Crack!fic: Re-Animator/DS9 x-over
Title: Role Reversal
Fandom: Re-Animator/Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Rating: PG (references to gore, other mild adult themes)
Word Count: 1653
Summary: Absolute crack!fic where Herbert's a Vorta and Dan's a Founder. Based off this conversation over on tumblr. WTF, guys? IDEK...
Meg was dead. Twice. He had to break her neck to stop the screaming. Meg was dead. Herbert, too.
Or was he?
Dan needed to know.
Back down the hall, down the elevator. The morgue area was swarming with medics, firefighters, and police. They were all trying to sort through the body parts. Dan was covered in blood, wearing only his undershirt and a pair of jeans. He wouldn't blend in. He concentrated on a fireman's uniform. It happened in a blink of an eye, movement so quick and fluid, anyone who saw it would swear it was a trick of the light. Now clothed appropriately, Dan was allowed into the chaos without question.
There, among the exploded chunks of Hill's body, still wrapped in a rope of intestines, lay Herbert West's still form. His face and lips had lost their color, so pale, almost white. Almost normal.
The body couldn't stay there. Dan removed the intestines and easily lifted Herbert in to his arms. Among all the panic and confusion it was simple to take an ambulance and drive off into the night. Solids, Dan thought with distaste, so easily deceived.
He knew the way now. For over a year he had forgotten, just as he was suppose to. Seeing Herbert's lifeless body triggered the memories. His true memories were now combined with who and what he had been the past many months: being like one of them. Eating, breathing, copulating as a solid. A shudder of disgust rippled through him. But it had been necessary in order to survive on this primitive planet.
Dan drove to the outskirts of Arkham. There, their ship had crashed, buried into the earth. The area was littered with tunnels and caves, remnants of ancient cults worshiping their dark, terrifying gods. Perhaps these places will be used for worship once again, but for the right gods. One day, Dan's people would come to embrace this planet into the bosom of the Dominion.
The ship would never fly again. The power it did have left, Dan- for he had no other name to use- used for minimal life support and the lab. Vorta cloning facilities in the Dominion were vast structures, ensuring the continuation an entire species. But things happen on voyages, especially on a long-distance research mission such as theirs. Solids could be so delicate, and a back-up could be necessary in emergencies.
Dan dropped the body next to a tank filled with a gelatinous fluid. The Vorta's body itself was not necessary, but if left with the solids it would raise too many questions. There was also still one more thing Dan needed from it. He took a small, sharp knife and dug out Herbert's memory transcorder from his skull. Dan slotted the cylinder into a panel on the tank.
The translucent gel in the tank was a biological soup. It was everything needed to make bone, blood, and flesh. But it was a blank slate. It needed the Vorta's DNA sequence which Dan had in abundance. Modifications had to be made, just as he had to when constructing the first clone after the crash. To pass him off as one of the dominate sentient life forms on this planet had to change the skin color, eye color, his ears and even hair. Such changes were complex and capable of creating horrendous defects. Dan didn't dare to do anything other than cosmetic, leaving internal organs alone.
Modifications complete, Dan injected the Vorta's genetic material into the tank. His fingers danced over a series of lights and buttons. The cloning process began. The bio-gel started to roll and writhe, twisting into shapes, forming colors. While a new Herbert West, as he was now known, was being created, Dan started to work on disposing of the old one.
There was still a lot of time to wait for the clone to finish. Dan, after several exhausting months stuck as a solid, reveled in the ability to take on his true form; to stretch and flow and relax. To be himself. But even in that luxury Dan felt the gnawing emptiness. To be so far from the Great Link was a loneliness no other creature could ever comprehend. There had been a bliss in Daniel Cain's ignorance. To not know this deep, terrible lack. And yet, perhaps, unconsciously he had known. That was why he was so determined to couple. "Love" and fornication, as inadequate and unsatisfying as it was in comparison, was the closest these bipeds could know to being part of something like the Link.
Dan's longing for connection must have been ingrained in him as much as the Vorta's draw to his god was etched in his genes. Even with the repressed memories and the layers and layers of new, fabricated ones, Herbert found him. He insinuated himself in his life, desperate to be with the one that to whom he owed his very existence. As humans, the roles of servant and served had been reversed. It was unsettling in hindsight, but Dan decided instead to congratulate himself. His imprint technology was that strong. He was a genius.
