come_sailaway | [Closed] He tells me that a monster lives inside

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[Closed] He tells me that a monster lives inside

Who: Crichton (Harvey), Ari Tayrey & Valdis
What: Harvey is finally putting his plan to get those revenge daggers into motion, but it won't go as smoothly as he hopes
When: Foward dated to the last day of September
Where: Ari's Cabin
Warning: Involuntary Drugging, violence, stabbing, blood, death

He's been patient. He's waited all month for this--carefully feeding Ari different degrees of that sleeping drug over the weeks to convince her that she's reaching a breaking point, all the while smiling sweetly through Crichton's teeth, acting like the concerned friend Crichton would be. Well, Ari, your troubles are almost at an end. He will be taking those hidden beacons of power he senses at long last. Even if he has to rip the wall down with his bare hands.

He shows up at Ari's cabin door, later in the evening, holding Crichton's well-used journal in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. There's an extremely large dose of sleeping drug laced in it. Enough to kill an average person, but Ari has proven she can handle much more than the average person. Regardless, this will keep her out for hours. He will be long gone by the time she wakes.

"Ready for a potential all-nighter?" he asks with Crichton's boyish exuberance. "I had a crazy idea I want to run by you."

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Ari leaves her cabin less often than she used to. Keeping clear of those flowers has become more and more difficult as time goes on, and despite her efforts to slow down a little, she's still getting sicker. The sensible thing to do would be to tell Crichton no, that she is probably not up for what amounts to a double shift right now. She imagines what Dr Watson would have to say if he were here.

Yet that's not what she does. There's a chance that this crazy idea might be their ticket out of here, and a chance that if she sleeps she'll wake up in the horror of the Nothing. This is how she weighs things now. This is what drives her.

'I'm ready,' she tells him, steeling herself. No sign of weariness. 'Come on in.' Then she glances at the coffee. 'Only one cup?' she questions.

"Drank mine already," he answers casually. "I can always go run out for a refill for both of us if we need it, stretch my legs at the same time. Unless you don't want this one?" He acts like he's more than willing to drink it himself.

'Oh no, I want it.' She gives him a quick smile. 'I thought it was for you and that you'd forgotten about me,' Ari teases. 'Thanks.' She takes the cup from him, has a quick sip. At this point it still doesn't taste of much more than heat; she'll need to let it cool a little.

She sets it down near the edge of the table, taking her usual seat. 'Don't mind if we dive straight in, do you? I can't wait to hear this idea. It can't be crazier than some of the lines I've looked down lately!'

"I'd be a poor partner if I showed up with only coffee for myself." He doesn't let the relief show outwardly when she takes the first sip, but he feels it.

"Don't mind at all. Here, it's on the last page." He opens the journal and sets it in front of her. It's some seriously complicated math equations dealing not just with space but time calculations as well. It borders on theoretical time travel. "See what you can parse from that first and if it's not making sense, I'll walk you through it."

In the meantime, he pulls up his usual chair and sits down in it, pushing the cup a little closer to her under the guise of needing space to rest his arm.

That had been just what she was thinking - that it'd be unlike him to forget her coffee! He didn't, though. All is well. Ari turns her attention to Crichton's journal, focusing on the equations in front of her.

Only a few months ago, they'd have been utterly beyond her ability to even begin to decipher, but when Ari Tayrey puts her mind to something, she really makes an effort. All her studying has paid off. She spends a few minutes looking it over, the coffee seemingly forgotten.

'Here.' She points to one of the trickier parts. 'I can't tell if it's your error or mine, but this can't be resolved in ordinary spacetime unless you're actually travelling backwards in time.' Which is exactly the point; her imagination just hasn't caught up to it yet.

He drums his fingers impatiently on the table, casting glances at the forgotten coffee. Come on. Drink it already. He's eager to get into that wall.

When she points out that specific section of the equation, however, his attention shifts to her, and a triumphant smile spreads his lips. "That's not an error. That's the real power of wormholes."

'It is? But the potential of that...' Despite Ari's fatigue, her mind starts racing. 'We really could achieve our goals - get not only exactly where we want to be, but exactly when. It could be as if none of this ever happened.'

Most people wouldn't want that. Erasing the new friendships she's made isn't something that Ari would do lightly, and maybe even a few months ago she'd have said no. That was before she began to doubt that she'd be fit for the Tradelines when she made it home.

'Here, if we take this section and plug in the values from that test data at the back of my textbook...' She gets quickly to work, talking him through what she's doing, working with him to explore this new idea.

