This story features a human Edge, so it will be an AU fic I suppose. Rated T for language.
Edge x Nilin pairing
There was a saying I had heard as a little girl; life flashes before your eyes when you die. I never believed that to be true until now.
Fragmented pieces of my life pass in front of my eyes and then disappear without a trace as quickly as they came. I try to focus on one, on any, but they're too slippery and each one passes out of my reach like a slimy worm. Reaching out to physically grasp one would do nothing, I know this, but my body reacts instinctively and within seconds I'm gripping the sides of my head frantically trying to calm the images and remove the indescribable pain.
I'm dying; no-one can survive this. My throat is burning and faintly I can hear the screams coming out of my mouth but it's all background noise. The pain radiating in my skull and behind my eyes are the only things I'm aware of and I curl into myself in another effort to protect my body.
But with an inaudible 'pop' the pain leaves in seconds, as do the bright lights that were in front of me moments ago, and it feels as though I was never in pain to begin with.
Unfolding my body I use my forearms as leverage on the cold tiled floor and catch my breath, feeling completely drained of energy.
"Good day," a male voice says from my left, "can you hear me?"
"Yes," I reply, barely able to muster up the one word answer and keeping my head low to the ground.
"What is your name?" the voice continues in a drawl.
"Nilin."
"What year," the man pauses, probably awaiting my answer but I can't think straight enough to reply. I should know the year, why do I feel so disoriented? The man doesn't seem too bothered though as he quickly grabs my arm, bruising the flesh underneath. "What did you say?"
"Nilin," I repeat between short breaths, hoping that's what he wanted, it's not as though I've said anything else to him.
"Damn," he releases my arm roughly and I feel my body drop back to the ground. "That's a first. Not to worry we'll scrape away those last memories. What year is it?"
"I don't know." I hold my head in my hands, desperate for the answer to such an easy question come to me.
"It's 2084. Do you know where you are?"
I slowly lift my head up to glance around the sterile looking room for any indication of familiarity. "No."
The man grips my chin in his clammy hand and forces me to look him in the eyes. There's something cold and ruthless in his, I can tell. He's getting off on my currently unsettled state and he smirks with the knowledge.
"Not so resistant after all. Thank you for your cooperation," he states calmly, releasing my chin to turn away once more.
"Doctor Quaid," he begins and I half turn towards him thinking he's talking to me. "This subject is displaying some resistance." Not me then, I'm merely the subject. I instantly hear another voice speak back to the uniformed man that grabbed me moments ago.
"Complete the substitution protocols," it says, "then send her to me. I'll erase her last barriers myself."
"Yes doctor." I hear, rather than see, the man leave, his heavy footsteps ungracefully echoing on the floor and with that in mind I know I'm relatively alone for now.
Mustering up all the energy I have left from whatever painful ordeal happened to me minutes ago I push up off my knees with vigour and attempt to straighten myself upright. My head swirls violently with the motion though, temporarily caught off-guard with vertigo, and I crumble onto a table nearby to catch myself. It takes several minutes more to compose myself but I make a second attempt to stand, much more slowly this time, and gather my bearings.
Stumbling out of the pitifully small room I was in I take a moment to look around. There were bustling people in green uniforms, moving up and down the dull grey corridors taking no notice of me whatsoever. Not even a curious glance.
A small drone hovers towards me though, circling my head a few times with incessant beeps.
"Move forward," it states robotically lighting up a path down the corridor for guidance.
'How does it do that?' I think, trying desperately to walk in a straight line and not give in sobbing to the painful throbs in my head. There's a faint buzz of static that comes with the pain, or is what's causing it. Static that I can hear so clearly I know I can't be imagining it.
The drone leads me into another room, this one occupied with a couple of people in the far end dressed in white.
"Move forward, please," it continues, hovering about. It stops behind one of the men dressed in white. They're lined up for something. I don't focus on what as the static is coming back quickly and with more force. It disappears though, and in its spot I hear a man.
"Nilin, can you hear me?"
"Yes," I feel a sense of déjà vu wash over me.
"They're about to wipe your brain, Nilin. Don't let them do it," he says firmly in my brain, or more likely my ear. Whose about to wipe my brain? I see one of the men in line take a seat on a metal chair a few meters in front of me. Tubes with metallic clasps come down and attach to his temples causing his body to shake uncontrollably before the chair gives way and drops his body into a pit below.
My stomach churns, but there's no food in it to throw up anyway. I've been through pain before, I think. Maybe it won't be so bad. It might even be a good thing, perhaps it's used to get rid of disorientation.
"I need to create a diversion. Be ready to move when I say!" the now static-less voice demands. I can sense his desperation in his tone and it's enough for me to follow his lead. For the moment, at least.
"Who are you?" I whisper to him. I hear him inhale sharply at my question as though pained, before exhaling with a sigh.
"I'm the voice you have to listen to if you want to live." His line goes quiet and I instantly miss the loss of human contact, however brief. I can't do this by myself, I can't.
'Don't leave me alone,' I plead silently as the line of people continues to shuffle forward. Only one more and it'll be me in that chair. Before I can descend into full-blown panic the room gets enclosed in darkness and an alarm goes off, effectively distracting me enough to clear my head.
