[He's shaking his head repeatedly, putting his face into his hands, running his hands back through his hair.]
No... No, it's... I realized... it... it learned. It was learning. It was responding... to organic material. Like... [He pauses, voice quivering briefly.] Like my blood.
It... holds the key. It holds the key to life and death. Somewhere. I was trying to find it... I was trying to stop... [He glances up, ashamed.] I was trying to cure myself. I was testing it on me.
[Of course it does... at this point, Luke would almost be more surprised if that wasn't what it was. Scien and Dahut, Eunhyuk and Viktor, and himself--it's the strangest of commonalities tying them together. Luke's always been a protective sort, and he'd naturally picked up the mantle of trying to get them all home the moment everyone woke up, but it's undeniable that their ragged little group is on a different level, for him.
So maybe it's that bias, or maybe it's because he believes Viktor is a good person, but he just returns Viktor's look steadily. As far as he's concerned, it sounds like extremely stupid behavior--but it's not like he doesn't get it. And if Viktor was only hurting himself, not others, well... that's his decision.]
You had to know that was reckless. [Luke points it out, because it needs to be said.] ...But it's understandable.
[He puts his face into one of his hands, still ashamed.]
I know... I know that. But it was only supposed to be reckless for me. No one else was supposed to...
[Desperation made him foolish. The thought of dying before he barely started with his life, snuffed out before he could accomplish anything he wanted.]
She walked in... It was an accident. I didn't expect... Sky, our assistant. She tried to stop me, but the Core...
[Maybe he should say something kind and reassuring--it's not your fault or you didn't know. But Luke's kindness doesn't often come in the form of unprompted absolution. He rests a hand on Viktor's knee, and his expression isn't cold or unsympathetic, but... well. Nothing he can say can bring Sky back, and to him, it's obvious: there is no magic key to life and death. Not one that comes without a cost. Viktor should've known that nothing good could come from an object that demanded blood.
So he just lets Viktor explain, and nods gently.]
Was it... what, some kind of defense mechanism? Do you know?
[As someone crushed into the pavement by guilt and shame, no amount of reassurance would help anyway. He did that. It was an accident, but it doesn't matter. He did that.
Gently, he shakes his head.]
No. It... It reacts to stimuli, it accepts transmutation. She tried to pull me away, but... all I could think about was being so close. So I grabbed the Core anyway. It took her... as payment. It reacts to what's organic, and she was the perfect exchange.
But again, Luke just nods, listening quietly. It's tragic, it really is--and he thinks Viktor is certainly less to blame than he probably feels he is, but. It's very true: At the end of the day, she's gone, all because of something Viktor was studying for his own reasons. Luke can't say he understands exactly how Viktor feels, but he doesn't not get it, either. He stands by what he'd said earlier.]
[Luke opens his mouth--but whatever he was about to say is lost as the lab, along with the Core and the ashes of Viktor's slain friend, vanish.
Instead, they find themselves in a hospital ward, the steady beeping of medical equipment filling the air around them. The ward is empty, save for one bed--the figure in it is familiar to Viktor, though younger than the man beside him now. The present-day Luke has frozen, his face ashen; the one on the bed trashes, clutching something in his hand.
Sunlight streams through the window, yet the hospital room seems to grow darker, and the whispers, louder.
Join us.
It's only fair.
Why did you survive?
Slowly, the shadows begin to form into hands--they reach for the young Luke, whose eyes remain tightly shut.]
Viktor immediately stiffens. His heart leaps into his throat. He reaches out to grab a fistful of the clothes of Luke's shoulder because the familiar stringent smell, the sight of the hospital shoots ice through his blood.]
But Luke--the Luke Viktor knows--seems to be out of commission. The nightmare has caught hold of him too, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow as he watches the memory play out.
The shadows grow, evolving into figures, though their faces are unclear. They loom over the Luke on the bed. All the while, the voices continue.
Why do you cling to life? Will you leave us behind?
They grab at his legs, pulling. He thrashes harder, though he still refuses to let go of whatever is in his hand.
It's only fair. Join us. Join us--
The hospital door slams open. It's enough to jolt the boy on the bed into wakefulness, and the shadowy figures vanish. He's instantly seized with a harsh coughing fit, curling into himself as the machines beep and whirr frantically. Viktor can catch a glimpse of a doctor striding quickly into the room and over to the memory Luke, before the vision fades.
The only reason he unlatches from Luke is because he is worried about Luke 2. Panicked, he jumps unsteadily to his feet as if he thinks he really can do anything to ward off a pack of violent, taunting shadows.]
Stop!
