Evil Author Day - 2012 - Miscellaneous Fandoms
Evil Author Day Miscellaneous Fandoms
Last entry of the day. (I'll stop spamming everyone now...)
LOTR - Hope (undecided) - Lord of the Rings
Galadriel awoke from her reverie and frowned slightly as she tried to determine the cause. There was tension in the air and all was silent... as if the world was holding its breath. And then, as if the spell had broken, sound rushed back and she could faintly hear the sounds of a newborn crying as she Saw the White Tree of Life bear its first new bud in over a thousand years.
"My love?" Celeborn queried quietly.
"He has come," Galadriel stated quietly. "The Heir of Elidian, the Hope of Man, has come to Arda. Our time here shall be coming to an end."
Celeborn stroked her hair. "And do we weep or rejoice?"
"That, I cannot say," Galadriel said and then allowed herself to relax into her husband's embrace.
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Harry Potter MPREG (Remus/Severus) - Harry Potter
Poppy stepped through the Floo, her lips pursed in concern. She had been shocked when St. Mungo's had contacted her at her sister's cottage, especially when she discovered the reason why. She walked briskly up to the information desk. "Remus Lupin, please. I am Poppy Pomfrey," she stated.
The somewhat harried looking medi-witch gave her a cursory glance before conjuring a blue will-o-wisp that floated in front of Poppy, stopping about a foot from her nose and blinked impatiently. "Remus Lupin," she stated clearly. The wisp blinked twice more and then began moving down the hallway, stopping about three feet away as it waited for Poppy to catch up.
"Thank you," Poppy said and then strode after the blue wisp.
At her first look at Remus, Poppy was appalled. He'd only been gone from Hogwarts for a scant two months and he already looked as bad, if not worse, as he had at the beginning of the school term. Tutting to herself in displeasure, she approached the bed and immediately began her own scanning. It wasn't that she didn't trust St. Mungo's, but she had been treating Remus since he was eleven years old, so she was positive that she was better qualified to assess his condition. "Remus, Remus, what have you been doing to yourself?" she murmured. She was alarmed both by his pallor and the amount of weight he had lost. Remus had always been on the slender side, but now he was downright gaunt. She gently brushed some unruly strands of tawny hair away from his face. It had grown longer over the summer, and Poppy could almost imagine she was tending the teenage Remus after a difficult full moon once again.
"Madam Pomfrey, I hope?" a voice startled her out of her ruminations and Poppy turned to face the young medi-wizard who was approaching her.
"Yes. I assume you are handling Remus' case?" she asked. At his nod, she continued. "What kind of treatment have you..." Poppy stopped speaking as the results of her scanning spell captured her attention and her eyes widened.
"Ah, I see you have made the same diagnosis that I have," the mediwizard stated with a small smile. "It's unbelievable, isn't it? I had no idea such a thing was possible."
Poppy disregarded his words as she fixed him with a no-nonsense stare that even Albus Dumblebore would be hard-pressed to meet. "Have you spoken of this to anyone?" she demanded.
The mediwizard looked offended. "Of course not! I haven't even spoken with Mr. Lupin, as he has not yet regained consciousness."
"Good. I'm sorry, my dear, but needs must..."
"What...?"
With one fluid motion, Poppy drew her wand and, fixing an image of Remus and his name firmly in her mind, declared, "Obviate!"
The mediwizard's eyes glazed over for an instant, and then he blinked and looked about him in confusion. "Where...?"
Fixing a solicitous expression upon her face, Poppy touched the bewildered man's arm. "You poor dear, you've been working much too hard. Weren't you saying something about it being time for you to take a break?"
"A break? Yes, yes, I do believe a break is in order." The mediwizard gave her a vacant smile and wandered off.
Poppy shook her head. She felt a bit guilty about casting a memory charm on the man for doing his job, but there was no help for it. Now, she needed to get Remus back to Hogwarts and alert Albus before anyone else came into the ward. Luckily, it appeared that Remus was the only patient currently in residence in the isolated werewolf ward. She muttered a quick obscurement charm, just in case anyone happened by, then approached the bed. Happily, Remus' clothes and wand were tucked into the cubbyhole next to the bed, and she placed them on top of his stomach.
Remus thought he heard voices, one of which sounded vaguely familiar. They were just a faint murmur at first, but they became clearer as he struggled to hear what they were saying. Something about a break? With a tremendous force of will, he forced his eyes open and was surprised to see Madam Pomfrey smiling down at him. He blinked. "Poppy?"
"Remus! Thank goodness you're awake! And just in time, too. We need to go. Be a dear and take hold of these spectacles, please," Poppy instructed.
His brow crinkled in confusion, but Remus was accustomed to following Poppy's instruction without asking questions, and this time was no different. With a mental shrug, he did as requested and immediately felt the tug at his naval that signified a port key activating. 'Swell,' he thought, 'I'm sure this will do wonders for my nausea.'
When he opened his eyes again, the familiar sight of the Hogwarts Infirmary swam into view. "Ugh," he said as his stomach heaved, but luckily, there was nothing in his stomach, and he managed to avoid disgracing himself.
"Now, Remus, I want you to lie right back down on that bed and rest. Honestly, you've only been away for two months and look at the state you're in!" Poppy tsked at him.
"Sorry, Poppy. I just picked up some nasty flu bug that I can't seem to shake. I was on my way to get some Pepper Up potion, and the next thing I know I'm waking up and there you are. I'm assuming that was St. Mungo's?" Remus asked as he stumbled over to the bed, still clutching his wand and clothes.
