Disclaimer: I don't own Witches of East End or any of its characters.
A/N: I think that the Dash and Ingrid aren't themselves. Do tell, if they aren't.
Sealed Darkness with Fire
Sometimes the fire licks at his soul before the darkness swallows him.
Sometimes he believes his damned soul has a chance of redemption…
The flickering of the light reminds him of something: once a monster, always a monster. A monster can't and won't commit heroic acts for the perseverance of rightness, because for a monster, what deeds he commits are the right ones. It doesn't matter about the obstacles that are thrown in his way, or the dire consequences of those acts.
Who is he kidding? Dash Gardiner isn't a monster, not in the sense that someone is considered one. But he is a man, a man whom commits violent acts for the mere pleasure of it, because it gives him a wicked satisfaction. A satisfaction that completes him.
Monsters might be deformed, twisted individuals, who are exposed to an unstable environment. For him, that isn't the case, he indulges in making life miserable for the ones who made his life a living hell. Because he can do just that.
Power engulfs his very being, transporting him to a place where he is finally free to do what pleases him.
Then he sees her. And that is all he needs to change.
Ingrid releases something hidden deep in his heart, something, so far away yet so close, that makes him believes that he can blend in with society. That he can forget his past; his deadly obsession with Freya, his hatred — that runs so deeply in his blood — for Killian. But when she is gone, his old self, that is DEEPLY instill in his beliefs — how stupid they may be — tries to make them real. Make Freya and Killian suffer for all they did to him. Get rid of anyone and anything that gets in his way.
And now… Ingrid is here again, visiting him in a prison after that switch with Killian didn't work like he wanted it to. Nothing is ever free when it comes to magic; he should have known after that death spell. But he never learns, does he ever?
"Dash, what happened?" Ingrid asks languidly, gripping onto the bars. Her eyes change color. "Please… I need to know. There has to be a way out of this."
Dash closes his eyes as he tries to figure a way to explain everything to her. She deserves more than this damned mess that he got himself into. He doesn't know why she would talk to him after what that dark magic did. He should be upfront with her. He is done trying to save his ass. "I — I thought that I could have a free card out of prison. I was in denial; a total mess. And Killian made my blood boil. He stole Freya away from me."
This isn't about him, is it?
He continues, "It worked. I switched place with Killian, and it was frickin' fantastic. Oh, the things I could do to Freya. The ways I could make her pay for what she did to me."
Ingrid tries to remain calm as she listens to him. "Dash, this isn't helping you. Can you not let your personal feelings get attached to the story?"
"Yeah, of course, I understand. When I switched places with Killian, things felt so right. The power that I felt, it was surreal. You have to understand, Ingrid, the power that flows through me, was intense. I was a whole new person, not the good guy I was known as. I couldn't control myself." His eyes have a wicked glint in them; his knuckles are as white as can be. He promised himself to not be so carried away when it comes to Ingrid. Facts, not feelings. "When I walked out with Freya, I felt fulfilled. Because now, I can fool her, or that's what I thought. Oh, how wrong was I." He holds back a laugh.
"Dash, I need you to be short and precise. We don't have that much time before the spell wears off."
He nods. "After we left the station, we headed to sort things out. It was a bizarre day. That was when Freya sensed something off. I, as, Killian assured her that she was just tired after everything she went through. Told her to walk it off. She needed it."
Ingrid sighs, flickering her eyes. She glances around and gestures for him to continue on.
"When we reached your mom's house, she offered me a drink. I think we both needed it. Or so I thought. I was just tired, so tired of it all. I just took it, y'know." He pauses, his voice wearing down from the exhaustion. "It wasn't until I drank it … No, it wasn't like that."
"Dash, please try to remember, you have to. Killian's in grave danger, and soon, you will be too." She places her palm over his; concern blatant in her expression. "Please, we have to get out of here. And soon." She emphasizes on the last word.
He bits his lips, trying to keep his eyes open. "I think — I know…" He dozes off for a minute, but wakes back up. "Freya gave me the chance to be promulgated with the truth. I didn't. She kept pressing on me. I didn't see it; I was so out of it. So weak." He laughs, tightening his grip on Ingrid's hand. "I didn't understand why she was nice to me. Then I remembered that I was Killian. Her Killian. Her Killian," he repeats bitterly.
"Dash…"
"I'm sorry, my wounds haven't fully healed yet. I loved her once. She was my everything. I should have known that we didn't really connect, not like we do. Ingrid, I'm sorry for everything. For the way I behaved with you, your family. Mostly you. If I go, make sure Killian is alright. I might not be on the best terms with him, but he's my brother. I finally realize that Killian and Freya are happy together. I might not like it, but there's nothing I can do. Ingrid…"
She shoos him, covering his lips with her other free hand. "Dash, you aren't going to die. We are having a baby together. I thought it was the Mandragora's baby, but the doctor confirms it. It's ours. You have to stay here for his sake." She sniffles, a tear shimmers down her face, and her voice breaks down.
