Pairings/Characters: David Acosta, Ben Shakir, Kristen Bouchard, Father Amara, Eric McCrystal, Olive McCrystal
Genres: Angst, Drama, Horror
Spoilers: For Rose 390 (1x4)
Summary: David struggles with the fall-out of the McCrystal case.
Date Of Completion: February 19, 2020
Date Of Posting: February 29, 2020
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Robert King and Michelle King do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 760
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: MAJOR Spoilers in this story!!! If you haven’t seen episode Rose 390 (1x4) yet and don’t like spoilers, DO NOT READ!!!
A wishing well,
An iron bell,
An angel fell,
"Time Will Tell"
Issue No. 13
“They killed him.”
David’s shocked statement hung in the crisp, October air. He turned to Ben, who was deeply distressed, and then to Kristen, who was devastated. The three of them followed Father Amara to the car, the trappings of approaching Halloween all around them in this pleasant suburban neighborhood. Their steps were nearly wooden and David clutched the copy of Ochre 7 in his hand with almost desperate intensity.
Desperate. Were the McCrystals that desperate to free themselves from their son’s actions?
Despair settled down over David like a black cloud. He needed time alone.
Fortunately, Kristen and Ben had wanted the same thing, and they had all quickly gone their separate ways. Now David was in his room at Saint Sebastian’s Church. The afternoon sun was pale gold, illuminating the dark walnut furniture. David put his wallet and keys on the dresser and dropped the comic book on his bed: Eric’s gift to him.
David fell to his knees, resting his elbows on the bed. He clasped his hands together.
God, why? Why did You allow a demon to take over this boy? Or create a psychopath? I said to Kristen that I didn’t believe You could create a nine-year-old psychopath, but they’re born that way, aren’t they? He tried to kill his baby sister. His parents tried everything. They wanted an exorcism. We were too late!
Tears prickled his eyes. He had connected with that boy. They had shared a mutual love for comics, like Ochre 7. He opened his eyes and stared down at the glossy comic book on his bed. He opened it.
Immortal kids traveling through time. Adventures through time. Excitement in exotic locales for a kid from suburbia. A kid who wanted to draw comics while he was drowning his baby sister.
David closed his eyes gain and re-clasped his hands. His arms shook as he prayed hard.
I need answers, Lord.
His mind whirled. Eric could have been a born psychopath, but his parents had said that he had been a normal little boy until two years ago.
I thought I had gotten through to him. I thought we had a connection!
His hands tightened and he shivered.
I saw the evil in that boy’s eyes while his sister was drowning. His cold calculation was chilling.
David rested his forehead on his hands.
What was it like living in that house with a padlocked refrigerator and kitchen cabinets? The whole family sleeping in one room while Eric was locked up? Terrified he might get out and kill them all?
David tried to slow his breathing. His heart was racing. He managed to achieve a calmer state, but he still felt nauseous.
Had Eric truly been innocent, a victim of demonic possession? Or born that way? The questions whirled around his end endlessly like a hamster running on a wheel.
The horror of the near-drowning washed over him. He vividly remembered the event from only yesterday:
Eric spoke in that maddening monotone that he always used. Was he really coming around due to prayer? David glanced at the pool and saw a white bundle floating in the water. A creeping sense of horror engulfed him.
He dove in. His muscles strained as he swam, lungs burning, desperation urging him on. He grabbed the bundle and swam back to the edge of the pool, fear pushing him on as he lifted the bundle to the tiles and climbed out. He was acutely aware of time ticking away and started resuscitation as he prayed that he was not too late.
Finally, the baby coughed and cried.
He looked at Eric, who stared at them with dead eyes.
Desperation. He had felt it, the McCrystals had been driven by it, and now their son was dead. Their daughters were safe.
We were too late.
David opened his eyes. The sun was setting. Hours had passed and his knees hurt and his muscles were sore. His gaze fell upon the cover of Ochre 7.
He wept bitterly.
A few days later when David met up with his team, Kristen and Ben looked as ragged around the edges as he felt, but were determined to move on. It was all they could do now.
Halloween was tomorrow, and that always promised to be busy. The whisper of leaves and gathering of shadows guaranteed it.
This story can also be read on AO3.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)