Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 16

Of his friends, threatened and attacked and hurt, all just to see Sander squirm. All to make him angry.

Mission fucking accomplished.

His free hand curled into a fist and swung out, unbidden. There was a satisfyingly meaty thud as it connected, but maddeningly, Walker didn't even react. His face had turned with the blow, eyes now staring straight ahead in a different direction, but that was the extent of the change. It didn't exactly make Sander feel better, and frankly he doubted it did so for anyone else, either.

'What happened to him?' He said flatly.

'Dulcimer said his mind's been burnt out,' Lysithea answered. 'She flooded his consciousness with everything we had, basically one big telepathic bitch slap. Jericho's brain scans confirmed it, he's brain dead.'

'Didn't I get the same treatment?' Sander asked. 'Why aren't I... like that?'

'You'd have to ask Dulsie herself, but I think the idea is that you were only the focusing node, like a relay station for the telepathic signal. So yes, you got bits and pieces, possibly flashes of memory, but you were really only the messenger. Walker got the full treatment, and it erased his entire personality.'

'Good riddance,' Mara said soberly.

'Did you...' Sander trailed off momentarily, as his mind alighted on a particular phrase Lysithea had used. 'Did we all get pieces of each other's memories? Or was I the only one to see all that?'

'I saw it,' Mara answered immediately.

'Yes, we all did. It's an unfortunate side effect of the process,' Lysithea nodded.

'I think we need to call a team meeting,' Sander sighed. 'I get the feeling this is something we need to get on top of. As well as how to deal with him.'

He looked down at Walker, watching the shell of the man stare back at him, emotionless and pale. There was nothing behind those eyes now, and it disturbed him utterly. He found it hard to concentrate in Walker's presence, and a part of his mind had been working to figure out why that was. He knew, now; this creature was an empty shell, a being with human form that lacked any kind of human qualities or emotion. Sander understood madness better than most, and what truly unsettled him about Walker now was...

His exterior finally matched what Sander had always imagined his mind to be like.

*************

'Okay...' Sander sighed, casting his eyes around the room. His crew- those of them that were able to stand, at least- had gathered by the cell hub. Despite all the evidence he had received so far, he was unwilling to let Walker completely out of his sight, and so his crew had arrayed themselves around the room while simultaneously giving the murderer's cell door a wide berth.

'So, we've had a tough couple of days, huh?' He said, though honestly he knew it wasn't the right thing to say. Then again, the actual right thing completely eluded him; in all likelihood, there was no right thing that could be said here. It wasn't every day that armed strangers tried to kill him; he could actively see it freaking the hell out of every one of his crew.

'That's putting it lightly,' The snark was clearly felt in Dulcimer's message, as the Dullahan herself folded her arms over her chest. She was turned away from the rest of the group, which had always presented a unique challenge to Sander's mind; she didn't have a face, so it wasn't like she was deliberately avoiding eye contact. Her range of vision was so much wider than his own, it was entirely possible she was just sitting in a way that was comfortable, and he was imposing his own, human-centric notion of etiquette onto what was for her a perfectly acceptable position. 'Sander, I'd like it if you didn't put me in a position where I'm forced to enter the mind of a blatant psychopath, in future. It makes me feel unclean.'

'It's not exactly something I was crazy about either, Dulsie,' He said, wondering what it was that was making him so defensive. He kept telling himself, it only felt like it was his fault...

'But he was here for you, boss,' Tsugi seemed to have calmed down a little from his earlier stress, but his discomfort and anger was still evident. 'How many more knife wielding crazy assholes will we be seeing? If I remember my history, you made a lot of enemies when you were out and about, Sander.'

'I've already got Jericho on that,' Sander said quickly, perhaps a little sharper than he had wanted. 'Tracking down the rumors Walker spread that I'm still alive and counteracting them in any way he can. At the end of the day he's a clever little program, we all know he'll come through for us. I'll be dead again soon.'

'But why did he even come here?' Lysithea asked. As one, Sander, Mara and Ren swung around to stare at the Trine-form. It was easy to forget that, of all of them, Lysithea was the individual least connected to Walker. His motivations, as insane and incomprehensible as they were, would be completely inaccessible to her.