Poppy gave him a strained smile. "Yes, you were in St. Mungo's. They contacted me when you were brought in after collapsing in Diagon Alley. However, you don't have the flu, Remus."
"I don't?" Remus was startled, and then a bit concerned.
"No. You're pregnant," she stated matter-of-factly before striding away toward the floo at the other side of the infirmary.
-----
Harry Potter - Werewolf Slave (Remus/Severus) Harry Potter
Severus nearly groaned aloud when the Dark Mark upon his arm began burning. Albus had called an emergency meeting of the Order early that morning, and now it looked as though his night would be exceptionally long. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh and caught Albus' eye. Once Albus gave him a nod of understanding, he quietly took his leave and stepped outside to apperate.
He was somewhat surprised to find himself appearing in the Malfoy mansion. The Dark Lord didn't often visit the homes of his followers, unless, of course, he wished to claim the residence as his own. Taking a quick head count, he discovered that only Lucius and Wormtail were attending the Dark Lord. Bowing deeply, he made his greeting, "Master."
"Severus, we have a gift for you," Voldemort said, a sinister grin growing upon his face. "Come closer and take a look."
Doing as instructed, Severus began to have a horrifying premonition of just what the gift might be. After all, the Order had spent all day trying to determine the whereabouts of Remus Lupin, who, it seemed, had been purchased before any of the members of the Order had even discovered he'd been put up for sale. The new werewolf laws had caught everyone by surprise, even the two aurors within the ranks. By the time Black and Potter had made it to Azkaban, Remus was already gone. This caused quite a bit of concern all around, not only for the werewolf's well-being, but for the knowledge he had of the Order. Severus, in particular, feared that his cover may have been blown.
As he approached the Dark Lord, Lucius and Wormtail moved back and Severus could see a cloaked figure curled up in a fetal position on the floor. A chain snaked from beneath the cloak to a leash held in Lucius' hands. "A gift, my lord?" Severus questioned softly.
"Yes. Lucius and Wormtail have assured me that you will find this gift most satisfying. I had hoped to question him, as we are all well aware that he was a member of Dumbledore's precious Order of the Phoenix, but it appears that he had an unfortunate encounter with the Dementors."
'Dementors?' Severus thought. He was torn between conflicting emotions of relief and horror. He was relieved that his cover was still intact, but Remus had been... Stepping closer, he jerked back the cloak with a snap of his wrist. Wide amber eyes stared back at him in abject terror, but Remus didn't move a muscle. There was no recognition at all. "Lupin," he sneered, but there was still no response. Just the watchful gaze of prey when a predator was nearby. He tsked in disgust and let the cloak fall back over Lupin's head. Careful to keep his own expression a mixture of loathing and boredom, he looked over at Lucius, who was watching with raised eyebrows.
"Well, Severus? Do you like your gift? We considered just killing it, which is what Wormtail wanted to do, but I remembered how you used to complain bitterly about Potter and his friends tormenting you in school. Now, you can do whatever you want with Lupin, here, the one who 'almost ate you,'" Lucius taunted.
Biting his tongue to keep his words from flaying Lucius alive, Severus instead turned to the Dark Lord. "Thank you, Master, for the most... thoughtful gift."
Voldemort laughed. "Ah, Severus, you always know just what to say, don't you? Lucius." He snapped his fingers. "Give him the collar." When Lucius presented the gleaming silver circlet, Voldemort continued, "The collar is keyed to whoever places it upon the werewolf's neck. Once it is in place, he will be compelled to protect you, obey you, even die for you."
Severus reached out and accepted the circlet, keeping his revulsion for what it represented safely hidden deep within his most powerful mental shields.
"Come now, I wish to see you collar the beast. We did have have a bit of fun with him before you arrived, but I'm quite interested in how he will react to the collar."
Nodding his head to show his compliance with the Dark Lord's wishes, Severus kneeled down and once more removed the cloak from Lupin's head. As before, the werewolf simply stared at him with fear, silent and waiting. Moving slowly, not sure how the werewolf would react, Severus pulled open the simple iron collar that currently adorned Lupin's neck and replaced it with the silver one. There was a soft whimper as the silver contacted the man's skin, and then Severus closed the collar and felt a tingle as the magic activated. Knowing what would please the Dark Lord, Severus immediately stood and ordered the werewolf, "Kneel to your Master, wolf."
-----
Dark of Night (Remus/Severus) - Harry Potter
Remus looked up from the valerian root he was chopping into a fine dust. If he'd been in wolf form, he was sure his hackles would have been raised. Something was about to happen... something bad. He glanced behind him to where James and Sirius were working, and the expressions of studied innocence they presented to him did nothing to reassure. A quick check to the table beside him showed the normal scowling face of Severus Snape, and Remus sighed.
"What is it?" Peter hissed, bringing him back to the potion at hand.
"I'm not sure. Just..." and then Remus caught a whiff of something that didn't belong in their current assignment. His eyes widened as he recognized it. "Oh no, didn't they read chapter six? If that's added now..." he muttered. He was about to turn around and warn his friends of the dangers when the tell-tale sizzle came from Severus' cauldron. Werewolf reflexes took over, and Remus launched himself at the Slytherin. "Get down!" He had a fleeting impression of startled onyx eyes and then the world went white... and then black.