[The door opening also startles him, too; he jumps in place, his breath leaving him momentarily. The cough dredges up a very familiar anxiety in him. He steps forward, but the whole scene slips through his fingers like sand. It's almost like it was a nightmare.
He stands and tries to make his heart be still, slowly glancing back at Luke.]
[Wouldn't it be funny if I was like "surprise he was actually a secret twin all along"
But no--left on the floor is the same person that's always been here: the Luke that survived, despite it all. He has one hand to his mouth and the other at his chest, as if he's braced for a flare-up even though he hasn't had one since his death. When nothing happens, he lowers his hand, breathing unsteadily--only then does he seem to remember he wasn't alone, glancing up at Viktor through his bangs.]
I--[...] Sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that.
After a moment of hesitation, he goes back to Luke, carefully crouching beside him. The fingers he puts on Luke's shoulder are tentative, just in case Luke doesn't want to be touched.]
You don't have to apologize for something I've seen in my own self.
[WHY DOES EVERYONE HERE KEEP CONVERGING AT THE WORST PLACES???]
[He doesn't flinch--but he's still extremely tense under Viktor's hand, and though he meets Viktor's eyes, there's something guarded in his expression, like a stray dog lashing out to protect a wound. And it's extremely unfair, but that's simply the sort of person Luke is: A man who has a thousand ways of getting his hands on the secrets of others, all while guarding his own so fiercely that only divine intervention could force them out.
But despite their similarities, he doesn't want Viktor to get the wrong idea. If his cards are going to be yanked out of his hand, then he wants to at least take control of the narrative.
So, even though his voice is rough, reluctant--]
It's not--[...] It was from a gas attack. That's why I was in there. [He looks away, back in the direction of the hospital bed, as if he can still see it.] The medicine my team received was contaminated.
[And. Well. Viktor can probably guess the fates of the others, after what they just saw.]
He turns his head ever so slightly to follow Luke's look toward where the bed had been. Yeah, okay, don't think about that. He glances back again.
It isn't too different from himself actually. He knows what that's like, not an attack necessarily, but fate putting you at the wrong place at the wrong time. But this isn't about him right now, so.]
Your medicine was... contaminated...? [NO] Someone was trying to poison you, or it was just... accidental?
[OVER HIS DEAD BODY except not this dead one but a better, deader one.]
We're still not sure. I've been trying to trace it. [He chews on his lip for a minute, clearly unhappy. But Viktor is a scientist, so... he can share this much, he guesses.] If my suspicions are right, then it's probably a strain of something that should've been destroyed over twenty years ago. [...] It's supposed to have gene-repairing properties, though the chances of irreversible damage and death have always been far too high. This isn't the first time that it's been tested on unsuspecting people.
[The gas attack--that wasn't "wrong place, wrong time," really. But this, the illness that's shaved his lifespan down to three years and change--that very well might be.]
Viktor frowns because he is an engineer, and he has spent his whole life wanting nothing more than to create things that help other people. He's... a fixer. He solves problems. That's the only thing he thinks he's good at, he thinks.]
Luke...
[He's not sure what to say. There isn't any kind of reassurances he can give.]
I'm sorry. I do... understand. In a way, I guess. The doctors said the pollution of the Undercity is... what made me sick. They only gave me a year or so to live. I know it's... hard.
[Viktor is being so kind, and distantly, Luke knows that his instinct to recoil is a bad habit. He lost count of how many times he lashed out at Aaron during his stay in the hospital back then, and even now, he gets prickly if he feels too exposed. He looks away, pressing his lips together, wrestling with the clash between his instincts--the desire to run from having his weaknesses looked at so closely, and the desire to stay and offer that same comfort to Viktor, someone who just relived his own traumatic memory.
After a moment--]
...Three, for me.
[Which--he wouldn't have said anything anyway, but that's part of the reason he thought it was okay; it wasn't supposed to catch up with him this quickly.]
[He won't act like three years is something to be grateful for at all. He knows how it feels, too, for people to tell you that you should be proud of what you've done so far, and you should be happy you even get three more years. He's tired of it coming from people who have more than a hundred and fifty-year long lifespans, too.]
I know it means nothing sometimes, but... I'm sorry.
[Luke really just keeled over speedily after waking up on the ship, damn.]
I imagine you're... not much different than me, hm? Working on a way to try to stop it, to fix it. How close are you to that?
[It grates, even from Viktor--but now that the adrenaline of reliving his nightmare is starting to fade, he's a little more able to regain control of his facade. So he nods quietly, accepting the sentiment for what it is: understanding, not pity.
He sighs, some of the tension leaving him in favor of exhaustion.]
