Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 73, AU, 18
Dec. 15th, 2010 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Silk and Steel, Part 73
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Lester, Becker, Leek, Thomson, Nick, Lyle, Ditzy, Annie
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan’s execution is due to start at 4pm and Lester isn’t expecting any last minute reprieve.
Warning : Slave!fic.
A/N : This is the last instalment of the current plot arc. There will now be a (hopefully) short hiatus while we write the final series arc. A very big thanks to everyone who has stuck with us through the events of the last six months!
Lester glanced at his watch yet again.
It was 15:38 and the government executioner was likely to be arriving at the ARC any minute. He’d seen Leek briefly, earlier in the afternoon, and he knew that very shortly he’d be escorted to the Punishment Room to witness Ryan’s execution. Leek would be present, as would Captain Thomson. He wasn’t sure who else would actually be present in the room, but he knew that all work in the ARC would come to a standstill while the flogging was broadcast on screens throughout the building.
A cold knot of despair had formed in his stomach and he’d long since stopped expecting any sort of reprieve for Ryan. All he was concentrating on now was getting through the coming ordeal without breaking down publically. He could give in to his emotions afterwards, in the privacy of his own rooms.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor told their own story. Even before whoever it was had a chance to knock, Lester opened the door and found himself staring up at Captain Becker.
The young soldier saluted smartly.
“You’re my escort for the afternoon, are you, Becker?”
Becker nodded and stood aside to allow Lester to precede him down the corridor. The two guards on the door fell into step behind them. People were already gathering in the atrium, standing around in small groups, all pretence of work forgotten. Connor was sitting in front of the ADD, probably hoping for a call out to disrupt the plans for the televised execution. Abby, hovering next to him like an anxious pixie, looked up to the first floor and mustered a small smile for Lester. He noticed that for once she was devoid of her normal heavy eye make-up and looked considerably younger without it.
Lester paused at the top of the ramp. Leek was in the outer office, standing next to Lorraine Wilkes. They both stopped when they saw him and Lester could see that Lorraine had been crying. He turned away, unable to bear the look of pity on her face.
The lights flickered for a moment and then went out. A second later, they came back on again, slightly dimmer this time, which indicated a switch to the back-up generators in the basement. This was the third time they’d had a power outage that day. It looked very much like the contractors still hadn’t finished playing with the electrics. Lester started the long walk down the ramp into the atrium. The lights flickered twice more and then full power was restored. He could see Connor crouched over his various keyboards, fingers flying, checking and re-checking the Anomaly Detector’s systems.
Captain Thomson strode into the atrium, a look of irritation on his normally impassive face. “Temple, what the hell is going on?”
Connor swivelled around on his chair, looking more annoyed than afraid. “It’s those bloody contractors again. They keep switching us to auxiliary power. If they crash my systems we’ll be in a right mess.”
Thomson rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to agree with Norman on the subject of that bunch of cowboys. We’ll have to hope your systems are sufficiently robust, Mr Temple.” The captain glanced at the wall clock and Lester followed his eyes.
15.47.
Lester drew in a deep breath and kept walking.
The Punishment Room was on the floor below the atrium. He made his way into the corridor and pushed open the door to the stairs. At least the electricians had mustered enough common sense to put ‘Do Not Use’ signs outside the lift doors. As he stepped through the doorway, a muffled shout from below, followed by a sudden gunshot, broke the silence. A second loud report went off almost immediately.
Before Lester had even managed to register what was happening, Thomson pushed past him and took the stairs at a run. Becker put his hand on Lester’s shoulder as if to hold him back, but Lester shook the young captain off and followed Thomson.
People were already crowded into the corridor, coming out of the doors to various offices and laboratories. Lester shouldered his way through them in Thomson’s wake, with Becker at his heels.
“Get back!” Thomson ordered. “Clear this corridor, now!”
No one moved. Thomson grabbed hold of a white-coated technician and pushed him unceremoniously back into one of the rooms, shoving another two people after him and slamming the door behind them.
Lester found himself staring at Nick Cutter across the corridor. The scientist had a look of naked shock in his eyes.
