gingerspeedster | Twenty First Race

Twenty First Race

[ Warden Filter ]

I'm curious. How many of you have kids back home? Or had someone to take care of, anything like that. I'm in a bit of a unique situation because when I first came here I wasn't even in a relationship, and now I'm married with kids, but I think it's done a lot towards helping my inmate. I'm not saying we should treat our inmates like they're our kids, but it's something to think about.

[ Private to David ]

Still grounded, kiddo?

[ Private to Drake ]

I was looking back over our old conversations, and I'd completely forgotten about that assignment I gave you. Made many friends yet?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You always have a choice. And you're making the right one.

It's not a choice. It's do what he says or I get small and furry again.

It's a crappy choice, but it's still a choice. And it's your choices that got you here.

Oh, great. Now you're giving me the oh-how-wrong-you-were speech. You don't understand. Nobody does.

I'll be honest with you, kid. I don't know why you did what you did and I don't get it. It's not in my programming. All I'm saying is that you had a choice, and the choice you made brought you here, to this point. It can't have been a very good choice if you're miserable with where you are.

That's just it, I didn't have a choice, any more than I've got one now. What was I supposed to do, let myself get bossed around forever? Sleep in a barn forever? Let them all look down at me and insult me while I risked getting killed for them? I don't care who tries to guilt me into thinking I was wrong, you, Bourne, whoever. It was the only choice I could make, and if I had to go back, I'd still do the same stuff. I'd just go after them sooner.

That's the thing, David. You did have a choice. You always have a choice. There may not be any good choice, or any right choice, but there always is one. Whether or not I agree with your choice doesn't matter. It's not my choice, it's yours. If you're happy with it, then fine. But you don't seem happy to me.

It doesn't matter if I was happy with it. It was what I had to do. Nobody gets that! I'm miserable because I'm stuck here with a warden who can turn me into a rat whenever he fucking wants to and stalks me wherever I go! A guy who's taken everything from me, and the one time I take something from him, I get stomped into the ground. That's bullshit, and I don't care if he's got a right to do it or whatever as a warden, it's still bullshit.

You're right, it is. Neither of you should be taking anything from the other. He's supposed to be helping you, and you're miserable, and that's not fair. But all you've got now are the choices in front of you. All you can do is try to make them count.

Why do you care about convincing me? You know I can't do anything to him. I couldn't even if I wanted to. He's got me right where he wants me, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. So what's this, trying to get me to feel better about it?

I know you don't want to hear this, but you're just a teenager. You've been through a lot since you've been here, and that's not even considering whatever you went through to get here. I want you to be able to graduate and grow up like kids are supposed to, not stuck here.

You might as well be talking to the Admiral or Bourne then, not me. They decide when I 'graduate'. And since Bourne's last inmate did nothing but help him and is still here... well, let's just say I don't expect to get home that way anytime soon.

They may decide when you're ready, but you decide how to prove it to them.

So I've just gotta 'prove myself' to the guy who turned me into a rat, a guy who I know has killed lots more people than I ever did, a guy who invades my privacy and knows everything about me but doesn't even tell me how old he is. That about sum it up?

Pretty much. Bum rap, huh?

Yeah, that's one way to put it.

Those are your choices. You can fight it tooth and nail and hope maybe someday the Admiral gets bored with you, or you can fight for your freedom and prove that what people think about you is wrong.

What's the difference? I've been fighting for my freedom. I haven't been doing it just to screw with Bourne. Besides, my powers are gone. I can't fight at all now, all I can do is just go along with whatever he tells me to do.

You could try talking to him as a peer, and not like he's your slave-driver.

'Peer' would mean we're equals. We're not. He has all the power.

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gingerspeedster.livejournal.com - 2011-07-14 22:25 (UTC) - Expand

[Public]

sixthanimorph.livejournal.com - 2011-07-14 22:36 (UTC) - Expand

Basically.

[Yes, David. He's watching you. And he snaps his fingers as if he's just remembered something.]

I figured it out. I realized why you bother me.

You're arrogant.

You're arrogant, and you have this sense of entitlement, and expect the entire world to just open up to you because of all the shit you've been through - and it has been shit. Well, guess what. It doesn't work that way.

And the worst part is, the easiest way to learn and get what you want is open to you, but you never take it. You never ask.

You never ask. You. Never. Ask. You steal, manipulate, kidnap, and torture, but you never ask.

You want to know how old I am? Ask me. You want to know how many people I've killed? Ask me. You want to know where I'm from, what my life is like, why I'm here instead of somewhere I'd actually prefer to be?

Fucking ask me.

Contrary to what you may think about me, I am not a mind-reader. I can't tell the future. And maybe if I'd known you were gonna be my inmate, I wouldn't have put you into a wall the first time we met. Because that made me an enemy in your eyes, I think. And you haven't let me out of the enemy column enough to realize that even if you don't like me and even if I'm frankly not thrilled to warden you, I am here to help you. If you have a problem - especially a problem with me - you let me know so I can fix it, goddamn it!