The cloning chamber beeped, all its lights lit up at once then dimmed. The hatch activated, sliding the transparent door open. Dan solidified and sat next to the tank. Herbert was fully formed. A thin layer of the translucent bio-gel covered him from head to toe. Dan watched the final modifications take affect. His skin pinked, and his ears rounded-out. The clone gasped his first breath, coughing out more of the gel. His eyes fluttered open. For a moment they still shined a bright violet, but he blinked and the colors darkened.
"Do you know who I am?" Dan asked.
Herbert's eyes widened in adoration and said, "Founder," making the one word a worshipful, breathy prayer.
It felt good to simply be recognized, to have the idolization befitting his godhood. "What do you remember?"
"I remember... Oh, Founder!" He sat up too quickly, slippery hands finding no purchase on the sides of the chamber. "Founder, I remember horrible, blaphemous things! Forgive me!" He reached towards his god.
Dan recoiled, not wanting to get any of the bio-gel on himself, and out of general Changeling disgust with being touched by a lower being.
"Founder, please!" Herbert begged.
Dan shushed him. "It's all right. You've done nothing wrong, only what you were suppose to do. You became the person I made you to be."
The Vorta's breathing calmed. "I served you well, Founder?"
Dan smiled fondly. "You were perfect."
"Oh, no. Surely, only a god could ever be perfect. I am not worthy-"
Dan stood and turned away from him. Sometimes they could be a little too fawning. He grabbed a towel and tossed it to the yet slimy and nude man. "There are clothes for you on the console."
"Thank you, Founder." Herbert slipped a little climbing out of the cloning chamber, making a high-pitched squeak. Dan watched the newborn clone clean himself off, paying attention to the details of his body, double-checking that his modifications were flawless. The genitalia were purely cosmetic, too, and entirely non-functional. Dan wondered if that had something to do with the human version's aversion to the opposite sex. Overall, Dan was more than satisfied with his work.
Having rid himself of the excess bio-gel, the Vorta grabbed the pile of clothes. They had been stripped from his predecessor and had only a couple blood marks on them. He shuddered all the same.
"Is there a problem, Herbert?"
He flinched. "Am I still to use that name?"
"As long as we're on this planet, yes. And I asked you a question."
"Of course! There is no problem. Human clothes are just a little too complicated at times."
Dan had to agree, watching Herbert pull on several layers of clothing with too many and varied closures. Of all the species the Dominion had encountered and thus conquered, these humans had to be the most inefficient.
The Vorta's poor eyesight was something he could have modified as well, but the glasses had been an extra touch of detail adding to Herbert's supposed humanity. Once fully dressed he asked, "What are your plans now, Founder?"
"Start over. Somewhere far from this place."
"Away from the ship? What if it is discovered? What if something were to happen to me again?"
"Then you'll have to be careful, won't you? And why so many questions? Perhaps our times as humans has made you impertinent."
"Forgive me! I don't mean-"
"Of course you don't," Dan said, impatiently waving him to silence. "And despite the... Oddness of their relationship, we'll keep our established personae."
"Whatever you think is best."
Was that a hint of doubt? Maybe Dan did need to alter the human identity, something more submissive. But Dan was a researcher and scientist, and what better way to study the long-term affect of his memory imprints. Perhaps he would discover ways to make the Vorta better, make them less susceptible to brain-washing by enemies of the Dominion. He may not like it, but whatever petty discomforts Herbert had to endure in order to live here, it was nothing compared to what Dan had to suffer.
He took out his memory imprint device. Herbert looked at it sadly. "You've done so well. You made me proud," Dan reassured him. "You'll continue to make me proud."
Herbert looked at him with joyous relief to receive such praise from his god. He didn't even cry-out much when the imprinter was connected to his transcorder, jammed into the base of his skull.
Herbert collapsed to the floor. Dan changed the settings and turned the device on himself.
"Peru?" Dan asked as he helped clean the basement, sweeping up shards of glass.
Herbert was scrubbing at the blood. "Start over. Somewhere far from this place."
