Requiem

Setting: Three years after PD Season 2. A few years back in the 'corrected' post-DOFP universe.

Summary: Ned discovered his mutation when he was nine. He was lucky enough to find a partner that thought his power was a gift, not an abomination - even more so when his powers brought back his childhood sweetheart. But nothing lasts forever. There's nothing left for him in Papen County. This is the end. Or is it?

Warnings: Angst like whoa. Character death. Suicide and overall dark themes at the beginning.

mancando

to grow quieter and die away

He knew nothing that good could last forever. Not for him.

Chuck was dead. His secret was out. Emerson smuggled him out of town, but it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him.

At last, they had him cornered in an alley. Exactly where they'd wanted him this whole time. Bloodshot gray eyes scanned crumbling brick walls as he clutched the burning stitch in his ribs. Not even a fire escape or a dumpster. They'd cut him off from escape routes, from anyone who might support him. He was heading for an operating table in a windowless laboratory. There was no way out, Ned realized.

Long shadows blocked the hazy orange streetlight at the end of the alley. He swallowed heavily.

No way out, except-

Trembling fingers reached to the small of his back for the revolver Emerson had given him. Two hands clutched the grip and he raised the gun. "Don't come any closer," he warned, voice breaking. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face.

"Easy, kid." The man rumbled. He was a solid block of mutton chops and muscle, a few inches shorter than Ned. He looked uncomfortable in the stiff business suit, but not the situation. Figures. He looked like the type who'd killed someone in an alley before.

"We don't want to hurt you, Ned." The female agent said evenly, her voice liquid and reassuring. Her red hair burned copper in the streetlight. She was the distraction. She'd trick him into letting his guard down while she dosed him with enough ketamine to drop a horse.

A semi-hysterical laugh escaped his throat. "I'll bet you don't. I hear I'm a valuable commodity." His eyes flickered from one agent to the other and he removed the safety.

"You think you can stop me with that?" The man scoffed. He stepped closer, light reflecting off a pair of metal blades in each hand.

Ned clenched his jaw. He thought of Chuck - how beautiful she'd been in her last moments, how pooling tears had made her gray-green eyes sparkle like a forest after a storm. "All I need is one shot."

With that, he tucked the muzzle of the gun under his chin and shut his eyes.

Three things happened at the same time.

Firstly, Ned's finger brushed against the trigger.

Secondly, the Muscle released a bellow and stepped towards him.

Thirdly, the revolver was wrenched from his hand.

Ned opened his eyes to see the gun rattle across the asphalt and land twenty feet away.

He was not a violent man, but he'd been pushed far enough. He had been alone for so long. They'd stolen the one person who he'd dared open his heart to. They stole the sun from his sky and he'd forgotten how to walk in the dark. He couldn't make it through his worst nightmare. Not alone.

He needed the man's knife. He could get in a few quick thrusts and bleed out before the ambulance came.

The Muscle raised his hands. "Let's talk about this-"

Ned roared and hurled himself at the man in a flurry of uncoordinated fists and rage. He felt something crunch as his knuckles met what felt like a brick wall. The Muscle raised his hands to block. Metal flashed in the distant streetlight and triple slashes appeared on Ned's inner arms.

Not good enough.

He grasped the Muscle's wrist -were those knives coming out of his knuckles?- and wrenched it toward his abdomen with every ounce of his 190-pound frame.

"Stop!" The female agent shouted, rushing forward.

And Ned did.

Not of his own volition. An invisible force froze him in place, pressing tight against his skin. He struggled, muscles straining as he desperately tried to run away. His eyes were wide and his breath came in short pants.

This wasn't happening. They couldn't take him. Not now.

His fingers peeled themselves from the Muscle's arm. The blades receded into the shorter man's hands and he stepped away with a sniff, his brow furrowing.

The female agent stepped closer, making steady eye contact. She pressed a cool hand to his cheek. His breath caught in his throat, jaw working furiously to resist. His heart pounded as panic threatened to take over.

And then she spoke to him. If she hadn't been this close, in the darkness he wouldn't have been able to see that her mouth wasn't moving.

Yet he clearly heard her voice inside his head.

'Ned, trust me. We're the good guys. We're here to help you.'

notes.

I love the idea of Ned the mutant. This crossover makes so much sense in my head.

EDIT 2 (12-11-14): HOLY CRAP. I didn't realize the former title was also the tag for the next season of Broadchurch. It definitely wasn't my intention to copy that, so I changed the title. Hope you guys don't mind.

Don't write the story. Live the story.