The New Haven Incident - Part Thirty-Four

Conflict raged in him. He craved this; this searching through his failings, the gentle accepting of them. And yet he hated it. He wanted, more than anything, to have someone look at the monster within him, and accept it. To love it. Because he could not.

He opened his hands and reached back to grab at the metal handle at the head of the hospital bed, leaving Lilith able to free both her hands. A small smile flickered across her face and she brought her hand down, tracing the lines of his muscles on his arms, then chest. One by one, she explored, pausing at his various scars. At each, Sebastian spasmed in pain, recoiling, but each time he gripped the handle above him harder, squeezing in an effort to keep his hands away from hers.

When Lilith came to the scar that cut across his left pectoral, then up to the stab wound just under his left clavicle, Sebastian was weeping openly. Each new exploration tearing open wounds, making them fresh in his mind again, and then, in her patient way, easing the pain with her touch, her lips, his longing. The scar under his clavicle drew a small, quiet wail from Sebastian.

He stepped carefully, knowing full well the entire trail was littered with traps. It was better that he avoid them, rather than disable them. Not only would disabling them waste precious time, but would likely send an update of his precise location. Not a good idea when the one you’re hunting is largely considered the most capable killer in The Department.

His rifle, tied with cheese cloth in places to reduce the noise of his movement — even the smallest sound would alert his quarry — remained in front of him, ready to be brought up should he catch sight of his target.

However much Sebastian had dreamt of facing the Master Sergeant during his hellish time at Tumnus, training close combat with the Master Sergeant, he dreaded facing the man now. Sebastian had several scars from training. Berkley wasn’t trying to kill him then. He was now.

Nothing in the mission brief mentioned why Master Sergeant Berkley had snapped. Only that he had, and with the breaking of his mind came the loss of the lives of his men by his own hand. Two kill squads were sent in, and both were picked apart, obliterated one by one. To a man.

To say that Master Sergeant Berkley was the most dangerous person on the planet was to understate the threat he presented.

With no one left to take him on, The Department sent in Sebastian; the Master Sergeant’s last student still alive. The hope was that Sebastian would be in the best place to anticipate Berkley’s moves, and so would be in the best position to remove the threat he presented.

Turning a corner, Sebastian came face to face with the rotting skull of a member of the first kill squad sent to neutralise Berkley. Sebastian’s rifle jumped up to fire, but realising what he was seeing, Sebastian did not pull the trigger. 

Taking a shaky breath, Sebastian pushed forward, stepping over a suspicious-looking pile of leaves that likely held the trigger for a trap. The trail twisted on, between the trunks of the massive trees and their impossibly high canopies that somehow only added to the oppressive heat of the jungle. More heads appeared, one with his communications unit artfully placed so that he looked to be grinning into his microphone.

“Christ, Berkley,” Sebastian murmured to himself, moving on.

The trail ended with three bodies swinging from one of the trees, opening into a small clear space on a plateau that overlooked the valley below. The sun was getting low, casting golden light. If Sebastian were not here to kill his former instructor, it would have been a beautiful place to rest.

Looking around the area, Sebastian noted the lean-to with the bedroll, neatly folded at the entrance. Crates of weapons and explosives were stacked against a tree nearby. On one, several candles flickered, forming a circle around something.

Moving forward, keeping a close eye on his surroundings, Sebastian approached. He stopped dead at what sat in the centre of the candle circle. It was a picture of him, from his first year at Tumnus. He was scrawny then, but not much else had changed. He had the same hair, and the same hollow, haunted look in his eyes. Across the image, in blood dried to a muddy colour, were the words Hello Sebastian.

A shadow moved in the reflection of the glossy photograph.

“Shit,” Sebastian breathed, moving backwards quickly. A throwing knife hissed past his nose.

Turning, Sebastian brought up his rifle, but Berkley was already on him. The man’s enormous hand snapped around the muzzle of the gun, pushing it down, then pulling hard. Sebastian had no choice but to let the weapon go, or he’d fall on his face.

“You’re not going to need this,” Berkley noted dispassionately. He grabbed the rifle in both hands, then brought it down hard on his knee. It snapped in half.

Sebastian reached for his sidearm and drew it up. He fired twice, somehow missing Berkley both times. Then Berkley was on him again. They exchanged strikes, until Berkley was able to lock Sebastian’s arm, forcibly firing his sidearm until the magazine emptied, announcing its uselessness with several clicks.

Berkley’s knife lashed out, and Sebastian felt his side open.

“Fuck,” he grunted, stumbling back. He pressed his hand to his side, noting the heat of his blood as it flowed through his fingers.

