Omega soap who is pining so hard for his LT that he refuses to take a knot. He knows it's not safe for him, knows that the fever will eventually get to him. But he knows what he wants, and he's foolish and stubborn. A MacTavish till the very end. (1/41) MDNI
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He can *deal* with this.
And yet, his body has other ideas. (2/41)
He grabs an apple from the basket, tells himself he just needs something to eat, that he'll go back to his room and sleep. (4/41)
dotting his vision. He hears shouts and yells, footsteps rushing up behind him, but John is already falling, tray of food tipping to the ground, the floor rushing up to greet him. (5/41)
Instead he's enveloped in a pleasant coolness, Soap whining at the contact against his skin, the comforting smell of dirt and grass and grit.
The comforting smell of only *one* person in the world.
"*Simon*."
He hears that lovely dark rumble, (6/41)