necesse est aut imiteris aut oderis

[madimpossibledreamer]

swapped reaction: Being tortured is exhausting to the soul. Blake meets the gaze of his cellmate wearily. “Under the circumstances, why should I do anything else?”

Main Points:
Buffy/Blake's 7 (Place in the Universe)
Chapter Summary: Blake meets a new potential ally when hanging in chains.
Word Count: 1555
Rating: Teen
Warnings: hints to torture but not on-screen

 

In the end, life should be more than a legacy. If all you’re ever doing is preparing for, anticipating, living for the future, then you drift through the present, no more than a ghost.

        Blake startles awake, wincing at the way it pulls his too-abused arms in the chains. They say torture breaks everyone in different ways. For Blake, it’s—well.
        The disorientation. For a minute he never knows where he is, which terrifies him. It’s too close to how he’d been, lost and dreaming tranquilised dreams. The actual moments after aren’t so bad, particularly when he recognizes it was only physical torture. As things go, that’s not so bad, but the moments before he remembers bother him. Of course, it’s also present any time he goes to sleep, which is why he often doesn’t, but it isn’t as profound, which means it’s easier to ignore, to shrug off.
        “Easy,” someone whispers.
        Blake’s coughs subside under encouragement. Two facts make themselves apparent: one, that he is growing far too familiar with a variety of torture techniques the universe over, and two, that they really had better hurry. Because he’s feeling more real, more present in this body now than he had when they’d arrived, and suddenly gets the uncomfortable feeling that should it last too much longer, it will become rather permanent.
        He’s not alone, and, well. Torturers don’t usually bother with aftercare unless they aim to mock. The precise combination of injuries slowly brings the exact timeframe back to him. His nose is still a little hard to breathe through, blood crusted beneath. He opens his eyes as well as he can to find a fellow prisoner chained on the wall eyeing him curiously.
        “I don’t recognize you,” the newcomer remarks, louder now that he’s fully awake. It could be taken as just a neutral statement of fact, but the quiet simmering fury in his eyes coupled with the curiosity speaks louder than any of the words.
        Blake manages a hint of a smile, squinting slightly through a swollen eye and lips that don’t particularly want to cooperate. “Blake.”
        Just like Giles, it appears this particular man has also heard the story of himself and his allies, because he reacts immediately with interest. “Roj Blake? So that’s really Travis and Servalan? You’re being honest with me?”
        Blake manages a breath through at least bruised ribs, meeting the other’s gaze as best he can. If nothing else, their interests might coincide. “I don’t suppose you would’ve noticed any of the chaos tonight. It’s some of the best proof I have.” He coughs again, the other watching with equal parts sympathy and cruel interest. “Given your own state, I’d gather you didn’t exactly endear yourself to either.”
        Before the man can respond, Willow phases through the wall, though she gasps on seeing his state.
        “It’s not as bad as it looks; I’ve had worse.” That does not seem to reassure her in any way, probably largely because if she’s seen any material concerning him, she probably knows what ‘worse’ actually entails. Fortunately, she’s derailed before she can lecture him about things he can’t exactly help. Neither Jenna nor Cally would, but Willow specifically seems the type.
        “What is Spike doing here?” she asks, suddenly superior, and hopefully she’s not letting yet more youthful interpersonal conflict get in the way.
        “The same thing I am, presumably,” he responds dryly. He hadn’t missed those wounds, though it seems like they hadn’t practiced much of their torturing practices on him.
        Spike jangles the chains for dramatic effect, clearly a showman himself. “Didn’t want to give up my little slice of hell, did I? Just took it fair and square m’self. They took exception to that little declaration.”
        Willow narrows her eyes, but she’s interested despite herself. “But they’re both human right now, and sure, they have a lot of demons and vampires following them, but still, how did they get you?”
        He does the best imitation of a shrug he can manage, dangling as he is. There’s that fire, again. Blake can do something with that. “Had Dru, didn’t they? Wasn’t going to do anything with them ready to stake her. Must’ve wandered out; couldn’t resist catching the view.” He’s also trying to be jaunty, but a little peak of the despair peeks through, and yes, he might be just the sort of ally they’re looking for. Though—Dru is honestly a very normal name for Blake’s time, but he’d been beginning to suspect it’d been not-so-normal in this one, and yet Willow seems to have known what is probably a vampire of this time, so she’s probably not also from the future...Blake’s head hurts, and not just from the torture.
