Fic: Consequences (S&S Prompt fic)
Nov. 10th, 2012 05:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisbluespiritTitle: Consequences
Author:thisbluespirit
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1439
Characters/Pairings: Copper (some Copper/OFC)
Warnings Slight telepathic shippage, human/element, brief mentions of death/mortality/illness.
Summary: There’s something important Copper’s forgotten. (Pre-canon, 1860s.)
(Prompt 76: copper - College AU & Skeletons in the closet)
Refers back to Private Ventures (the “college au” therefore being the follow up from the school au – I’m not planning on writing that type of AU with Elements).
***
There’s a woman following him. Copper waits at the corner for her. He’s curious, wondering who or what she is. She came into the shop earlier, before the assignment there was over and she must have waited out here all this time. He smiles wryly to himself: if he hadn’t come outside to ascertain that the disturbance was gone, she wouldn’t have had the chance. Perhaps, after all, he can be too careful.
She is human, he’s sure of that and still fairly young, but there is something else – something that he can’t quite decipher. He wishes one of the others were here to take proper readings. This isn’t a technician’s area of expertise.
She doesn’t run, though, or try to pretend she wasn’t looking for him. She stops in front of him and gives a nervous smile. “Sir,” she says. “Mr Smith. It is, isn’t it?”
Copper looks down at her. “No.” He tries to drive her away with a patronising, human dismissal, the sort of thing she must surely expect: “You’re mistaken, my dear.”
But you are him, she says in the other way, not like a human. I know you are.
Smith. He isn’t, but once he was, or believed he was. Copper draws her to the side of the street, into the dark passageway between the houses. Something had caught him once, trapped him in a life that was not his and he had taught – he had taught this girl. And he had done that without knowing what he was… Copper looks down at her. He’s reluctant to agree; it’s an untruth, it always was, but he reaches out a hand to touch her.
I… was a teacher, yes, he returns cautiously. Then he watches her. He knows what it was he did now. It’s uncomfortably obvious. She has a small part of his abilities. It is something they can do at times. She was young when it happened and he can see that she adapted and grew around it, as young creatures often do. It is intriguing, even if it should not have occurred. “Yes. I had forgotten. And you – you were there. Anne,” he adds, finding the name.
She’s recovered some colour, he notes, although not a great deal. “I see things,” she says. “I don’t tell – they’d shut me away, wouldn’t they? But it was you, sir, wasn’t it? I knew that, but I don’t know –”
“Yes,” says Copper. “I’m sorry. It was an error.”
Anne smiles; there’s not much to her and the smile seems to shine through what there is. “You don’t have to be sorry, sir. I like it. Sometimes – sometimes it scares the lights out of me, but other times it’s – I don’t know. Seeing all the way down into things, or like I’ve got the sky in my head. I only want…” She stops again and bites her lip, the smile gone and she’s just a thin, pale human in worn clothes.
“You want to know why? Yes, I can understand that. But you can’t – you can’t keep this, you know. It isn’t safe.”
“Nothing’s safe, not really, sir,” she says, but she doesn’t argue any further, merely closes in on herself. She’s probably used to people giving her orders. She only gives a small grimace and sighs. You have to take it away?
“It’s imperative,” says Copper.
Anne leans against the wall and considers that for a moment. “Well, I suppose you’d know. But you tell me what it is and why first – and then you can look inside my head, seeing as you want to so badly.”
“Why not?” But he gives a slight smile and then nods for her to follow him as he follows the passage through to the court it opens into. He looks up: the nearest house is empty, for the moment at least. He takes her hand. “In here.”
She looks around her without any curiosity as they enter the house, narrow, gloomy and low-ceiled as it is. “It won’t hurt, will it, sir?”
“No,” he says and laughs at her worry.
Anne nods then. “You said you’d show me what it all is first.”
Copper should do what must be done without delay, but he is curious and there is no reason not to answer both their questions. He’s a technician, it’s in his nature to enquire into the way things work. He hesitates, because he always tries to be careful; he doesn’t play with humans as some of his colleagues seem to, not unless he must.
“May I…?” he says, and then places his hands to either side of her head as she nods. He’s not prepared for the resulting connection; the nature of it is something unique. He’s unwittingly completed a circuit and there is power running through it, a stronger current than he had expected. He knows how a human operates in ways that none of them do, he doesn’t comprehend the way those things feel. The heart beats, blood rushes round the veins; cells part and multiply and die. Or maybe he does, somewhere; maybe the ghost of Smith is lurking. And she’s reacting to the contact in a way that’s more human than most: she wants a deeper connection yet and her desire floods his mind, a red wave that flows back and forth between them.
Copper doesn’t play with humans. He lets this carry him so far and kisses her, but halts it there. He holds the moment; becomes cold and impassive, a barrier in himself, and she steps away in shock as if she’s found herself kissing only the chilly surface of the looking glass.