* * * * *
Nick dragged his eyes away from Lester and forced himself to look again at the sight that had met his eyes when he’d hurtled out of his laboratory in response to the noise from the corridor.
On the floor, face down in a pool of spreading blood, was a man wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a black, long-sleeved tee-shirt. Two shots had been fired: one had taken the man in the lower back, blowing a fist-sized hole in his spine; the other had hit him between the shoulder blades with much the same effect.
Standing next to the body, a pistol still held in one hand, was Ditzy, the normally mild-mannered medic. His face was a mask of horror. Behind him, a soldier that Nick recognised as one of the other medics was kneeling on the floor, retching, his hands pressed to his chest.
“He elbowed Wilkes and grabbed his gun,” Ditzy said, looking like a man waking up from a nightmare. He met Thomson’s eyes and shook his head slowly, even though no question had been asked. “I yelled at him to stop, sir…”
The Section 42 captain went down on one knee and rolled the body over onto its back. Captain Ryan’s grey eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.
Someone – Nick didn’t know who – was noisily sick and he heard Lester breathe the words, “Oh dear God…”
All the anger and frustration that Nick had felt since arriving in this sick travesty of a world suddenly boiled over. “You fucking shot him!” he yelled, throwing the words like missiles at the stunned medic. “You fucking shot him, you bastard! He was your friend, and you shot him in the back!”
The door into the corridor was pushed open again and Nick saw Lyle come through the doors at a run, Oliver Leek no more than a few paces behind him. The lieutenant’s face held the same look of numb shock as Ditzy’s. He went to his knees next to Ryan’s body and started feeling frantically for a pulse in his neck.
“He’s got two fucking great big holes in him, man, can’t you see he’s dead?” Nick was shaking with reaction now, staring down at the body of a man he’d now seen dead on two separate occasions. Once under the harsh glare of the Permian sun, now under the dimmer lights of a corridor of a government facility that didn’t even exist in the world he’d left behind. “He’s just been killed by someone who was meant to be his friend! What the fuck is it with you people? Have those collars taken away your sense of right and wrong? Doesn’t friendship matter a damn in this fucking world?”
Nick stared around him angrily, daring anyone to disagree with him as his hands balled automatically into fists.
Ditzy just stared at him and shook his head numbly.
Becker reached out and took the pistol from the medic’s nerveless fingers before ejecting the magazine and stowing it in one of the pockets in his equipment vest.
Thomson put his hand on Lyle’s arm. “He’s dead, Jon.” He reached out and gently closed Ryan’s eyes. Nick watched him in amazement. Thomson was the man who’d overseen Ryan’s torture and Lester’s removal from power. He’d flogged Connor and had spent the previous day driving the lad into a state of total distraction. The man was a sadistic bully.
Nick’s fury overflowed again and without thinking he stepped forward and grabbed Thomson’s shoulder. “Leave him alone! You aren’t fit to lick Ryan’s boots!”
Thomson surged to his feet. He topped Nick by nearly three inches in height and was considerably broader, but considerations like that had never stopped Nick when his blood was up. Without even thinking, he pulled his arm back and swung his fist into Thomson’s face. The soldier blocked the blow easily and a moment later, Nick found himself slammed face first against the wall, his right arm rammed painfully up his back. A second later, Thomson was holding his other wrist as well and dragging him around to face Ryan’s broken body.
“Look at him, Cutter,” Thomson hissed in his ear, his anger only barely under control. “Yes, he’s dead. Two 9mm bullets at close range do a lot of damage, but not as much damage as a bull-whip in the hands of an expert. And the man who’s probably driving in through the main gates right now is very good at his job. He enjoys his job as well, so Ryan had about an hour left to live and he was going to spend the vast majority of that time in fucking agony.”
Nick could feel Thomson’s hands shaking slightly with fury, even though his voice was as controlled as ever.