She doesn't completely neglect the coffee, but she's so focused on her work that the drug starts to take effect before she's had the full dose. As Harvey has now seen many times before, she slumps down on top of her books. Unlike before, that cup's still half full.

"Now you're getting it," he says proudly. She really is a credit to her species. He's looking forward to bringing her back with him to meet Scorpius.

He nods along as she shows him her calculations, his breath hitching impatiently every time she takes a sip. She's not drinking as quickly as he'd like but he can't do anything about it. Finally, what feels like an eternity later, she nods off on top of her work.

"Ah," he says, snapping to his feet at long last. "Now, let's see here..."

Harvey steps out of the room and around the corner to where he's hidden a toolbox full of supplies including a bowling ball he's taken from the lanes. The store didn't have any hammers, but this should do. He's hefting it on one shoulder as he comes back in, casually moving aside Tayrey's precious room divider and clearing the space below the wall where he intends to start beating it in.

For a while, Harvey is left to get to work. But Tayrey has been building up a tolerance, and the smaller dose today means that she doesn't sleep for long. She stirs, groggily. Her head feels heavy. Her first, troubled thought is not again, because this is now a very irritating habit.

Of course her instinct is to apologise to Crichton, because it really is unforgivable to fall asleep over her work, no matter what is going on.

Then she spies the divider, out-of-place, and Crichton beyond it. He has cleared one of her storage shelves, exposing the wall beyond it. The very wall beyond which she has concealed Valdis' daggers.

Tayrey doesn't call out to him. She stands, silently, and draws her gun. Her intention is to press it against his back - providing she can get close enough to do so.

He catches the movement in the corner of his eye and is half-turned with the bowling ball held in a striking position above his head, but he jerks to a stop when he realizes there's a gun pointed at him.

"Well. This is awkward, isn't it?" He doesn't lower his arms, but he's keeping very still. "No point in playing games now. Hello Lieutenant Tayrey, it's a pleasure to make your full acquaintance at last."

He smiles but it's all teeth and cold eyes. He's never looked less like John Crichton. "Call me Harvey."

Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it. 'You... how long have you...'

She'd known that Harvey was in there, of course she had, but she'd assumed that he was dormant. That Crichton's improving mental health meant that he had better control. Even Harvey's appearance in her dream had seemed like a fluke, easy to pass off as something not real. Tayrey's mind has been troubled enough that it all seemed plausible.

'No more games. You're going to leave my cabin. Immediately.' Very firm, very confident that this is exactly what's going to happen. 'Even you must know that nothing good can come of being trapped here. Crichton and I need to finish our research, and you need to keep out of it, if you won't help.' Any further study will have to be done in a public place. That's just how it is now.

"Not before I get what I came for," he tells her just as firmly. "I do know, and I have been sincere in my efforts to advance our knowledge of wormholes so that we can escape together." Surprise, it's been him all along, not Crichton.

"You wouldn't be this close to succeeding if I'd kept out of it. However, if you want to have any hope of escape you will have to stand aside and let me work. There is a threat to our continued progress that must be dealt with."

Surprise is exactly the word for it. She keeps the gun trained on him, but it's a real effort not to let herself be distracted by speculation. How long had Harvey been fooling her? Why hadn't she seen through it? It occurs to her that maybe she hadn't wanted to, on some level. Hadn't really tried.

Escape was more important than anything else, after all.

Yet she doesn't have nearly enough information to be willing to go along with this. 'I can't let you. I know what you're looking for, and I'm contractually bound not to let anyone take it,' she says, before taking a slow breath, gaze still fixed on him. 'What's the perceived threat?'

"It's a pity. I know how seriously you take your contracts."

He isn't inclined to answer her question, so there's really only one thing to do. He opens his mouth as if he means to answer, and brings the bowling ball down over her head instead.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment where Ari Tayrey went wrong. Maybe it was her reluctance to shoot someone who looked like John Crichton. She hadn't hesitated when she had seen Harvey in his true form, after all. Or maybe it was that remark about contract, because if Harvey knew her like Crichton knew her, he'd see instantly that convincing her to help him with his task would be impossible.

Either way, she doesn't suspect a thing when he suddenly puts an end to the conversation. One moment she's standing there, and the next there's a quick motion in front of her, a blindingly bright, overwhelming flash of pain in her head - and then nothing. Unconscious and bleeding, she slumps to the floor.

Harvey can now continue his efforts without further interruption.

He looks down at her bleeding out into the carpet and feels... well, not regret precisely, but something like it. She is a brilliant and talented mind. They were making progress.

