who_is_she (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
who_is_she) wrote2015-05-12 12:29 pm
who_is_she) wrote2015-05-12 12:29 pm
spooky roddie
Roddie was acting strangely. He had been ever since they picked up a box salvaged from a crashed ship about a day ago. Tony hadn't been very keen on the job, as they'd offered a substantial amount of money to pick up one box from the crash, and the only real difficulty was getting to the planet, which was slightly hostile and out of the way of any space station. It wasn't anything they couldn't handle, which was why the amount of money offered made Tony suspicious. He hadn't wanted to do it, but everyone else was excited about the payday, so Tony kept his mouth shut. They always took precautions, anyways, he reasoned, but now he was starting to regret his silence.
Roddie hadn't wanted to share a room last night, which wasn't altogether strange but it was the way he'd done it, claiming a headache and refusing to let Tony stay, even when he'd offered to get him water and some headache medicine. He'd told Tony he just wanted to lay down and didn't want to distract Tony from his work, and he hadn't given in no matter what Tony said to the contrary. Tony had agreed, reluctantly, because Roddie seemed agitated. He hadn't been able to sleep, worried that he'd done something to upset Roddie, and when he'd gotten up in the morning Roddie had been strangely distant and quiet.
He'd dodged it when Tony tried to give him a good morning kiss, and Tony was trying desperately not to sink into a panic about how Roddie was planning on breaking up with him.
Roddie hadn't wanted to share a room last night, which wasn't altogether strange but it was the way he'd done it, claiming a headache and refusing to let Tony stay, even when he'd offered to get him water and some headache medicine. He'd told Tony he just wanted to lay down and didn't want to distract Tony from his work, and he hadn't given in no matter what Tony said to the contrary. Tony had agreed, reluctantly, because Roddie seemed agitated. He hadn't been able to sleep, worried that he'd done something to upset Roddie, and when he'd gotten up in the morning Roddie had been strangely distant and quiet.
He'd dodged it when Tony tried to give him a good morning kiss, and Tony was trying desperately not to sink into a panic about how Roddie was planning on breaking up with him.
"We'll be pulling into the station in five minutes," he says, tapping away at his station on the bridge, where he was sending the ship's crew and cargo information to the station so they could dock. He hadn't been able to make eye contact with Roddie since the aborted kiss, too afraid of what he'd find there.
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"Uh, good," he says distantly, his heart thumping a little in his chest in surprise at the break in the silence, "Get us hotel reservations, and...see what there is to eat around here, I guess. I'll...let the others know we're close."
He stands up from his chair, looking over his shoulders as he walks out of the room.
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A couple of minutes later they're docked, and Tony stands to leave the ship, but when he joins the rest of the crew who's milling around on the docks Roddie is nowhere to be seen.
"Where'd Roddie?" he asks, looking around, "Did he go to the hotel?" The others look around, and nobody looks sure.
"He didn't come down to help us dock," says Zakeef, looking confused, "We thought he was with you." Tony looks around at the rest of them, panic rising in his gut.
"He's not with you? He told me he was coming down here and he left, five minutes ago! Where is he?" Tony rushes to the nearest console, asking Ajax for Roddie's whereabouts, but he comes up with nothing.
"He's... He's gone," he says, stunned, his heart thudding in his chest.
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"Did you notice him behaving...strangely at all?" asks Zakeef, after thinking for a moment, "He seemed...not quite himself last time we spoke, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to pry, but...this isn't like him even, even at the worst of times, and it came on so suddenly..."
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"Last night, he was... Distant. Strangely distant. He said he had a headache, kicked me out of his room. Andthis morning, he... He wouldn't talk to me and when I... I went to kiss him, he dodged it." Tony swallows thickly, now thinking he was an idiot for assuming Roddie was keeping something from him. Even if Roddie had been making decisions like that, he wouldn't have left without telling anyone like this.
"What's... Do you know what's happening to him?"
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"Come with me," he says, "And put this on." He grabs two gas masks from the rack in the hall, securing one over his own mouth and nose before heading down into the cargo bay. The box Roddie had retrieved for the client was sitting in the middle of the room, still unopened.
"Ajax," Zakeef says, keeping his voice steady, "Can you tell us what's inside of this box?"
Ajax pilots the hovering drone platform the crew had installed for him over to the box, and runs a beam of light over the box, scanning the contents, and the bulb on the top of his platform blinks as he processes the information.
