Author Notes: This is very exciting. My 30th story on this site, and one that was meant to be an essay when I opened the document. You can see how well that worked... This was inspired by Topher's words in the episode the Attic, the first line of the fic. It is entirely set in Epitaph Two: The Return, and references back to other episodes along the way, as well as filling in some gaps we were never given answers for in the show. Hope you enjoy!
Straight to Hell
"That woman is going to drag us straight to Hell."
The words were imprinted on her brain. At the time, when she had been watching Topher and Boyd interact via her security feed, the words had stung, but she had pushed it aside. At the time, she had wanted, no, needed them to understand how much of a risk they were going to be taking. They had to make their own decisions.
And now look at them.
Boyd Langton may have dragged them to Hell in the end, but she paved the path. A path of wrong decisions, compromises, moral ambiguities. A path of skulls.
She watched, a slight smile playing on her lips as T ran inside to show his mother the strawberries.
Sometimes she wished she could just forget, let it all wash away, and just exist. That had been precisely what they had all tried to do. And it had nearly worked.
Until...
She sighed, rising to her feet and laying the gardening tools down, brushing strands of hair from her face. There was still no news from Echo and Paul. She began walking into the house, knowing it was foolish to dwell. But the idea that they had finally tracked down where Rossum was keeping Topher...
"You okay?" Priya looked up from where she was cutting vegetables; T had already zoomed off somewhere else, no doubt trying to expend some of his boundless energy.
"Fine." She smiled softly, but it wavered.
"They'll find him." It never ceased to amaze Adelle just how Priya could always know what she was thinking. But then, perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. Even back when they were holed up in the House, her thoughts usually revolved around one thing. One person. Her responsibility. The first person she dragged to Hell.
"But what will they find when they do?" She voiced her fears for the first time. She remembered the day it had happened in far too vivid technicolour. It had been such a good day. He had nearly been himself, the young, carefree, brilliant man she had hired all those years ago.
The journey from the Dollhouse to Alpha's technology blackzone had been long and difficult. With Dr Saunders opting to remain behind, it had been left down to Adelle to try and keep Topher calm as he got to experience the result of his technological brilliance firsthand.
But when they did arrive – and that had been an arduous process as it was, with Priya heavily pregnant at nine months, going into labour five miles from their destination – things had started to get better. They were safe.
In the beginning, it had been impossibly difficult. Things kept changing around them, as they struggled to survive. It wasn't as if she could give Topher his medicine anymore. Their supply had run out three months out of the Dollhouse.
But steadily, slowly but surely, the dust began to settle. Paul and Echo stuck around for a while to help them establish themselves, but soon began using their home more as a base, from which they would disappear, away from months at a time. When Tony and the others had left, it had been a severe blow, but for the sake of T, they kept going. A defining moment had been when the little boy was four, and had gone missing, along with Topher. Priya and Adelle had been frantic, only to discover the pair later, covered in mud outside, laughing their heads off. They had singlehandedly ruined one of their first attempts at growing a crop of carrots, but the women had found forgiveness in the knowledge that both had been happy. T could still be an innocent child, unaware of the horrors outside their home, and Topher could heal. The pair had become inseparable, one trailing after the other.
And Topher began having less and less bad days. His lucid periods started stretching over days rather than hours, weeks rather than days. There were still incidents, episodes, but Adelle found them easier to weather.
And then it had happened. Ten months ago, T had come bursting into the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. His sobbing had been so violent that it had been nearly impossible to understand him at first. He and Topher had wandered too far, out of the protections of their home, and had gotten lost trying to find their way back. Then they had heard an engine noise, and Topher had told him to hide in a small ditch before finding a place of his own. He hadn't been fast enough. The jeep had rolled up, and men with guns had started yelling. Topher had been knocked over the head, and thrown in the back where other unconscious bodies lay.
Rossum had caught him; not even knowing who it was they had caught. Adelle was not foolish enough to believe that his anonymity would have remained that way for long.
Priya had not been able to offer her any comfort, only that they could hope for the return of Echo and Paul soon. Sure enough, just when the small group had sat down for lunch, said people burst through the door. Paul's words did not fill Adelle with confidence, and neither did Echo's reply to her question. She didn't even bother putting on a mask when the other woman's eyes showed her what they were going to need to expect.
There were shouts from outside, and Adelle immediately stood, "Let him go!" She strode outside, watching as two of the men – previously known as Zulu and Hotel – struggled with a clearly weak but distraught Topher.
"No, no, no, no! I don't want – you shouldn't, you shouldn't let me in. They'll crash the barriers down, they'll know where to find you!"
"It's fine, I'll take him." The men nodded, allowing her to take Topher's arms as he sank to the floor. "Ssshh. It's okay sweetheart, you're home. You're safe now."
And she knew they were back at square one. He looked worse than when they had been travelling across country, his too-thin body swallowed by the same red frayed jumper he had been wearing when he had disappeared. His hands found purchase in her clothes as he attempted to anchor himself. And then, for a brief moment, his eyes ceased their erratic darting, and found focus with hers, "I'm sorry."
Adelle smiled a watery smile, "So am I."
"S'not your fault." He replied quietly. The focus died, and he looked around again, "I'm tired."
"Well, let's see if we can get you some food first; I bet you're hungry?" She found that her voice did not need to struggle to find the soothing tone she had perfected so long ago. Too long ago. Had it really been ten years?
She guided him inside, and everyone knew just to leave her to it. As she tried to coax him to eat, she listened to the others, an ominous feeling building in the pit of her stomach. When she heard what they had been forcing Topher to do, and how they had gone about the coercion, she had wanted to scream. She had once worked for these people. She had placed Topher in the position where he was the most sought-after mind in the world. She had handed over the plans. She had let Boyd manipulate his way into her House.
She broke off the pointless train of thought. It was an endless list, and such introspection would not help Topher recover.
And then reality hit, as Echo explained what Topher had claimed he would be able to do. He offered her a tiny smile. Even as she defended him against the vulgar new arrival Zone, even as she looked to the others for confirmation, only one thought remained in her mind.
This time there would be no pause for recovery.
This time there would be no slow road to healing.
They would walk right back into the mouth of Hell, and only hope to pray they made it out the other side.
Their tiny reprieve of a haven was over, and Topher had known it. He had known it enough to apologise.
It was do or die. Redemption or Damnation.
She looked down as Topher's hand slipped softly into hers, his fingers weaving their way into a weak grip. He wasn't even looking at her, his eyes still not tracking onto anything in particular.
After all this time, it came back to the same question. The one she had asked herself each time Topher had one of his episodes.
How, when it had been she who had given the plans to Harding, when it had been she who had betrayed Topher's trust, how did he not blame her? How did he always blame himself?
She swallowed back the lump in her throat, squeezing his hand in a comforting reply.
She had dragged them to Hell. So she would damn well make sure she dragged them back out.
Even then, in the back of her mind, with the soft pressure in her hand, she had known what an empty promise that had been.
FIN
Author Notes: What did you think? Adelle's character development is one of my favourite aspects of the show, as is her, rather rocky at times, mother/son relationship with Topher. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.
