Bête Noire - Chapter Seven
So, after nearly two years of ignoring this story, in an attempt to keep myself sane during my finals week, I've decided to ressurect this slightly dead story. I'm...um, sorry about the delay, though I suppose at this point "delay" is sort of an understatement.
Title: Bête Noire (7)
Summary: The lives of two geniuses, overlapping and falling apart.
Warnings: None, really.
Fandoms: Dollhouse/Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog
Characters: Topher Brink and Billy
Spoilers: A few for Omega.
Author's Note: Again, I'm sorry for the two year long delay. This chapter just features Billy. Well, and Moist.
“The rebel can never find peace. He knows what is good and, despite himself, does evil. The value which supports him is never given to him once and for all”
- Albert Camus
Billy was in his lab. It was night, long after any civilized person should have been awake. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a wreck, but he couldn’t sleep. His mind wouldn’t let him. He mind was busy at work, buzzed on the energy of a Red Bull and an idea, unable to stop. He knew it would remain in motion until his idea was seen through, no matter how terrifying it may or may not be. He knew his mind well, and there moments, such as these, when he truly detested it.
Topher’s depiction of the Dollhouse had fascinated him, and when he’d gotten him to discuss the actual science behind it, it had only gotten worse. His brain had churned with ideas and theories, even as they continued talking about pizza toppings and the new season of Lost. Nothing made it past his mind until he was alone. Topher wanted to remain grey, and Billy’s mind was clearly firmly in the dark. His friend had created technology with terrifying possibilities, and for some reason, for the moment, only Billy could see every one of them.
And he was plagued by them.
As the night stretched on and he became less and less aware of what he was doing and more and more aware of the fact that he was still doing it, he started to wonder if he was finally losing it. It wouldn’t be unprecedented, he was a mad scientist, after all. Madness was implied in the title. He was sort of hoping he could onto his sanity till got into the league, but then, plenty of famous supervillains were insane and they got on just fine.
He looked down at the device in his hand and for probably the first time that night, he became really aware of what he was doing. He dropped his tools, and took a step back. He had to be insane, no sane person would ever conceive of this, let alone go and create it in their own apartment.
This was bad. This was…this was very bad.
To test just how bad it was, he did something possible even more insane than creating it. He sent it to Bad Horse.
Well, sort of. He stuck the unfinished prototype and a few of his notes into a box and anonymously sent it to the ELE. It wasn’t enough that they could really do anything with, but enough to make it clear what it was he was doing and just how possible it was to create.
A few weeks later, the package was returned with a letter from Bad Horse himself taped to the outside.
Dear Mr. Anonymous,
Do not show this to anyone ever again. The ELE is willing to provide payment and acceptance into the league in exchange for an oath to never finish these plans. If evidence shows that you are indeed continuing with your work, rest assured that I will personally find you and kill you in the most painful way I can possibly conceive of. I urgently await your response.
Sincerely,
Bad Horse, The Thoroughbred of Sin
He had been right. Even Bad Horse was afraid of this technology and had been willing to bribe and kill rather than allow it to come to fruition. Billy had managed to create the one thing that everyone, the ELE, Bad Horse, and even himself was desperately afraid of. It was possibly the most heinous invention in all of human history, and it was his creation.
The plans could never leave the lab.
He wrote to the ELE and told them he understood the conditions, agreed with them, but was not interested in membership in the league. As long as he stopped working on it and stayed quiet about it, they would have no reason to connect the plans to him, and he could continue working his way up in the ranks of supervillainy as he had before. He didn’t want to join the ELE right now, not like this. He didn’t want to be connected to this. Not now, not ever.
At least he knew he deserved to get in now.
He threw the plans and the prototype deep in the back of a closet he never used and made a mental note to burn them as soon as he got a full night’s sleep. Hopefully, the calculating, creative side of his mind connect with the purely rational side and realize that this was not something he should ever be working on. Hopefully, for the first time in weeks, his mind would actually let him sleep.
He should be so lucky. As he lay in bed, desperately trying to calm himself down, his mind refused to stop working.
Within a few hours, he was up in his lab again, trying desperately not to build what was in his mind. He paced, he tried reading, tried working on another harmless ray, tried curing the common cold, but in a moment just ended up pacing again.
Somewhere around two, Moist walked in.
“Dude, are you still up?” he asked. Billy looked up, but kept pacing.
“I can’t sleep,” he said, “too many things on my mind.”
“You haven’t slept in days,” said Moist, “Whatever’s on your mind can probably wait.”
“It can’t,” said Billy, changing directions for a bit of variety. “I’ve…I’ve kind of found a way to destroy the world.”
“What?” Moist pulled a stool over and sat down, clearly not sure whether to be concerned or excited, “Is that good?” he finally asked.
“No,” said Billy, “It’s not. It’s bad, actually, really bad. Like…as bad as bad can get with…um, more bad in it.”
