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no_true_pairTitle: Suffer a Witch
Fandoms: England World & Green Men
Pairing/Characters: Daniel da Silva & Sam Caldwell
Rating: T
Content Notes: 300 words. Attempted murder by medieval mob.
Prompt: Daniel & Sam, water
Daniel had realised that he probably wouldn’t survive long enough to make it back to his own time. Aside from not knowing how he’d been transported three centuries into the past — he had identified what had done it, but the key had disintegrated the instant he’d landed somewhere in Ireland, so deducing how it had sent him here and, more important, how to escape back to twentieth-century London, was a task outside the scope of his abilities.
At any rate, no matter where he was, his looks and his books were going to get him in hot water — or freezing water, in this particular case. Daniel choked and gagged and tried to calm down enough to float instead of sink in the pond the mob had thrown him in. It would have been challenging even with full freedom of his limbs and without onlookers baying for his blood, but hogtied and exhausted — he’d been up all night as it was, consulting a German tome to help a youth he’d stopped from jumping —
Daniel blinked. He’d blacked out, and now he was in a bunk in an exceedingly small room. He had a distinct sense of being underground — his throat automatically constricted at the thought — but then a young man with a cheerful face but weary eyes put his arms around him, simply but firmly holding him until panic relinquished its hold on his lungs.
Daniel still didn’t trust himself to speak, so he raised an eyebrow.
The man’s accent reminded Daniel of home. “We found you in the water. You don’t have to say what put you there, if you don’t want to, or can’t.” Sam’s fingertip brushed a rope burn on Daniel’s wrist, and his lips twisted. “Something tells me it’s not far off from what caught my uncles.”
Fandoms: England World & Green Men
Pairing/Characters: Daniel da Silva & Sam Caldwell
Rating: T
Content Notes: 300 words. Attempted murder by medieval mob.
Prompt: Daniel & Sam, water
Daniel had realised that he probably wouldn’t survive long enough to make it back to his own time. Aside from not knowing how he’d been transported three centuries into the past — he had identified what had done it, but the key had disintegrated the instant he’d landed somewhere in Ireland, so deducing how it had sent him here and, more important, how to escape back to twentieth-century London, was a task outside the scope of his abilities.
At any rate, no matter where he was, his looks and his books were going to get him in hot water — or freezing water, in this particular case. Daniel choked and gagged and tried to calm down enough to float instead of sink in the pond the mob had thrown him in. It would have been challenging even with full freedom of his limbs and without onlookers baying for his blood, but hogtied and exhausted — he’d been up all night as it was, consulting a German tome to help a youth he’d stopped from jumping —
Daniel blinked. He’d blacked out, and now he was in a bunk in an exceedingly small room. He had a distinct sense of being underground — his throat automatically constricted at the thought — but then a young man with a cheerful face but weary eyes put his arms around him, simply but firmly holding him until panic relinquished its hold on his lungs.
Daniel still didn’t trust himself to speak, so he raised an eyebrow.
The man’s accent reminded Daniel of home. “We found you in the water. You don’t have to say what put you there, if you don’t want to, or can’t.” Sam’s fingertip brushed a rope burn on Daniel’s wrist, and his lips twisted. “Something tells me it’s not far off from what caught my uncles.”