Name: Into The Abyss
Summary: SPOILERS FOR S8. Hours of debriefing never had worked, not really. It didn't save people from the endless nightmares, nor the pain that continually stabbed your heart when you realise that it's this job that has lost you everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever stood for.
Set in the Timeline of...: Following on from the end of Series 8 Episode 3.
Disclaimer: Anything/anyone you recognise from "Spooks" unfortunately do not belong to me. They belong to the BBC and Kudos.
Author's Notes: I'm not sure about this one, review and let me know what you think please?
"When you look into the abyss, the abyss looks into you."
- Fred Roberts, a character from Spooks, episode 2 series 3.
Hours of debriefing never had worked, not really. It didn't save people from the endless nightmares, nor the pain that continually stabbed your heart when you realise that it's this job that has lost you everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever stood for.
Ros contemplates this as she holds her head in her hands, wearily kneading her blotched eyes.
"You should go home Ros."
She wasn't sure exactly who the voice came from, or if she had actually heard it. For all that she knew; the voice was from inside her head, her own conscience finally kicking in.
A bit late, Ros sneers.
"Ros? Go home." The voice is more demanding now, and it's also taken on a tone. Two tones, in fact. A soft, sweet tone presents itself at first, but it's patronising. Almost as if it's laughing at Ros; laughing at her for being so weak; laughing at her for lashing out at her psychiatrist; laughing at her for falling to the floor; for showing her emotions.
The exalted Ros has fallen, the voice ridicules.
But Ros knows that the voice's owner would never say a thing like that. No, she was too good, too warm, and altogether too human.
The second tone is from a person much like herself. An inhuman being. Yes, that's what she is, inhuman. And he was too. But his voice has a feeling to it, a particular compassionateness about it. Telling her to go home, go to bed, to stride through this bad time and leave it in the past. But it's not as simple as that. He knows that too. Nothing concerning Adam and Ros was ever that simple. Nevertheless, she gives in and looks up; meeting Harry's troubled eyes with her own empty ones.
His hand reaches out to stoke her shoulder, but she shrugs it off and rises to her full height.
"I'm going home." She says to him, logging off her computer and grabbing her bag.
The whole office reminds Ros of her, and of him. They're presences still existing on the Grid, never being completely erased; but fading a little in time, much like footprints in the sand. And Ros has made her own footprints too. But, in contrary to Jo and Adam's footprints, Ros' are full of fault and disarray; it seems she hasn't had too many triumphs.
"That'll be £34.40."
The journey home is a blur in Ros' mind. It'd been raining when she had glanced out of the cab's window, as if the atmosphere had wanted to commemorate the day and make its weather equivalent to the mood.
At least something can shed its tears, Ros looks up at the night sky in spite as she unlocks her door.
Her flat is the same as always; minimalistic, clean, and tidy. A half empty wine bottle lies on a pristine lamp table beside her couch, and the temptation is just too much. In one fluid motion, Ros picks in up and hurls it towards a wall. Red wine meets white wall and clings to it in a thick circular pattern, odd leaks gliding their way down the rest of the descent.
Ros stares at this before the memories become all consuming and she lets out one single sob. The wine looks too much like the blood as it had poured its way out of Jo. Only pouring its way out because of Ros. A death in fault of the leader; it was a classic tale, and one that had occurred too many times for Ros' liking.
Before Jo, it had been George's life which was taken away by the fault of Ruth's leader. He may have not been in the team, but he was still a life, and a life which the team fought to save each day. That day they had failed, and it had cost George, Niko, and Ruth.
Prior to that, it had been Connie's life. This time not taken by a leader, but by a force in which Connie had served. Even so, if she had not taken it herself, her leader would have ended up doing so anyway.
It was Section D's fate to have their life ripped away from them either by their leader or by the belief that they fought tremendously hard for each day.
The same had happened to Ros. Maybe not by her official leader, but by a hidden leader and Ros' belief that she was doing the right thing for the right reasons. But Ros had survived, she had cheated death. Maybe that was why she had been the one to take life away from someone else; to repay death.
Then there was Adam. Ros lifted another wine bottle out of her cupboard, unscrewing the lid and tipping the opening towards her dry lips, not bothering to find a glass. Adam's life was another that Ros had may as well had taken at the time; she had contributed the most to it. She was the one who had delayed him in the most fragile moments of his life. She was the one who had called to him, and only for her own selfish reasons; because they had swapped roles. She had needed him at that moment in time. She had let that show, and, because Adam had always needed her, he had rethought his actions, all because of Ros. Those few precious seconds that had passed before he had drove away, they were all that was needed for his life to be taken.
Ros feels a wave of sickness wash over her as she takes another sip of her wine. Walking around her flat, her pale hand glides along the table tops, pausing as she reaches the radio. A single finger presses down to turn the radio on and a mantra fills the room. She laughs softly as she realises what the song is. It's not to her normal taste, but appropriate for the day.
You walked with me
Footprints in the sand
And helped me understand
Where I'm going
You walked with me
When I was all alone
With so much I know along the way
Then I heard you say
Adam had helped Ros in nearly every way possible; especially in helping her to find her life again after her father's betrayal. She had fallen for him right at the beginning, and after that there was no going back. She had hated herself for it at first, but then she had gotten used to the idea, playing along with it, always knowing that it would never work, never last, but still liking the excitement which accompanied their relationship.
I promise you
I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair
I'll carry you
When you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand
A solitary tear winds its way down Ros' complexion, and one hand reaches up to it, smoothing it out across the expanse of her face. She can barely distinguish what this new sensation is; it's so unlike any other. The impounding beats in her chest steadily lose pace and she repeatedly gasps for unwanted air. She won't yield to it; Ros Myers never surrenders. But when illustrations of how her life could of turned out start to plague her mind, she can no longer resist. A long, forlorn sob escapes from inside of her and her body falls to the ground as if in slow motion.
I see my life
Flash across the sky
So many times have I
Been so afraid ooh
And just when I
Have thought I've lost my way
You give me strength to carry on
That's when I heard you say
The wine bottle falls with her, and when her tight grips releases, it shatters as it hits the ground, leaving yet another bloodlike stain. One frail hand grips at the carpet, distributing the redness into the cracks of her hand. The other wavers in the air, repetitively shifting between her chest and the floor, but not touching either.
She's back in the Thames Barrier, she's drowning again. The room is already full of water; she has nowhere to go, no way of escape. But Adam's there, and he's smiling despite the situation. She has someone to hold on to, someone who will take care of her. But that isn't going to get them out of there, so he lets go off her to reach the metal grid, frantically trying to open it. And with no one holding her, she falls into the abyss, much like when she was a little girl learning to swim and daddy let go of her. And then, akin to the past, Adam reaches out to her, dragging her back to him, holding her face, his eyes telling her that he won't let her go, that he'll get them out of there. And he does.
I promise you
I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair
I'll carry you
When you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand
Ros gasps once more and her breathing returns to normality, but her body still won't respond.
"Where are you, Adam?" she murmurs into the stale air.
But no one answers, even the voices in her head seem to disappear. She's totally alone.
Finis.