Huh, that actually didn't sound like a bad idea....
Fandom: Re-Animator/Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Rating: PG (references to gore, other mild adult themes)
Word Count: 1653
Summary: Absolute crack!fic where Herbert's a Vorta and Dan's a Founder. Based off this conversation over on tumblr. WTF, guys? IDEK...
Meg was dead. Twice. He had to break her neck to stop the screaming. Meg was dead. Herbert, too.
Or was he?
Dan needed to know.
Back down the hall, down the elevator. The morgue area was swarming with medics, firefighters, and police. They were all trying to sort through the body parts. Dan was covered in blood, wearing only his undershirt and a pair of jeans. He wouldn't blend in. He concentrated on a fireman's uniform. It happened in a blink of an eye, movement so quick and fluid, anyone who saw it would swear it was a trick of the light. Now clothed appropriately, Dan was allowed into the chaos without question.
There, among the exploded chunks of Hill's body, still wrapped in a rope of intestines, lay Herbert West's still form. His face and lips had lost their color, so pale, almost white. Almost normal.
The body couldn't stay there. Dan removed the intestines and easily lifted Herbert in to his arms. Among all the panic and confusion it was simple to take an ambulance and drive off into the night. Solids, Dan thought with distaste, so easily deceived.
He knew the way now. For over a year he had forgotten, just as he was suppose to. Seeing Herbert's lifeless body triggered the memories. His true memories were now combined with who and what he had been the past many months: being like one of them. Eating, breathing, copulating as a solid. A shudder of disgust rippled through him. But it had been necessary in order to survive on this primitive planet.
Dan drove to the outskirts of Arkham. There, their ship had crashed, buried into the earth. The area was littered with tunnels and caves, remnants of ancient cults worshiping their dark, terrifying gods. Perhaps these places will be used for worship once again, but for the right gods. One day, Dan's people would come to embrace this planet into the bosom of the Dominion.
The ship would never fly again. The power it did have left, Dan- for he had no other name to use- used for minimal life support and the lab. Vorta cloning facilities in the Dominion were vast structures, ensuring the continuation an entire species. But things happen on voyages, especially on a long-distance research mission such as theirs. Solids could be so delicate, and a back-up could be necessary in emergencies.
Dan dropped the body next to a tank filled with a gelatinous fluid. The Vorta's body itself was not necessary, but if left with the solids it would raise too many questions. There was also still one more thing Dan needed from it. He took a small, sharp knife and dug out Herbert's memory transcorder from his skull. Dan slotted the cylinder into a panel on the tank.
The translucent gel in the tank was a biological soup. It was everything needed to make bone, blood, and flesh. But it was a blank slate. It needed the Vorta's DNA sequence which Dan had in abundance. Modifications had to be made, just as he had to when constructing the first clone after the crash. To pass him off as one of the dominate sentient life forms on this planet had to change the skin color, eye color, his ears and even hair. Such changes were complex and capable of creating horrendous defects. Dan didn't dare to do anything other than cosmetic, leaving internal organs alone.
Modifications complete, Dan injected the Vorta's genetic material into the tank. His fingers danced over a series of lights and buttons. The cloning process began. The bio-gel started to roll and writhe, twisting into shapes, forming colors. While a new Herbert West, as he was now known, was being created, Dan started to work on disposing of the old one.
There was still a lot of time to wait for the clone to finish. Dan, after several exhausting months stuck as a solid, reveled in the ability to take on his true form; to stretch and flow and relax. To be himself. But even in that luxury Dan felt the gnawing emptiness. To be so far from the Great Link was a loneliness no other creature could ever comprehend. There had been a bliss in Daniel Cain's ignorance. To not know this deep, terrible lack. And yet, perhaps, unconsciously he had known. That was why he was so determined to couple. "Love" and fornication, as inadequate and unsatisfying as it was in comparison, was the closest these bipeds could know to being part of something like the Link.
Dan's longing for connection must have been ingrained in him as much as the Vorta's draw to his god was etched in his genes. Even with the repressed memories and the layers and layers of new, fabricated ones, Herbert found him. He insinuated himself in his life, desperate to be with the one that to whom he owed his very existence. As humans, the roles of servant and served had been reversed. It was unsettling in hindsight, but Dan decided instead to congratulate himself. His imprint technology was that strong. He was a genius.