"That got their attention." The kind voice was back. "Nilin, the large metal shutter is going to rise on your left. If you heard me move your head, I'm linked to your Sensen. I'll feel it."
I don't move my head immediately, though I heard him perfectly clear. It was the crash from behind me at the entrance of the room that made me swivel around in place. Large men in orange and red armour were trying to pry apart the doors. 'It must have locked when the alarms went off.'
"The door! Go under it, now!" he continues to yell into my ear. I move as fast as I can towards the ajar door, but in my current state that doesn't mean much. Lying flat on my stomach I drag my body under the metal frame with clenched fists, wincing as my muscles pull with the effort.
Halfway through I feel a solid hand grab my ankle and tug forcefully. Yelling out in protest I dig my fingernails into the ground in front of me and kick out my leg aiming at whoever has me. I hear their pained grunts and I smile a little at the small success but I'm pulled backwards still and they grab a hold of my calf as well, dragging the rest of my body back into the dark room.
"No, Nilin!" the voice in my ear yells frantically. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"I'm sorry," I whisper to him, genuinely meaning it but not entirely sure why. It's not like he's the one that's being dragged painfully by brutes. Whoever it was that had my calf releases it and pulls me upright by the arms, lifting me off the ground.
"You're damn right you're sorry, Doll," the assailant holding me whispers, his voice full of rage. "You really thought you could escape La Bastille on the great Vaughn's watch?" He shakes my body like a ragdoll and I shut my eyes at the horrible sensation.
"Nilin, my name is Edge," the voice in my ear was back. "I'm going to make this all right, you have to believe me. I'm going to fix this." His voice is clipped, like he's trying to stay calm for my sake but he can't quite contain his anger. His breath is coming out in shudders.
"I believe you."
I can't see the man holding me, the great Vaughn's face, as it's covered almost completely with a dark red helmet but I know his anger has ebbed as his hands loosen their painfully tight grips on my arms and I'm lowered back to the floor. I don't even have the energy to stand back up.
"It was a 'yes' or 'no' question, Doll. I guess they rattled you up a little more than necessary," he smirks, not understanding I wasn't talking to him.
"Now, I'm willing to look past this little, ah, transgression here for a price," Vaughn says, leering down at me with a disgusting grin as he motions down his body. It doesn't take a genius to work out what kind of price he wants me to pay and I'm disgusted with the knowledge he's allowed to even try.
"That sick bastard!" Edge spits out, not bothering to contain himself for the moment. I take a page from Edge and hock up a small amount of saliva to spit at Vaughn's shoes.
Instead of the anger I expected, his partially uncovered mouth twists into a smile and the two other uniformed men glance at each other.
"Sir," one begins with caution, "should we alert Madame about the attempted escape?"
"No," he replies, bending down to lift me up once more. "You won't tell, and she won't tell. She won't even remember it." Vaughn pushes the person who was waiting in line in front of me away to the side and pulls me towards the vacant chair. I squirm in his hold, digging my fingers into his arm and trying to claw at his face.
Laughing at my efforts he dumps me into the metal chair and manually binds my wrists to it.
"Um, Sir?" one of Vaughn's henchmen looks towards us, a puzzling frown on his lips. With an exaggerated sigh Vaughn turns back towards the men.
"I don't plan on killing her. It would be a waste to lose such a fiery temper," he begins, tuning back to face me. "And body. Besides, it was originally Doctor Quaid's idea."
I glare at him as fiercely as possible while he adjusts what look to be dials on a panel, near my chair. At the realisation that this is actually happening, whether I want it to or not, I begin to panic, struggling with my binds and losing my breath.
"Edge," I whisper so the soldiers can't hear me. "Edge!"
"I'm right here, Nilin. I'm with you," Edge replies, calming me for a split second. "They're going to try reconversion on you and from the looks of it Sergeant Vaughn," he hisses the name with revulsion, "has added the memories of a fallen S.A.B.R.E Force troop."
I don't know exactly what that means, but I know it can't be good. Damn it! Why are these bindings so tight!
"Nilin, focus. I've already set the machine back to factory settings and combined with the power outage before they won't be able to mess with your mind any more than they already have."
Vaughn finishes fiddling with the dials and comes around to face me.
"When this is done, mind if I keep you as a private soldier?" he laughs, hovering over a holographic button, activating the immobile chair.
The chair jerks backwards and I feel the sweat begin to drip down my forehead onto my nose. It stops in place and lights flicker on directly above it. I clench my eyes shut tightly to avoid the shielded gaze of Vaughn and to prepare for the oncoming pain.
"I'm so sorry, Nilin," he whispers to me in a pained voice. "I will be with you for every step. I promise you. I promise."
It was the most reassuring thing he could've said to me and as the machine tries to infiltrate my mind, unsuccessfully, I try to keep a hold of his words. There's too much pain though.
I can't catch my breath, I can't think. I think Edge might be trying to say something more but I can't hear him. Feeling my body slump forward, held in place by the metal clasps on my wrists, I sense my mind shutting down for the second time in an hour and the darkness engulfs me.
Thanks for reading... I've got big plans for these two.