| Well, I finally finished it:
my first, and most likely ONLY Prey fanfiction. Why, you ask? Mainly because
I want to devote all of my limited writing time to my first novel, and
also because the show is now gone, and I'm the kind of fanfic writer who
needs an on-going series to inspire me. I need to see an episode and think,
"Gee, the writers really screwed that up! I could do it better! In fact,
what if something else happened entirely?" Those kinds of thoughts are
usually my jumping off points, and from there I find a story. With Prey,
writing fanfic would only make me miss it more, and we hardly even got
to know the show. I think that now that this one is done, I'll just let
things be. One note though: this is NOT how I would have wanted to see
the show end for real, but I thought it an interesting route to take for
fanfic. This is sad, and there is a character death, but please read on
anyway! I think you'll like it.
So, on to the usual stuff... DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of these characters, guys, except one. They're Warner Bros. Property. Enough said. I really am sick of writing disclaimers. I think I've written a zillion for my X-Files fanfic, and I don't even usually do them anymore. CREDIT: I've used snippets from a bunch of songs. None of them are mine. THANKS: I think I'd like to send out lots of thanks and praise to the cast and writers of "Prey" for giving us such an intelligent and powerful show. RATING: PG TIMELINE: Takes place immediately after episode 13 ends. MAIL: I'd love to hear your thoughts on this story. Please write to me at: starbuck@csrlink.net Outside Sloan's Apartment
"Dammit! Answer! Come on!" Her cell phone chimed dully in her ears with the crushing realization that no one was going to answer. Sloan was near hysterics, with giant, salty tears running down cheeks, her whole body shaking. She had just watched the van disappear down the street - the van that had Tom in it. And the men who had kidnapped him. She could still feel Tom's gaze on her in those last moments. His eyes had been like two blue lasers boring straight into her soul, trying to memorize everything about her. Sloan would never forget the way he looked at her during those few moments - as if he would never see her again in a thousand years. Sloan swallowed a sob, and shook her head, evading the memory for the moment. Her green eyes were wide as saucers as she jabbed mercilessly at her cell phone. "Where are you, Ray?" she shouted out loud, not caring who heard her. She was about to throw the phone to the ground when a flash of silver caught her eye. She scanned the streets around her, straining to catch every shred, every detail she could. She didn't know what might be useful later. Then she saw it. Further down the street sat a low black sedan, exhaust billowing silently onto the wet pavement. The car was spotless, with wrap-around headlights and smoked glass. A government car. And in a breath, Sloan knew who must be in that car. With surprising speed, Sloan took off for the car, dropping her bag along the way. Sloan expected the car to pull away at any moment, but it didn't move. As she neared it, a window slipped down, revealing a woman. Atwood's boss-lady. Sloan skidded to a stop in front of her, a little out of breath. But her eyes were hot and wild like a jungle fever. "You did this. You took him," she said evenly, but her words were dripping with hatred. The Attractive Woman smiled thinly, but smugly, revealing her perfect white teeth. "I didn't take anything. I simply retrieved what had been promised to me." Sloan wanted to punch the woman more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life. She could even hear the sickening crunch of teeth breaking; see the blood gushing from her gums. "Tom was *never* promised to you." The woman looked Sloan up and down; snickered at her disheveled appearance, at her naivete. "And how would *you* know who promised what to whom?" Sloan was beginning to connect the pieces of the puzzle - at least she thought she was. Her eyes widened. "Are you saying Walter did this? Allowed this?" The Attractive Woman shrugged. "Does it really matter?" "It does to me," said Sloan, desperately wanting someone or something to blame for this; someone to hold accountable. Even if it *was* Walter. "You'll have to ask Walter yourself, Dr. Parker," said the woman casually, as if they were discussing a recipe. "I can't reach him." The woman feigned worry. "Oh, now that's distressing. I certainly hope that nothing bad has happened to him." She let that sink in for Sloan before continuing, but Sloan's only reaction was to make her gaze even harder. "We've been watching Tom since he first became part of your team. We were waiting for the appropriate…time to take him. We decided