“Ok,” said Moist, “So are we talking world domination here, like, have you figured out how to do it, but you’re not sure if you’re ready? Because I’m pretty sure taking over the world can wait till you’re at least thirty…”
“No, it’s not that,” said Billy “I haven’t discovered a way to take over and change society, I found a way to destroy it, to murder the foundation of civilization itself.”
“Well that’s great,” said Moist, “It’s what you’ve always talked about, right? Chaos, destroying the status quo, breaking down the established order and all that.”
“Yeah, but not like this.” Billy stopped pacing and sighed, “This isn’t how I wanted my rise to power to go, this is…too much. If you could understand the gravity of what I’ve done, you’d agree with me. I wish Topher were here.”
“Because he’d get it?”
“Yes.” Billy slumped back into his oversized orange chair across from Moist, “Topher would take one look at those plans and realize how horrible they are. Bad Horse is afraid of them.”
“Well, look,” said Moist, bitterly, “I may not be a genius like Topher, or you, or anyone else around me lately, but I know a few things about this situation, and he fact is, Doc, that you finally have the means to succeed over everyone you’ve ever fought against and apparently, Bad Horse, and you’re too scared to go through with it.”
“No, that’s not it,” said Billy, “It’s not just domination, it’s annihilation, it’s the end of everything.”
“Is it a bomb?” asked Moist, “Will it instantly kill, like every living thing on Earth?”
“Well, no, but - “
“Then why is this a problem? Doc…you know I have faith in you, but sometimes I wonder…”
“What?” asked Billy, “If I can handle this? If I have what it takes?”
“You’ve created a Doomsday device you won’t use,” said Moist, “You’re supposed to be a supervillain. Do you know how many hardcore bad guys would kill to be in your position right now?”
“This is worse than that, this is...this is horrible.”
“You’re horrible.”
“I know.” Said Billy, exasperated, “but this is worse. This goes beyond bank robberies and evil schemes. This is real evil. This is terror.”
“This sounds exactly like what you’re always talking about,” Moist sighed, “Look, I don’ know what your problem is. You’re, like, my best friend even if I’m not yours, and I’m totally willing to follow you into whatever you’ve got planned, but sometimes I wonder if you’ve really got anything planned. I know you talk a lot about anarchy and society, but all you seem to want to do is go on heists and make toy guns.”
“Rays aren’t toys.”
“Yours are,” said Moist, “The second you’re actually confronted with your own views, you can’t go through with it. You create all these rules and limits about what’s evil and what’s too evil. I think if you want to actually get anything done, you can’t have limits.”
“I have to” said Billy, “Limits and views give you purpose. Purpose makes you stand out and let you achieve the end you’re getting to.
“Except the end you’re trying to get to is chaos,” said Moist, “You’re giving yourself rules to follow while you struggle to get rid of rules. I mean…can you do this, man? Are you really cut out for this?”
Billy’s face fell. “I don’t know.”
There was a long, painful silence between them. Moist wasn’t sure what to say, and Billy didn’t really have anything to add. He had chosen the path of evil years ago, in his mind he didn’t really have a choice. He had never really been sure how he was going to do it, or even what exactly it was that he was going to do, he just knew it would happen. The world would change under his hand and when it did, he would know he was right.
Deep down, Moist could see that.
He sighed. “You can pull it off, Doc,” he said, after a moment, “It’s weird sometimes you wanting to be evil for the betterment of humanity, or something, but, you know for you, it kind of works.”
“Thanks,” said Billy, quietly.
“I’m serious,” said Moist, “I…I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Whatever this is, it’s obviously bugging you, and scaring, apparently, and you would kind of know better than I would what’s really, really wrong. I’m sorry.”
“No,” said Billy, “You’re right. You made a log of good points. I guess, I’m just not ready to be that ruthless yet.”
“But you’ll get there” said Moist, “Dude, you’re Dr. Horrible. Right now you might just rob banks and blow up parking meters, but someday people will be terrified of you. Like really, honestly terrified. Trust me.”
“I hope so,” said Billy, “because right now, it doesn’t seem likely.”
“You should get some sleep,” said Moist, standing up and turning towards the door to the lab, “Or at least, try.”
“I’ll try,” said Billy, getting up to go for the millionth time that night, “I can’t guarantee anything.”
Somewhere far away from the lab and the apartment, a man sat listening to what was going on. The apartment feed had had so much excitement lately. For so long it had just been the doctor and his assistant, planning petty robberies and watching Dexter, but between his recent anguish, his friend from the Rossum Corporation, and his conversation with the sweaty, usually boring henchman, things were becoming as intriguing as they had been at the beginning. He was spotting the interest, the potential he had seen when he’d first started shadowing the guy.
And now that work was about to pay off. Everything was about to go down. He took yet another sip of stolen scotch.
Everything was coming into place.