Falling Down Like Dominoes, 5/5
Title: Falling Down Like Dominoes, epilogue
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 821
Main Characters: Fictional Rockapella (Sean, Scott, Elliott, Barry)
Summary: The aftermath.
Will be posted to 10_hurt_comfort.
Before long they were leaving the building. Barry kept the Contessa ahead of him as he held onto her handcuffed wrists. Elliott insisted on helping Scott walk and Scott agreed, grateful for his help-and for the fact of knowing that it would help Elliott recover.
Sean walked on Scott's other side. He ran his tongue over his lips, looking over to where Elliott was watching Scott in concern.
"El . . ."
Elliott blinked, looking to his childhood friend.
Sean sighed. "I . . . I'm really sorry about what I said in the museum," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking. Well . . . I know I wasn't thinking. I just couldn't imagine."
Elliott shook his head. "Sean, it's understandable. Especially after how I acted when it was you. . . ." He was still speaking quietly. But he was speaking, and that was the most important thing. Talking louder would come.
"After all the weird stuff we've gone through since then, I should have known better," Sean objected. He shook his head. "And I was the target, but you two suffered the worst."
Scott looked up at him. "You suffered too, Sean," he said. "Seeing everything falling apart around you . . . that was the worst thing he could have done to you, and he knew it." Anger slipped into his voice.
Barry nodded in agreement. ". . . Any idea what we're going to do with the ruby shards?" he asked after a moment.
Sean shrugged, pulling a small plastic bag out of his pocket. "Maybe I'll give them to the Voice the next time he shows up," he said, studying the red pieces. "He'd probably know what to do with them."
"Good idea," Scott said.
His stomach abruptly rumbled. He gave a sheepish grin.
"You know, we haven't eaten since breakfast," he realized.
"Dinner is in order!" Sean declared as they reached their car. "Right after we stick Miss Contessa in a nice cell. I'm craving fried chicken right now."
"And mashed potatoes," Scott added in delight.
Elliott smiled. "Salad for me," he said. "And maybe some of those potatoes."
Scott grinned. "That's our El," he declared. "Vegetarian, thoughtful . . ."
"Girl-shy," Sean smirked.
Elliott colored. "Did I really flirt with that girl at the museum?" he asked. His memories of the incident were vague at best.
Barry nodded. "And she happens to be Baby Face Morales' girlfriend," he said matter-of-factly.
Elliott's mouth dropped open. "She . . . what?" he gasped, turning even deeper red.
Scott hugged him as they prepared to climb into the car. "At least she wasn't interested," he said.
Elliott gave a weak smile. "I guess that's something," he agreed.
He fell silent as they got inside and shut the doors. On the backseat, he was on the left, with Scott in the middle and the Contessa on the right. Sean and Barry got into the front, Sean turning the key in the ignition as he slid into the driver's seat.
Elliott looked to Scott. "You really are different," he said. "More at peace." Then, slowly, he managed a smile. "It might take a while, but . . . I hope someday I'll be able to start to move on too. . . ."
"You will," Sean said from the front. "Take as much time as you need, El."
Scott nodded. "And any time you want to talk, we're all right here," he said. "I promise." He sighed. "It's still going to take me a while too. I'm not sure I'll ever stop seeing you laying on the cold, stone floor. . . ."
Elliott nodded too, leaning back in the seat. "And I'm going to keep seeing you sprawled on the pier after that car hit you. . . ." His voice cracked.
He had been so terrified of what would happen once he had become aware of who was possessing him. He had never stopped fighting, even though the adviser had believed he had. And when the creep had revealed his plan to seal the others away in the ruby, Elliott had been absolutely panic-stricken. It had been a horrible moment, battling the wretch in his mind and trying so desperately to throw him out. He had prayed in anguish as he had struggled, pleading for the strength to fight back. . . .
"El?"
He started, looking over at Scott. He was clutching the seatbelt in his hands, his knuckles turning white.
Scott gave a sad smile. He did not say it was alright. Sometimes, with the haunting memories insisting on being relived, it was not alright. And one thing Elliott had taught him over the past weeks was that silence could be just as understanding as words.
He laid a hand on Elliott's shoulder.
Elliott managed a weak smile, relaxing into the seat.
Somehow, he had been given the strength he needed and succeeded in protecting his friends.
And someday, maybe sooner, maybe later, he and Scott would both be able to heal.
"Rock River roll me," he sang quietly. "I'll rest my weary soul . . . and leave my pain a while."
