Beautifully Broken: Chapter Three (part one)
Title: Beautifully Broken
Author: E.E. Kelley
Summary: Without Christopher to keep him hidden, Wikus was quickly found by the MNU and forced back into captivity. The transformation too far along, there was little the officers could do but allow it to complete itself. Yet, even after he has become fully Prawn, they keep him around, determined to use his existence to find a way to use the alien weaponry. When Christopher returns in three years time, he returns to find the shell of the man he left. Will he be able to fix him before leaving with his people once more or will he have to take the broken soul with him?
Rating: R+
Pairings: Christopher/Wikus + CJ adorableness
A/N: There was a problem with my computer that wouldn't allow for me to transfer anything from a text document to livejournal without some serious screw-ups! That said, I'm resuming original plans -- there will be daily posts for fifteen days, it is just now extended beyond the first of the year. Sorry once again!
Short chapter today since tomorrow's is rather long and they were supposed to be one chapter.
Chapter Three (part one)
Part One
i.
He stared at the wall, tracing blood stains that shattered any illusion of perfect sterility in the department head -- blotchy face's -- laboratory. Wikus tried to figure out what the pink stains looked like as he lay strapped to the table -- it had become his cloud watching lately -- but all he could see lately was his Angel's face. Even in the dirty smears of a holding cells filth, he saw Tania. She deserved better, deserved to be seen in the clouds, in the sky, but lately it didn't seem to matter: Wikus saw his wife everywhere.
The experiments had become routine over the last couple months or so. Hell, even meals had. Grant it, they only came once a week, but it was always after his visit to the blotchy faced scientist's lab where he lay now. Wikus tried to think about that: think about hunger pains numbed a bit when he got back to his cell. He didn't focus on where the food was coming from -- pretended he was really in prison and they would deliver the tray through a hole in the door. He released a sigh he hadn't realized was being held, letting himself relax a little.
Noticing, one of the soldiers who had been standing guard in the room's far corner grinned wide. "Looks like the prawn's enjoying himself." he leered, teeth yellow. "Told you they're like mutts. All ya' really got to do is know how to condition them. LIke that one dude -- whatshisface -- Pavelove something."
"Ivan Pavlov." blotchy face spoke slowly. "And yes, that is the idea." he was putting on gloves that covered up half his arms in a fine latex and a white smock that went down to the plump mans knees. Wikus shuttered, knowing that whenever the scientists wore these uniforms, they were preparing for some of their more grisly tests. "Though, it seems as if we still have a ways to go as far as some other stimulation's are concerned."
Blotchy face's assistant, the young doctor who had wheeled his gurney to cell the first week, nodded and checked something off on her chart before moving beside the metal table Wikus was strapped to. She checked the metal bindings that held his limbs in place before moving to do the same with a tray of surgical instruments. When every handle of every scalpel was perfectly polished the young woman nodded to her supervisor.
"We're ready to proceed then?" he asked and she nodded, moving back to allow the man's substantial girth next to the table.
"We'll be finishing up the tests on it's reproductive system today." he said in a bored tone, "Hopefully after that we can move onto more exploratory tests that will allow for more thorough results. Better results for the chair ad his weapons program.
Wikus shuttered and the man noticed.
"Nikki," he called to the young doctor, "would you mind giving the alien a sight sedative. Nothing to knock it out, just impair movement slightly."
She nodded and stuck Wikus in his soft neck tissue with a needle twice as long as a pencil. He shuttered at the sting, but that faded fast. Soon he was barely there, not quite certain of what was going on around him. He watched the Tania-shaped stain on the ceiling, pretending it was a photograph and his gaze was merely blurred from sleep.
"Proceed." the scientist said, motioning to the cart of tools. Wikus almost gasped, though, when the young doctor didn't reach for any of the traditional surgical utensils, but instead opened a small door near the cart's bottom and took out something long and dangerous looking.
She carried what appeared to be a massive beaker, the length of a human arm and half the width, advancing on Wikus, moving in the places obscured by his tied-down position. One of the soldiers laughed in the background, and only when Wikus felt the tube moving against his thighs did he begin to panic. When the tube moved between his legs and towards the soft parts where plates met, Wikus let out a pained chirp.
