Work Text:
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Here We Go Again
byme
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Summary: The guys are sucked into a whole different plane of existence.
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Jim opened his eyes, quickly slamming them shut. Oh. God. Not again. He squinted. Yep. It was a jungle. Rather, it was The Jungle, the Blue Jungle of his spirit dreams. Again. Damn. Double damn. Triple, quadruple damn.
He sat up, took a deep breath.
"Arrggghh!"
Face red, he jumped up, barreling through the forest like a runaway freight train.
"Incacha!" he bellowed as he splashed across a stream.
He came to a clearing and spied the temple. "Jaguar!" he roared leaping up the steps and inside the building.
He stopped when he was deep in the temple. It was empty. Completely empty. Even the water troughs were dry. He stalked back outside, stopping in the doorway and cocking his head. There were no sounds. He glanced back inside. Why hadn't his spirit-self stopped him from entering the temple, it always had before. He stretched out his sight. There was nothing moving, not even the leaves on the trees. He sniffed. No odors. He leaned against the side of temple and immediately pulled away. Where he had expected rough stone and moss, he felt only a flat and very smooth surface. It felt and looked unreal, almost one dimensional as if it was a picture fastened to a cardboard backing. He was sure it hadn't been that way when he had climbed the steps.
Great. He huffed out a disgusted breath. Damn again. Now what.
He suddenly swiveled his head. A narrow path had opened up where no path had been before. He blinked, staring at it where it meandered into the jungle and out of sight. He licked his lips: he knew it was meant for him. The leaves on the bushes and plants lining the path were many shades of green and there were brightly colored flowers everywhere. Green leaves, not blue.
His feet were reluctant to move. They felt glued to the spot, cemented in place. That innocent looking path was more frightening than a dozen terrorists armed to the teeth and coming at him with murder in their eyes. He took a deep breath, letting it out explosively before slowly descending the temple steps.
At the start of the path he stopped again, peering down it, trying to sense -- what? Danger? Something. He glanced back; the temple and even the entire clearing looked flat, one dimensional, fading into the trees even as he looked. Taking a breath, he stepped onto the path and found his ears immediately assaulted by birdsong. Birds of all kinds and sizes chirped and twittered -- sang and called -- hooted and screamed. He started walking. There were more sounds in the undergrowth as animals of all kinds went about their business. He ducked when a large, colorful butterfly, or maybe it was a moth, fluttered in front of him. He saw ants and other insects everywhere. A lizard skittered by. A snake twined itself around a tree branch. He caught glimpses of animals of all sizes and kinds in among the trees. He smelled animals, flowers, plants, damp earth, even the air. Wow. His hand trailed against some leaves and he smiled; their fuzziness tickled. He could taste the scent of wild fruits and onions and tubers; they made his stomach rumble with longing. He walked faster, huffing a little as he climbed a steep hill, using convenient boulders and small trees to pull himself up. At the crest of the rise he looked over into another world.
A broad valley lay before him with snowcapped mountains in the far distance. He tasted the heady odor of pine in the air. He started down the rocky slope, walking for hours until he came to a meadow dotted with stands of trees, snarls of bushes and huge boulders, and carpeted in wildflowers and tall grass. He continued across the valley until he came to stream where he knelt to drink of the pure, cold, glacier runoff.
When he stood, movement caught his eye and he spied several bears disappearing into the forest. He looked around and another herd of walking, grunting carpets came into view: buffalo. Real North American buffalo. Hundreds of them. He took a breath. Of course. He was not in the jungle any more. Movement on a nearby boulder caught his eye and he grinned: a prairie dog, or was it a pika? Too late, it was gone too fast for him to be certain. Shaking his head, he continued on.
He was headed somewhere, he didn't know where, but he figured the sooner he got there, the sooner he'd find out why he was here. He spied other animals as he trudged along, predators and herbivores, singly, in pairs or groups, sometimes whole herds. Most of the animals ignored him. Some of them stared at him. A few took aggressive steps toward him before letting him pass on by when he went no closer to them. Nothing like feeling like an intruder and a curiosity to a bunch of animals. It made him feel like such a freak.
Step up. Step up. See the only human left in existence. Laugh at his awkward two-legged gait.
