Being Human (US) fic: Walk of Shame (R, Gen, Coda-ish to 1x10)
Title: Walk of Shame
Author: krisomniac
Rating, warning, pairing: R for blood, guts, and innuendos. Gen, AidanandJosh, unless you really squint.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to Syfy, Jeremy Carver etc. Not me.
Word count: ~1200
Summary: Josh’s rescue comes, only Aidan knows that in too many ways, he’s already too late.
Author’s Note: Missing scene from 1x10, Dog Eat Dog. Basically, I just wanted to make things a little better? for Josh and Aidan.
Walk of Shame
A persistent boot against the small of his back drags Josh roughly awake. Consciousness wanders in slowly, swathed in the memories of a nightmare--not a nightmare, he realizes as he comes to. Something that happened. Something he did.
“Get up. You’re bleeding on my floor,” a hazy voice cuts through his thoughts, stings his too-sensitive ears. There’s a sound of squelching and something heavy being dragged along the cold concrete beside him.
Josh blearily opens his eyes.
The first thing he sees are the bars. That’s the moment he knows for sure that last night was real. Aidan gripping the edge of the cage, just watching, knowing what would come next. The heavy, wet object is-was-what remains of Douglass, all matted fur and torn muscle, shards of bone and blood. Scrambling out from under the larger wolf’s bulk, sting of teeth across his back, circling, waiting, dodging repeated attacks, leaping off the side of the wall.
Marcus nudges Josh, not gently, once more with the toe of his boot. “Nice work you made of that one,” he says, sneering at the carcass two other vampires are hauling away. He shakes his head. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Landing on his prey with a single purpose, one single thought. Claws find purchase in leathery hide. Spray of blood fills his mouth, mats his lashes, tastes like life. Josh swallows back the rising wave of nausea and levers himself onto his hands. There’s blood still caked between his fingers and under his nails.
Purposeful footsteps echo across the room. “Marcus,” says another too-familiar voice, and each word drags Josh across the coals all over again. “You’re wanted upstairs.”
Marcus pulls Josh up by the back of his neck, bends over his kneeling form, fingers twined in Josh’s hair, and whispers too softly for Aidan to hear, “I see why Aidan keeps you around; you’re well put-together for a mutt.” He runs his eyes over Josh’s naked skin. “He always did have good taste in ass. But he won’t be able to buy your freedom forever, doggie. The Dutch have your scent now and, mark my words, things are changing.” He lets Josh fall back to the floor, turns on his heel, and leaves without a backwards glance.
In a moment, Aidan is kneeling beside him, lifting him up and asking if he’s okay to walk. Josh almost believes his concern is genuine. He wants to believe, just like he wants to believe the last day and a half really never happened. “’M fine,” he croaks and pushes Aidan away. He stumbles against the wall instead.
Aidan backs off, meets his eyes. “We have to get you out of here. Now.”
Whatever his feelings and however late this rescue has come, Josh couldn’t agree more. He nods and lets Aidan wrap an arm under his shoulders, leans against him as they walk away from that horrible room.
Josh collapses into a chair in Douglass’ den, catching his breath, while Aidan picks up some clothes from the floor. Where were you? he wants to ask, when Marcus was chaining his hands and dragging him into the ring. Why didn’t you stop them? How many times have you watched this before? Instead, he quietly lets Aidan help him into a shirt, wincing as the sudden movement re-opens the bite wounds across his back.
“They’re not that bad,” Aidan tells him, dabbing the blood away so it won’t stain so obviously when they’re walking down the street. No joking around today, no You should’ve seen the other guy. “We’ll get you cleaned up back at the house.”
Josh pulls on his jeans and stands, unsteady on his feet. Before they leave this place for good, he stops and takes the topmost journal from Douglass’ stack, clamps it tightly against his chest. He has no idea if the information will be useful. Right now, he doesn’t really care.
He manages to hold back the sick until they’re outside in the sun. Behind the first dumpster they pass, he heaves until it feels like his insides have fallen out onto the street. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying not to think about what just came up, he wishes it was so easy to clear the images from his mind. He turns, shaking, to find Aidan scanning the blocks behind them.
