Fic: If I Should Die Before I Wake
Title: If I Should Die Before I Wake
Summary: Some things are inevitable. And sometimes that's too much to accept.
Note: Filled for Kinkmeme prompt - A story based on the song ‘The Doctor's Wife’ by Clockwork Quartet with either Insano or Linksano. The details are up to you.
Warnings: character death, experimentation that's not terribly graphic but still has horrific/uncomfortable implications, moral choices that go astray, no one wins.
Author's note: The full prompt goes into much more detail, go check it out here. You can listen to the song here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. None of these characters are mine. This is a work of fiction and done purely for fun.
Monday the twenty-sixth of March
After another particularly awful seizure, the doctors admitted there was little left they could do. It was now only a matter of time. The patient’s body was shutting down and they were still struggling to understand the causes. The underlying cause was still a mystery to them despite countless analysis and the patient was no longer stable enough to sustain more testing. By this point, there was practically no hope for treatment.
Linksano took in the words carefully. As far as “I’m sorry, there’s nothing more we can do” talks went, the doctor in front of them handled it rather well. Especially given the fact that they were hardly easy to speak to as a group, displayed once again by how Finevoice went ballistic and 90s Kid broke down into fresh tears.
It took the combined strength of the scientist and Ninja-Style Dancer to pry Harvey off of the man just doing his job, and Linksano let the ninja be the one to attempt comfort the singer by letting Harvey grip him tightly instead, shaking and sobbing and begging to God that he couldn’t lose Linkara, not after Charlie.
While Harvey Finevoice broke down, Linksano put a hand on 90s Kid’s shoulder while he wept and squeezed gently. It barely counted as comfort, but the teen didn’t pull away and still mumbled something in reply when he finally rubbed his wet face with his hand.
They all stayed crowded around the hospital bed that day, waiting on baited breaths for those precious few moments of clarity when Linkara was coherent enough to speak to them and aware enough to see their faces, offering small, empty reassurances that they would do fine without him.
“You can have all my comics and movies,” he told 90s Kid, trying for a smile. “Make sure the place gets cleaned up at least every once in a while,” he then asked Ninja-Style Dancer. He turned his head feebly toward Linksano. “Don’t cause too much trouble,” he did his best to joke.
They gave him their broken smiles and nodded.
“Look out for them, Harvey.” Linkara made the effort to reach for the singer’s hand, grasping it weakly. “Make sure everyone stays safe. As best you can.”
They felt as though they would become undone. Linkara was the anchor that kept them stable, and that stability could hang on no one else’s shoulders. Without him they would surely drift aimlessly, lost and without purpose. How were they supposed to carry on without him?
Linkara’s mind slipped away into darkness and they had no answer as they remained silently together through the night. They did not get anything to hold onto until the next morning when Linkara’s eyes opened halfway and turned his head slightly, looking at the IVs and wires connected to him.
“I don’t wanna die here,” he whispered.
The words sparked a disturbing blossom of hope within Linksano. There was so little he could do with Linkara in a proper hospital in the light of watchful eyes and ethical codes. It was a struggle enough trying to do his own research while also still trying to be there with the others at his bedside. But with Linkara back at home, there would be no conflict.
It was also something not lost on the others, Linksano found out when he expressed his thoughts.
“I’m gonna be honest here; I was thinking the same thing,” Harvey admitted with a somewhat uncomfortable but still very desperate look.
“I mean, just because these doctor guys are giving up, doesn’t mean that we have to,” 90s Kid added.
*There is still the chance that not all is lost* Ninja-Style Dancer held up.
They gave each other glances to reaffirm what they were doing now that it had come to that point. The truth was that it was merely luck that Linkara had managed to voice his own request. They didn’t dwell on that, however, simply went about beginning the proper procedures and paperwork, all the while holding onto the last little sliver of hope.
It was all they left.
-----
Tuesday the seventeenth of May
On a list with an increasingly alarming number of crossed out words, Linksano put a strike though the word “speech”.
Almost two months later and Linkara was only getting worse, though Linksano held onto the knowledge that had their leader been left in the hospital, he would already be long gone. Whatever was killing Linkara was still winning, but Linksano was putting up a fighting battle against it. Always earning just a little bit more time; doing what needed to be done in order to ensure Linkara would make it through the day before working himself into the ground trying to gain any leads he could.
