Hearing the voice behind him, Dane twisted around to see the masked god there once again, holding out that strange vial. Some how, it made perfect sense to him, that the vial was the fix to this whole thing. He extended his hand, reaching for it, when he heard the other voice behind him. One that was far more familiar. He glanced over his own shoulder to see Schuldig there.
His gaze slipped from one to the other as the talked. And as they did, he began to doubt the validity of that small vial. He drew his hand back to himself slowly, his eyes fixed on the German behind him. Lies? Everyone in his life lied to him, why would this be any different?
But Schuldig seemed to not want him to take it. And the redhead had taken him in, apparently knowing what he was.
Dane’s fingers curled into a tight fist, until his knuckles turned white.
At last he fixed his gaze on Dimitri, unable to summon that false courage he relied upon for his smarmy arrogance. “What would you ask me to do?” he asked, hesitantly.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Nicholai
Nicholai watched everything go from mild to violent in a matter of moments. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was impressed. Had the man really destroyed his own people? How had he not given into more evil impulses after such massive genocide without going mad? Or was he mad already? He was watching himself at the console, wasn’t he? No. Not himself. Almost himself, but not quite.
He didn’t want to just rip the Doctor out of the illusion as that could cause permanent damage. Unraveling it would draw too much attention from Dmitri. And the last thing he wanted was to have the illusion strengthened.
Casting about he found the face one someone that would help the Doctor, someone he hadn’t had such a tearful or painful goodbye with. Someone here on the island, even.
It wasn’t so much that Jack appeared in front of the Doctor but simply that they other would become aware of him. As if one of the Doctor’s own perception filters had been removed. Jack knelt beside him, a hand resting on his shoulder.
“Doctor,” he said, in a perfect mimicry of Jack’s voice, “Listen to me. Don’t feed into it. It’s not real.”
He didn’t want to just rip the Doctor out of the illusion as that could cause permanent damage. Unraveling it would draw too much attention from Dmitri. And the last thing he wanted was to have the illusion strengthened.
Casting about he found the face one someone that would help the Doctor, someone he hadn’t had such a tearful or painful goodbye with. Someone here on the island, even.
It wasn’t so much that Jack appeared in front of the Doctor but simply that they other would become aware of him. As if one of the Doctor’s own perception filters had been removed. Jack knelt beside him, a hand resting on his shoulder.
“Doctor,” he said, in a perfect mimicry of Jack’s voice, “Listen to me. Don’t feed into it. It’s not real.”
Crawford
Crawford pressed back against that super-heated hand, not out of any need for comfort but because he wanted to get away from the balding man before him and couldn’t get his body to do anything other than move backwards. Sideways was out of the question as it took far too much coordination to move his feet that way. Even as the fire tried to relight, those words feeding it, his terror was so deep it provided no more heat than a single candle in the depth of a frigid cave.
The Senator ran his hand gently over Michael’s shoulder, smiling down at the angel. A well practiced look that conveyed emotions the man did not feel. Warm, caring feelings. His gaze turned toward Crawford and immediately hardened. Stepping around Michael, he came closer to the larger redhead, knife in hand.
“You’ll never stop me,” he said, his tone even and smooth. “Everything you care about, I will be there to destroy. And I will do to him just as I did to your precious little brother.”
“No…” Crawford managed, sounding pathetic and weak.
“Perhaps, this time…” The Senator brought up the knife, running the blade along Crawford’s cheek with enough pressure to draw out a thin line of blood. “…I’ll just kill you to get you out of my way once and for all. Or, better yet—“ he moved the knife to the tender part of Crawford’s shoulder, just beside the joint. “I’ll cut the tendons in your arms and legs. Leave you unable to fight. Unable to run. Slowly bleeding to death while you’re forced to watch me—“
Crawford moved before he thought about doing so. In that freezing cold terror, the man had offered up the fuel he needed. That tiny spark roared to an inferno in the blink of an eye. His fist came up, flames licking up to his elbow; striking the Senator across the jaw with every bit of strength he’d been given.
He stood up straight, looking down at the man where he lay sprawled across the hallway floor, his coat spread around him like a pool of rancid oil.
“You’re NEVER going to touch him!” He was struggling to hold on to the strength, his voice trembling slightly.
The Senator ran his hand gently over Michael’s shoulder, smiling down at the angel. A well practiced look that conveyed emotions the man did not feel. Warm, caring feelings. His gaze turned toward Crawford and immediately hardened. Stepping around Michael, he came closer to the larger redhead, knife in hand.
“You’ll never stop me,” he said, his tone even and smooth. “Everything you care about, I will be there to destroy. And I will do to him just as I did to your precious little brother.”
“No…” Crawford managed, sounding pathetic and weak.
