Title: Descending (1/1)
Summary: In which dragons are fought and the heroes don't always win.
Rating: PG13.
Disclaimer: Cameron and Eglee.
Date: Aug. 10, 12, 15, 2001.

"Don't," she said. "Don't leave." Brin's dark eyes were fever-bright. Somewhere between sleep and waking, caution had been torn free in bloody strips. She felt a wild abundance of words and emotions and she would not hold them to herself as the training this man had provided her with demanded. "Listen. You owe me that much at least. Listen."

"Owe you?" Lydecker said, his voice mild. He moved to stand at her bedside.

Such a contradictory man, Brin thought. She could smell mingled exultation and regret lingering around him. She wondered if he truly understood what he had helped to create. She wondered if he knew that his children had been provided with senses to read him and the skills to ferret out that information not readily available to sight, scent, sound, touch, taste.

"Owe me," Brin said, fierce. "You made me. You'll destroy me. I want you to listen."

Lydecker shook his head minutely. "Such melodrama isn't becoming, Brin. You aren't going to be injured--certainly not destroyed. We are simply reminding you of your duty."

Brin's head rolled from side to side on her pillow, impatient. "Shut up. Shut up you son of a bitch," Brin said. Her teeth were barred. She was wild, reckless, and this was it. This moment was her last chance, her dying gasp. They would take away her words, her thoughts, her feelings until the woman she became wouldn't be able to comprehend what this moment was. "I'll be listening to you for the rest of my life. Now, right now, you'll hear me."

She could read his reluctance in his stance, the set of his face, the sound of his breathing, his scent. She knew of his grudging acceptance before he spoke and she felt like crying. "Okay. Okay. I'm here. Talk."

"You're going to remember me," Brin said. "When I'm not me anymore, you'll remember who I was."

Lydecker was wearing his soldier's mask. He thought it made him distant, hard, unreadable. It was nothing. Lydecker shook his head, stern, annoyed by her insistence of her own destruction. She could see the flicker of unwanted knowing. Some of them hadn't understood, hadn't known that the X5s were individuals with wants and emotions. Lydecker had known. He had seen and understood and he had used them despite that knowledge.

"You were married," Brin said.

"Yes. Yes, I was."

"You loved her."

Lydecker was still. "Very much so."

"Was she worth it? Worth the pain?" Brin asked.

The muscle in Lydecker's jaw twitched.

"C'mon," Brin said, all teeth and wild eyes. "C'mon, Deck."

"Yes," Lydecker said.

"Ah," Brin said. She shifted slightly in her restraints. "Do you know why we ran that night?"

"You viewed events through children's eyes. You were confused. Frightened," Lydecker said. "You didn't understand what we were trying to accomplish." The words were easily said, familiar and well-worn. He believed them.

"Did you know that we were told stories at night? We dreamt of a place where we could sleep as long as we wanted. No one was screamed at, or punished, or taken away. We had to dream that. Imagine it. Could hardly believe that there was a place where that might be true," Brin said. She licked at dry lips and sank back into her bedding.

"You were soldiers. Discipline was required," Lydecker said.

"You didn't even like that we cared for each other," Brin said, soft. She paused, smiled slightly. "I've never been in love. I've been too frightened of you, this place, the person you tried to make me. I'm never going to fall in love. Not here. Not ever. I'll be a dutiful soldier. I'll be devoted to my mission, Manticore, duty and discipline. I'll follow orders until the day I die and there won't be room for anything else."

"You were created to serve Manticore. You were trained as a soldier. Everything else is immaterial," Lydecker said.

Brin's eyes went unfocused. There were a thousand things she could have spoken of. She had already made herself forget some of the most important. The memory of memory lingered. "I was living on the streets when I was ten," Brin said, finally. "I found a litter of kittens. I wasn't the first. Their skulls had been crushed. They hadn't been dead long--I could still feel the heat of them, the scent of blood was fresh, strong. One of them was still alive. I loved it, that kitten," Brin said. Her fingers were moving against crisp sheets, remembering the feel of fur. "I left her behind when I ran again. I remember wanting to cry because I missed her and I'd been alone so long. It wasn't fair."

There was sharpness in Brin's voice and face when she continued. "It isn't immaterial. You had a family, a life outside of Manticore. You denied us--continue to deny us--what even you were allowed to experience."

"This is for the best, Brin." Lydecker's fingers were cool and dry against the back of Brin's hand. "Go to sleep," he said and stepped away.

"I'm not a child anymore," Brin said. "I've seen the world. I still hate you. This place. What you want to make me. Remember me, Deck. Remember _me_ when I'm like all the rest. She won't be me, and what you'll give me won't be a life."

"Brin," Lydecker said. He paused and looked back at her. He couldn't not see the shine of tears in her eyes. "It'll be better soon, Brin," he said and closed the door behind him.

...~*~...

Disorientation swept through Brin. Force of will kept her body from betraying her emotions. The room seemed smaller than her child's memory had led her to believe it was. She felt disconnected from herself. Brin suspected that she felt fear, although the reasons for such a response were no longer clear.