Sometimes the others would try to coax him away from his work. Sometimes even Finevoice, who rarely ever left Linkara’s bedside, would try to convince him to rest.
But how could he, when every second counted and Linkara wasted away before them? How could he, when his specialty was science, not medicine, and he needed to do every bit of research he could?
Now was not the time to give up. Not when there was still a chance. Not before he had gone through every drug currently at his disposal and the numerous ones he was still inventing. If there was any need to leave his lab, it was only to go collect more notes on Linkara’s condition, perhaps collect another small bit of blood or some other bodily sample.
It might look like there was no hope on a first glance, seeing the pale form of former comic book reviewer with no outward sign of life aside from the cold sweat clinging to his body and the feeble indication of breath. But Linksano had seen Linkara try to talk, had observed him attempt to make sounds leave his throat, and watched a soft touch still be enough to cause a whimper or flinch. All was not lost yet. There were small miracles in the darkness. The grip the disease had on Linkara was iron strong, but Linkara must have possessed some of his own strength to still be holding on.
There was still a chance, Linksano told himself. He only needed to work harder.
-----
Sunday the twenty-third of June
It was a complete surprise to Linksano the next month when Harvey came into his lab saying it was time to let go, to let Linkara go.
“He’s not there anymore,” Harvey said softly, peering into Linksano’s goggles with wet eyes, shoulders on the verge of trembling. “Hasn’t been for weeks. I can’t…. keep watching him lay there like that, already dead, just an empty body. It’s over. It’s been over. And God, I don’t want to let him go… But he’s…he’s not going to open his eyes again. We can’t keep doing this, doc. We lost. We tried and we lost, and this is…it’s killing us too.” His shoulders did start shaking then, tears slipping out unwillingly while he pressed his hand to his face.
Linksano blinked behind his goggles, not quite understanding.
“I’m afraid I don’t really follow, Finevoice,” he said, eyebrows furring slightly as he tried to comprehend what exactly Harvey was saying. He straightened up and tried to speak rationally and calmly to the obviously distressed man. “I understand that grief has gripped you very strongly, but please listen to me. You have to understand that mind is often so much more resilient than the body. A lack of response in no way means that Linkara cannot still hear and comprehend. His heartbeat is deteriorating, yes, but there is science that can aid with that that in keeping him stable.”
The scientist’s hidden eyes gleamed with fervor. “There is still so much research to continue doing. If it’s the taxing matter of caring for Linkara’s needs that is eliciting this reaction, I will see to it that you do not have to bear the burden so heavily. I will do so myself if I must. So please, there’s no need to come to such drastic conclusions. And certainly no need to be pronouncing Linkara as dead. Look, Finevoice, why don’t you take the afternoon to yourself and-”
“What is WRONG with you?!!!” Harvey yelled and watched Linksano close his mouth, looking genuinely taken aback. “It’s over!! Can’t you see that past those stupid goggles of yours?!! He was my son. He was my son, but he’s gone. Just like Charlie. No, not like Charlie. Because Charlie at least went quickly. Not like this. And I just wanted to keep him the way I couldn’t keep Charlie, but I can’t do this anymore! He’s gone. Even I can see that now. So why the hell can’t you? Why are you still trying?! Since when did Linkara ever matter so damn much to you?! What the hell are you trying to prove at this point?!”
As much as Linksano was unprepared for Harvey’s outburst of rage, he was even more unprepared for his own flow of emotionally charged words that lashed back.
“I care about Linkara!” he hollered. “Why is that not a good enough reason? Since when do you need to have point to prove to try and save someone?!! Linkara gave me a second chance at life, gave me something more than what I had. Why should I fail to do everything I can for him when he has done so much for me, and for everyone in this team!? There is still a chance to save him! I still have drugs to formulate! I still have samples to test! I still have things to do, and you can’t force me to give up yet!!”
There was too much emotion between them, too many months of stress finally boiling over. The silent pressures that had been building up became unleashed and the two finally had hit their snapping points. They screamed at each other without reserve, tearing pouring down their faces as they did so, pointless back and forth that only fueled their venting.
“We don’t have to lose him!”
“We already have!”
“I refuse to accept that!” Linksano shrieked. “I’ve already lost everything once! My home, my brother, everything I ever loved, and god fucking dammit, I am not going to lose yet another person! Especially not the person who gave me another home and a purpose on this parallel world that had meant nothing to me!”