it would be best to wait until he had contributed all he could." Sloan looked down at the woman in contempt. "You mean until you'd used him all you could." "Semantics, Dr. Parker." "You bitch…" hissed Sloan, having decided that perhaps strangling the woman would be more satisfying. The woman was unmoved. "I'm simply doing my job." "Your job is to kidnap innocent people?" asked Sloan, wondering why she had ever agreed to work with this woman and her superiors. "You'd be surprised what my job entails." Sloan shook her head, tears once again in her eyes as she wondered what they would do to Tom. "No, I don't think I would." The woman suddenly looked down at her watch, and tapped it with a long, blood red, perfectly manicured nail. She smiled slyly. "I'm afraid I've got to be going now, Dr. Parker. I'm expecting a *long-term* guest." Bile rose in Sloan's throat at the thought of what that might mean for Tom, but before she could respond, the window went up, and the car pulled away silently, like a specter in the night. Tears welled up in Sloan's throat, and she punched the car's trunk viciously as it past her, swearing to the night sky that she would have revenge. After the car had turned the corner, Sloan ran into her building, praying to God that nothing had happened to Ed. She took the steps two at a time, not even feeling out of breath. She hurried to the door, and found it wide open - as she expected - and Ed on the floor. "God! Ed!" she yelped, going to him. Kneeling next to him, she checked his pulse and breathing. His skin was sweaty and pale, and he was totally unconscious - a rag doll in Sloan's arms. But he didn't appear to have any wounds or other injuries, so Sloan was at least a little relieved, though she didn't know what drug was used to incapacitate him. It must have been strong if it was able to make Tom cooperative. Thoughts of Tom were too painful and distracting at the moment, so Sloan pushed them away to focus on her friend. "Don't worry. I'm going to get you to the hospital," she said, as she dragged herself to her feet to reach the phone. As she dialed the number, she looked down at Ed, sleeping in an almost peaceful way. "I can at least help *you*," she said, tears slipping down her cheeks, her eyes dim.
Next Morning
Sloan woke to the sound of the IV dripping and the heart monitor bleeping. She had spent most of the previous night in a series of uncomfortable plastic chairs that she was sure the hospital had rescued from a 70s museum. At least they had given her something with a little padding when Ed had finally been admitted to a private room. She blinked a few times to wake up, and then stretched her neck, hoping to coax the kinks and creaks out. As she did, her gaze wandered to her sleeping friend, thankfully resting peacefully on the bed a few feet from her. As it turned out, Ed had been given a pretty powerful cocktail of sleeping drugs, relaxants, and tranquilizers in order to put him out of commission for so long. So far, he had been out for almost 12 hours, and Sloan was beginning to wonder if the injection was made for a *Homo Dominant*, and perhaps too strong for a human. She also wondered how long it had put Tom down. If it had a 12-hour cycle on humans, most likely, it would only last from 4 to 6 hours on a Dominant. That thought brought Tom's image to her mind and an anguished cry from her heart. God, she hoped that he wasn't in any pain - wasn't being tortured. If only she had returned from the lab a few minutes earlier, maybe she could have done something to save him - to stop HER. Maybe she could have convinced them not to take Tom. Maybe she could have delayed them long enough to let Tom escape. Maybe, maybe, maybe… Sloan shook her head, and swiped at the tears that had escaped during her thoughts. There was a huge gaping blackness inside her now - an emptiness without him there to fill it. It was the feeling of a dream dying, of a love being trampled on before it ever had the chance to takes its first steps. Their chances were gone. Nothing would ever come of their feelings now. No love. No life. No relationship. Nothing. Barely enough memories to fill a scrapbook. Barely enough to fill a roll of film. No, all Sloan was left with were the terrible fears of what Tom might be going through - what they might be doing to him. How and when his life would end. They had even stolen her chance to say goodbye. Sloan drew her knees up to her chest, and rested her forehead on them, her hair hiding her face. She sniffled once, twice, and took a deep breath, trying to get herself together - at least for Ed's sake. But her mind kept returning to Tom, and what was happening to him. "Please, God," she begged, "if he *has* to die, let it be quick and painless." "I hope I'm not in that much