This is the start of a story I've been working on for a while. It takes place several months after Tom has been released from the cage and deals with the after-effects of what happened to him.
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Disclaimer: This original story is not authorized or endorsed by Warner Bros, ABC, Lors Thornwald Inc, Edelson Productions, William Schmidt, or anyone else having rights to "Prey". It is not intended infringe on any rights or copyright and is not written for profit. Any characters not recognizable from the series "Prey" belong to the author.
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"Hello ... Walter? Hi" Sloan walked to the window to look out. "You're just down the street? ... Yes, he's here ... OK, I'll ask him". Sloan cupped her hand over the receiver and called to Tom. "It's Walter, he says he needs to talk to you - he's practically right outside. Is it OK if he stops by for a minute?"
"Sure."
Actually, Tom would have agreed to any kind of interruption. Sloan had decided that it was time to explore his imagination, despite his insistence that he didn't have one, and as a 'test', she forced him to sit through some space movie - "Star ... something-or-other". He watched computer-generated images that made no sense to him until he thought he couldn't watch another moment. Then, the phone rang. As Sloan got up, he reached for the remote and shut off the VCR. Yes, he thought, even Walter would be a welcomed relief.
"He said it was OK, Walter .. come on over."
Sloan hung up the phone and walked over to Tom, shaking her head. She took the remote out of his hand and put it on top of the TV.
"I see you wasted no time in turning off the video." She said, mimicking him by raising an eyebrow.
Tom had wanted to say something but thought the better of it. He really didn't want to get involved in that discussion again.
"So, why does Walter want to see me?" he asked instead.
"He didn't say but you can ask him yourself - I think I hear him downstairs now." Tom looked toward the door and nodded in agreement. The expected knock came a few seconds later and Sloan let Walter in.
"Sloan ... Tom. Sorry for the intrusion at this hour," apologized Walter as he walked into the room.
"Why don't you sit down, Walter," said Sloan motioning to one of the large chairs near the door. "Coffee?"
"Yes ... Thank you." Walter settled into the chair and then accepted the cup that Sloan brought him, waiting for her to curl up next to Tom on the loveseat before he continued.
"I just received a very important phone call that I think you both should know about."
"Who was this phone call from?" asked Sloan.
"Mark Ward, my old contact from the coexistence faction."
"Mark Ward?" Tom wrinkled his brow, "I thought you said he was dead."
"I said I thought Mark was dead....,but, I'm happy to say, I was mistaken .... and, he has found his way back into the coexistence movement. Now they seem quite anxious to work with us especially since he was able to convince them that we, ... or rather, that I, wasn't working for the government any more."
"So where do I fit in? I've never met with any of them. It was you and Ray who did."
"That may be true, but, since they can't work through our government at this point, considering that my boss, ... ex-boss, orchestrated the attack on them, the faction needs to take a different approach. That approach is you, Tom. If you're interested."
"Aren't they afraid to have a chameleon work with their organization?" asked Tom. He knew that would have avoided his kind like the plague. In fact, Tom was quite sure that's why Mark hadn't asked him to be at that meeting with Walter, despite the fact that knowledge of his defection was widespread. "I'm surprised they don't think I had something to do with the assassination."
"They could've found out later that you had taken the serum that day and were in no condition to do anything." said Sloan.
"Maybe ..." Tom said as he got off the couch and paced a little. "But what do we really know about Mark. Maybe he was behind the whole thing. After all, he survived the attack despite being out in the open."
"That could have been the assassin's plan, to throw suspicion on Mark. Before he disappeared, Mark told me he was a marked man, just as I was." offered Walter.
"That's right - discredit Mark and you discredit his organization." said Sloan, motioning for Tom to sit down. Her eyes were getting tired watching his pacing back and forth.
"Could be ... So, what exactly do they want me to do." Tom sat down but he still wasn't convinced. He knew he would have to investigate Mark and his organization for himself.
