video | counting bodies like sheep

[adaptiveimmunities]

[Shaun is bundled up for the outdoors, and he's looking slightly shook.]

So.

Uh.

I found Jonathan Strange.

He's definitely dead. I think I'm going to need some help recovering him. Maybe... only come if you have a strong stomach. He's not in one piece.

[Video ends.]

Comments

[adaptiveimmunities]

Sounds fun.

[His tone indicates that he does not, in fact, believe this will be fun, but he does go to grab the net.]

Sure wish he'd listened to you guys.

[bestsir]

As do I.

[ He heaves a sigh and climbs down the side. It isn't until he actually bends to pick up the ... remains ... that he's suddenly overwhelmed by nausea; he's hit with an intense mental image of Billy Gibson's emaciated body, stretched out on a makeshift table... ]

[ If Shaun looks over the side, he'll see Harry on his knees on the ice, retching. ]

[adaptiveimmunities]

[Shaun does look down, and he does see Harry retching.]

Shit, dude. Are you okay? Hey--we can switch. I go down there. You handle the net.

[bestsir]

[ Harry waves a hand and forces himself to straighten up. Fortunately there wasn't that much in his stomach to make a mess; he perfunctorily kicks some of the top layer of ice and snow over what's there. ]

No—no, forgive me, I will be all right. Here—lower the net, if you please.

[ He bends to pick up a limb and is immediately put in mind of Sir John's leg, pathetic and small in the coffin. At least that memory hurts less than that of Gibson. ]

[adaptiveimmunities]

Okay... Let me know if you need to tap out, though. I can handle it.

[He'll want to drown himself in soap afterward, but he'll do it. He lowers the net as requested.]

[bestsir]

[ Harry grits his teeth and manages to get about half of what's down there into the net. Shaun is going to have to take it up and repeat the process for what's left. ]

[ He forces himself to not think about it all too hard. Focusing on anatomical terminology helps: tibia, fibula, femur. Diaphragm, lumbar vertebrae, scapula. Anything to keep from thinking of these parts as Jonathan Strange. Or worse: as meat. ]

[adaptiveimmunities]

[Shaun pulls the net up and grimaces when he sees the remains of Mr. Strange. He swears quietly under his breath as he empties the contents of the net carefully onto the deck. He's dealt with bodies before. Walking, moaning bodies. But those bodies are usually in one piece.]

Damn it, Strange.

[He sighs and straightens again.]

Ready for round two?

[bestsir]

Yes, let's get this bloody business finished, then.

[adaptiveimmunities]

Okay.

[He lowers the net for the rest of Strange. Goodsir is right. The sooner they finish here, the better.]

[bestsir]

[ Radius, ulna, humerus. Scapula, clavicle. Trapezius, deltoid, suprapinatus. Harry heaves the last bit into the net and climbs up. He resists the urge to strip off his gloves immediately. ]

Has the Captain given orders on where to take him? The hold?

[adaptiveimmunities]

I think he's on his way with some canvas or something, but one of 'been there, done that' dream people said he'd probably be more comfortable waking up in his cabin. Since... he's apparently going to be waking up.

[He grimaces.]

[bestsir]

[ A short, sharp, completely humourless laugh. ]

Waking. Of course.

[adaptiveimmunities]

[Yes, these are two men who are totally fine with everything that's going on right now.]

Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction.

[bestsir]

Do you suppose we ought to arrange the remains in order?

[ It's said so dryly, so deadpan, that it has to be a joke, of a sort that Harry would have never made before. ]

[adaptiveimmunities]

[Shaun, meanwhile, is completely on board with this kind of gallows humor.]

It does seem like the polite thing to do. I'd hate for him to wake up and not know his elbow from his knee.