It was a comforting blip on his PADD that led Harold to Scotty's spot on the beach.
Heh. He just kept coming back, didn't he? Harold was still very much a predictable creature. Still, this wasn't one of the patterns he wanted to break. This was Scotty and he was more than all right with the desire to find him.
Shit. Scotty looked-- pretty fucking hurt. Worse off than Harold was, certainly. The thought gave him a twist of anger, anguish, sympathy. Who would hurt someone as fucking-- well, good as this man?
He fought off the urge to vomit, as well as the pull to reach out, wake Scotty, ask him ten thousand questions. He could see Scotty was breathing, and there were signs of movement in the sand; he wasn't dead or dying.
Instead, Harold settled in the sand, cross-legged, and watched.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-08-21 05:30 pm (UTC)Heh. He just kept coming back, didn't he? Harold was still very much a predictable creature. Still, this wasn't one of the patterns he wanted to break. This was Scotty and he was more than all right with the desire to find him.
Shit. Scotty looked-- pretty fucking hurt. Worse off than Harold was, certainly. The thought gave him a twist of anger, anguish, sympathy. Who would hurt someone as fucking-- well, good as this man?
He fought off the urge to vomit, as well as the pull to reach out, wake Scotty, ask him ten thousand questions. He could see Scotty was breathing, and there were signs of movement in the sand; he wasn't dead or dying.
Instead, Harold settled in the sand, cross-legged, and watched.