Dan saw what happened to Wynonna and ends up cornered. Fandral saw what was about to happen to Dan and decided to be
a distraction.
⚠
MENTIONS OF TRAUMA, SUBSTANCE ABUSE, AND CHARACTER DEATH.
Dan had asked Wynonna not to go outside. He’d hoped she would listen to him. Clearly, she didn’t.
He only saw the tail end of what had happened from the window of his dormitory. He’d been doing his best to remain calm and quiet. He didn’t want to attract those creatures to Butler Hall for multiple reasons. Everyone’s safety, for one, of course. But Dan was also concerned about what (OR WHO DANNNNEEEEEEE BOY) was locked up in the rooms on the second and third floor. As yet nothing had seemed to disturb them. They hadn’t been particularly loud either. But Dan knew they were there. And he knew they hadn’t left. What he didn’t know, however, was what it would take to release them.
He just hoped like hell a bunch of eyeless creatures weren’t the lynch pin to that particular disaster. One horror was enough. And if Butler Hall wasn’t safe then they were all screwed.
Dan should have stayed inside, as well. But he didn’t listen to his own judgment. And he didn’t listen to Tony either. All he listened to was his gut instinct when he saw Wynonna — his roommate from day one and his friend — fall at the lethal claws of one of those monsters. And he saw Peacemaker, too, tumble into the grass.
He was outside faster than he realized, kneeling down at her decapitated body. His thoughts were a jumble. He looked at her and he saw
(REDRUM)
(TAKE YOUR MEDICINE, YOU LITTLE PUP)
(PLAY WITH US DANNNNEEEEE)
so much blood. And it wasn’t just the sight of it and the memory of his own history with death and massacre which overwhelmed him. It was the smell. The sharp, ferrous scent of horror. He knew it well. Too well.
He’d forgotten to be quiet.
The creature which had killed Wynonna and had headed off to find new meat, stopped in its tracks and turned at the sound of Dan slumping to his knees. It rumbled a low growl. Dan picked up Peacemaker on instinct. The creature crept closer.
(SHHHHHHH DANNY)
He raised the revolver and
click.
Fandral had taken it upon himself (more or less out of a desire to not feel entirely useless) to patrol the corridors of Butler Hall in shifts. He didn’t want to coop himself up in his room, but he also knew full well that he didn’t necessarily have the sort of skills needed to do battle against these creatures, whatever they were.
What he did know was that they were impenetrable, blind, and had the best hearing of possibly anything he’d ever encountered. Every now and then one of the creatures would ram itself into the side of the building, desperate to get to whatever it was inside that was driving it mad -- that was the only thing he could think to describe how they reacted to any noise. Madness. Desperate. It intrigued him, but also frightened him in a sense because staying utterly silent was a near impossible feat for one person, let alone a whole group of them.
It was during one of these patrols that he caught sight of someone being approached by one of these monsters. Their arm was up and a revolver was in their hand -- he recognized the man, but couldn’t say that he actually knew him. Still. He was one of theirs and if something didn’t happen, he’d be feld much sooner rather than later.
As quietly as he could and without much thought, he slipped out of the nearest door. Did he have a plan? Well, he was going to try, at least. He could be fast -- but was he fast enough to outrun one of these things? He licked his lips and gripped his rapier in his hand, waving his arms above his head in an attempt to get the man’s attention.
He’d be a distraction. He could run off in the opposite direction and make a horrendous amount of noise, pulling the monster away from Dan so that he could escape and make it back to Butler safely. Would he be able to get back to safety himself? Not that he was out there, he wasn’t so sure, but better him than everyone else. Right?
Better him than Loki.
Better him than Natasha.
Better him than Julia or Allison or Margo or--
He swallowed hard and quietly made his way down the steps until his toes met green grass, trying to maintain his breathing despite his heart thudding in his chest.
Shit.
Dan remembered at the last moment what Wynonna had said about her weapon only working for the chosen one. The heir as she referred to it. The Earp heir. And clearly that was not Dan. Hell, with Wynonna dead on the ground that might not be anyone. It wouldn’t work for him. It wouldn’t work for anyone. It was useless.
Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.
He should have let it go, but something inside of him, maybe instinct or maybe Tony, told him to hold onto it. Wynonna wouldn’t want it left on the ground. Dan didn’t know the entirety of the story, only the pieces she’d told him back when they shared a room together, but he gathered that Peacemaker was sacred to her in many ways. He couldn’t do anything for her body, but he could protect the thing that was important to her. At least for as long as he lived.