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X-Files - 5th (Mulder/Krycek) - X-Files
Alex jerked awake, his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through his body. He was terrified. Grabbing the gun he never let leave his side, he scanned the cabin, trying to identify the source of his distress. There was nothing. Everything was just as it had been when he'd nodded off. His eyes flicked to the bed and he slowly replaced his gun. Mulder was restless, his breath coming in quick pants as he fought against invisible restraints. Rising silently to his feet, Alex moved back over to the bed. He'd left a candle burning in a jar, so he could see that Mulder was screaming silently, tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyes.
Reaching out, Alex grabbed one of the flailing hands, gripping it tightly with his own. Not for the first time, and not the last, either, he cursed the loss of his arm. Unable to soothe Mulder with another hand, he had to rely on his voice. "Mulder. Mulder. Wake up. It's a dream. Mulder... Fox, c'mon don't do this. You need to conserve your strength, not waste it on phantom enemies," Alex scolded gently, trying to keep his voice low and calming. Something must have gotten through, as Mulder suddenly stopped fighting and simply froze, still holding Alex's hand in a death grip.
Breathing heavily, Mulder tried to assess his surroundings. One minute, he'd been fighting against his alien captors, trying to escape from the next round of tests, the light blinding his eyes and restraints being forced on him... and the next he was nearly in the dark and gripping onto someone's hand for dear life. Wait... not just someone's... Alex Krycek's. Mulder sucked in a deep breath as his mind flickered into action. Earlier, he'd dreamed of Alex comforting him, telling him was safe. But maybe it hadn't been a dream. Turning his head, his eyes widened as he stared into worried eyes that stared right back at him.
"See? Nothing scary here, just me," Alex said wryly. "Could you ease up on the grip there? That's the only hand I have."
Still staring, Mulder forced himself to loosen his hold, but couldn't quite make himself release the reassuring grip completely. Hesitently, he slowly brought up his other hand toward Alex's face, wanting to touch him, to verify it was really him. Alex flinched and Mulder froze and then dropped his hand, shuddering as he closed his eyes. He released Alex's hand and turned away, burrowing under the blanket. Well, it was definitely Alex. No one else would have that immediate rejection of Mulder's touch, the instinctual flash of panic, and Mulder had no one to blame but himself.
'Oh, good going, Alex. He reaches out and what happens?' Alex sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. He couldn't believe that he'd flinched. He'd stared down death itself without blinking. Shit. Sighing, Alex placed his hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Mulder, it's not your fault. You just surprised me." There was no response and he removed his hand. "We'll talk about it in the morning," he finally muttered and stumbled back to his bed.
Mulder listened and waited until he heard Alex settle back down, and then opened his eyes once more. He touched his own cheeks, surprised to find the moisture there. And who was he crying for? Himself? Alex? Both of them? He was completely at a loss. For some reason, he was drawn to Alex... had always been drawn to Alex. But before, whenever he'd seen him, it was as if the man triggered some response in his brain and a litany would chant itself in his head--betrayer! murderer! hurt me, hurt Scully, killed father--and it wouldn't stop until Alex was gone once again. Now, however, it was silent. Mulder frowned as whispy memories of someone murmuring to him flickered in his subconscious--something about Alex... It was gone.
Sighing, Mulder closed his eyes again. Just the small amount of movement he had done had left his muscles shaking slightly and used up all of his energy. He wondered how long it had been since he'd found the alien ship. And just what had happened to him? His mind shied away from that question and Mulder could feel a familiar darkness taking over his mind.
-----
Highlander - Amnesia (Methos/Macleod) - Highlander
St. Julian's, Paris, 1985
Darius looked on in horror as the Quickening struck his oldest friend again and again, with no sign of letting up. Some of the stained glass windows had blown out, and even the heavy oak pews had been blown back by the force of Grayson's Quickening, and Darius knew it wasn't because of Grayson's age or power. No, it was the result of a Quickening on Holy Ground, and he could only pray that his friend would survive breaking the rules of the so-called Game. After an eternity of light and noise, the silence that fell in the church felt unnatural. Darius slowly made his way to the fallen form in the middle of the church. Grayson's head and body had been incinerated by the lightning, but the pale form crumpled on the cold, grey stones remained unmarked. The Quickening had healed all of the damage from the fight and its own vicious strikes. Kneeling down, Darius lifted the limp head into his lap, smoothing back the dark hair that skimmed the other's eyebrows. "Methos," he called softly, somewhat reassured at the faint pulse he could feel in the man's neck. When the man did not awaken, Darius let out a soft sigh and carefully lifted him into his arms. "What am I going to do with you?" he whispered as he carried the man farther into the sanctuary and into his own room.
Paris 1995
Joe sighed heavily before starting to dial. Nothing he had to tell the young researcher was going to be welcome. Adam had practically been adopted by Don Salzer, and the news of his mentor's death was going to hit him hard. On top of that, explaining that an Immortal was on his way to his apartment was not likely to overjoy the man, either. For one thing, fraternization between Immortals and Watchers was definitely frowned upon, and for another, Adam was unlikely to appreciate the fact that he was next on Kalas' hit list. Dawson just hoped that Macleod made it to Adam's apartment in time. He was just about to hang up after the fourth ring when a breathless voice answered.
"Pierson."
"Adam, it's Joe Dawson."
"Joe! Are you in Paris? Don will be wanting to set up a poker game. He loves to take your money," Adam gently teased the other man.
