FIC: Broken English - Part 8 - (Giles/Ethan) - R

[estepheia]

Ethan-ficathon Masterlist

I'm sorry about the long wait. Although I tinkered with the chapter almost every day, I never made real progress until this morning. The last two weeks were both busy and lazy. I took time off, the kids were at home, we made a few trips, played computer games. Anyway, the next part is almost finished. I hope it won't take me long to update.

TITLE: Broken English Part 8
PAIRING: Giles/Ethan
RATING: will eventually be R
SPOILERS: Set after 8x04 The Long Way Home (comics); set in Germany, btw
PROMPT: a vacation or roadtrip, magic, slash
WRITTEN FOR: spikendru

PREVIOUS PARTS: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

A great ball of fire erupts from the car and colours the night blood red, followed closely by a shockwave of heat and a loud blast, as the other car explodes in a magical fireball of epic proportions...

... power surges...

.. a young man’s body is hurled into the air and slammed against the trunk of a tree...

... enough power for Giles to...

Teleport.

Part 8

One instant Ethan is overwhelmed by terrifying heat and noise and the ecstatic sensation of touching Rupert, just like old times, of spilling all his power into him; the next instant the connection is severed: Giles’s hand is yanked out of his grasp, and Ethan is falling into a black bottomless pit.

Judging by the inarticulate holler echoing his own, Rupert, too, is falling.

Without thinking, Ethan tries to levitate. The backlash nearly stops his ticker. He’s dry. Tapped out. Gave it all to Rupert. Fuck!

Dark shapes lash out at him. Tear at his suit. Arms? Tentacles? Arms flailing, Ethan gropes around in the dark, desperate for something - or someone - to cling to.

Misses. Misses again, then hits the ground with so much force, it steals his breath away.

So much for the bottomless pit.

For several seconds Ethan is too stunned to do anything, except lie still on his back, and gape at the snowflakes that drift from the ink-black sky. It seems his body no longer remembers how to breathe.

It does, however, remember how to ache with want. Pouring his magical powers into Rupert has made him hard. Ethan notes, not without amusement, that his hard-on is remarkably unimpressed by his current adverse circumstances. Brilliant timing.

Oh well, at least his heart’s still beating. Now, if only he could get a little air... Pretty please?

Finally, with a convulsive shudder, his breathing kicks in again. As he’s gasping for air, everything else returns as well: touch, hearing, pain. More importantly, the ability to make sense of what his senses tell him. Enough moonlight trickles from the sky, for Ethan to make out a host of bare, twisted trees. The dark tentacles? Branches, that’s all. The only reason why he didn’t break his neck: he landed on a thick, soggy bed of leaves. Several years worth of rotting, dank-smelling foliage.

Blast! This is so like Rupert. Rematerialising them fifteen feet above the ground in the middle of a fucking forest. Once a shitty driver, always a shitty driver.

Well, lying on the ground soaking up the cold and wetness while tiny pinpricks of ice melt on his face is not going to improve his health. Stifling a sigh, Ethan forces himself to sit up. His muscles and joints protest. Evidently, he’s too old for this shit.

Behind him, leaves rustle. Ethan turns to see Giles struggle into an upright position. He’s deathly pale. His nose is bleeding, lending him a savage appearance.

“Never a dull moment, mate. Out of the frying pan and into the freezer. Any particular reason why you picked a spot fifteen feet above the ground?”

“If you’d rather burn to a crisp, please feel free to teleport back to the car.” Rupert’s voice is cold, distant. “In fact, feel free to teleport anywhere you like.”

“What? And miss all the fun of being stuck with you? In the middle of nowhere? Not for all the dope in Holland.”

Rupert’s only reply is a furious glare.

“That’s the spirit.” Ethan puts on a cheeful smile. “Always look on the bright side. Better cold than dead. Mind you, old boy, you don’t look very alive to me.”

Giles doesn’t even try to hide his sigh of exasperation. “Unless you have something productive or helpful to offer, would you kindly shut up?” He bends over to gingerly probe his ankle with his fingertips. Grimaces.

Ethan gestures vaguely at Rupert’s face. “Just so you know: you’re bleeding.”

“Oh, uh, I am?” Giles wipes his nose and shrugs. “Just so you know: so are you.” His voice is flat, almost indifferent. Almost.

Eyebrows raised, Ethan mirrors Rupert’s movements; regards the smear on the back of his hand. His blood looks black in the monochrome moonlight. Ethan stifles a sigh.

The two sorcerers stare at each other, wary, yet also battle-weary and just a little broken, a host of unspoken words between them, and for a second, Ethan is overcome by so much want, it chokes him.

He knows a million ways to rub Rupert the wrong way, but not a single way to make things right. Chaos mages throw spanners into other people’s works, they are not meant to mend bridges, fill in trenches, or hand out olive branches. Even now, part of Ethan is contemplating ways to make Giles lose his composure. He’s itching to see if he still can. Old habits die hard.

The ground is too cold and wet to sit on, but Ethan is reluctant to destroy the unexpected symmetry. He considers enquiring after Rupert’s foot, but settles for an indignant “So. What the hell just happened?”

