Part 2

[walk_ins]

There's a stink of gunpowder in the air; too much for the Station's air recyclers to clear out. Blood, too. But things have gotten quiet, except for the rare moan from the blue-handed defenders. Whatever forces are left to protect the Academy have given up on breaking the seige and have fallen back, waiting for the attackers to come out.

Time's running out.

Comments

[aj_crawley]

This is how the end begins.

In the beginning, when God created the world, the Earth was formless and desolate. The raging ocean that covered everything was engulfed in total darkness. And then God commanded,

     Let there be light.

He separated the Light from the Darkness, and that was the first day. God looked upon it, and saw that it was good.

(Come-come-commala)

Crowley stands in a rubble-strewn corridor, crouched ready. In one hand, a tyre iron. In the other, a pair of socks with a lump of debris inside. In his ears, the blaring claxons - almost white noise, now - and the receding footsteps of Ace and Jayne, heading towards the all-important core.

Facing him is the Doctor.

[walk_ins]

He's very very tall---right now. His feet don't touch the ground. And his eyes are silver as freshly-minted nickels.

His nostrils flare--and by this I mean the flex, until the center of his face is two gapin dark holes--then pinch closed. "You're no din from the Ter, my fine cully. What sort of tah are you?"

[aj_crawley]

There's a horrid sense of... sucking; Crowley almost leans bodily towards the Doctor as he sniffs, though there's no physical force to pull him.

He doesn't know what the Doctor's saying. But he thinks he knows what the Doctor means.

"Whips in Hell, and chains in Sheol."

On the second day, God created the dome called the Sky, and on the third, he separated Land from Water, and called them Earth and Sea. The fourth day came, and God placed lights in the Sky, to rule over day and night. God looked upon his work, and saw that it was good. It was well, may it do ya, can I get an Amen?

What was that? Crowley forces his own question out through gritted teeth.

"The fuck are you?"

Crowley's hands are shaking.

(Commala-come-come)

[walk_ins]

"Foxes in foxholes, and rats down ratholes, they too are hurt," he recites the rejoinder; he can't not. There are rules. Even for things like him there are rules.

He shall rule them with a rod of iron;
They shall be dashed to pieces like the potter’s vessels

He executes a mocking bow; his fingertips brush the wall, four feet away.

Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a voice like thunder, “Come and see.” And I looked, and behold, a white horse. He who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.

"Lord Sylngshun," he sneers, like a garbage disposal with a voice. "Duke of Discordia, and servant of the Crimson King, Abbalah-Doon.

[aj_crawley]

Irresistibly, Crowley feels his own head dip, as though under a great weight. He swallows. Takes a deep, shaky breath. Bites down on the bubble of hysterical giggling that's threatening to burst free because Duke, Duke, he would be a fucking Duke, wouldn't he?

It's a sodding wheel, that's all it is.

But he hasn't got a bucket of holy water and an ansa-phone this time.

On the fifth day, God commanded that the water be filled with fish, and the Sky with birds of many colours. On the sixth, it was that the Earth produced all kinds of animals, great and small. Then the Lord God took some soil from the ground, and formed a man, and took a rib from the man, and made a woman, and breathed life into them, that they be of the Earth, and of God, and of each other.

"You'll forgive me," the demon says, in a strangled voice, "if I don't ask you to dance."

( come )

[walk_ins]

The Doctor smiles now--let's go on calling him that, why not, he's had a thousand names before, Sunday and Sunshine and Seanchan and Saltion and Salazin and Saldor and the Son of Sam--the Doctor smiles now, his cannibal smile, the teeth turned inward to rip and shred and devour.

the hairs on your arms will stand up
at the terror in each sip
and in each sup

"Indeed. I will merely kill you."

When He opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come and see.” Another horse, fiery red, went out. And it was granted to the one who sat on it to take peace from the earth, and that people should kill one another; and there was given to him a great sword.

And he springs.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley thinks he might be Falling even before the Doctor touches him; an instinctive shying away from his rotten-silk touch.

Automatically, as he hits the ground, he raises one hand to shield his face, and Duke Sunday's teeth close upon it. The look of shock - sheer outrage - on Crowley's face, as his cheek and chin are spattered with his own blood, is almost comical.

On the seventh day, God rested. That is how the world was made.

He can't get up. He can't get up. The Doctor's grip around his other arm, revolting bones in mushroom-skin sheathes, is like iron.

And the demon Crawly looked upon it, and saw that it was good.

He stills, tensing, and then yanks - tears - his hand away. The last two joints of the third finger are gone. Jayne's socks are drenched in blackish-red.

Crowley tightens what grip he has on them, and then smashes the lump of rubble into Sylngshun's face.

[walk_ins]

The face flickers and fluctuates, absorbing the blow, and he pushes himself up with a hand on Crowley's chest. His talons slice open the demon's shirt and cut ribbons of blood across his ribs.

