black_sluggard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
black_sluggard) wrote2012-07-29 01:38 am
black_sluggard) wrote2012-07-29 01:38 am
Entry tags:
(Fic) Sui Generis—Chapter Six
Title: Sui Generis
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 1,164
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter Six
When Kevin woke up, he was alone.
He had been unconscious for the past four days. His fever was gone, having broken three days ago. The population of foreign cells in his body had increased dramatically over the week he had spent in Javier's bed. That aggressive invasion of his flesh had been what was making him sick, and while Javier had been able to lessen the damage, it had been impossible for his partner to undo what he had done or to halt its spread completely. But whatever it was that had come into being inside him seemed to have finally stabilized. For now at least, it seemed to be working with him rather than against him. And those alien tissues were learning to operate on their own, so his partner had begun spending less time watching over him, hoping for that development to continue. Though his body still ached like something was missing, those pieces no longer required Javier's presence to function.
Kevin hadn't needed to be told any of those things, he just knew them. Javier knew them because on some vague, instinctual level Javier had felt them happening, so now Kevin knew them too.
He knew a lot of things now.
He knew that the dreams he had been having before had been Javier's memories—of the strange place he had come from, of the hive, and of the first confusing moments of his humanity, or what passed for it. Those memories had been imparted to Kevin, encoded within the strange new pieces of him. Though the recollection was fragmented and disorganized, he remembered those things almost as if the memories were his own. He knew his partner's deep human dread of never knowing whether to think of himself as Javier Esposito, or merely the thing that had killed him. He knew the inhuman pain Javier had felt living an incomplete existence, separated from his hive— Cut off from the rest of himself.
It was so much more than the simple loneliness Kevin had first thought he had seen. That drive to connect was a physical need, every bit as vital as the hunger for food or the need for sex...
That intense hive-hunger which had driven Javier to try and make Kevin a part of himself was an unfathomably alien imperative, but the love—and the jealousy his partner felt for Jenny—were both very human. He knew the strength of Javier's feelings for him, now. It became difficult for him to separate one bond from the other, however, and he knew that the places where those two conflicting natures met were what had given his partner the most trouble. And—
Oh God, Kevin thought, realizing suddenly, Jenny.
Because he also knew that Javier had called in to the station to excuse their absence for the week, but that his partner hadn't bothered with a story for Jenny. Kevin dragged himself out of bed, a little surprised that he could stay on his feet after sleeping for so long. He would have been surprised at being able to move at all having gone so long without eating if it weren't for the awareness that, once things had progressed past a certain point, Javier had been able to do so for the both of them. He shuddered, shying away from that knowledge, and trying not to think about the incomprehensible exchange of chemicals and tissues and memory and God alone knew what else...
And he didn't need to search to find his clothes where Javier had put them. He threw them on hastily.
When he stumbled out into the living room, Javier was sitting there. He looked up from the hands clasped in front of him as Kevin entered, some emotion flashing in his eyes that was shuttered too quickly for Kevin to recognize. Having pieces of his partner's memories was nothing at all like telepathy, and he had no idea what Javier was thinking. They stared at each other for a long moment. Neither one of them spoke. And when Javier was the first to look away, Kevin left the apartment without a word.
He didn't know how he felt when Javier didn't try to stop him.
When he got home, Kevin took a long look at himself in the mirror. He looked long and hard, examining the image in front of him with a merciless scrutiny. He looked...better than he had when he was sick, but he didn't look any different. Not that he had expected to. He had known he wouldn't, because Javier had examined him as well, and found nothing amiss. No unexpected blemishes, no...defects. The mark on his stomach was completely gone, healed without a trace.
Apart from the alien memories and that strange hollowness inside him he didn't feel much different, either, though he felt a strange sense of deja vu as one of those memories surfaced. It was the recollection of Javier doing very nearly the same thing he was now. Hidden away in the cramped bathroom of some military hospital overseas, his partner had searched his own face—for mark or flaw, or anything else that might have answered the terrifying questions buzzing in his head. Begging the creature that looked back at him to tell him who it was. To tell him what it was.
And whether it deserved to live.
Kevin turned away from the image reflected in front of him, closing his eyes to shut out its questioning stare. He took a slow, shaking breath and struggled to clamp down hard on the panic that was threatening to escape his control—as a scream, or perhaps a sob—and take the rest of his sanity with it. Fear and confusion strangled his thoughts. It was all too chaotic to even begin to make sense of. In the end, he found it easier not to try. He let habit steer him. He ate because he thought he should, methodically and barely tasting anything over the metallic flavor of dread on his tongue.
And he spared a few hours trying to think of anything he might tell Jenny to explain his disappearance.
Finally, he simply decided to tell her the truth—though a criminally incomplete one. He told her that he had gotten sick at work. He told her that he had been completely out of it, and that Javier had taken care of him and just forgotten to tell her. And he let her yell at him over it, agreeing with everything she said about how thoughtless and irresponsible it had been, because he simply hadn't possessed the strength to argue.
It felt wrong.
Kevin thought he should tell her what had happened to him. That she deserved to know the full truth. But there was no way for him to give it to her without sounding like he was crazy. That thought was almost impossible for him to frame for anyone else when he still had trouble comprehending it himself. How could Kevin possibly tell the woman he loved that he might not be human anymore?
