Mad Dog and the Dream Ch. 03

The Doctor gently sidestepped as the body tapped his shoulder on its way to the ground. He had barely reacted at all, although Ron could see a twinkle light up his beady eyes. Ron himself had jerked in surprise at the first shot, and had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth. He stared up at Andro.

Andro, ignoring him, glanced at Maddy, who let out one more terrified scream. He then turned to look at the Doctor, eyebrows raised in an unspoken question.

The Doctor smiled. "It's very good," he said. His Far East accent was so thick that he gave a short perfunctory pause between every word, as though each were its own sentence. "Yes. Always creative. And now you will wish for control."

Andro shook his head. "I won't. My dream isn't over, yet." He turned to Ron. "But his is, I think." He bent down, and offered the shocked man the weapon. "We are down to our last bullet, Ron. And I very much look forward to your decision." He said it calmly, gently. His eyes searched Ron's face with bald curiosity. "Even if it's me."

Ron looked at the offered gun, and then up at the tall man's calm gaze. "No," he said. "Not now."

"Oh, yes, my friend," Andro said. "It's time to wake up." He set the gun down on the ground next to Ron's hand, and stood up. "It's a long time we've been chewing on the crust of this planet. So much has been said, and so much has been done." He looked at the symbols of excess around them, the pool and the large house, and shook his head. "But what does it all mean? Can you tell me that?"

"No," Ron said lamely. But his fingers reached out and curled around the gun.

Andro returned his eyes to Ron's face, his expression becoming pleading. "What does it all mean?" He asked again, his voice so earnest that Ron knew he meant it. He genuinely hoped Ron would be able to answer his question.

He had been right about Andro: he would be left standing at the end of all things. But he had been wrong about the question the tall man would hurl up at the heavens with his last breath. And know Ron knew what that question would be.

"What does it all mean?"

"I don't know," he said. But, after a moment, he pushed himself up and climbed to his feet.

Andro's voice rose up in volume, becoming loud without yelling. "Please, Ron! I've been waiting! I've waited for so long! Tell me what it all means! I want to know!"

"It doesn't mean anything," Ron said numbly. "And it never did."

"You're wrong!" Andro barked. "It did once! It meant something! It mattered! What changed?"

Ron stared blankly at him. Then his brow twitched. He looked at Maddy. "Nothing. Nothing changed. It was always like this. This idea that you can put your faith in each other, that human emotion is mean to draw us together rather than apart...that people are basically good...it's a lie."

"It's not a lie, Ron. Think! What is it really?"

Ron swallowed hard, his gaze lingering on his sobbing wife, and turned back to look at Andro. "It's not a lie. It's a dream."

Andro nodded, his head rocking madly on its axis. "Wake up, Ron," he said.

Ron's eye twitched again. "I don't want to."

"You need to wake up."

"No." He looked at the gun. "Maybe it is a dream. But I want it. It's a good dream. And I want to believe that I can find someone, someday, who I can put that kind of faith in again. I want someone to have that faith in me."

Andro bared his teeth. "Wake up, Ron!" His eyes were wild, now. He was breathing through his mouth.

"Why?" Ron waved his hands out wide before him. "Is it so bad? If this is the dream, then what's wrong with that? Even if it is like a drug, or a destructive habit, is the harm that great? Is it so wrong, at the end of the day, to think that love...just love...is enough?" He looked down at Piero's sprawled figure. Dark red matter, mucusy and thick, pooled around the dead man's head. "If you don't have that to believe in, what's left to have?"

"Reality! Reality is left to have, and it's better than any dream could ever be! It's better because you know that it's true." Andro held up his hands beseechingly. "Wake up! For god's sake, wake up so you can teach me what it all means!" Shouting now, Andro wiped at his wet lips. He was panting.

Ron looked at him for a long time, and then down at the gun. "What it all means?" he said quietly to himself. "Will I really know?"

"Wake up."

He turned, and looked down at Maddy.

"Ron," she said between gasping breaths. "Please..." Her eyes were wide with terror.

"There it is, Ron," Andro growled. "You took all of your faith, and you put it right there." He pointed at the terrified woman. "It has to go."

"It's not her fault," he whispered.

"Fault?" Andro howled. "Fault? You think this is about blame?! That's the dream talking! That's not you. Wake up!" He rocked on his heels, growling wordlessly.

Maddy was convulsing in horror. "Oh god, please," she said under her breath.

Ron stared passively at her, his face becoming expressionless and peaceful. "Oh god," he nodded, "please."

Then he brought the gun up and fired.

The bullet took her near the center of her chest, and she spent some time coughing and convulsing on the ground before going still. They watched her go, each for their own reasons, none of them speaking or acknowledging the others. And when it was over and everyone calm, Andro turned to Ron.

"They'll want me to take Piero's place," he admitted. "But I think you know I can't do that."

Ron nodded. "Still, I'll need you with me."

"You don't need anybody, now. That's the point." He let a deep breath in and out. "But I need you. You have to teach me-"

"What it all means." Ron bit his lip, and thought a moment. "How many bullets are there, really?"

"In that clip? Two more."

He nodded again. "Maybe I don't need anyone," he handed the weapon over to Andro, "but you're coming with me anyways. Both of you." He handed the gun back over to Andro, and walked out of the dream.