"At this point in time, Mark seems to feel that they need to deal with the United Nations directly. There is a UN aide who is willing to discuss coexistence but only if you agree to be there."
"Me? Tom appeared amused. "Don't they think a meeting of this sort is a little out of my league? I'm not a diplomat - I wasn't trained for this sort of negotiation."
"That's right, besides Tom isn't ready to ..." Tom shot Sloan a look that said 'let's hear this out first' and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Sloan sat back and left her comment unfinished for the moment.
"They know that, Tom and that's not what they are expecting from you. Another agent will handle the actual negotiations. What they do need is information on Lewis and the chameleon program. They expect that their greatest opposition will come from there and your knowledge would be invaluable to them if this should come down to war."
Tom found himself slowly nodding in agreement. This made sense to him and it was an area he knew more about than anyone else in the underground. And, he thought, they were probably right about Lewis - he would never sit by and let coexistence happen without a fight.
At the mention of Lewis, Sloan sensed a change in Tom's attitude that she didn't like. It was as though a gauntlet had been flung at his feet, ... a challenge, that he was powerless to resist.
"I think this could be too dangerous for Tom. If Lewis finds out what's going on, it could bring Tom into a confrontation with him - again. And who knows what hold Lewis still has on ...."
Sloan's words froze in her throat as Tom turned his head sharply and silenced her with a piercing look - a look that sent the chill in her throat down to her feet. Reluctantly she stopped herself but her body language clearly showed how annoyed she was that Tom had cut her out of the conversation for a second time. There had better not be a third time, she thought. Tom raised an eyebrow slightly at her and she knew he had gotten her message. With a slight shake of his head, he again turned his attention to Walter.
"When can I meet this other agent, Walter?"
"Tomorrow. His name is Stephen Hart - ever hear of him?"
Tom shook his head no.
"Well, you'll get your chance to ask him any questions you want. Then you can make up your own mind about him."
"Just be sure to tell Mark Ward that I want to do a Level One clearance on this agent when we meet or else I won't agree to anything." Tom knew that this was the only way to discover who and what Stephen Hart really was, without going through lengthy cross-examinations. If time was of the essense, then they had to be sure as quickly as possible - now was not the time to start making mistakes. One bad call could be the end of everything.
"Mark thought you might ask for that, ... whatever that is, and he said that Stephen is willing to comply. In fact, Mark said he'll agree to any other precautions you may deem necessary to ensure that this goes as expected. Believe me, they are just as concerned for their safety as we are of ours. And, just as eager for this alliance between us and them to happen."
"Assuming all goes well, when do we meet with this aide?"
"Right away, Tom."
Sloan felt this was moving just a little too fast. Walter appeared to have everything, including Mark's responses, worked out ahead of time and Tom was being too agreeable considering his earlier concerns. Now he was willing to go who knows where with an agent he didn't know from Adam.
"Right away, Walter? It doesn't seem like we've had much time to think this out.?" This time Sloan refused to be intimidated by Tom's "looks".
"Sloan, you're right, it is all happening fast. But, either we act now, or lose this opportunity. I don't think we can afford to do that. Right now we have an aide at the UN willing to meet with us. Next week, he may not be. That's why Tom and Stephen will be taking a plane to New York right after their meeting, assuming Tom approves him."
"Tomorrow? To New York? Tom will be going with someone none of us really knows? I don't think that's a good idea, Walter. It's not safe for him. I don't think he's fully recovered yet and ... "
"Yes, I am ... I'm fine," interrupted Tom, "What time tomorrow?
Tom could feel Sloan's eyes pleading with him to reconsider this and he struggled to block the outpouring of emotions that ranged from anger to fear that washed over him. Their intensity was overwhelming and he had to avoid making eye contact with her in order to keep his attention focused on Walter.
Walter paused as he saw the unspoken dynamics occurring between Tom and Sloan. He knew they needed to talk about this privately and get it resolved. Tom's presence was mandatory for these negotiations to go forward and Sloan needed to let go of him - at least for a while.