How could he tell her that he might not even be him?
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Just one more chapter after this.
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 1,164
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter Six
When Kevin woke up, he was alone.
He had been unconscious for the past four days. His fever was gone, having broken three days ago. The population of foreign cells in his body had increased dramatically over the week he had spent in Javier's bed. That aggressive invasion of his flesh had been what was making him sick, and while Javier had been able to lessen the damage, it had been impossible for his partner to undo what he had done or to halt its spread completely. But whatever it was that had come into being inside him seemed to have finally stabilized. For now at least, it seemed to be working with him rather than against him. And those alien tissues were learning to operate on their own, so his partner had begun spending less time watching over him, hoping for that development to continue. Though his body still ached like something was missing, those pieces no longer required Javier's presence to function.
Kevin hadn't needed to be told any of those things, he just knew them. Javier knew them because on some vague, instinctual level Javier had felt them happening, so now Kevin knew them too.
He knew a lot of things now.
He knew that the dreams he had been having before had been Javier's memories—of the strange place he had come from, of the hive, and of the first confusing moments of his humanity, or what passed for it. Those memories had been imparted to Kevin, encoded within the strange new pieces of him. Though the recollection was fragmented and disorganized, he remembered those things almost as if the memories were his own. He knew his partner's deep human dread of never knowing whether to think of himself as Javier Esposito, or merely the thing that had killed him. He knew the inhuman pain Javier had felt living an incomplete existence, separated from his hive— Cut off from the rest of himself.
It was so much more than the simple loneliness Kevin had first thought he had seen. That drive to connect was a physical need, every bit as vital as the hunger for food or the need for sex...
That intense hive-hunger which had driven Javier to try and make Kevin a part of himself was an unfathomably alien imperative, but the love—and the jealousy his partner felt for Jenny—were both very human. He knew the strength of Javier's feelings for him, now. It became difficult for him to separate one bond from the other, however, and he knew that the places where those two conflicting natures met were what had given his partner the most trouble. And—
Oh God, Kevin thought, realizing suddenly, Jenny.
Because he also knew that Javier had called in to the station to excuse their absence for the week, but that his partner hadn't bothered with a story for Jenny. Kevin dragged himself out of bed, a little surprised that he could stay on his feet after sleeping for so long. He would have been surprised at being able to move at all having gone so long without eating if it weren't for the awareness that, once things had progressed past a certain point, Javier had been able to do so for the both of them. He shuddered, shying away from that knowledge, and trying not to think about the incomprehensible exchange of chemicals and tissues and memory and God alone knew what else...
And he didn't need to search to find his clothes where Javier had put them. He threw them on hastily.
When he stumbled out into the living room, Javier was sitting there. He looked up from the hands clasped in front of him as Kevin entered, some emotion flashing in his eyes that was shuttered too quickly for Kevin to recognize. Having pieces of his partner's memories was nothing at all like telepathy, and he had no idea what Javier was thinking. They stared at each other for a long moment. Neither one of them spoke. And when Javier was the first to look away, Kevin left the apartment without a word.
He didn't know how he felt when Javier didn't try to stop him.
When he got home, Kevin took a long look at himself in the mirror. He looked long and hard, examining the image in front of him with a merciless scrutiny. He looked...better than he had when he was sick, but he didn't look any different. Not that he had expected to. He had known he wouldn't, because Javier had examined him as well, and found nothing amiss. No unexpected blemishes, no...defects. The mark on his stomach was completely gone, healed without a trace.
Apart from the alien memories and that strange hollowness inside him he didn't feel much different, either, though he felt a strange sense of deja vu as one of those memories surfaced. It was the recollection of Javier doing very nearly the same thing he was now. Hidden away in the cramped bathroom of some military hospital overseas, his partner had searched his own face—for mark or flaw, or anything else that might have answered the terrifying questions buzzing in his head. Begging the creature that looked back at him to tell him who it was. To tell him what it was.
And whether it deserved to live.
Kevin turned away from the image reflected in front of him, closing his eyes to shut out its questioning stare. He took a slow, shaking breath and struggled to clamp down hard on the panic that was threatening to escape his control—as a scream, or perhaps a sob—and take the rest of his sanity with it. Fear and confusion strangled his thoughts. It was all too chaotic to even begin to make sense of. In the end, he found it easier not to try. He let habit steer him. He ate because he thought he should, methodically and barely tasting anything over the metallic flavor of dread on his tongue.
And he spared a few hours trying to think of anything he might tell Jenny to explain his disappearance.
Finally, he simply decided to tell her the truth—though a criminally incomplete one. He told her that he had gotten sick at work. He told her that he had been completely out of it, and that Javier had taken care of him and just forgotten to tell her. And he let her yell at him over it, agreeing with everything she said about how thoughtless and irresponsible it had been, because he simply hadn't possessed the strength to argue.
It felt wrong.
Kevin thought he should tell her what had happened to him. That she deserved to know the full truth. But there was no way for him to give it to her without sounding like he was crazy. That thought was almost impossible for him to frame for anyone else when he still had trouble comprehending it himself. How could Kevin possibly tell the woman he loved that he might not be human anymore?
How could he tell her that he might not even be him?
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Just one more chapter after this.