She had grown up in a environment where tension and competition were the norm. There had been fights and grudges amongst the X5s. They had always pulled together before outsiders. They had know that despite their conflicts, they were all they had. Just them against Lydecker. Against Manticore. Against the world. The X5s training in the room sent slanted glances in her direction. The gazes were full of suspicion, muted scorn.

"Cray?" Brin said, uncertain.

He was short and broad with carefully tamed brown hair and he was Cray. His voice was deep, hard, cold and he didn't sound like the brother she had known. "Defend yourself," he said and struck out with his fist.

She hadn't been too slow in a fight since she had left Manticore behind. She wasn't fast here, now. The blow took her in the stomach. Brin could feel the heavy press of thick knuckles. Bruises began to birth below her skin. Brin flew back several feet. She could still remember not to scream. The floor vibrated and Brin's eyes slid to her right. Laine had slammed Jace into the ground.

"No," Brin said. "No."

Coward, traitor, Cray's body screamed. "Defend yourself," Cray said.

"Cray," Brin said. "God. Cray."

There was no finesse in Cray's next attack. He caught Brin's ribs with a contemptuous kick.

Brin rose to her hands and knees. She looked up at her brother. "I'm not afraid to die," she said, and knew the words to be absurd. She had come back here, to this place, to this moment like a thousand others. "It doesn't have to be like this," she said, and saw that he no more believed this statement than the first.

Cray's lips twisted. "Defend yourself," he said and moved forward again. He caught Brin by the back of her head, his thick fingers sinking into braided hair. He pulled her upwards slightly and brought his knee into her face. He let go. Stepped back. Smiled without smiling.

Brin could taste her own blood tricking down the back of her throat, at her lips. Blood was splattered against the leg of Cray's pants. "Cray. Fuck. Cray," Brin said. She couldn't remember what she was doing--why she was bleeding, on the ground, her opponent untouched. She'd thought that this resistance might have meant something. All it meant was pain, humiliation, weakness.

She could see Laine and Jace from the corner of her eye. Jace hadn't been left gasping on the ground. She had risen. Laine and Jace were meeting blow with blow, quick and strong. They leapt into each other, met midair, flipped on the mat and rose again.

"Defend yourself," Cray said, and Brin despised him.

"No. No," Brin said, and didn't know what she was denying. "No," she said again and flipped to her feet. Her ribs screamed their protest at the display. "No," Brin said around a snarl. She lunged forward, swept through Cray's defenses and caught him hard on the jaw with her fist. Her leg was moving without conscious thought and Brin's foot connected with Cray's knee.

Cray had gone down onto the mat, on his back. Brin followed. He caught her wrists before they could land and he was still stronger than her, still faster, still _better_. "Brin," Cray said. "Brin," and he was smiling.

Brin's eyes rounded. "I don't want this."

Cray squeezed her captive wrists, lightly. "This is who you are."

"This isn't who I am," Brin said.

"This is all you have."

"You don't understand," Brin said, desperate. Uncertain.

"I do. I do, Brin. You were lost. Confused. Misdirected."

"Cray. Please."

"This is your home. We're your family. We can make you strong, Brin. We can help you become what you were meant to be--what you _want_ to be."

"I. No. I. This isn't what I want," Brin said.

"It is. Don't lie, Brin. This is what you want. This is why you came back. You were tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of living a life without meaning."

Brin drew in a sharp breath. She knew the scents in the air. Cray. Jace. Laine. Ro. Rafe. Sweat and blood and pain and exhilaration. "You ran with us. You were there."

Cray's heartbeat had slowed to normal. He slid out from under Brin, rose to his feet and drew her up with him. "A mistake. I was caught up in the moment."

"I've been free, Cray."

"No. Everything out there, that's a lie. This is real. This is who and what we are, right here." He looked at her, eyes dark and intent. "Tell me that your life outside was the fairy tale Ben imagined for us."

"It. I. No. Yes," Brin said. It had been everything she wanted. It had been nothing she wanted. It was.

"Over, it's over, Brin. This is where you are. This is what you have. Let us help," Cray said, gentle, gentle, and his hand was heavy and warm at her wrist.

Drying blood was making her skin itch. Brin wiped at her upper lip with the back of her hand. "I can't think anymore," she said.

"Okay. That's okay. We'll help you, little sister," Cray said.

"Who am I?"

Cray stiffened. Shoulders back. Feet apart. "Sir!" Laine and Jace cried out in unison, poses identical to Cray's.

Brin turned to face Lydecker. Thoughts were slow and soft. She could remember anger, defiance, loss felt in this man's presence. A lifetime ago, hardly a memory at all. Brin's arm rose slowly, fell into a salute. "Sir," she said.

He looked at her. "Carry on, soldiers," Lydecker said. He stood and watched and was still there when a bone in Brin's forearm was broken. She didn't cry out and didn't stop until he dismissed her.

~end~