badfic_manor | Video/Action

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[The beach, the water, the blue sky...it's paradise. In theory. Because one man's paradise is another man's hell, and that man would be Matt. The only possible, logical reason for him to be sitting on the beach, his towel spread out between him and that cursed sand, is that he's under orders to do so.

He looks miserable.

And pissed.

And his nose is covered in sunscreen.

Matt takes a drag from his cigarette before letting it rest on a small plastic ashtray. He reaches for a neon green gun and points it at his head, closing his eyes before pulling the trigger. Squirt! The stream of cold water hits his cheek, and there's very very temporary relief from the heat.

Matt reaches for his cigarette, but it's not exactly where he left it. The ashtray has mysteriously 'grown' eight legs and is walking away.

Anyone for crab legs?]

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[Probably not Olympic but certainly miles above most. And he has a lot of pride and a lot of dignity no matter what he's doing. Mello treads water and snickers as Matt struggles]

Alright, you're getting there.

Getting there? Fuck!

[Of course, as he talks, he gets water in his mouth. But his head stays above the surface.]

That's what I said.

[Mello furrows his brow]

Be careful.

[Matt presses his lips together, resisting the urge to say anymore and instead concentrating on his paddle. Eventually his movements get a little smoother, propel him a little further, allow him to swim a little faster.

But he's also swimming -away- from the shore.]

[Mello swims in front of him, blocking off his path from going even deeper]

We're going towards to shore, genius. There's nothing out there but water, remember? So either turn your ass towards the shore.

[Matt pauses, panting softly.]

Maybe we can find...a deserted island.

We've already got one of those. It's that way.

[Points to the shore]

You're doing pretty well so far, though.

Not a deserted island if there's other people there.

[He sighs.]

...Where I left my smokes though.

[After another second of consideration, he turns and starts swimming back in the direction of the shore.]

[Mello keeps pace next to him]

Swim to shore and we'll call it a day. You can take as many breaks as you need but I'm not helping you unless you go fucking under. Think you're up to it?

Come on, give me a little credit.

[He was the third. It might not mean much to Mello, but compared to the rest of the world...Matt has to be a pretty fast learner.

He just doesn't like it.]

Being smart and being a swimmer are too different things, especially when years of smoking have given you the lung capacity of a two year old.

[But he smirks, he knows Matt can do it.]

But trust me, I'm not worried. I never would have kicked you in the water if I didn't think you could do it.

Yeah...next time, let's just assume I can do it and quit there.

[He finally reaches the shore and crawls up on it, collapsing on the wet sand.]

[Mello steps out of the surf and crouches over him]

You made it. Christ, that was incredible.

[He pokes Matt with a sandy toe]

You alive?

[In a word?]

No.

[Mello snorts and lugs Matt to his feet]

Come on, Matt. It's over.

Yeah. And I'm too fuckin' exhausted to make you keep your promise. Clever.

You don't have to use it immediately.

[After walking a few feet and realizing that Matt's going to use him as a crutch Mello sighs and rolls is eyes]

Matt you swam sixty feet you didn't fight a fucking war. Come on, one leg in front of the other.

Can't.

[Matt pauses, slumping forward a little.]

Gonna have to carry me.

Oh for fuck's sake.

[He picks him up, carrying Matt like Superman would Lois Lane. He walks Matt about sixty feet before dropping him in the sand]

There. You're fine.

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