After that, he stopped screaming, and felt his knees give out from under him. He looked emptily in front of him and saw nothing beyond the spiral lenses in front of his eyes.
“Is my whole life doomed to just be one loss after another?” he asked in whisper, not speaking to Harvey anymore, but to whatever forces, if any even existed, that governed the ever-shifting fluxes of the multiverse. “Am I such a failure that I can’t even save one person?” If science could accomplish anything, surely it was only a matter of time before it could solve this. He had to believe that. He had to believe in science because it was all he had ever had.
How long it was before Linksano realized his head was lying down against Harvey’s shoulder, he didn’t know. But at some point he became aware that Harvey had him in his arms there on the floor of the lab and the two stayed that way for a long time. Until at last weariness overcame Linksano and he fell into unconsciousness.
-----
Tuesday the eighteenth of July
“There we go,” Linksano said in pleasant voice as he watched his newest mechanism click and hum within Linkara’s still-open chest. Everything looked to be working fine. Linksano hunched over the figure on the table and carefully worked to sew the skin back together; ignoring the dead organ in the jar beside him that formally resided in the space he had just operated on.
“I know, I know, ‘never would be nice’ and all that,” Linksano chattered as he worked. “But this,” he gestured with a hand, “is why we can’t have nice things. You can scold me for playing god when you wake up. It’s not Christmas at least,” he pointed out before next bursting out into hysterical giggles that forced him to pause his hands. “But if you cooperate, we can have a Christmas in July very soon,” he said and forced his shaking fingers to still so he could continue. “This device will work out better anyway, much more efficient.”
When he finally finished the last suture, he hurried to sterilize his hands and his work space. To his delight, Linkara’s chest continued to rise and fall on its own. His heart might have had to go, but Linksano had ensured the rest of the organs would continue to function in the withered husk of a body.
“This is what you get for letting nature take its course,” he muttered aloud to no one. “But no matter, repairs can finally begin in earnest.” He turned toward a cluttered work table. It was very handy to still have so much of his equipment from when he had upgraded Mechakara while under Lord Vyce’s watch. Medicine and healing had eluded Linksano, but sweet science was always there to fix things. Science was always the answer. He’d get things right. A little more time and a little more patience and Linkara would be upright and pestering him about cybermat upgrades just like before.
Linksano dared to smile, and far from the lab Harvey Finevoice sighed at the crazed grin from the other side of one of Comicron-1’s video screens while the Ninja-Style Dancer shook his head at the sight.
*Why do you let him commit such desecrations?* he held up. *It’s sickening.*
“You gonna tell me there’s some right answer in all this?” Harvey asked solemnly.
*That is still Linkara* Ninja-Style Dancer argued, eyes flashing.
“That is not Linkara,” Harvey hissed. “We buried Linkara. We put the Kid to rest and we said our peace. You want me to deal with this too? You know that he’ll just make another and pick right up where he left off.”
*I do not want you to deal with this. I want you to end this.* The ninja flipped to another card. *Or else I will.
“And do what?” Harvey pressed, fiddling with a cigarette in his hand. “Take him out yourself and get more blood everywhere? Or just take away all his toys and watch him tear the world apart? Big Eyes threw himself off the deep end a long while back. There is no end.”
*And this way is the lesser of evils at hand?*
Harvey was silent for a bit. “Keeps him away from everyone else. And keeps everyone else away from him,” he finally answered.
*He is not worth protecting at this point.*
Harvey let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t I know it,” he remarked. Guilt crept into his eyes, however, and he momentarily turned them downward. “But maybe if I hadn’t been so slow to pull myself together, maybe if I hadn’t tried to hold on for so long myself, maybe there could have been a point where it didn’t have to end up like this.”
Ninja-style Dancer set a hand on the other man’s shoulder. *It is not your fault.*
“It’s not his either,” Harvey said softly.
Ninja-Style Dance looked up at the monitor for a minute before and his expression of sympathy soured. *I still do not condone this.*
The singer’s voice went flat in an instant. “I don’t much of a damn if you do or not. I didn’t promise the kid I’d be liked. I promised him that’d I’d keep everybody alive and safe. And that still includes Big Eyes, deranged or not. If he’s in his own little world, at least he’s occupied and isolated.”
*….And if he ever succeeds in his perverted goal?* Ninja-style Dancer asked, watching Linksano’s fingers caress over screwdriver and scalpel.