[Wow, he actually looks angry.]

[Well. He wasn't expecting that. And this is about the most Bourne's ever said to him ever. For a moment there's just silence on his end.]

[Really, it's more the anger in Bourne's words that makes him hesitate, more than the words themselves. The last time Bourne was angry with him, it ended with him getting throttled. There's a strong part of him that wants to shut off the communicator now while he's ahead, because this can't possibly end well.]

[But he can't pass this up. There's a lot of stuff he's been wanting to say, and Bourne finally gave him the means to say it.]

You're here to help me? That's fucking news to me. How're you helping me? By stalking me? Taking away my powers? Turning me into a rat?

What're you, pissed because how I feel isn't something you can look up in your fucking file? You sit there and call me arrogant for not just asking you shit, but when did you ever have to ask me anything? You didn't, you just got a file handed to you that let you know every fucking thing about me.

That's why I don't ask.

You know, if I don't like you, and you don't like me, why don't you just send me home already? You only wanna 'help me' because there's something in it for you. It's not like you fucking give a shit, hell, Rex probably gives more of a shit than you do. If you've just been waiting until I concede defeat, then fine, you win. Happy now?

[The angry response is not entirely unexpected. And at least it's something.]

Stalking you, or trying to keep you from falling in with the wrong crowd? The crowd Crayak would want to see you fall into, and fail again and again to get out of the trap you've made for yourself? But no. You're the victim. I'm stalking you, not looking out for you. Everything I do is to hurt you.

[The sarcasm in the last few sentences is so thick it could be cut with a particularly sharp knife.]

I took away your powers because you obviously can't be trusted to use them correctly. You use them to manipulate. To torture. To weasel around and get what you want, working for your benefit alone and fuck everyone else.

And you turned yourself into a rat. That's on you. Been on you for a while. You've been a rat since before they made you into one. Manipulative. Again.

Do you even know what's in your file? If you would have asked me to see it I would have given it to you. Or ask Slade. I gave him his because he asked for it.

[And then, at David's last indignant, whining paragraph, he snaps. And yells.]

Sending you 'home' would be putting you right where that Crayak motherfucker wants you! You don't get it! You just don't get it, do you?! Unless you graduate, you don't get to go home!

[He looks weary then, and sighs, shaking his head. Suddenly he looks his age.]

If I could fix what's already happened in your life, I would. It's shit. It's something nobody should have to go through, let alone a kid who isn't even old enough to learn to drive. But I can't. Can't time-travel, can't read minds, can't predict the future. If I could, I wouldn't be here. Would have stopped a lot of dumb, useless shit right in its tracks. Would have saved a lot of good people. Would have talked myself out of the path I ended up on.

[He shakes his head again, irritated with himself and a little flummoxed that he's been speaking so freely. This is about the most he's said in months.]

But I'm not here to focus on what I can't fix. I'm here to focus on what I can. I'm not trying to...I'm not trying to defeat you. [He runs a hand over his face and through his hair.] But I can't help you if you plain don't want to be helped.

I...

[Whatever he was about to say is lost when Bourne mentions Crayak, and he noticeably flinches. He's taken aback, and his angry retort dies on his lips.]

[And then Bourne keeps going, barreling straight into rat territory. And echoing with his words, whether intentionally or not, something Rachel had told him once before: You were always a rat, David.]

[He jerks his head as if Bourne had slapped him. All his anger seems to evaporate. His shoulders sag and he twists his face away from the journal, dully listening to everything else he's got to say. Surprised, in a detached sort of way, when Bourne starts yelling.]

[He doesn't retort or shout back. He doesn't trust himself to speak.]

[If this is the most Bourne has said in months, what he's met with is undoubtedly the least David has said in months. Because, really, what's there to say? Bourne's right and he knows it. Maybe Rachel and the others were right too.]

[Numb silence on David's end when Bourne finally finishes. Whether you meant to defeat him or not, Bourne, that's exactly what you just did - and it didn't take a single blow or threat to do it, either.]

[Immediately Bourne senses he's pushed too hard, and when David's silent for a long, long stretch, he shakes his head again.]

Fuck.

[He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. The yelling has started a headache blooming behind his eyes. So he mutters and roots around for his bottle of Advil.]

I'm not really good with kids...Admiral's sense of humor, of course I get the youngest inmate on board...

[He unscrews the cap with a practiced flick of the wrist and taps two of the little pink pills into his hand. He takes them dry, swallows, and leans on his elbow in front of the camera again, eyes closed, firmly pinching the bridge of his nose. And he's shaking his head.

It's clear that he's frustrated. With himself or with David is up for debate.]

Edited 2011-07-15 03:50 (UTC)

Twenty First Race

[Public] Lucky you don't read comics :C

[Public] I threw my hands up and gave up last year. Just in time to miss the reboot, thank goodness.

[Public] :CC

[Public] S'okay, that's what headcanon is for.

[Public] So much headcanon. And rp.

[Public] Always RP. Always.

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