Culpable
AUTHOR: Kate.
DISCLAIMER: NYPD Blue and its characters are Copyright Steven Bochco Productions and/or ABC. No copyright infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: To Kate
"No," was Diane's immediate reply. There was silence, and for a moment, she thought Harry had gone. What surprised her was the way her heart skipped a beat. "Harry?"
What?
Diane started and glanced out her window again.
"Oh. I just thought you had gone."
No, I didn't leave.
The silence stretched out, and for a while Diane felt like she had offended Harry in a way she couldn't understand. If he had truly been there, she would have sat him down and talked to him for hours, just so she could read his face.
Diane, you can talk with me.
"Great," she grumbled to herself. "You know Harry, this no-private thoughts thing is really annoying."
I know.
Diane smiled a little bit. The erieeness of the situation had yet to fully claim her mind, but the severity of it had.
Why don't you want to go down to Citi-Wide, if you're so eager to talk with me?
"That's different, Harry. That's you. This is probably me talking me talking to myself."
Diane, the human being doesn't have enough intellectual insight to peer into it's own soul, and if they did, they'd go insane instantly, so I doubt this is you examining your own problems.
"If that was supposed to be reassuring, it didn't work."
It wasn't supposed to be, because I'm not here to make you feel better, as much as you would like to think so.
"Right, you're here to make me reverse fate, and I don't even know what that fate is."
You didn't ask. If I recall, you just said, 'no,' and then got a little upset because you thought I'd left.
Diane blew out hot air.
"Shut up."
No, because you haven't done what I asked.
Diane ached to reach out and slap him so hard his head would spin.
You've already done that. Don't you think that we've hurt each other enough already?
Diane didn't answer.
A creature cloaked in white walked up the steps to the top of a stone temple, leading up further to a sort of throne room. The creature, upon closer inspection, a woman with bouncy brown curls and brown eyes, kneeled down in a bow.
"Merrian Diane," a voice boomed through the temple.
"Yes, m'lord?" Her voice was a soft, husky whisper.
"How are we with Denby?"
"Not that well, sire. Our subject isn't cooperating as well as we would have hoped."
"What do you think we should do?"
"Give it time, my child. Your Denby will turn her, I know he will."
Merrian Diane hung her head and hoped that his lordship was right, for if Denby failed, it could mean the end of so much.
Screams awoke Diane, hollow and pain-filled. She clutched the blanket to her and listened to them, mournful and heartbreaking, until she realized she was the one emitting them. Sorrowful tears slid wet paths down her cheeks and landed softly onto the sheet she held around herself. She pulled that sheet even tighter, as if she could protect herself from them.
Sobbing, her head fell down, and she clenched her eyes shut as tight as she could, trying to erase the image of Bobby, in her dreams, dying as he had, what seemed so long ago. The image, as much as she hated it, was one of the last clear images she had of him, so she shoved it back into a corner of her mind.
For a long while, everything was silent. There was nothing said from the rowdy neighbors across the hall. The solitary moment was deafeningly painful, so she sobbed again, wanting to do anything that would make her feel less alone. The sound of her own bitter voice made her jump in her skin.
"Why?" Her eyes blinked several times, and she drew herself up into a ball. "Why??" She was louder this time, asking the question in a voice that could not be denied, if it was ever heard. "Why did you leave me?" Now, she was screaming again.
Why, why, why, why, why, why Bobby?, her mind screamed over and over again until she was sick of the sound of it. "Why," she screamed out loud, the pain now so evident in her being that it coursed through her in cruel, hot waves. "Why did you leave me?"
She drew in a shaky, sob-filled breath, and with another scream, let it out. "Why did you leave me all alone, Harry!!!??" It was a high, distorted screech. The name that passed through her lips ripped a wound in her stomach, and she bent over, mouth open with an unheard scream.
Baby, you're never alone.
The words, spoke so sweetly and with such sorrow, only served for Diane's whole mental world to crash over her in dark, fierce waves, and the whole world was dark for long, long minutes. When the waves lifted off of her still form, she knew she was not that far from crazy. She came almost totally and completely into that other world, that other place, but some shred of light still grabbed it's firm hand around her ankle and dragged her back to the safety of sanity. She slept.
Somewhere, down streets and past houses, lay a sleeping form named Denby, alone and shuddering sobs into his crumpled pillow. He saw in his dreams, a siren with brown curls and rich, chocolate eyes, drowning in the water, the pain, that flowed out of his open heart in steady streams. He, too, felt the tide of hurt wash over him, but, like Diane, someone, or something, drew their sword and severed the ties. We can only watch and pray that they will both remain unharmed.
They had sorrowful statement, those who watched. These poor souls were writhing in agony over life, and there was nothing they could do. It was their job to spy; they would not stop, else their existance would have no purpose. There were whispers among the group, moans of pity and agreement. The man let out a perticulurly loud tortured bellow of pain in his sleep, a general outcry arose from the din.
"We should do something," shouted one.
Some nodded, other's shook their heads sadly; it was out of their hands.
"Yes! Our fate lies in their hands!" Some were more concerned with their own impending doom then with the angst of the mortals.
"We must trust those doing the job, Neesha, and not interefere, even if we can." A hushed silence followed the words, and all hung their heads and hoped for the best.
Continued in Part 5.