He shook his head. He wondered if zoo animals felt the same way when they were stared at, trapped as they were in exhibits for the pleasure of stupid human animals, most of whom would not have lasted five minutes in their world. He snorted; he was getting as fanciful as a certain long-haired anthropologist cum guide of his acquaintance.
Just then he spied movement off in the distance under a grouping of large trees. Hm. It was a bison. A really big bison. He stopped and stared. Actually, it was an abnormally large bison, its head disappearing high among the tree branches. Didn't giant bison exist during the time of the mega-fauna, fifteen thousand years or so ago? But surely they weren't *that* big. Something was moving near the bison's feet. Jim's sight arrowed in on the something, bringing it up close and into sharp focus. Inhaling sharply, he started running.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. He ran faster, tripping over rocks, his own feet, whatever was in his way, helped by the downhill slope. He fell, tumbling several yards, getting bruised and scraped along the way. He was immediately up and running again.
"Nooooo!" Jim screamed, caroming off a boulder, ducking around trees and straight at the pair as Blair stood with his arms outstretched to the huge beast that pawed angrily at the ground, snorting at him. It lowered its impressive head toward the anthropologist's chest. Visions of Blair crushed to a sticky paste beneath huge, stamping hooves ran through Jim's head.
Bison startled, snorting in displeasure as Jim bore down on him.
Jim suddenly found himself being hurled forcibly sideways, rolling over and over on rough ground, tangled up with something large, furry and well muscled. He came to rest on his back, Jaguar sitting on his chest, digging sharp claws into tender places and snarling hot, moist displeasure in Jim's face. Jim's eyes widened as sharp teeth came closer to his throat. He glanced sideways to see Blair communing peaceably with the huge animal in front of him, even touching it.
With a final snort and a pointed glare in Jim's direction, the enormous Bison wheeled around and headed off for parts unknown. Blair looked after it for a few moments before he turned and headed in Jim's direction.
"You almost blew it, man," he said conversationally as he leaned over to stare down at Jim.
"I almost blew it?" Jim gasped out. Who was it who had a large cat sitting on him?
"It took me days and days to get him to talk with me." Blair straightened and turned away.
"I--" He pushed against the animal using him as a body pillow. "Sandburg!" he yelled.
"Talk to the hand, Jim." Blair waved at him as he sat cross-legged with his back against a large tree.
"A little help here!" Jim was making no headway pushing against the cat, which seemed to be getting heavier by the minute as he dug his claws in deeper, a most satisfied look on his face.
"Apologize." Blair said, still not looking at him. He began feeding sticks into a small fire until it blazed merrily away. He put a pot of water on the fire to heat. Blair's spirit brother walked up and lay down, curling up next to him and heaving out a wolfish sigh of satisfaction.
"Apologize!" Jim grunted, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut before glaring at the sky again. "All right. I'm sorry I almost killed myself running to your rescue.
"Now get this thing off me!"
"Not to me," Blair replied, exasperated, his attention still on the fire.
Jim thumped his head on the ground and frowned up at the smug-looking cat. "I apologize," he gritted out between his teeth.
The cat growled in dissatisfaction, settling his weight more firmly on Jim's chest and baring his teeth.
"What!" Jim gasped. "What now?"
Blair glanced over his shoulder. "Not to him, either," he said, stirring pinches of something into a cup of hot water he had dipped from the pot.
"But--. Then--." Jim sputtered. "Oh, no, not--.
"You've got to be kidding!"
"You need to be both polite and sincere." Blair continued stirring the contents of the cup.
"Oh. My. God!" Jim wailed, thumping his head on the ground a few more times.
"Stop throwing a hissy before you give yourself a concussion." Blair set the cup to the side to cool, putting four dressed and spitted rabbits over the fire to cook.
"An over-grown cow. He wants me to apologize to an over-grown cow."
"Bison are not cows.
"And your apology has a time limit, Jim," Blair said, poking around in the ashes under the fire and adding more wood to the blaze.
"All right, all right." He huffed a breath. "I ... I apologize to you, Great Bison, for interrupting your-your conversation with my friend. I didn't understand what was happening and thought he was in danger. Please forgive me."
Nothing happened.
"Well?" he asked Blair.