He stumbled backwards. The creature raised itself up on its haunches.
Dan was no stranger to
(a disembodied custard pie)
(floating in the sky)
monsters, but these creatures were alien. The back of his mind burned with the Shining. He caught a flash of a violent, carnivorous thought. It hit him like a truck going ninety miles an hour along a sharp sidewinder curve. Even Tony was scared. And Tony was never scared.
What do I do? What do I do?!
(Roll over. Play dead. Fetch. Play dead. Sit up. Play dead.)
Dan tried to hold his breath. He tried not to make a sound. The sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
And then he caught a glimpse of someone waving out of the corner of his eye. Dan froze.
He hoped that the sun would glisten off of the metal of his rapier and catch his attention -- so when he saw the other man freeze, he thought that perhaps it had worked. Or had it? There was really no telling from this distance. Either way, he was in immediate danger with the creature up on his back legs, ready to strike at the next sound.
They were hideous beasts, weren’t they?
But his instinct to protect kicked in, that deeply rooted duty to -- what? Be a hero? Not necessarily, but someone was in danger and he wasn’t the sort to not do something about it.
Despite his knuckle-white grip on the handle of the sword in his hand, he moved further away from the building, almost as if he was circling around the pair of them. Quiet, quiet, quiet…
Once he felt that perhaps the distance would be enough to keep the monster from attacking Dan, he took in a slow breath and then whistled. It was a brief sound, but it carried on the wind in the direction of the monster -- whose attention was immediately pulled away from the man in front of it and in the direction of Fandral.
Now what?
Fuck.
He turned and ran -- hopefully he could just get back inside of Butler from another entrance, but that was assuming he could outrun this thing at all.
Maybe he should have just stayed deathly still instead, but any sound from Dan would have caused it to attack him instead and… well, it just wasn’t a winning situation either way, was it?
What the hell was that man doing?
Dan blinked. His head beat rapidly in his chest. It was so loud he almost thought the entire campus could hear it. But when Fandral whistled he felt his stomach drop. That was crazy.
Dan knew who Fandral was because he knew who Loki was. Dan wasn’t very active on the net board, but he did pay attention. He knew the man was a god of some kind in his world, but he didn’t know if that meant he was impervious to death. He didn’t know if these alien creatures could rip him to shreds with a single swipe. He hoped not. As much as Dan didn’t like Loki, he didn’t think anyone at Derleth deserved to die. Least of all someone who was willing to run out and save a stranger’s life.
There must have been something he could do.
(No, Danny!)
(Don’t do it, Danny!)
(DOOOO EEEEETTTTT, DANNEEEEEEEE)
(No!)
(DO IT AND PLAY WITH US, DANNY! WE’RE SO LONELY, DANNY!)
Dan had never used his abilities on something otherworldly before. Well, ghosts were kind of otherworldly, but not in the same way that these creatures were. He didn’t know if he could stop them. He didn’t even know if he could reach them, although that piercing thought of tearing flesh had come from something. And it wasn’t Dan. But was it wise to break into the mind of one of these beasts? What if he couldn’t get out? What if he was trapped inside of it?
There wasn’t much time to think about it, however. If he was going to do something he had to do it quickly. He had to do it now.
He tried to focus. He bit down on his lower lip, closed his eyes, and—
(NO, DANNY!)
—he was shoved back mentally by Tony. Hard enough that it almost sent him falling to the ground.
Dan opened his eyes and watched as Fandral raced away from the creature. There wasn’t anything he could do. Not if Tony didn’t let him. So Dan did the only thing he could do. He turned and ran back in the direction of Butler Hall.
He hoped that Dan was going to run. Get to safety, protect yourself. If more of these beasts pursued them, he’d continue to be a distraction so that the others would stay safe. What was the harm in it? He’d be back next week, wouldn’t he? Death was only temporary.
That didn’t mean death didn’t hurt, though.
Fandral looked back over his shoulder and saw Dan running toward Butler. Except it was that one moment of not paying attention to where his feet were going that might’ve been his downfall. God or not, running still required watching where you were going so you didn’t trip over anything. Which is exactly what Fandral did -- how cliche.
The stone that his foot caught on seemed to come from nowhere and he stumbled, awkwardly, in an attempt to keep his balance. Unfortunately, it also meant causing more noise than he’d meant to.
Where he had one monster pursuing him, another was coming out of the trees of the Green, both heading right toward him. There was nothing he could do. He didn’t have magic, he didn’t have powers; he was merely strong. And useless. Just as he’d been against Hela. He knew his chances of out running one of the creatures had been small already, but two? He’d never be that lucky and Butler Hall felt so far away now.
