Taking Care
by Speedo
Author's Notes: Something short and, well...short.
Rated: E
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Fox or 1013 and I never will.
Spoilers: You have to know the show to get this. Duh.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
The walls are sweating cold. It smells of salt, iron, rust. Old death, long-decayed, and the promise of future pain. The ship sings with it.
A film of oil floats on the surface of the water, a greasy rainbow, and the dull lapping of the tide echoes thickly in his head. Memories of voices "Ours...ours...ours..."
Maybe this time -- but no; hope was a trap. A beautiful lie, just like her. Just as empty. Useful, sometimes, and dangerous.
The metal echoes under his boots; metal stairs, metal walls. Hollow-sounding and impenetrable. If not for the bone-deep dampness he could be in North Dakota. Again. Better there than other places he dreams of.
Better not to think at all. Remember nothing. Feel nothing. Do what needs to be done.
Easy.
Easy. Maybe this time he won't be tortured in the name of someone else's truth. He can't afford another pint of blood in exchange for his next breath. He's already frozen; he has nothing to spare.
"I've brought you water. Can you hear me? If you can hear me, I need you to nod your head."
He'd been blond as a boy. He'd been a boy once. Hadn't he? The water runs over the pale, upturned face; gutters in the stitches.
"I'm going to take good care of you."
The End
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
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