Harvey gripped his cigarette tighter and didn’t answer.
Summary: Some things are inevitable. And sometimes that's too much to accept.
Note: Filled for Kinkmeme prompt - A story based on the song ‘The Doctor's Wife’ by Clockwork Quartet with either Insano or Linksano. The details are up to you.
Warnings: character death, experimentation that's not terribly graphic but still has horrific/uncomfortable implications, moral choices that go astray, no one wins.
Author's note: The full prompt goes into much more detail, go check it out here. You can listen to the song here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. None of these characters are mine. This is a work of fiction and done purely for fun.
Monday the twenty-sixth of March
After another particularly awful seizure, the doctors admitted there was little left they could do. It was now only a matter of time. The patient’s body was shutting down and they were still struggling to understand the causes. The underlying cause was still a mystery to them despite countless analysis and the patient was no longer stable enough to sustain more testing. By this point, there was practically no hope for treatment.
Linksano took in the words carefully. As far as “I’m sorry, there’s nothing more we can do” talks went, the doctor in front of them handled it rather well. Especially given the fact that they were hardly easy to speak to as a group, displayed once again by how Finevoice went ballistic and 90s Kid broke down into fresh tears.
It took the combined strength of the scientist and Ninja-Style Dancer to pry Harvey off of the man just doing his job, and Linksano let the ninja be the one to attempt comfort the singer by letting Harvey grip him tightly instead, shaking and sobbing and begging to God that he couldn’t lose Linkara, not after Charlie.
While Harvey Finevoice broke down, Linksano put a hand on 90s Kid’s shoulder while he wept and squeezed gently. It barely counted as comfort, but the teen didn’t pull away and still mumbled something in reply when he finally rubbed his wet face with his hand.
They all stayed crowded around the hospital bed that day, waiting on baited breaths for those precious few moments of clarity when Linkara was coherent enough to speak to them and aware enough to see their faces, offering small, empty reassurances that they would do fine without him.
“You can have all my comics and movies,” he told 90s Kid, trying for a smile. “Make sure the place gets cleaned up at least every once in a while,” he then asked Ninja-Style Dancer. He turned his head feebly toward Linksano. “Don’t cause too much trouble,” he did his best to joke.
They gave him their broken smiles and nodded.
“Look out for them, Harvey.” Linkara made the effort to reach for the singer’s hand, grasping it weakly. “Make sure everyone stays safe. As best you can.”
They felt as though they would become undone. Linkara was the anchor that kept them stable, and that stability could hang on no one else’s shoulders. Without him they would surely drift aimlessly, lost and without purpose. How were they supposed to carry on without him?
Linkara’s mind slipped away into darkness and they had no answer as they remained silently together through the night. They did not get anything to hold onto until the next morning when Linkara’s eyes opened halfway and turned his head slightly, looking at the IVs and wires connected to him.
“I don’t wanna die here,” he whispered.
The words sparked a disturbing blossom of hope within Linksano. There was so little he could do with Linkara in a proper hospital in the light of watchful eyes and ethical codes. It was a struggle enough trying to do his own research while also still trying to be there with the others at his bedside. But with Linkara back at home, there would be no conflict.
It was also something not lost on the others, Linksano found out when he expressed his thoughts.
“I’m gonna be honest here; I was thinking the same thing,” Harvey admitted with a somewhat uncomfortable but still very desperate look.
“I mean, just because these doctor guys are giving up, doesn’t mean that we have to,” 90s Kid added.
*There is still the chance that not all is lost* Ninja-Style Dancer held up.
They gave each other glances to reaffirm what they were doing now that it had come to that point. The truth was that it was merely luck that Linkara had managed to voice his own request. They didn’t dwell on that, however, simply went about beginning the proper procedures and paperwork, all the while holding onto the last little sliver of hope.
It was all they left.
-----
Tuesday the seventeenth of May
On a list with an increasingly alarming number of crossed out words, Linksano put a strike though the word “speech”.
Almost two months later and Linkara was only getting worse, though Linksano held onto the knowledge that had their leader been left in the hospital, he would already be long gone. Whatever was killing Linkara was still winning, but Linksano was putting up a fighting battle against it. Always earning just a little bit more time; doing what needed to be done in order to ensure Linkara would make it through the day before working himself into the ground trying to gain any leads he could.
Sometimes the others would try to coax him away from his work. Sometimes even Finevoice, who rarely ever left Linkara’s bedside, would try to convince him to rest.