Giles does not answer. He quickly pats all his pockets, before searching them more methodically. In the end he squints up at the sky, then frowns at the surrounding trees.

“Well?”

“It seems my cell phone is currently being, uh, cremated in the car. You wouldn’t happen to...?”

“Sorry, mate.” Ethan lies.

Giles mutters something under his breath, too softly for Ethan to hear, but it’s easy to read the words off his lips: “Bugger!”

TBC

Comments

[shapinglight]

Great to see another chapter, and such fun to get inside Ethan's head and see him warring with his own instincts that way. Wonder why he lied to Giles about the cell phone?

More soon, please?

also, one tiny typo, 'is' in the last but one line instead of 'his.'

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

I fixed the typo. Thanks.
I'm glad you're still reading. It's hard to maintain interest in a story that is updated so infrequently. I know that from experience.
*hug*

[shapinglight]

Oh, I think you'll always have an audience for this one, though f/b goes down all the time, sadly, as interest wains in the fandom in general.

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

Yes, I noticed that there's a lot less feedback these days. It's been a while since the shows were cancelled. The comics are meh, not bad, but they don't inspire me the way the shows did. I miss hearing the characters speak.
*sigh*
I watch a lot of TV, but in most cases I am not interested in reading fanfic. In fact, I try to avoid it. Like e.g. Supernatural....

Oh well, I'm glad that this story found its handful of readers. I use it to practice my descriptive skills. :-)

I should, of course, write something in German and try to get it published, but I lack the energy and concentration.

[shapinglight]

I should, of course, write something in German and try to get it published, but I lack the energy and concentration.

Well, I'm sure you'll get it back one day and in the meantime, I'm very grateful to have this.

I agree about the comics. They're not exactly inspiring. Maybe the AtS one will be better.

[petzipellepingo.livejournal.com]

Great look into Ethan's thought, especially about his relationship with Giles. Hmm... hiding a cell phone...

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

Thank you.
Don't worry, you'll soon find out, what's going on with Ethan.

[philips.livejournal.com]

Still loving this story. In my mind, the layers that make up their relationship are nicely reflected by the hole they find themselves in. I'm confounded by Ethan's decision to lie about the cell phone but amused that, even being dropped on his head, he continues to be an interesting conundrum. Thank you.

[jmchau.livejournal.com]

Nice nice!

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

Still enjoying, and intrigued as to what's going on with Ethan.

[(Anonymous)]

I finally figured out the icon to hit to give feedback to this excellent story. Lurker here. I have been following this fic faithfully. I am not a huge G/E fan but this and Ann Emress(misspelled) story, 'Twisting the Knife' both capture the intriguing relationship that is essential to thys dynamic. You do it so well. I try to send all my favorite authors feedback. Can't wait for more. I get most all of my fan fic (Usually only BTVS giles centric from Gileswatchers) so I will keep a lookout. Thanks again Vehnu

[firefly124.livejournal.com]

Bugger indeed.

“If you’d rather burn to a crisp, please feel free to teleport back to the car.”

ROFL!! I can absolutely hear Giles saying that.

I'm glad I saw your comment to someone else to use the "ethan" tag, so that I could catch up! I'm worried, though, that it's been since November. Any chance of there being more?

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

Hi, thank you so much for leaving feedback!!

To tell the truth, I've been struggling with the next chapter. I've rewritten it at least a dozen times. I've rewatched all Ethan episodes to get into his head, and succeeded, but right now I feel I'm not doing Giles justice. He refuses to take charge. Just sits there, moping, and worrying about the grimoire and his broken foot. And he stubbornly refuses to find out what Ethan wants from him, because he tells himself he doesn't care. (which is, actually, a step backwards from him, since he'd decided in the burning car that he's not leaving without Ethan). So, you see, Giles is being a pain in the neck. ;-)

*sigh*

It's always a problem if I get interrupted for a longer stretch of time, but I never get to write in December - too busy with Christmas and two family birthdays.

When I start a story, the creative part of my brain takes over and I just try to write as much as possible, while I'm on the roll. But then the analytical part of my brain takes over, and that's very critical. So I kind of kill my own creativity.

The benefit of the analytical brain half is that it comes up with metaphors and themes and some of the layers. Unfortunately, it's not always easy to put all the ideas into the story without writing endless scenes in which nothing actually happens. :-)
Right now, I'm paralyzed by my own over-analytical-ness. But the file is open...

[firefly124.livejournal.com]

I hear you about the critical side taking over and slowing things down. I'm glad to hear the file is open and hope your creative side takes the reins again for a bit. :-)

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

Just a quick hi to let you know I finally updated my G/E fic Broken English. I hope you're still interested, even though I haven't updated for ages.

[hello-spikey.livejournal.com]

Once a shitty driver, always a shitty driver.

heeeee!

Well, I'm so glad they're safe on the ground. Er, for the time being. No cell, no way to get out of the cold, they will be having an uncomfortable night of it at the least.

ADORE your mixture of mundane details that keeps this all grounded in the reality of these two characters. *Swoon* Awesome with awesome sauce!

[estepheia.livejournal.com]

Thank you!
Setting the story in Germany was an experiment, I'm pleased that it works.