Still bummed about that Orphan Black finale. Here's my cheesy response to it. Warning: There's swearing, violence and blood.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Delphine's footsteps echoed off the concrete of the desolate DYAD parking garage. It was eerily quiet in the structure, the only other noise coming from the buzzing fluorescents. With a deep breath, Delphine continued onward.
Click.
Click.
Delphine paused slightly, glancing over her shoulder. Something wasn't right; she wasn't alone. Nealon's ominous words played through her head again: You won't live till morning…
She quickened her pace. The exit was only a stone's throw away, if she could just reach it…
And then she heard it.
Step.
Step.
Another pair of footsteps echoed her own. These steps; however, were much heavier, dragging with each step.
Step.
Step.
Delphine knew she'd been found. Instead of running, she stopped. With slow, even movements she placed her purse on the ground. And then she turned to meet her assailant.
Martin Funt.
She recognized the man immediately, seen him around the DYAD Institute many times. She'd first met him on the day she'd learned of Aldous Leekie's death. He was Rachel's assistant then, tasked mainly with fetching tea and/or coffee. But he quickly worked his way up, and soon he was assigned with overseeing Ethan Duncan while the scientist was held at the DYAD labs. On Delphine's final day at DYAD – the day Rachel had reassigned her to Frankfurt – Martin had received his newest assignment: Finding Cosima a new physician. It didn't take Martin long to find a physician, and soon Cosima was under the care of Doctor Alan Nealon.
Martin stood before her, a slight smirk on his face. In his right hand he held a gun. Slowly he raised the firearm, pointing it at Delphine.
Delphine let out a breath. How? Delphine wondered. How did I miss this?
"What will happen to her?" Delphine asked.
Pchu!
The bite of the bullet in her abdomen was instantaneous, its force knocking Delphine into the car behind her. She fell to the ground with a cry, her hand instinctively reaching for the wound as blood spilled from its opening. This is it, Delphine thought. This is the end. She clutched at the wound, her breath coming out in ragged puffs. With each breath she felt her consciousness waning…
Step.
Step.
Step.
"Doctor Cormier," Martin drawled. He took his time approaching the woman, finally kneeling down in front of her. "I told Nealon not to underestimate you. You're a smart one, I'll give you that."
Delphine stared at the man through lidded eyes. "Don't. Hurt. Her." The words came out in strangled breaths.
Martin gave a low chuckle. "You were a good little monitor, but now it's time to let Neolution take care of Cosima."
"Please," Delphine huffed.
"Are you begging?" Martin asked. When Delphine didn't respond, he tucked the barrel of the gun under her chin and used it to lift her head. "Why do people always beg when they're about to die? Do you really think your pathetic whimpers are going to change my mind?"
"Fuck. You," Delphine breathed out. She tried taking a swing at the man, but her arm just fell clumsily at her side.
"Tsk, Tsk, Doctor Cormier." Martin let her head drop as he pulled the gun away. "No need to be so rude. We'll take good care of Cosima. Minimal pain, I promise. No worse than this…" As he spoke, he pressed the barrel of the gun into her wound.
Delphine cried out in pain.
"Well, this has been fun," Martin said. "But I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye."
Martin stood from his kneeling position and cocked the gun again. Delphine braced herself, squeezed her eyes shut as she prepared for death.
"Goodbye, Del-"
Bang!
Delphine felt warm droplets splash across her face, heard the heavy thud as something large collapsed nearby. She peeked through heavy-lidded eyes and found Martin's suddenly motionless body next to her. She was alive, Martin was not.
"Holy shit."
Delphine gasped – another voice! Someone else was there. With some effort, Delphine twisted in the direction of the voice. Her voice.
"Cosima?" Delphine breathed out. Was she dreaming?
Sure enough, there Cosima stood, a gun held limply at her side. And just behind her, a very startled-looking Scott. Delphine watched as Cosima handed the gun to Scott and raced toward her.
"Shit, Delphine," Cosima said, kneeling next to her. "You're hurt."
"You're. Here," Delphine said through shallow breaths.
"Did you really think I'd let you walk away that easily?" Cosima asked as she assessed Delphine's injuries. Her face paled when she lifted Delphine's hand from the wound. "Shit. You need a hospital." Turning toward Scott she called, "Scott, give me your shirt!"
Scott quickly complied, pulling the button-down from his body. Cosima took the shirt, bunched it up, and pressed it to the wound. Delphine moaned at the pain.
"Delphine, where are your keys?" Cosima asked.
"Purse," Delphine huffed out.
Cosima motioned at Scott and then the purse. "Scott. Car."
"On it!" Scott yelled. He rushed around the pair and plucked the purse from the ground, quickly finding the keys.
Delphine pulled at Cosima, bringing the girl closer. "Protect. Yourself. And sisters," she breathed out. Her words were beginning to slur together. "Go. Now."
"Delphine, it's because of you that we're still alive," Cosima said. "You sacrificed everything to keep my sisters and me safe. Now let me return the favor."
In that moment Scott pulled up with the car and together they laid Delphine onto the back seat. Delphine felt lightheaded, felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness. Through lidded eyes she could just make out Cosima leaning over her.
"Hold on, Delphine," Cosima whispered. "I'll never leave you."