A Sound He Shouldn't Be Able To Hear
Written for the prompt: Blake's 7, Avon/Blake, the creak of leather when he moves
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(set at Gauda Prime)
It didn't used to be like this. The black was nothing new. In all the time Blake had known him, Avon had favored dark colors. A somber outfit for a seemingly serious and somber man. In past times, Blake would have argued differently, said that it was merely a mask, a disguise for the vulnerable heart within.
This Avon now though is someone different, someone he barely recognizes beyond the physical appearance. He has aged in ways Blake would never have realized, damaged perhaps beyond repair, changed beyond redemption.
The outfit now is black leather; hard and shiny, a shield against the world, even against the people around him. It's more than a mask, it's a last line of defence.
Blake would never have imagined that above all the noise of this showdown, the noise of so many people, so many guns, that he would be able to swear to hearing the creak of leather as Avon lifts his gun to shoot.