A/N: Alternate take on the last couple of scenes in Bullet Train. This was inspired by something Crumby said to me.
# # #
Screaming.
All he could hear was screaming.
A high-pitched, desperate, wailing scream that he so badly wanted to let out, as her efforts to move towards the door – towards him – began to fail.
But he couldn't.
Whatever words Casey were saying next to him passed idly through.
Seeing her crumpled, on the ground, giving in to the poison, her eyes slowly falling out of recognition, out of comprehension, he couldn't move.
But Quinn could.
Through the glass panel, he could see him back up against the wall panel, playing with the controls.
Quinn smiled.
The train rattled loudly.
No.
Quinn was trying to detach the train. He was trying to cut them off! He knew she had the Intersect; he was trying to take her.
"No!" Chuck screamed, slamming his fist into glass. He was trying to take everything. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't. She needed the suppression device! "No! Stop!"
But Quinn didn't stop, and the train rattled further.
Then he had Casey's gun in his hand was unloading the entire magazine into the glass, only it didn't break. It didn't even crack. Chuck barely heard the ear-piercing sounds reverberate through the air.
Everything was just background. All he could see was her, looking up at him through the glass on her door.
Pleading.
Going.
Fading.
The train shook again, and he could feel the carriages start to uncouple.
I love you, he mouthed. He mouthed it over and over again. She needed to hear him say it.
He saw her open her mouth, to try and form the words, but her eyes were drifting, losing the battle to stay conscious.
I…
Love…
…
And then she was gone.
Sarah was gone.
And so was he.
# # #
Panic.
All she could was feel was panic.
Panic that she was fading. Panic for what she'd lost already. Panic for what she still had to lose.
Panic for him.
She didn't try and fight as they strapped her to the chair. Whatever drugs they'd used on her hadn't fully left her system yet, and everything still felt blurry. She knew what she had to do. She needed to focus, to remain calm – to not get emotional, as he had told her. She couldn't use the Intersect. She couldn't risk it.
She couldn't.
They would have to save her. He would have to save her. He could come. He always came.
Then Quinn showed her the flash cards; the cards that would trigger the Intersect.
The cards that would supress her memories.
The cards that would take away her.
The cards that would take away him.
Then she panicked.
Her arms and legs tried to go everywhere at once, as much as the restrains would allow, and the guards had to restrain her.
Quinn just smiled.
That didn't stop her; she forced her eyes shut and looked away.
She wouldn't look. She wouldn't!
She felt fingers force her eyes back open, plastic devices put there to stop her from blinking, and her head was turned back towards Quinn.
"Please…"
He just kept smiling and held up the first flash card.
Pain erupted in her head and she felt her eyes roll back, like a million needs all coming her at once…
They were walking out of a church. They. Her and him. It was their wedding.
And then the needles were back and she couldn't remember! She couldn't remember!
Quinn held up another flash card and she felt her body spasm back against the chair as her eyes rolled once again.
They were at the docks. She could feel him against her. His face. His breath. His kiss.
Pain clouded her vision again and she slowly sunk into the precipice of memory as Quinn continued to show her the cards.
Wetness was marking her cheeks as everything that was her started to go and she tried to cling on.
To cling on.
To him.
To the one she loved.
To Chuck.
Who?
