The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

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Becks

 

 

Shoot 'Em
Once more bored.  Resting and watching TV, wrote another short one for the fun of it.  Hope you enjoy.  Excuse my mistakes.  All mine, can't have ‘em, please just ignore them. 

“Scott!''

“Johnny?”

“SCOTT!”

“JOHNNY? Where the hell are you?”

“Will you stop stomping back and forth?”

“OK.  I can heard you, but brother for the life of me, I can't see you.”

“I'm over here!  Ouch.”

“Brother, just where exactly is… ouch?”

“Very fucking funny! Walk until I tell ya' to stop.”

“Fine.”

“OK…STOP!”

Scott looked around.  “I hate to tell you this Johnny, but I am not in a position to see you, yet.”

“I know that! Shit…  OK, look up Boston.”

‘What the heck is that?'   He squinted his eyes trying to focus on a small wiggling-worm like object protruding from the ceiling.

“Johnny… is that… your finger?”

“Boy, here I thought you were the educated one.  Yeah, it's my finger.”

Placing his hands on his waist and still squinting.  “Fine, I give.  How and what….   Never mind.  I am guessing you are in the attic.”

“Now what was the first clue, Harvard?”

“Being that I have a brother who is a smart-ass, I just might forget that he obviously might need my help.”

“OK, damn.  I am stuck up here.  Please… heck… can you please come up and help me out?”

“Hum…”

“I swear Boston…  “

“On my way little brother.”

Scott was trying to fathom what his little brother had gotten himself into, again.  The attic door was shut and next to the door were a bucket and an empty box with some rags in it.  ‘This can't be good.'

He walked in.  “Johnny?”

“Over here brother.”

There was a faint light coming from an area that had cluttered scattered all around.  “Johnny?”

“Down here.”

Scott looked and sure enough, there he was, Johnny, lying on the ground underneath a big heavy looking dresser-drawer chest.  “Ah, there you are.  Resting up while I do all the work.”

Johnny just scolded a frown. “Get this dam thing off me will ya'.”

Scott looked at the situation before trying to lift the large chest. He didn't want to create any more weight on his brother.  “Hold still Johnny.  I need to move this away so I can get in.  How the hell did you get yourself into this mess anyway?”

The young man relaxed his head back on the floor.  “I was chasing something that kept me awake all night.  Almost had ‘em, when I bumped into that crate and that caused a dominoes effect.  Only I was at the bottom of the stack!”

Scott lifted the chest up as he grunted between his teeth. “OK… can you… slide… out?”

“Yeah, hold it…  Ahhh, shit.  Look out. There it is!  I think it's a rat!”

Scott jumped at the announcement and lost his grip.  The chest fell back down.  The next sound was a loud-painful declaration.

“Uggh, shit!  SCOTT!”

“JOHNNY?”  He leaned in to look at his brother.  “I hurt you didn't I. Damn, I'll get you out hold on.”  He was now feeling guilty and tried to lift the chest once more when he suddenly saw something crawl out from under the chest and brush by his leg.  He immediately released his hold and jumped up on a crate, which was resting on the corner of the chest.  Once more he heard a loud declaration.

“WHAT THE FUCK, SCOTT?  You're suppose to be helping me out of here not killing me in the process!”  Johnny closed his eyes trying to control the pain he felt on his knee.  Breathing slowly and concentrating, he opened his eyes and looked at his brother. “Why'd you let go?”

“Again, my apologies brother, but it was huge and it… came up to me… the rat.  I hate rats Johnny.  I really hate rats.”  He hesitated and climbed off the crate.  Then he heard his brother grunt once more.

“Sorry, here let me try again.”  Scott looked around and then continued to lift the chest.  Johnny was successful in sliding out. 

Scott waited until his brother was clearly out of the way.  He slowly and carefully placed the chest back down and went to access any damage done to Johnny.  “Well, where are you hurt?”

“My knee, but I think I can stand.  Give me a hand.”

Johnny managed to put a little weight on his left leg regardless of the pain that shot up.  Scott just stood next to him for support.  The boys made their way to the door.  Scott moved some crates out of Johnny's way to give him a clear path.  Just as Johnny approached the door and reached for the doorknob, the door swung opened throwing him back to the floor.

He let out a screeching yelp as he landed on his ass.  Gathering his breath he scorned, “Seriously?”  He looked up and saw Teresa standing there.

“Ha, I knew I had heard some noises up here.  What are you two up to?  She walked in.

“I was saving my brother's life.”  Scott said proudly.

Johnny looked at him in disbelieve.  “Yeah, I was not injured when you started your heroic act, but I am now.”

“What?  Johnny you're hurt?”  She bent down to support his head up.