The captain drew breath and continued. “This might have offended your delicate sensibilities, but at least it was quick. Look at him, Cutter. You’re right, he’s dead. That means it’s over for him and it was over quickly. Why the hell do you think Ryan did what he did? He knew what the consequences would be, so don’t you dare blame Owen for this, he did what he had to do, and you should be fucking thankful that he had the guts to do it.”
Thomson gave Nick a hard shove that sent him sprawling. Nick’s foot slipped in the spreading pool of blood and as he hit the floor, Thomson’s words sank in and the fight went out of him as suddenly as it had flared up.
He stared at Thomson’s feet as the man’s words registered fully.
* * * * *
Lester fought for control as Nick launched into his tirade at Thomson.
He hadn’t expected it to end like this. Not with Ryan lying dead at his feet in a corridor, rather than tied to a wall in the Punishment Room, his back a bloody ruin. Thomson was right, it had been quick. In fact the entire thing had almost certainly been wholly staged. He’d always hoped that the soldiers would have found some way of taking care of their own, but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected something like this.
If it had been deliberate, he had to admit that Owen deserved an Oscar for his performance. The medic was still standing there, staring down at the body, a blank look on his face. The one who had certainly had no inkling about what had been intended was Lyle. The lieutenant was still on his knees, head bowed, one of Ryan’s hands held tightly in his hands. His shoulders were shaking and Lester knew that he was crying.
“Clear this corridor.” The order had come from Oliver Leek. “I want this corridor cleared, now! Get back to your offices, all of you.” He stepped up to Lyle’s side and gripped his shoulder firmly. Lester heard him murmur, “I’m sorry, Jon, I’m bloody sorry, but Thomson’s right. Better this way than the other. Don’t fall apart on me now, please.”
With an obvious effort of will, Lyle stood up, heedless of the blood on his hands and on the knees of his black combat trousers. He met Thomson’s eyes and received an approving nod.
“Stand down, Lieutenant,” Thomson said quietly. “Captain Becker will take personal responsibility for Mr Leek’s safety. Your men need you now.” He glanced at Ditzy and said, “There will need to be an enquiry, Owen, but I have no doubt that it will conclude Captain Ryan died whilst attempting to escape. Your decisive action no doubt saved the lives of others. I’ll take a statement from you shortly, but for now, I believe I have an executioner to appease.” He turned and looked enquiringly at Leek.
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll be happy to see the executioner in my office, should it prove necessary.” Leek glanced up at the security camera mounted high on the wall of the corridor and exchanged a meaningful look with Thomson that didn’t escape Lester’s notice.
Thomson saluted smartly and Lester watched as he directed a withering glare at Nick Cutter before muttering to no one in particular, “Get this mess cleared up and make sure that Temple wipes the security tapes. I do believe the havoc being wreaked by the contractors will have created an unfortunate and equally unsurprising series of gaps, here and elsewhere.”
With that, Thomson turned on his heel and marched off up the stairs, leaving everyone still standing in the corridor staring blankly at each other in surprise.
Thomson had gone further than Lester had expected in being willing to cover up what had happened in the corridor, even to the extent of implicating himself in what was obviously going to be a conspiracy of impressive proportions. But at the end of the day, for all his faults, the man was a soldier to the core and he clearly had no liking for the sentence that had been passed on Ryan and he now appeared to feel a degree of responsibility for the dead captain’s men as well.
Nick opened his mouth to speak and was waved into silence by Leek. “Not now, Professor. I think you’ve said enough. Perhaps you’d like to make yourself useful and pass the unfortunate news to your colleagues in the atrium.” He shot Nick a hard stare and added under his breath, “Discreetly, please. As Captain Thomson has just pointed out, Mr Temple has a job to do.”
For once, Nick did as he’d been bidden and, with a last look at Ryan’s body, he followed Thomson up the stairs.
Lester let out a long, slow breath and forced himself to stare down at the body of the man who’d been his lover. A man to whom he’d finally admitted his feelings. Ryan’s face was unmarked and expressionless. His right arm was folded on his chest, where Lyle had placed it, but his other arm was sprawled out on the blood-stained floor. Moving slowly but deliberately, Lester avoided the worst of the blood and made his way around to Ryan’s side.
