Becoming Sleepers (7/14)
Title: Fourteen (Questions and Maybes) (7/14)
Series Title: Becoming Sleepers
Rating: R
Title: Fourteen (Questions and Maybes) (7/14)
Series Title: Becoming Sleepers
Author: Cricket
Disclaimer: I’m just playing with Joss’ toys, but I promise to put them back when I’m done.
Rating: R for graphic (Reaver) violence and language
Notes: This is based on stormwolf-dawn7’s Sleepers (alt.version). Even if you decide to skip my story I highly encourage you to read (or re-read) hers.
With a frustrated sigh, River put the lid back onto the heavy box and slumped to the ground, leaning back against it. She rested her head in her hands and rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes. There were just too many and all of them bloody and raw. She couldn’t watch another innocent person be mutilated by the Reaver.
She wondered, not for the first time, if this was even the right thing to do. Maybe she was just supposed to kill it with her mind. She’d never done it before but she was certain she could stop its heart or lungs if she wanted to. Had her doctors intended for her to see it as only a threat that should be dealt with as quickly as possible? She didn’t know the answers to any of these questions.
River had seen enough death, in the Reaver’s mind as well as her own, to know how precious life was and if there was even the slightest chance that humanity still lived inside of this body, she wanted no part in its demise. Her soul was stained enough without adding the Reaver to her body count.
But the question remained whether the man that had once lived in this body even existed anymore. Had he simply died, scared and alone, inside a raging storm of anger and blood thirst? She shivered just thinking about it. She knew all too well what it felt like to lose control of your body and be reduced to the agony of watching as the bodies piled up around you like marionettes with their strings cut. She almost hoped that he had died early on so he hadn’t had to witness the horrific acts his body had committed.
Another thought had occurred to her while digging through the multitude of boxes that she had refused to think about at the time but now found herself unable to suppress. If the human part was still alive somewhere in here, what state would he be in when she found him? Would he even be strong enough to take control of the body again? Was he too emotionally damaged to function any more? The questions piled up but the answers remained elusive.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the person that he might have been. He was a tall man with bright blue eyes and a smile that could melt your heart. She imagined him as having a sunny disposition and always ready with a joke or funny anecdote. Maybe he was a veterinarian, caring for children’s sick pets or maybe an investment banker that liked to smoke cigars with his buddies after work.
Perhaps he had taken dance lessons when he was younger and loved to show off his talent at it. He might dance with her when she found him. Oh, how she missed dancing. She got to a form of dancing here at the academy but she preferred the kind that didn’t involve disarming and incapacitating your partner. If he could dance with her the way she wanted to, she wouldn’t care if he was clumsy or didn’t know the right steps.
She wanted so desperately to talk to someone, anyone, who wasn’t a doctor or one of her guards. They could talk about all they had been through and she would finally have someone to relate to her. She wanted a real person that wanted nothing more than camaraderie and a good conversation instead of someone looking to pick apart her brain to find the best way to use her. She didn’t want to be a tool for them to use, a weapon to yield whenever they felt like it. She wanted to be human again too.
With renewed dedication, River resumed her hunt for the man. All her hopes were riding on his rescue from the briny depths of the Reaver’s mind. She didn’t want to think about what might become of her if she failed, so she focused all her energy on the best way to accomplish her goal.
She stepped back from the pile of boxes and re-assessed the situation. As her eyes scanned the room she saw a shadowy area off to her left. It was as if an overhead light had broken and left a perfect circle of gloom. She squinted into the darkness and saw a vague square outline. Cautiously approaching the area, she tried to quell the overwhelming urge to claim a premature victory. There were two boxes lying in the shadow, one stacked neatly on top of the other as if they had been pushed to the side and promptly forgotten. Full of anticipation she reached out for the first box.
< Previous: chapter 6: Sixteen (Miranda) | Next: chapter 8: Twelve (White)>
Series Title: Becoming Sleepers
Rating: R
Title: Fourteen (Questions and Maybes) (7/14)
Series Title: Becoming Sleepers
Author: Cricket
Disclaimer: I’m just playing with Joss’ toys, but I promise to put them back when I’m done.
Rating: R for graphic (Reaver) violence and language
Notes: This is based on stormwolf-dawn7’s Sleepers (alt.version). Even if you decide to skip my story I highly encourage you to read (or re-read) hers.
With a frustrated sigh, River put the lid back onto the heavy box and slumped to the ground, leaning back against it. She rested her head in her hands and rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes. There were just too many and all of them bloody and raw. She couldn’t watch another innocent person be mutilated by the Reaver.
She wondered, not for the first time, if this was even the right thing to do. Maybe she was just supposed to kill it with her mind. She’d never done it before but she was certain she could stop its heart or lungs if she wanted to. Had her doctors intended for her to see it as only a threat that should be dealt with as quickly as possible? She didn’t know the answers to any of these questions.
River had seen enough death, in the Reaver’s mind as well as her own, to know how precious life was and if there was even the slightest chance that humanity still lived inside of this body, she wanted no part in its demise. Her soul was stained enough without adding the Reaver to her body count.
But the question remained whether the man that had once lived in this body even existed anymore. Had he simply died, scared and alone, inside a raging storm of anger and blood thirst? She shivered just thinking about it. She knew all too well what it felt like to lose control of your body and be reduced to the agony of watching as the bodies piled up around you like marionettes with their strings cut. She almost hoped that he had died early on so he hadn’t had to witness the horrific acts his body had committed.
Another thought had occurred to her while digging through the multitude of boxes that she had refused to think about at the time but now found herself unable to suppress. If the human part was still alive somewhere in here, what state would he be in when she found him? Would he even be strong enough to take control of the body again? Was he too emotionally damaged to function any more? The questions piled up but the answers remained elusive.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the person that he might have been. He was a tall man with bright blue eyes and a smile that could melt your heart. She imagined him as having a sunny disposition and always ready with a joke or funny anecdote. Maybe he was a veterinarian, caring for children’s sick pets or maybe an investment banker that liked to smoke cigars with his buddies after work.
Perhaps he had taken dance lessons when he was younger and loved to show off his talent at it. He might dance with her when she found him. Oh, how she missed dancing. She got to a form of dancing here at the academy but she preferred the kind that didn’t involve disarming and incapacitating your partner. If he could dance with her the way she wanted to, she wouldn’t care if he was clumsy or didn’t know the right steps.
She wanted so desperately to talk to someone, anyone, who wasn’t a doctor or one of her guards. They could talk about all they had been through and she would finally have someone to relate to her. She wanted a real person that wanted nothing more than camaraderie and a good conversation instead of someone looking to pick apart her brain to find the best way to use her. She didn’t want to be a tool for them to use, a weapon to yield whenever they felt like it. She wanted to be human again too.
With renewed dedication, River resumed her hunt for the man. All her hopes were riding on his rescue from the briny depths of the Reaver’s mind. She didn’t want to think about what might become of her if she failed, so she focused all her energy on the best way to accomplish her goal.
She stepped back from the pile of boxes and re-assessed the situation. As her eyes scanned the room she saw a shadowy area off to her left. It was as if an overhead light had broken and left a perfect circle of gloom. She squinted into the darkness and saw a vague square outline. Cautiously approaching the area, she tried to quell the overwhelming urge to claim a premature victory. There were two boxes lying in the shadow, one stacked neatly on top of the other as if they had been pushed to the side and promptly forgotten. Full of anticipation she reached out for the first box.
< Previous: chapter 6: Sixteen (Miranda) | Next: chapter 8: Twelve (White)>