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[JMM] 12.5.3 - Lose something important
Feb. 13th, 2009 03:20 pm[ooc: This was my, "WTF, the writers are being illogical, and that wouldn't happen" moment, of how, if they were going to insist on 3x06 "Dying of the Light" that this is how it should've gone instead. Because the way it happened made no logical sense. So, there, writers! Uh, possibly spoilery for that ep except AU ending?]
The man in the bed hooked up to the machines that were keeping him alive, though barely, was possibly the last person Adam Monroe expected to see. He stared, shock spreading across his face.
"I heard you were dead..." Glancing back at the doctor and then at the young man who'd brought him here, then back at Arthur, Adam still tried to piece it together. It wasn't hard to guess what Arthur wanted, looking at him there. His blood, obviously, to cure him from whatever had done this to him, to get him up off the bed and then...he must be the one behind the stealing of the formula. Whatever. Adam hardly cared, but it was interesting to consider that Arthur and Angela were pitted against each other.
Then Arthur's thoughts were in his head, dark and twisting inside of him, and for the first time in centuries, Adam knew real fear. "No..." He tried to back away, but the young man, impossibly strong, stopped him, dragging him forward and forcing him to kneel as Arthur reached for him. "Don't do this...!"
But he was doing it, his cold hands tight on Adam's, and he could feel energy pulling out of him, painful almost as it slid along his nerves and filled the man across from him. He struggled, but there was nothing he could do, no escape, and then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. The young man released him, and he slumped slightly, staring up in horror as Arthur pulled the tube from his throat and sat up in the bed, casting a slight smirk at Adam.
"Ah, it feels good to breathe again."
"What have you done?"
"You know exactly what I've done..."
"But why...? I would have given you whatever blood you needed..."
"Very accommodating of you, Adam, but I'd rather be in charge of my own survival this time. But, thank you. For the thought. And the immortality. Knox will show you out. I'm sure you're eager to get a taste of freedom after all these years...consider it my thank you gift."
Adam pushed to his feet, staring at Arthur, trying not to let the horror he felt, the bits of himself that he felt were missing overwhelm him. "How could you do this to me?"
"It's nothing personal. You just had something I wanted." Arthur turned to go, then paused at the door, to glance back over his shoulder. "Oh, Adam...if you see Angela, do tell her I send my love, would you?"
He was gone, and Adam sagged slightly, leaning against the bedpost. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and drawing breath was nigh unto impossible, but Knox's fingers curled around his arm, pulling him back toward the door.
"I can take you back where I found you, if you want," he offered, with an air of indifference.
Numbness was spreading--was it shock, he wondered?--as Adam forced his feet to move, following him. Rage would follow, he was sure. And then a need for vengeance, to right this. But right now, he couldn't feel anything at all, but fear.
"It doesn't matter," he said. For the first time in three centuries, mortality was staring him in the face. "I'm a dead man anyway."
The man in the bed hooked up to the machines that were keeping him alive, though barely, was possibly the last person Adam Monroe expected to see. He stared, shock spreading across his face.
"I heard you were dead..." Glancing back at the doctor and then at the young man who'd brought him here, then back at Arthur, Adam still tried to piece it together. It wasn't hard to guess what Arthur wanted, looking at him there. His blood, obviously, to cure him from whatever had done this to him, to get him up off the bed and then...he must be the one behind the stealing of the formula. Whatever. Adam hardly cared, but it was interesting to consider that Arthur and Angela were pitted against each other.
Then Arthur's thoughts were in his head, dark and twisting inside of him, and for the first time in centuries, Adam knew real fear. "No..." He tried to back away, but the young man, impossibly strong, stopped him, dragging him forward and forcing him to kneel as Arthur reached for him. "Don't do this...!"
But he was doing it, his cold hands tight on Adam's, and he could feel energy pulling out of him, painful almost as it slid along his nerves and filled the man across from him. He struggled, but there was nothing he could do, no escape, and then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. The young man released him, and he slumped slightly, staring up in horror as Arthur pulled the tube from his throat and sat up in the bed, casting a slight smirk at Adam.
"Ah, it feels good to breathe again."
"What have you done?"
"You know exactly what I've done..."
"But why...? I would have given you whatever blood you needed..."
"Very accommodating of you, Adam, but I'd rather be in charge of my own survival this time. But, thank you. For the thought. And the immortality. Knox will show you out. I'm sure you're eager to get a taste of freedom after all these years...consider it my thank you gift."
Adam pushed to his feet, staring at Arthur, trying not to let the horror he felt, the bits of himself that he felt were missing overwhelm him. "How could you do this to me?"
"It's nothing personal. You just had something I wanted." Arthur turned to go, then paused at the door, to glance back over his shoulder. "Oh, Adam...if you see Angela, do tell her I send my love, would you?"
He was gone, and Adam sagged slightly, leaning against the bedpost. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and drawing breath was nigh unto impossible, but Knox's fingers curled around his arm, pulling him back toward the door.
"I can take you back where I found you, if you want," he offered, with an air of indifference.
Numbness was spreading--was it shock, he wondered?--as Adam forced his feet to move, following him. Rage would follow, he was sure. And then a need for vengeance, to right this. But right now, he couldn't feel anything at all, but fear.
"It doesn't matter," he said. For the first time in three centuries, mortality was staring him in the face. "I'm a dead man anyway."
