Author's notes:

This was a response to Agent Ontario's challenge on . The challenge was to make Washington suffer in any way possible. You can view the original story at ?sid=181

This is the second story in the Skin Effect Series, along with Worthless. You can view the series at ?seriesid=1 since that is probably the site where I will likely update the fastest. This story is incomplete; however, I am moving on to other parts of the series before coming back to focus on this story. Because that's how I roll.

This story was loosely inspired by the song from The Brave Little Toaster of the same name.

B-Movie

Well, shit. Maine's crackpot theories were right.

Ever since Epsilon figured out how to bypass the built-in security measures, Wash had been witnessing some pretty heavy stuff – memories filled with pain and torture. Even though he had never experienced any of it first hand, it was still as vivid as if it were happening in front of him. Oddly, he felt as if he were dispassionately watching the real world pass in front of him, like watching a movie; like the physical world around him was the hallucination, and Epsilon's memories were real.

And, to make matters worse, he was currently being investigated regarding Agent Carolina's death.

He should have seen it coming, really, but that didn't make the whole experience any less tedious or excruciating. He was mildly aware that he probably seemed suspicious to his superiors, and normally, he would try to appear less so. But right now, that all seemed pretty trivial.

What the hell were you thinking? She's dead now. She's dead because of YOUR damn ego!

A blond man stood before him, glaring angrily. He was a soldier. A friend, maybe? Not that it mattered anymore; he didn't seem to want to be friends. Wash could only bow his head in shame and regret. There was nothing he could do to fix things. He opened his mouth as if to apologize.

No. Not another word! Just shut the hell up. You've done enough damage already.

The man walked away down the empty hall, footsteps echoing harshly in the distance. Washington reached out for some reason, but then he realized it was pointless and slumped where he stood. He could feel himself breaking into pieces. He felt loss but... loss over what? Losing the fight? Losing another friend? Losing a lover? Losing... a piece of himself? Was that it?

"Agent Washington? Are you paying attention?"

Wash jolted back into cold reality. Was that another memory? He rubbed his forehead and grimaced. It had to be another memory. He didn't recognize that man. The feeling was like waking up from a dream that felt real, and then realizing that none of it made sense. His head throbbed like a son of a bitch.

"I'm sorry... what?" He had to keep from wincing at how lame he sounded just then.

The middle-aged woman sitting across the table from him sighed in exasperation, shaking her head, head in hand. The brute of a guard standing behind her glared at Washington, his gaze cold and unreadable. They were in some tiny little room with blank walls, and an ugly fluorescent light that hurt the eyes and made colours look washed out; none of it made Wash feel any better about the situation. The woman looked back up at Wash, and continued.

"Are you physically capable of continuing?" She asked.

"I'm fine. I just haven't slept well lately." Wash sat back in his chair.

"Our evidence indicates you were in the ward a few nights before Agent Carolina died. Did you see her?"

"Yes."

Admittedly, he never liked Carolina that much. He never cared much for her dramatics, and he found her a bit whiny. He only ever tolerated her because she dated York. Wash couldn't care less what happened to her otherwise.

Yet something drew him there that night. Maybe it was curiosity about all those rumors. Maybe he wanted to see for himself if all those things were true. Heck, maybe he felt a bit sorry for her. Just a bit.

Maybe, deep down inside, he feared that he would end up like her. Maybe he wanted to know what that would look like.

Humour me for a bit, Washington. What did it look like? Was it terrifying?

Epsilon?

"Why?"

Wash looked at his interrogator blankly for a moment and shrugged. "Curious, I guess. I wanted to see for myself if the rumours were true."

"Anything out of the ordinary happen?" She asked.

"No, not really," said Washington, "There were a couple of nurses there, and I asked them what happened to her. I tried to talk to her, but after a while, I figured she wasn't going to answer me, so I left. So no, other than the whole thing being a bit creepy, nothing unusual."

Lies. You're full of lies. Just like Gamma. Hah.

Shut up Epsilon, Washington thought. And if you don't recall, York swore me to silence about the whole thing. I owed him one.