'He came here for me, or at least, that's what he used as justification,' Sander said, shifting his weight uncomfortably. 'But in the end, he just likes making people suffer. Walker Ichihara... we did a good thing by taking him out of the world. He fixated on me-'

'He wanted to see how you looked when you were angry. What you were like when you're in pain,' Ren said abruptly. 'It's the same thing he did to me. He saw my suit, saw something he found interesting, and went out of his way to see it burn.'

'He fixates on people,' Mara added. 'Even when we were together, he used to fixate. You could see it happening, if you paid attention. Het get a guy in his sights, and then... that was all he'd care about.'

'Sounds like someone I know,' Tsugi said with understated venom, throwing a significant look at Sander.

'Yeah, you'd think I'd learn from that,' He snapped back.

'Alright, stop that, children,' Mara hissed. 'Yes, we did just get attacked by a very crazy murderer and his cadre of gun-toting, revenge-obsessed mercenaries. That happened. I was there. But we all know it wasn't exactly Sander's fault that that happened. It kind of was, but who the fuck accounts for this kind of shit when they do things? It wasn't exactly predictable, now was it?'

'I was taken by surprise, yes,' Lysithea nodded. 'It was very surprising.'

'Well, it's over now. And who was it that fought for us, there?'

Ren raised her hand. Tsugi pointed to Ren. Even Sander threw up his hands and shook his head in Mara's direction, as if to say "not getting involved in this one. Not one bit."

'Well, fine!' Mara sighed, giving everyone else in the room the finger in quick succession. 'Be that way. But Sander still took Walker down, in the end. Remember that.'

'Actually...' Dulcimer began, her mental "voice" sounding a little reluctant to be bringing this up. 'We all did. Which wasn't the best solution to the problem, I know. But it was the best I had available at the time...'

There was a distinct tone of insincerity there, and not for the first time Sander wondered about the nature of telepathic projection; was Dulcimer even capable of hiding a lie from others, if every last thing she communicated to others spilled directly from her mind into theirs? How must it be, living in that brain of hers, knowing that to reach out and speak to another was to link them directly into her consciousness? How did she trust anyone?

'Yeah, we do need to talk about that one,' Sander said, taking a step forward. 'Look, it's probably obvious to all of you by now that what we experienced when Dulcimer linked us all together were fragments of each other's memories, out of context and jumbled around, but nevertheless... memories.'

There was silence, and it was uncomfortable. Sander got the sense that- and this was certainly what he himself was doing- his crew was wondering precisely what memory of theirs everyone else had been privy to. What did they know? How much of it did they understand? What did they think of what they had seen? Was it even worth asking?

'Listen guys, we've known each other for the better part of three years now, we've lived together, worked together... whatever trouble's going to be dumped on us because of what we're doing now, you'd better believe we'll be suffering it equally,' Sander looked around the room darkly, feeling the discomfort practically radiating from his friends. 'So I'm pretty comfortable in saying that I've got a lot of faith in us as a unit. We're all in this together, we all have exactly the same amount of dirt on the others as they have on us, so I'm confident that together, together, people... we can never talk about what we saw. Ever.'

'What?' Ren laughed, and Sander was grateful for even that slight break in the tension of the room. He saw smiles, small and weak but undeniably there, spread on the faces of his crew, and he felt himself relax a little in turn. Finally, a bit of levity...

'Look, I sure as shit don't need to know about all your dirty laundry, folks. In much the same way as I doubt you'll want to hear about mine,' He felt himself smiling, wondering all the way whether or not it was the appropriate expression. 'If you wanted to talk about it... well, it's not like any of us are particularly shy about expressing what we want.'

'He means we're all loud, rude fuckers,' Ren supplied helpfully.

'Yes, that,' Sander pointed and nodded. 'Good one. What I'm saying is... don't bother sharing. None of us consented to having our memories shared out like fucking Halloween candy, we sure as hell don't want to be questioning the people around us now. Let it go, guys. If you really want to talk about it, then make sure the person you spill to wants that too. And for god's sake, don't come to me, because I really don't give a fuck.'

'Ah, that's my man...' Mara added sagely, grinning.

'Oh, actually,' He snapped his fingers. 'I do care about one little thing. Ren, your weird... suit-ey... armor thing. Is it dangerous? To us, I mean?'

