Prompt#285 - Awakening – Start Again - Tekia – Original

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Start Again
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Awakening
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Jacky wakes in the dark once more.
Jacky didn’t remember falling sleep, but that was nothing new.
He blinked in the dim light, his nose wrinkling at the dust that was floating in the air. A moment later, he sneezed violently, curling up around his stomach. More dust stirred and he covered his mouth as he kept sneezing.
When the fit passed, he wiped at his watering eyes and looked around him. The room he was in was dark, only a thin beam of light breaking the shadows. From what he could see, there were a pair of stone lions guarding a door and the walls were painted with old, chipped art. He rubbed his eyes again, this time to help him wake up more. He swung his legs off the cot, the ropes creaking with his every movement.
The floor was cold under his bare feet and his heartbeat was loud in his ears in the silent room. The room that was very, very silent. He bit his lip and took another look around. Aside from the bearded lions and the cot, the room was empty. He scratched at his chest, and then stood.
Then promptly fell to the stone floor. His legs were tingling with pins and needles. He had been asleep for quite a while, hadn’t he? He kneaded his thighs, trying to ward off the pain inherent with sleeping limbs as he tried to process what had happened.
He had been on a dig, his fist dig, in the bowels of Turkey, translating the tablets they had found in the many libraries. He had been trapped in a dream.
That didn’t make any sense. He shook his head and moaned as that proved to not be such a smart idea. A headache throbbed behind his eyes to match the pain in his legs.
A dream? Something about a bee, he remembered. He hadn’t been afraid of bees, so clearly it hadn’t been a nightmare. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. A bee and flowers and something, no someone.
Blue eyes and a steady presence that always made Jacky feel safe.
Who?
He opened his eyes again and carefully gathered his feet under him. Using the cot as a brace, he stood and took a moment to steady himself on his feet. Breathing carefully and deeply, he pushed away from the cot and stared out at the dim room.
Mata’ka’ala. The god inside him and the fire and the warlord that was following them across the known world all came flooding back to him and he shivered with fear and renewed stress. What had happened while he was sleeping? How long was he sleeping?
He swallowed hard and turned toward the door again. He lurched forward and rested heavily against one of the lions and stared dully at the door. It was almost too much effort to reach out and unlatch the lock, but he forced himself to move and slipped through the door into another, darker, room. Startled, Jacky blinked rapidly in the stirring dust and smiled.
Mata’ka’ala.
The god king was laid out on a much more elaborate cot, inlaid in gold and covered with silk. He wore the domed helmet of a warrior, and held the staff and rod of a king in his hands. Jacky stumbled forward and knelt beside the sleeping king. He reached out and poked him in the cheek.
“Wake up,” Jacky murmured drowsily. Mata’ka’ala didn’t move. Frowning, Jackie poked him in the cheek again, harder. “Get up.”
Mata’ka’ala frowned in his sleep, displeasure on his features. He opened his eyes slowly and slanted them toward Jacky. Jacky forced a grin.
Mata’ka’ala’s eyes widened and he sat up abruptly. He groaned in pain and cupped his face in his hands.
“Yeah,” Jacky said, “Likewise.” He propped himself onto the cot and leaned heavily against Mata’ka’ala’s back. “How did we get here?”
Mata’ka’ala was quite, merely breathing deep, steadying breaths. Jacky felt him force the tension out of his shoulders. He sat up straight then and Jacky pulled away. Mata’ka’ala finally looked at him, really at him. Jacky smiled.
Mata’ka’ala didn’t return the smile but he did reach out for him, taking Jacky’s hand in his and threading their fingers together.
“Time is on our side. So the Mother has told us.”
Jacky had a vague memory of Mata’ka’ala telling him about his commune with the Mother goddess. He nodded, accepting his word for it. “So we slept.”
“We slept.”
Jacky frowned. “How long? How long do we have to sleep to escape the reaches of Kuzi-Teshub?”
“Years.”
Jacky felt his stomach drop and his heart was thudding even louder in his ears. He bit his lips and fisted his free hand against his stomach. “Years?”
“Years.”
“How many?” They hadn’t aged, he noticed with a bit of dispassion. He thought that maybe he should have more of an adverse reaction to this, but then again, this wasn’t the first time this had happened to him. “How many years?”
“I don’t know, yet. Shall we find out?” He stood and pulled Jacky to his feet.
Jacky didn’t miss how Mata’ka’ala didn’t have to deal with pins and needles.