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Fire and Flying
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Rating: All Ages/G
Spoilers: Play With Fire
Summary: A short ficlet written from Greg's point of view. Post-ep for Play With Fire.
I can't help doing it. The skin is raw, broken in places, and sore if I touch it, but it's not something I can control. I pick at it sometimes. I touch it just to make myself wince, and I know that's self-destructive and a million other negative psychological classifications, but the truth is that sometimes I enjoy the pain.
I never thought that feeling the sharp sting of torn skin would feel so close to good, but it does. I never would have asked Catherine to blow up the lab, never had the slightest desire to be forced to live through a hot, burning nightmare of smoke and airborne glass. I still wake up, trembling and nearly delusional, weeks later. When I wake this way, head full of fire and flying, I force myself to lie on my back, completely still. The healing skin pings with tiny pinpricks of agony, but I want to feel it.
It's the only way I can be sure I'm alive.
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