He adored her immediate attention. “Ah ‘resa, it's not bad…”

Teresa immediately grimaced when she saw a creature scurry across the floor behind Johnny's head.  She screamed, dropped his head, and jumped onto a crate, but slipped and landed on Johnny's… lap.

“Oooffff and Ow !”  

Scott held his hand over his mouth to stifle a chuckle, and then saw the furry perpetrator.  “Look, there it goes.”

Teresa yelled.  “Go after it!  Go after it!  Get it before it makes this place it's home!” She managed to get her entire body onto Johnny lap bouncing with anticipation and fear. Her hands were waving in front of her until she felt Johnny squirming beneath her.

“Hon, do you think you can help out and STOP BOUNCING ON MY…. Oh God, I feel my voice starting to change into a higher pitch .”  That last part was a bit higher in tone.

“Johnny?… Oh, I'm sorry.” She removed herself from his lap and helped him to sit on the crate.

Scott realized that if they didn't catch the rat, it would create more havoc in their attic, so he set out on his hunt, regardless of his fear.  Beating one rat is better than trying to catch a dozen.

Johnny and Teresa turned when they saw Scott rushing over to their side chasing ‘it'.  Teresa screamed and jumped on the crate besides Johnny.  He was caught by surprise and placed his hands down to stabilize himself, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his left hand.

“Mother of God, not again. TERESA YOU'RE ON MY HAND…   your heel… is digging… into it.  GET THE FUCK OFF!” 

She gave him a very distasteful glare.  “JOHNNY LANCER, there was no need for that language.  I didn't do it on purpose!”  She moved off and turned herself away from him.

He immediately brought his hand up to his mouth and mumbled, “Yes, it was… damn it, that hurt.”  He was almost whimpering.

Scott finally appeared from behind the mess and had something in his hands.  He walked up to Teresa with a silly smile on his face.  “Here Teresa.  I found our intruder.”

She hesitated until she noticed it was a small kitten. “Ah, poor baby. It's shaking with freight.  Johnny, look at it.  Isn't is just the cutest…”

Johnny's was too busy holding his hand up to his mouth in an attempt to relieve some of the pain.  He then noticed that Teresa and Scott started to walk away towards the door.  They were both in awe over the little scared kitten.  Johnny was dumbstruck as they left him there.  He just watched as they left and closed the door.

“Of all the… “  He stood up shook his painful hand and limped his way to the door.  Just as he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open and Johnny was once more one with the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~JML~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starting to stir, he could hear, “Johnny, Johnny, come on son.  Wake up. Sam's here.”

“Huh, what happened?”  He saw his father smiling at him. 

“You hit your head on the corner of a crate up in the attic.”  Murdoch turned to let Sam in for a better look.

Sam uncovered Johnny to look at his knee.  “I've already checked your head and I might add it is a thick one.”  He chuckled.

“Glad I can amuse you Sam.” Johnny closed his eyes, but managed a smile.  

“Sorry Johnny, but Scott told me the whole story and well, it was amusing.”  He covered him.  “No real damage done.  Just some swelling that cold compresses and some ointment can help, but no walking on it for a few days.  You should be fine.”  He glanced at his head.  “Also, keep an eye for any changes in your vision or severe headaches and don't tell us you're fine, got it?”

“Yeah Sam. I got it.”  Feeling a bit drowsy, he closed his eyes.

“Well you'll be groggy for a few hours.  It's expected, but we'll need to keep an eye on you and wake you up every two hours for the next twelve hours.”

Johnny just nodded very slowly, but then a sudden thought jerked him up. “Ow, won't be doing that again. Murdoch…?”

“What son?  Go to sleep.  Don't fight it.”  Murdoch sat next to him on the bed.

Johnny leaned back down on to his pillow and closed his eyes. “I need you to shoot…  ‘em.”  He sighed and leaned into the pillow.

Murdoch scrunched his chin against his chest. “Shoot who?” 

“Them… did this to me.”

“Who might that be?”

Even as he was starting to doze off he still managed to name the culprit of his dismay.  “Scott…  Tere…sa ….  Cat…”  He opened his eyes just a crack as he thought.  “and… the one who opened the door… second time… knocked me… out.”  He closed his eyes again.

Murdoch cleared his throat.  “Son, I am sorry.  That would be me, but it was an accident.  I swear.”  He placed his hand on Johnny's hand.

Johnny forced his eyes opened and attempted a Madrid stare, failing miserably, but managed a grunt. “Sam?”

“Right here son.  Are you in pain?”  Sam went to his side.

“Nope…” He exhaled.  “Get my gun Sam…  shoot ‘em…  all of ‘em.”  His stamina dwindled into a slumber.  “Plea…. se.”

 

~ end ~

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