Booker DeWitt isn't father of the year (dewitt) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-06-12 23:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, booker dewitt, clarice ferguson (blink), elizabeth comstock, moira mactaggert |
You have power
Who: Booker, Clarice, Moira, and Elizabeth
What: Booker goes seeking revenge for Neena. It doesn't go well.
When: Today
Where: Places
Rating: PG-13, TW for Violence and blood
Booker had spent hours staring at Neena’s motionless form. He’d had a lot to think about. Missed opportunities and missed chances, but he watched the way Clarice held Neena’s hand and knew that there was jack-all he could do. Or would do, anyway. He’d done many bad things, but stealing a woman from someone else wasn’t one of them.
It was that which drove him though. There was a different sort of inevitability that made him walk out of that hospital room. He paused, long enough, to look at his daughter napping in a chair. She didn’t know yet. She didn’t know yet that he and Comstock were one and the same. That the only way to stop Columbia from ever happening would be to stop him from becoming that monster.
If Booker DeWitt died before he became Comstock, then things would be better for everyone and somewhere, somehow, he wouldn’t lose Anna. That’s what the dreams told him would happen, and he placed a kiss on Elizabeth’s brow before he walked out the door.
He didn’t really have a plan in mind. Mostly he was going to waltz in and rip things apart. His powers were strong. Not entirely up to snuff but he had enough vigor to cause some damage, and Cerberus barely had time to react before he was turning their mechs against them with Possession and throwing fireballs down hallways.
The first thing Booker did was liberate a few choice weapons, before moving deeper into the Cerberus base.
“You have power.”
Booker turned around, but the woman who’d spoken wasn’t there. He looked to his left and took a fist right to the face. Booker froze the ground between them and stumbled for cover, opening up with his machinegun.
There were two of them now. Then four, then ten, and then he ran out of juice and ammo.
The woman moved like smoke and shadows, and one copy pushed him to his knees in front of the other.
“She will be pleased.” The woman pushed the barrel of a gun into Booker’s forehead.
“I don’t really care,” Booker said, meeting her eyes with his. “Long as I did enough damage.” And as long as he didn’t exist anymore.
Something heavy collided with the woman just as she pulled the trigger. Booker went down in a spray of blood, before disappearing through a pink portal.
Clarice backflipped through another portal, appearing at the shadowy woman’s left side and breaking her nose with an elbow. She flowed around, jumping from portal to portal as the Cerberus agent tried to track her, still reeling from the initial attack.
Copies appeared around them, and Clarice found herself suddenly on the defensive as one raked a knife across her back and another’s bullet ripped through her side. But she kept her focus firmly on the original, and with a flash, the two disappeared. The copies faded into smoke.
The two fell out of a portal deep inside the agency. Clarice crashed through a table and her opponent splinted Nick Fury’s desk. The porter flipped to her feet, slower than usual as she bled, and ported behind the woman. Her knee connected with the small of the woman’s back. The shadow woman slashed a knife in an arc in front of her, before Clarice blinked them both farther down.
Deep below the Agency were holding cells designed for Cerberus terrorists and people who might not be holdable in a normal jail cell, but within moments of bringing them down there, it was obvious to Clarice that the woman could escape as easily as she could. The two disappeared once more, and when Clarice returned to the Jean Grey Outreach Center, she came alone, landing in a heap on the floor.
Moira, meanwhile, was hard at work on Booker DeWitt…. “Fuck! Someone get her ontae a table!”
“I’m good.” Clarice pulled herself to her feet. “I can stitch myself up.”
“The hell ye are,” Moira snapped. “Sit still an’ let someone keep ye from bleedin’ out. DeWitt’s hangin’ on by a thread here….”
Clarice grabbed a needle anyway.
A hand reached out and stopped her. Elizabeth looked extremely shaken, and some of her father's blood had gotten on her shirt at some point. But her hands were steady, and one of them had already pressed bandaging against Clarice's back, "You can't stitch yourself up. Your hands won't be steady enough when the pain starts. Please... let me do it. I have to do something."
Clarice glanced back at her, the nodded her head. “Okay…” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I was fast enough. She had him on his knees when I got there.”
"You were as fast as you could be. We have to focus on you right now. It's just... probably good that your friend can read minds." Elizabeth didn't want to think about her father. The way it stood now, she was going to be spending more time here than anywhere else.
It seemed like the doctor here needed a hand, anyway. It was a shame she didn't have the kind of paperwork that would let her help out, though she was almost certain she knew how to get her hands on some.
Elizabeth turned her mind back to the task at hand, pulling over a tray of supplies and tending to the bullet wound first, "It's through and through, and seems to have missed the important bits. You're really lucky. Moira will want to take a look at it but we'll get it all cleaned out. We can stitch one side and let the other drain."
Clarice nodded, wincing as Elizabeth worked, but she stared more at Booker. She might have jealousy issues when it came to him, but she didn’t want to see him die. “I must have ported a dozen bullets away from me.”
"It's a shame you didn't dodge a dozen and one," Elizabeth remarked, dryly. She handed Clarice some pills and a cup of water before she got started with the stitches, following Clarice's gaze to Booker and frowning, "She's... her, isn't she? The one he... gets so upset about all the time. And you're her woman."
The pink woman nodded her head, glancing back at Elizabeth. “Yeah...She’s….her. And it’s not entirely … one-sided.” It hurt her to say that out loud, but it was the truth, and there was no harm in saying that right now.
"Love must be more complicated than they make it look in the books and movies," Elizabeth observed, while returning her attention to tending Clarice's wounds.
She wasn't sure what else to say. She knew how Booker felt about Neena - now that she knew that Neena was the woman in question. How Clarice felt about Neena wasn't in question, either, and Neena was in a coma. It's not like the other woman could chime in.
"You should bite down on something," She finally said, as she picked up the needle again, "This part is probably going to hurt."