Day 30: West Rooftop

[the_head_doctor]

The sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly, though all aspects of the good weather didn't fit the Head Doctor's current mood. His arms were crossed and his face was creased into a scowl; his eyes were sharp and although he wore his usual brown suit and tie, both were wrinkled as if he'd slept in them. His hair, usually combed and slicked

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[mister_radio]

What could Jack say? He'd had a busy night, and he'd needed a nap. Martin could wait. Martin was the one who wanted this little tete'a'tete, after all.

Jack strolled out from behind one of the roof's many large vents, cigarette dangling from his lips. He too was dressed in the same clothes as he had been wearing when last seen, a dark sweater and faded jeans. His own hair had that just-woken-up-look, and a fine layer of stubble coated his lower jaw.

There was no rest for the wicked.

Jack paused a moment, just looking at the other man. Tsk, tsk, time had not been kind. His expression was guarded, unreadable as he took in Martin wholly and completely. And then he grinned, an expression with little mirth to it.

"Been waiting long, Marty?"

[the_head_doctor]

And there he was, trying to make a dramatic appearance, trying so very hard to be the image of nonchalance. The very sight of him made the Head Doctor sick, and his eyes narrowed as he appraised his former colleague.

"It's been long, Alec," the Head Doctor returned. His voice was low, cold, and though he was taking obvious efforts to hide just how rattled the recent turn of events had left him, the fist clenched at his side let on just how furious he really was. Dr. Doyle was still living the lie of a new-age hippie freak, though that was entirely predictable. After all, it had been his self-righteousness and weakness towards outside opinion that had gotten them into this mess. A rebel he wasn't; a follower he was.

Dr. Landel paused, then smiled in a way that was wholly humorless.

"Perhaps you can tell me in detail how these futile pranks stroke your blinded ego."

[mister_radio]

"Oh Marty, Marty, Marty." Jack sighed and shook his head. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? And here I thought we could have a civil chat. You just live to disappoint me, don't you?" He took a long haul on his cigarette and shoved his other hand into his pocket, looking out over the lands beyond the institute.

How long had it been, really? Since they'd stood together, talked together, regarded one another as living beings? Without the cloak and dagger routine, and without the veil of soundwaves to shield them...

God, it wasn't like he'd thought it would be.

"You know this was more than a prank," he finally said, his tone serious. "And you know it wasn't futile. I'm gaining ground on you. So what are we gonna do?"

[the_head_doctor]

The Head Doctor's eyes stayed fixed on the radio jockey's every movement, trying to anticipate whatever underhanded trick he might try to pull. Dr. Landel wasn't going to fall for anything, and he most certainly wasn't going to let the deluded man's words intimidate him.

"Ground? Gaining?" The Head Doctor laughed, shaking his head at his old partner's foolishness. Did he seriously think a small blackout was signaling a turn of events? Was he really saying he had a chance in hell of disrupting the Institute's routine after this day?

"My, my, Alec, you're far more foolish than I even imagined." The doctor crossed his arms and smirked. "I, for one, am not going to do anything. There's nothing to do besides stop your ridiculous charade."

[mister_radio]

"Let's cut the shit." Jack shrugged, meeting Martin's gaze with one of his own that was almost imploring. "Drop the bullshit for once, Martin. You're not making any progress. You're not amounting to anything. And yes, I'm gaining ground. And I'm just going to keep on doing it until you've got nothing left." He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, looking away from the other man for a moment.

"You have nothing but their fear. You aren't going to break them. You aren't going to manage anything, and if you keep on like this I'm going to keep coming. I will come against you and come against you and I won't stop and you know that I won't. So we can either keep up this elaborate, painful nighttime dance of ours, or we can end it." He glanced at Marin, moving to stand closer to him.

"I want to believe you're not so far gone that you can't come back. Stop this insanity, Martin. It's gone too far, and too long! You have to know this. You have to realize it. Martin... come on. We can both walk away from this way."

[the_head_doctor]

Landel watched as his old comrade approached with empty appeals to frivolous sentimentality. If anything, Alec's words were only making him angrier, more irrational, more likely to do something stupid to defend his name and his cause. The Head Doctor didn't like doing stupid things, but on the other hand, he didn't like being talked to like some petulant child either.

The dear Dr. Doyle was still trying to play nice, trying to seem the good guy in a sea of evil. Landel's face stayed strangely stony, and it was only the huge grudge he held against the man that kept him from being saddened at just how much his old friend had changed.

