Fic: John/Dorian, Dorian keeping secrets
Title: Mystery Man
Pairing and / or characters: John/Dorian
Rating: Teen
Note: For the 20-minute challenge for almosthumantv on livejournal.
(Written for the prompt: flashback).
Detective John Kennex knew that a mystery isn’t really solved until you know the why.
John knew that Dorian had been looking into his own origins, ever since Vaughn had left breadcrumbs suggesting that there was more than anyone knew to the synthetic soul.
It had taken a long time, but eventually John had figured out that Vaughn had implanted 21 years of human memories into all of Dorian’s model, then repressed the memories while leaving the cognitive-emotional effects. That was why Dorian had memories of being a child. Had memories of fear, love, anger, despair.
The memories had been taken via an experimental procedure that Vaughn had run on some psychiatric patients, after misrepresenting the procedure as a new treatment of course. The patients generally went downhill after.
John wasn’t surprised to find that Vaughn was shady as all hell.
But he was surprised to find traces that showed that every classified file he found about this issue had been previously accessed by Dorian.
A week ago.
Dorian had learned all of this a week ago and hadn’t wanted to tell John. And John didn’t know why.
Thus, still a mystery.
He broached the issue with great subtlety one evening.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about your memories?” John said, right after they finished dinner.
“And here I thought we were going to make out on your couch.”
John crossed his arms.
Dorian frowned. “It’s a hard thing to learn. I spent my whole life thinking that my synthetic soul is this beautiful thing. It’s the opposite.” He looked down at the table.
“What are you talking about?” John said softly.
“You found out how they made it, right?” he asked, voice tight. “Vaughn committed… horrible violations of ethics. He made me by destroying the minds of innocent victims.”
John paused. “Yeah. You know how I got here? A hundred thousand generations of human beings fighting tooth and claw to survive, and who knows how many of them were murderers. That’s what life is. Shit and more shit and trying to catch a breath of air amid all that shit.”
Dorian gave a wry smile. “You certainly have a poetic way about you.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
Dorian reached out and gripped John’s hand. “I would have.”
John paused. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dorian said, and leaned in, slow, for a kiss. When they parted, he added, “And I’m glad you demanded total openness and honesty. It was the right thing to do.”
“Glad you think so,” John said.
“And I’ll definitely remember it next time you won’t tell me what you’re thinking.”
“… I really don’t like you.”
Dorian grinned. “You really do.”
Pairing and / or characters: John/Dorian
Rating: Teen
Note: For the 20-minute challenge for almosthumantv on livejournal.
(Written for the prompt: flashback).
Detective John Kennex knew that a mystery isn’t really solved until you know the why.
John knew that Dorian had been looking into his own origins, ever since Vaughn had left breadcrumbs suggesting that there was more than anyone knew to the synthetic soul.
It had taken a long time, but eventually John had figured out that Vaughn had implanted 21 years of human memories into all of Dorian’s model, then repressed the memories while leaving the cognitive-emotional effects. That was why Dorian had memories of being a child. Had memories of fear, love, anger, despair.
The memories had been taken via an experimental procedure that Vaughn had run on some psychiatric patients, after misrepresenting the procedure as a new treatment of course. The patients generally went downhill after.
John wasn’t surprised to find that Vaughn was shady as all hell.
But he was surprised to find traces that showed that every classified file he found about this issue had been previously accessed by Dorian.
A week ago.
Dorian had learned all of this a week ago and hadn’t wanted to tell John. And John didn’t know why.
Thus, still a mystery.
He broached the issue with great subtlety one evening.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about your memories?” John said, right after they finished dinner.
“And here I thought we were going to make out on your couch.”
John crossed his arms.
Dorian frowned. “It’s a hard thing to learn. I spent my whole life thinking that my synthetic soul is this beautiful thing. It’s the opposite.” He looked down at the table.
“What are you talking about?” John said softly.
“You found out how they made it, right?” he asked, voice tight. “Vaughn committed… horrible violations of ethics. He made me by destroying the minds of innocent victims.”
John paused. “Yeah. You know how I got here? A hundred thousand generations of human beings fighting tooth and claw to survive, and who knows how many of them were murderers. That’s what life is. Shit and more shit and trying to catch a breath of air amid all that shit.”
Dorian gave a wry smile. “You certainly have a poetic way about you.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
Dorian reached out and gripped John’s hand. “I would have.”
John paused. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dorian said, and leaned in, slow, for a kiss. When they parted, he added, “And I’m glad you demanded total openness and honesty. It was the right thing to do.”
“Glad you think so,” John said.
“And I’ll definitely remember it next time you won’t tell me what you’re thinking.”
“… I really don’t like you.”
Dorian grinned. “You really do.”