"Yeah, I'm in Paris. Listen, Adam, I'm afraid I've some bad news. It's about Don..." Joe began.
"Don? Is he alright? I'm supposed to meet him at the bookstore tomorrow," Adam interrupted, his stomach clenching as a feeling of dread swept over him.
"I'm sorry, Adam. Don is dead."
A quick inhalation of breath was Adam's first response, then he stammered out a denial. "There must be some mistake, Joe. I'm to meet him tomorrow..."
"There's no mistake. I'm really sorry. But listen, Adam, there's more. Don was murdered. By an Immortal. Have you run across the name Kalas in any of your research?"
"Kalas? Yes. But what does that... Are you saying that Kalas killed Don? Why?" Adam asked.
"Kalas is looking for Methos. He captured his Watcher and managed to discover that Don was in charge of the Methos Chronicles. Which means that..."
"That he'll be coming after me next," Adam finished. "Right. OK, I'll just pack a few things and be out of here in no time."
"Wait. I'm sending someone over to get you. Someone who can protect you."
"Who?" Adam asked warily.
"Macleod."
"Joe! You can't send an Immortal to my apartment! I'm pretty sure that goes against the whole non-interference clause," Adam protested.
"Adam, Kalas has to be stopped. And it would be better if Macleod does it. Right now, we know where Kalas is likely to go. If you leave, then we lose our advantage. Since Kalas killed his Watcher, we have no way of knowing where he is now," Joe patiently explained.
Adam sighed in resignation. He could see Joe's point. The last time the Watchers hunted, Darius was killed. He didn't want something like that to happen again. Darius had been a good friend, even if he was bending the Watcher rules by visiting the Immortal priest. But Darius wasn't in the Game, so a blind eye was turned, and many Watchers had stopped by Darius' church. Many Immortals, too, but Adam had managed to avoid running into them. "OK, Joe. I'll wait for an hour, but then I'm gone. Have you... has anyone called Christine?"
"Yes, she knows. And don't worry, Adam. Macleod is one of the good guys."
Adam grumbled a bit in response before ringing off. As he replaced the phone, he looked about his apartment in bewilderment. Don was dead. First Darius, and now Don. Adam couldn't remember ever feeling so alone. Of course, he couldn't remember anything before the past ten years. And Darius and Don had both been there for him during that time. Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, Adam tried to calm the roiling emotions that he felt trying to escape him. When Darius was killed, Adam had been shocked and frightened by the powerful rage that had threatened to overwhelm him. He had wanted to hunt down the murdering Watchers and kill them painfully and slowly. Somehow, he knew that he had the knowledge to do it, too. Instead, he had barricaded himself in his apartment for days until Don had come and forcibly pulled him out. He shuddered as he remembered those dark days and clamped down hard on the fury that still wanted to rise. Kalas would pay. If Macleod couldn't take the other Immortal, then Adam would just have to make a contingency plan.
-----
ST - Broken (Spock/Kirk) Star Trek: The Original Series
Kirk blinked in shock. For just a moment, he had thought Spock was with him, but that was not true, would never be true again. Spock had left him, and the despair that thought brought was a hundred times worse than that he had felt upon awakening in a Romulan prison cell. Stifling a groan, he pushed himself up to lean against the wall. Nothing had changed since the last time he had looked around his new accomodations--four white walls, no windows, the metal slab attached to the wall upon which he was sitting, and nothing else. He had no doubt that he was being monitored, but as of yet, he had been unable to identify the sensors. Kirk gave a mental shrug, not that it would matter if he could. He wasn't going anywhere.
When the door slid open, Kirk didn't even twitch, just raised his eyes. Three Romulans entered. From their stance, he guessed the lead Romulan was a scientist or doctor of some kind and the other two were his security detail. Arching his eyebrow in an unconscious immitation of Spock, he gave them a mocking smile. "Ah, my charming hosts. I must say, the amenities leave something to be desired," Kirk said, gesturing to his barren cell.
The scientist's eyes narrowed and a cruel smirk formed on his face. "Captain Kirk, I must say I'm a bit disappointed. I expected more from someone with your... legendary reputation."
Kirk sighed and shrugged with his hands held out and empty. "What can I say? What you see is what you get."
"Oh, I somehow doubt that, Captain. I have researched you very thoroughly. Which is why I am surprised that you were part of the rescue mission. The Enterprise is nowhere near Romulan space. Oh, but she isn't your ship anymore, is she?"
Kirk forced himself not to react. That little reminder had been a punch to the gut, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the Romulan know that.
"It doesn't matter. You see, the rescue mission was a success and your poor captured Federation spy is being returned home. But what you do not realize is that he is now an unknowing tool for the Empire."
At this declaration, Kirk straightened up and glared at the Romulan. "You lie!" he hissed.
"Not at all. In fact, very soon, you yourself will also become such a tool. Do you see the irony, Captain?"
"I will never serve you!" Kirk spit out as rage flooded him. "I will die first!"
The Romulan laughed. "Beautiful! A challenge. I do so love a challenge. Come along, Captain, it is time for your first session." The Romulan gestured to the guards and they stepped forward to seize Kirk's arms.
His struggles were no match for Romulan strength, and he practically vibrated with fury and frustration. Hazel eyes burned as he glared at the Romulan. "There is nothing you can do that will force me to betray the Federation." His words were soft, but the will beneath them was not.
"Force you? Captain, when we are through with you, you will gladly do our bidding." With that, the Romulan turned on his heel and exited the cell, the guards dragging Kirk behind him.
