Ethan fic: the results of the Initiative
I never used to worry about Ethan being taken by the Initiative. It seemed like a mild joke, and I always expected him to turn up again. But the Initiative turned out not to be so funny; and Ethan never emerged. Eventually, I got a prompt that seemed to work, at the whedon_kinkmeme, and wrote this angsty little piece.
Title: Temps Perdu
Rating: PG
Words: 930
Prompt: Ethan/Giles, reunited as old men. Sex is not necessary, just affection, forgiveness, memory of past love.
The doors of the Initiative-Epsilon open. The man behind them takes one cautious step forward. No guards leap at him. He takes another. No dogs, no electric shocks. The third step is almost a leap. No consequences. He’s an ex-prisoner.
He owns one plastic carrier bag. It contains a pair of black trousers and a shiny black and silver top which was too young for him when he was first incarcerated. He also owns one Rehabilitation of Offenders pack, containing two shirts, socks, underwear, basic toiletries, a small amount of cash and a bus ticket.
He is on a highway, in open country. He has no map. Initiative-Epsilon is in Montana, he believes. He lost track of his exact position after the second move, somewhere in northern Oklahoma. Disorientation is an important part of the Initiative’s work, and he was never an expert on American geography anyway.
There is a highway. He assumes there will in time be a bus at the complex’s bus stop. He doesn’t have any other options, so he heads that way.
A car draws up alongside him. There is an old man inside. He’s human. Every human the ex-prisoner has seen for the past two decades was an enemy. He flinches.
Car man gets out. Holds out a cautious hand to ex-prisoner. “Ethan. I thought you might need some help.”
Ex-prisoner had a name, once. So did car man. It swims up through the mists of lost time. “Ripper. You’re Ripper.”
Ripper is old. But then, so is Ethan. Pensioners, the pair of them.
“Yes,” says Ripper. Curiously kind tones. Not something Ethan has experienced lately. “Do you want to get in the car? I can take you somewhere better than this.”
Ethan does. He doesn't want to argue.
Ethan was quite wrong about position. It’s a good thing he didn’t try to guess where to go. They are in southern Wyoming, near Cheyenne. When he gets into the car, Ripper says they will drive to Denver today. “And then you can get a plane somewhere. I’ll pay.”
Ethan says, “Thank you.” It feels strange, gratitude.
They drive for some time. It is starting to get dark and they are on the edge of Denver. Ripper says, “We’ll find a motel. Have a drink and a chat. We’ll make a plan for tomorrow.”
Ethan is confused. He hasn’t planned for a very long time. He says, “I don’t know what to do.”
Ripper says, “I know. We’ll plan together.”
They have supper in their room. Ethan remembers the word supper from many years ago. Burgers and chips and beer; nice food, nice alcohol. Ripper asked if he would like his own room, but Ethan has been alone for too long. So they share. Twin beds. Quite clean, and there is a picture on the wall. Ethan hasn’t seen a picture for a long time. There is a television, sleek and modern. When he comments on it, Ripper blinks. “It’s a pretty tatty old thing.” Technology has moved on. But of course it would have.
Ripper talks about what has happened since Ethan went away. About the explosion of Slayers into the world, and the loss of the old Council. He sounds tired, but satisfied, like his life has been worth remembering. “But now I’m retired, of course. It’s pleasant. And they do check in with me, like an elder statesman of the Slayer tribe. But it’s a lonely way to get old, all the same.”
As he drinks his second beer, and listens to Ripper remember, Ethan starts to remember too. He remembers himself. Remembers the drugged beer he fed Ripper last time they met. He says, “I’m sorry I turned you into a Fyarl.”
Ripper says, “I know. It was stupid. But I’m sorry we left you there for so long. The Initiative was hard to break down; it took us several years to get you released. I didn’t think it would be so brutal for you, though.”
Ethan frowns. “It was not so bad. They didn’t hurt me. Just took away my magic. And anything that might excite me.” Like books and pictures and TV and people and conversation.
Ripper says, “You were evil; you did some terrible things. But it was inspired by an essential spirit of misrule. We knew that. And they made you live an entirely orderly uncreative life. It must have hurt.”
“I try not to remember that. It was all right later. I slept a lot. Before... it was like breathing underwater.” Ethan remembers, a little. He starts to cry.
Ripper sits on the bed with Ethan. He puts an arm round him. No one has touched Ethan like a friend since the last drink they had together. He cries a little more.
“I’m sorry,” says Ripper. “I should have come for you long ago. Shouldn’t have left you. Not after all we shared.”
Ripper tidies away the remains of supper. He says, “Would you like the light on tonight?” Ethan is grateful, again.
That night, Ethan dreams. He hasn’t dreamed for years. He dreams of Ripper, of Eyghon, of Janus and Chaos. He remembers what he was, and why the Initiative wanted to break him. He is sorry. But he is glad he can remember now.
In the morning Ethan says, “Ripper. Can I go home with you? I don’t know where else to go.”