"This storage unit contains several small, spherical metal objects, the purpose of which I cannot estimate without a clear visual scan."
The sick feeling in Zakeef's gut worsens, and before Ajax can finish the thought he's grabbed a crowbar off a nearby workbench and has begun to pry the crate open.
"Lieutenant Zakeef, the client indicated in the agreement that they were unwilling to pay for the crate if any signs of tampering or attempts to open it were detect-" Ajax begins, but Zakeef interrupts him sharply.
"Shut up and help me get this crate open, you useless machine!" he snaps, and Ajax quickly obliges, cutting through the steel locks with a laser fired from his drone much quicker than Zakeef could open it. Out of the crate spill several canisters, marked for hazardous materials, and as Zakeef picks up one of them to read the label he sees that it appears to have been punctured. His head is swimming as he sees a familiar chemical listed under the warning label, his worst fears confirmed. This was the substance that had caused his partner to lose his mind, back when the Golle had first deployed biological weapons against them. He had become increasingly paranoid, then violent, killing several members of Zakeef's family before dying by Zakeef's hands at his own behest.
"We have to find him," Zakeef almost shouts, setting the canister down and backing away from the open crate quickly, "This is one of the neurotoxins used in the genocide of my people. It turned us violent, made us kill one another, made us kill ourselves. He may have inhaled some of it from these damaged canisters, who knows how much is in his system. My partner...Nariah, this is what they gave him, this is what killed him. We have to --"
He rushes to a storage bin on the far side of the room, pulling out a large trunk and digging through it, pulling out a small vial of smelling salts as well as several tubes of differently colored liquid, a needle, and a package of bandages.
"We had no cures back then. Even now our remedies often fail. Can you track his cell phone? He may have abandoned it, but we can start there."
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"I didn't think... I knew he was acting strangely, but I never... Oh, God, is he gonna die?" Tony's shaking as he speaks, his imagination running away with him as he imagines Roddie, alone somewhere and suffering the effects of a lethal and horrible drug, "We have to find him, oh God," he says, starting to hyperventilate.
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He grabs two guns off a nearby shelf and loads them, then has a thought, and checks the place on the weapon rack where Roddie normally stowed his pistol.
"Damn it, he's taken his gun," Zakeef growls, then whips around fast.
"What are you waiting for? Track his damn phone!" he snaps, baring his teeth, "We might have prevented this if you had spoken up sooner about the state he was in! Why didn't you say something about this?!"
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"I'm sorry I'm not on high alert for rare and dangerous chemical poisoning!" he yells, advancing on Zakeef and poking him hard in the chest, "I'm sorry for what happened to you but screaming at me won't help anything, and it won't stop it from happening to Roddie!" He breathes out hard, glaring at Zakeef, and then grabbing the extra gun out of his hand, "You track the phone. I'm going to find him." He says, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.
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He taps away furiously at a datapad in his hands as he says this, locating Roddie's phone in an alleyway, within walking distance. It didn't appear to be moving, which wasn't a good sign.
"Found it. Ajax, call ahead and rent us a vehicle at the motor emporium down the street," he says, throwing his supplies into a bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He shoves a pistol into Tony's hands and walks ahead of him.
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"We should alert station security," he says after a moment, a little calmer, "They might be able to find him faster than we could."
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He walks faster, and Ajax alerts him just in time that he's secured them a hovering motorbike at the rental station. It's waiting outside when they arrive, and when Zakeef shows ID to the attendent they hand him the key fob. He climbs onto the bike and glares at Tony, jerking his head to indicate the seat behind him.
"Get on," he says, "You're navigating. Tell me where I'm going."
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Sighing, he gets on the bike, pulling up a map of the station and the location of Roddie's phone, giving Zakeef short and succinct directions.
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"Damn it," he swears, gritting his teeth, and his eyes start to fill with frustrated tears despite his best efforts to suppress them, "Damn it, Tony, he's not here, God...fucking damn it, kid, where are you? God, Spirits, I can't do this, this can't happen, not to him, I can't --"
Just as he starts wracking his brain for a solution, trying desperately to think of more places they could look for him, something that feels very much like the barrel of a pistol bumps him, lightly, on the back of his head. He freezes, his heart pounding with dread. He turns his head just enough to glimpse Roddie, standing behind him with a wide-eyed, terrified expression on his face, and what appeared to be a great amount of blood dripping from his wrist.
