryan?” There was no response. He was still holding the man to his chest, buried under a sea of glass and shrapnel. He tried to move his arm away from Ryan’s back, but found that was a mistake. He’d been hit in the shoulder by flying scrap metal. He looked at it and realized there was blood - quite a bit of it. “Mr. Wolfe,” he hissed insistently. Maybe he wasn’t so lucky after all.

He could make out sounds of people crying, orders being barked, rescue teams ferreting through the rubble. He wondered how much longer he’d have to wait for help. “HEY!” He choked on the fine dust, pain searing his shoulder. Dammit. He tried to wrest his other arm free, but it was pinned underneath him, twisted just enough to make movement impossible. His impatience grew by leaps and bounds - he was terrified, more terrified than he’d been the day his mother died. “HELP!”

Something creaked nearby, but it came from a direction far away from the clipped shouts of any rescue teams. Oh God. He thought about what Parker could have possibly used to rig the file cabinet - jumping to conclusions again - but he couldn’t get his mind to settle long enough to make any decent guess. All he knew was that something was creaking above his head, something that sounded suspiciously like a cave in. “HELP!”

There were screams from above - he hadn’t realized how silent they’d been - and then a horrible crash. He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered a prayer. An unbidden image of a little girl with red curls and rosy freckled cheeks flashed in his mind’s eye. He hoped her mother would be able to make it alone.

There was a gush of wind, and he braced for impact.

Nothing.

A weight was lifted from him, forcing his split arm to move. He cried out in agony, then opened his eyes to see Ryan Wolfe levitating a few feet above him. What…?

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 30th, 2006 at 7:19 pm and is filed under Fiction, Miami, Rosalinda, Superman, Unfinished. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.