"Me, too far gone?" He echoed quietly, his words oozing a mix of frustration and hatred. "Who's the one trying to bring down the system here, Alec? Who's the one who gave up on this project, on the very survival of the human race? You know as well as I do that my prisoners are no more like us than the monsters that prowl the halls, the monsters that you helped create

[mister_radio]

"Do you really think," Jack asked, not flinching away from Martin's touch, "that it's still all just about that?" He shook his head and barked a humorless, almost sad laugh

[the_head_doctor]

Doyle was right and Landel hated him for it. Yes, they'd indeed been more than friends, were still more even now, and the fact that Alec would even have the gall to bring that up after everything he'd done made the Head Doctor's grip on his shoulder tighten even further. They'd been partners in a shared ideal, friends whose bond allowed them to press through hardships and see a bigger picture. Now, Alec had lost that, had lost a greater purpose to radical ideas and so-called heroism.

He kept on speaking and Landel kept on listening, his anger mounting and his disgust showing through on his features. How dare Alec play the good man, how dare he take the higher moral ground even now? He was the one who had sabotaged what they had worked for their whole lives to accomplish, what they'd both poured their souls into and what they had sought to make a reality

[mister_radio]

"Maybe I will be," Jack muttered, his voice tired and almost empty.

This was why he'd held off so long. This was why he had never faced Martin before without their walls and veils and protection between them. He leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes and feeling a swell of old emotions rising up within him.

"Maybe we all deserve it." And maybe they did. He and Martin, at least. They were the ones with blood on their hands. Both of them, as guilty as the other. But Jack, he wanted to make up for what he'd done. And maybe, somewhere inside, Martin did to.

But he'd come here for a reason. To end this, one way or another. To finally lay to rest this twisted mess they'd made. He was tired of fighting and struggling and the thoughts that stole his sleep. He'd be merciful - out of affection and times long past, it was the least he could do.

He rested his head on Martin's shoulder, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"I am sorry. I really am."

[the_head_doctor]

And then, when Doyle could no longer see his face, Landel's eyes darkened as a wide smirk slowly spread across his features.

"I'm sorry too, Alec," he murmured in little more than a whisper as one of his arms dropped and crept to his inner jacket pocket. "So very... very sorry."

His fist clenched at the fabric on Alec's back. Sunlight glinted off a sliver of metal for a split second before the Head Doctor's hand jerked forward and twisted, burying the blade in the other man's chest.

[mister_radio]

Fuck

[the_head_doctor]

The Head Doctor reveled in the look on Alec's face, the look of anger, of disbelief, of utter despair. This was why he'd allowed him fairly free reign, why he had continued distributing the radios among the patients in an attempt to give his old friend a very false sense of security

[mister_radio]

Jack coughed, his body wracked with the force of it. Gouts of blood issued forth from his mouth. All he could feel now was pain, the exquisite pain that blossomed in his chest. It filled his senses. This was, he mused in a strange, calm place in his mind, what drowning must feel like. He lay there, eyes closed, his cigarette perched perilously between his unmoving fingers, his sweater torn and stained with that thick, bright blood that came from the heart.

But he opened his eyes, meeting Martin's with a cold, angry focus. He wasn't dead yet. Oh, he was nearly there, and he knew it; even he wasn't so foolish to think he could heal here and now. And he'd ensured that, hadn't he? By weakening Martin, he'd weakened himself, and sealed his own fate. But he wasn't dead yet.

"You...forgot one thing...Martin..." he was struggling to speak, blood filling his lungs and throat and mouth as his heart tried desperately to keep him among the living.

[the_head_doctor]

"Oh?" The Head Doctor asked as he finally put on a smirk, crouching down next to his adversary. "And what might that be?"

[mister_radio]

There. So very, very perfect. Another cough, another shake of his body, another spray of blood from between his lips. The edges of his vision were beginning to blacken. But still he held on. He had one last thing to do.

There should have been clouds. Storm clouds and thunder above, not that picture perfect blue sky that now seemed to mock him. This wasn't fitting. This wasn't right. It wasn't...poetic.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't give it a properly poetic twist.

He smiled, blood stained lips curving up as he flexed his weak fingers, laughing in Martin's face in the deafening silence of his own mind.

"You forgot...that I never...give up!"

It took all his remaining strength to make his body cooperate. His arm came up, quickly, feeling as though he were moving through water. His cigarette was clenched tightly between his fingers and with a wet, rattling exhalation he plunged the burning tip into Martin's eye with all the force he had left in him.

[the_head_doctor]

The scream that the Head Doctor let out was louder than anything he'd ever broadcasted on the intercom, any laugh of lunacy or shout of superiority that had ever rung through the halls of the Institute. He fell back onto his side, clutching his face, and the first thing that ran through his head after the initial wave of pain was, How could I be so careless?!

"YOU...!" He growled out through his agony, one hand held over his injured eye as the other glared murder at Doyle. He crawled forward, barely thinking, barely rationalizing his actions as he leaned over the other man, his hand groping for the slick hilt of the dagger in Alec's chest.

"I'll kill you... kill you!" The Head Doctor's face contorted into a strange mix of a grimace and an unhinged grin as he pulled out the dagger and began to stab over and over again. "You think you can win, but you can't! I'm coming on on top, Alec! ME! Don't you GET IT?"