He heard footsteps approaching down the corridor and glanced up to see Annie Morris coming towards him, tears on her cheeks, with the green-eyed soldier who’d become her shadow holding her hand tightly. His face was set in a murderous expression and Lester hoped Lyle really would be able to contain his own and his men’s reactions.
“James…” Annie held her free hand out to him, her expression beseeching.
Lester shook his head sharply. He was barely in control of his own emotions and had no resources left to handle anyone else’s pain. Avoiding Annie’s eyes, he went down on one knee next to Ryan and gently lifted his slightly curled hand from the white floor tiles, cradling it in his hands, stroking the long fingers that he’d come to know so well. Fingers that had explored every part of Lester’s body, fingers that had brought Lester more pleasure than he’d ever known from another human being.
The sleeve of Ryan’s tee-shirt slipped back by a few inches and Lester stared down at the smooth, unmarked skin on the inside of the dead man’s wrist. Skin that had previously borne the angry red scar that Ryan had deliberately inflicted on himself using the tines of a fork bent to resemble Lester’s initials.
A shiver ran through Lester’s body as his eyes widened in shock. He ran his thumb tentatively over already cool flesh. The hand rested limply in his. For the second time in only a few minutes, Lester fought a desperate battle for control as his thoughts and emotions whirled around with the dizzying speed of a fairground ride.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The words were quietly spoken but still jolted Lester abruptly from his reverie.
Lester ran his fingertips again over the pale wrist, then placed the hand carefully on the man’s chest before standing up and meeting Ditzy’s eyes. “You did what you had to, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “And for that, I’m in your debt. As Captain Thomson said, better this way than an executioner’s whip.”
And with that, steadfastly not making eye contact with anyone, Lester made his way up the stairs and through the atrium, with Captain Becker at his heels like a dark shadow.
Lester had no idea what had been done, or how, but he did know that he wanted to be safely inside the privacy of his own rooms before he allowed himself the luxury of finally giving in to his emotions.
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Lester, Becker, Leek, Thomson, Nick, Lyle, Ditzy, Annie
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan’s execution is due to start at 4pm and Lester isn’t expecting any last minute reprieve.
Warning : Slave!fic.
A/N : This is the last instalment of the current plot arc. There will now be a (hopefully) short hiatus while we write the final series arc. A very big thanks to everyone who has stuck with us through the events of the last six months!
Lester glanced at his watch yet again.
It was 15:38 and the government executioner was likely to be arriving at the ARC any minute. He’d seen Leek briefly, earlier in the afternoon, and he knew that very shortly he’d be escorted to the Punishment Room to witness Ryan’s execution. Leek would be present, as would Captain Thomson. He wasn’t sure who else would actually be present in the room, but he knew that all work in the ARC would come to a standstill while the flogging was broadcast on screens throughout the building.
A cold knot of despair had formed in his stomach and he’d long since stopped expecting any sort of reprieve for Ryan. All he was concentrating on now was getting through the coming ordeal without breaking down publically. He could give in to his emotions afterwards, in the privacy of his own rooms.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor told their own story. Even before whoever it was had a chance to knock, Lester opened the door and found himself staring up at Captain Becker.
The young soldier saluted smartly.
“You’re my escort for the afternoon, are you, Becker?”
Becker nodded and stood aside to allow Lester to precede him down the corridor. The two guards on the door fell into step behind them. People were already gathering in the atrium, standing around in small groups, all pretence of work forgotten. Connor was sitting in front of the ADD, probably hoping for a call out to disrupt the plans for the televised execution. Abby, hovering next to him like an anxious pixie, looked up to the first floor and mustered a small smile for Lester. He noticed that for once she was devoid of her normal heavy eye make-up and looked considerably younger without it.
Lester paused at the top of the ramp. Leek was in the outer office, standing next to Lorraine Wilkes. They both stopped when they saw him and Lester could see that Lorraine had been crying. He turned away, unable to bear the look of pity on her face.