trouble." Sloan's head snapped up at the sound of the voice, and she found herself staring at Ed. His brown eyes were a little red-rimmed, his hair was tousled, and he looked weary and worn-out, but really no worse for the wear. She was on her feet in an instant, and sitting next to him on a small stool. She took his hand in hers, and mustered the best smile she could for him. "Ed. You're awake." Ed nodded. "It appears so." Sloan looked him over from head to toe. "Are you in any pain? Is there any discomfort? Headache? Nausea? Dizziness?" Ed shook his head. "Nope. I'm just a little tired. How long was I out?" "Almost twelve hours," Sloan answered. Ed's eyebrows went up. "Whoa. Must have been pretty powerful stuff. Do they know what exactly?" Sloan shook her head and sighed. "Not totally. But they do know it was a cocktail of some very powerful sleeping aids, relaxants, and tranquilizers. It was probably especially made for Dominants, which is why it kept you asleep so long." "I see. Well, then, Tom must be awake by now, right?" At his question, tears immediately sprang to Sloan's eyes, and she had to look away. Her hand slipped out of his as she struggled for control. "Sloan, what is it?" asked Ed, wondering why his question had had such an affect. "Sloan, did something happen to Tom? Did they do something to him?" Sloan finally looked back at Ed, and when she did, Ed felt as though her eyes must have aged years in a short time. There was a hollowness in them - a pain - that made them look like an old, ravaged soul lived behind them. "Ed, how much of last night do you remember?" He shrugged. "Not much, really. I remember you left to get the booster shot for Tom. Tom and I were talking, and then these - I guess they were commandos - broke the door down and shot both of us with tranquilizer guns…" Sloan nodded, hoping that he would remember something useful; something that might lead her to Tom. "And then?" Ed took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply. "And then…then…blackness…nothing. That's it. I must have gone down right away. After that, I just remember waking up here a few minutes ago." Sloan thought about how to break the news to her friend, and in the end, she decided that bluntness would have to do. She simply didn't have the energy for a drawn-out explanation. "Ed, they took Tom. He's gone." Sloan didn't know how she managed to get that out without breaking into tears. Ed sat up straight. "What?! Who took him?" Sloan looked away, wanting to hide her anger from Ed. "The government, I think. Walter's boss, specifically." "The woman?" "Yes, after the van dis…" Sloan trailed off, not able to finish the thought - not that way, at least. She tried another avenue. "Afterwards, I saw a government car nearby, and I confronted her. She admitted it. She said that Tom had been 'promised' to her from the beginning. She talked about him like he was her property, Ed. Like he wasn't a real person." Ed avoided that last statement, and nodded, the wheels in his head turning. "Okay, okay…so we just get Atwood to call her, and get Tom back. I'm sure he can do-" "I don't know where he is," said Sloan, interrupting. Ed cocked his head to the left. "What? What do you mean?" Sloan shrugged. "I've been trying to reach Ray and Walter since right after Tom was taken, and I haven't been able to. When I got to the lab last night, it was locked, and new security guards were there. They told me that Atwood was no longer in charge, and they practically threw me out." Ed couldn't believe it. "You're kidding?" Sloan shook her head. "No. And I don't know what happened to Ray and Atwood, and I don't know where they are." Ed's forehead crinkled in an odd mixture of worry and thought. "You don't think that SHE…" Sloan shook her head. "No. I think it was something else. I mean, I'm sure SHE had a part in it, but I think that something must have happened during their meeting with the confederate Dominant. I just hope that Ray's okay." Ed looked at her oddly, wondering at her words. "You're not worried about Atwood?" Sloan swallowed and looked away, a cold feeling in her heart. "No, not really." "Want to tell me why?" asked Ed, feeling his strength returning with each passing second. Sloan waited a few beats, and then looked back at him, and when she did, Ed was shocked at the hardness in her gaze. "It was implied that Walter had something to do with Tom's abduction." Ed's mouth fell open. "And you believe HER? You trust her over Atwood?" Sloan crossed her arms over her chest and set her mouth in a tight line. "Why should I trust Walter?" Ed didn't have a reason, or an answer. Sloan sighed. "Look, I don't trust either of them, okay? But she made it fairly clear to me that Walter was involved. And until I know otherwise, I don't consider him to be