[Fic] Watchword (Claire, Boyd) PG-13
Title: Watchword
Fandom: Dollhouse
Word count: 240
Characters: Claire Saunder, Boyd
Spoilers: Minor ones for Vows and Getting Closer, taking place somewhere in the time between the two.
Summery: Claire is not surprised by Boyd's words.
AN: Written for whedonland's word vomit challenge and is another experiment in monologues.
I know why you’re here, Mr. Langton. Time to check the broken doll. Go on. Say it. Make it convincing.
You promise? Do you swear that on your honor? You do. Of course. You don’t belong here, Mr. Langton. You are too good for the Dollhouse, to honorable.
I don’t need you to keep me safe. I’m already programmed the way Topher want me to be. There for the Actives whenever they need me, when the clients are done with them. Hand them suckers and clean their cuts and send them on their quiet little ways. Once, that was me. In the House with my thin shirt and bruised mouth and my wide stupid eyes. I don’t want to return to that, to cease to exist, even for a moment.
What if I don’t want to come back like exactly like this? I don’t want to come back the way he made me. Worse, I can’t stand the thought what he might do. Change me, play around with brain. I wouldn’t even know it. The not knowing is the worst part. The part I am most afraid of.
Do not tell me that! I am not Echo. Everything is not going to be alright. You’re here to do a job, Mr. Langton. Who am I to interfere? Nobody. No body, no soul, just an program running past it's use. So say it. Say it.
Yes, I would like a treatment now.
Fandom: Dollhouse
Word count: 240
Characters: Claire Saunder, Boyd
Spoilers: Minor ones for Vows and Getting Closer, taking place somewhere in the time between the two.
Summery: Claire is not surprised by Boyd's words.
AN: Written for whedonland's word vomit challenge and is another experiment in monologues.
I know why you’re here, Mr. Langton. Time to check the broken doll. Go on. Say it. Make it convincing.
You promise? Do you swear that on your honor? You do. Of course. You don’t belong here, Mr. Langton. You are too good for the Dollhouse, to honorable.
I don’t need you to keep me safe. I’m already programmed the way Topher want me to be. There for the Actives whenever they need me, when the clients are done with them. Hand them suckers and clean their cuts and send them on their quiet little ways. Once, that was me. In the House with my thin shirt and bruised mouth and my wide stupid eyes. I don’t want to return to that, to cease to exist, even for a moment.
What if I don’t want to come back like exactly like this? I don’t want to come back the way he made me. Worse, I can’t stand the thought what he might do. Change me, play around with brain. I wouldn’t even know it. The not knowing is the worst part. The part I am most afraid of.
Do not tell me that! I am not Echo. Everything is not going to be alright. You’re here to do a job, Mr. Langton. Who am I to interfere? Nobody. No body, no soul, just an program running past it's use. So say it. Say it.
Yes, I would like a treatment now.