peja (peja) wrote in makebelieve_ij, @ 2010-06-07 11:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: peja, character: doyle, character: dylan hunt, character: telemachus rhade, characters: seamus harper, fandom: andromeda, genre: general |
Fic: Angels 1: Decay of Angels
Angels 1: Decay of Angels
by peja
Category: Andromeda
Characters: Seamus Harper
Spoilers: Angel of Decay
Summary: Harper realizes his worst fears
Warning: Angst, blood-play, Dark Themes, Cutting
Rating: FRM
"Your handling him wrong." Rhade said suddenly, breaking the silence that he'd shared with Dylan for several minutes.
"Hm?" Dylan's head swiveled round distractedly. "Who?"
"Harper," Rhade said softly. "You're handling him wrong."
"Oh," Dylan nodded his head in understanding. "He'll come around."
"He thinks you distrust him."
Dylan grinned, shrugging off Rhade's concern. "Harper works better if he's off center. Tries harder."
Rhade shook his head, getting to his feet. "Not this time, Dylan." he said firmly. "Harper's been trapped here years. We've only been here a few months. This place changes men." He stalked toward the door with the parting shot, "And he knows we were going after that slipstream without him." He paused, casting a glare over his shoulder. "Why would we have done that if we'd planned to take him out of here with us."
*
Staring, wide-eyed, into the darkness, Harper slit the skin of his shoulder. His smile was dark and lost, but satisfied. He tilted his head and watched the blood pulse free, following the path of the blade, releasing the deep dark agony that threatened to consume him.
Doyle knew the truth.
His mirthless smile remained, even though he sucked in a pained and shuddering breath as he made another deeper slice through his shoulder.
Doyle was remembering more and more of her history with Dylan.
The blade slashed again. With enthusiasm. Endorphin fueled joy.
Dylan would have left him.
He grimaced with self-hatred burning in his iced over gaze. And inflicted yet another deeper stab to his flesh. This one even more vicious than before. An injury meant to maim, not just draw securer from.
His gaze moved to the blood pooling around him. He giggled, reflecting that there was quite a lot. More than there should be safely. Compelled by the weight of his anguish, his guilt...his loneliness, he slashed out desperately, cutting deeply into his stomach this time, then staggered, dropping the knife at his feet. Desolate eyes traced the path of blood coursing unhampered down his chest.
A wave of dizziness took him and he slumped into a near-by chair.
Tilting his head slightly to the side he dragged a finger through the rivulets of blood. He lifted the blood smeared digit to his mouth, sucking it off like it were candy. He dipped his finger into his hot blood once more, licking it off again, then again and again, until finally he rubbed his palm in the gore and continued to lap it up, devouring his pain as it flowed from him.
*
Rhade stalked through Harper's quarters, booming his name through the halls.
"Harper is busy." Doyle said, gliding to intercept the abrasive man. "He doesn't want to be disturbed."
"Drinking?" Rhade demanded, staring darkly into her steady eyes.
Doyle stilled suddenly, her senses telling her exactly what was going on in Harper's rooms. "That's his business."
Shaking his head, Rhade scanned the dark rooms for a sign of the man who had worried his thoughts most of the night. "I want to talk to him."
"Rhade," her voice came out strange, strangled. "Leave him alone."
Something in her voice, her eyes, alerted the man to danger and he grasped Doyle's upper arms, his dark gaze probing her face for the truth. "I need to see him, Doyle." he said firmly. "He...there's something not right in him. Something that .." He shrugged. "Doyle, please."
*
Feeling light-headed, but needing more, Harper leaned over to retrieve his blade.
The world tilted under him and he crashed in a heap on the floor. A high-pitched giggle escaped his white lips as he rolled over and crumpled again. Another giggle burst from his lips followed by a curse when he discovered the blade was several feet out of reach.
Drawing a deep breath he began to inch his way toward the blade that would release the anguish that was rebuilding inside him.
*
Rhade knew the sound of a body hitting ground as well as any man. His hard glare stabbed into Doyle's wide eyes and he thrust her aside, stalking toward the door that concealed his goal.
He threw the door open in time to see Harper's fingers curl around the handle of the bloodied dagger.
Harper's head came round slowly, his vision unfocused and swirling as his blood pulsed steadily out on the floor
Rhade's eyes widened, taking in the blood-smeared face. The bloodied hand clutching the dagger as if his life depended on it. The dead emotionless gaze of the once hyper alive engineer.
He had no idea how he crossed the space between them, only knew he suddenly had a limp bundle of blood-stained engineer in his arms. He wrenched the dagger from unresisting fingers and hurled it across the room.
"Harper, look at me, boy."
Harper's head lolled on Rhade's arm and he smiled. "Tired...."
"You stay awake, Harper." Rhade snarled, taking the white terry cloth Doyle handed him and pressed it against the of the worst seeping cuts. "You hear me. Stay awake."
"Strike three." Harper whispered.
Doyle went down on one knee next to him, hit by a memory that could only come from Rommie. A memory of Dylan telling Harper he had two strikes against him. Telling him three and your out.
She met Rhade's gaze letting him read the fear in her eyes. "Will he live?"
Rhade threw her a glare, but did not answer.
Harper's head rolled a bit and he managed a wavery smile for her. "....tired."
His body shuddered as his lids closed over serene eyes.
Panicking, Rhade pushed to his feet, carrying the limp engineer with him. Without a word he pivoted on his heel and dashed from the room, toward the infirmary.
Doyle shrugged, but put a call over the intercom that Trance was needed in sick bay.
END????
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