fitz blanches in the low lighting, looking a little motion sick already with the vibrations of the ship's engine as it's warming up. it takes a moment. the rise and fall of his chest steadies; his smile takes some evening out. shiro waits for his cue and doesn't rush, lets fitz take his time to wrestle with his ghosts, to make peace with the fact that it's not the company dragging him out into the far reaches of space to take care of business. after all, it doesn't take more than a good guess to figure that this isn't some sort of remedial errand for a man who's done nothing more than to invent, than to create. for fitz, it must be personal.
but he doesn't ask.
t-minus ten seconds, and the countdown starts in a rumbling. the thrum of their comm continues its sequence in their ears, and he's closing his eyes, opening them to the constellations dotting the twilight sky.
three,
two,
one, and the rush comes quick, pressure enough to feel gravity drag along their seats as the ship takes off the ground, as the buildings and their headquarters disappear behind their peripheral. there's tension, of course, heavier still than the machines they'd been strapped down into during the physical. they break the stratosphere, and maybe that's the worst of it.
they're flying in the darkness, with stars freckling as far as the eye can see. at least it's a pretty sight. ]
no subject
fitz blanches in the low lighting, looking a little motion sick already with the vibrations of the ship's engine as it's warming up. it takes a moment. the rise and fall of his chest steadies; his smile takes some evening out. shiro waits for his cue and doesn't rush, lets fitz take his time to wrestle with his ghosts, to make peace with the fact that it's not the company dragging him out into the far reaches of space to take care of business. after all, it doesn't take more than a good guess to figure that this isn't some sort of remedial errand for a man who's done nothing more than to invent, than to create. for fitz, it must be personal.
but he doesn't ask.
t-minus ten seconds, and the countdown starts in a rumbling. the thrum of their comm continues its sequence in their ears, and he's closing his eyes, opening them to the constellations dotting the twilight sky.
three,
two,
one, and the rush comes quick, pressure enough to feel gravity drag along their seats as the ship takes off the ground, as the buildings and their headquarters disappear behind their peripheral. there's tension, of course, heavier still than the machines they'd been strapped down into during the physical. they break the stratosphere, and maybe that's the worst of it.
they're flying in the darkness, with stars freckling as far as the eye can see. at least it's a pretty sight. ]
. . . you all right over there?