Deep Into The Well
An AU ficlet, from Angel season 5.
Deep Into The Well
It stretched across the world, destroying as it went. A new disease, cause unknown, with only one certainty: that an agonising death would be the end result. It began, without fanfare, in California, and moved slowly east, decimating cities. Vegas, Phoenix, Denver: all caught in its grasp. So much life extinguished.
They watched it happen, with stoic faces.
Dozens of scientists were soon at work trying to find a cure - none more dedicated than Winifred Burkle, physicist.
She worked in her lab for days on end, analysing data, compiling statistics, and still was at a complete loss. No common factors except location, and not even complete isolation in a sterile environment could prevent contagion. It was inexplicable.
Angel redirected funding into Practical Science from every department, and sent chinese food up at regular intervals.
Spike was a constant presence, helping with labwork, and listening to every frustration.
And neither of them told her the truth.
Every day more were taken, as it ripped into person after person, leaving only shredded remnants in its wake. It spread through Kansas, Illinois, and Kentucky, and Fred kept searching for an answer.
It never seemed to occur to her that the answer was right in front of her, helping her work - that the cause was bringing her coffee and urging her to get some rest.
It was ironic, in a way.
She had a map right in front of her, showing the affliction’s gradual spread - and not once did she notice the line stretching from start to eventual finish. Not once did she think back and wonder whether health might come with a price attached.
As the weeks turned into months, and New York fell to the infection, Fred stopped talking “cure” and started thinking about preventative measures, to stop a spread further south, or north, or back towards them.
They knew it was unnecessary, that the blight hadn’t deviated even an inch from its path, but even hinting at that would have raised questions. So they sat with innocent faces, helped her to form biohazard units, and kept silence.
It tore into everyone it reached, felling them like dominoes. Thousands died in gasping despair.
And while the world crumbled, they watched - still resolute. They had made their choice.
Fred saw the devastation and wept over all the loss, all the pain. But they knew better. She was stressed and upset, but she was alive. Working in her lab, solving the problems. Analysing the science. And loving them all.
And that made it all worthwhile.
Blood stained the streets.
But despite the cost, they knew they wouldn’t take it back, not for worlds.
After all, over the centuries the two of them had slaughtered millions. And Fred was alive and well, so all things considered, what was a few thousand more?
Deep Into The Well
It stretched across the world, destroying as it went. A new disease, cause unknown, with only one certainty: that an agonising death would be the end result. It began, without fanfare, in California, and moved slowly east, decimating cities. Vegas, Phoenix, Denver: all caught in its grasp. So much life extinguished.
They watched it happen, with stoic faces.
Dozens of scientists were soon at work trying to find a cure - none more dedicated than Winifred Burkle, physicist.
She worked in her lab for days on end, analysing data, compiling statistics, and still was at a complete loss. No common factors except location, and not even complete isolation in a sterile environment could prevent contagion. It was inexplicable.
Angel redirected funding into Practical Science from every department, and sent chinese food up at regular intervals.
Spike was a constant presence, helping with labwork, and listening to every frustration.
And neither of them told her the truth.
Every day more were taken, as it ripped into person after person, leaving only shredded remnants in its wake. It spread through Kansas, Illinois, and Kentucky, and Fred kept searching for an answer.
It never seemed to occur to her that the answer was right in front of her, helping her work - that the cause was bringing her coffee and urging her to get some rest.
It was ironic, in a way.
She had a map right in front of her, showing the affliction’s gradual spread - and not once did she notice the line stretching from start to eventual finish. Not once did she think back and wonder whether health might come with a price attached.
As the weeks turned into months, and New York fell to the infection, Fred stopped talking “cure” and started thinking about preventative measures, to stop a spread further south, or north, or back towards them.
They knew it was unnecessary, that the blight hadn’t deviated even an inch from its path, but even hinting at that would have raised questions. So they sat with innocent faces, helped her to form biohazard units, and kept silence.
It tore into everyone it reached, felling them like dominoes. Thousands died in gasping despair.
And while the world crumbled, they watched - still resolute. They had made their choice.
Fred saw the devastation and wept over all the loss, all the pain. But they knew better. She was stressed and upset, but she was alive. Working in her lab, solving the problems. Analysing the science. And loving them all.
And that made it all worthwhile.
Blood stained the streets.
But despite the cost, they knew they wouldn’t take it back, not for worlds.
After all, over the centuries the two of them had slaughtered millions. And Fred was alive and well, so all things considered, what was a few thousand more?