"We'll start by meeting in my office at 9 AM tomorrow morning. I'm going to call Ed and Ray when I leave here and ask that they be there as well. If all goes as planned, we should be able to meet with Stephen Hart sometime around noon." Walter stood up to go. "Well, that's it for now .... No, Tom, don't get up. I can let myself out. I'll see you both in my office tomorrow. Good night."
Once Walter left, Tom turned to look at Sloan and allowed his face to reflect the determination that he felt inside. "Look, I have to do this. We've all been saying for months now how we wished something would open up for us. Well, here it is - our first opportunity to get somewhere, to work again toward coexistence. Isn't that what you want?"
"Yes, Tom, I do. And I am just as excited as you and Walter are that Mark has contacted us again. It's just ... I'm concerned about you ..."
"Don't be - I'll be alright. I'm fine."
"Tom, I know you think you're fine but I don't think you're up to this emotionally."
Tom managed a small smile. "I don't have much in the way of emotions, Sloan. Remember?"
"You and I both know that's not exactly true. I've seen the changes that come over you whenever we talk about the prison , ... about the cage - the distant looks, the tension in your face, ... The others may not notice these things, but I do. I think what you had to endure is consuming you inside. Why can't you just admit it?"
"Sloan, there is nothing to admit. And, as far as I'm concerned, whatever I went through is over. I don't have a need to talk about it the way you do. I'm fine." He punctuated "fine" with a raise of his eyebrow. "I just need to work, instead of sitting around here watching TV all the time. I need to be productive." Tom noticed the hurt expression that appeared on Sloan's face.
"So, all these months that we've spent together, getting you well, getting to know each other, - you think all of that was unproductive?"
"No.... Sloan, you know that's not true. I know what it took to release me, to ..." he hesitated slightly, still uncomfortable with the thought, " ... care for me. And I have enjoyed being with you ...." Tom reached up to gently stroke her cheek and allowed a slight sketch of a smile to draw itself across his mouth, "but, ... I need to do more ... "
"I'm not saying that you shouldn't do anything - I just think this is too much, too fast ... I don't think you're ready."
"Not ready? This is what I was trained to do - what I was programmed for. What could I do, if not this?"
"You could advise."
"Advise? Advise who? Who could I possibly send in who would be better qualified than me at this point - you? Ed? Ray? ... or maybe someone I don't know from Mark's group?"
The direction this conversation was going was beginning to irritate Tom. What did Sloan really know about this anyway. She knew nothing about the chameleon program and he had taught her all she knew about Lewis, except for that one brief encounter she had with him. Why was she questioning him now?
"I don't know exactly who ... I just know that you are not ready - and you won't be until you come to grips what has been torturing your mind ..."
"Torturing my mind? Nothing is torturing my mind, except doing nothing." Tom knew this was a lie. "I need to get involved, I need to get my mind off of .... , I need to get my mind working again. That's what I need."
"No, Tom, I'm sure your mind is already working ... on overtime. What you need to start doing is to work ... on your mind."
"Sloan .... stop...."
He found himself practically begging her to stop as her words grated against his nerves. "I'm fine. All I need is for you to believe that .... " He held both her hands in his, his eyes searching hers for a moment of respite from this. "I can take care of myself."
"I want to believe that, Tom ... but I can't." she said as she tore her eyes away from his searching look. "What if something triggers a flashback while you're away. None of us will be there to help you work through it."
"What 'flashbacks' are you talking about?"
"The ones you have in your sleep. The ones that seem to torment you almost every night. Do you think I can't hear you from the bedroom just because you're in here on the couch?"
When was she going to stop this he asked himself? The words began to blur together and her voice had become a steady drone in his brain. He felt an odd trembling start in the pit of his stomach and seemed powerless to control it. For once, he wished Sloan would just e quiet. He felt she was pushing him - pushing him toward an edge that he had avoided all these months. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope that she would drop this tack she was on but found none. Her persistence engulfed him and he knew this time, she would not give in.