'Only if I let it...' Ren grinned dangerously, causing the skin to crawl on the back of Sander's neck. 'You betcha it's dangerous.'

'Alright then...' He squeaked. 'Now, the other thing we need to discuss... What do we do with Walker, guys?'

'Kill him,' Most of the crew said immediately, displaying the true dangers of group thinking. Problem was, Sander couldn't really produce a reason for why they shouldn't do that.

'Who cares?' Ren said flatly, turning away.

'Ren, you threaten to kill me when I use the last of the milk,' Tsugi said. 'What gives?'

'Look, he's brain dead already, right?' She sighed, frowning deeply. 'Surprisingly, murder is only a means to an end, and my end there was to see him suffer. I was gonna draw it out, watch him squirm a little... Kind of pointless since we snapped his mind like a fuckin' twig.'

'That is... Utterly distressing,' Lysithea said. 'Why not simply airlock him? After all, it's not as if there's any point to keeping him alive, and besides, I don't want to risk the effect wearing off and him coming back into himself.'

'She's got a point,' Mara shrugged. 'A cold, mercenary point, but a point nonetheless. Jericho!'

'Yes, Mara?' The Smart A.I's hologram flickered to life like a starburst in the center of the room. 'How may I assist?'

'We need to dump a body.'

'Yes, I was listening. I shall guide... that thing to an emergency pod and launch it forthwith,' Jerry shifted his non-existent weight a little, looking deeply uncomfortable. 'Addendum: I have completed my diagnosis of Miss Kanaria.'

'What's the news, Doc?' Sander leaned forward a little, heart racing. He didn't know what he would do if...

'The news is... Mixed,' The hologram said. 'She will live, and in fact is entirely stable. There is no reason why she could not wake up within the hour. However, in the process of slitting her throat, Walker completely severed her vocal chords. There is no way to repair this. Miss Kanaria will not speak again. I am sorry.'

For a moment, Jericho looked to be the saddest person in the room, before he flickered and faded away. The more physically present members of the crew sat in silence, unwilling to look Ren or Mara in the eye. There is nothing more potent than shared guilt, in its ability to burn away any hope of a coherent conversation.

'No,' Sander said simply, shaking his head and practically launching himself at the far door. 'Jericho, meet me in my office. I want the schematics for the nanomed patches, a medical guide to the human trachea, and my access directory to my old Hackett Industries prototypes loaded up by the time I get there. Go!'

'Sander, what are you doing now?' Ren growled. 'Haven't you done enough?'

'Ren, go and warm up the manufacturing center. I'll try not to be too long,' It wasn't a happy smile on Sander's face, but an oddly contented one; the kind people get when the path ahead finally becomes clear. 'Tsugi, I'll need you to double check my figures when they come through. I'm not going to discount the fact that I might be an idiot, just because I'm determined.' He was practically skipping out the door, turning back only at the last second, 'And to answer your next question, yes. I'm going to make Kanaria a new voice. Because she doesn't deserve this. Because she shouldn't suffer for a petty feud between myself and Walker. And because fuck it, I'm Sander Hackett.'

*******

It had gotten to the point where Amy was actually surprised to see her cell door opening. Granted, clearly something had gone on over the past few days; those mystery men with the guns were easily proof of that, but it still seemed all kinds of ridiculous that nobody had come to check up on her since then. She dreaded to think what might have happened if Jericho hadn't been around to look after her; she might have starved.

So, though she was naturally wary of Sander's presence in her doorway, it was human contact, which was something. The way he slumped into the room, eyes heavy lidded, was... certainly new.

'Amy...' He whined childishly, waving his arms in an ineffectual manner. 'I'm tired and victorious. Come over here...'

She eyed him carefully, but pointedly did not move from her spot on the bed. It might have been a tad childish herself, but a part of her was more irritated at being kept out of the loop than at becoming his sex toy again. Frankly, this kind of cognitive dissonance had become so commonplace for her that she barely even noticed it anymore; it was merely another facet of being forced to exist in this surreal no-place where all she was expected to do was... well...

'I'm not going over there,' She said petulantly, figuring the least she could do to safeguard her virtue was make this hard on him. He gave a small frown, which she counted as an equally small victory.