"Turn around! Don't look at me!" Roddie shouts, in a wavering voice, and Zakeef does as he's told.
"Roddie --" he says quietly, his eyes falling shut as he raises his hands.
"Don't call me that!" Roddie shouts again, pressing the gun harder into the back of Zakeef's head, "I knew it, I knew you were coming. I just knew. How did you find me here? I cut out the tracker, the one you planted in my arm, you didn't think I knew, did you? But I saw it, I found it."
"Roddie, for fuck's sake, it's me, it's Zakeef," he pleads, "Tony's here too, he's right here with me. You're sick, we're here to help--"
"Liar!" Roddie screams, tears streaming down his cheeks, "I remember you, from the labs, you wouldn't let the nurses give me anything to numb the pain! You said it was too important to document what hurt and what didn't to risk doing anything that might effect my senses. Are you here to take me back? Or just to retrieve your equipment?"
"Roddie," he says again, his voice trembling with emotion, but he hears the gun click, and squeezes his eyes shut tight.
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"Roddie!" he yells, trying to catch his attention, "Roddie, you've been exposed to some chemicals, that isn't who you think he is. That's Zakeef, you know him, you trust him." When Roddie doesn't immediately back up Tony pulls the pistol out of his belt where he'd stashed it, reluctantly raising it to point at Roddie. The last thing he wants to do is hurt him, but he knows killing Zakeef would hurt Roddie far more than any gunshot wound would.
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"Tony --" he hisses, his face contorting agony as Tony's words bounce off of him, "You're working with him? You...how did he get to you? How did he turn you against me? You --"
His expression turns enraged, and he shoves Zakeef down on his knees and holding the gun out at arms length, aiming at his head.
"Tony, you gotta believe me," he sobs, tears streaming from his eyes as he readies the gun, "I'm -- I'm ending this now. I'm ending this right now!"
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It's clear that Roddie's not going to stop, though, and a tear leaks out as Tony gives himself just a second to prepare. He has to shoot him, to stop him from doing something he'll regret, but that doesn't actually make this any easier. He squeezes the trigger moments before Roddie squeezes his, hitting his good shoulder and making him whip around and drop to the floor.
"Oh, God, Roddie!" he yells, rushing forward to check on him.
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"You!" Roddie spits, jerking wildly when Tony gets close to him in an attempt to lunge towards him even as he bleeds profusely, but Zakeef restrains him, pinning him against the ground with one hand and a knee as he prepares a needle and holds it between his teeth, "You were working with him the whole time, weren't you! That's what you came here to do, spy on me, that's all you've ever done, you never stopped working against me! I was stupid, so stupid, why did I ever trust someone like you!"
"For God's sake, Tony, help me hold him down!" Zakeef shouts, the needle falling from his mouth and clattering to the ground as Roddie struggles and elbows him in the face. He gets his grip on him again, with Tony's help, and grabs the needle off the ground, piercing the skin of Roddie's leg and administering the injection as quickly as he could.
"I should have known," he hisses, even as he slips quickly out of consciousness, "I should have --"
His eyes fall shut, and his body goes limp.
"Go to sleep, kid," Zakeef mumbles, breathing hard, his voice breaking with emotion. He shoves a roll of bandages into Tony's hands and avoids his eyes.
"I know this is rough, but keep up with me," he says, sternly, "I need you to treat the bullet wound. I'm going to give him everything I've got as far as remedies. Watch for signs of a seizure."
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He doesn't move until Zakeef calls for his attention, and then he rushes forward and helps. He nods to Zakeef's instructions, snfifling and wiping his nose before he takes the bandages. He tears open Roddie's shirt to get at the bullet wound and starts cleaning it to wrap it up, at least long enough for them to get him back to Ajax. He has to stop a couple of times to wipe at his eyes and nose, but he manages to keep focused.
When Roddie's cleaned up and received all of Zakeef's remedies he sits back on his knees, staring at Roddie with tears still streaming down his face.
"...Thank you," he says, still snuffling, "We should.. get him back to the ship."
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"Here," he says, once Tony is seated, "You hold him. I'll sit down, you lean him up against me, reach around him and hold onto me."
He sits Roddie's limp body onto the bike and leans him back gently into Tony's arms, before taking the driver's seat and driving carefully and slowly back to the ship. The ride is silent, and when they get back to the ship Vira and Boscha are huddled together outside, looking fearful. They both stand up straight when the three of them pull up, and rush forward to greet them.
