ataraxion | murder --7; voice

[Tate's walking down the hall, his communicator at his side. the video is on, so it flashes as he walks: the wall, his leg, the wall, his leg. it's dark, wherever he is. darker than the halls of the Passenger Quarters, lacking the glow of Engineering or the Shuttle Bay.]

It's like we've come to a new stage of our relationship, now we're talking. [it's as though he's been holding a conversation with someone and the comm started in the middle of it] But you know, I think that guy, you know the one, he needs something more poetic, like: There isn’t anyone to help you. Only me. And I’m the Beast... Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! ... You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you?

[he stops, for a second, and from the lowered angle you can see his other hand. his fingers drum against his leg, like he's anxious. blunted, bitten nails digging into the fabric of his jeans.]

You aren't afraid are you?

[he's walking again]

By the way, sorry about Hayden. She's kind of a bitch when she doesn't get laid, and I mean, you know how people can get on this ship. But next month is New Years, right? I think Hayley missed that. It should be one hell of a party. It's been two years since the first jump showed up. Not everyone has something back home, you know? Maybe some of you have crap to go back to, bullshit families and wives and kids. Jobs, like your lives even matter. But maybe this place isn't so bad. [his voice lowers, not quiet, just deeper:] Can't say this ship never gave you anything.

[then he stops again, all at once. it's darker than it was a second ago, like maybe he's standing beneath an awning. there's no movement for about five minutes, you can't even hear Tate breathing, and right before the video winks off he says:]

What's for dinner?

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I know.

[he says distantly, looking up. she's at the end of the hall, now. he follows after her.]

She'd have to be dead to do what she's doing. And Addie isn't dead.

[oddly, it sounds kind of like a threat. Addie couldn't be dead, she could not be dead.]

Then why're you following her?

She keeps running away from me. I think she wants to play.

[because it's better than the alternative; that she's scared of him]

Leave her alone.

[he draws up short. shifts his weight. tap tap tap.]

I don't want to.

Tate. [ it's harder now. something solid, a stone. ]

What?

[petulant, but he isn't moving. he watches her disappear around the corner.]

[ there are a few ways she could play this, but they all need some measure of calculation. Tate, Tate is easy. he hands her everything she needs, every secret code and key, every magic word. her voice quiets over the feed, something soft and sweet and at the very corner, nearly overlooked- a little fractured. ]

-I thought you wouldn't leave me.

[he turns his back immediately, brings the communicator up into both of his hands, cradling it between both.]

I won't. [he says, earnest, rushed] I'm not.

If you follow her, you won't come back.
That's how it works Tate, you know that.

But I can't leave. [he says, confused and sounding almost panicked.] I can't leave the property I can't--

[his grip tightens on the communicator, white knuckled, and he's quiet for a moment before he says thickly:] You really want me to stay?

[ there, she can feel it. the exact moment she's won, and it pools low, satisfaction in her stomach. got you. ]

Forever.

[he doesn't say anything, but the feed doesn't click off; like maybe he's waiting for something from her.]

Come to my room.

Okay.

murder --7; voice

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