In that all-too familiar setting that has completely dominated the greater part of this game (we're sorry about that), Sark has gotten desperate... ( ...... )
And Thane, who isn't in the mood for anyone, let alone bitch little angel-girls who have mocked him since the beginning and should have been broken to bits by now. He lets her talk only until he can cross the floor to her and hit her in the face, hard.
And then he doesn't care about keeping her alive as an exhibition, or making the Doctor watch this, or anything but violence, and he keeps hitting after her body goes limp. Face, chest, stomach, anything, it's just meat and his fists and his anger and him on his knees to stay with her until he comes back to his eyes and realizes that there's blood on his hands and his breathing is ragged and oh, fuck, oh, fuck, he's losing it. Like he hasn't lost it since Basic, like he didn't even lose it then, he's fucked-up and tearing the universe down with his own two hands around him and what happened to seven years of focus and one perfect goal?
He steps back, staggers back, activates his wristband. She's alive. Barely. Not going to be soon unless he fixes things, and when has he been the one to fix things? She needs a doctor, not the Doctor, but a common one for ruptured flesh and broken bones, and he's not going to surrender to this.
He punches something into the wristband - there are hospitals aplenty around here - and teleports away. Two now very silent rooms lie behind him.
And then he doesn't care about keeping her alive as an exhibition, or making the Doctor watch this, or anything but violence, and he keeps hitting after her body goes limp. Face, chest, stomach, anything, it's just meat and his fists and his anger and him on his knees to stay with her until he comes back to his eyes and realizes that there's blood on his hands and his breathing is ragged and oh, fuck, oh, fuck, he's losing it. Like he hasn't lost it since Basic, like he didn't even lose it then, he's fucked-up and tearing the universe down with his own two hands around him and what happened to seven years of focus and one perfect goal?
He steps back, staggers back, activates his wristband. She's alive. Barely. Not going to be soon unless he fixes things, and when has he been the one to fix things? She needs a doctor, not the Doctor, but a common one for ruptured flesh and broken bones, and he's not going to surrender to this.
He punches something into the wristband - there are hospitals aplenty around here - and teleports away. Two now very silent rooms lie behind him.
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