"Drop this, Sloan. I'm telling you - I can handle this."
"No Tom, you can't ... you can't even handle this conversation we're having. Look at you - you're starting to perspire."
Tom touched his forehead and found that it was damp. This wasn't like him. Sloan knew it ... and he knew it. But, he couldn't admit his weakness - not to her; it was hard enough to admit it to himself.
For his species, 'survival' and 'weakness' did not go hand in hand. Weakness meant death. He had to overcome this problem on his own or he wouldn't be able to survive. Accepting help would only make him weaker, or at least, that's what he thought ... Besides, he felt he had to be strong for the rest of them - be that person they had come to depend on to protect them, ... to protect Sloan. He was the only dominant they could truly trust. Without him to screen anyone they met, they all could become easy prey. They needed him - he was their safety net and he knew that they needed to know he was always there for them.
He never spoke about his experience in the cage or what they had done to him for this reason. He tried, and almost succeeded, in convincing them that he had been able to at least shield his mind, if not his body, from their abuse. And in doing so, he had also convinced himself that he could overcome this 'weakness' - that he could handle the images and fears that his mind conjured up without warning. Maybe, with time, he could even rid himself of them completely. He had been sure that his secret was safe - until now.
Sloan knew. He realized now that she had probably always known. Now he was exposed and he couldn't deal with it.
Tom stood up and started to pace back and forth again. "Sloan, I'm not used to confrontations like this. Can't we just stop and put it to rest for a while?" He took a deep breath and even managed a brief smile. "Maybe we can finish watching the video..."
"You don't even like that video. Please, Tom, .... let's get this problem resolved. We can work it out together." Sloan walked to him and reached out to touch his arm but he withdrew it from her.
"I do not have a problem!" He turned to her with a warning glare as he felt his patience waning.
"Tom, ... then why are you losing your temper?" This is not going well at all, she thought. Maybe she should have stopped when he begged her ....
"I am not losing my ... it's just that you're ..." Tom winced and squeezed his temples with his hand. She was cornering him, giving him no way out. All this talk of weakness was perceived as a danger to his survival and he felt his instincts start to take over. He found himself forcibly restraining himself from acting out the scenario they were compelling him to take. He felt his chest begin to constrict.
"Enough of this!" He slammed his hand down on the dining room table and looked at Sloan through granite eyes ..... with the same eyes she had seen the night he almost killed Lisa, and she had screamed for him to stop. He saw Sloan take a step back from him and her eyes widen. A feeling of fear swept over him - not his ... but Sloan's. He felt himself react to that fear but held back the natural desire that rose in him ... to treat Sloan like prey. No, not Sloan. Not Sloan. When his eyes once again were able to bring her into focus, he knew he had made a mistake - he had crossed that line that went from trust to fear. He realized that he could have quite easily hurt her if he had he not held himself back. His mind knew she was only trying to help him, to force him to accept the fact that he still needed to heal. But, rather than admit that, he wanted to silence her, .. to hurt her ... He had to reassure her that she was in no danger, that he would never hurt her, but the words would not come for him. All he could do was soften his eyes and plead with them silently for her forgiveness. He put his hand out to her, expecting her to accept him back and understand his outburst. But, instead, she just shook her head, went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Once within the safety of the bedroom, Sloan covered her face with her hands but she was still shaking. Deep down she knew Tom would not hurt her, yet that look he gave her, the intensity of it and the underlying rage that she forgot was part of his make-up gave her a scare that she knew was not going to depart easily. She had never seen him react to her in this way. She just did not know how to help him anymore. She needed time to think. But one thing she did know, she couldn't deal with him tonight and, for the first time since they bonded to each other, she wished he would leave.
On the other side of the door, Tom just stood helpless. The person he most cared about in life had put a barrier up between them and he had no idea how to remove it. He and Sloan had had arguments in the past - she, always offering him her help and understanding, and him, always denying and rejecting it. But, they were never this extreme and he had never lost his temper with her.
