"The Pretender" and all associated characters are property of NBC Studios and MTM Entertainment and its creators Steven Long Mitchell & Craig W. Van Sickle and are used here without permission and is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
He had not pretended to not know this possible outcome of the situation as he simmed it just hours before it all developed. He simply had not cared. His eyelids grew heavier, his breathing more shallow. Blood trickled down his chest. But he somehow managed to smile. He collapsed onto the floor. Revenge is a dish best served cold, or was it? He tiredly eyed the remnants of his former enemies. The blood had stopped pumping in their veins, that had supplied their malevolent minded brains with the plans to innhilate his family. Only because alive, they posed a threat. They had been what kept him alive and resisting to give in. The last fragment of his humanity, whispering alluring promises for him to have something ressembling a normal life. A home. A family. An identity. His home, his family and who he was supposed to have been had he not been kidnapped and locked up for thirty years to serve as their think-tank property.
Something still bothered him though, and his smile grew into a frown of confusion. The man at the cabin where his parents had stayed in the past, Alex's words. He didn't look much like his parents, the Centre had not been looking for him for the reasons he was lead to believe. What was it that they had been keeping from him, what sick and twisted part had they all had in keeping the truth from him? More importantly, what was the Truth? Now he would probably never know. Dead enemies posed no threat, but they also did not reveal any of their secrets to his past.
He knew how to be many things. He had been the one who decided who lived and who died, just like his brother. But he could not repeat the jaw-loosening wonders his brother had so persuasively performed on Mr Lyle, to which Mr Lyle's cold and broken jaw bore witness.
He sighed and closed his eyes. He wondered what it would be like to die. He should not need to pretend knowing that at least, with his life ebbing out as the dark red blood of his coloured the murky grey cement floor. In some sense this would be a fitting end. Back to where it all started. His doing, and undoing.
Bitter regrets, tormenting What ifs. What he would not give to trade his life for their lives and freedom, and not the other way around. Something persistantly buzzed over and over in the back of his head, making its disturbance known to his numbened consciousness, he was just about to begin to make sense of its origin when a comforting darkness embraced his mind.
Beep. Beep. Beep.. the machine tiredlessly kept beeping. It was not until now he actually was consciously aware of the annoying beeps. His pulse quickened, as did the beeps. The world that met his eyes was at first blurry, but eventually he managed to focus on a point in the ceiling above him. The memories came back to him. Fire, destruction, death. Revenge and death again. He clenched his fists and did not notice the burning tears that fell from his eyes until a nurse had appeared in his peripheral view. She had seemed very surprised with her big eyes and cautious approach to his bed, not mention even speedier retreat. He guessed that he probably had been asleep for some time.
No words uttered, just silence. He felt her eyes on him before her hand gently but firmly clasped his. He opened his eyes to meet her steady gaze. Dark rings under her eyes accentuated her probing look that was focused on him, and a concerned look on her face as she held his hand and saw him open his eyes. Neither would turn away their gaze. They remained like that for a few minutes until his gaze finally wandered to her hand. His face remained emotionless. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
- author's note -
Had I had better timing, publishing this would've been perfect for the September 19th Anniversary of The Pretender (first ep aired, September 19th, 1996!), alas, I'm slightly late ;)
Anyhow longer drabble, of sorts this. But argh, it feels so basic compared to what I pictured, but at least the general feel I wanted to portray is present. Do feel free to critique on structuring and all.