"I hope this won't damage our working relationship too badly."

Without bothering to pick her up off the floor, he goes back to bashing the wall open. It doesn't take much longer before he has the daggers in hand. He tucks those away into the pocket of Crichton's coat, collects his various tools, and makes for the door. He doesn't have to bother cleaning up after himself now, does he?

As one last act of kindness (though he's sure Ari isn't going to see it that way) he leaves the door unlatched behind him. Perhaps someone will wonder by and find her before she dies. Or, maybe Crichton will run to her later once he learns what's happened. Either way, the door will open with a light push and there's nothing she can do about it.

With daggers in hand, Harvey calmly exits Ari's cabin, leaving her there on the floor (as requested) unconscious but alive. The first part of this plan did not go as elegantly as he would have liked, but he accomplished his goal just the same.

Now, he stalks his way down the hall to Valdis's door. Menace radiates from him and there's really no helping it. He'll just have to make this quick.

"Valis!" he puts extra fear into his--or should he say Crichton's?--voice as he pounds on her door. "Valdis, I need your help. Please, are you in there?"

The aura approaching doesn't feel like Crichton, but the frantic pounding on her door, the sound of fear in her friend's voice overrides the caution she might normally approach this aura with. It's confusing the dissonance between caution and empathy. Valdis' love for Crichton prompts her to open the door.

"Crichton, what's wrong?"

She can smell Ari on him and any concern about the menace vanishes.

"Is Teyrey ok?"

"She will live," Harvey hisses as he plunges the dagger into her chest with zero hesitation. "You should have been more worried about yourself."

She manages to move just enough that the dagger misses anything vital, but it doesn't matter because the burning tells her everything she needs to know. Valdis tears away from him, trying to summon the energy to retaliate, but the energy flows to the wound trying to seal it. Her skin turns paler than normal, black veins spreading across her body as the poisonous hatred takes hold. She sinks to the floor as old wounds start opening up on her skin, black ichor flowing from each one.

His lips, Crichton's lips, curl into a sickly satisfied grin. He's glad she evaded his killing blow. This is so much better, to watch her suffer, to watch the life drain from her slowly.

"You should have left me alone, Valdis. I warned you that you would regret crossing me. There is only one thing now that will make this moment sweeter. Can you guess what it is?"

He doesn't wait for a reply. He reaches inward and drags Crichton's consciousness to the surface, ruthlessly thrusting him back into awareness with the bloody knife still in his hand. Crichton blinks rapidly, then looks down and blanches in horror.

"Valdis! No! No, no, no, no!"

The dagger clatters to the ground. Crichton falls to his knees in front of Valdis, gathering her into his arms with hot tears already staining his cheeks. "Valdis, n-no. I'm sorry. I'm so... what can I do? I'll... call Watson? I'll... I'll get help!"

Black blood bubbles up out of her lungs as she coughs, pain seizing every muscle in her body as her reserves continue to deplete, hopelessly attempting to heal the injuries that continue to open. Damn Harvey. Her fury has nothing to do with her own life and everything to do with the fact he's letting Crichton watch her die. She can barely feel him holding her, barely even understand the words coming out of his mouth.

"Crichton."

Black tears start oozing down her cheeks, her lungs so full of the poison she can't breathe. Everything starts going dark and she pulls at the Void, then her own soul, trying to find just a little more time. She finds enough.

"Check...Ari."

Her soul winks out of existence and in the corner, Revelations goes dark.

Edited 2023-09-28 03:42 (UTC)

"No... please..."

He bends over Valdis, cradling her close to his chest as she grows colder in his arms. The black tears oozing from her cheeks smear into the black of his shirt.

"P-please..."

She goes limp with Ari's name still on her lips. Now he's alone. Except... he isn't. He isn't. Harvey is laughing cruelly in his ears.

Crichton gently lowers Valdis's body back to the floor with trembling hands, wiping some of the ichor off on his leather pants numbly. How? How did this happen? How did Harvey... Ari, wait...

"Harvey! What did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

The mental clone materializes in front of him, looking down at Valdis's body and tut-tutting softly. "She had those daggers hidden quite well. Lieutenant Tayrey was a good choice of keeper for them. Such a shame, I don't think she's going to want to work with me anymore after this..."

"No." Crichton backs away, shaking his head. "You didn't... FRELL! I need to... frell..." He can't run to Ari. He'd just be putting her right back in danger. Anyone who comes near him right now is in danger.