“Perhaps, this time…” The Senator brought up the knife, running the blade along Crawford’s cheek with enough pressure to draw out a thin line of blood. “…I’ll just kill you to get you out of my way once and for all. Or, better yet—“ he moved the knife to the tender part of Crawford’s shoulder, just beside the joint. “I’ll cut the tendons in your arms and legs. Leave you unable to fight. Unable to run. Slowly bleeding to death while you’re forced to watch me—“
Crawford moved before he thought about doing so. In that freezing cold terror, the man had offered up the fuel he needed. That tiny spark roared to an inferno in the blink of an eye. His fist came up, flames licking up to his elbow; striking the Senator across the jaw with every bit of strength he’d been given.
He stood up straight, looking down at the man where he lay sprawled across the hallway floor, his coat spread around him like a pool of rancid oil.
“You’re NEVER going to touch him!” He was struggling to hold on to the strength, his voice trembling slightly.
Jack
Jack took a step back with each one that was pulled forward. He shook his head, lips moving soundlessly as he tried to deny each accusation. All of them were supposed to be alive. He’d just seen the Doctor not long before. The Doctor had shot him. He wanted so badly to just speak to him. That’s how he got himself out of trouble—he talked his way out of it. But now, he couldn’t utter a word.
His back hit something solid and cold, like frozen metal. There was nothing visually different, just more blackness behind him. He pressed back against it, slowly sinking down to the darkness that served as the floor for this place. His eyes welled up, not quite spilling onto his cheeks yet.
His faces was tense with torment, wanting to ask each of them why—why were they there when they should be alive. Wanted to explain to them that he only did what had to be done. His head began to ache as the buried memories fought to reach the surface. The 456. Everything he’d done to stop them. Remembering it after the gods had buried it for him cut him more deeply than he thought possible.
How could he explain to them? He’d tried to save Ianto, but he should never have brought him into that building. He hadn’t wanted to sacrifice his grandson, but it was the only option to save millions of children across the world. He couldn’t go back for Gray after the explosion, anything that deep in the Hub was unreachable.
And the Doctor. How could he save—
He pressed his hands harder to his head. He didn’t want to find what sort of memories had been buried there. He didn’t want anymore.
Slowly, he lifted his head, staring at them all, silently pleading. He’d done all he could do. But how could he make it right being trapped in this place forever?
His back hit something solid and cold, like frozen metal. There was nothing visually different, just more blackness behind him. He pressed back against it, slowly sinking down to the darkness that served as the floor for this place. His eyes welled up, not quite spilling onto his cheeks yet.
His faces was tense with torment, wanting to ask each of them why—why were they there when they should be alive. Wanted to explain to them that he only did what had to be done. His head began to ache as the buried memories fought to reach the surface. The 456. Everything he’d done to stop them. Remembering it after the gods had buried it for him cut him more deeply than he thought possible.
How could he explain to them? He’d tried to save Ianto, but he should never have brought him into that building. He hadn’t wanted to sacrifice his grandson, but it was the only option to save millions of children across the world. He couldn’t go back for Gray after the explosion, anything that deep in the Hub was unreachable.
And the Doctor. How could he save—
He pressed his hands harder to his head. He didn’t want to find what sort of memories had been buried there. He didn’t want anymore.
Slowly, he lifted his head, staring at them all, silently pleading. He’d done all he could do. But how could he make it right being trapped in this place forever?
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Dane
Dane turned around, hearing the voice. Seeing such a small, strangely dressed person spouting such nonsense, he would have normally brushed them off as another crazy hippy or weird street performer demanding money. But given the circumstances, he hesitated. Each passing word seemed to draw the color from his face. And as it did, he felt his stomach clench tight.
There was something terribly off here. An entire city vanishing because they didn’t want to be around him? He wasn’t important enough for ALL of them to leave like that. But why else would this guy be saying that? He tried to come up with some reasoning against it. But every time he tried, it slipped from his fingers like a wet, wiggling fish.
And then, just like that, the man was gone, his last words ringing louder than anything in Dane’s ears.
“WAIT!” He called out, taking a few steps toward where the man had been. “HOW?!” He yelled into the wind. “How can you change it?! COME BACK!”
There was something terribly off here. An entire city vanishing because they didn’t want to be around him? He wasn’t important enough for ALL of them to leave like that. But why else would this guy be saying that? He tried to come up with some reasoning against it. But every time he tried, it slipped from his fingers like a wet, wiggling fish.
And then, just like that, the man was gone, his last words ringing louder than anything in Dane’s ears.
“WAIT!” He called out, taking a few steps toward where the man had been. “HOW?!” He yelled into the wind. “How can you change it?! COME BACK!”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)