I'm working with a special investigation team to try and trace where it's coming from, since it shouldn't even be in the country. We've made some progress, but we haven't found our answers yet. [...] My doctor's been working on treatments. But I'm the only person he can test them on, and I can't afford to be hospitalized for long periods of time.
[So. It is what it is. Rather than focusing on a cure for himself, Luke has turned his attention to preventing others from befalling the same fate.]
[You are closed tighter than a nun's legs, Luke, goddamn.
And also continue to just be a little like Viktor anyway. Very funny half the fucking people in the graveyard at first all had the same sort of arc. LOVE THAT FOR THEM.]
It's okay... I haven't found the answers either. [A gesture at nothing.] Clearly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He takes a moment to try stopping the shaking to his arms. It's not happening.]
The... The Hex Core. It's the... Hex Core. What I was... working on last.
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Well, if he's still shaking, then Luke is going to try and guide him to sit down so he can crouch down in front of him, worried.]
And it attacked you?
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No... No, it's... I realized... it... it learned. It was learning. It was responding... to organic material. Like... [He pauses, voice quivering briefly.] Like my blood.
It... holds the key. It holds the key to life and death. Somewhere. I was trying to find it... I was trying to stop... [He glances up, ashamed.] I was trying to cure myself. I was testing it on me.
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So maybe it's that bias, or maybe it's because he believes Viktor is a good person, but he just returns Viktor's look steadily. As far as he's concerned, it sounds like extremely stupid behavior--but it's not like he doesn't get it. And if Viktor was only hurting himself, not others, well... that's his decision.]
You had to know that was reckless. [Luke points it out, because it needs to be said.] ...But it's understandable.
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I know... I know that. But it was only supposed to be reckless for me. No one else was supposed to...
[Desperation made him foolish. The thought of dying before he barely started with his life, snuffed out before he could accomplish anything he wanted.]
She walked in... It was an accident. I didn't expect... Sky, our assistant. She tried to stop me, but the Core...
[The sand on the ground was ashes.]
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So he just lets Viktor explain, and nods gently.]
Was it... what, some kind of defense mechanism? Do you know?
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Gently, he shakes his head.]
No. It... It reacts to stimuli, it accepts transmutation. She tried to pull me away, but... all I could think about was being so close. So I grabbed the Core anyway. It took her... as payment. It reacts to what's organic, and she was the perfect exchange.
It turned her to ash right in front of me.
1/2
But again, Luke just nods, listening quietly. It's tragic, it really is--and he thinks Viktor is certainly less to blame than he probably feels he is, but. It's very true: At the end of the day, she's gone, all because of something Viktor was studying for his own reasons. Luke can't say he understands exactly how Viktor feels, but he doesn't not get it, either. He stands by what he'd said earlier.]
2/2
The void is still open, after all; and as they talk, the scene around them begins to shift. Whispers begin to fill the air.
Yes. You should die too.
Luke whips his head to the side, eyes darting around the room.]
...Did you hear that?
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He freezes from both the voice and Luke's reaction. He listens for a second, and then slowly lifts his head to glance around them.]
...Yes.
[HE DOES NOT WANT TO AGREE, but it feels better to agree with someone else when it comes to hearing disembodied voices.]
Who...?
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Instead, they find themselves in a hospital ward, the steady beeping of medical equipment filling the air around them. The ward is empty, save for one bed--the figure in it is familiar to Viktor, though younger than the man beside him now. The present-day Luke has frozen, his face ashen; the one on the bed trashes, clutching something in his hand.
Sunlight streams through the window, yet the hospital room seems to grow darker, and the whispers, louder.
Join us.
It's only fair.
Why did you survive?
Slowly, the shadows begin to form into hands--they reach for the young Luke, whose eyes remain tightly shut.]
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Oh boy.
Viktor immediately stiffens. His heart leaps into his throat. He reaches out to grab a fistful of the clothes of Luke's shoulder because the familiar stringent smell, the sight of the hospital shoots ice through his blood.]
--Luke?!
[There are TWO Lukes!!]
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But Luke--the Luke Viktor knows--seems to be out of commission. The nightmare has caught hold of him too, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow as he watches the memory play out.
The shadows grow, evolving into figures, though their faces are unclear. They loom over the Luke on the bed. All the while, the voices continue.
Why do you cling to life? Will you leave us behind?
They grab at his legs, pulling. He thrashes harder, though he still refuses to let go of whatever is in his hand.
It's only fair. Join us. Join us--
The hospital door slams open. It's enough to jolt the boy on the bed into wakefulness, and the shadowy figures vanish. He's instantly seized with a harsh coughing fit, curling into himself as the machines beep and whirr frantically. Viktor can catch a glimpse of a doctor striding quickly into the room and over to the memory Luke, before the vision fades.
