Uncovering Secrets of the Past
Apr. 26th, 2007 04:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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crossing_lostrpWho: John Crichton
Where: The bunker, bedrooms
When: Early evening/night, Day 28, about the same time as Dreaming the Dreams of Others
Invited: Dean, Sam, OPEN
Status: Incomplete
John had made his way slowly back toward the bunker, walking in a state of quiet shock. He had investigated the wreckage that he and Aeryn had crashed onto this island on, and he hadn't really found much. Except for one thing.
It was starting to get dark, the sun sitting low on the horizon casting long shadows through the tall trees and thick underbrush. He walked back toward the bunker on legs he couldn't feel, his heart beating hard in his chest. He needed to tell Aeryn about what he'd found, needed to show her ... but not now. He still needed to try and process it himself.
He made his way quietly back into the bunker, taking extra care to make his way quietly back to the room he was sharing with Dean and Sam. He didn't want Aeryn to see him, didn't want her to start questioning him about what he'd found. He was grateful that she hadn't gone with him, hadn't been there when he'd found what he'd found.
He pushed open the bedroom door and poked his head in, he didn't see any sign of the brothers and he made his way into the room with a small, grateful sigh. He pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and tossed it down onto his cot, sitting with his back against the wall. He drew his legs up and shifted, pulling the small, singed photograph out from the pocket of his leather pants. He held it, staring at it, staring at the dark eyes that reminded him of Aeryn, at the nose that reminded him of his own.
Where: The bunker, bedrooms
When: Early evening/night, Day 28, about the same time as Dreaming the Dreams of Others
Invited: Dean, Sam, OPEN
Status: Incomplete
John had made his way slowly back toward the bunker, walking in a state of quiet shock. He had investigated the wreckage that he and Aeryn had crashed onto this island on, and he hadn't really found much. Except for one thing.
It was starting to get dark, the sun sitting low on the horizon casting long shadows through the tall trees and thick underbrush. He walked back toward the bunker on legs he couldn't feel, his heart beating hard in his chest. He needed to tell Aeryn about what he'd found, needed to show her ... but not now. He still needed to try and process it himself.
He made his way quietly back into the bunker, taking extra care to make his way quietly back to the room he was sharing with Dean and Sam. He didn't want Aeryn to see him, didn't want her to start questioning him about what he'd found. He was grateful that she hadn't gone with him, hadn't been there when he'd found what he'd found.
He pushed open the bedroom door and poked his head in, he didn't see any sign of the brothers and he made his way into the room with a small, grateful sigh. He pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and tossed it down onto his cot, sitting with his back against the wall. He drew his legs up and shifted, pulling the small, singed photograph out from the pocket of his leather pants. He held it, staring at it, staring at the dark eyes that reminded him of Aeryn, at the nose that reminded him of his own.
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