"You don't know that, Bob! The likelihood of being able to build something with the capability of 21st century technology here is impossible. The tools just aren't available and you know it. You know it
( Read more... )
I didn't see what had happened, that should be mentioned right away. What I had witnessed, well, overheard was talking, an argument that almost seemed a bit too one-sided, but then again, I didn't see it. How could I know?
What I did see, do see, as I walk down the hall, surprisingly free of books for a while, but I still have a pencil, cause I can't help but fidget, is Bob. Curled up and looking like something or someone just died.
"Bob, are you okay? What happened?" It comes out faster than I meant, but I worried, so it's probably normal.
Bob doesn't hear her, his fingers sliding into his hair as he continues to shake his head, muttering and pleading softly under his breath. In his mind, David's still screaming at him, calling him a failure and a joke, telling him to leave NorBAC and join Ms. Richman, that his science is only good for perfumery. The voice is loud and painful and Bob holds the heels of his hands hard against his temple.
"No, no," he says softly, his voice a whimper, eyes closed tight. "No, please. David, please."
Just on the off chance that I've missed something or apparently someone, I stick my head inside the lab. Yeah, no one, and definitely not David, whose kid I look like. Or something.
"Bob, Bob, there's no one here, well, there's me, but David's not here." Oh god, am I going to have to kick the butt of some old microbiologist? Because that definitely would not make the twins happy.
Shaking his head, Bob makes a soft sound again, eyes still clenched tightly shut as he holds his arms close to him. "He's gone," he whispers softly, the words obviously aimed more at himself than at her. "He's gone. I've made him angry and he's gone."
There had been a general feeling of Something building lately around the Island, and while David had noticed it, he hadn't connected it and Bob in his mind. If Bob behaved a little oddly, in ways that he couldn't quite see a cause for, well, Bob was Bob and allowances had to be made.
But this... this was something else, and David stopped dead in the hall, panic gripping his chest.
"Bob." His legs came online and he darted forward, dropping into a crouch. "Are you... what's going on?"
Bob knows David's smell. After working with him for ten years and living with him for eight months, Bob is very aware of it, can describe it fully, can recognize it instantly. Normally, he finds it comforting.
But, not lately.
His breath catches again and he tries to shove himself harder against the wall, pain shooting through his back as he hits a little too hard.
"No, David, please," he mutters, eyes still tightly closed, wincing in anticipation. David's never hit him before and anytime other time Bob wouldn't expect that he might. But, everything's changed. He's on a strange island and he lives in a hut and he hasn't seen his mother in eight months and David's angry. David's very very angry.
Bob and he had gotten into fights, sure, 'fights' being the term for when David was trying to make Bob understand something that he steadfastly refused to understand. Sometimes those fights degenerated into yelling. Sometimes David lost his temper. He wasn't proud of it, knew it was unfair, but sometimes it still happened.
He had never seen Bob look like this before, though.
He pulled back a little, unsure what to do. Usually he calmed, or helped get there. Now he just seemed to be making whatever it was worse.
"What happened?" He resisted the urge to lean forward and take Bob by the shoulders. "Bob, tell me."
David isn't shouting anymore and doesn't seem angry. Somewhere in the back of Bob's mind, he can recognize that, but it's not quiet registering loudly enough for him to pay attention to and he just shakes his head again.
"Please," he says again, drawing his knees up closer, eyes still closed tight as though that's his only defense, the only way to make David stop. "Please stop yelling, David. Please."
When she was working, Jill tended to be very single minded, her thought process narrowing down to her work and only her work, but the sound of Bob's voice snapped her out of it after a moment. Looking up, she watched him talk to himself, talking to thin fucking air before he bolted out of the lab and she was on her feet a second later, following him into the hall.
"Bob?" she asked gently and she hadn't seen him like this in months. Not since before their arrival. "Bob, what's wrong?"
Bob's still shaking his head, quick stilted movements from side to side, his hands in fists against his temple, like he's trying to hold his skull together.
"David," he whines, his voice quiet and weak, a plea aimed at his own mind.
Distantly, he knows it's not really David, knows that David would never speak to him like this, would never make Bob feel as low and useless as he does right now. But ache and the fear is palpable and he can't make it go away. It won't go away.
"Bob, honey, what's going on?" Jill asked, dropping into a crouch in front of him. She didn't touch him, though, not yet. The shaking was familiar and she knew better than to touch him when he was like this. What she had to do first was get him to calm down.
"David's not here, it's Jill," she said. "What's going on? Can you hear me?" And if he didn't answer soon, she'd go find a doctor.
He shakes his head again and swallows hard, something that sounds like a sob leaking past his lips as he tries to suck in a breath, gently beginning to rock back and forth. David's voice is growing louder and angrier all around him, crowding him in and making the walls close in around him. Somehow, it has the effect of making him feel cold and empty and he's not sure how that's possible, how he can feel crushed and exposed at the same time.
Another moment and he thinks he can hear something else, something distant and quiet and familiar and his breath hitches, though his eyes don't open.
"Jill," he says, his voice weak before he gives another quiet whine and shakes his head. "Jill, I'm sorry. I don't know-- I don't know how-- what I did. I'm sorry."
Fraser did not know the man, but that did not stop him from showing concern when he found him crouched down and curled up in the compound outside the labs. He had been making his way to the IPD office, but this seemed far more important than discussing the possibility of lobbying for littering laws With Ray. Either Ray, or perhaps Horatio.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, crouching down to see if the man was hurt in any way.
If Bob's aware of the man, it doesn't show at all, his eyes still firmly shut as he shakes his head, hands balled into fists near his temple.