The funny thing, he thought, as if there was anything humorous in what had just happened, was that he actually felt like he was becoming a little more human by his intimate association with Sloan and the others, but now he realized how wrong he was. His instincts were merely sleeping under the surface, ready to awaken if he ever lost control, .... like tonight. For the first time in a long while, he became painfully aware of how different he really was from her. Yes, he was different and he didn't dare ignore that fact any longer..... Suddenly, he felt alone - again.
He could sense that Sloan wanted him to leave, but he couldn't go with out making a last attempt to speak with her. He touched the bedroom door lightly with his hand, then gave a slight turn on the knob. It was locked. Somehow, he knew it would be. He could easily have broken it, but he'd made enough mistakes for one night. Instead, he leaned his forehead on the door and called gently to Sloan, savoring the taste of her name in his mouth, as though he never wanted to forget the flavor of it.
"Sloan, .... I'm sorry." He waited, hoping for a response. When it came, it offered him no solace.
"I'm sorry, too, Tom."
But Tom knew that her "sorry" did not carry the same connotation as his. He did not expect her to unlock the door ... not tonight. He took a deep breath and bowed his head. He leaned against the door for another moment but he knew it was time to go - he felt no forgiveness from Sloan - not tonight. He caressed her one last time with his mind and wrapped her memory in his heart. Then, he took his coat out of the closet, threw it over his arm, and walked out of the apartment ....
He never knew that, just a moment after he had left, Sloan had unlocked the bedroom door. He never heard her call "Tom?" or saw her sink into the chair that Walter recently had vacated, and begin to weep quietly when she realized that he had gone. He saw nothing but the blackness of night and heard only the aching beat of his own heart. And, once again, he knew loneliness.
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Tom sat up suddenly in bed and realized he had dreamed - again. He tried to grasp at the elusive images that had filled his mind not a moment ago, but they proved to be as fleeting as the shadows now dissolving in the corners of the room at the approach of sunrise. Why could he never remember them? They haunted him nearly every night. Remnants of memory surrounded him like shrouded phantoms floating just beyond his reach, only to return unbidden to whisper terrifying half-secrets in his ears. Secrets that he was never allowed to remember. And when the visions had passed; when the last hushed words had been spoken through ghostly lips, all that was left was fear - the fear that they would return again when he fell asleep.
He needed Sloan. Last night was the worst yet. She was his touchstone, his center. When everything else seemed to be spinning out of control, her presence alone could steady him.
"Sloan?" he called. There was no response. Then he remembered - he left her last night and came home - to his own place. He didn't want to leave but he knew he had to - Sloan had wanted him to go.
The pain of separation from her, now overlayed with the remains of his latest nightmares, was almost too much to bear. He did not understand all these feelings, let alone how to handle them.
Sloan had once told him that there was nothing wrong in feeling emotions, and he had gained some experience with them while under the influence of the serum but he was not prepared for this. It took extreme circumstances to bring them out in him. The torture, the unspeakable things that they did to him ..... were responsible for the present condition of his mind.
Lewis had trained him to endure torture - but, having been weakened by the serum, his endurance had been short-lived. His psyche had cracked and long-suppressed emotions flooded over him unrestrained - to wreak their havoc on his unprepared mind. He needed to learn how to control them - to "put the genie back in the bottle", so to speak, and, to do it on his own. His only problem was that he didn't know how. But he would have to learn - and fast.
One thing he did know was that there would be no more sleep for him this night. He might as well get up and start to get ready for the day's meeting. He knew he had to be in total control before he got there. He had to be prepared to accept whatever Sloan's reaction would be to him and he had to keep his guard up when he met with Stephen. Stephen would be able to detect any weakness on his part and would make their "partnership" unacceptable.
To pull this off, Tom decided, he would have to prepare himself again as a chameleon. He focused his mind on this objective, stretched himself out on the bed, and began to run through the mental exercises that he had learned from Lewis .....