The lights flickered for a moment and then went out. A second later, they came back on again, slightly dimmer this time, which indicated a switch to the back-up generators in the basement. This was the third time they’d had a power outage that day. It looked very much like the contractors still hadn’t finished playing with the electrics. Lester started the long walk down the ramp into the atrium. The lights flickered twice more and then full power was restored. He could see Connor crouched over his various keyboards, fingers flying, checking and re-checking the Anomaly Detector’s systems.
Captain Thomson strode into the atrium, a look of irritation on his normally impassive face. “Temple, what the hell is going on?”
Connor swivelled around on his chair, looking more annoyed than afraid. “It’s those bloody contractors again. They keep switching us to auxiliary power. If they crash my systems we’ll be in a right mess.”
Thomson rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to agree with Norman on the subject of that bunch of cowboys. We’ll have to hope your systems are sufficiently robust, Mr Temple.” The captain glanced at the wall clock and Lester followed his eyes.
15.47.
Lester drew in a deep breath and kept walking.
The Punishment Room was on the floor below the atrium. He made his way into the corridor and pushed open the door to the stairs. At least the electricians had mustered enough common sense to put ‘Do Not Use’ signs outside the lift doors. As he stepped through the doorway, a muffled shout from below, followed by a sudden gunshot, broke the silence. A second loud report went off almost immediately.
Before Lester had even managed to register what was happening, Thomson pushed past him and took the stairs at a run. Becker put his hand on Lester’s shoulder as if to hold him back, but Lester shook the young captain off and followed Thomson.
People were already crowded into the corridor, coming out of the doors to various offices and laboratories. Lester shouldered his way through them in Thomson’s wake, with Becker at his heels.
“Get back!” Thomson ordered. “Clear this corridor, now!”
No one moved. Thomson grabbed hold of a white-coated technician and pushed him unceremoniously back into one of the rooms, shoving another two people after him and slamming the door behind them.
Lester found himself staring at Nick Cutter across the corridor. The scientist had a look of naked shock in his eyes.
* * * * *
Nick dragged his eyes away from Lester and forced himself to look again at the sight that had met his eyes when he’d hurtled out of his laboratory in response to the noise from the corridor.
On the floor, face down in a pool of spreading blood, was a man wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a black, long-sleeved tee-shirt. Two shots had been fired: one had taken the man in the lower back, blowing a fist-sized hole in his spine; the other had hit him between the shoulder blades with much the same effect.
Standing next to the body, a pistol still held in one hand, was Ditzy, the normally mild-mannered medic. His face was a mask of horror. Behind him, a soldier that Nick recognised as one of the other medics was kneeling on the floor, retching, his hands pressed to his chest.
“He elbowed Wilkes and grabbed his gun,” Ditzy said, looking like a man waking up from a nightmare. He met Thomson’s eyes and shook his head slowly, even though no question had been asked. “I yelled at him to stop, sir…”
The Section 42 captain went down on one knee and rolled the body over onto its back. Captain Ryan’s grey eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.
Someone – Nick didn’t know who – was noisily sick and he heard Lester breathe the words, “Oh dear God…”
All the anger and frustration that Nick had felt since arriving in this sick travesty of a world suddenly boiled over. “You fucking shot him!” he yelled, throwing the words like missiles at the stunned medic. “You fucking shot him, you bastard! He was your friend, and you shot him in the back!”
The door into the corridor was pushed open again and Nick saw Lyle come through the doors at a run, Oliver Leek no more than a few paces behind him. The lieutenant’s face held the same look of numb shock as Ditzy’s. He went to his knees next to Ryan’s body and started feeling frantically for a pulse in his neck.
“He’s got two fucking great big holes in him, man, can’t you see he’s dead?” Nick was shaking with reaction now, staring down at the body of a man he’d now seen dead on two separate occasions. Once under the harsh glare of the Permian sun, now under the dimmer lights of a corridor of a government facility that didn’t even exist in the world he’d left behind. “He’s just been killed by someone who was meant to be his friend! What the fuck is it with you people? Have those collars taken away your sense of right and wrong? Doesn’t friendship matter a damn in this fucking world?”
