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#shout out doorkeay
mpetrohero · 4 months
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Okay but why does no one talk about the INCREDIBLE SHIP NAMES the tma fandom has? LIKE. TERMINAL VELOCITY??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME??
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number 5 for doorkeay :)
5. Running into the other’s open arms
It all fell apart so fast.
One minute, he, Gerry and Gertrude were going over their final plans, reviewing the layout of the abandoned factory and agreeing to return to the main workroom after an hour. The next moment, the floor beneath his feet simply wasn't there, and Michael could hear their shouts of alarm over his own screaming as he fell into the hole.
It was worse than a nightmare, because he knew that it was deliberate, that whoever or whatever had caused the collapse had done so on purpose, and wanted him dead or buried. Michael could barely see a thing, and his torch had broken during the fall, so he was left only with the impossible instincts granted to him by the Eye. And even that wasn't enough to show him the way out- he knew where he wanted to go, but it wasn't a straight shot there. The underground tunnels twisted and turned and he was fairly certain they were changing on him too, forcing him to double back and climb up and down, squeezing through terrifyingly small gaps and crawl across crevasses that dropped far out of sight. The wrong slip, and he'd never make it out.
Not to mention, what he was trying to get back to wasn't a fixed point. It was Gerry, and he was on the move as well, presumably trying to find him too. Michael wanted to yell at him to stay still, but he was obviously in danger up there. A massive explosion shook the ceiling over his head, keeping him moving, frantically trying to escape from the cavern and get back to the surface. He had to get back to Gerry.
Whatever Gerry and Gertrude had done- probably the explosion- seemed to have worked. The tunnels stopped changing, they stopped trying to consume him and stop him from getting out. It was still a struggle, the worst, most exhausting effort of his life, and by the time Michael was standing on solid ground he never wanted wanted to be underground again, ever, in his life.
Michael stumbled around the factory ruins, feeling his legs shake just with the effort of taking a few steps. Gerry was there somewhere, he knew he was there, it was like a lodestar, his true north, dragging him straight to his partner, over every obstacle in his path. Gerry had drawn him out of the depths, and he wanted nothing more than to find him, collapse in his arms and be held safe by him.
Unfortunately, he found Gertrude first. She looked no worse for wear, aside from a layer of dust that made her already-silver hair look whiter. She was crouched next to a body, a tape recorder hissing next to her, and she barely spared him a glance when he staggered up, just nodding when she saw he was upright and moving.
"I wondered if you would make it out of there yourself."
"Your concern is so touching," Michael snapped dryly. Gertrude rolled her eyes and reached out to pat his arm, like some part of her was actually glad he'd crawled out of the rubble.
"There was more than enough concern for you. I didn't feel like I needed to contribute." She nodded towards a partially collapsed wall, and Michael knew Gerry was behind it, making his way towards him. He careened towards it, heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt. The urge to throw himself into his arms was the only thing that was keeping him moving, tripping over loose bits of concrete and debris. He had to get to Gerry.
"Gerry?" he called desperately.
Gerry lurched around the wall, eyes widening as he gasped in relief. "Oh God, Michael," he choked out, charging forward with his arms reaching out to him. Michael opened his arms and braced himself, but even so, he nearly fell down with the force that Gerry slammed into him. Gerry was gasping against his sternum, arms so tight around him that his ribs creaked, but Michael was holding him back just as tightly, crushing him to his chest. He wanted to collapse down onto Gerry like the building had around them, but he felt like if he did he wouldn't get back up.
That honestly didn't sound so bad.
"You're okay," Gerry whispered, over and over. "You're okay. You're okay. Oh my god. You're okay." He sounded like he was about to cry, his fingers carding through Michael's curls and picking out splinters as they went. "Tell me you're okay, please."
"I'm okay," Michael promised him, ducking his head down to kiss the top of his head. Gerry seemed to be mostly unscathed, but very emotional. A lump grew in Michael's throat, as it finally sunk in that he could have died, and left Gerry all alone, or he might have lost his Gerry and that really struck him, the next words nearly choking him. "I'm okay. I'm okay, love, I'm okay."
Gerry sobbed, leaning heavily on him as they both crumbled to their knees. "I was so worried," he whimpered, rubbing his face into his chest. "God, Michael, I was so scared-"
"I knew I'd come back to you," Michael assured him. "I kept thinking it, the whole yime, I couldn't think of anything else." It was Gerry, his Gerry, that had urged him on, and being back with him again was overwhelming. He never wanted to be apart.
Gerry abruptly pulled back, face scrunching up before he sneezed, violently. "You're very dusty," he grumbled with a little chuckle, wiping his face. Michael helped him, swiping away his tears and running eyeliner.
"Then you better take me home and clean me up," he murmured, keeping a close hold of Gerry as they moved towards the exit. Gertrude was already on her way out, and he didn't want to stay there a second longer than he had to. It was time to get out.
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