Last entry of the day. (I'll stop spamming everyone now...)
LOTR - Hope (undecided) - Lord of the Rings
Galadriel awoke from her reverie and frowned slightly as she tried to determine the cause. There was tension in the air and all was silent... as if the world was holding its breath. And then, as if the spell had broken, sound rushed back and she could faintly hear the sounds of a newborn crying as she Saw the White Tree of Life bear its first new bud in over a thousand years.
"My love?" Celeborn queried quietly.
"He has come," Galadriel stated quietly. "The Heir of Elidian, the Hope of Man, has come to Arda. Our time here shall be coming to an end."
Celeborn stroked her hair. "And do we weep or rejoice?"
"That, I cannot say," Galadriel said and then allowed herself to relax into her husband's embrace.
-----
Harry Potter MPREG (Remus/Severus) - Harry Potter
Poppy stepped through the Floo, her lips pursed in concern. She had been shocked when St. Mungo's had contacted her at her sister's cottage, especially when she discovered the reason why. She walked briskly up to the information desk. "Remus Lupin, please. I am Poppy Pomfrey," she stated.
The somewhat harried looking medi-witch gave her a cursory glance before conjuring a blue will-o-wisp that floated in front of Poppy, stopping about a foot from her nose and blinked impatiently. "Remus Lupin," she stated clearly. The wisp blinked twice more and then began moving down the hallway, stopping about three feet away as it waited for Poppy to catch up.
"Thank you," Poppy said and then strode after the blue wisp.
At her first look at Remus, Poppy was appalled. He'd only been gone from Hogwarts for a scant two months and he already looked as bad, if not worse, as he had at the beginning of the school term. Tutting to herself in displeasure, she approached the bed and immediately began her own scanning. It wasn't that she didn't trust St. Mungo's, but she had been treating Remus since he was eleven years old, so she was positive that she was better qualified to assess his condition. "Remus, Remus, what have you been doing to yourself?" she murmured. She was alarmed both by his pallor and the amount of weight he had lost. Remus had always been on the slender side, but now he was downright gaunt. She gently brushed some unruly strands of tawny hair away from his face. It had grown longer over the summer, and Poppy could almost imagine she was tending the teenage Remus after a difficult full moon once again.
"Madam Pomfrey, I hope?" a voice startled her out of her ruminations and Poppy turned to face the young medi-wizard who was approaching her.
"Yes. I assume you are handling Remus' case?" she asked. At his nod, she continued. "What kind of treatment have you..." Poppy stopped speaking as the results of her scanning spell captured her attention and her eyes widened.
"Ah, I see you have made the same diagnosis that I have," the mediwizard stated with a small smile. "It's unbelievable, isn't it? I had no idea such a thing was possible."
Poppy disregarded his words as she fixed him with a no-nonsense stare that even Albus Dumblebore would be hard-pressed to meet. "Have you spoken of this to anyone?" she demanded.
The mediwizard looked offended. "Of course not! I haven't even spoken with Mr. Lupin, as he has not yet regained consciousness."
"Good. I'm sorry, my dear, but needs must..."
"What...?"
With one fluid motion, Poppy drew her wand and, fixing an image of Remus and his name firmly in her mind, declared, "Obviate!"
The mediwizard's eyes glazed over for an instant, and then he blinked and looked about him in confusion. "Where...?"
Fixing a solicitous expression upon her face, Poppy touched the bewildered man's arm. "You poor dear, you've been working much too hard. Weren't you saying something about it being time for you to take a break?"
"A break? Yes, yes, I do believe a break is in order." The mediwizard gave her a vacant smile and wandered off.
Poppy shook her head. She felt a bit guilty about casting a memory charm on the man for doing his job, but there was no help for it. Now, she needed to get Remus back to Hogwarts and alert Albus before anyone else came into the ward. Luckily, it appeared that Remus was the only patient currently in residence in the isolated werewolf ward. She muttered a quick obscurement charm, just in case anyone happened by, then approached the bed. Happily, Remus' clothes and wand were tucked into the cubbyhole next to the bed, and she placed them on top of his stomach.
Remus thought he heard voices, one of which sounded vaguely familiar. They were just a faint murmur at first, but they became clearer as he struggled to hear what they were saying. Something about a break? With a tremendous force of will, he forced his eyes open and was surprised to see Madam Pomfrey smiling down at him. He blinked. "Poppy?"
"Remus! Thank goodness you're awake! And just in time, too. We need to go. Be a dear and take hold of these spectacles, please," Poppy instructed.
His brow crinkled in confusion, but Remus was accustomed to following Poppy's instruction without asking questions, and this time was no different. With a mental shrug, he did as requested and immediately felt the tug at his naval that signified a port key activating. 'Swell,' he thought, 'I'm sure this will do wonders for my nausea.'
When he opened his eyes again, the familiar sight of the Hogwarts Infirmary swam into view. "Ugh," he said as his stomach heaved, but luckily, there was nothing in his stomach, and he managed to avoid disgracing himself.
"Now, Remus, I want you to lie right back down on that bed and rest. Honestly, you've only been away for two months and look at the state you're in!" Poppy tsked at him.
"Sorry, Poppy. I just picked up some nasty flu bug that I can't seem to shake. I was on my way to get some Pepper Up potion, and the next thing I know I'm waking up and there you are. I'm assuming that was St. Mungo's?" Remus asked as he stumbled over to the bed, still clutching his wand and clothes.
