He blinks and she's lying motionless in his office chair. He blinks again and she's still there motionless, eyes closed as if she's just asleep. Asleep with a hole in her frontal (or is it parietal? He doesn't focus on the point of impact.) lobe while her blood dances on every surface, the monitors, the table, his face...
It's just them in the room, but the romantic tension and squishy feelings are gone. Why? Bennet was sitting right there in front of him and they're not working, what was missing? He sinks down to the floor unable to move wondering why he doesn't want to be here anymore. A minute ago there was no where on earth he'd rather be, but now he just wanted to run. A minute ago there was Bennet and now...
Everyone else runs into his office before he knows it. The questions about a gunshot die in their throats the minute they see the former Washington programmer in Topher's chair and the blood dripping off Topher's face. Questions clutter and sounds begin mixing together but Topher answers "Whiskey," without really knowing why. Maybe he just really needed a drink right now. He knew better than all of them that it wasn't Whiskey's fault or Saunders', the blame lied deeper than that. Who had primarily suggested that Bennet had certain skills they needed? Who had created Saunders from a broken doll in the first place?
Suddenly there's a warm arm around him but it was a left arm. A left arm that wasn't dead. A living left arm leading to a voice calling him back to a world that he could no longer fit in. He came back and his chair was empty, his desk still holding Bennet's unfinished work. That's the only place she could be now so that's where he wanted to be.
no subject
He blinks and she's lying motionless in his office chair. He blinks again and she's still there motionless, eyes closed as if she's just asleep. Asleep with a hole in her frontal (or is it parietal? He doesn't focus on the point of impact.) lobe while her blood dances on every surface, the monitors, the table, his face...
It's just them in the room, but the romantic tension and squishy feelings are gone. Why? Bennet was sitting right there in front of him and they're not working, what was missing? He sinks down to the floor unable to move wondering why he doesn't want to be here anymore. A minute ago there was no where on earth he'd rather be, but now he just wanted to run. A minute ago there was Bennet and now...
Everyone else runs into his office before he knows it. The questions about a gunshot die in their throats the minute they see the former Washington programmer in Topher's chair and the blood dripping off Topher's face. Questions clutter and sounds begin mixing together but Topher answers "Whiskey," without really knowing why. Maybe he just really needed a drink right now. He knew better than all of them that it wasn't Whiskey's fault or Saunders', the blame lied deeper than that.
Who had primarily suggested that Bennet had certain skills they needed?
Who had created Saunders from a broken doll in the first place?
Suddenly there's a warm arm around him but it was a left arm. A left arm that wasn't dead. A living left arm leading to a voice calling him back to a world that he could no longer fit in. He came back and his chair was empty, his desk still holding Bennet's unfinished work.
That's the only place she could be now so that's where he wanted to be.