For a moment time seemed to slow, just as it had when he’d raised his sword to try and protect Asgard from whatever Hela would bring down upon his people. Now it dragged as he found his footing and turned, just in time to see one of the creatures open the protective outer shell surrounding its head, ridiculously sharp teeth bared, ready to attack him.
Dan didn’t look back until he reached the entrance to Butler Hall. He just ran and ran as if his life depended on it. Because it did. He wasn’t particularly athletic. He’d never been the track star type. But the distance he covered in that short amount of time was impressive. All the while he hoped
(DON’T LOOK BACK, DANNY!)
that Fandral had managed to make it to safety. And that his own frantic sprint across the grounds hadn’t attracted anymore of those monsters.
Once he reached the door he glanced back over his shoulder. By some miracle — Fandral — he hadn’t been followed. But when he saw his rescuer stumble forward, Dan winced.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Tony screamed in his head.
(GET INSIDE, DANNY!)
Dan threw open the door to the building and leapt inside, quickly pulling it shut behind him. He exhaled a heavy panting breath and tugged Peacemaker to his chest. Then he peered out the small window by the door, trying to get a better glimpse of Fandral.
Please make it. Please make it.
The creature’s protective shell opened. If it made a sound, Dan couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his own chest and Tony’s frantic hollering.
(!!!)
Unfortunately, Fandral was quickly coming to terms with the fact that he absolutely wasn’t going to make it. Not with one of the beasts ready to pounce while another lurked nearby.
He’d seen some really strange and admittedly terrifying things in his lifetime -- you’re bound to when you live as long as Asgardians do. But these things were new and horrific in their own right. He wondered where they came from? How did they find themselves on Midgard? Assuming this was Midgard. It seemed like earth, anyways.
The thing leaned in closer as if it was sniffing him out and Fandral steadied himself, his rapier gripped tightly in his hand, willing it to come just another foot or so closer so that he could drive his sword right through its head. The armor was open, so even if he did die in the process, at least he would manage to take out one of the creatures at the same time.
Except when he shifted his weight, something under his foot snapped and suddenly timing was everything. The creature lunged and Fandral hollered, bringing his sword down on the monster’s head -- except the shell closed up before the blade could pierce any fleshy parts and shattered against it, broken shards of metal falling down into the grass beneath them. Fandral had no time to react to that, to his sword in jagged ruins, before he was knocked to his knees.
It took another moment for him to realize there was a deep aching feeling in his stomach. He gasped softly and tasted the copper of blood in his mouth. It felt so familiar, in a way. Except this time when he brought his hand up it came back wet with fresh blood. Oh. He teetered a little on his knees, his vision starting to blur around the edges as he slowly looked down to see what was causing the pain.
He shouldn’t have done that. No. It was one thing to find yourself on the brink of death from daggers that had been shot into your chest, it was another to see your own insides trying to fall out from the wound that had been made. The creature had swiped at him and he could only assume had caught him with claws. Well, it succeeded.
Fandral dropped the broken handle of his sword and slumped down into the grass, his hands pressing against his stomach in a feeble attempt to keep his bowels in his body where they belonged, eyes staring up toward the sky as his vision waned.
Dan witnessed the attack through the dirt-smudged window. When Fandral raised his blade, Dan felt a whoosh of hope that he might be able to smite the creature. But that hope was quickly dashed when the monster’s shield closed and the rapier shattered into pieces. Then came the swipe and a rush of nausea swept over Dan. He stared for what felt like minutes, although it was barely more than a few seconds, before he slumped down to the ground, his back against the wall.
Tony was quiet in his mind. Pensive. Mournful. Sick.
Delbert Grady’s daughters, however, were not quite as still. Neither were the ghosts on the second and third floors. Or his father. Or himself.
(NOW IT’S YOUR TURN)
(JOIN US)
(COME PLAY WITH US, DANNNNEEEEE)
(GO OUTSIDE, DANNY BOY)
(TAKE YOUR MEDICINE YOU, WORTHLESS PUP)
(HAVE A DRINK, DAN)
(HAVE A DRIIIIIIIINK)
Dan clenched his fingers around Peacemaker and tried not to think about either Wynonna or Fandral. He tried to think about the days of the week instead. Day three. Four to go. They were almost halfway there.
Four to go.
He could do it. He could make it. He could live. He could ignore the voices and the urge to drown them all away.