Poppy gave him a strained smile. "Yes, you were in St. Mungo's. They contacted me when you were brought in after collapsing in Diagon Alley. However, you don't have the flu, Remus."
"I don't?" Remus was startled, and then a bit concerned.
"No. You're pregnant," she stated matter-of-factly before striding away toward the floo at the other side of the infirmary.
-----
Harry Potter - Werewolf Slave (Remus/Severus) Harry Potter
Severus nearly groaned aloud when the Dark Mark upon his arm began burning. Albus had called an emergency meeting of the Order early that morning, and now it looked as though his night would be exceptionally long. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh and caught Albus' eye. Once Albus gave him a nod of understanding, he quietly took his leave and stepped outside to apperate.
He was somewhat surprised to find himself appearing in the Malfoy mansion. The Dark Lord didn't often visit the homes of his followers, unless, of course, he wished to claim the residence as his own. Taking a quick head count, he discovered that only Lucius and Wormtail were attending the Dark Lord. Bowing deeply, he made his greeting, "Master."
"Severus, we have a gift for you," Voldemort said, a sinister grin growing upon his face. "Come closer and take a look."
Doing as instructed, Severus began to have a horrifying premonition of just what the gift might be. After all, the Order had spent all day trying to determine the whereabouts of Remus Lupin, who, it seemed, had been purchased before any of the members of the Order had even discovered he'd been put up for sale. The new werewolf laws had caught everyone by surprise, even the two aurors within the ranks. By the time Black and Potter had made it to Azkaban, Remus was already gone. This caused quite a bit of concern all around, not only for the werewolf's well-being, but for the knowledge he had of the Order. Severus, in particular, feared that his cover may have been blown.
As he approached the Dark Lord, Lucius and Wormtail moved back and Severus could see a cloaked figure curled up in a fetal position on the floor. A chain snaked from beneath the cloak to a leash held in Lucius' hands. "A gift, my lord?" Severus questioned softly.
"Yes. Lucius and Wormtail have assured me that you will find this gift most satisfying. I had hoped to question him, as we are all well aware that he was a member of Dumbledore's precious Order of the Phoenix, but it appears that he had an unfortunate encounter with the Dementors."
'Dementors?' Severus thought. He was torn between conflicting emotions of relief and horror. He was relieved that his cover was still intact, but Remus had been... Stepping closer, he jerked back the cloak with a snap of his wrist. Wide amber eyes stared back at him in abject terror, but Remus didn't move a muscle. There was no recognition at all. "Lupin," he sneered, but there was still no response. Just the watchful gaze of prey when a predator was nearby. He tsked in disgust and let the cloak fall back over Lupin's head. Careful to keep his own expression a mixture of loathing and boredom, he looked over at Lucius, who was watching with raised eyebrows.
"Well, Severus? Do you like your gift? We considered just killing it, which is what Wormtail wanted to do, but I remembered how you used to complain bitterly about Potter and his friends tormenting you in school. Now, you can do whatever you want with Lupin, here, the one who 'almost ate you,'" Lucius taunted.
Biting his tongue to keep his words from flaying Lucius alive, Severus instead turned to the Dark Lord. "Thank you, Master, for the most... thoughtful gift."
Voldemort laughed. "Ah, Severus, you always know just what to say, don't you? Lucius." He snapped his fingers. "Give him the collar." When Lucius presented the gleaming silver circlet, Voldemort continued, "The collar is keyed to whoever places it upon the werewolf's neck. Once it is in place, he will be compelled to protect you, obey you, even die for you."
Severus reached out and accepted the circlet, keeping his revulsion for what it represented safely hidden deep within his most powerful mental shields.
"Come now, I wish to see you collar the beast. We did have have a bit of fun with him before you arrived, but I'm quite interested in how he will react to the collar."
Nodding his head to show his compliance with the Dark Lord's wishes, Severus kneeled down and once more removed the cloak from Lupin's head. As before, the werewolf simply stared at him with fear, silent and waiting. Moving slowly, not sure how the werewolf would react, Severus pulled open the simple iron collar that currently adorned Lupin's neck and replaced it with the silver one. There was a soft whimper as the silver contacted the man's skin, and then Severus closed the collar and felt a tingle as the magic activated. Knowing what would please the Dark Lord, Severus immediately stood and ordered the werewolf, "Kneel to your Master, wolf."
-----
Dark of Night (Remus/Severus) - Harry Potter
Remus looked up from the valerian root he was chopping into a fine dust. If he'd been in wolf form, he was sure his hackles would have been raised. Something was about to happen... something bad. He glanced behind him to where James and Sirius were working, and the expressions of studied innocence they presented to him did nothing to reassure. A quick check to the table beside him showed the normal scowling face of Severus Snape, and Remus sighed.
"What is it?" Peter hissed, bringing him back to the potion at hand.
"I'm not sure. Just..." and then Remus caught a whiff of something that didn't belong in their current assignment. His eyes widened as he recognized it. "Oh no, didn't they read chapter six? If that's added now..." he muttered. He was about to turn around and warn his friends of the dangers when the tell-tale sizzle came from Severus' cauldron. Werewolf reflexes took over, and Remus launched himself at the Slytherin. "Get down!" He had a fleeting impression of startled onyx eyes and then the world went white... and then black.