on our team." Ed closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't think we have a team anymore, Sloan." "How can you say that?" asked Sloan, looking hurt. Ed opened his eyes, and began to count off their handicaps. "Sloan, Atwood's boss has apparently turned against us, Ray and Atwood are MIA, we have no lab, no access, no equipment, and…" he trailed off, not knowing the best way to put his final point. But Sloan wouldn't allow him to be kind. "And *what*?" she asked, a slight acidity to her tone. Ed took a deep breath. "*And* Tom - our only link to the Dominants - is gone. Without him, we have no chance, Sloan. He was our best weapon in this fight." "Weapon?!" snapped Sloan, her eyes ablaze. "How dare you talk about Tom like that? The way SHE did?" Ed was speechless. He had never seen Sloan so angry before, and he didn't know how to take back his words. "Tom was not a weapon or a tool, Ed. He was not there for us to exploit. He was-" Sloan cut off, refusing to talk about Tom in the past tense. "He *is* a person, and he deserves the same respect and rights we do. Tom never betrayed us, and he always considered all of us allies in the same fight." Sloan was going to stop, but then decided that Ed had to know the depth of her feelings. Even if he had guessed at them before this, she had to say it to him. Make it clear. "He means something to me, Ed. He has a place in my life." Ed reached out and took her hand, his eyes gentle. "I know that, Sloan. I know you had-" "I love him, Ed." He let go of her hand, not prepared for such a declaration. He had wondered if Sloan's feelings had developed to such a point, but he never thought he would hear her say it. He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't know how to re-center their relationship - recent events had sent it too far off-kilter. In the end, he settled for courtesy. "I'm sorry, Sloan. I really am." Sloan nodded, feeling the distance between them. It bothered her greatly. She and Ed had always been close - always supported each other - but since Tom had appeared in their lives, she had felt Ed pulling away. And she didn't know how to bring them back together. Wishing to be free of the new cold awkwardness between them, Sloan stood and began to gather her things. "Now that I know you're okay, I'm going to go home and get cleaned up. I'll be back later." She tried to keep herself busy by fiddling with her bag and coat, but Ed saw through her. "Sloan, be careful. Watch your back." The thought came, unbidden, to her mind, and she
felt new tears pricking at her eyes. She said nothing, though. Simply nodded
and smiled weakly at Ed before hurrying out of the room.
Once outside, she made it a few steps down the
hall before sagging against the wall, tears streaming down her face.
That Night
Sloan was nervous.
Rubbing her arms to ward off the slight chill
she felt, she decided she was worse than nervous. She was jittery. And
if she had learned one thing from Tom it was that jittery people made mistakes.
They got caught. They got killed.
Tom had always, *always* been very cautious and
prepared. He never let his nervousness (if he even felt such a thing) get
in the way. He always planned ten steps ahead - and he always had back-up
plans and escape routes worked out.
She should do the same.
Looking around, she realized she was standing
right in the middle of a clearing, with bushes and dark spots all around.
Too many places for an assailant to hide. Too many places from which danger
and death could come.
Sloan took a deep breath, and stepped into the
shadows, knowing that it was what Tom would have done from the beginning.
It was odd, but thinking of him in that way -
as a teacher or protector-from-afar - wasn't as painful as other thoughts.
It was almost as if he were still working with her - just from a distance.
And thinking of him like that, she could almost push the horrible anguish
away and smile.
Almost.
From in the shadows, Sloan could see everyone
that walked by, but no one could see her. Good. That was what she wanted.
She had finally reached Ray and Walter a few hours
earlier, and they had agreed to meet in the park to try and figure out
some kind of plan. Sloan didn't fully trust Walter, in fact as the moments
passed, she grew more certain that Walter had betrayed her. But she knew
that Ray wouldn't lie to her and would try to help her.
Moments passed silently, and Sloan began to wonder
if Walter and Ray were coming at all. She needed them. As much as she distrusted
Walter, she would need his contacts and long fingers to have any kind of
chance of finding Tom.
Sloan couldn't even begin to contemplate a life
without Tom. He had become such an intrinsic part of her life in such a
short amount of time - but it didn't feel rushed to her. It felt right.