Nick stared around him angrily, daring anyone to disagree with him as his hands balled automatically into fists.
Ditzy just stared at him and shook his head numbly.
Becker reached out and took the pistol from the medic’s nerveless fingers before ejecting the magazine and stowing it in one of the pockets in his equipment vest.
Thomson put his hand on Lyle’s arm. “He’s dead, Jon.” He reached out and gently closed Ryan’s eyes. Nick watched him in amazement. Thomson was the man who’d overseen Ryan’s torture and Lester’s removal from power. He’d flogged Connor and had spent the previous day driving the lad into a state of total distraction. The man was a sadistic bully.
Nick’s fury overflowed again and without thinking he stepped forward and grabbed Thomson’s shoulder. “Leave him alone! You aren’t fit to lick Ryan’s boots!”
Thomson surged to his feet. He topped Nick by nearly three inches in height and was considerably broader, but considerations like that had never stopped Nick when his blood was up. Without even thinking, he pulled his arm back and swung his fist into Thomson’s face. The soldier blocked the blow easily and a moment later, Nick found himself slammed face first against the wall, his right arm rammed painfully up his back. A second later, Thomson was holding his other wrist as well and dragging him around to face Ryan’s broken body.
“Look at him, Cutter,” Thomson hissed in his ear, his anger only barely under control. “Yes, he’s dead. Two 9mm bullets at close range do a lot of damage, but not as much damage as a bull-whip in the hands of an expert. And the man who’s probably driving in through the main gates right now is very good at his job. He enjoys his job as well, so Ryan had about an hour left to live and he was going to spend the vast majority of that time in fucking agony.”
Nick could feel Thomson’s hands shaking slightly with fury, even though his voice was as controlled as ever.
The captain drew breath and continued. “This might have offended your delicate sensibilities, but at least it was quick. Look at him, Cutter. You’re right, he’s dead. That means it’s over for him and it was over quickly. Why the hell do you think Ryan did what he did? He knew what the consequences would be, so don’t you dare blame Owen for this, he did what he had to do, and you should be fucking thankful that he had the guts to do it.”
Thomson gave Nick a hard shove that sent him sprawling. Nick’s foot slipped in the spreading pool of blood and as he hit the floor, Thomson’s words sank in and the fight went out of him as suddenly as it had flared up.
He stared at Thomson’s feet as the man’s words registered fully.
* * * * *
Lester fought for control as Nick launched into his tirade at Thomson.
He hadn’t expected it to end like this. Not with Ryan lying dead at his feet in a corridor, rather than tied to a wall in the Punishment Room, his back a bloody ruin. Thomson was right, it had been quick. In fact the entire thing had almost certainly been wholly staged. He’d always hoped that the soldiers would have found some way of taking care of their own, but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected something like this.
If it had been deliberate, he had to admit that Owen deserved an Oscar for his performance. The medic was still standing there, staring down at the body, a blank look on his face. The one who had certainly had no inkling about what had been intended was Lyle. The lieutenant was still on his knees, head bowed, one of Ryan’s hands held tightly in his hands. His shoulders were shaking and Lester knew that he was crying.
“Clear this corridor.” The order had come from Oliver Leek. “I want this corridor cleared, now! Get back to your offices, all of you.” He stepped up to Lyle’s side and gripped his shoulder firmly. Lester heard him murmur, “I’m sorry, Jon, I’m bloody sorry, but Thomson’s right. Better this way than the other. Don’t fall apart on me now, please.”
With an obvious effort of will, Lyle stood up, heedless of the blood on his hands and on the knees of his black combat trousers. He met Thomson’s eyes and received an approving nod.
“Stand down, Lieutenant,” Thomson said quietly. “Captain Becker will take personal responsibility for Mr Leek’s safety. Your men need you now.” He glanced at Ditzy and said, “There will need to be an enquiry, Owen, but I have no doubt that it will conclude Captain Ryan died whilst attempting to escape. Your decisive action no doubt saved the lives of others. I’ll take a statement from you shortly, but for now, I believe I have an executioner to appease.” He turned and looked enquiringly at Leek.