-----
X-Files - 5th (Mulder/Krycek) - X-Files
Alex jerked awake, his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through his body. He was terrified. Grabbing the gun he never let leave his side, he scanned the cabin, trying to identify the source of his distress. There was nothing. Everything was just as it had been when he'd nodded off. His eyes flicked to the bed and he slowly replaced his gun. Mulder was restless, his breath coming in quick pants as he fought against invisible restraints. Rising silently to his feet, Alex moved back over to the bed. He'd left a candle burning in a jar, so he could see that Mulder was screaming silently, tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyes.
Reaching out, Alex grabbed one of the flailing hands, gripping it tightly with his own. Not for the first time, and not the last, either, he cursed the loss of his arm. Unable to soothe Mulder with another hand, he had to rely on his voice. "Mulder. Mulder. Wake up. It's a dream. Mulder... Fox, c'mon don't do this. You need to conserve your strength, not waste it on phantom enemies," Alex scolded gently, trying to keep his voice low and calming. Something must have gotten through, as Mulder suddenly stopped fighting and simply froze, still holding Alex's hand in a death grip.
Breathing heavily, Mulder tried to assess his surroundings. One minute, he'd been fighting against his alien captors, trying to escape from the next round of tests, the light blinding his eyes and restraints being forced on him... and the next he was nearly in the dark and gripping onto someone's hand for dear life. Wait... not just someone's... Alex Krycek's. Mulder sucked in a deep breath as his mind flickered into action. Earlier, he'd dreamed of Alex comforting him, telling him was safe. But maybe it hadn't been a dream. Turning his head, his eyes widened as he stared into worried eyes that stared right back at him.
"See? Nothing scary here, just me," Alex said wryly. "Could you ease up on the grip there? That's the only hand I have."
Still staring, Mulder forced himself to loosen his hold, but couldn't quite make himself release the reassuring grip completely. Hesitently, he slowly brought up his other hand toward Alex's face, wanting to touch him, to verify it was really him. Alex flinched and Mulder froze and then dropped his hand, shuddering as he closed his eyes. He released Alex's hand and turned away, burrowing under the blanket. Well, it was definitely Alex. No one else would have that immediate rejection of Mulder's touch, the instinctual flash of panic, and Mulder had no one to blame but himself.
'Oh, good going, Alex. He reaches out and what happens?' Alex sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. He couldn't believe that he'd flinched. He'd stared down death itself without blinking. Shit. Sighing, Alex placed his hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Mulder, it's not your fault. You just surprised me." There was no response and he removed his hand. "We'll talk about it in the morning," he finally muttered and stumbled back to his bed.
Mulder listened and waited until he heard Alex settle back down, and then opened his eyes once more. He touched his own cheeks, surprised to find the moisture there. And who was he crying for? Himself? Alex? Both of them? He was completely at a loss. For some reason, he was drawn to Alex... had always been drawn to Alex. But before, whenever he'd seen him, it was as if the man triggered some response in his brain and a litany would chant itself in his head--betrayer! murderer! hurt me, hurt Scully, killed father--and it wouldn't stop until Alex was gone once again. Now, however, it was silent. Mulder frowned as whispy memories of someone murmuring to him flickered in his subconscious--something about Alex... It was gone.
Sighing, Mulder closed his eyes again. Just the small amount of movement he had done had left his muscles shaking slightly and used up all of his energy. He wondered how long it had been since he'd found the alien ship. And just what had happened to him? His mind shied away from that question and Mulder could feel a familiar darkness taking over his mind.
-----
Highlander - Amnesia (Methos/Macleod) - Highlander
St. Julian's, Paris, 1985
Darius looked on in horror as the Quickening struck his oldest friend again and again, with no sign of letting up. Some of the stained glass windows had blown out, and even the heavy oak pews had been blown back by the force of Grayson's Quickening, and Darius knew it wasn't because of Grayson's age or power. No, it was the result of a Quickening on Holy Ground, and he could only pray that his friend would survive breaking the rules of the so-called Game. After an eternity of light and noise, the silence that fell in the church felt unnatural. Darius slowly made his way to the fallen form in the middle of the church. Grayson's head and body had been incinerated by the lightning, but the pale form crumpled on the cold, grey stones remained unmarked. The Quickening had healed all of the damage from the fight and its own vicious strikes. Kneeling down, Darius lifted the limp head into his lap, smoothing back the dark hair that skimmed the other's eyebrows. "Methos," he called softly, somewhat reassured at the faint pulse he could feel in the man's neck. When the man did not awaken, Darius let out a soft sigh and carefully lifted him into his arms. "What am I going to do with you?" he whispered as he carried the man farther into the sanctuary and into his own room.
Paris 1995
Joe sighed heavily before starting to dial. Nothing he had to tell the young researcher was going to be welcome. Adam had practically been adopted by Don Salzer, and the news of his mentor's death was going to hit him hard. On top of that, explaining that an Immortal was on his way to his apartment was not likely to overjoy the man, either. For one thing, fraternization between Immortals and Watchers was definitely frowned upon, and for another, Adam was unlikely to appreciate the fact that he was next on Kalas' hit list. Dawson just hoped that Macleod made it to Adam's apartment in time. He was just about to hang up after the fourth ring when a breathless voice answered.
"Pierson."
"Adam, it's Joe Dawson."
"Joe! Are you in Paris? Don will be wanting to set up a poker game. He loves to take your money," Adam gently teased the other man.
"Yeah, I'm in Paris. Listen, Adam, I'm afraid I've some bad news. It's about Don..." Joe began.
