open | prompt five | ENDINGS

[wrens]

prompt five | E N D I N G S dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

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Brandon Clarke, formerly YORK | the order: DECOMMISSIONED

[castledown]

[Once upon a time, Brandon Clarke had thought he was invincible. He had been six at the time, and every six year old boy thinks they're invincible, especially those with little sisters to protect. That was a long time ago, and he knows the extent of humanity. He's so very human, and no human being is invincible.

But then he was. For a short amount of time he was, even if he can't remember it now. That's how he reminds himself that he's not losing it, after all. Because he can think that no one is invincible and he knows deep down that it's not true. He had been invincible once, maybe.

But not anymore. Now he's got a target on his back and no shield to cover it. He can run, and he has, but he can't really hide. He's spoken to too many people, become the face of something new, the one who starts people scratching at something taken away from them, a scab where something bigger once was, and there's no hiding now.

He's not invincible, he's only human.]

[quietness]

[ Their lives have lost all sense of stability — the result of Brandon's slow spiral sideways and then down, into a state of both knowing and unknowing, of both subconscious memory and conscious forgetfulness, the terrible result of one botched decommission.

The only sense of consistency can be found in one another. Those moments of waking in an unfamiliar hotel room, followed by panic and the quick turn over, followed then by relief. A silent thank god, you're still here. In the beginning, it had been more than enough, had been able to carry the brunt of all of their uncertainty. But the more they pull back the curtain, the more they reveal what lies beneath the blank space of their minds, the more stress it's forced to bear and the less tolerance it has left until breaking.

They've changed motels again for the third time this week and Hallah is out smoking on the balcony moodily, her body silhouetted by the frame of the sliding door. ]

You're going to get us killed, [ she says.

Hallah has never been invincible; she has always been human. And she's always called things as she sees them and this one fact is more or less undeniable now. ]

[castledown]

[Safety first, mum always said. Carry bandages around for Taisa in case she trips again, falls right on her face again. Don't run too fast, look both ways before crossing, don't open the door for strangers.

That's just bollocks, though, isn't it? If safety came first, then nothing would ever get done. There's more to life than just keeping yourself safe, after all. It was why he kept going with this mess. After the curiosity and the digging, after finding out that something was very wrong, he couldn't just sit there and let it continue. People had to know, history had to be recorded, problems could not be left to repeat themselves. If someone had erased the second world war, or the crusades, or the death of the roman republic, then those mistakes would just happen again. It was irresponsible, not to keep pushing.

He'd never been the brave one. Taisa had been the first to jump into things, he'd always been the one holding her back, telling her to think it through. If she could see him now, wouldn't she have a laugh. After giving him a smack first. It is brave though, and he's shaking. As he sits on the motel bed, his feet still, his hands wrung together clenching and releasing, he's shaking. It's brave and he's not brave, and he doesn't need to be told that bravery gets people killed more often than not. He glances over at Hallah on the balcony and the guilt creeps back in. He's going to die for what's right, but he doesn't need to drag people down with him. It's why it's just them now. The others had scattered, for the most part.]

You don't have to stay with me.