Tea felt tears in his face, it hurt. The restraints dug into his skin like needles into his skin. The cruel eyes of Site Director Hobbs glared at him from behind the glass in another room. Behind the pain, Tea felt remorse. Maybe if he hadn’t been so brash he could have done something to fix this. Maybe if he considered that visions could be faked. He hung his head and cried.
There was to be no stay if execution, no trial. The rest of his people were not even aware he was gone. They slept peacefully in their beds awaiting a raid the next day. Tea didn’t want this. Tea wanted to be normal, boring, more than ever before. He wanted to curl up with Skipper and read a book, not even knowing what was going on on the outside.
He wished his visions were just seizures, he wished his hospital visits actually fixed things. He wished he had never met them in the first-. No. Tea liked them, they had been his best friends for the last 10 Years. he would do just about anything for them.
Even die, he thought, watching as the people walked into the room. He knew what was about to happen. He knew he was going to die. Tea desperately wanted Galaxii to show up with her teleportation and get him out of here, or for John Snyder to break in and cause a ruckus.
None of that was to happen tonight, Tea realized, as the people walked closer until he felt nearly claustrophobic. He didn’t want to die here, he wanted to die out in the open, in the trees and amongst the fields he called home, on the docks where the boats sailed. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to get away from there.
“POI 4487 termination underway, please stand by for cadaver pick up.” The cold voice of Site Director Michel Hobbs echoes through the room. Tea shivered. The man that was his judge, jury, and executioner stood behind a thin pane of glass. If circumstances were different maybe they would have been friends, given all they had alike. He gave a pleading look to the man. Hobbs averted his eyes. Tea let out a trembling sigh, averting his eyes from the man as well. Focusing on his breathing.
The people put their hands on his skin and pain blossomed under his skin. It grew and grew until-
He could feel nothing but burning agony and fear. He gasped and tried to suck in air. Begging, pleading for help. Tea screamed, it hurt oh god it hurt nonononononono-
Suddenly he was seeing a beach.
The pain was merely an echo. He stood up, feeling the sand between his toes and the wild in his hair. The sound of waves and grass in the wild drowning out his fear. Crystal crescent, his childhood and the place that brought him the most comfort. He let out a breathy sigh, this was nice.
Screams echoed through the room.
“More, press more”
Site Director Hobbs said into the mic, watching silently as the teen struggled. This wasn’t pleasant, he turned his head away from the sight. He didn’t enjoy executing anomalies, but had accepted it as a part of life at the new foundation. His fingers ran over the blotches on his skin, trying not to think of the hypocrisy of the situation. The man screamed louder, and Hobbs closed his eyes, holding back tears. There was no point in showing weakness.
Tea smiled, sitting on the dock with his feet in the water, Skipper on his lap. The water was very blue today. The pain behind his eyelids increased, and he winced. Thankfully it disappeared as fast as it came. He yawned, he was starting to feel a bit tired. Tea stood up, walking to the long grass and laying down in it, looking up at the clouds. It was warm, very warm. It felt like a summer in which the thing you did was nothing. He smiled, another glimpse of his childhood. Winnie the pooh. Heh, that seemed childish looking back.
He looked up at the clouds in the sky, making patterns and finding shapes. Skipper lay on his chest now, and he peacefully closed his eyes, falling into a deep slumber.
Tea’s seizing and screaming abruptly stopped, his body shivering slightly on the table before going limp. Smoke poured from his mouth, a deep bitter smell filled the room. Brain function had ceased after ten minutes of agonizing screams.
Hobbs felt something inside of him. A sense that what he had done wasn’t right. For awhile he wondered why. This person, although a child to him, had jeopardized security for years. He was right to order his death. Tea reminded him of himself. He had tried to gain rights for himself in a world where he was told he was an issue, a thing that needed correction. Hobbs should have seen t, seen the damage he was doing. But it was too late, there was no escape for him now.
On that day Site Director Michel Hobbs cries for the first time in years. He realized what he had become, the very thing he had hated years before. He felt shame, so much shame, what would Winters think of him now? He sure as hell wouldn't love what that spunky young man had turned into. An old grizzled monster who killed innocents. He sobbed, clutching his locket like a lifeline. He called Bright, and Bright shared his tired eyes and broken expression. Hobbs felt torn apart, and that was the day Hobbs put a gun to his head, gazed at the stars, and shot himself. That’s how Bright found him, on the same roof Hobbs and Winters had sat on many years before. After an emergency flight to the Site. Broken and fallen apart. Bright at that moment had never felt so alone in his life.
He made a decision, and decided to drop his ring into the flames of Mordor. Or rather, the amulet into a volcano. He felt something leave him abruptly, like the wind being knocked out of him. He smiled, hoping that was a good sign. He pulled out the same gun Hobbs had used, pulled out a picture of his family, gave them a soft smile. Maybe it was time for a new world, one absent of relics like himself and Hobbs. He pulled out a picture of Hobbs and his family as well. Thinking about how his family had grown. He sighed, smiling a little, sitting alone in that garden. He ended it all in a burst of blood. The last remnants of the old world were gone. Leaving the new one to rebuild.
On that day a member of a small organization died. Yet the organization lived on, fueled by rage and a desire to end the organization that caused them so much pain. They rose up, carrying with them a rebellion that carried the world into a new age.
John Snyder poured himself a cup of tea in the ruins of a city. He set the anomalous teapot down at the fold out table. A sigh passed his lips. Despite the years that passed, he couldn’t help remembering who had discovered the old thing. Remembering the day they sat in similar chairs and shared the same tea with fondness. Oh well, he thought, at least it was all over.
He sipped his tea in the silence of a broken world.
