The Long Silence (J/A) (12/?)
This fic is rated: E for Evil
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: James tries to get a response from Alec.
Warnings: only the usual
This series contains sex that, while nominally consensual, takes place during and after brainwashing. As the character is incapable of giving any meaningful consent, the sex in the story would legally and ethically be considered rape. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word Count: 1,218
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Series Master List
Chapter One
Previous Chapter
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
James stowed the last of the supplies, and then headed into Alec's sickroom. Alec was still asleep; James had given him a dose of morphine so that he wouldn't panic at being left alone -- though really, it would serve him right.
The drug should be wearing off soon, though.
And then?
Then, Alec was through giving him the silent treatment. One way or another.
He set the equipment on the card table, and went to take a closer look at Alec. As far as James could tell, he hadn't moved; his left hand, in the plastic brace the doctor had recommended as a precautionary measure, was curled loosely on his chest.
The doctor didn't think his wrist was broken, but without x-rays, there was no way to be sure. As she did every time, the doctor had told him that Alec belonged in a hospital. And … had that been suspicion in her eyes when he'd told her that Alec had fallen?
Or was it just his guilty conscience?
It didn't matter; the doctor wasn't here now. Only Alec mattered. And Alec had been giving him the silent treatment for the past week.
Not completely, of course; he would answer yes or no to questions, though he wouldn't elaborate no matter how much James prodded. He would do as he was told. But he wouldn't initiate conversations, wouldn't even ask for ice or morphine. He kept his eyes focused in the middle distance.
James had only given Alec the minimum amount of morphine for the amount of time he was going to be gone; he was already starting to stir a bit. James kissed his forehead, and then turned to the equipment. He plugged in the electric skillet, and twisted the knob to maximum.
When he turned back to Alec, his eyes were open. He did not look at James, though. Even when James put himself in Alec's line of sight, his eyes did not focus.
"Would you like some ice?" James asked.
Alec was silent for a long moment, before he whispered "Yes."
James dipped his fingers into the cup, and slid a chip of ice into Alec's mouth. Alec accepted it in silence, and closed his eyes.
"Hey," James said. "Don’t go back to sleep. It's almost time for breakfast."
Alec didn't deign to respond.
"Come on, Alec. Wake up. Open your eyes."
He obeyed, as always. But he still wouldn't focus his eyes on James. It was, James supposed, the only defiance he could effectively give.
That wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be the center of Alec's universe. Not something to be ignored. Even if Alec did have good reason to be angry.
One way or another, he told himself.
The skillet was getting hot.
While he was waiting, he fed Alec another piece of ice. While his mouth was still open, he leaned over and kissed him. Gentle, almost chaste; he wanted Alec wanting more.
No response. James had to be impressed at Alec's control.
He pulled away, grabbed another chip of ice, and crossed the room to check on the skillet again. Not quite hot enough, but close. He skittered the ice across the surface, listening to it sizzle as it melted.
An idea struck him then, and he returned to fish out yet another chip of ice. He raised his hand as if he was going to give it to Alec -- but at the last minute, he let it drop. It slid down the side of Alec's neck and landed against the mattress.
"Sorry about that," James said. He reached down to retrieve it, and drew it up slowly, trailing it against Alec's skin as he did so.
No response.
The skillet was ready; he could hear the last of the water sizzle away. He unwrapped the package of bacon, and laid four thick slices in the pan. The sizzle of fat, the scent curling up through the air -- there was no way Alec could ignore it. James kept his back turned; if Alec thought he was unobserved, he might be more likely to weaken.
When the bacon was done cooking, James blotted it on a paper towel. He took the bacon, and started to eat it as he walked over to Alec's side.
Still no reaction. He would have expected something, at least, if only a half-involuntary lick of the lips.
"How do you like your bacon, Alec?"
Long silence. Finally, "Yes."
He had to laugh at that. "Good try, Alec."
Alec closed his eyes. James waved a piece of bacon beneath his nose. He had to be tempted by now; bacon was the first food he'd asked for.