"David," he pleads, very quietly, weakly. He feels lost. Completely. Lost and abandoned and David's so angry with him. So very very angry. "David, please. Please don't do this."
Looking around, Fraser tried to see just whom the man was speaking to. The hall was empty though, and they were very much alone.
"My name is Constable Benton Fraser, formally of The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and currently of The Tabula Rasa Island Police Department. I do believe we are actually quite alone, and that the David you are speaking to has left. I would like to be of assistance though. Are you hurt?"
If the man's speech hadn't been so long, it's likely possible that Bob wouldn'thave noticed it at all, his eyes still tightly shut and the raging in his mind overpowering all else. As it is, he only catches the tail end of it and his eyes open slowly, reluctantly, wet and blood-shot as he shakes his head.
He changes his mind and nods instead and then shakes it once more as he swallows.
"I don't--" he tries, but he doesn't know where to take that. When he looks up, he sees David just beyond the man's shoulder. More specifically, he sees David's back as he turns and walks away.
A quiet, strangled whine wrenches free of his throat and one hand frees it self from his hair. "Please..."
Mayko's attention is caught when she hears her name, but other than that she can't really make out what Bob's saying. She could almost believe he's just working on something until he flees his workspace.
She's right behind him then, kneeling down next to him on the hallway floor. "Bob?" she says. "Bob, what's going on?"
Swallowing hard, Bob still shakes his head, hands held tight against the sides of his head and eyes tightly shut. He can feel it all caving in around him, making him feel crowded and smothered and completely empty all at once. It's too much.
"Please," he whines, his voice soft and hitched in his throat as one foot skids across the floor in his attempt to push himself harder against the wall. "Please stop, David. Stop. I'm sorry. Please."
Bob's still shaking his head, legs curled up tight against him as his voice comes out a hitching, quiet sob.
"He's angry," Bob argues, his voice quiet, eyes barely focusing on Mayko's face. "He's so angry, Mayko. He doesn't think the weather tower's a good idea, thinks we're wasting our time."
Comments 112
What I did see, do see, as I walk down the hall, surprisingly free of books for a while, but I still have a pencil, cause I can't help but fidget, is Bob. Curled up and looking like something or someone just died.
"Bob, are you okay? What happened?" It comes out faster than I meant, but I worried, so it's probably normal.
Reply
"No, no," he says softly, his voice a whimper, eyes closed tight. "No, please. David, please."
Reply
"Bob, Bob, there's no one here, well, there's me, but David's not here." Oh god, am I going to have to kick the butt of some old microbiologist? Because that definitely would not make the twins happy.
Reply
Reply
But this... this was something else, and David stopped dead in the hall, panic gripping his chest.
"Bob." His legs came online and he darted forward, dropping into a crouch. "Are you... what's going on?"
Reply
But, not lately.
His breath catches again and he tries to shove himself harder against the wall, pain shooting through his back as he hits a little too hard.
"No, David, please," he mutters, eyes still tightly closed, wincing in anticipation. David's never hit him before and anytime other time Bob wouldn't expect that he might. But, everything's changed. He's on a strange island and he lives in a hut and he hasn't seen his mother in eight months and David's angry. David's very very angry.
Reply
He had never seen Bob look like this before, though.
He pulled back a little, unsure what to do. Usually he calmed, or helped get there. Now he just seemed to be making whatever it was worse.
"What happened?" He resisted the urge to lean forward and take Bob by the shoulders. "Bob, tell me."
Reply
"Please," he says again, drawing his knees up closer, eyes still closed tight as though that's his only defense, the only way to make David stop. "Please stop yelling, David. Please."
Reply
"Bob?" she asked gently and she hadn't seen him like this in months. Not since before their arrival. "Bob, what's wrong?"
Reply
"David," he whines, his voice quiet and weak, a plea aimed at his own mind.
Distantly, he knows it's not really David, knows that David would never speak to him like this, would never make Bob feel as low and useless as he does right now. But ache and the fear is palpable and he can't make it go away. It won't go away.
Reply
"David's not here, it's Jill," she said. "What's going on? Can you hear me?" And if he didn't answer soon, she'd go find a doctor.
Reply
Another moment and he thinks he can hear something else, something distant and quiet and familiar and his breath hitches, though his eyes don't open.
"Jill," he says, his voice weak before he gives another quiet whine and shakes his head. "Jill, I'm sorry. I don't know-- I don't know how-- what I did. I'm sorry."
Reply
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, crouching down to see if the man was hurt in any way.
Reply
"David," he pleads, very quietly, weakly. He feels lost. Completely. Lost and abandoned and David's so angry with him. So very very angry. "David, please. Please don't do this."
Reply
"My name is Constable Benton Fraser, formally of The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and currently of The Tabula Rasa Island Police Department. I do believe we are actually quite alone, and that the David you are speaking to has left. I would like to be of assistance though. Are you hurt?"
Reply
He changes his mind and nods instead and then shakes it once more as he swallows.
"I don't--" he tries, but he doesn't know where to take that. When he looks up, he sees David just beyond the man's shoulder. More specifically, he sees David's back as he turns and walks away.
A quiet, strangled whine wrenches free of his throat and one hand frees it self from his hair. "Please..."
Reply
She's right behind him then, kneeling down next to him on the hallway floor. "Bob?" she says. "Bob, what's going on?"
Reply
"Please," he whines, his voice soft and hitched in his throat as one foot skids across the floor in his attempt to push himself harder against the wall. "Please stop, David. Stop. I'm sorry. Please."
Reply
Reply
"He's angry," Bob argues, his voice quiet, eyes barely focusing on Mayko's face. "He's so angry, Mayko. He doesn't think the weather tower's a good idea, thinks we're wasting our time."
Reply
Leave a comment