She backs into the wall behind her in her haste to get away, the colour now rushing into her cheeks bright against her usual pallor. “I didn’t mean –”
“No,” says Copper, almost amused. “You didn’t mean.” He leans back against the opposite wall and watches her. “Do you understand now?”
She shakes her head. “Well. Maybe some things. Sir –”
“I’m afraid I still need to put this right,” he said. “However, I’m prepared now. If you will allow me -?”
Anne looks back at him warily and then nods. Which is as well; he has to do this no matter what she says. Then as he moves, she holds up a hand, and says, “I think – things like – there was this book in the library at my last place, when I was dusting in there once. I knew it shouldn’t be there and I couldn’t explain it. I – I burned it. I had to.”
“Then you were probably right,” says Copper and he can’t help but smile: he did teach her more than he had realised. “But that’s the sort of thing we can’t have. You don’t know what you’re doing – the danger is unimaginable.”
She looks down with a sigh so slight another human might have missed it. “Yes. I did see that, just a bit.”
“For you as much as for anything else,” he adds, although he’s realising belatedly that she’s not got so very long left. She probably doesn’t know it, not yet, but he registers now tell-tale signs from their connection, common symptoms. He’s seen them before, many times. It’s hardly surprising.
She nods. “Yes. You’d better get on with it then, sir. We shouldn’t be in here, should we?”
“No,” he says, and put his hands to her head again, this time more wary of the ready-made connection. He reverses what he’s done, carefully. The mind is delicate, complicated, and he deals more usually with inanimate pieces of technology. He can’t help taking in information, even so, though it’s an irritating distraction – he leaves such readings to others, better equipped to do so. He knows the number of her days (405) and hears the echo of her heartbeat again. He wonders how they live with an internal clock that relentlessly counts down through their days. Still, Copper is not unnecessarily cruel. He can leave a little, almost a memory of what he’d done than anything more, but if she’d said she had the sky in her head than he’s left her a speck of that – one star, you could say.
“Well,” she says with a quick, brave smile, “you were right; it didn’t hurt.”
Copper pauses. There is probably something he should say; he doesn’t know what it is.
“I –” She stops and turns around as she reaches the door. “Maybe I don’t understand and maybe I’m not like you – but thank you.”
Yes, thinks Copper, that was probably it.
And she smiles again, as if she heard.
***
Author:
thisbluespiritRating: PG
Word Count: 1439
Characters/Pairings: Copper (some Copper/OFC)
Warnings Slight telepathic shippage, human/element, brief mentions of death/mortality/illness.
Summary: There’s something important Copper’s forgotten. (Pre-canon, 1860s.)
(Prompt 76: copper - College AU & Skeletons in the closet)
Refers back to Private Ventures (the “college au” therefore being the follow up from the school au – I’m not planning on writing that type of AU with Elements).
***
There’s a woman following him. Copper waits at the corner for her. He’s curious, wondering who or what she is. She came into the shop earlier, before the assignment there was over and she must have waited out here all this time. He smiles wryly to himself: if he hadn’t come outside to ascertain that the disturbance was gone, she wouldn’t have had the chance. Perhaps, after all, he can be too careful.
She is human, he’s sure of that and still fairly young, but there is something else – something that he can’t quite decipher. He wishes one of the others were here to take proper readings. This isn’t a technician’s area of expertise.
She doesn’t run, though, or try to pretend she wasn’t looking for him. She stops in front of him and gives a nervous smile. “Sir,” she says. “Mr Smith. It is, isn’t it?”
Copper looks down at her. “No.” He tries to drive her away with a patronising, human dismissal, the sort of thing she must surely expect: “You’re mistaken, my dear.”
But you are him, she says in the other way, not like a human. I know you are.
Smith. He isn’t, but once he was, or believed he was. Copper draws her to the side of the street, into the dark passageway between the houses. Something had caught him once, trapped him in a life that was not his and he had taught – he had taught this girl. And he had done that without knowing what he was… Copper looks down at her. He’s reluctant to agree; it’s an untruth, it always was, but he reaches out a hand to touch her.
I… was a teacher, yes, he returns cautiously. Then he watches her. He knows what it was he did now. It’s uncomfortably obvious. She has a small part of his abilities. It is something they can do at times. She was young when it happened and he can see that she adapted and grew around it, as young creatures often do. It is intriguing, even if it should not have occurred. “Yes. I had forgotten. And you – you were there. Anne,” he adds, finding the name.
She’s recovered some colour, he notes, although not a great deal. “I see things,” she says. “I don’t tell – they’d shut me away, wouldn’t they? But it was you, sir, wasn’t it? I knew that, but I don’t know –”
“Yes,” says Copper. “I’m sorry. It was an error.”
Anne smiles; there’s not much to her and the smile seems to shine through what there is. “You don’t have to be sorry, sir. I like it. Sometimes – sometimes it scares the lights out of me, but other times it’s – I don’t know. Seeing all the way down into things, or like I’ve got the sky in my head. I only want…” She stops again and bites her lip, the smile gone and she’s just a thin, pale human in worn clothes.