But how could he, when every second counted and Linkara wasted away before them? How could he, when his specialty was science, not medicine, and he needed to do every bit of research he could?
Now was not the time to give up. Not when there was still a chance. Not before he had gone through every drug currently at his disposal and the numerous ones he was still inventing. If there was any need to leave his lab, it was only to go collect more notes on Linkara’s condition, perhaps collect another small bit of blood or some other bodily sample.
It might look like there was no hope on a first glance, seeing the pale form of former comic book reviewer with no outward sign of life aside from the cold sweat clinging to his body and the feeble indication of breath. But Linksano had seen Linkara try to talk, had observed him attempt to make sounds leave his throat, and watched a soft touch still be enough to cause a whimper or flinch. All was not lost yet. There were small miracles in the darkness. The grip the disease had on Linkara was iron strong, but Linkara must have possessed some of his own strength to still be holding on.
There was still a chance, Linksano told himself. He only needed to work harder.
-----
Sunday the twenty-third of June
It was a complete surprise to Linksano the next month when Harvey came into his lab saying it was time to let go, to let Linkara go.
“He’s not there anymore,” Harvey said softly, peering into Linksano’s goggles with wet eyes, shoulders on the verge of trembling. “Hasn’t been for weeks. I can’t…. keep watching him lay there like that, already dead, just an empty body. It’s over. It’s been over. And God, I don’t want to let him go… But he’s…he’s not going to open his eyes again. We can’t keep doing this, doc. We lost. We tried and we lost, and this is…it’s killing us too.” His shoulders did start shaking then, tears slipping out unwillingly while he pressed his hand to his face.
Linksano blinked behind his goggles, not quite understanding.
“I’m afraid I don’t really follow, Finevoice,” he said, eyebrows furring slightly as he tried to comprehend what exactly Harvey was saying. He straightened up and tried to speak rationally and calmly to the obviously distressed man. “I understand that grief has gripped you very strongly, but please listen to me. You have to understand that mind is often so much more resilient than the body. A lack of response in no way means that Linkara cannot still hear and comprehend. His heartbeat is deteriorating, yes, but there is science that can aid with that that in keeping him stable.”
The scientist’s hidden eyes gleamed with fervor. “There is still so much research to continue doing. If it’s the taxing matter of caring for Linkara’s needs that is eliciting this reaction, I will see to it that you do not have to bear the burden so heavily. I will do so myself if I must. So please, there’s no need to come to such drastic conclusions. And certainly no need to be pronouncing Linkara as dead. Look, Finevoice, why don’t you take the afternoon to yourself and-”
“What is WRONG with you?!!!” Harvey yelled and watched Linksano close his mouth, looking genuinely taken aback. “It’s over!! Can’t you see that past those stupid goggles of yours?!! He was my son. He was my son, but he’s gone. Just like Charlie. No, not like Charlie. Because Charlie at least went quickly. Not like this. And I just wanted to keep him the way I couldn’t keep Charlie, but I can’t do this anymore! He’s gone. Even I can see that now. So why the hell can’t you? Why are you still trying?! Since when did Linkara ever matter so damn much to you?! What the hell are you trying to prove at this point?!”
As much as Linksano was unprepared for Harvey’s outburst of rage, he was even more unprepared for his own flow of emotionally charged words that lashed back.
“I care about Linkara!” he hollered. “Why is that not a good enough reason? Since when do you need to have point to prove to try and save someone?!! Linkara gave me a second chance at life, gave me something more than what I had. Why should I fail to do everything I can for him when he has done so much for me, and for everyone in this team!? There is still a chance to save him! I still have drugs to formulate! I still have samples to test! I still have things to do, and you can’t force me to give up yet!!”
There was too much emotion between them, too many months of stress finally boiling over. The silent pressures that had been building up became unleashed and the two finally had hit their snapping points. They screamed at each other without reserve, tearing pouring down their faces as they did so, pointless back and forth that only fueled their venting.
“We don’t have to lose him!”
“We already have!”
“I refuse to accept that!” Linksano shrieked. “I’ve already lost everything once! My home, my brother, everything I ever loved, and god fucking dammit, I am not going to lose yet another person! Especially not the person who gave me another home and a purpose on this parallel world that had meant nothing to me!”
