Note: There's no law that says I can't AU my own AUs. So, here's an AU of Tandem. Jack McCoy lives!
Prologue
He sits on the floor of George Atkinson's solarium, torn between grief and rage…
A Human/Alien Hybrid…
That was what George Atkinson said he was. That was what all those abductions, all those tests, were all about…
They turned me into something alien, not human…
John James McCoy sits on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, and all he feels is terror…
He remembers everything now; all the tests, all the times they drilled into his skull, all the times they planted…something…into his brain.
"The holocaust…it starts tonight," George Atkinson says, and all Jack McCoy knows is that he has to end it.
Even if he has to die to end it.
But, even though Atkinson has given him a gun, small-caliber, McCoy isn't certain he has the nerve, the courage to actually put the thing to his head and squeeze the trigger.
That's when the home invasion happens.
It begins innocuously enough, with a knock on the door. The housekeeper, Rosita, is off for the night, so Atkinson answers it himself; and…they barge in…
Four men…
At least McCoy thinks they are men…
But, with faces resembling melted wax, that isn't a certainty.
One man grabs Atkinson with one hand, the other brandishing a short black…stick measuring no more than about five or six inches in length.
And George Atkinson…
His body bursts into flame and he screams agonized screams,
It's too late to help George, and McCoy has reached a limit anyway.
Too much horror has already been heaped upon his head.
He runs, sheer terror giving him an extra boost of adrenaline…
Out through the back door, three of the men in hot pursuit.
Jack McCoy is ready to die to save his world, to save those he loves most; Adam and Claire.
But he doesn't want to die like…that.
Not burned alive…
But it seems these men have other weapons besides those little black sticks.
Two bullets through the back, and Jack McCoy is brought face down on the beautiful grounds of Atkinson's back yard.
Breathing is purest agony, and he can taste blood at the back of his throat.
A hand turns him over, and the three men stand over him, staring at him with expressionless, pitiless eyes.
Please, let me die first,McCoy wants to say. He knows he's dying.
But one of the men bends over him, that black stick in hand.
Light…
Brilliant…blinding…flares up overhead, and the men throw up their hands to shield their faces…
HR
Jeremiah Smith looked down. Killing was such a repulsive thing to do. But these men, such as they were, had left him with no choice but to kill.
The three out on the back yard, and the fourth, who had already taken on the face and form of the Terran who lived in this house; Jeremiah had been forced to kill all four of them.
Only the fifth man remained alive, and he wouldn't be alive for long.
Blood trickled from the man's nose and mouth, and his body twitched feebly.
"Shh…" Smith knelt, laid one hand on the man's chest, the other on his forehead.
"It's going to be all right…" he murmured as he summoned his special gift…
Ruptured organs became whole, torn blood vessels sewed themselves together, and the gunshot wounds healed under the force of Smith's will.
The man's breathing steadied, deepened, and his eyes fluttered open.
"What…" he gasped, profoundly disoriented. "Who-"
"Shh…" Smith kept a hand on the man's forehead.
"Go to sleep," he commanded. The man's eyes fluttered closed again…
"It's not enough to save your life," Smith muttered, brushing tousled dark locks back from the man's forehead.
No…I need to make you disappear…
One of the invaders was roughly the man's height and weight; around six feet tall, and lean.
Yes…
Smith took hold of the man's right hand, looked at the signet ring on the Ring Finger of his right hand, and now he knew what to do…
HR
Dr. Emil Skoda, on his way to George Atkinson's house. It was almost one AM now.
Feeling bone-weary on arrival, he was greeted by an alarming sight. Scores of police cruisers everywhere, lights awhirl, and the FBI too…
"What happened?" he asked the first cop he found.
"Home invasion. Several casualties."
Oh god…Jack McCoy…
"A friend of mine was here," Skoda began. "I-"
"Dr. Skoda…"
The psychiatrist turned to see George Atkinson's chauffeur…Alex-walk up, accompanied by a young-looking FBI agent.