“You want to know why? Yes, I can understand that. But you can’t – you can’t keep this, you know. It isn’t safe.”
“Nothing’s safe, not really, sir,” she says, but she doesn’t argue any further, merely closes in on herself. She’s probably used to people giving her orders. She only gives a small grimace and sighs. You have to take it away?
“It’s imperative,” says Copper.
Anne leans against the wall and considers that for a moment. “Well, I suppose you’d know. But you tell me what it is and why first – and then you can look inside my head, seeing as you want to so badly.”
“Why not?” But he gives a slight smile and then nods for her to follow him as he follows the passage through to the court it opens into. He looks up: the nearest house is empty, for the moment at least. He takes her hand. “In here.”
She looks around her without any curiosity as they enter the house, narrow, gloomy and low-ceiled as it is. “It won’t hurt, will it, sir?”
“No,” he says and laughs at her worry.
Anne nods then. “You said you’d show me what it all is first.”
Copper should do what must be done without delay, but he is curious and there is no reason not to answer both their questions. He’s a technician, it’s in his nature to enquire into the way things work. He hesitates, because he always tries to be careful; he doesn’t play with humans as some of his colleagues seem to, not unless he must.
“May I…?” he says, and then places his hands to either side of her head as she nods. He’s not prepared for the resulting connection; the nature of it is something unique. He’s unwittingly completed a circuit and there is power running through it, a stronger current than he had expected. He knows how a human operates in ways that none of them do, he doesn’t comprehend the way those things feel. The heart beats, blood rushes round the veins; cells part and multiply and die. Or maybe he does, somewhere; maybe the ghost of Smith is lurking. And she’s reacting to the contact in a way that’s more human than most: she wants a deeper connection yet and her desire floods his mind, a red wave that flows back and forth between them.
Copper doesn’t play with humans. He lets this carry him so far and kisses her, but halts it there. He holds the moment; becomes cold and impassive, a barrier in himself, and she steps away in shock as if she’s found herself kissing only the chilly surface of the looking glass.
She backs into the wall behind her in her haste to get away, the colour now rushing into her cheeks bright against her usual pallor. “I didn’t mean –”
“No,” says Copper, almost amused. “You didn’t mean.” He leans back against the opposite wall and watches her. “Do you understand now?”
She shakes her head. “Well. Maybe some things. Sir –”
“I’m afraid I still need to put this right,” he said. “However, I’m prepared now. If you will allow me -?”
Anne looks back at him warily and then nods. Which is as well; he has to do this no matter what she says. Then as he moves, she holds up a hand, and says, “I think – things like – there was this book in the library at my last place, when I was dusting in there once. I knew it shouldn’t be there and I couldn’t explain it. I – I burned it. I had to.”
“Then you were probably right,” says Copper and he can’t help but smile: he did teach her more than he had realised. “But that’s the sort of thing we can’t have. You don’t know what you’re doing – the danger is unimaginable.”
She looks down with a sigh so slight another human might have missed it. “Yes. I did see that, just a bit.”
“For you as much as for anything else,” he adds, although he’s realising belatedly that she’s not got so very long left. She probably doesn’t know it, not yet, but he registers now tell-tale signs from their connection, common symptoms. He’s seen them before, many times. It’s hardly surprising.
She nods. “Yes. You’d better get on with it then, sir. We shouldn’t be in here, should we?”
“No,” he says, and put his hands to her head again, this time more wary of the ready-made connection. He reverses what he’s done, carefully. The mind is delicate, complicated, and he deals more usually with inanimate pieces of technology. He can’t help taking in information, even so, though it’s an irritating distraction – he leaves such readings to others, better equipped to do so. He knows the number of her days (405) and hears the echo of her heartbeat again. He wonders how they live with an internal clock that relentlessly counts down through their days. Still, Copper is not unnecessarily cruel. He can leave a little, almost a memory of what he’d done than anything more, but if she’d said she had the sky in her head than he’s left her a speck of that – one star, you could say.
“Well,” she says with a quick, brave smile, “you were right; it didn’t hurt.”
Copper pauses. There is probably something he should say; he doesn’t know what it is.
“I –” She stops and turns around as she reaches the door. “Maybe I don’t understand and maybe I’m not like you – but thank you.”
Yes, thinks Copper, that was probably it.
And she smiles again, as if she heard.
***
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Date: 2012-11-10 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-11-10 08:45 pm (UTC)(I've been embarrassingly prolific in writing today - embarrassingly because 2/3 of what I wrote was James Bond Pr0ns for
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Date: 2012-11-10 08:52 pm (UTC):-)
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Date: 2012-11-11 07:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-11 12:53 pm (UTC):-)
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Date: 2012-11-11 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-11 01:05 pm (UTC):-)
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Date: 2012-11-11 10:08 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing. ♥
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Date: 2012-11-12 01:30 pm (UTC)