Sloan heard something cracking a few feet to her
left, and she turned her head to watch and listen. A few seconds later,
Ray stepped into the clearing, looking around. He looked skittish and seemed
to be sweating even though it was not very warm.
Checking his watch, he took a deep breath, and
Sloan decided it was time to let him know she was there. She stepped out
from the shadows.
"Hi, Ray," she said, a warm tone to her voice,
a small, sad smile to her lips. "You're sweating. Are you feeling okay?
It's not that warm out."
He turned quickly to face her and stretched his
hand out. "I feel all right, Sloan. And it's actually pretty warm tonight."
Sloan looked at him in confusion. It wasn't warm.
It was…
And suddenly it was gone. The chill she had been
feeling was gone and she felt the true temperature, which was quite warm.
She found it odd, but set it aside for the moment.
"How you doin', Sloan?" asked Ray, as she took
his hand gently.
She shook her head quickly, and made a pained
face. "That doesn't matter right now. What matters is finding…" she trailed
off, suddenly noticing that Walter wasn't with Ray. "Where's Walter?" she
asked, a nasty edge to her voice.
Ray sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "He
thought it best to stay back and try to make a solid deal with the confederate
we've been meeting with. Hopefully, he'll find us someplace to stay for
a while."
Sloan didn't really believe that that was what
Atwood was doing, but she kept her suspicions to herself. "I don't understand
Ray. Why can't you and Walter go home?"
Ray shook his head. "Atwood believes that it would
be too dangerous. He sort of burned his bridges with his boss, and if we
went back to the lab, she'd be waiting."
Sloan nodded her head. "Probably. But I don't
know if Walter is really in trouble with that woman."
Ray cocked his head in confusion. "What do you
mean?"
"When I went back there last night, it was all
locked up, and government men were there. They said that the lab was being
taken over, and that I no longer worked there. Then, after they took…Tom…I
saw his boss. She inferred that Walter was included in the decision to
abduct Tom. She said that Tom was 'promised' to her, and she wanted me
to think that Walter did the promising."
Ray shook his head, uncertain. "I don't know,
Sloan. Walter didn't seem to know about Tom before you called us and told
us. I don't think he was in on it. I think his boss is trying to divide
us, and she knows the easiest way to make you break away is by making you
think that one of us helped in taking Tom."
Sloan's eyes narrowed in thought. "I don't know,
Ray. But I do remember how quickly Walter was ready to hand Tom over to
the government before."
"Well, she's done her job," said Ray, a defeated
look on his face.
"What?"
"She's made you doubt a member of your team. Who's
next, Sloan? Me? Ed?"
Sloan's eyes widened in surprise. "No, no! I would
never doubt you, Ray. Or Ed."
"But you *will* doubt Walter?"
Sloan shrugged. "He's been lying to us from the
beginning. You know that. He's *never* divulged all he knows about who
he works for or what their plan is. He obviously doesn't trust us all the
way. Why should we?"
"He had no idea that his boss would betray him.
He walked into the same ambush I did. He risked his life just as I risked
mine. You're wrong, Sloan."
Sloan could see that they were getting nowhere
fast, and decided that it was time to get to what she had really come to
talk about. "Look, Ray, that doesn't really matter now. I just want to
find Tom. I need you to ask Walter to see if he has any friends left in
the government who might concede to helping us."
Ray nodded. "Already being done. Atwood did it
right after you called."
Sloan nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling.
"Good. That's one avenue covered, at least."
"You trust him to ask around about Tom?" asked
Ray, almost not believing that he was defending Atwood. But he had seen
how surprised Atwood had been during the shootout. Ray knew he wasn't lying.
Shaking her head, Sloan rubbed her eyes wearily.
"No. I know he's useful. He's used me in the past, and he's definitely
used Tom. Now it's my turn."
Ray was shocked at the near-viciousness in Sloan's
words. She had changed so much in one night. He knew it was because of
Tom, and what had happened, and he felt sorry for her. He knew her need
for revenge was clouding her judgment. Ray just hoped she would see the
error of her ways in time. He had the feeling that she wouldn't want Atwood
for an enemy.
Of course, Ray also knew that Atwood wouldn't
want to make an enemy of Sloan.