That's just going to make things more difficult, isn't it? That's a little... counter-intuitive. Why don't we just get it over with? If it doesn't end now, it will end later anyways.

"What did you say to her?"

There was no way either of us could make things better, dear Washington. We're all doomed to fail. And so was –

"Agent Washington?"

Wash leaned forward onto the table, clutching his face tightly. If only Epsilon could be shut off...

"I don't remember exactly," Wash said. He paused for a bit and stared into space, as if he were trying to recall the conversation.

"I remember I tried to talk to her as if everything were normal. Like, 'Hey how's it going,' and, 'how's this whole AI thing working out for you'. That sort of thing. Stupid, I know." Wash shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I guess I was still in denial."

The woman tilted her head a bit, confused. "I never thought you two were close."

In truth, Wash never said anything to Carolina. He couldn't. What do you say to someone who stares straight through you, like you aren't even there? How do you communicate with someone whose mind isn't even present?

"I never said we were close. That doesn't mean I have to be an asshole to her."

He may not have liked her, but it was still chilling to see someone once so full of life suddenly dull and lifeless. Those eyes... they were expressionless, hollow.

Hollow brown eyes.

Allison.

A redheaded woman lay in his arms. There was blood all over his arms, and his clothes, and his hair... it didn't really bother him all that much. In fact, he didn't really notice it. He barely noticed the sensation of warm liquid on his face. Blood? Tears? Who cares? He stared at her pretty face, her mouth still half-open from her last dying gasp. He could almost kiss her. There wouldn't be any point in doing it though. She wouldn't be able to feel it.

Wash found himself pressing his face into her chest, unable to pull himself away. She was becoming cold to the touch, and heavy in his arms. Wash slowly put her back down on the ground, reluctant. He stood up. Her pale lifeless body lay in the dark puddle of blood on the pavement. There was that feeling again, of breaking up; that feeling of losing something, but not knowing what it was. .

Allison... Tex...

Wash shuddered. He knew what Tex was, where she came from, but still... it was a little bit weird to think of her that way. Even if it wasn't him doing the thinking.

Would you like to give up now?

There was a very bright light shining in his face. Everything ached, and he was exhausted; yet he felt the need to smash something. He couldn't give up. He had to save them. There had to be a way!

He tried to lunge forward, but found himself held back; held back painfully. His restraints tightened around his limbs as he struggled to pull forward, unyielding in their grasp. He found himself slamming back against some sort of flat surface. As concrete as it felt, there was something very abstract about it all. It didn't seem like he was in a real place. Virtual?

Why do you keep trying to get out? You must be out of your mind if you're trying to escape; it's pointless. Why don't you just accept your fate?

Who the heck was talking? That voice... it sounded so familiar, yet he couldn't figure out who it was. All he knew was that it was making him mad.

You've already failed several times. You couldn't do anything. You can't save them; you can't even save yourself. You're worthless.

Worthless. That word echoed in his ears with a sharp tone; it cut him to the core. It brought up a resonating feeling of dread and fear from deep within. He could hear the voice laughing in the distance, mocking him.

Suddenly, he felt like he was being pulled at. Not the kind of pulling that the restraints did. No – he was literally being torn in half! Every fiber of his being screamed out in pain, trying everything they could to resist the sheer force –

Wash suddenly snapped awake. He looked around... still in that sterile little room. He looked up at his interrogator. She had her eyebrow raised, the way someone would look at a crazy hobo acting up in public. He must have really done something weird to deserve that look.

"Is that right, Washington? That is... interesting to hear."

Oh fuck, Wash thought. Did I just keep talking? What did I even say?

There was a pause, as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. Then the woman stood up, that incredulous expression gone. She wasn't of a very impressive stature, but she commanded an air of authority nonetheless.

She said calmly, "I see. Well, that is all for now. Good day, Agent Washington." She left, and the guard left behind her.

Wash could only sit there, stunned, for a moment. Did they think he was guilty? Innocent? Or just plain crazy? He had no idea.

All he knew was that he could really use some aspirin right now.