"Sounds like the bug's enjoying itself!" the far-off soldier cackled. Wikus' vision was going red, spotted with white. He tried to (focus) on the thought of his wife, of her in his arms. "See what happens when you push deeper."
"I'll take control," blotchy-face grunts as if to saw the other mans opinions were reasonable but only out of blind luck. "you monitor and keep excessive notes. I don't want to have to do this again tomorrow."
Wikus tried not to feel, tried not to think, but even with the sedative and gnawing hunger, he couldn't help but cry out at every sudden movement. Something sharp had advanced from the tip of the tube and was cutting through his insides. The lead scientist maneuvered the instrument careful, carve him like a turkey.
When the huge whale of a man connected a wire to the end of the tube and flicked a switch, Wikus nearly cried out full force. "Nurse, please make sure the bindings are tightened. " he spoke without emotion.
WIkus whimpered when the doctor flicked a switch and suction began to play about his insides, warping and pulling at the wounds the man had inflicted.
He then, passed out. When finally he came to again, the pig in his cell had already bled to death. He ate his meat slowly, not able to move without pain from the inside out. The next day, he found himself strapped to the table again. Apparently the young doctor, Nikki, hadn't prepped something quite right and the entire ordeal had to be done over again. This time, Wikus didn't try to hold back his cries of pain.
ii.
Wikus' Father in Law hadn't passed the cell again in nearly nine months. Wikus didn't expect him to. Piet Smite never was the type of person to dirty his own hands. Sure he had no problem sending others on more than questionably moral actions, but the man was smart, pragmatic and manipulative. He worked the system so that if there ever was some mass uprising of alien support, no prosecutor would touch him with a ten-foot pole. Hell, they couldn't pin him on anything even if they wanted to! Sure, the records weren't exactly hidden well, but that didn't mean his name was on any of the papers. They were all labeled "Official" and "Confirmed Orders", but there was never a signature, never a connection. Piet Smit had worked the system -- fuck, he'd made the system and it worked for him!
So, when the man walked down the too-brightly lit hallway with a clipboard in his very own hands, WIkus couldn't help but give a surprised click at seeing him come. Scrambling up, he nearly lost his footing on the floor, damp with pig's blood still, carcass discarded and half-devoured on the far side of the cell. What astounded him even more, was that Piet wasn't walking down the hallway, but towards Wikus' cage. The man was coming to him.
When Piet stood in front of Wikus cell, flipping through charts that he could only assume were a list of the experiments and detailed results, Wikus remained absolutely still. He was shell shocked, not sure what to do, if he should do anything. Only his antenna swiveled, unconsciously trying to make sense of the mans scent, of his motives. Only when the clipboard was lowered and Piet's dark eyes were surveying him like an animal to be studied did Wikus move forward, towards the electric current and glass.
"Lasted quite a long time, didn't you?" he said curtly, the malice hidden beneath layers of disconcert. "Honestly, I didn't expect you to. I mean, to be perfectly honest, you were never exactly the tough-type, Wikus."
At his name, Wikus was almost buzzing. He hadn't heard it in so long, half forgot that it was his. "Y-you." he clicked awkwardly, having trouble shaping words with no practice. "How-w co-uld you."
"What, Wikus? You mean this?" he motioned around as though taking in the entirety of the MNU building, "It's call progress, Wikus! That's what we're all about, what the MNU is doing! It's what we've been about all along--not that you would have ever realize that. Christ, the only reason you even got a job as good as you did was because you married my daughter! I mean, you weren't exactly ever the best or brightest."
"Tan-ia..." his tried with clumsy success. The word, a single word, sparked so much. His mind raced, drenched him with rage and with sorrow.
"What about her?" Piet shrugged as if Wikus had asked what time it was.
"Wan--t to seee h-er." he formed the words slowly, carefully as if his life depended on them. "Tania."
Piet cracked a grin, something dark seeping through his expression, making Wikus cringe. "For once, we're in complete agreement." WIkus just stared, watching the man as if he weren't real. Before he could utter another broken phrase, though, the MNU Director cut in.
"You're going to see my daughter again. I want her to finally be able to let go. She mourned like the good woman and wife she is, but it's been too long. She needs to be done with this, move on." he picked up his clipboard again, "She needs to see the monster you are now and let go of the notion that the man she married will ever come back. Now, if you don't mind, I'll leave you to the men in white. Expect me tomorrow with company."