But there was no response.
"If you're not hungry … " James finished the bacon and shut the skillet off. "If you want some bacon, just ask. Or anything else. Anything that's within my power."
He'd hoped it would be an irresistible invitation; that Alec would make the most outrageous suggestion he could.
Outrageous or not, if he could manage it, he would.
But there was no response.
"Well," he said, "It's been a long day. I think I'll go and get some sleep." Alec couldn't pass that one up, could he; breakfast right before bed? "Call me if you need me."
Alec just closed his eyes.
So it was to be a contest of wills? Fine. He'd play.
He walked out the door, went and got a folding chair and a book from his bedroom, and sat down to wait.
Ten hours later, he was still waiting. He dragged his mattress out and slept in front of the door, so he could hear Alec if he called. He slept lightly, but there was no sound from inside the room. After a fitful six hours, he returned to the seat and tried to read. Twenty hours passed, with no call from Alec. Thirty. He slept again and woke up, with still no sound.
He had to be getting thirsty.
What if something was really wrong?
What if Alec had died?
"He couldn't -- he wouldn't do that to me -- "
His nerve broke. He dashed through the door.
"Alec -- Alec, speak to me!"
For a long minute, Alec just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, he blinked. James let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you're all right."
Alec closed his eyes.
"Hey," James said. "Are you thirsty?"
He should have been desperate for water by now, after nearly two days. But he just lay there, eyes closed. He didn't seem to have moved at all.
James grabbed the cup of water from the table, and stumbled from the room. He poured out the water. He opened the freezer door, and reached for the ice, with a hand that he suddenly realized was shaking. He scooped up the ice and headed back into Alec's room. Fed him chips of ice until the cup was empty. And tried to figure out what he was going to do next.
Because Alec wasn't giving him the silent treatment, or being stubborn, or faking. He'd pushed him too far, and Alec was gone, deep within himself.
And for the life of him, James couldn't figure out how to bring him back.
Next Chapter
Fandom: James Bond: Goldeneye
Characters/Pairing: James/Alec
Summary: James tries to get a response from Alec.
Warnings: only the usual
This series contains sex that, while nominally consensual, takes place during and after brainwashing. As the character is incapable of giving any meaningful consent, the sex in the story would legally and ethically be considered rape. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word Count: 1,218
Feedback: yes, please!
X-Posted: were_lemur, forengland
Series Master List
Chapter One
Previous Chapter
Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor any other characters mentioned in this fic. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
James stowed the last of the supplies, and then headed into Alec's sickroom. Alec was still asleep; James had given him a dose of morphine so that he wouldn't panic at being left alone -- though really, it would serve him right.
The drug should be wearing off soon, though.
And then?
Then, Alec was through giving him the silent treatment. One way or another.
He set the equipment on the card table, and went to take a closer look at Alec. As far as James could tell, he hadn't moved; his left hand, in the plastic brace the doctor had recommended as a precautionary measure, was curled loosely on his chest.
The doctor didn't think his wrist was broken, but without x-rays, there was no way to be sure. As she did every time, the doctor had told him that Alec belonged in a hospital. And … had that been suspicion in her eyes when he'd told her that Alec had fallen?
Or was it just his guilty conscience?
It didn't matter; the doctor wasn't here now. Only Alec mattered. And Alec had been giving him the silent treatment for the past week.
Not completely, of course; he would answer yes or no to questions, though he wouldn't elaborate no matter how much James prodded. He would do as he was told. But he wouldn't initiate conversations, wouldn't even ask for ice or morphine. He kept his eyes focused in the middle distance.
James had only given Alec the minimum amount of morphine for the amount of time he was going to be gone; he was already starting to stir a bit. James kissed his forehead, and then turned to the equipment. He plugged in the electric skillet, and twisted the knob to maximum.
When he turned back to Alec, his eyes were open. He did not look at James, though. Even when James put himself in Alec's line of sight, his eyes did not focus.
"Would you like some ice?" James asked.
Alec was silent for a long moment, before he whispered "Yes."
