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imaginesSometimes I don't believe myself, people. I kept telling Maja "OMG I TOTALLY SHIP X/Y!" and then not actually writing anything. WELL, NOW I HAVE. /0\
Summary: Just before team finals, Sasha's got some time to waste, so he wastes it by slipping off into the war zone in his head. There's no way he won't screw this up. [Spoiler-free, and so what if I did listen to some U2 while I wrote? :p]
Sasha's got some time before he has to walk out there with his team and do his thing. Sasha's got some time to waste, so he wastes it by slipping off into the war zone in his head, where he's out there in front of everyone, doing his routine for himself and for the U.S.A., fighting against all odds for maybe a medal or maybe fifth place, and then something goes wrong. Maybe his hand slips, maybe he overbalances, but either way he's done and it's over and it's awful. Sasha, sitting in a corner of the locker room, drops his head between his knees and folds into himself. There's no way he won't screw this up.
"Sasha. Sash, calm down, man," Jon says, crouching down in front of Sasha and putting his hands on Sasha's shoulders. "Get out of your mind, baby, come back here."
See, in Sasha's mind, he's seeing himself falling, failing, fucking it up. In Jon's mind, Sasha's probably winning the goddamn all-around gold, because Jon thinks just that much of his team. Jon thinks of everyone making the cuts, flying high, holding it together, sticking the landings, hands over hearts while they all belt out "The Star-Spangled Banner" on the podium.
Nevermind the all-around. Sasha's only here to kill the pommel horse or fail trying. Fail trying, comes the echo off the back of his mind. Skid, slip, slide, all the way into a slump that could last until you give up playing games with your body. Let a slump take you out harder and harsher than a snapped bone. Let it go. You've already lost, Alexander Artemev, so nevermind your family history, nevermind--
"I said calm down," Jon repeats, and now he wraps himself around Sasha like a blanket. No, like a shield, and Sasha's shoulders lose their tension automatically. Sasha's bad thoughts haven't got a chance against a Jon Horton hug. Jon puts his whole body into a hug, face buried in Sasha's neck, hands gripping Sasha's jacket, legs tangled up with Sasha's. He's a talented man, Jon is, and he can make whomever he's hugging feel like they're the only one in the world. He's making himself absolutely present for Sasha, right now in this panicked moment of moments.
Sasha calms down. He raises his head and looks over Jon's shoulders to the rest of his team. Justin's holding a handstand for seconds and seconds, in perfect concentration. Raj and Kevin are talking quietly as they stretch. No one's looking at Sasha in his corner or at Jon curled around him. He leans his forehead into Jon's shoulder and starts talking, soft, so no one hears. "You guys want a medal." (It's not a question.) "And I could ruin it for you."
"You don't talk like that," Jon says, equally soft, but still giving an order. Like Jon does. "Don't you get it? We've already made it--we're at the freaking Olympics! We just gotta do what we've been doing, and great things will happen. Don't you worry."
"I'm only here because Morgan--"
"No. It's 'cause you were meant to compete with us. Don't talk like that. You're one of us. I'd never give you up."
"Even if I fall off the pommel horse?"
"You say that like you think you're gonna fall off the pommel horse."
"I do think I'm going to--"
"Yeah, whatever. You're not going to, though. That's the point--none of us are going to fall. We're going to win this, baby. You ready? Don't say no."
"I'm ready," Sasha says, and he lets Jon grab his hand and pull him to his feet.
Summary: Just before team finals, Sasha's got some time to waste, so he wastes it by slipping off into the war zone in his head. There's no way he won't screw this up. [Spoiler-free, and so what if I did listen to some U2 while I wrote? :p]
Sasha's got some time before he has to walk out there with his team and do his thing. Sasha's got some time to waste, so he wastes it by slipping off into the war zone in his head, where he's out there in front of everyone, doing his routine for himself and for the U.S.A., fighting against all odds for maybe a medal or maybe fifth place, and then something goes wrong. Maybe his hand slips, maybe he overbalances, but either way he's done and it's over and it's awful. Sasha, sitting in a corner of the locker room, drops his head between his knees and folds into himself. There's no way he won't screw this up.
"Sasha. Sash, calm down, man," Jon says, crouching down in front of Sasha and putting his hands on Sasha's shoulders. "Get out of your mind, baby, come back here."
See, in Sasha's mind, he's seeing himself falling, failing, fucking it up. In Jon's mind, Sasha's probably winning the goddamn all-around gold, because Jon thinks just that much of his team. Jon thinks of everyone making the cuts, flying high, holding it together, sticking the landings, hands over hearts while they all belt out "The Star-Spangled Banner" on the podium.
Nevermind the all-around. Sasha's only here to kill the pommel horse or fail trying. Fail trying, comes the echo off the back of his mind. Skid, slip, slide, all the way into a slump that could last until you give up playing games with your body. Let a slump take you out harder and harsher than a snapped bone. Let it go. You've already lost, Alexander Artemev, so nevermind your family history, nevermind--
"I said calm down," Jon repeats, and now he wraps himself around Sasha like a blanket. No, like a shield, and Sasha's shoulders lose their tension automatically. Sasha's bad thoughts haven't got a chance against a Jon Horton hug. Jon puts his whole body into a hug, face buried in Sasha's neck, hands gripping Sasha's jacket, legs tangled up with Sasha's. He's a talented man, Jon is, and he can make whomever he's hugging feel like they're the only one in the world. He's making himself absolutely present for Sasha, right now in this panicked moment of moments.
Sasha calms down. He raises his head and looks over Jon's shoulders to the rest of his team. Justin's holding a handstand for seconds and seconds, in perfect concentration. Raj and Kevin are talking quietly as they stretch. No one's looking at Sasha in his corner or at Jon curled around him. He leans his forehead into Jon's shoulder and starts talking, soft, so no one hears. "You guys want a medal." (It's not a question.) "And I could ruin it for you."
"You don't talk like that," Jon says, equally soft, but still giving an order. Like Jon does. "Don't you get it? We've already made it--we're at the freaking Olympics! We just gotta do what we've been doing, and great things will happen. Don't you worry."
"I'm only here because Morgan--"
"No. It's 'cause you were meant to compete with us. Don't talk like that. You're one of us. I'd never give you up."
"Even if I fall off the pommel horse?"
"You say that like you think you're gonna fall off the pommel horse."
"I do think I'm going to--"
"Yeah, whatever. You're not going to, though. That's the point--none of us are going to fall. We're going to win this, baby. You ready? Don't say no."
"I'm ready," Sasha says, and he lets Jon grab his hand and pull him to his feet.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-19 04:34 am (UTC)I love that Sasha is all scared and uncertain (and utterly utterly adorable!) and that Jon fixes it with hugs! And then Sasha goes out and is utterly, utterly made of awesome. Oh, boys! ♥
This is totally how I picture them in my head, now.
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Date: 2008-08-19 12:57 pm (UTC)