Out here, it’s already late morning. Cars pass and trucks honk at any of the gridlocked intersections. Mothers push strollers down the sidewalk and children laugh in the distance. Pigeons flap around the dumpster, looking for scraps. Part of Josh is surprised that everything can be so different and still look exactly the same.
“You okay?” Aidan’s hand on his arm rouses him from his reverie.
“I guess.” He shrugs and takes back the journal Aidan offers. “Anyone following?”
Aidan shakes his head, walking slowly so Josh can keep up. “No,” he says, “you’re safe now. Come on.”
Josh wishes he could believe it. Ripping limbs apart, even after the other one stopped moving, egged on by the crowd he so desperately wanted to tear into but couldn’t reach, throwing himself against the bars. Safe was a relative term. “I remember, you know,” he says quietly. “They’re not the same, the memories from when it’s in control, just images, sounds, sensations, but I remember what I did, how it felt.”
Aidan stops, though the rest of the city keeps moving around them. “You know how you always say you want to keep that… that part of you separate? I guess I thought the same, that the less you and Sally knew about that place, the less it could hurt you, that I could keep it apart.”
Josh almost understands. “But you can’t, we can’t, can we?” He shakes his head. “I keep seeing his, Douglass' face, right before they-right before they brought me in. I know it was silly, but I was waiting, even then-Sally was so sure-still hoping that there was some way to make it stop.” He rubs his arms, despite the warmth of the sun. “I guess some things are inevitable,” he finally says. “Like the moon.”
“Josh, I-“ Aidan closes his eyes. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” It’s not quite an apology, but it's close, and after the last twisted night, close may even be enough.
"For get it." Aidan looks like he’s been hit and, finally, Josh starts to believe. “I know you tried.” He thinks of Marcus, of he won’t be able to buy your freedom forever, and wonders what even that mercy cost, wonders whether freedom matters when he’s trapped with these memories forever. But those are questions for later, for after a shower to wash the blood from his hair, for a night’s sleep in his own bed and a return to what passes for normalcy these days.
“Come on.” He offers Aidan his hand. It’s not quite forgiveness, but it’s all he has left to give. “Let’s get home.” And together they walk the familiar streets.
Author: krisomniac
Rating, warning, pairing: R for blood, guts, and innuendos. Gen, AidanandJosh, unless you really squint.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to Syfy, Jeremy Carver etc. Not me.
Word count: ~1200
Summary: Josh’s rescue comes, only Aidan knows that in too many ways, he’s already too late.
Author’s Note: Missing scene from 1x10, Dog Eat Dog. Basically, I just wanted to make things a little better? for Josh and Aidan.
Walk of Shame
A persistent boot against the small of his back drags Josh roughly awake. Consciousness wanders in slowly, swathed in the memories of a nightmare--not a nightmare, he realizes as he comes to. Something that happened. Something he did.
“Get up. You’re bleeding on my floor,” a hazy voice cuts through his thoughts, stings his too-sensitive ears. There’s a sound of squelching and something heavy being dragged along the cold concrete beside him.
Josh blearily opens his eyes.
The first thing he sees are the bars. That’s the moment he knows for sure that last night was real. Aidan gripping the edge of the cage, just watching, knowing what would come next. The heavy, wet object is-was-what remains of Douglass, all matted fur and torn muscle, shards of bone and blood. Scrambling out from under the larger wolf’s bulk, sting of teeth across his back, circling, waiting, dodging repeated attacks, leaping off the side of the wall.
Marcus nudges Josh, not gently, once more with the toe of his boot. “Nice work you made of that one,” he says, sneering at the carcass two other vampires are hauling away. He shakes his head. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Landing on his prey with a single purpose, one single thought. Claws find purchase in leathery hide. Spray of blood fills his mouth, mats his lashes, tastes like life. Josh swallows back the rising wave of nausea and levers himself onto his hands. There’s blood still caked between his fingers and under his nails.
Purposeful footsteps echo across the room. “Marcus,” says another too-familiar voice, and each word drags Josh across the coals all over again. “You’re wanted upstairs.”