        “And if they didn’t have her anymore? What would happen then, I wonder,” Blake muses out loud, only to be met with a shark’s grin, rather like Avon’s at his most fierce.
        Willow forgets herself and tries to shake him. Due to the torture, the results would have been most unfortunate if she hadn’t also forgotten about her powers and accidentally just phased through him instead, to Spike’s intrigued amusement. “We’re not going to help out Spike and Drusilla! You can’t trust them any more than you...than you can trust Avon!”
        Poor choice there, Willow, Blake thinks, this time not voicing the thought. He merely contradicts mildly, “But I do trust Avon.”
        “He ran away! When you gave yourself up, he just left you to die.” She must notice, judging by his not-so-convinced expression, that her arguments aren’t working, so she adds, “You wouldn’t know this yet, because for you it hasn’t happened yet, but he kills you.”
        At first, Blake doesn’t believe it. Some sort of mistake, or perhaps she’s lying, but she looks utterly sincere, and Spike himself starts, so it’s probably true. But just because it’s true doesn’t mean that it proves her point, either. “My habit of secret-killing kills me, I’d suppose, no matter his own involvement. That, or I have underlying programming that has not yet been triggered, so killing me was the only way to protect everything we’ve accomplished.”
        Spike looks downright impressed, even whistling, equal parts mocking and genuine. “Didn’t think you’d be so self-aware.”
        “Just because I don’t like to spend time in my own head doesn’t mean I don’t reside there,” Blake responds with dignity.
        Willow is unfortunately not half as impressed. “But he’s supposed to be a genius! He’s supposed to be above misunderstandings like that! Why do you always give him so much faith he doesn’t deserve?”
        He meets her gaze, and something about his own quells her anger. He tries not to show too much of this honestly, this emptiness of all those cavities in his brain hollowed out by his ‘adjustment’. It frightens him, so he imagines it must do the same for others. Certainly it discomfits Avon, though that’s probably from how it interferes with his predictability than anything inherent about the condition. Avon is the sort to take comfort in a sure thing. “A mercurial genius, I think you’ll find, who is prone to far more feelings than he’d like to admit. In the intervening years, I’d like to think he’s given me more than a few reasons to trust him further. At the present, it’s at least in part because if I can’t trust my own instincts, what else have I got?”
        She has nothing to say to that.
        Spike interrupts cheerfully, probably in the middle of happily plotting his revenge. “Never thought I’d be throwing my lot in with the Blake.” Something about his tone suggests that he’d previously been on Travis or Servalan’s side, before either decided to meddle in his life. The vampire does seem to have some similarity to Avon, though Willow, Blake feels, is entirely incorrect about the reasons why. Oh, both seem utterly convinced and are simultaneously trying desperately to convince others that they are nothing but scoundrels, but both, those instincts insist, have a hidden streak of nobility, some care for their fellow...beings, he supposes, in this case.
        Right. Time to get on with it. He’s feeling a little re-energised, now that he’s starting to have that little sliver of hope. Of a plan. “Willow, I believe Cally may have retaken the army base they had been using. She will likely be able to help you make some sort of plan to rescue this Drusilla and take this base. Once it’s done, Cally can inform Spike that he is free to fight. I presume these chains aren’t really adequate for holding a vampire?” This is, admittedly, a gamble; he isn’t sure Spike is a vampire, and the guess about the chains is mostly the result of the observation that Spike is not really acting as if he’s much hampered by them in any way.
        “They’re for humans. Not sure the traitors really feel loyal enough to warn him.” Yes, Blake’s fairly sure of his assessment. Spike doesn’t sound surprised, but that bite suggests that he’d taken it personally even as he’d expected to be betrayed. Unhappily Willow nods and then is gone again, but they don’t really have too much time to discuss strategies after the fact, because Travis is entering the room once again, and at his not-so-gentle touch Blake’s consciousness fades once more.