With exaggerated, limp-jointed motions, he made his way over to the bed in much the same way Amy would imagine a stroke victim might, or some kind of rubber-band golem. Somehow, this was worse than the serious-minded, angry Sander she had encountered in the past; at least then he was some kind of predictable. She knew what she was up against there. This was something new.

'Okay Amy, I don't want any snarking, or any bitching... I don't want to have to use the Collar,' He paused, took a breath and leaned back. 'I just want something fucking easy. I just want a whore. And here you are. Strip'

'No,' She snapped back, defensively pulling her long limbs up to her chest. 'No way in hell. You leave me in here for days, you get me attacked by soldiers, almost raped... by strangers, anyway, and for what? You can't just come swanning back in here after all that and expect to get your way!'

'Actually, I totally can,' Sander prodded the collar ringing her neck. 'Command Collar, remember? But I already said I didn't feel like using it, so why not be a good little girl and spread your legs so we can get this show on the road? Don't worry, I'm not a cuddler, I promise.'

She resisted the urge to stand, knowing that was the first step into escalating a physical confrontation she could not win, 'Fuck you, Sander! I'm not going to just play along because you tell me to! Not anymore! I could have died! Christina could have died! I'd wager that we all could have died, and that includes your friends too! When are you going to realize what a bad idea all this is?'

'I won, Amy. They took me by surprise... I still won.'

'Here's the thing,' She said darkly. 'You need to keep winning. The Doctor only needs to beat you once. And are those bandages I see?' She took the risk of prodding his chest, actually smiling as he winced away from her touch. 'You've been hurt. Doesn't bode well.'

Bad idea, bad idea... She knew it was a bad idea to antagonise him, but she was flying. Soaring on wings of pure audacity. She'd had a gun held to her head the last time she'd experienced human contact... What could Sander really do?

'Want to know how that feels?' Sander growled.

Amy felt herself going a tad paler, but regrouped quickly; honestly, what could he do to her that would be worse than what he was already planning to do?

'I got hurt,' Sander continued, backing off and sounding a bit bleak. 'I got stabbed. Three times. I'm a little surprised at the glee there, Amy. I thought you were the good guy here.'

'That only goes so far. About as far as getting kidnapped, I think,' She replied. 'Also, I somehow doubt that you were the only one that got hurt out there, since there are seven of you bastards, and I haven't seen a single one of you for days. Is that true?'

'Yes.'

'And you can't see how that's your fault?' Her mouth fell into a frown. Part of her, admittedly, was concerned, wondering who had gotten hurt, and if they were okay. But the rest of her was furious at Sander; he had engineered this entire plan, and now people were dying. She had seen what Ren had done to those soldiers, and it was the kind of thing that stuck with her. Some nights, she could even still see the faces of the clerics that had been set to guard her in the ruins of the Byzantium; men who'd undoubtedly had families that would never see them again, never even remember them, in no small part because she'd looked that damn Angel in the eye.

'All of this is your fucking fault, and you're too wrapped up in your head to even notice!' Her Scottish accented tones filled with a soft, melancholy anger as her hands balled into useless fists. She couldn't even hit him, try to shake him out of it, 'Every last bit, because you set these pins up to be knocked down. Who was it? Tsugi? Lysithea? Mara? Are they even still alive? Do you even care? Or is getting to the Doctor by making me suffer that much more important to you?'

It was a terrible idea, she could see the hurt, wrathful fire building behind his eyes, but she couldn't stop. She was tumbling downhill with nothing and nobody to stop her; all the anger, all the hurt and frustration and guilt that had built up in her over everything was coming out all at once.

'And it's not just this time, that's the worst thing! It's not just yourself you're hurting, which would be bad enough, and it's not just whichever poor sod got in the crossfire this time...' Oh god, was she really going to say it? 'It's everything. That's the saddest part, it's this whole thing. You're taking it out on me, trying to take it out on the Doctor, but that's just a way to distract yourself from the truth. What happened to you on Vesperia was your fault. It wasn't the Doctor. You did it to yourself, but the worst part, the thing that really gets me, is that now you're doing it to me, you're doing it to Christina, and you did it to Elsa-'