"FBI Agent Jeffrey Spender," Alex made the introductions. Skoda nodded impatiently.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"Home invasion," Spender's voice trembled a little. "We think four men. They killed George Atkinson. But…something…happened out in the back."
The FBI agent took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself.
"Atkinson's body is in the front entry, and there are four bodies out in the back yard."
"Four bodies…" now Skoda was trembling. "I need to see them."
"Follow me…" Spender led Skoda through the house, passing a sheet-covered form just inside.
There were four more bodies out in the back; each body covered by sheets, and the smell of char, of burnt flesh lay heavy on the air.
"He'd be around six feet tall, and on the thin side…" Skoda fought to keep the trembling out of his voice.
"Here, sir," a cop stood by one of the sheet-covered bodies.
Skoda didn't want to do this…
He didn't want to see what he was very afraid he would see.
Get on with it, he knelt next to the body, and gently lifted the sheet…
The body had been burned, charred practically to the bone. There was no chance of identifying the body by looking at its face.
So Skoda looked down, seeking out the corpse's right hand.
The glint of gold, on the charred body's ring finger told him all he needed to know…
"Damn…" he muttered.
I'm sorry, Jack…so sorry…
They had burned him alive…
"I need to make a call…" Skoda's voice felt very far away to his own ears.
Physician, heal thyself…
He stood, feeling numb, went back into the house to make that call.
The phone rang three times.
"Who the hell is this?"
Adam Schiff sounded testy.
At being called at two in the morning? I'd be testy too. And I'm about to make it worse…
"It's me, Counselor. There was a home invasion at Atkinson's place."
He heard Schiff's sharp intake of breath.
"Jack…George…"
"George Atkinson's dead, Adam. So is Jack. I've seen both bodies. I'm sorry."
"Jack? He's…how?"
"I'll explain when I…bring him home, Counselor."
He didn't want to tell Adam Schiff, didn't want to let him know how Jack McCoy had died.
HR
Jack McCoy opened his eyes, vaguely surprised he was still alive. He sort of remembered being shot, of seeing those men standing over him, their black sticks out; and he knew what they were going to do to him with those black sticks.
Then had come that blinding light…
Who saved me?
He remembered that light from other times, and now pure terror reared up.
They took me again!
McCoy jolted to his feet.
I'm not strapped down…
The room he was in didn't look like a lab either, and not a drill in sight.
"You're awake! Good."
McCoy turned at the sound of the man's voice, found himself facing a man roughly his own age, maybe just a little older, with iron-gray hair, and very pale gray-blue eyes.
"Jeremiah Smith," the man held out a hand. McCoy stared at that outstretched hand.
"Don't worry, Jack," the man…Smith-said. "I don't bite. You're safe here."
"Safe…"
Hysterical laughter bubbled up within.
Safe…
McCoy was trembling again as he hugged himself. He wanted to run…he wanted to hide.
"You are hidden," apparently Smith could read minds too…
Which didn't exactly make McCoy feel…safe.
"Look at your right hand," Smith spoke patiently.
My right hand?
Perplexed, McCoy did as instructed. Then, he noticed…
"My ring…what happened to it?"
"I took it off your finger, and put it on one of the dead invaders, one who was about your height and weight," Smith explained. "Then, since they were already dead, I burned them all. Everyone thinks you're dead."
McCoy was a moment understanding what Smith had just said. Then, when Smith's words made sense, when McCoy finally comprehended what the man had said, his legs folded under him, and he slid to the floor…
"Adam…Claire…" his throat felt dry as dust.
"They're grieving," Smith admitted. "But…they're not the only ones who think you're dead. Your…abductors think you're dead too. You're safe now, Jack. Really and truly safe."
McCoy knelt there.
Adam and Claire were perhaps the only two people he truly loved in the entire world; and he didn't want to hurt them.
But…
They…
I'm a successful Human/Alien Hybrid. George made me remember what they did.
He couldn't let that happen again. The terror of it was too great.
He nodded shakily as Jeremiah Smith knelt next to him.
"You're safe, Jack," Smith assured him. "They won't take you ever again…"