Chapter Text
Chris was tired of running. It wasn’t like he was the sort of guy who skipped leg day, but even someone at the peak of human fitness (if he did say so himself) would start getting tired after having to run for their life for the third time that day. He was also mildly concerned that if he kept exercising his legs like this, they’d get too defined and make his delts look weak in comparison; maybe he’d do some chin ups on a branch, next time he got a break from all the running. Man, he missed the gym room that Vij had helped him set up when he first moved into his dad’s place.
The thought was another painful reminder of the life Chris had been brutally ripped away from. Chris knew it was a level of ironic that put Alanis Morisette to shame; that only a few weeks ago he had been the one trying to leave his life behind for another dimension of his own free will. Even after all of that, if you had told the Chris of a few weeks ago that the mental image of Adrian grinning toothily at him while they unboxed a brand-new chest press machine that the weirdo had somehow sourced (Chris knew better than to ask where Vij got literally anything) would make something wet burn painfully at the back of his eyes, Chris would have laughed in your face. It was crazy what a week in an alternate dimension with no one to talk to but the dinosaurs who were actively trying to eat you could do to a guy.
The dinosaurs were why he was running – again. Chris knew they probably weren’t the same dinosaurs that had walked his earth however many years ago, but he was no paleontologist and the massive, scaly, roaring creatures that wouldn’t stop chasing him bore a strong resemblance to the ones he remembered from Jurassic Park (not that Chris had paid especially close attention to the giant lizards, when there had been a beautiful woman in tiny shorts and a shirtless Jeff Goldblum to ogle, instead). The beast that was after him right now was smaller than a lot of the others Chris had seen, it was more like those creepy little fuckers with the talons that cornered the kids in the kitchen, in the movie. Chris thought Adrian might have said they were called velociraptors, although he had also said they were called that because they could reach maximum velocity, so Chris thought maybe he should take Adrian’s animal facts with a grain of salt. Whatever it was called, the creature was fast; much faster than Chris.
For once, Chris was incredibly grateful for his unconventional childhood. Amongst other unsavory activities, Auggie Smith had been a great purveyor of big game hunting, and he had taught his sons from an early age how to go undetected in the forest. Although the velociraptor on his tail was faster than Chris, he had heard it coming long before it had seen him, and he had been able to get a good head start. Despite his size, Chris was able to tread quietly through the leaf litter, even at speed, and he was sure that the velociraptor wasn’t actively chasing him anymore.
Chris reached a shallow creek that cut through the trees, the same one he had been following for days. Another helpful lesson from his father – first, find water. Hunger is uncomfortable, but thirst kills. That lesson had probably saved his life, out here. The water was cold and looked clean, so Chris had been drinking from the stream (not that he had much of a choice, having been dumped in a field with nothing but the shirt on his back to fend for himself with), but he had yet to shit himself to death so he figured it must be relatively safe. Chris had also noticed pretty quickly that the dinosaurs seemed to fear water. He was pretty sure that was something these creatures didn’t have in common with Earth dinosaurs, but whatever the case, Chris was just glad to have something he could use against the relentless assholes.
A few hours after Rick Flag Sr had dumped Chris unceremoniously in a field and left him, presumably, to die, and he had gotten away from his first prehistoric pursuer, Chris had taken the time to whittle a big stick into something of a spear. It wasn’t much as far as weapons go (Chris thought wistfully of his custom Desert Eagle), but he had figured it was better than nothing. He had made do with a pencil in the Nazi dimension, after all. Unfortunately, when Chris had tried to use the home-brew weapon against one of the overgrown lizards, it had proved absolutely useless against it’s tough hide and had just angered the creature into taking a swipe at him that had made contact and left him with a nasty cut down the length of his bare forearm.
That was when Chris had toppled into the creek, landing with a splash that sent water flying in all directions. When the water made contact with the dinosaur, it hissed and spat angrily, before turning and running away. Chris had sat on his ass in the stream, mouth agape in shock. He had gotten himself out of a lot of bad scrapes, but a solo fight with no weapons against an angry interdimensional dinosaur had been bad odds, even for Peacemaker. Since then, Chris had made sure to stick to the water wherever he could. It kept him from dying of thirst, provided some level of protection from the dinosaurs and even allowed him to keep the gash in his forearm clean (well, as clean as he could manage when he was literally sleeping on dirt every night, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t infected – yet).
The one thing Chris hadn’t been able to do much about so far was food. It was getting to the point that he was thinking longingly of the times that Eagly would go hunting and bring a dead opossum back for Chris, insistently pushing the carcass towards him and squawking in indignation every time Chris refused to eat the offering. Not that Chris was craving roadkill, but damn, he was hungry. He would give his right arm for a protein bar, or even one of the weird salads Adebayo was always trying to feed him.