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll be happy to see the executioner in my office, should it prove necessary.” Leek glanced up at the security camera mounted high on the wall of the corridor and exchanged a meaningful look with Thomson that didn’t escape Lester’s notice.
Thomson saluted smartly and Lester watched as he directed a withering glare at Nick Cutter before muttering to no one in particular, “Get this mess cleared up and make sure that Temple wipes the security tapes. I do believe the havoc being wreaked by the contractors will have created an unfortunate and equally unsurprising series of gaps, here and elsewhere.”
With that, Thomson turned on his heel and marched off up the stairs, leaving everyone still standing in the corridor staring blankly at each other in surprise.
Thomson had gone further than Lester had expected in being willing to cover up what had happened in the corridor, even to the extent of implicating himself in what was obviously going to be a conspiracy of impressive proportions. But at the end of the day, for all his faults, the man was a soldier to the core and he clearly had no liking for the sentence that had been passed on Ryan and he now appeared to feel a degree of responsibility for the dead captain’s men as well.
Nick opened his mouth to speak and was waved into silence by Leek. “Not now, Professor. I think you’ve said enough. Perhaps you’d like to make yourself useful and pass the unfortunate news to your colleagues in the atrium.” He shot Nick a hard stare and added under his breath, “Discreetly, please. As Captain Thomson has just pointed out, Mr Temple has a job to do.”
For once, Nick did as he’d been bidden and, with a last look at Ryan’s body, he followed Thomson up the stairs.
Lester let out a long, slow breath and forced himself to stare down at the body of the man who’d been his lover. A man to whom he’d finally admitted his feelings. Ryan’s face was unmarked and expressionless. His right arm was folded on his chest, where Lyle had placed it, but his other arm was sprawled out on the blood-stained floor. Moving slowly but deliberately, Lester avoided the worst of the blood and made his way around to Ryan’s side.
He heard footsteps approaching down the corridor and glanced up to see Annie Morris coming towards him, tears on her cheeks, with the green-eyed soldier who’d become her shadow holding her hand tightly. His face was set in a murderous expression and Lester hoped Lyle really would be able to contain his own and his men’s reactions.
“James…” Annie held her free hand out to him, her expression beseeching.
Lester shook his head sharply. He was barely in control of his own emotions and had no resources left to handle anyone else’s pain. Avoiding Annie’s eyes, he went down on one knee next to Ryan and gently lifted his slightly curled hand from the white floor tiles, cradling it in his hands, stroking the long fingers that he’d come to know so well. Fingers that had explored every part of Lester’s body, fingers that had brought Lester more pleasure than he’d ever known from another human being.
The sleeve of Ryan’s tee-shirt slipped back by a few inches and Lester stared down at the smooth, unmarked skin on the inside of the dead man’s wrist. Skin that had previously borne the angry red scar that Ryan had deliberately inflicted on himself using the tines of a fork bent to resemble Lester’s initials.
A shiver ran through Lester’s body as his eyes widened in shock. He ran his thumb tentatively over already cool flesh. The hand rested limply in his. For the second time in only a few minutes, Lester fought a desperate battle for control as his thoughts and emotions whirled around with the dizzying speed of a fairground ride.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The words were quietly spoken but still jolted Lester abruptly from his reverie.
Lester ran his fingertips again over the pale wrist, then placed the hand carefully on the man’s chest before standing up and meeting Ditzy’s eyes. “You did what you had to, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “And for that, I’m in your debt. As Captain Thomson said, better this way than an executioner’s whip.”
And with that, steadfastly not making eye contact with anyone, Lester made his way up the stairs and through the atrium, with Captain Becker at his heels like a dark shadow.
Lester had no idea what had been done, or how, but he did know that he wanted to be safely inside the privacy of his own rooms before he allowed himself the luxury of finally giving in to his emotions.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-12-17 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-17 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-18 10:15 pm (UTC)Just make sure you don't abuse Lester too much! Poor snarky baby *pets*
no subject
Date: 2010-12-19 08:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-17 08:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-18 10:17 pm (UTC)