Author: E.E. Kelley
Summary: Without Christopher to keep him hidden, Wikus was quickly found by the MNU and forced back into captivity. The transformation too far along, there was little the officers could do but allow it to complete itself. Yet, even after he has become fully Prawn, they keep him around, determined to use his existence to find a way to use the alien weaponry. When Christopher returns in three years time, he returns to find the shell of the man he left. Will he be able to fix him before leaving with his people once more or will he have to take the broken soul with him?
Rating: R+
Pairings: Christopher/Wikus + CJ adorableness
A/N: There was a problem with my computer that wouldn't allow for me to transfer anything from a text document to livejournal without some serious screw-ups! That said, I'm resuming original plans -- there will be daily posts for fifteen days, it is just now extended beyond the first of the year. Sorry once again!
Short chapter today since tomorrow's is rather long and they were supposed to be one chapter.
Chapter Three (part one)
Part One
i.
He stared at the wall, tracing blood stains that shattered any illusion of perfect sterility in the department head -- blotchy face's -- laboratory. Wikus tried to figure out what the pink stains looked like as he lay strapped to the table -- it had become his cloud watching lately -- but all he could see lately was his Angel's face. Even in the dirty smears of a holding cells filth, he saw Tania. She deserved better, deserved to be seen in the clouds, in the sky, but lately it didn't seem to matter: Wikus saw his wife everywhere.
The experiments had become routine over the last couple months or so. Hell, even meals had. Grant it, they only came once a week, but it was always after his visit to the blotchy faced scientist's lab where he lay now. Wikus tried to think about that: think about hunger pains numbed a bit when he got back to his cell. He didn't focus on where the food was coming from -- pretended he was really in prison and they would deliver the tray through a hole in the door. He released a sigh he hadn't realized was being held, letting himself relax a little.
Noticing, one of the soldiers who had been standing guard in the room's far corner grinned wide. "Looks like the prawn's enjoying himself." he leered, teeth yellow. "Told you they're like mutts. All ya' really got to do is know how to condition them. LIke that one dude -- whatshisface -- Pavelove something."
"Ivan Pavlov." blotchy face spoke slowly. "And yes, that is the idea." he was putting on gloves that covered up half his arms in a fine latex and a white smock that went down to the plump mans knees. Wikus shuttered, knowing that whenever the scientists wore these uniforms, they were preparing for some of their more grisly tests. "Though, it seems as if we still have a ways to go as far as some other stimulation's are concerned."
Blotchy face's assistant, the young doctor who had wheeled his gurney to cell the first week, nodded and checked something off on her chart before moving beside the metal table Wikus was strapped to. She checked the metal bindings that held his limbs in place before moving to do the same with a tray of surgical instruments. When every handle of every scalpel was perfectly polished the young woman nodded to her supervisor.
"We're ready to proceed then?" he asked and she nodded, moving back to allow the man's substantial girth next to the table.
"We'll be finishing up the tests on it's reproductive system today." he said in a bored tone, "Hopefully after that we can move onto more exploratory tests that will allow for more thorough results. Better results for the chair ad his weapons program.
Wikus shuttered and the man noticed.
"Nikki," he called to the young doctor, "would you mind giving the alien a sight sedative. Nothing to knock it out, just impair movement slightly."
She nodded and stuck Wikus in his soft neck tissue with a needle twice as long as a pencil. He shuttered at the sting, but that faded fast. Soon he was barely there, not quite certain of what was going on around him. He watched the Tania-shaped stain on the ceiling, pretending it was a photograph and his gaze was merely blurred from sleep.
"Proceed." the scientist said, motioning to the cart of tools. Wikus almost gasped, though, when the young doctor didn't reach for any of the traditional surgical utensils, but instead opened a small door near the cart's bottom and took out something long and dangerous looking.
She carried what appeared to be a massive beaker, the length of a human arm and half the width, advancing on Wikus, moving in the places obscured by his tied-down position. One of the soldiers laughed in the background, and only when Wikus felt the tube moving against his thighs did he begin to panic. When the tube moved between his legs and towards the soft parts where plates met, Wikus let out a pained chirp.
"Sounds like the bug's enjoying itself!" the far-off soldier cackled. Wikus' vision was going red, spotted with white. He tried to (focus) on the thought of his wife, of her in his arms. "See what happens when you push deeper."