His stomach rumbled loudly, and Chris looked around wildly. He had stopped running and had been standing in the middle of the creek for the last few minutes, waiting out the velociraptor that had been chasing him. It had been quiet since he stopped running, and Chris was almost sure that the animal had continued in another direction. Since he couldn’t hear the creature anymore, Chris assumed it must be out of earshot, but he didn’t know how good the dinosaur’s hearing was compared to his, and the last thing he needed was for his stomach to give away his position and get him killed. After a few seconds of panic, his own heartbeat so loud in his ears it almost drowned out anything else, Chris was confident that the velociraptor had cleared off.
Letting out the breath he had been holding in a deep sigh, Chris let himself sink to his knees in the creek. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the voice of his former drill sergeant yelled at him about the dangers of wet boots and trench foot, but the weather in this dimension had been consistently warm so far, even at night. Every time Chris had used the creek for protection, he had taken his boots off for a few hours afterwards and everything – even the sturdy jeans he had unfortunately been wearing when he was kidnapped – had been fully dry within two hours. Chris wasn’t sure if this place was always warm, or if it was just summer here right now. The leaves had just been beginning to change colors back home in Evergreen, but Chris supposed it made sense that it could be a different season in a different dimension. Some dimensions probably didn’t even have seasons, added another voice that sounded like Adrian.
Chris shook his head and splashed some water on his face. He knew he had probably been a little bit crazy for a long time; a totally sane person doesn’t hallucinate their fucked up dead dad for months, or accidentally kill their parallel self then run away and try to take over his life and end up moving into a Nazi paradise. A totally sane person probably wouldn’t be friends with Vij, either. Or Harcourt. Or Economos, for that matter. A sane person would be friends with Ads, though; she was probably the only semi normal thing he had in his life. Chris shook his head again – his thoughts were getting away from him again. The point was, he had probably never been totally sane, but he was pretty sure he was losing his mind completely in this place.
His almost total inability to handle being alone for any length of time had been one of the many shortcomings that Auggie enjoyed belittling Chris about, and Chris was beginning to think his father was right. It had been a few months since Chris last hallucinated his dad, but he could hear the ghost of his father calling him a crybaby pissant and a weak-willed faggot as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing himself not to cry again. Chris had never enjoyed being alone with his thoughts; it was a wilderness in there, worse than the one he was literally stuck in right now, full of ‘mind scorpions’ (as Adrian called them).
God, he missed weed. And booze. And sex. Mostly, he missed the 11th Street Kids and Eagly. But he couldn’t think about them too much, or he really would start crying and then he’d attract the attention of another dinosaur and then he’d have to start the whole frustrating circle of running for his life all over again. He really didn’t want to have to run again today. Normally, Chris relished the burn of his muscles after a good gym session, but his legs were aching even more than his bad arm. Chris shook himself out his thoughts, slapped his cheeks as harshly as he could without making any noise, and set about taking care of his needs while he was near the water.
First, he washed his hands off as best he could, then cupped them and filled them with water, drinking deeply. Then, he removed the bandage he had managed to fashion out of a strip of his t-shirt. He washed the bandage, rinsing and squeezing it until it ran clear of blood, and he looked at the wound before he reapplied the wet fabric. It was deep, with jagged edges and it should have been stitched, but it wasn’t pussy and it didn’t smell bad. It was going to leave a nasty scar, but chicks dig scars. Chris got out of the water, removed his boots, jeans and socks and hung the clothing off a low branch on a nearby tree.
He knew he should probably find better shelter, but the creek was his best protection against the dinosaurs and Chris figured it was safer to try and get some rest near it, so if one of the asshole lizards tried to get the drop on him, he could protect himself and fight back quickly. He sat down and leaned his back against the same tree that had fashioned into a clothes horse and shut his eyes. The position was far from comfortable, and there were twigs digging into the bare skin of his thighs, but Chris was so exhausted that he quickly dropped off, his head dipping low onto his chest.
Chris wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but he was suddenly awoken by a slamming sound nearby. If he hadn’t been so sure that he was completely alone in this wilderness, he would have thought it sounded like someone slamming a door. As it was, Chris did not trust any sudden noises in this place, so he stood quickly and peeked out from behind his tree. What he saw almost made him regret looking.
Standing three feet away from Chris’s resting place was a familiar tall figure, bedecked from head to toe in red and blue, his red cape fluttering gently behind him.
“Jesus Christ,” groaned Chris, stepping out to face the newcomer.
“Oh, no, I’m Superman,” he replied, turning to face Chris and sticking out a hand in greeting, like an eager boy scout. “Nice to meet you. Where are we, exactly?”
Chris just lowered his head and let it smack into the tree in front of him with a thunk.