Flying Lorises {a modern day leviathan fic}

part xviii

 written by maddie, beta read by cat

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The concert doesn’t start for another ten minutes, but the place is packed. It’s an open air concert, and Deryn can smell the smoke rising off the tips of burning cigarettes, from the people taking their last hits before the concert really begins. Mr. Volger and Mr. Klopp have stayed behind in the car, preferring the peace and quiet of the car to the Flying Lorises’ ear-bursting music.

Deryn grabs Alek’s hand and pulls him headlong into the crowd, determined to get as close to the stage as possible. “Come on!” she shouts. “Closer!”

Alek tugs on Bovril’s makeshift leash that he’s fashioned out of one of Mr. Volger’s old ties, who is not going to be too pleased when he finds out. 

Pushing through the crowd is a struggle; Alek is of average height, and Deryn is taller still, but it hardly makes a difference compared to some of the others in this mass. Deryn excuses herself more times than she can count. They’ve barely made any headway when the stage lights beam on one by one and roll around the quickly darkening sky. They all cheer.

“Keep moving!” Deryn has to cup her hands around her mouth and speak into Alek’s ear to be heard. “Just far enough to see Conan!”

As if on cue, the lead singer’s voice booms through the open stadium. “Are you ready?” he yells into the mic, and screams affirm yes. “Are you really ready?” Deryn can just barely see the band over the sea of bobbing heads as the guitarist lets loose a string of notes, prompting even more yelling. This is her favorite song! She’s more determined to get up front.

Bovril weaves through people’s legs, jumping to avoid getting stepped on. Alek does the same, still being lead by his hand. Deryn squeezes between a tall man with dreadlocks and a black woman when Alek’s hand goes suddenly slack and she turns back just in time to see the woman’s backpack strike him in the head, and he crumples like a ragdoll. She doesn’t hear it, but Bovril yelps and leaps back. The woman doesn’t even notice.

“Alek!” Deryn crouches to the ground, in the small circle of pavement that the people have given them. It’s not any sort of help; for god’s sake, there’s an unconscious boy here; but it’s as much kindness as she will be getting from them. “Alek!”