"There you all are! What's going on?" Vira asks, her voice panicked, "Ajax said there was something wrong with Roddie, something about being exposed to neurotoxins, is he -- you three are all...covered in blood, and -- oh, gods, is he --"
"He's not dead," Zakeef interrupts grimly, "But he's not all right yet. I don't know how his condition is going to progress, I need to get him into our med bay and continue treating him. I'll explain later. Stay out of the cargo bay, for now.
"That's all you're going to give us?!" Boscha cries out angrily, "Roddie disappears, you two run after him without telling us where the hell you're going, and now --"
"I'm sorry!" Zakeef shouts back, pulling at the roots of his hair with both hands and turning his head down.
"I'm sorry," he says again, softer this time turning his face up to glance between all of them, his eyes lingering on Tony the longest before his expression breaks into one of deep grief, and he lets out a brief, overwhelmed sob. Boscha closes her mouth, her expression softening, and she steps forward, lifting Roddie gingerly in her arms. When Zakeef looks at her again she just nods, and he returns it, wiping at his face with his hand before gesturing for Tony to follow him back onto the ship.
"Right there is fine," he says gruffly, pointing to one of the hospital beds, and Boscha gently lies him down on his back, making sure his head rests on the pillow. She pauses a moment before leaving the room, squeezing Zakeef's shoulder, then Tony's, and makes her exit.
Pulling up a nearby chair, Zakeef sits, and heaves a heavy, shaky sigh into his hands before resting his face in them. He sits silently for a long moment, then scrubs his hands over his face again.
"The toxins didn't kill my partner," he says, speaking in a steady, dead-sounding monotone, "I killed him."
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"I'm sorry," he says quietly, keeping his eyes on Roddie, "Just... hurting him was hard enough, I can't imagine... I'm sorry."
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He makes an attempt to look over at Tony, but can't, looking instead at the floor near his shoes.
"Don't beat yourself up over anything he said to you," he says, "It wasn't him. It took me more than a decade to stop blaming myself, for everything. I'd only just begun to forgive myself for what I'd done. That's why I can't --"
He tears his eyes away and shakes his head, his expression tensing again.
"...Can't do it again. He's one of the last people left that I love in this shithole of a galaxy -- so are you -- and if I had to -- or if you had to do what I did, I couldn't..."
He breathes a hard, heavy sigh and leans forward into his hands.
"I'm sorry I blamed you before. I didn't mean it. I was trying to...no. I won't give an excuse. It wasn't right, no matter what happens from here on out, you aren't at fault. I'm sorry."
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"It's all right," he says, taking a deep breath and wiping at his nose, "I'm sorry I didn't... Realize you were upset too." He looks over at Zakeef, making a slight face at the sorrow on Zakeef's face.
"Do you, um, want a hug or something?" Tony asks, wincing at how awkward that sounds.
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Instead, he watches Roddie in silence, waiting for signs of consciousness, and when his closed eyes start to flutter he stands up from his chair.
"Get ready to restrain him," he says, reaching for a pair of latex gloves and snapping them on, "I have smelling salts that should make him more lucid, but I can't guarantee anything."
Roddie's eyes open, slowly at first, and he mumbles something vague before they snap wide open. He starts struggling and grunting, weakly, the effects of the sedative not quite out of his system.
"It's all right, Roddie," Zakeef tries to assure him gently, but Roddie's blinking becomes more rapid, and drool runs down his cheek as his body begins to convulse.
"Damn it, he's having a seizure, get him on his side!" Zakeef barks, though his aggression is clearly not directed at Tony this time.
"Is he breathing? He's breathing, all right," he says, popping open the jar of smelling salts and holding them up to Roddie's nose. Gradually, his shaking subsides, and he lets out a gagging cough before going limp onto the bed. His eyes crack half open, and his expression is distant, looking right through Tony's chest, but after a moment, he seems to gain some awareness of his surroundings.
"Tony," he mutters, though he's still staring through him.
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"Hey, baby," Tony says, his voice shaking, and he reaches out to gently stroke Roddie's face, "I'm here, how do you feel? Do you need anything?"
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"He still has a high concentration of the poison in his blood," he says, "But it appears our efforts to counteract its effects are...succeeding, much more quickly than they would have on a Torak, as well, since the toxins were not engineered for your specific biology. We'll have to keep him at least partially sedated for a day or so, and continue to administer the smelling salts as needed. He may...begin to come around soon."
