DA drabbles - PG, gen
Mar. 16th, 2009 07:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfTitle: cat in a cage
Fandom: “Dark Angel”
Disclaimer: not my characters.
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 325
Point of view: third
Alec hates being caged. He hated it as 494, back at Manticore, when he slept in a concrete box like all the X5s. He was luckier than Max, though—he wasn’t alone. Listening to the others breathe, he could forget the walls.
Cats are solitary creatures, but some are more social than others. Alec doesn’t know what’s in his cocktail, which of the great predators he’s got swimming in his blood, but he hates small spaces. He hid it at Manticore, a weakness he couldn’t let the handlers know about. After the Berrisford debacle, after 493’s madness—no. Any more problems and he’d be used for spare parts.
He’s out now, though. He’s free and his own man. He can go where he wants, when he wants; he can do what he wants.
And then White shoves him in a cage. Alec wakes already feeling trapped and wishes he had claws to sink into his captor’s belly. He snarls low in his throat, but he is an actor. He’ll play White long enough to get away and then he’ll make a tactical retreat.
And then he’s trapped by an explosive in his neck. He wants to scream and rip White apart, but even a tiger(is he part tiger?) can’t take on a dozen guns and come out alive.
Alec survives, though. He always survives. Max hates him, but he looks like her dead brother, so he doesn’t expect that to change.
Leave, the cat whispers. New territory.
And he should, he knows. What appeal does Seattle have? Max and White, and memories of Rachel. No reason to stay.
But he doesn’t leave. Only Normal seems to actually like him, but he refuses to flee. He can go where he wants, when he wants, and he won’t be chased away.
He’s not caged anymore. The cat grumbles, Stupid cub, but Alec is determined to see this through. He’s free. It’s his choice now. And he chooses to stay.
Title: And wild for to hold, though I seem tame
Fandom: “Dark Angel”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Wyatt the Elder.
Warnings: AU for season two
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 280
Point of view: third
494 snarls, pacing around in his cage. It had been so stupid, broadcasting that location. What did the bitch think would happen? A fairy tale, happily ever after for the little mutant freaks, the government soldiers? They were tools, nothing more, and once they became a burden—poof. Cauterized site and nothing else.
“Well, 494?” the government spook asks. Dark hair, dark eyes, cold voice and a gun in hand. “Will you follow orders or should I put you down where you stand?”
494 knows he could dodge the first bullet, and probably the second, but not all. He hates this bastard, but he hates 452 more. “I’ll do it,” he says.
The spook raises an eyebrow.
494 growls low in his throat. “I’ll do it, sir,” he amends.
The spook smirks. “Not that I don’t trust you,” he says, nodding to one of his goons. The floor of the cages drops out from under 494 and he falls two stories to the ground, bracing himself for the impact. He stays crouched down and glances up at the spook. “We’ll have to take precautions, of course. Make sure you don’t run off like a scared little kitty.” He leans over the rail, gun loose in his grip. “You understand.”
“Yes,” 494 grits out, staying still until ordered to move. “Sir.”
He’ll play the spook’s game, for now. He’ll find 452 and kill her. Then he’ll deal with this bastard, whatever precautions he takes. 494’s eyes track the ordinaries moving around, guns tight in their fingers. Weakness after weakness—he glances back to the spook, sauntering down the stairs.
Too many guns to make a move now, but 494 can wait.
Title: I stood among them, but not of them
Fandom: “Dark Angel”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Byron.
Warnings: AU for “Hello, Goodbye”
Pairings: none
Rating: PGish
Wordcount: 530
Point of view: third
Alec plays nice in jail until Max leaves him there to rot. He watches her stalk out, every inch the injured feline, so sure in herself. So sure she’s right about him.
She has so rarely been right about him, but after all these months of never being good enough, of being blamed for every thing, he’s done.
He didn’t kill Timothy Ryan. He’s never heard of Timothy Ryan. He wishes he did have a clue who the dude was, though, just so he had the satisfaction of tearing out the bastard’s throat for getting him in this mess.
You think I’m a cold-blooded killer, he muses, letting the officer shove him down the hall. You think I could just take a life, just reach out and snap a neck. He studies the officer for a moment, weighing the consequences.
If he does this, he can never come back. Max will probably try to hunt him down. He turns his head slightly, watching the pudgy man. Easy prey. So easy.
The cat in him purrs as he strikes. He’s tired of playing nice, of sheathing his claws and hiding his fangs. He’s tired of letting Max kick him around like she’s better.
She’s not. She’s really not, and the next ordinary dies just as quick. Alec’s a predator, down to the deepest part of him. He’s a predator and he hasn’t truly hunted since Max burned Manticore to the ground like she was doing a favor for all the poor bastards still trapped inside.
He snarls, tearing his way through a room full of screaming, crying ordinaries. Did the stupid bitch even think before pushing that button? She should have known how Renfro would react.
Alec stands in the middle of his dead or dying prey, savoring the scent of blood. Keep moving, the cat in him counsels. Find new territory.
He stretches, shaking out his spine, and listens. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes. He grins and lightly walks out of the station.
Back in Manticore, no one ever told him what 493(Ben, brother, twin) did to earn him that six-month stay in Psy-Ops. He only ever learned that 493 had a defect. They wanted to be sure it wasn’t genetic.
Alec’s pretty sure he just beat Ben’s body-count. And now he should leave town. Let Max and White have each other. Get out and go somewhere warm, where he can just sit and soak in the sun. Take naps and not worry about ordinaries or Manticore breaking in, wanting him dead for simply existing.
South, the cat says. Alec checks both ways before crossing the street. Is there anything in this town he wants? Well, besides to kick the ever-living shit out of Max, and possibly tear her intestines out of her still-warm corpse for leaving him in jail, just writing him off without even listening, after all the favors he’s done her.
Nope, he thinks. Not one damn thing in this crap-hole for me.
The cat insists, South. East. Warmth and light.
So Alec heads southeast. Let Max and White have each other. He’s done. She thinks he’s a cold-blooded killer, and that’s the one thing she’s ever gotten right.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-16 12:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-16 09:45 pm (UTC)Hmmm....
Date: 2009-03-18 12:55 am (UTC)cat in a cage
I stood among them
Re: Hmmm....
Date: 2009-03-18 03:27 am (UTC)I really fuckin' hate Max. I finished rewatching all the Alec scenes and I really really really despise her.
I mean. She never learns. The actress is not good, the writing is mediocre, and they completely underutilized the best thing they had going for them. *snarls*
I really wish there were some way for Ben and Alec to interact.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-16 10:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-17 01:19 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-19 05:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-19 08:46 pm (UTC)