Berkley observed him, playing with his fighting knife. “I thought I trained you better than this, pretty boy,” he said, sneering.

Straightening, Sebastian shrugged. “I always hated your class.”

Berkley laughed.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Sir,” Sebastian said softly. “You don’t have to stay here. Hunted like an animal. Let me take you in. Let —”

“Hah!” Berkley said. “Take me in? And then what, pretty boy? You think I’m going to get a trial? You think The Department will offer justice? I’ve done too much. I know too much.” Berkley shook his head. “And for what?” He looked Sebastian over. “You lasted the longest. Of all my students. You. And look at you. I told them. I warned them. You’re too soft.” He leapt forward. Sebastian barely had time to unsheathe his own knife. It earnt him another slice, this time across his thigh. He grunted and danced away.

“How disappointing,” Berkley noted. “You are my legacy? You? I’m insulted.” He leapt forward again.

What ensued was the fight of Sebastian’s life. The two of them moved with remarkable speed; dancing around each other like two rival wolves, striking like cobras. Sebastian had not managed to put one single mark on Berkley. He staggered backwards after a flurry of attacks, his knife flying from his hands, very nearly falling to his knees. Growling, Berkley pressed the attack. Unable to keep up, Sebastian reeled back. Berkley struck. It should have been the fatal blow, but Sebastian, acting on pure instinct, twisted away at the last minute. The blade slipped into him just below the left clavicle. Using this, Sebastian grabbed Berkley’s arm at the wrist and elbow, pulling down with one hand and up with the other. The man’s elbow snapped.

Pulling Berkley’s blade from his own chest, Sebastian dropped to one knee, ducked below an incoming strike, and plunged the knife into his opponent, piercing Berkley between the fourth and fifth rib, the blade angling up and in.

Grunting Berkley fell to his knees. He coughed blood, then stared numbly down at the puddle on the ground before him. Blinking, he looked up at Sebastian.

Breathing heavily and in agony, Sebastian stared at his former instructor. He could not believe the turn of events. Berkley started laughing.

“Look at us,” he said, his mouth filling with blood. He spat it out. “Look at what they do. The fucking Department. They take people. Good people. And they break them, make them monsters.” Spitting blood again, Berkely grew serious. He lifted his hand and dropped it heavily on Sebastian’s shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was soft, uncharacteristically kind. “For the part I played in what they did to you, I’m sorry.”

The unexpected apology wounded Sebastian more than any of the cuts Berkley delivered had.

“My knife,” Berkely said between rattling gasps. “She’s yours now. She’s a fine blade. Take good care of her and she’ll take good care of you.”

“Sir…”

Berkley’s voice was eerily calm as he spoke. “It’s time now. Finish the mission, recruit.”

Sebastian turned his eyes down to the knife in his hand, buried to the hilt in Berkley’s chest. He knew the moment he withdrew the blade, Berkley was dead. He looked up at the Master Sergeant and shook his head.

“I…”

Berkley smiled. It was a ghastly sight. Blood dribbled through his teeth as his lips parted. “I told them.” He reached across and wrapped his massive hand around the hilt of the blade Sebastian still held. “You’re too soft.”

With a yank, the blade was out. For a moment, Berkley teetered on his knees, then his eyes rolled. He fell backwards.

Shock rendered Sebastian useless. He remained kneeling, the knife in his hand, staring down at his former instructor’s corpse until he, too, collapsed. Too wounded to bring himself up again, Sebastian pulled himself across the muddy ground to the twisting roots of a nearby tree. Clutching Berkley’s knife tightly, he pulled himself in, then fainted.

Hiccoughs brought on by Sebatian’s quiet weeping rocked his body as the memories flooded through him, brought to the fore by the gentle explorations of the winged woman atop him. He could not control the tears, even if he had meant to. The pain was too close, too strong. He could feel nothing else; not even shame at weeping so openly.

But Lilith was not yet done. Her hand travelled lower, to the single bullet wound just above his left hip; the failure of his last mission. The reason he had cut his own wrists.

A rescue mission; some government researcher had stumbled into hostile territory, was taken captive and forced to help his captors research a bioweapon. Sebastian was sent in to extract him before any catastrophic breakthroughs happened.

As he made his way through the dense temperate forest towards his target, he met a young boy, just eleven years old, who insisted on becoming his guide. For a week, he and the boy, Dorin, travelled together. The child was an invaluable fountain of knowledge on the local flora; what could be eaten, what was medicine, what to avoid. With a wicked humour and bright smile, Dorin was nothing short of charming and Sebastian had quickly grown to like the boy, finding in himself a kind of paternalism he had not known he was capable of.