"Ingrid, I love you. You deserve better than me. I'm incapable of loving another person. You must know that." He stares at her, long and hard, releasing a soft laugh. He squeezes her hands, and his face softens. "Now, don't be like that. We have to escape from this hellhole, and make things right."
"You're right. And you are more than capable of loving anyone else that I know. I'm the logical one." She fakes a laugh, bringing his hand down to her bump. "Our son needs a safer world."
"You're always correct." He releases a kiss on her bump in the best way he could behind bars. "Let's get down to it? Freya gave me the drink. I accepted it. It was just as sleeping potion. She figured out that Killian's soul felt different from mine. You know that, of course. That's when I discovered the spell. I didn't know how to write one, but it was calling me. In my dreams."
"Good. How did it go?" she urges him to go on.
"Fige tempus., I believed was the first line." He scratches his head. "No, it was the first line. Mutat rei veritatem, afferrent quæ erat, ibi iam. That was it," he finishes, almost as if relieved.
"That was it? Fige means fix. Tempus is time. Fix time. What does that have to do with anything?" It dawns on her. "Wait, fix what went down between Killian and you."
"Yes." He wishes he could pat her on the back. "My latin is roughly, but I believe I knew what I was doing. The rest basically says: change reality, bring back what was, there already."
"How could you recite a spell in a dream and make it a reality? It doesn't make sense. You asked to fix time, yet it didn't. Instead, it guided your soul back to you, and trapped you in…" She thinks through it. "Your judgement cell."
Ingrid actually looks around her surrounding for once. The walls are built of iron, the bars are guarded with an electric buzz, the walls are decorated with volcanic ash. It didn't affect them because she preforms a spell that veils them from the harshness.
"Ingrid, I remembered something. There was another part: Deduc me tergum ,ad eius ablata sunt. Something to do with guiding my soul to the right place?"
"Back to you. That's it."
"But the question remains: how are we going to get out of this?"
Ingrid flashes him a confidence look. "Don't worry about it. I have just the thing," she whispers to him. "You have to pretend to distress the higher powers."
"Meaning?"
"Lower your voice! It's simple. The potion of reverse should just do the trick. But be warned, things won't just be the same."
"Sorry about that." He shakes his head. "It's too risky. What if it backfires? What if it alters time? We can't do it."
Ingrid sighs, then tightens her knuckles. "Dash, listen to me, we are doing this. Let the consequences be. It's the only way."
"Ingrid, why are you doing this? Letting your common sense go?"
"Freya is struggling from the pain Killian endures. Mom is struggling to deal with the loss of Aunt Wendy and Frederick. And I can't bear to see you like this. The moment that I have with you right now is all I need right now." Dash is about to protest, but Ingrid silences him. "Maybe we wouldn't have what we have right now. But I think that we can rebuild it over time once everything cools down. We are having a baby together. And that is what I need, what we need," she lets out, trying to maintain the normalcy in her voice. Couldn't really break down, now!
"I — I don't know what to say. I love you, Ingrid. If you believe that we can rebuild things over time, then I believe you."
She hands him the potion. He looks at the bottle, then at her. She reassures him to go for it. After much hesitance, he gulps the content down in one mouthful.
His eyes give up on him. The last thing he saw was her fading image. He hears her whispering, "I love you" to him. Only if he could find the courage to say it back.
Dash readjusts his eyes to the gleaming light, and tries to focus on the surroundings. A prison? It works; he is in the prison before the act takes place. Killian walks in, saying what Dash knew got him so fired up before. Not anymore. The "I want to punch you" didn't bother in the least bit. He tries to maintain a careful stance. Ingrid is the only thing on his mind. Ingrid and their son.
Thinking that Killian is suspicious, he says, "You should. Punch me."
Killian raises an eyebrow in confusion. "I would. You're still my brother, and that bond is still there. I can't believe you. Resorting to murder? I would have never thought, not even after all you did."
"Think what you want of me. I don't care anymore. I have learned my lesson. Go on. She's waiting for you." He laughs, one that tells he is tired with everything.
When Killian leaves in confusion, he clutches to bars, and mutters to himself, "Ingrid. Thank you. I will make you understand everything. God, I love you so much."
Ingrid, in her room, debating her pregnancy in her room, senses something.
Dash? Is that him? It couldn't be, she reasons with herself, it is impossible. The stress of what she just went through is playing tricks on her. She sees Dash in his orange jumpsuit, but laughs it off.
A monster can be capable of redeeming himself.
End