After that, he stopped screaming, and felt his knees give out from under him. He looked emptily in front of him and saw nothing beyond the spiral lenses in front of his eyes.
“Is my whole life doomed to just be one loss after another?” he asked in whisper, not speaking to Harvey anymore, but to whatever forces, if any even existed, that governed the ever-shifting fluxes of the multiverse. “Am I such a failure that I can’t even save one person?” If science could accomplish anything, surely it was only a matter of time before it could solve this. He had to believe that. He had to believe in science because it was all he had ever had.
How long it was before Linksano realized his head was lying down against Harvey’s shoulder, he didn’t know. But at some point he became aware that Harvey had him in his arms there on the floor of the lab and the two stayed that way for a long time. Until at last weariness overcame Linksano and he fell into unconsciousness.
-----
Tuesday the eighteenth of July
“There we go,” Linksano said in pleasant voice as he watched his newest mechanism click and hum within Linkara’s still-open chest. Everything looked to be working fine. Linksano hunched over the figure on the table and carefully worked to sew the skin back together; ignoring the dead organ in the jar beside him that formally resided in the space he had just operated on.
“I know, I know, ‘never would be nice’ and all that,” Linksano chattered as he worked. “But this,” he gestured with a hand, “is why we can’t have nice things. You can scold me for playing god when you wake up. It’s not Christmas at least,” he pointed out before next bursting out into hysterical giggles that forced him to pause his hands. “But if you cooperate, we can have a Christmas in July very soon,” he said and forced his shaking fingers to still so he could continue. “This device will work out better anyway, much more efficient.”
When he finally finished the last suture, he hurried to sterilize his hands and his work space. To his delight, Linkara’s chest continued to rise and fall on its own. His heart might have had to go, but Linksano had ensured the rest of the organs would continue to function in the withered husk of a body.
“This is what you get for letting nature take its course,” he muttered aloud to no one. “But no matter, repairs can finally begin in earnest.” He turned toward a cluttered work table. It was very handy to still have so much of his equipment from when he had upgraded Mechakara while under Lord Vyce’s watch. Medicine and healing had eluded Linksano, but sweet science was always there to fix things. Science was always the answer. He’d get things right. A little more time and a little more patience and Linkara would be upright and pestering him about cybermat upgrades just like before.
Linksano dared to smile, and far from the lab Harvey Finevoice sighed at the crazed grin from the other side of one of Comicron-1’s video screens while the Ninja-Style Dancer shook his head at the sight.
*Why do you let him commit such desecrations?* he held up. *It’s sickening.*
“You gonna tell me there’s some right answer in all this?” Harvey asked solemnly.
*That is still Linkara* Ninja-Style Dancer argued, eyes flashing.
“That is not Linkara,” Harvey hissed. “We buried Linkara. We put the Kid to rest and we said our peace. You want me to deal with this too? You know that he’ll just make another and pick right up where he left off.”
*I do not want you to deal with this. I want you to end this.* The ninja flipped to another card. *Or else I will.
“And do what?” Harvey pressed, fiddling with a cigarette in his hand. “Take him out yourself and get more blood everywhere? Or just take away all his toys and watch him tear the world apart? Big Eyes threw himself off the deep end a long while back. There is no end.”
*And this way is the lesser of evils at hand?*
Harvey was silent for a bit. “Keeps him away from everyone else. And keeps everyone else away from him,” he finally answered.
*He is not worth protecting at this point.*
Harvey let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t I know it,” he remarked. Guilt crept into his eyes, however, and he momentarily turned them downward. “But maybe if I hadn’t been so slow to pull myself together, maybe if I hadn’t tried to hold on for so long myself, maybe there could have been a point where it didn’t have to end up like this.”
Ninja-style Dancer set a hand on the other man’s shoulder. *It is not your fault.*
“It’s not his either,” Harvey said softly.
Ninja-Style Dance looked up at the monitor for a minute before and his expression of sympathy soured. *I still do not condone this.*
The singer’s voice went flat in an instant. “I don’t much of a damn if you do or not. I didn’t promise the kid I’d be liked. I promised him that’d I’d keep everybody alive and safe. And that still includes Big Eyes, deranged or not. If he’s in his own little world, at least he’s occupied and isolated.”
*….And if he ever succeeds in his perverted goal?* Ninja-style Dancer asked, watching Linksano’s fingers caress over screwdriver and scalpel.
Harvey gripped his cigarette tighter and didn’t answer.