When He opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come and see.” So I looked, and behold, a black horse, and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four living creatures saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; and do not harm the oil and the wine.”

"You hit me with a sock." The Doctor sounds incredulous.

When He opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come and see.” So I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hades followed with him. And power was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword, with hunger, with death, and by the beasts of the earth.

The taste of Crowley's blood is in his mouth, and he knows him now.

When He opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the testimony which they held. And they cried with a loud voice, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, until You judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” Then a white robe was given to each of them; and it was said to them that they should rest a little while longer, until both the number of their fellow servants and their brethren, who would be killed as they were, was completed.

"A sock. One of the can calah, fallen and foul, from the Hells of the Ter, hit me with a sock."

[aj_crawley]

Crowley can't think of anything else to say.

"Fuck yeah, I did."

Fuck, does that ever hurt.

There came to pass many things, both Good and Evil. Dark over Light, White over Red, but always a balance. An equilibrium.

Only - wait. Wait, oh, please, the Doctor's grip has loosened on his other arm, just a bit, oh, wait, if he can only -

Crowley whips his head to the right. His hand must have gone numb. That's why he didn't feel it before, he thinks. Why he didn't realise that he's lost his hold on the tyre iron, that it's now lying about a foot from his right hand.

Thus was the Ineffable Plan. Pria-toi, Gan delah.

His other hand hasn't gone numb. It hurts. A lot. So does his chest.

And after a decade became a century, a century became a millenium, and one millenium became six, there was to be a Reckoning.

Somewhere inside, a small voice wonders why they haven't begun to heal yet.

Game over, insert coin.

[walk_ins]

The Doctor is enormous now; space billows out of his way, and he looms down into Crowley's face, those awful fishhook teeth and his rank breath--the stench of rotting fear, say true--inches away.
It feeds on fear.
I looked when He opened the sixth seal, and behold,there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became like blood. And the stars of heaven fell to the earth, as a fig tree drops its late figs when it is shaken by a mighty wind. Then the sky receded as a scroll when it is rolled up, and every mountain and island was moved out of its place. And the kings of the earth, the great men, the rich men, the commanders, the mighty men, every slave and every free man, hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains, and said to the mountains and rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of His wrath has come, and who is able to stand?”
So what is the opposite of fear?
He reaches up and takes Crowley's head in his hands, his enormous hands that grip the demon's skull like a nutcracker, and the talons of his thumbs prick
Is it courage?
(it's hard for thee to kick against the pricks)
No. Courage is the opposite of cowardice.
prick into his golden eyes.
So what is the opposite of fear?
"I'm going to take your fear, and your life, and your khef, tah-tete." The hands tilt Crowley's head back, and the teeth--those indescribable teeth--close on his throat, pricking gently, gently, and blood begins to flow.
I think it's honesty.
The next words he does not say aloud; cannot, in this position. But Crowley hears them very well.
Honesty, and belief.
Scream for me.

[aj_crawley]

Scream for me.

It's not a request.

He's still inching his hand across the floor to the tyre iron. But he can't reach it. He can't get up.

Air hissing around the Doctor's teeth, Crowley takes in one great, terrified breath.

And the demon Crowley looked upon the Earth, and upon the rangéd hosts, and with his can calah, his can-calah beside him, he took up in his hand a rod of iron - a tyre iron, may it do ya - and he stood. Woulda fought, too. Sent 'em home with a fuckin' rupture.

Everything's going... kind of hazy. He can't... see properly anymore.

And it was very well.

This is how the world was made, and in this way the world was saved.

The Doctor has Crowley by the throat, and he can feel a great burn starting, where the nails of the creature's hands start to prick prick into his eyes.


There are other worlds than these.
Da fan.

Crowley can taste them in red,
the first tears he's ever cried.
He finds them very good, indeed.




And then, finally, then, his questing fingers close around the cool rod of iron on the floor - a tyre iron, if it does ya.



It is good.

[walk_ins]

There's something in the air.
come
It's more pure than Heaven. It's more merciless than Hell.
come
It's a compound, comprised of honesty, and belief.
come
In fact, of faith in something.
come
A great crackling white (White) force looking for something to be grounded in.
COMMALA
Even a tyre iron.
“These are the ones who come out of the great tribulation, and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will dwell among them. They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
The Doctor senses that force in motion. He grips, and plunges his thumbs up through the eyes, into the brain, even as his jaws close on the throat--and he recoils, holding maimed hands over a maimed mouth.
All things serve the Beam.
Even a tyre iron. Even a demon.
Whoever is righteous, let him be righteous still.
Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still
Whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still
He's small now, and lost, sprawled on the floor, with absurdly long legs tangled beneath him like slack rope. He holds up his thumbless hands in a (multi)universal gesture of warding off.
Listen to the words long written down.
"Ag rungk hheleeggh ik." This is how you talk, without lips or teeth. He grasps at his masks, his thousand masks, and finds a convenient shape, one he's held for weeks.
Cam-a-cam-mal, pria-toi, Gan delah
"I don't believe it."
When He opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come and see.” So I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of she who sat on it was Death.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley can't see. But he kens the Doctor well enough. They do say that Justice is blind.