"I'll take control," blotchy-face grunts as if to saw the other mans opinions were reasonable but only out of blind luck. "you monitor and keep excessive notes. I don't want to have to do this again tomorrow."
Wikus tried not to feel, tried not to think, but even with the sedative and gnawing hunger, he couldn't help but cry out at every sudden movement. Something sharp had advanced from the tip of the tube and was cutting through his insides. The lead scientist maneuvered the instrument careful, carve him like a turkey.
When the huge whale of a man connected a wire to the end of the tube and flicked a switch, Wikus nearly cried out full force. "Nurse, please make sure the bindings are tightened. " he spoke without emotion.
WIkus whimpered when the doctor flicked a switch and suction began to play about his insides, warping and pulling at the wounds the man had inflicted.
He then, passed out. When finally he came to again, the pig in his cell had already bled to death. He ate his meat slowly, not able to move without pain from the inside out. The next day, he found himself strapped to the table again. Apparently the young doctor, Nikki, hadn't prepped something quite right and the entire ordeal had to be done over again. This time, Wikus didn't try to hold back his cries of pain.
ii.
Wikus' Father in Law hadn't passed the cell again in nearly nine months. Wikus didn't expect him to. Piet Smite never was the type of person to dirty his own hands. Sure he had no problem sending others on more than questionably moral actions, but the man was smart, pragmatic and manipulative. He worked the system so that if there ever was some mass uprising of alien support, no prosecutor would touch him with a ten-foot pole. Hell, they couldn't pin him on anything even if they wanted to! Sure, the records weren't exactly hidden well, but that didn't mean his name was on any of the papers. They were all labeled "Official" and "Confirmed Orders", but there was never a signature, never a connection. Piet Smit had worked the system -- fuck, he'd made the system and it worked for him!
So, when the man walked down the too-brightly lit hallway with a clipboard in his very own hands, WIkus couldn't help but give a surprised click at seeing him come. Scrambling up, he nearly lost his footing on the floor, damp with pig's blood still, carcass discarded and half-devoured on the far side of the cell. What astounded him even more, was that Piet wasn't walking down the hallway, but towards Wikus' cage. The man was coming to him.
When Piet stood in front of Wikus cell, flipping through charts that he could only assume were a list of the experiments and detailed results, Wikus remained absolutely still. He was shell shocked, not sure what to do, if he should do anything. Only his antenna swiveled, unconsciously trying to make sense of the mans scent, of his motives. Only when the clipboard was lowered and Piet's dark eyes were surveying him like an animal to be studied did Wikus move forward, towards the electric current and glass.
"Lasted quite a long time, didn't you?" he said curtly, the malice hidden beneath layers of disconcert. "Honestly, I didn't expect you to. I mean, to be perfectly honest, you were never exactly the tough-type, Wikus."
At his name, Wikus was almost buzzing. He hadn't heard it in so long, half forgot that it was his. "Y-you." he clicked awkwardly, having trouble shaping words with no practice. "How-w co-uld you."
"What, Wikus? You mean this?" he motioned around as though taking in the entirety of the MNU building, "It's call progress, Wikus! That's what we're all about, what the MNU is doing! It's what we've been about all along--not that you would have ever realize that. Christ, the only reason you even got a job as good as you did was because you married my daughter! I mean, you weren't exactly ever the best or brightest."
"Tan-ia..." his tried with clumsy success. The word, a single word, sparked so much. His mind raced, drenched him with rage and with sorrow.
"What about her?" Piet shrugged as if Wikus had asked what time it was.
"Wan--t to seee h-er." he formed the words slowly, carefully as if his life depended on them. "Tania."
Piet cracked a grin, something dark seeping through his expression, making Wikus cringe. "For once, we're in complete agreement." WIkus just stared, watching the man as if he weren't real. Before he could utter another broken phrase, though, the MNU Director cut in.
"You're going to see my daughter again. I want her to finally be able to let go. She mourned like the good woman and wife she is, but it's been too long. She needs to be done with this, move on." he picked up his clipboard again, "She needs to see the monster you are now and let go of the notion that the man she married will ever come back. Now, if you don't mind, I'll leave you to the men in white. Expect me tomorrow with company."