One evening, as they ate together, Dorin asked what Sebastian’s life was like, how it was for children, if perhaps he could visit when this was over. Sensing some sadness in the boy, Sebastian explained honestly about life in the States. Dorin was particularly enthused about the amount of food people ate, and the idea of going to school to learn. Sebastian promised him when this was over he would bring Dorin over, so he could go to school and eat as much food as he liked.

It had all been a ruse. Dorin was part of the terrorist organisation, a child soldier, stolen from his home, made to forget his family, and programmed to fight and die for his kidnappers. Sebastian was his test. After a week, Sebastian turned from washing his face in a small stream, he found Dorin standing, pointing a gun at him. It had not surprised him. What did surprise him was seeing the boy’s struggle play out on his young face. There were tears in his eyes. Sebastian tried to convince the boy not to shoot, and might have succeeded, but two of the child’s captors arrived, and the gun went off.

The bullet should have struck Sebastian in the chest, killing him. He had no doubt Dorin had experience with firearms. But it hit his hip instead. The pain brought Sebastian to one knee. The boy’s captors set upon him then, striking him with sticks, kicking him. Sebastian couldn’t fight back. From beyond the gleeful captors unleashing on him, he could hear Dorin shouting at them to stop. Then, two shots. The two men dropped dead.

It took Sebastian a moment to realise that no one was beating him any longer. He uncurled and looked around. Dorin stood still, the gun still smoking in his hands. The look of incomprehension on his face slowly morphed to horror.

“Dorin,” Sebastian wheezed. He struggled to rise, to go to the boy, but his body was unwilling. All he could do was watch in horror as Dorin brought the gun up, placed the barrel against his own temple and pulled the trigger. Sebastian collapsed, the last thing he saw was Dorin’s corpse.

It began to rain.

It took Sebastian three hours to awaken and find his strength again. The monster in him had roused. He patched his wound, retrieved his weapons, and unleashed hellish revenge on the terrorist encampment. He achieved his objective. Dr. Barry Shore was rescued, the research secured; and all Sebastian had to do was obliterate everyone in the encampment. The mission was a success but he had failed once again. The failure to save Dorin, and the child’s suicide haunted him; a wound that, unlike the bullet hole in his hip, could never heal.

Sebastian sobbed, his body shuddering as he tried to bring his grief to heel. But the dam had broken, made rubble by Lilith’s kind eyes and searching fingers. His body calmed when her lips brushed the wound before she kissed it. 

Lilith reached up to his hands, which gripped the handle at the head of his bed so tightly his fingers began to cramp. Slowly, gently, she worked his fingers loose. When his grip released, she wrapped one arm around his back and lifted him up, pulling him in close.

Sebastian went gladly, letting himself fall against Lilith. There he stayed, his head buried in the nape of her neck, softly weeping. For a time, Sebastian struggled to calm himself. When he felt he could function again, he pulled away. Unable to meet her soft gaze, Sebastian dropped his head, closing his eyes.

Lilith placed a hand on Sebastian’s cheek, lifting his face to hers. He opened his eyes and met her searching gaze. Whenever Sebastian looked at his own reflection, he saw only the monster; the creature that had failed to deliver on his promises, the murderer who had razed villages to ground, tearing through them until blood soaked the streets. But there was no fear or disgust in Lilith’s eyes when she looked at him. Only warmth. Only kindness. Only want.

For the first time, the monster in Sebastian found refuge.

Fresh tears rolled down Sebastian’s cheeks. Lilith smiled softly and brushed them away with her thumbs. Sebastian closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the sensation of her thumbs caressing his face. She leant forward and kissed each of his eyes. Then her lips found his, and Sebastian forgot all about the pain. He reached up to cup her face and she took his wrists in her hands, bringing them up again, pinning them above his head with one hand.

Sebastian yielded without complaint. He did not protest as she teased him, bringing him close only to push him away again, never quite letting him have what he wanted. Sebastian complied until he could no longer. Then he tried to break free, but against Lilith’s strength he could do little more than struggle and beg.

It was not until Sebastian’s breathing had been restricted to uneven, ragged gasps, until he had lost all manner of speech but his soft pleas, until his mind fell away into unceasing, almost painful yearning that she released her hold on his wrists, letting him sit up at last to wrap strong arms around her, pulling her close; finding a home in her. Hungry lips at last closed around their greatest craving; hers. For all this release, she was still in control. Sebastian could do naught but surrender to the magic of her moving hips, the sounds of her breath as it fell hot against the side of his neck, the feel of her warmth surrounding him. He shuddered as she snaked her fingers through his hair, pulling ever so slightly with every thrust of his hips. His breath faltered as her lips pulled away from his, making their way up his jaw to his earlobe. Her teeth lightly scraped it. He grunted, his left hand slammed onto the hospital bed, stopping him from toppling backwards. His fingers dug into the thin, hard mattress.