He lets out a long, shaking sigh of relief, leaning heavily on the counter.
"You are more qualified than I am to administer medical care to him, so I will leave you with him for now. Let me know if you need any help, I'm...going to properly dispose of our cargo. I'm also very tired."
He hesitates, then, as he's skulking out of the room, he lets his hand brush across Tony's back as he passes him and squeezes at his shoulder.
"Get some rest," he mutters, not looking back as he makes his exit, "He'll be all right for now."
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He gets Roddie hooked up to a monitoring machine, to monitor the amount of poison still in his system, and then settles back to watch him.
A couple of hours in Tony manages to let himself lean his arms on Roddie's bed and rest his head on his arms, but he's nowhere close to being asleep, just too exhausted to keep his head up.
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"Tony," he says, mostly to process to himself who the person in front of him was. His voice is sleepy, and shaky, and he struggles to keep his eyes open.
"What time is it?" is the first question he has the sense to ask as he rubs confusedly at his head with his prosthetic arm, finding the other one strangely sore and difficult to move.
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"It's, um," Tony has to pause and check, as he has no idea, "It's almost nine. PM. You've... been asleep for a while. How do you feel? Do you need anything?" Tony reaches out to wrap his hands around Roddie's hand again, holding it tightly, and he swallows thickly before asking his next question.
"Do you... remember what happened?"
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"Did...something happen?" he asks hesitantly, stroking his thumb over Tony's hand, "I don't...remember what's been real and what was a dream."
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Tony takes a deep, shaking breath, honestly a little relieved that Roddie doesn't remember.
"You... The box we picked up, it was full of these... chemicals. Biological warfare, the ones used on the Torak. You... were exposed to one. It caused paranoia and hallucinations," Tony tries to keep his voice as clinical and detached as he can, but it shakes anyways, "When we docked at the station you ran off, me and Zakeef had to track you down."
He pauses, wondering if he should go into further detail, but then he realizes he can't cover up the bullet wound in Roddie's shoulder.
"You... Thought Zakeef was someone else. I had to shoot you so you wouldn't hurt him," Tony gets choked up as he speaks, tears gathering in his eyes again.
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"I...remember, I think," he says, his voice heavy with guilt, "I...Jesus."
He sits there for a few minutes, feeling the blood thumping in his ears as panic makes his veins run cold.
"Did I heart anyone?" he asks, dreading the response, "I'm...I...there's...no apology that could possibly..."
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"Hey, hey, it's all right," Tony says, reaching up to pull Roddie's organic hand down from his face and hold it again, "Nobody got hurt except you. And it wasn't your fault, you were drugged." He rubs his hand over Roddie's, his voice cracking.
"I'm sorry, Roddie, God, I couldn't... I noticed you acting strangely but I didn't say anything, and I... I hurt you." Tony sobs, leaning down to press his forehead against Roddie's hand.
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"No, no, Tony, please," he chokes, his voice coming out blubbery, "You didn't know, you couldn't, y-you know I would have wanted you to stop me, please."
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Tony gets up, putting one knee on the bed and leaning over Roddie to hug him, being careful of his shoulder.
"I'm not sorry I stopped you, I'm just sorry I hurt you," He says, pressing his face against Roddie's cheek, "God, Roddie, I'm so glad you're all right." His breath hitches and he peppers Roddie's face with kisses.
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"I'm sorry," he mumbles again into Tony's hair as he wipes away the wetness that was still accumulating on his face, "I'm really sorry, I-I can't...believe I...is Zakeef all right?"
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Tony nods against Roddie's throat, swallowing and wiping at his face.
"Yeah, he's fine. He was... Pretty upset about the whole thing. He'd... been through this before. He... said he loves you. And me," He looks up at Roddie, smiling faintly.
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His smile fades quickly, as he thinks about how scared Zakeef must have been to say something like that, and how going through all this again must have taken a toll on him, and it takes him a few moments before he can relax the tensed muscles in his neck and shoulders. He was too exhausted to do anything about it, now, bur the guilt weighed on him heavily.
"I'll...God, I don't...know what I'm going to say to him," he says, swallowing a lump in his throat.
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"It's all right, Roddie," Tony says, rubbing his neck and chest, "He understands. He doesn't blame you, because it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known, you were drugged." He sighs, leaning in to kiss Roddie's lips, sensing that he's upset.
"Try to relax. You still have a lot of poison in your system," He says, running his hand up through Roddie's hair.
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