Dollhouse fic - If You Forget Me; pg-13
Title: If You Forget Me
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, sorreh.
Words: 635 (I don't know how to write drabbles and that's coming from someone who's currently suffering from writer's block. Sorreh again)
Spoilers: Up to 2x01
Notes: written for the Sweet Drabblethon, for sunney
Prompt: DeWitt/Dominic- elevator, secret, unravel, moment
I apologize in advance for the mistakes. Also: inspired by a fic by blackmamba_esq
The elevator hums quietly as it slowly brings her up to her office. She sighs and closes her eyes. The problems are piling up on her House and even if she doesn’t want to admit it, it’s getting quite unbearable.
She’s exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. And part of her wants to stop - stop working, stop thinking, stop living - and just sleep. Sleep until everything is all right once again.
“And then there’s part of you that wants to unravel the secrets of the universe.” A sardonic voice says, “Am I right, Ms. DeWitt?”
Adelle keeps her eyes shut. Oh yes, and there’s that. Something else she also wants to stop.
“I don’t want to sound like an ass, since you have a new Head of Security and all, but how are you planning to fix the problems you’re facing? Ballard’s in the fold, one of the Actives had managed to escape and your favorite Active seems to be glitching more often than before.”
She lifts her head up and glances to her side. He’s standing beside her, looking straight ahead with his hands behind his back. And, as usual, he’s in a suit. Every time she sees him, he’s always in a suit, even when she’s at home, on her bed, in her kitchen or in her bathroom. Always in a suit, always impeccably-dressed.
She turns away. This is the main reason why she’s exhausted. She keeps herself working day in and out to prevent this moment from happening. Whenever she thinks about how tired she is, whenever she thinks about how terrible the day has been, he suddenly appears out of nowhere- mocking her, taunting her.
Maybe… maybe she should talk to someone about this.
“And who will you talk to? Therapists hired by Rossum? A doll imprinted with a composite of all the best psychiatrists in the entire planet? Topher?” he scoffs and she feels him look at her, “They’ll think you’re crazy, ma’am. And you don’t want that to happen.”
She looks at him, sharply. He isn’t real. She knows he isn’t real. And yet everything about her imaginary friend feels right. His presence both soothes her and terrifies her.
Maybe… maybe she is crazy.
“You’re not.” He says. His shoulders brush against hers as he moves to face her, “Crazy. When was the last time you slept through the night?”
His bright blue eyes pierce through her. Something starts to sting in her eyes. She forgets, sometimes. She forgets that he was an NSA agent sent to spy on the corporation; she forgets that she sent him to the Attic; and she forgets that he’s not by her side anymore. It’s so easy to forget. Because of this… hallucination.
“What will it take for me to stop seeing you?” she asks, finally. Her voice breaks slightly, “What will it take for you to stop appearing to me?”
He stares at her. She holds his gaze. If this doesn’t stop, she knows she’ll go mad.
“When you tell me to leave you alone, I’ll leave you alone.”
She misses him. Terribly. And she loathes herself for it. Laurence Dominic caused her so much pain but she finds herself missing him. It’s irrational, it’s ridiculous and it’s absolutely true. And she’s carrying this around like a goddamn cross-which she doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to let him go. Even if she probably should.
The elevator lurches to a halt. The doors slide open.
She steps out and goes to her desk. Familiar footsteps follow her.
She fixes her desk before gathering her belongings - her purse, her coat - before heading towards the double doors.
“Good night, Mr. Dominic.” She says before leaving. She takes a look back and finds him standing in the middle of her office.
“Good night, Ms. DeWitt.”
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, sorreh.
Words: 635 (I don't know how to write drabbles and that's coming from someone who's currently suffering from writer's block. Sorreh again)
Spoilers: Up to 2x01
Notes: written for the Sweet Drabblethon, for sunney
Prompt: DeWitt/Dominic- elevator, secret, unravel, moment
I apologize in advance for the mistakes. Also: inspired by a fic by blackmamba_esq
The elevator hums quietly as it slowly brings her up to her office. She sighs and closes her eyes. The problems are piling up on her House and even if she doesn’t want to admit it, it’s getting quite unbearable.
She’s exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. And part of her wants to stop - stop working, stop thinking, stop living - and just sleep. Sleep until everything is all right once again.
“And then there’s part of you that wants to unravel the secrets of the universe.” A sardonic voice says, “Am I right, Ms. DeWitt?”
Adelle keeps her eyes shut. Oh yes, and there’s that. Something else she also wants to stop.
“I don’t want to sound like an ass, since you have a new Head of Security and all, but how are you planning to fix the problems you’re facing? Ballard’s in the fold, one of the Actives had managed to escape and your favorite Active seems to be glitching more often than before.”
She lifts her head up and glances to her side. He’s standing beside her, looking straight ahead with his hands behind his back. And, as usual, he’s in a suit. Every time she sees him, he’s always in a suit, even when she’s at home, on her bed, in her kitchen or in her bathroom. Always in a suit, always impeccably-dressed.
She turns away. This is the main reason why she’s exhausted. She keeps herself working day in and out to prevent this moment from happening. Whenever she thinks about how tired she is, whenever she thinks about how terrible the day has been, he suddenly appears out of nowhere- mocking her, taunting her.
Maybe… maybe she should talk to someone about this.
“And who will you talk to? Therapists hired by Rossum? A doll imprinted with a composite of all the best psychiatrists in the entire planet? Topher?” he scoffs and she feels him look at her, “They’ll think you’re crazy, ma’am. And you don’t want that to happen.”
She looks at him, sharply. He isn’t real. She knows he isn’t real. And yet everything about her imaginary friend feels right. His presence both soothes her and terrifies her.
Maybe… maybe she is crazy.
“You’re not.” He says. His shoulders brush against hers as he moves to face her, “Crazy. When was the last time you slept through the night?”
His bright blue eyes pierce through her. Something starts to sting in her eyes. She forgets, sometimes. She forgets that he was an NSA agent sent to spy on the corporation; she forgets that she sent him to the Attic; and she forgets that he’s not by her side anymore. It’s so easy to forget. Because of this… hallucination.
“What will it take for me to stop seeing you?” she asks, finally. Her voice breaks slightly, “What will it take for you to stop appearing to me?”
He stares at her. She holds his gaze. If this doesn’t stop, she knows she’ll go mad.
“When you tell me to leave you alone, I’ll leave you alone.”
She misses him. Terribly. And she loathes herself for it. Laurence Dominic caused her so much pain but she finds herself missing him. It’s irrational, it’s ridiculous and it’s absolutely true. And she’s carrying this around like a goddamn cross-which she doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to let him go. Even if she probably should.
The elevator lurches to a halt. The doors slide open.
She steps out and goes to her desk. Familiar footsteps follow her.
She fixes her desk before gathering her belongings - her purse, her coat - before heading towards the double doors.
“Good night, Mr. Dominic.” She says before leaving. She takes a look back and finds him standing in the middle of her office.
“Good night, Ms. DeWitt.”