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[palermo] In which Alec has issues with getting too close.
[Set in a verse that doesn’t have a name yet, if it gets one at all. Just something that he wouldn’t shut up about.]
A job was a job was a job.
He had learned early on that Manticore doesn’t care who they hurt, they just care who’s footing the bill. They had taught him that lesson the hard way with Rachel . He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, so he followed his orders to the letter, killed who he needed to kill, and made sure it looked like Manticore was earning their bottom line. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was what it was, and it was better than him being dead. This Covenant job, though—he wasn’t so sure about ends justifying the means here.
First of all, there was this Rambaldi guy. 494 wasn’t sure why people were taking their cues from a guy who had been dead since before there was modern science, but apparently he was all the rage and these Covenant guys wanted whatever shit he had built. In fact, they wanted it bad. Now, as far as 494 was concerned, he was just there to do a job and do it well, and more to the point, he didn’t really care what they were after. Getting interested in their work would just get him into trouble, and while he would admit he was curious as all get-out about what it was exactly they were up to, he wasn’t about to jeopardize the mission. That wasn’t smart. All he really could do was stay away from the CIA and not attract any undue attention.
That was really fucking hard when it came to Lauren.
He didn’t trust her husband as far as he could throw him, and being a goddamn X5, he could throw him pretty far. However, that didn’t mean he could interfere. She was just doing her job, after all, and unfortunately, Vaughn was her job. And even after her cover was blown, he could see it on her face. This hurt her. She had gotten far too close. He knew that pain a lot more than he would care to admit, but he didn’t say anything. He just kept his head down and killed his job. And if he would have to take a little more pleasure in taking out her husband for getting in their way, well—that was his business. He didn’t trust Sark, either, but that was a whole other ballgame. It was completely irrelevant to the fact that he could smell him all over her and he didn’t even have to get close. He liked to consider himself an expert in the ways a person could be used and he knew that Sark wasn’t in it for what was likely really awesome sex or that he happened to care about Lauren’s well being. Sark only did things that would make Sark feel better about himself. And, apparently, he had a huge hate-on for Michael Vaughn.
He didn’t know why he was so protective of her. He knew better. He knew better than to get involved and he knew better than to get attached. At the end of the day, the Covenant was going to get what the Covenant wanted, and then he would go back to Manticore like it never happened. Getting involved or attached to Lauren was just going to be a pain in the ass later. Then again, she was the only one who actually called him Alec, as oppose to 494. Maybe he was a little sentimental. It was a name Max had given to him a long time ago, and no one else had ever used it, but she had at least made the attempt to treat him like a person. None of the other Covenant actives were quite so kind.
Not that he was a person. Just nice to be treated like one sometime.
He was in the pit when Vaughn and Bristow showed. They had him micromanaging the archaeologists to make sure they didn’t off each other again when he heard the sound of two people beating the hell out of each other. He didn’t interfere at first. He should have, it probably would have saved a few people a lot of pain and suffering, but his orders were to stay away from the CIA. Not following orders was worse than other people’s pain and suffering. At the pop of the gun, however, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach that something was wrong. When Lauren’s body dropped over the edge of the shaft, it only took him a nanosecond to be in place to catch her.
He could smell the blood and the lead, and mixed in with her own natural scent and it made him nauseous. But he swallowed it down, bracing her against his leg as he looked over the bullet wounds. There were … too many. Too many for him to patch up on his own. Too many for him to clean up without some kind of help. That wasn’t a good sign, at all. But this was manageable. This he could make work. He just needed time. Time, a rubber tube, and a needle. He could save her. She wouldn’t be another Rachel.
And if it meant not following orders, for once in his very short life? So be it.
879 words
A job was a job was a job.
He had learned early on that Manticore doesn’t care who they hurt, they just care who’s footing the bill. They had taught him that lesson the hard way with Rachel . He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, so he followed his orders to the letter, killed who he needed to kill, and made sure it looked like Manticore was earning their bottom line. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was what it was, and it was better than him being dead. This Covenant job, though—he wasn’t so sure about ends justifying the means here.
First of all, there was this Rambaldi guy. 494 wasn’t sure why people were taking their cues from a guy who had been dead since before there was modern science, but apparently he was all the rage and these Covenant guys wanted whatever shit he had built. In fact, they wanted it bad. Now, as far as 494 was concerned, he was just there to do a job and do it well, and more to the point, he didn’t really care what they were after. Getting interested in their work would just get him into trouble, and while he would admit he was curious as all get-out about what it was exactly they were up to, he wasn’t about to jeopardize the mission. That wasn’t smart. All he really could do was stay away from the CIA and not attract any undue attention.
That was really fucking hard when it came to Lauren.
He didn’t trust her husband as far as he could throw him, and being a goddamn X5, he could throw him pretty far. However, that didn’t mean he could interfere. She was just doing her job, after all, and unfortunately, Vaughn was her job. And even after her cover was blown, he could see it on her face. This hurt her. She had gotten far too close. He knew that pain a lot more than he would care to admit, but he didn’t say anything. He just kept his head down and killed his job. And if he would have to take a little more pleasure in taking out her husband for getting in their way, well—that was his business. He didn’t trust Sark, either, but that was a whole other ballgame. It was completely irrelevant to the fact that he could smell him all over her and he didn’t even have to get close. He liked to consider himself an expert in the ways a person could be used and he knew that Sark wasn’t in it for what was likely really awesome sex or that he happened to care about Lauren’s well being. Sark only did things that would make Sark feel better about himself. And, apparently, he had a huge hate-on for Michael Vaughn.
He didn’t know why he was so protective of her. He knew better. He knew better than to get involved and he knew better than to get attached. At the end of the day, the Covenant was going to get what the Covenant wanted, and then he would go back to Manticore like it never happened. Getting involved or attached to Lauren was just going to be a pain in the ass later. Then again, she was the only one who actually called him Alec, as oppose to 494. Maybe he was a little sentimental. It was a name Max had given to him a long time ago, and no one else had ever used it, but she had at least made the attempt to treat him like a person. None of the other Covenant actives were quite so kind.
Not that he was a person. Just nice to be treated like one sometime.
He was in the pit when Vaughn and Bristow showed. They had him micromanaging the archaeologists to make sure they didn’t off each other again when he heard the sound of two people beating the hell out of each other. He didn’t interfere at first. He should have, it probably would have saved a few people a lot of pain and suffering, but his orders were to stay away from the CIA. Not following orders was worse than other people’s pain and suffering. At the pop of the gun, however, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach that something was wrong. When Lauren’s body dropped over the edge of the shaft, it only took him a nanosecond to be in place to catch her.
He could smell the blood and the lead, and mixed in with her own natural scent and it made him nauseous. But he swallowed it down, bracing her against his leg as he looked over the bullet wounds. There were … too many. Too many for him to patch up on his own. Too many for him to clean up without some kind of help. That wasn’t a good sign, at all. But this was manageable. This he could make work. He just needed time. Time, a rubber tube, and a needle. He could save her. She wouldn’t be another Rachel.
And if it meant not following orders, for once in his very short life? So be it.
879 words