[Ficlet] Imprint!verse
[ooc: This is unprompted. I'm not sure where it came from, but the idea has been bugging me for days. Whether I choose to go anywhere with this 'verse, I don't even know. But... the idea needed writing down.]
Considering what he does for a living, considering just what has been going on in his workplace of late, Topher has to admit he has been spectacularly slow on the uptake. The signs haven’t just been dangling in front of him, they’ve been smacking him around the face.
He’s been dreaming. Night after night, for the last week at least. He dreams of faces he doesn’t recognise, calling him by a name that isn’t his. He dreams of a place he has never been, and yet feels like home. He dreams of a fire, burning a life that isn’t his to the ground, and he wakes up sweat-drenched and sobbing.
He calls them nightmares, and goes to work. Sees Caroline come out again and again in Echo, sees Victor and Sierra and how they’re drawn together when that just shouldn’t happen.
They’re remembering their past lives.
He’s having nightmares.
He’s a genius. He’s supposed to be a genius. And yet it takes him so long to work it out. The words are half-formed on DeWitt’s lips when his face finally falls, realisation suddenly sinking in. “No!” He cries the word, again and again, as if it can save him. He knows who he is. He’s Topher Brink. He’s a genius neuroscientist. He works here. He was headhunted. He’s not...
“Hello, Topher. Are you ready for your treatment?”
His face falls into a blank happiness at once, the trigger as effective as ever. He follows her passively to his workstation, his chair, not once blinking an eyelid. “This is going to pinch a bit,” Ivy tells him, but that doesn’t matter. Adelle’s right there. He trusts her, with his life. It’ll all be okay. He closes his eyes...
“Hello, Charlie.”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“For a little while.”
“Shall I go now?”
“If you’d like.”
Considering what he does for a living, considering just what has been going on in his workplace of late, Topher has to admit he has been spectacularly slow on the uptake. The signs haven’t just been dangling in front of him, they’ve been smacking him around the face.
He’s been dreaming. Night after night, for the last week at least. He dreams of faces he doesn’t recognise, calling him by a name that isn’t his. He dreams of a place he has never been, and yet feels like home. He dreams of a fire, burning a life that isn’t his to the ground, and he wakes up sweat-drenched and sobbing.
He calls them nightmares, and goes to work. Sees Caroline come out again and again in Echo, sees Victor and Sierra and how they’re drawn together when that just shouldn’t happen.
They’re remembering their past lives.
He’s having nightmares.
He’s a genius. He’s supposed to be a genius. And yet it takes him so long to work it out. The words are half-formed on DeWitt’s lips when his face finally falls, realisation suddenly sinking in. “No!” He cries the word, again and again, as if it can save him. He knows who he is. He’s Topher Brink. He’s a genius neuroscientist. He works here. He was headhunted. He’s not...
“Hello, Topher. Are you ready for your treatment?”
His face falls into a blank happiness at once, the trigger as effective as ever. He follows her passively to his workstation, his chair, not once blinking an eyelid. “This is going to pinch a bit,” Ivy tells him, but that doesn’t matter. Adelle’s right there. He trusts her, with his life. It’ll all be okay. He closes his eyes...
“Hello, Charlie.”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“For a little while.”
“Shall I go now?”
“If you’d like.”