"Watson... I'll... okay..." It takes him three tries to get his phone out of his pocket with his hands still shaking and slick. He leaves black smudges on the keys as he types out the message.

After the first one is sent, he gathers himself to type out one more... to Erin.

After sending that message, Crichton slumps to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. Pulling his legs up to his chest, he sits and waits, burying his face into his knees so he doesn't have to look at Valdis's body still lying lifeless on the floor at his feet. Harvey vanishes again, back into the recesses of his mind, but Crichton knows he's still watching. Waiting. He'll always be there... always.

When she learns from Erin what's happened, she also finds that in all the commotion, no one has yet told Max.

There's really no other choice, from her perspective.

Max, do you have a moment to talk? It's important.

Yes. I'm in the kitchen. Do you want to meet me?

Yes, please. I'll be there shortly.

And she is, within barely minutes, about as fast as one can get from the cabins to the kitchen without flat-out running.

"Max?" Voice slightly raised, as she peers in through the kitchen door.

The speed of her arrival already has him worried. Was she just that close when she texted?

"Over by the sink," he calls to her. "I'm just doing a few last dishes. You can come in."

On those words, Cassandra slips into the room and approaches. She isn't smiling.

"Max, I'm afraid there's bad news. Do you want to sit down?"

His worry blooms into fear. The dish in his hand drops back into the water half-scrubbed. His weight lands heavily on the stool beside him.

"What happened?"

She reaches out to take his hand.

"Valdis," she says, only pausing long enough to be sure Max has registered the name, "has been killed. I'm so sorry."

"What?!" Max stands up so fast he knocks the stool over behind him. His hand is clamped down on hers without him realizing it. He's instantly trembling. "How? Where?!"

His grip is painfully hard; she doesn't try to dislodge it, only squeezes back as best she can.

"She was stabbed, with a weapon she's vulnerable to. In her cabin. Max, there's every reason to expect that she'll be revived as usual."

He takes a shaky breath and makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip on her. "D-do you know who did it? Or... why?"

"On the why, I'm not certain. The who is ... complicated." She takes a breath. "That isn't to say I won't tell you, but I will need you to listen to the whole of it. Will you sit down again? And drink something?"

"I... yeah. Do... you want some tea?" He's already moving to the kettle to fill it and start it boiling. While that simmers, he feeds loose-leaf into his tea strainer. He needs something to do with his hands to keep them from shaking. In a moment, he'll come back with two steaming mugs of earl grey and a jar of honey.

Once he's settled back down on the stool, he sucks in a deep breath and says, "Okay. I'm ready to listen."

She watches him make the tea and waits, understanding his need to do something. When he brings it over, she takes her own mug with a murmur of thanks, and stirs honey into it and takes a sip before beginning.

"I don't know how well you know John Crichton. He's been struggling for some time with a ... a second individual, in his head. As he explained it to me, it's a copy of the personality of his worst enemy, planted there to try to get at certain information he holds."

"I um... I know he and Arthur dated and broke up, but I haven't really talked to him much." Because that would be kind of awkward now that he and Arthur hook up sometimes.

"Wow. Him too? Jeez... that's terrible. Shit, is this like another Lord Vile situation?"

"It's a valid comparison, if I understand it correctly. Crichton's aware of what happened; he's locking himself in the brig until some solution can be found."

She wraps her hands around the mug, trying to let the heat soothe her.

Max is quiet, taking that all in. Anger sparks and sputters like a lighter struggling to ignite in the rain, but it eventually fizzles into sadness. He can't be mad at someone who was used like that. It must be horrible.

"Is there a solution? Is he going to be stuck down there forever?"

Her hands tighten on the mug.

"I don't know." That wasn't meant to be a whisper; she tries again, a little louder. "I really don't know. There have been ... a few attempts to remove the other personality from him. I think it will have to be tried again. Things can't go on like this."

Max sigh. Loudly. "I wish I could just be mad. But it sounds like he's really dealing with a lot." Should he try to go talk or... no, that would be like salt in a wound, wouldn't it?

"I'm sorry. I can tell you care a lot about him. I hope something works."

Max reaches for her, cupping his hand around hers on her mug. "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad I could hear it from someone I trust."

"If there's ... anything I can do to help, over the next three days, will you please let me know?"

She turns her hand under his, just enough to rest her thumb along his -- as close as she can get, in this position, to taking his hand.

"I will. Lady... Cassandra, thank you."

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[Closed] He tells me that a monster lives inside

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[Stabbin' Time]

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Aftermath: for Max Maximum

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wrap?

ok!

Thanks!