patterns_bloom | OOM: The Confrontation

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OOM: The Confrontation

Heart pounding, Alana fumbles for the lock once she's inside Hannibal's office. X is with her, so she's not afraid as she could have been. She draws a careful breath, and then turns and fires at the door with her gun. She peeks through the bullet hole. Hannibal passes by, making her jump, and she fires again.

"I've found more bullets!" she snarls savagely, intending to bring this bastard down, intending to live despite knowing that another her has already failed once.

She faces down the door, backing away from it while holding her gun high and steady, ready for anything. She flicks her gaze to X. "Should we charge him? I'm following your lead."

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Dr. Lecter is right beyond the reach of that door, blood-coloured, large knife in hand, ready.

Alana inhales sharply. Her heart races, and her eyes stay fixed on the blood-soaked Dr. Lecter. She never lowered her gun, so she takes aim and fires.

X is already moving at Hannibal, quick and low, claws out.

All of her senses are extended, ready to react regardless of what move the doctor makes.

The effects of Alana's bullet are not relevant.

Yet.

He is hit, and the blood is spurting from his shoulder, but he doesn't stop yet, coming at Alana with his knife raised.

"I said I would kill you, didn't I?"

His eyes are a glowing, almost inhuman red as he regards Alana, ignoring X completely.

Alana's breath catches in her throat and she freezes, hands shaking around her gun. She shakes that off, and fires again.

Some mistakes a person only gets to make once.

X collides with Hannibal, launching herself airborne before she does so.

It makes it easier to stab one set of claws through his head, even as her foot claws hit him at about waist height and go in through his guts. Her other hand's claws she stabs straight into his heart.

Bones do not mean much to adamantium.

Through it all X is utterly silent.

"Oh, Alana," Hannibal sighs as he crumples to the floor; he twitches again and lies still.

Blood spatters on Alana's face. She pants softly, eyes wide, as tears trickle down her face. Shaking, she drops to her knees, her gun clattering to thw floor. She lets loose a keening cry, and then is silent.

X sheathes her claws, then moves over to Alana, dropping into a crouch and looking into her face.

Her head tilts very slightly.

"You want me to take the body? Back. With me."

Beat.

"Or that will cause too many questions. Here."

Alana swings her head around to face X, having difficulty focusing on her. "I... I don't know," Alana says, in a monotone. She shakes herself, and slaps her cheeks. "This much blood will be difficult to explain, but so will a disemboweled body."

Alana draws a shaky breath, and hugs herself. "Take him. Please."

"You should wake Abigail."

X's voice is matter-of-fact.

"So your stories will match."

And then she moves to this world's Hannibal, hefting the body over her shoulder and ignoring the blood that leaks all over her.

"Going downstairs might be good. Too. I think someone is hurt. There."

A pause.

"Or maybe it is better not to go down. Until the police come."

"Jack," Alana gasps, covering her lips with her trembling hands. "Jack's in the pantry." She stands, and stumbles along the way.

Then she stops, and turns. "Thank you, X. I don't know how to repay you."

X just looks back at her, blood-stained and upright -- even under the weight of the corpse she is removing for disposal.

"This is what I do. It is okay."

And then she turns, heading for the door out of this room -- not the broken one that leads to the office -- and the clattering sounds of the patrons of Milliways beyond.

Honestly, most of them have probably seen stranger things than this.

X leaving Alana galvanizes her into action. Alana heads to check on Jack first, and, upon finding him alive, assures him that Hannibal Lecter is dead, and that help is coming. She leaves him to go check on Abigail, and crouches by her unconscious body.

"Abigail," Alana says, patting her cheek. "Abigail, wake up."

Perhaps fortunately, Abigail's first reaction once her eyes flutter open doesn't concern Alana, but herself. She reaches immediately for her neck, in one sharp movement sitting up against the wall and gripping her throat, as though convinced she's bleeding.

She breathes fast, and heavy, and doesn't look at Alana.

Alana doesn't touch her. The psychologist gives the girl plenty of space, but Alana does move in front of her, into her field of vision. Alana snaps her fingers thrice. "Abigail! You're safe now. Dr. Lecter is dead."

Abigail does blink to her, but her hands stay on her neck, and she keeps breathing heavily.

After a few second, she does slow enough to manage one word. "W-what?"

"You're safe now," Alana says again, settling onto the floor before her. "He's dead."

Finally, Abigail's breathing begins to ease.

But the moment it does, she starts to shake her head. "No, no -"

Alana holds her hands out. "He can't hurt you anymore. We'll get you some help."

Abigail shoves herself back against the wall, away from Alana's hands.

"No -" She's still shaking her head. "No, you can't help me -"

"Why don't you think so?" Alana says, unmoving from her kneeling position in the middle of the room. She listens for police sirens. "You're not beyond help, Abigail."

But Abigail keeps shaking her head.

And suddenly, she slams her hands to the floor, and pushes herself up. She makes no move toward Alana this time, but jumps to her feet, and starts to run toward the door.

The motion takes Alana by surprise, so she's slow to stand. "Abigail!" Alana says, trying to follow her. "Wait!"

Abigail doesn't wait. She jumps down the stairs, not pausing even long enough for one glance back before she throws herself through the front door, out into the rain.

Maybe she's steps out in time to see a taxi pull up in front of the house. But this still doesn't stop her. She only keeps running, disappearing into the night.

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patterns_bloom - 2017-11-17 04:59 (UTC) - Expand

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