Sloan knew it was getting late, and they had already
been together too long. She touched Ray's arm gently. "It's time we're
going," she said, casting glances in every direction, alert for danger.
Ray chuckled ruefully at her words and behavior.
"Tom taught you well, Sloan."
The moment the words left his lips and leapt into
the air, tears sprang to Sloan's eyes. She didn't acknowledge Ray's statement,
instead pushed forward; pushed through the grief.
"Call me when you and Walter get settled, okay?
I'll either be at home or with Ed - until I find a lead, that is."
A sharp stab of worry hit Ray squarely in the
gut. "Sloan, don't pull a Lone Ranger on this one. If you find something
on Tom, you call me. You'll need back-up."
She nodded, but Ray got the distinct impression
that she had no intention of calling him. He sighed, knowing he could only
ask her to call. He had learned early that no one could *make* Sloan do
anything.
He just hoped her search for Tom didn't end with
her death.
That Night
Tom had never been so cold in his entire life.
Never - even during all his training and conditioning - had he been this
cold; this frozen. His fingers felt like icicles hanging from the eaves
of an igloo, and his feet were like blocks of ice. He felt as though he
was adrift on a great iceberg in the middle of the Arctic Ocean heading
to an inert and icy hell.
He had on only some very thin pants - something
like pajamas - but nothing else. His upper body was bare, as were his feet.
The room in which he was being held was dark except for the blinding light
that shone down on him. But even the harsh light gave no heat, which made
it a doubly distressing.
He was still in the cage, but at least some of
his anxiety had died down.
After some minutes in the cage, his training had
taken over - at least in some way - and he had been able to calm himself
down. To focus himself and push the horror, worry, and dread down into
a small, manageable bundle. In this way, he allowed his higher self - the
part that was reason and intellect - to take control over his more basic,
primal instincts.
It also allowed his empathic abilities to resurface.
Because they were recently acquired skills - at least, evolutionarily speaking
- they were pushed aside by primitive desires like the killing instinct
and fear.
Stretching out his mind, he tried to find someone
else in this structure in which he was being held - some other soul to
connect to and glean information from.
But his mind met with an impenetrable wall of
blackness.
It was as if he were in a psychic abyss.
He had tried to reach someone numerous times since
he had been here, but had found nothing.
So, Tom had turned to his memories of that night
to try and figure out what had happened - what had gone wrong.
And those thoughts inevitably led to Sloan, and
the look on her face as she had stepped out of her car. Tom could never
in a thousand years justly describe the look in her eyes, or the way her
face had seemed to crash before him as she realized what was happening.
As he had looked at her for what he knew to be
the last time in his life, Tom had felt wave upon wave of worry and concern
float towards him from her. But underneath that, he felt her endless love
for him. It was what he always felt from her no matter where they were.
Always, either on the surface, or floating along with the eddies of her
other emotions, was her love for him.
In those few moments that he had had strength
left to fight the men taking him, he had tried to let her see how he felt
- how he loved her; how he would never stop.
Tom knew that he was probably all the way back
to 1.6 by now, but curiously, he still felt love for Sloan. It wasn't like
before the shot. Before, he had known that he cared for Sloan - that he
would never leave her and protect her with his life, but he hadn't been
able to label that feeling. He hadn't known love or what it really meant,
and so he had been cautious to say that he loved Sloan, because he wasn't
sure that was what it was. Tom had thought that perhaps what he felt was
what friends felt for each other - the way Ed felt about Sloan - but when
he had been human for those few cherished hours, he had been given the
most precious gift: true emotions.
And with those emotions came understanding, and
with understanding came the knowledge that he *did* love Sloan.
Tom chuckled mirthlessly, trying to flex his fingers
to coax the blood back, and realized the greatest irony of all.
The moment that he had finally understood and
accepted that he loved Sloan was when he had been taken from her.
Now it was too late for them, because he would
never see Sloan again. Never touch her hair, or drink in her green eyes
as one would drink from a jungle pool. Never have the chance to tell her
that he loved her - that he still loved her, even though he was once again
a Dominant.
That thought made Tom wish that whatever was planned
for him would happen soon, and that Death would call him into her dark
arms quickly. |