James dipped his fingers into the cup, and slid a chip of ice into Alec's mouth. Alec accepted it in silence, and closed his eyes.
"Hey," James said. "Don’t go back to sleep. It's almost time for breakfast."
Alec didn't deign to respond.
"Come on, Alec. Wake up. Open your eyes."
He obeyed, as always. But he still wouldn't focus his eyes on James. It was, James supposed, the only defiance he could effectively give.
That wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be the center of Alec's universe. Not something to be ignored. Even if Alec did have good reason to be angry.
One way or another, he told himself.
The skillet was getting hot.
While he was waiting, he fed Alec another piece of ice. While his mouth was still open, he leaned over and kissed him. Gentle, almost chaste; he wanted Alec wanting more.
No response. James had to be impressed at Alec's control.
He pulled away, grabbed another chip of ice, and crossed the room to check on the skillet again. Not quite hot enough, but close. He skittered the ice across the surface, listening to it sizzle as it melted.
An idea struck him then, and he returned to fish out yet another chip of ice. He raised his hand as if he was going to give it to Alec -- but at the last minute, he let it drop. It slid down the side of Alec's neck and landed against the mattress.
"Sorry about that," James said. He reached down to retrieve it, and drew it up slowly, trailing it against Alec's skin as he did so.
No response.
The skillet was ready; he could hear the last of the water sizzle away. He unwrapped the package of bacon, and laid four thick slices in the pan. The sizzle of fat, the scent curling up through the air -- there was no way Alec could ignore it. James kept his back turned; if Alec thought he was unobserved, he might be more likely to weaken.
When the bacon was done cooking, James blotted it on a paper towel. He took the bacon, and started to eat it as he walked over to Alec's side.
Still no reaction. He would have expected something, at least, if only a half-involuntary lick of the lips.
"How do you like your bacon, Alec?"
Long silence. Finally, "Yes."
He had to laugh at that. "Good try, Alec."
Alec closed his eyes. James waved a piece of bacon beneath his nose. He had to be tempted by now; bacon was the first food he'd asked for.
But there was no response.
"If you're not hungry … " James finished the bacon and shut the skillet off. "If you want some bacon, just ask. Or anything else. Anything that's within my power."
He'd hoped it would be an irresistible invitation; that Alec would make the most outrageous suggestion he could.
Outrageous or not, if he could manage it, he would.
But there was no response.
"Well," he said, "It's been a long day. I think I'll go and get some sleep." Alec couldn't pass that one up, could he; breakfast right before bed? "Call me if you need me."
Alec just closed his eyes.
So it was to be a contest of wills? Fine. He'd play.
He walked out the door, went and got a folding chair and a book from his bedroom, and sat down to wait.
Ten hours later, he was still waiting. He dragged his mattress out and slept in front of the door, so he could hear Alec if he called. He slept lightly, but there was no sound from inside the room. After a fitful six hours, he returned to the seat and tried to read. Twenty hours passed, with no call from Alec. Thirty. He slept again and woke up, with still no sound.
He had to be getting thirsty.
What if something was really wrong?
What if Alec had died?
"He couldn't -- he wouldn't do that to me -- "
His nerve broke. He dashed through the door.
"Alec -- Alec, speak to me!"
For a long minute, Alec just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, he blinked. James let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you're all right."
Alec closed his eyes.
"Hey," James said. "Are you thirsty?"
He should have been desperate for water by now, after nearly two days. But he just lay there, eyes closed. He didn't seem to have moved at all.
James grabbed the cup of water from the table, and stumbled from the room. He poured out the water. He opened the freezer door, and reached for the ice, with a hand that he suddenly realized was shaking. He scooped up the ice and headed back into Alec's room. Fed him chips of ice until the cup was empty. And tried to figure out what he was going to do next.
Because Alec wasn't giving him the silent treatment, or being stubborn, or faking. He'd pushed him too far, and Alec was gone, deep within himself.
And for the life of him, James couldn't figure out how to bring him back.
Next Chapter