"I dunno, Jim, ask your jaguar brother." Blair rotated the rabbits so they wouldn't burn.
Jim looked up at the smug cat. "Is that all right?" he asked. Jaguar made a show of licking his chops, then slowly got off Jim's chest and meandered toward the fire where he lay down next to Wolf. After Jim got his breath back, he made his careful way upright, taking inventory as he gained his feet. He had bumps, bruises, scratches, several deep puncture wounds that oozed blood, his knee ached where he'd twisted it, and his ribs were bruised, but not, thank goodness, broken -- he hoped. He made limping progress to Blair's tree, flopping next to him to lean back against the trunk and close his eyes. He was exhausted.
"Drink this."
"Mm?" Jim opened one eye. Blair waved the cup in his face. Jim took it, sniffing the contents and making a face.
"Drink it, Jim." Blair turned the rabbits again. "It's medicine."
"Smells like week old gym socks."
"Tastes worse," Blair smirked. "It's for your injuries. And your energy level. You'll need it." He shook his head when Jim just stared at him. "Trust me."
Jim glared at Blair for that remark before taking a big breath and holding it, then downing the concoction in two gulps. "Eck!" He made a face.
"Told you." Blair dug a small pot and a rag out of his backpack. "You should start to feel better in a few minutes.
"Take your shirt off."
"What?"
"Jim. Take off your shirt so I can clean and medicate your wounds. Or do you want to get an infection?" He opened the pot. "Your jeans, too," he said. "I want to look at that knee."
Blair helped him with his clothes, using his jacket as a pillow for Jim's head. He was both thorough and impersonal, cleaning Jim's injuries and spreading a thick salve over them, binding the worst ones with the bandages he took from his backpack and wrapping the injured knee. When he was done, he washed his hands in water poured from a canteen and put his supplies back in his backpack. He stood, picked up the backpack and made his way over to a neat, two man tent. He stored the backpack inside and came back out carrying a bundle.
"Here." He held out a clean shirt and pants.
"Thanks, Chief." Jim put the clothing on with a little help from Blair. Then he lay back against the tree with a sigh.
Blair grinned at him, then checked the food. With a little grunt he picked up a bag of corn flour, making tortillas on a clean rock that was setting close to the fire. "Dinner's almost ready," he said. He filled four plates with a cooked rabbit each, a leaf-covered tuber he dug from the ashes in the fire pit and several tortillas. Then he handed out the plates. He placed one each in front of Wolf, Jaguar and Jim, keeping his own in his lap.
"Eat, Jim." Blair waved a tortilla at him before taking a bite.
Jim held his plate in one hand but could not seem to shake himself from his fascinated staring at the two spirit animals where they had morphed into their human forms to eat. Jaguar was Jim's twin but dressed in the camouflage clothes Jim had worn in the jungle. Wolf was Blair as he must have looked at sixteen, wearing wide legged jeans. a tie-dyed shirt with a peace symbol on the front and a long, fringed leather vest. They ate with hungry efficiency, crunching down bones and all and paying absolutely no attention to Jim.
Jim looked down at his own meal, taking a bite of his rabbit and a sip of tea. "This is pretty good, Chief," he said around his mouthful.
"Thanks," Blair replied, giving him a half smile in return.
They ate in silence after that, finishing as the sunlight faded away. Blair threw the bones of the rabbits to the two spirit animals, who had the appearance of animals once again, and banked the fire.
"You want some help," Blair asked, gesturing to the tent.
"Aren't we gonna...." He made a helpless gesture. "You know...."
"I think you've done enough for today just getting here, man. Time for a rest." He turned and made his way to the tent, Jim following behind, listening to the siren call of his sleeping bag.
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Jim woke in his own bed, the first streaks of morning just lighting the sky. He lay and stared at the pink and orange clouds through the skylight until he heard Blair quietly stirring downstairs as he started the coffee brewing before heading into the bathroom. Damn, that was some dream. He sighed and started to sit up, catching his breath when his stiffened muscles protested and yesterday's injuries made themselves known.
Shit.
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End
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Notes: I have absolutely no reason to write this piece. It just jumped out and smacked me upside the head, so I ran with it.
Disclaimer: The net didn't work. I don't want to try a pit trap; might hurt somebody.
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Begun: June 09, 2022
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