The cloning chamber beeped, all its lights lit up at once then dimmed. The hatch activated, sliding the transparent door open. Dan solidified and sat next to the tank. Herbert was fully formed. A thin layer of the translucent bio-gel covered him from head to toe. Dan watched the final modifications take affect. His skin pinked, and his ears rounded-out. The clone gasped his first breath, coughing out more of the gel. His eyes fluttered open. For a moment they still shined a bright violet, but he blinked and the colors darkened.
"Do you know who I am?" Dan asked.
Herbert's eyes widened in adoration and said, "Founder," making the one word a worshipful, breathy prayer.
It felt good to simply be recognized, to have the idolization befitting his godhood. "What do you remember?"
"I remember... Oh, Founder!" He sat up too quickly, slippery hands finding no purchase on the sides of the chamber. "Founder, I remember horrible, blaphemous things! Forgive me!" He reached towards his god.
Dan recoiled, not wanting to get any of the bio-gel on himself, and out of general Changeling disgust with being touched by a lower being.
"Founder, please!" Herbert begged.
Dan shushed him. "It's all right. You've done nothing wrong, only what you were suppose to do. You became the person I made you to be."
The Vorta's breathing calmed. "I served you well, Founder?"
Dan smiled fondly. "You were perfect."
"Oh, no. Surely, only a god could ever be perfect. I am not worthy-"
Dan stood and turned away from him. Sometimes they could be a little too fawning. He grabbed a towel and tossed it to the yet slimy and nude man. "There are clothes for you on the console."
"Thank you, Founder." Herbert slipped a little climbing out of the cloning chamber, making a high-pitched squeak. Dan watched the newborn clone clean himself off, paying attention to the details of his body, double-checking that his modifications were flawless. The genitalia were purely cosmetic, too, and entirely non-functional. Dan wondered if that had something to do with the human version's aversion to the opposite sex. Overall, Dan was more than satisfied with his work.
Having rid himself of the excess bio-gel, the Vorta grabbed the pile of clothes. They had been stripped from his predecessor and had only a couple blood marks on them. He shuddered all the same.
"Is there a problem, Herbert?"
He flinched. "Am I still to use that name?"
"As long as we're on this planet, yes. And I asked you a question."
"Of course! There is no problem. Human clothes are just a little too complicated at times."
Dan had to agree, watching Herbert pull on several layers of clothing with too many and varied closures. Of all the species the Dominion had encountered and thus conquered, these humans had to be the most inefficient.
The Vorta's poor eyesight was something he could have modified as well, but the glasses had been an extra touch of detail adding to Herbert's supposed humanity. Once fully dressed he asked, "What are your plans now, Founder?"
"Start over. Somewhere far from this place."
"Away from the ship? What if it is discovered? What if something were to happen to me again?"
"Then you'll have to be careful, won't you? And why so many questions? Perhaps our times as humans has made you impertinent."
"Forgive me! I don't mean-"
"Of course you don't," Dan said, impatiently waving him to silence. "And despite the... Oddness of their relationship, we'll keep our established personae."
"Whatever you think is best."
Was that a hint of doubt? Maybe Dan did need to alter the human identity, something more submissive. But Dan was a researcher and scientist, and what better way to study the long-term affect of his memory imprints. Perhaps he would discover ways to make the Vorta better, make them less susceptible to brain-washing by enemies of the Dominion. He may not like it, but whatever petty discomforts Herbert had to endure in order to live here, it was nothing compared to what Dan had to suffer.
He took out his memory imprint device. Herbert looked at it sadly. "You've done so well. You made me proud," Dan reassured him. "You'll continue to make me proud."
Herbert looked at him with joyous relief to receive such praise from his god. He didn't even cry-out much when the imprinter was connected to his transcorder, jammed into the base of his skull.
Herbert collapsed to the floor. Dan changed the settings and turned the device on himself.
"Peru?" Dan asked as he helped clean the basement, sweeping up shards of glass.
Herbert was scrubbing at the blood. "Start over. Somewhere far from this place."
Huh, that actually didn't sound like a bad idea....