Marcus pulls Josh up by the back of his neck, bends over his kneeling form, fingers twined in Josh’s hair, and whispers too softly for Aidan to hear, “I see why Aidan keeps you around; you’re well put-together for a mutt.” He runs his eyes over Josh’s naked skin. “He always did have good taste in ass. But he won’t be able to buy your freedom forever, doggie. The Dutch have your scent now and, mark my words, things are changing.” He lets Josh fall back to the floor, turns on his heel, and leaves without a backwards glance.
In a moment, Aidan is kneeling beside him, lifting him up and asking if he’s okay to walk. Josh almost believes his concern is genuine. He wants to believe, just like he wants to believe the last day and a half really never happened. “’M fine,” he croaks and pushes Aidan away. He stumbles against the wall instead.
Aidan backs off, meets his eyes. “We have to get you out of here. Now.”
Whatever his feelings and however late this rescue has come, Josh couldn’t agree more. He nods and lets Aidan wrap an arm under his shoulders, leans against him as they walk away from that horrible room.
Josh collapses into a chair in Douglass’ den, catching his breath, while Aidan picks up some clothes from the floor. Where were you? he wants to ask, when Marcus was chaining his hands and dragging him into the ring. Why didn’t you stop them? How many times have you watched this before? Instead, he quietly lets Aidan help him into a shirt, wincing as the sudden movement re-opens the bite wounds across his back.
“They’re not that bad,” Aidan tells him, dabbing the blood away so it won’t stain so obviously when they’re walking down the street. No joking around today, no You should’ve seen the other guy. “We’ll get you cleaned up back at the house.”
Josh pulls on his jeans and stands, unsteady on his feet. Before they leave this place for good, he stops and takes the topmost journal from Douglass’ stack, clamps it tightly against his chest. He has no idea if the information will be useful. Right now, he doesn’t really care.
He manages to hold back the sick until they’re outside in the sun. Behind the first dumpster they pass, he heaves until it feels like his insides have fallen out onto the street. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying not to think about what just came up, he wishes it was so easy to clear the images from his mind. He turns, shaking, to find Aidan scanning the blocks behind them.
Out here, it’s already late morning. Cars pass and trucks honk at any of the gridlocked intersections. Mothers push strollers down the sidewalk and children laugh in the distance. Pigeons flap around the dumpster, looking for scraps. Part of Josh is surprised that everything can be so different and still look exactly the same.
“You okay?” Aidan’s hand on his arm rouses him from his reverie.
“I guess.” He shrugs and takes back the journal Aidan offers. “Anyone following?”
Aidan shakes his head, walking slowly so Josh can keep up. “No,” he says, “you’re safe now. Come on.”
Josh wishes he could believe it. Ripping limbs apart, even after the other one stopped moving, egged on by the crowd he so desperately wanted to tear into but couldn’t reach, throwing himself against the bars. Safe was a relative term. “I remember, you know,” he says quietly. “They’re not the same, the memories from when it’s in control, just images, sounds, sensations, but I remember what I did, how it felt.”
Aidan stops, though the rest of the city keeps moving around them. “You know how you always say you want to keep that… that part of you separate? I guess I thought the same, that the less you and Sally knew about that place, the less it could hurt you, that I could keep it apart.”
Josh almost understands. “But you can’t, we can’t, can we?” He shakes his head. “I keep seeing his, Douglass' face, right before they-right before they brought me in. I know it was silly, but I was waiting, even then-Sally was so sure-still hoping that there was some way to make it stop.” He rubs his arms, despite the warmth of the sun. “I guess some things are inevitable,” he finally says. “Like the moon.”
“Josh, I-“ Aidan closes his eyes. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” It’s not quite an apology, but it's close, and after the last twisted night, close may even be enough.
"For get it." Aidan looks like he’s been hit and, finally, Josh starts to believe. “I know you tried.” He thinks of Marcus, of he won’t be able to buy your freedom forever, and wonders what even that mercy cost, wonders whether freedom matters when he’s trapped with these memories forever. But those are questions for later, for after a shower to wash the blood from his hair, for a night’s sleep in his own bed and a return to what passes for normalcy these days.
“Come on.” He offers Aidan his hand. It’s not quite forgiveness, but it’s all he has left to give. “Let’s get home.” And together they walk the familiar streets.