We are back to Luke (singular).]
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The only reason he unlatches from Luke is because he is worried about Luke 2. Panicked, he jumps unsteadily to his feet as if he thinks he really can do anything to ward off a pack of violent, taunting shadows.]
Stop!
[The door opening also startles him, too; he jumps in place, his breath leaving him momentarily. The cough dredges up a very familiar anxiety in him. He steps forward, but the whole scene slips through his fingers like sand. It's almost like it was a nightmare.
He stands and tries to make his heart be still, slowly glancing back at Luke.]
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But no--left on the floor is the same person that's always been here: the Luke that survived, despite it all. He has one hand to his mouth and the other at his chest, as if he's braced for a flare-up even though he hasn't had one since his death. When nothing happens, he lowers his hand, breathing unsteadily--only then does he seem to remember he wasn't alone, glancing up at Viktor through his bangs.]
I--[...] Sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that.
[Memories were bad enough; why nightmares, too?]
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After a moment of hesitation, he goes back to Luke, carefully crouching beside him. The fingers he puts on Luke's shoulder are tentative, just in case Luke doesn't want to be touched.]
You don't have to apologize for something I've seen in my own self.
[WHY DOES EVERYONE HERE KEEP CONVERGING AT THE WORST PLACES???]
I know what it's like to be sick and haunted.
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But despite their similarities, he doesn't want Viktor to get the wrong idea. If his cards are going to be yanked out of his hand, then he wants to at least take control of the narrative.
So, even though his voice is rough, reluctant--]
It's not--[...] It was from a gas attack. That's why I was in there. [He looks away, back in the direction of the hospital bed, as if he can still see it.] The medicine my team received was contaminated.
[And. Well. Viktor can probably guess the fates of the others, after what they just saw.]
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He turns his head ever so slightly to follow Luke's look toward where the bed had been. Yeah, okay, don't think about that. He glances back again.
It isn't too different from himself actually. He knows what that's like, not an attack necessarily, but fate putting you at the wrong place at the wrong time. But this isn't about him right now, so.]
Your medicine was... contaminated...? [NO] Someone was trying to poison you, or it was just... accidental?
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We're still not sure. I've been trying to trace it. [He chews on his lip for a minute, clearly unhappy. But Viktor is a scientist, so... he can share this much, he guesses.] If my suspicions are right, then it's probably a strain of something that should've been destroyed over twenty years ago. [...] It's supposed to have gene-repairing properties, though the chances of irreversible damage and death have always been far too high. This isn't the first time that it's been tested on unsuspecting people.
[The gas attack--that wasn't "wrong place, wrong time," really. But this, the illness that's shaved his lifespan down to three years and change--that very well might be.]
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Viktor frowns because he is an engineer, and he has spent his whole life wanting nothing more than to create things that help other people. He's... a fixer. He solves problems. That's the only thing he thinks he's good at, he thinks.]
Luke...
[He's not sure what to say. There isn't any kind of reassurances he can give.]
I'm sorry. I do... understand. In a way, I guess. The doctors said the pollution of the Undercity is... what made me sick. They only gave me a year or so to live. I know it's... hard.
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After a moment--]
...Three, for me.
[Which--he wouldn't have said anything anyway, but that's part of the reason he thought it was okay; it wasn't supposed to catch up with him this quickly.]
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I know it means nothing sometimes, but... I'm sorry.
[Luke really just keeled over speedily after waking up on the ship, damn.]
I imagine you're... not much different than me, hm? Working on a way to try to stop it, to fix it. How close are you to that?
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He sighs, some of the tension leaving him in favor of exhaustion.]
I'm working with a special investigation team to try and trace where it's coming from, since it shouldn't even be in the country. We've made some progress, but we haven't found our answers yet. [...] My doctor's been working on treatments. But I'm the only person he can test them on, and I can't afford to be hospitalized for long periods of time.
[So. It is what it is. Rather than focusing on a cure for himself, Luke has turned his attention to preventing others from befalling the same fate.]
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And also continue to just be a little like Viktor anyway. Very funny half the fucking people in the graveyard at first all had the same sort of arc. LOVE THAT FOR THEM.]
It's okay... I haven't found the answers either. [A gesture at nothing.] Clearly.
But... I... still would like to try.
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BUT TRULY THOUGH WHY ARE THEY ALL THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE. This is why you're all Luke's water bottles even if you exhaust him (*hypocritical).
He's quiet for a minute.]
Are you sure that Core is the only way?
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