Crowley doesn't have any more vocal cords. But that doesn't matter. He doesn't have anything more to say.


Crowley's on his knees. Pulling himself up with the tyre iron. Feet.




Thwock. A howl.


Thwock. A horrible, sewage-water gurgle.


Thwock. Silence.


Clang. The sound of the tyre iron against corridor's pseudo-metal wall.

[flybywash]

Serenity's cargo bay is empty now. Unless, of course, you count the bloodstains. Wash's hands, clothes, feels like everything reek of it, and his arms are stiff and sore from hauling the bodies of the can-toi.

Upstairs, the bridge is still coloured a washed-out red from the back-up lights. He sits in the pilot's chair, head in his hands, and watches the fuel gauge. It's been chirping out a steady warning every fifteen seconds on the dot.

Chirp.

LEAK SUSPECTED. CHECK FUEL LEVELS AT ONCE.

Chirp.

Thirty-one more minutes, give or take, and it won't matter who succeeded, who failed. They'll all be enjoying their nice new careers as pieces of space trash.

Chirp.

Wash shifts, presses the side of one hand to his mouth, and waits.

[nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com]

There are intruders all over the skyplex now, on various missions.

These two are bent on destruction.
All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel
Ace and Jayne race towards the core, Jayne on point, Ace on his heels, both praying that whatever Crowley's got cooked up for their friend ugly back there works, and works fast.

[simon_doctor]

The students are pouring down the corridor like --

Simon's mind gropes for comparisons, and lights for a moment on the old fairytale about the Piper of Hamelin, and then grasps with somewhat more confidence the old Bible tale about the Children of Israel and the Red Sea.

Mal's in the lead, about as unMoseslike as anyone could ask for, snapping off shot after shot at a last few blue-handed guards. Inara and Faith and Ted moving up and down the column like sheepdogs, coaxing and chivvying them along, as is Simon himself -- right now closest to Cuthbert, who's bringing up the rear.

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*Jayne knows the Skyplex by heart, and as they run, he forces his brain to calculate approximately how many guards they might hit, given how many they hit elsewhere.

Maybe-- ten? Fifteen? Eighteen tops, when everything else is going on in the other gorram corridor.

One guard turns a corner, his face pale with either fear or exertion, and he gets off a shot before Jayne blasts him with Vera.

To Ace--*

Oops. Duck next time and yer hair won't get all scorchified.

[walk_ins]

A small hand grabs Simon's wrist for a moment, and he looks down to see a fairly young student staring up at him with enormous blue eyes. One of the few who'd seemed to understand why they were there, back in the cafeteria.

"Hear the loud alarum bells," she says, clearly and distinctly, "brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!"

[nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com]

"Or, you know, you could not shoot a millimeter away from my head." She retorts drily, counting cross-corridors. There's a turn up here, if she's remembering right, and hopefully they haven't blocked it off with some other ugly thingyumbobber.

Of course, it's rather hard to be grim and worried when the joyful thought of 'gonna blow it up!' is revolving around in her head.

[simon_doctor]

"It's all right," Simon tells her, almost automatically. "That's good; keep moving. We're almost there."

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*Jayne sneers.*

Aint got time to aim 'round yer ponytail, girlie.

*Ace finds the corridor in question and--

That is one ugly thingyumbobber.*

Tamade.

*Jayne shoots at the

(can-toi, you know the word you just can't say it)

blue-handed lizard-thing, and misses.*

[walk_ins]

More and more of the Blue Hands they see are injured or unmasked, retreating from the seiges elsewhere in the station, intent on taking out their frustation on someone, and choosing this pair of humes (neither of them a gunslinger, say thankya) as a likely target.

They have chosen...poorly.

[walk_ins]

She shakes her head irritably and plants her feet, tugging at his arm. Her tone is intent, imperative; she's trying to tell him something.

"The ear distinctly tells, in the jangling and the wrangling, how the danger sinks and swells --"

Simon looks blank. She presses her lips together in what looks like annoyance and tries again. "The people? They that live up in the steeple, all alone? And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, in that muffled monotone, feel a glory in so rolling on the human heart a stone-- "

[nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com]

Ace frowns at the 'girlie' comment.
The monkey thought it was all for fun
Without bothering to answer, she raises the laser rifle she has slung over one shoulder into position and aims, sighting down the barrel.
Pop
Nighty-night, ugly.

The can-toi drops in his tracks, a nasty circular burn in his forehead.
Goes the weasel
"Don't call me girlie."

[simon_doctor]

"We have to hurry," he tells her, trying to move her along with the other students. Cuthbert's drawn almost level with him, and jerks his head in a come-on gesture. "You can tell me about it when we're --"