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Rating: T/PG-13
Word Count: 821
Main Characters: Fictional Rockapella (Sean, Scott, Elliott, Barry)
Summary: The aftermath.
Will be posted to 10_hurt_comfort.
Before long they were leaving the building. Barry kept the Contessa ahead of him as he held onto her handcuffed wrists. Elliott insisted on helping Scott walk and Scott agreed, grateful for his help-and for the fact of knowing that it would help Elliott recover.
Sean walked on Scott's other side. He ran his tongue over his lips, looking over to where Elliott was watching Scott in concern.
"El . . ."
Elliott blinked, looking to his childhood friend.
Sean sighed. "I . . . I'm really sorry about what I said in the museum," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking. Well . . . I know I wasn't thinking. I just couldn't imagine."
Elliott shook his head. "Sean, it's understandable. Especially after how I acted when it was you. . . ." He was still speaking quietly. But he was speaking, and that was the most important thing. Talking louder would come.
"After all the weird stuff we've gone through since then, I should have known better," Sean objected. He shook his head. "And I was the target, but you two suffered the worst."
Scott looked up at him. "You suffered too, Sean," he said. "Seeing everything falling apart around you . . . that was the worst thing he could have done to you, and he knew it." Anger slipped into his voice.
Barry nodded in agreement. ". . . Any idea what we're going to do with the ruby shards?" he asked after a moment.
Sean shrugged, pulling a small plastic bag out of his pocket. "Maybe I'll give them to the Voice the next time he shows up," he said, studying the red pieces. "He'd probably know what to do with them."
"Good idea," Scott said.
His stomach abruptly rumbled. He gave a sheepish grin.
"You know, we haven't eaten since breakfast," he realized.
"Dinner is in order!" Sean declared as they reached their car. "Right after we stick Miss Contessa in a nice cell. I'm craving fried chicken right now."
"And mashed potatoes," Scott added in delight.
Elliott smiled. "Salad for me," he said. "And maybe some of those potatoes."
Scott grinned. "That's our El," he declared. "Vegetarian, thoughtful . . ."
"Girl-shy," Sean smirked.
Elliott colored. "Did I really flirt with that girl at the museum?" he asked. His memories of the incident were vague at best.
Barry nodded. "And she happens to be Baby Face Morales' girlfriend," he said matter-of-factly.
Elliott's mouth dropped open. "She . . . what?" he gasped, turning even deeper red.
Scott hugged him as they prepared to climb into the car. "At least she wasn't interested," he said.
Elliott gave a weak smile. "I guess that's something," he agreed.
He fell silent as they got inside and shut the doors. On the backseat, he was on the left, with Scott in the middle and the Contessa on the right. Sean and Barry got into the front, Sean turning the key in the ignition as he slid into the driver's seat.
Elliott looked to Scott. "You really are different," he said. "More at peace." Then, slowly, he managed a smile. "It might take a while, but . . . I hope someday I'll be able to start to move on too. . . ."
"You will," Sean said from the front. "Take as much time as you need, El."
Scott nodded. "And any time you want to talk, we're all right here," he said. "I promise." He sighed. "It's still going to take me a while too. I'm not sure I'll ever stop seeing you laying on the cold, stone floor. . . ."
Elliott nodded too, leaning back in the seat. "And I'm going to keep seeing you sprawled on the pier after that car hit you. . . ." His voice cracked.
He had been so terrified of what would happen once he had become aware of who was possessing him. He had never stopped fighting, even though the adviser had believed he had. And when the creep had revealed his plan to seal the others away in the ruby, Elliott had been absolutely panic-stricken. It had been a horrible moment, battling the wretch in his mind and trying so desperately to throw him out. He had prayed in anguish as he had struggled, pleading for the strength to fight back. . . .
"El?"
He started, looking over at Scott. He was clutching the seatbelt in his hands, his knuckles turning white.
Scott gave a sad smile. He did not say it was alright. Sometimes, with the haunting memories insisting on being relived, it was not alright. And one thing Elliott had taught him over the past weeks was that silence could be just as understanding as words.
He laid a hand on Elliott's shoulder.
Elliott managed a weak smile, relaxing into the seat.
Somehow, he had been given the strength he needed and succeeded in protecting his friends.
And someday, maybe sooner, maybe later, he and Scott would both be able to heal.
"Rock River roll me," he sang quietly. "I'll rest my weary soul . . . and leave my pain a while."