And Ripper says, “Of course. I wasn’t going to let you go anywhere alone. You’ve been alone too long.”
Ethan smiles. It’s the first time, since the prison gate opened.
Title: Temps Perdu
Rating: PG
Words: 930
Prompt: Ethan/Giles, reunited as old men. Sex is not necessary, just affection, forgiveness, memory of past love.
The doors of the Initiative-Epsilon open. The man behind them takes one cautious step forward. No guards leap at him. He takes another. No dogs, no electric shocks. The third step is almost a leap. No consequences. He’s an ex-prisoner.
He owns one plastic carrier bag. It contains a pair of black trousers and a shiny black and silver top which was too young for him when he was first incarcerated. He also owns one Rehabilitation of Offenders pack, containing two shirts, socks, underwear, basic toiletries, a small amount of cash and a bus ticket.
He is on a highway, in open country. He has no map. Initiative-Epsilon is in Montana, he believes. He lost track of his exact position after the second move, somewhere in northern Oklahoma. Disorientation is an important part of the Initiative’s work, and he was never an expert on American geography anyway.
There is a highway. He assumes there will in time be a bus at the complex’s bus stop. He doesn’t have any other options, so he heads that way.
A car draws up alongside him. There is an old man inside. He’s human. Every human the ex-prisoner has seen for the past two decades was an enemy. He flinches.
Car man gets out. Holds out a cautious hand to ex-prisoner. “Ethan. I thought you might need some help.”
Ex-prisoner had a name, once. So did car man. It swims up through the mists of lost time. “Ripper. You’re Ripper.”
Ripper is old. But then, so is Ethan. Pensioners, the pair of them.
“Yes,” says Ripper. Curiously kind tones. Not something Ethan has experienced lately. “Do you want to get in the car? I can take you somewhere better than this.”
Ethan does. He doesn't want to argue.
Ethan was quite wrong about position. It’s a good thing he didn’t try to guess where to go. They are in southern Wyoming, near Cheyenne. When he gets into the car, Ripper says they will drive to Denver today. “And then you can get a plane somewhere. I’ll pay.”
Ethan says, “Thank you.” It feels strange, gratitude.
They drive for some time. It is starting to get dark and they are on the edge of Denver. Ripper says, “We’ll find a motel. Have a drink and a chat. We’ll make a plan for tomorrow.”
Ethan is confused. He hasn’t planned for a very long time. He says, “I don’t know what to do.”
Ripper says, “I know. We’ll plan together.”
They have supper in their room. Ethan remembers the word supper from many years ago. Burgers and chips and beer; nice food, nice alcohol. Ripper asked if he would like his own room, but Ethan has been alone for too long. So they share. Twin beds. Quite clean, and there is a picture on the wall. Ethan hasn’t seen a picture for a long time. There is a television, sleek and modern. When he comments on it, Ripper blinks. “It’s a pretty tatty old thing.” Technology has moved on. But of course it would have.
Ripper talks about what has happened since Ethan went away. About the explosion of Slayers into the world, and the loss of the old Council. He sounds tired, but satisfied, like his life has been worth remembering. “But now I’m retired, of course. It’s pleasant. And they do check in with me, like an elder statesman of the Slayer tribe. But it’s a lonely way to get old, all the same.”
As he drinks his second beer, and listens to Ripper remember, Ethan starts to remember too. He remembers himself. Remembers the drugged beer he fed Ripper last time they met. He says, “I’m sorry I turned you into a Fyarl.”
Ripper says, “I know. It was stupid. But I’m sorry we left you there for so long. The Initiative was hard to break down; it took us several years to get you released. I didn’t think it would be so brutal for you, though.”
Ethan frowns. “It was not so bad. They didn’t hurt me. Just took away my magic. And anything that might excite me.” Like books and pictures and TV and people and conversation.
Ripper says, “You were evil; you did some terrible things. But it was inspired by an essential spirit of misrule. We knew that. And they made you live an entirely orderly uncreative life. It must have hurt.”
“I try not to remember that. It was all right later. I slept a lot. Before... it was like breathing underwater.” Ethan remembers, a little. He starts to cry.
Ripper sits on the bed with Ethan. He puts an arm round him. No one has touched Ethan like a friend since the last drink they had together. He cries a little more.
“I’m sorry,” says Ripper. “I should have come for you long ago. Shouldn’t have left you. Not after all we shared.”
Ripper tidies away the remains of supper. He says, “Would you like the light on tonight?” Ethan is grateful, again.
That night, Ethan dreams. He hasn’t dreamed for years. He dreams of Ripper, of Eyghon, of Janus and Chaos. He remembers what he was, and why the Initiative wanted to break him. He is sorry. But he is glad he can remember now.
In the morning Ethan says, “Ripper. Can I go home with you? I don’t know where else to go.”
And Ripper says, “Of course. I wasn’t going to let you go anywhere alone. You’ve been alone too long.”
Ethan smiles. It’s the first time, since the prison gate opened.