Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Lawn Green #2 (lemonade)/Camo Green #10 (retreat)
Supplies and Styles: Bichrome
Word Count: 542
Rating: PGish
Warnings: None.
Summary: Dmitry and Peace have a little chat. Slightly edited version of meme fic. Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.


Dmitry lay on an ugly green plastic couch in a dark room, waiting for his head to stop swimming. Every so often, he would begin to drop off to sleep, and a pulse of feeling would echo through his head and right arm simultaneously and shock him back to consciousness. It felt insistent, like a little creature pulling on his sleeve- he couldn't manage to characterize it as an animal or anything less alien, despite the temptation to think of the damned thing as intelligent. He should've been frightened, but he was too tired. Maybe that was its angle. He swore incoherently at it in a strained whisper.

He was stuck in a police station, controlled by a bunch of random, heavily-armed weirdos, who he couldn't even hate since they'd let him sleep. Try to sleep. And because, now that he thought about it, they'd kind of saved his life and the beautiful man-meat he'd let stay over. When they got to this place, they'd been dragged into some kind of meeting, he'd started babbling, someone tried to take the sword, and he'd decked the guy before someone had seperated them and suggested he go lay down. At least, that was more or less what he remembered. He remembered a lot of things in the past twelve hours he wasn't sure were real, and didn't remember significant patches of time that had definitely passed. Like everything that had happened after he'd touched the sword.

He didn't want to sit in on their stupid apocalypse meeting anyway.

A knocking sound came from behind him; it took a second for him to connect the dots that knocking meant "person" and "requesting attention". He rolled over to look.

"Uhm, hope I didn't wake you up." The ma- Peace, Peace was at the door. He quirked one corner of his mouth into a sympathetic smile. "Just wanted to see if you were okay. The briefing or whatever is over, and I brought you a lemonade?"

"Lemonade?" Dmitry mumbled. Sleep was clearly beyond him, so he slid up into a sitting position.

Peace nodded and stepped into the room. "In a can, so, kind of? There's also bottled water, and there was soda but it's gone..." He glanced behind him, looking awkward, and shrugged. "But it's free, right?"

"Give." Dmitry stretched his hand out. Actually, a cold drink sounded great right about now. "Not so far out of college that I'm gonna turn down free stuff."

As Peace handed it over, Dmitry realized the other man's eyes were on the sword. Come to think of it, the sword seemed to be letting off a soft light. He turned so that his feet were off the couch and sat it leaning against one leg, gesturing for Peace to sit down.

"So who was that guy driving the van?"

"Uh... another werewolf." Peace looked a little embarrassed, though the red could have just been his hair. (Did that thought make sense?) He sat down beside Dmitry, sliding down in his seat a little. Clearly, they were both a little tired. "He found me somehow, and then I found you."

"Cool." Dmitry popped the can open. "Can he tell you more about how this works?"

Peace shrugged. "I hope so."