"Don? Is he alright? I'm supposed to meet him at the bookstore tomorrow," Adam interrupted, his stomach clenching as a feeling of dread swept over him.
"I'm sorry, Adam. Don is dead."
A quick inhalation of breath was Adam's first response, then he stammered out a denial. "There must be some mistake, Joe. I'm to meet him tomorrow..."
"There's no mistake. I'm really sorry. But listen, Adam, there's more. Don was murdered. By an Immortal. Have you run across the name Kalas in any of your research?"
"Kalas? Yes. But what does that... Are you saying that Kalas killed Don? Why?" Adam asked.
"Kalas is looking for Methos. He captured his Watcher and managed to discover that Don was in charge of the Methos Chronicles. Which means that..."
"That he'll be coming after me next," Adam finished. "Right. OK, I'll just pack a few things and be out of here in no time."
"Wait. I'm sending someone over to get you. Someone who can protect you."
"Who?" Adam asked warily.
"Macleod."
"Joe! You can't send an Immortal to my apartment! I'm pretty sure that goes against the whole non-interference clause," Adam protested.
"Adam, Kalas has to be stopped. And it would be better if Macleod does it. Right now, we know where Kalas is likely to go. If you leave, then we lose our advantage. Since Kalas killed his Watcher, we have no way of knowing where he is now," Joe patiently explained.
Adam sighed in resignation. He could see Joe's point. The last time the Watchers hunted, Darius was killed. He didn't want something like that to happen again. Darius had been a good friend, even if he was bending the Watcher rules by visiting the Immortal priest. But Darius wasn't in the Game, so a blind eye was turned, and many Watchers had stopped by Darius' church. Many Immortals, too, but Adam had managed to avoid running into them. "OK, Joe. I'll wait for an hour, but then I'm gone. Have you... has anyone called Christine?"
"Yes, she knows. And don't worry, Adam. Macleod is one of the good guys."
Adam grumbled a bit in response before ringing off. As he replaced the phone, he looked about his apartment in bewilderment. Don was dead. First Darius, and now Don. Adam couldn't remember ever feeling so alone. Of course, he couldn't remember anything before the past ten years. And Darius and Don had both been there for him during that time. Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, Adam tried to calm the roiling emotions that he felt trying to escape him. When Darius was killed, Adam had been shocked and frightened by the powerful rage that had threatened to overwhelm him. He had wanted to hunt down the murdering Watchers and kill them painfully and slowly. Somehow, he knew that he had the knowledge to do it, too. Instead, he had barricaded himself in his apartment for days until Don had come and forcibly pulled him out. He shuddered as he remembered those dark days and clamped down hard on the fury that still wanted to rise. Kalas would pay. If Macleod couldn't take the other Immortal, then Adam would just have to make a contingency plan.
-----
ST - Broken (Spock/Kirk) Star Trek: The Original Series
Kirk blinked in shock. For just a moment, he had thought Spock was with him, but that was not true, would never be true again. Spock had left him, and the despair that thought brought was a hundred times worse than that he had felt upon awakening in a Romulan prison cell. Stifling a groan, he pushed himself up to lean against the wall. Nothing had changed since the last time he had looked around his new accomodations--four white walls, no windows, the metal slab attached to the wall upon which he was sitting, and nothing else. He had no doubt that he was being monitored, but as of yet, he had been unable to identify the sensors. Kirk gave a mental shrug, not that it would matter if he could. He wasn't going anywhere.
When the door slid open, Kirk didn't even twitch, just raised his eyes. Three Romulans entered. From their stance, he guessed the lead Romulan was a scientist or doctor of some kind and the other two were his security detail. Arching his eyebrow in an unconscious immitation of Spock, he gave them a mocking smile. "Ah, my charming hosts. I must say, the amenities leave something to be desired," Kirk said, gesturing to his barren cell.
The scientist's eyes narrowed and a cruel smirk formed on his face. "Captain Kirk, I must say I'm a bit disappointed. I expected more from someone with your... legendary reputation."
Kirk sighed and shrugged with his hands held out and empty. "What can I say? What you see is what you get."
"Oh, I somehow doubt that, Captain. I have researched you very thoroughly. Which is why I am surprised that you were part of the rescue mission. The Enterprise is nowhere near Romulan space. Oh, but she isn't your ship anymore, is she?"
Kirk forced himself not to react. That little reminder had been a punch to the gut, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the Romulan know that.
"It doesn't matter. You see, the rescue mission was a success and your poor captured Federation spy is being returned home. But what you do not realize is that he is now an unknowing tool for the Empire."
At this declaration, Kirk straightened up and glared at the Romulan. "You lie!" he hissed.
"Not at all. In fact, very soon, you yourself will also become such a tool. Do you see the irony, Captain?"
"I will never serve you!" Kirk spit out as rage flooded him. "I will die first!"
The Romulan laughed. "Beautiful! A challenge. I do so love a challenge. Come along, Captain, it is time for your first session." The Romulan gestured to the guards and they stepped forward to seize Kirk's arms.
His struggles were no match for Romulan strength, and he practically vibrated with fury and frustration. Hazel eyes burned as he glared at the Romulan. "There is nothing you can do that will force me to betray the Federation." His words were soft, but the will beneath them was not.
"Force you? Captain, when we are through with you, you will gladly do our bidding." With that, the Romulan turned on his heel and exited the cell, the guards dragging Kirk behind him.