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sga_flashficTitle: Box of Nothing
Author: kodiak_bear
Word Count: 1,100 +
Rating: R, implied
Summary: I want to see his paint but he tells me to look, then makes a thing out of my paper that I can only color purple, so I don’t like it much anyway, but when it flies – it flies. I only wish I could make purple flight again.
AN: Thanks Tazmy for the fast beta!
Box of Nothing
I love red. Red blankets, red walls, red ceilings. Doctor Hu says it’s because I killed my family, but I think it’s just ‘cause red is alive. I love alive. Doctor says I need to stop having red things, so I hoard them. I stuff ‘em under my mattress and I paint it on my body.
The new man, he says he likes red, too. Likes blue, green, red and all the colors in between. I told him that’s cheatin’. Pick one, I says, and he says he can’t. Says blue is for the skies he flies through and green’s for the lands he flies over. Says red’s for roses and flowers for girls sweet like me, and that he thinks Doctor lies about what I’ve done. That I’m not even from here anyway and my only crime was being caught, that this planet’s full of sadistic bastards.
I’m not sure bastards is something I know of, but I like his way more than the Doctor’s.
Funny thing is, I’m not sure when he was brought in. I had painted my body more than I should, and got a little sick, body and head, but Doctor says I’m sick anyway and just had them hold me down and sew me back up. I don’t like being sewn back up, ‘cause then I can’t paint anymore. It hurts to make paint.
He’s red, to me. He’s alive. He doesn’t belong.
I want to see his paint but he tells me to look, then makes a thing out of my paper that I can only color purple, so I don’t like it much anyway, but when it flies – it flies. I only wish I could make purple flight again.
They got mad at him then, came in and snatched my purple flight, and took my only friend. I painted a lot of red that night.
Time fluttered. Stuttered. Went and by, then he was back and I was back, and I wasn’t really sure of either.
I love to paint. Pretty colors, pretty people. He’s pretty. I’m always alone, so he bugs me, ‘cause no one else here wants to talk to him, either, but I don’t care. He likes my paintings, likes the pretty circles I draw.
“What is that?”
“Hole in me…hole in time. Hole in space and people. It’s a hole. There’s so many holes.”
Pokes holes, the brush makes them, I see them, dream them and want them. Big holes. Sometimes I think they’ll swallow me up. But I like red, and the holes are blue, so maybe they’ll never catch me.
“You don’t belong here.”
“I’m here.”
“No, you’re not. This…it isn’t you. It’s this place, they lie, you came from another city, another place. I’m here as a favor, to help the leader of that place. He’s your father, and misses you very much.”
Pretty man with the purple flight. Tongue of lies, says Doctor Hu, and he gets punished and locked in the box. The box of nothing. Empty, quiet, nothing. He goes and another one comes.
“Tall skinny man, brown hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in years, I seem to have misplaced him.”
One is sunrise, the other is sunset. I want both to say with me so I promise to stop painting red. I color green and purple and the sunrise is let free. His red has paled but he smiles at the sunset.
“They sent you in after me?”
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Colonel. I’m proficient in jail breaking.”
“Since when?”
“Since…now.”
Machines in his hand, machine. Ugly and dead, no color, no trust. I tell my sunrise and sunset to get it away from me and I run. It was all my fault, see, Doctor is right – I’m everything he says, death and hurt, worry and pain, and I watch them take my strength away.
Days in the box, days where I paint again and the red isn’t the same, because I’d promised. I made a promise.
A new lady arrives, she’s not red, or pale. She finds her men sitting with me in the corner. It’s mine, two walls and a point, and nothing can break it, my corner. I pushed once to try. I know. I thought she’d be mad, but she says a big ship is taking us away and there’s people to help me. Fix me. I’m broken?
I’m here; I’m there. People are here. So much noise and not enough color. My corner is gone, my box, my red, red. He says it’s okay, he tells them to leave me alone, that I promised. He knows I will keep my promise now because it’s ruined my red, I can’t paint red anymore. I promised.
There’s a corner here, he says it can be my new corner, and the other says I need to stop hiding in corners. Says I’m free and it’s over, but I say he’s cra-zy, just like the other tells me to say and when they both smile, I want to paint orange and yellow and bright.
I’m cold; I shake. Walls of space. Blanket and corner and someone gives me an animal but it doesn’t move or breathe. I say it’s dead and throw it back at them. The woman, she picks it up and brings it back, to my new corner, and smiles. It’s a toy, she says, but I don’t know toys. I know paint, and empty boxes, and sunrise and sunset that showed me purple flight and orange and yellow, and promises to stop painting red, but she takes my hand and puts it on soft. Brown. It’s better than purple flight and it’s mine.
“Will she recover?”
“Give her time, Doc – she’s just a kid. But that place…”
“Bad, Carson, take every horrific sanatorium story and dump it into that place. I’m never going to sleep the same again, and seeing how sleep is fairly rare for me to come by as it is…”
“Speaking of which, about the two of you, Teyla tells me they pumped enough drugs in the both of you that you barely recognized her. Let’s hear it, then, how are you feeling, honestly?”
“Tired, Carson, unbelievably tired.”
“Exhausted. If you don’t mind, I’m off to sleep for a week. Drug free.”
I want to stay, with the people, with the ship and the corner and the dead toys. I like it here. Maybe Doctor Hu was the one that was bad, the one that did horrible things. The blankets they gave me are soft, and a pillow and my corner here is just as solid as it was there. Two walls and a point and if I push, it won’t give. My sunrise and sunset are here, and I won’t paint red. I promised.
Author: kodiak_bear
Word Count: 1,100 +
Rating: R, implied
Summary: I want to see his paint but he tells me to look, then makes a thing out of my paper that I can only color purple, so I don’t like it much anyway, but when it flies – it flies. I only wish I could make purple flight again.