Her soft laugh did nothing to ease his hunger for her. The opposite, in fact. The pressure was unbearable. He gulped back air in an effort to find some clarity. But there was none to be had. Every attempt at a return to sanity was snatched away from him as she rocked up and down on him, her hands leaving ripples of hot and cold as they passed over his bare skin.

He could hear himself whimper as she toyed with him. Speech had abandoned him. He shifted his weight to sit up and wrap both arms around her again, only because she allowed him. He kissed her because she willed it. His hands held her slim waist because she desired to be touched there. Sebastian no longer existed. All that he was belonged to her and her delectable torment.

That torment continued to build until, unable any longer to bear it, Sebastian shuddered, pulling her as close to him as he could as his body seized, at last releasing the tension in a single rush of mindless pleasure.

It was a long time before Sebastian realised he had crumpled against her, his head resting on her left shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around her. It took longer still for his breathing to return to normal. His throat hurt from the release of sorrow, and the unuttered words and the silent cries of passion that her presence atop him provoked.

Lilith held him close, her clawed fingers gently stroking his back and playing with his hair.

If Sebastian had his way, he would spend the rest of his life like this. This was nothing more than a brief, if very welcome, diversion, he knew. Still, as sleep crept in to steal what strength he had left, he whispered a simple wish in her ear. “Stay.”

He felt Lilith turn her head and press her lips against his temple and he smiled. She sighed and pulled away. “No,” Sebastian murmured, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling her close.

Laughing softly, Lilith pulled away again. This time Sebastian let her, immediately regretting the sudden rush of cold air that replaced her warmth. He shivered, sitting on the bed, watching her as she padded quickly to the counter to retrieve her clothes. She dug around in one of the cupboards briefly before extracting a large box of individually wrapped wet towels. She drew one out and tossed it to Sebastian, tilting her head towards the bathroom.

Sebastian sighed. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, sliding off the bed. It took him a moment to regain the coordination to stand properly. He gathered up his clothes and made his way to the bathroom to tidy up and dress. When he returned, still without a shirt, Lilith was dressed and standing by the bed, one hand wrapped around her stomach, anxiously chewing on the thumbnail of her other hand. Sebastian went to her side and let her know he was there with a gentle touch on her back. She turned to him and offered a small smile. Guessing the source of her anxiety, Sebastian once again pulled her close. She let him, resting her head on his chest.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, softly, recognising the source of her anxiety. “I promise. None of this… This wasn’t because of the virus.”

Sebastian felt Lilith relax against him. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Hey,” Mendez said, rounding the corner. He stopped dead as Lilith and Sebastian both turned to face him. Sebastian’s arms dropped.

“I’m not… interrupting anything, am I?” Mendez asked, raising a brow at the pair.

Lilith rolled her eyes at him before shaking her head. Sebastian said nothing at all, turning instead to recover his shirt and put it on.

“Oh good. Dr. Liu is having some difficulty with the data recovery. He wanted me to let you know that it’ll be a bit longer yet. I suggest we should all get some more rest. God knows, we’re probably going to need it for the escape from this place. He doubts he’ll have what he needs until the morning, in any case.”

Sighing, Lilith signed. I should go help him.

Mendez nodded.

Get some sleep, Lilith continued. She turned and tapped Sebastian’s shoulder. You too. She pointed at the bed. Sleep.

Sebastian smiled slightly and nodded. He pulled himself up onto the bed and lay down as Lilith went to the chair and pulled the blankets that had been folded neatly atop it off. She shook one out and laid it onto Sebastian, who took over arranging it. As she passed his bed, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Lilith smiled at him then turned. She narrowed her eyes at the mischievous smile hovering at the corner of Mendez’ lips. She pointed at him accusatorially, then at the second bed in the room. Mendez tilted his head. “Yes, Ma’am.” He left the doorway and went to the bed, adjusting that various weapons he had strapped to his body to make himself a little more comfortable. He accepted the blanket from Lilith land then laid back, resting his rifle across his body.

Silence filled the room briefly when Lilith left. Mendez turned his head to address Sebastian, who was already falling asleep.

“So,” he asked. “Was it good?”

Sebastian’s eyes opened briefly before closing again. There was the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. “Mendez?” he mumbled.

“Mm?”

“Go to sleep.”

Mendez glanced over at Sebastian to find him smiling. He rumbled a soft laugh, then closed his eyes. They were both asleep in moments.

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