AN: Thanks Tazmy for the fast beta!
I love red. Red blankets, red walls, red ceilings. Doctor Hu says it’s because I killed my family, but I think it’s just ‘cause red is alive. I love alive. Doctor says I need to stop having red things, so I hoard them. I stuff ‘em under my mattress and I paint it on my body.
The new man, he says he likes red, too. Likes blue, green, red and all the colors in between. I told him that’s cheatin’. Pick one, I says, and he says he can’t. Says blue is for the skies he flies through and green’s for the lands he flies over. Says red’s for roses and flowers for girls sweet like me, and that he thinks Doctor lies about what I’ve done. That I’m not even from here anyway and my only crime was being caught, that this planet’s full of sadistic bastards.
I’m not sure bastards is something I know of, but I like his way more than the Doctor’s.
Funny thing is, I’m not sure when he was brought in. I had painted my body more than I should, and got a little sick, body and head, but Doctor says I’m sick anyway and just had them hold me down and sew me back up. I don’t like being sewn back up, ‘cause then I can’t paint anymore. It hurts to make paint.
He’s red, to me. He’s alive. He doesn’t belong.
I want to see his paint but he tells me to look, then makes a thing out of my paper that I can only color purple, so I don’t like it much anyway, but when it flies – it flies. I only wish I could make purple flight again.
They got mad at him then, came in and snatched my purple flight, and took my only friend. I painted a lot of red that night.
Time fluttered. Stuttered. Went and by, then he was back and I was back, and I wasn’t really sure of either.
I love to paint. Pretty colors, pretty people. He’s pretty. I’m always alone, so he bugs me, ‘cause no one else here wants to talk to him, either, but I don’t care. He likes my paintings, likes the pretty circles I draw.
“What is that?”
“Hole in me…hole in time. Hole in space and people. It’s a hole. There’s so many holes.”
Pokes holes, the brush makes them, I see them, dream them and want them. Big holes. Sometimes I think they’ll swallow me up. But I like red, and the holes are blue, so maybe they’ll never catch me.
“You don’t belong here.”
“I’m here.”
“No, you’re not. This…it isn’t you. It’s this place, they lie, you came from another city, another place. I’m here as a favor, to help the leader of that place. He’s your father, and misses you very much.”
Pretty man with the purple flight. Tongue of lies, says Doctor Hu, and he gets punished and locked in the box. The box of nothing. Empty, quiet, nothing. He goes and another one comes.
“Tall skinny man, brown hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in years, I seem to have misplaced him.”
One is sunrise, the other is sunset. I want both to say with me so I promise to stop painting red. I color green and purple and the sunrise is let free. His red has paled but he smiles at the sunset.
“They sent you in after me?”
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Colonel. I’m proficient in jail breaking.”
“Since when?”
“Since…now.”
Machines in his hand, machine. Ugly and dead, no color, no trust. I tell my sunrise and sunset to get it away from me and I run. It was all my fault, see, Doctor is right – I’m everything he says, death and hurt, worry and pain, and I watch them take my strength away.
Days in the box, days where I paint again and the red isn’t the same, because I’d promised. I made a promise.
A new lady arrives, she’s not red, or pale. She finds her men sitting with me in the corner. It’s mine, two walls and a point, and nothing can break it, my corner. I pushed once to try. I know. I thought she’d be mad, but she says a big ship is taking us away and there’s people to help me. Fix me. I’m broken?
I’m here; I’m there. People are here. So much noise and not enough color. My corner is gone, my box, my red, red. He says it’s okay, he tells them to leave me alone, that I promised. He knows I will keep my promise now because it’s ruined my red, I can’t paint red anymore. I promised.
There’s a corner here, he says it can be my new corner, and the other says I need to stop hiding in corners. Says I’m free and it’s over, but I say he’s cra-zy, just like the other tells me to say and when they both smile, I want to paint orange and yellow and bright.
I’m cold; I shake. Walls of space. Blanket and corner and someone gives me an animal but it doesn’t move or breathe. I say it’s dead and throw it back at them. The woman, she picks it up and brings it back, to my new corner, and smiles. It’s a toy, she says, but I don’t know toys. I know paint, and empty boxes, and sunrise and sunset that showed me purple flight and orange and yellow, and promises to stop painting red, but she takes my hand and puts it on soft. Brown. It’s better than purple flight and it’s mine.
“Will she recover?”
“Give her time, Doc – she’s just a kid. But that place…”
“Bad, Carson, take every horrific sanatorium story and dump it into that place. I’m never going to sleep the same again, and seeing how sleep is fairly rare for me to come by as it is…”
“Speaking of which, about the two of you, Teyla tells me they pumped enough drugs in the both of you that you barely recognized her. Let’s hear it, then, how are you feeling, honestly?”
“Tired, Carson, unbelievably tired.”
“Exhausted. If you don’t mind, I’m off to sleep for a week. Drug free.”
I want to stay, with the people, with the ship and the corner and the dead toys. I like it here. Maybe Doctor Hu was the one that was bad, the one that did horrible things. The blankets they gave me are soft, and a pillow and my corner here is just as solid as it was there. Two walls and a point and if I push, it won’t give. My sunrise and sunset are here, and I won’t paint red. I promised.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 03:27 am (UTC)That RULED.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 03:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 04:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-06-16 04:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 04:13 am (UTC)*coughs*
Writing yet?
:)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 04:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 04:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-06-16 02:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 03:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-16 04:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-06-16 07:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-17 12:26 am (UTC)"my sunrise and my sunset"
I like it...
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-17 02:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-03 05:38 pm (UTC)A very interesting POV to write from and well executed.
I liked the idea of the two of them as Sunrise and Sunset as well.