You Can't Do That on Silent Hill

Brenna "Snakelady" Dawkins

Part 1

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Silent Hill is owned by Konami. You Can't Do That on Television is owned by Carleton Productions, Canadian Television, and Nickelodeon Network. If I owned this program, I'd've made it all available on dvd by now. I've made no profit from this fic.

Summary: Ross has a change of heart when he and the kids find themselves in a nightmarish land where he must take on the roll of father figure and save them all. Hurt/Comfort, adult situations, language, blood, violence, some nudity

(AN: NOT FOR KIDDIES! The YCDTOTV cast like you've never seen them before! Viewed several cut scenes from Silent Hill last night and woke up with this idea.)

'Has to be a dream.' Was the mantra Ross was chanting to himself as he walked through a landscape that could only be termed as nightmarish. 'You're really in your bed, you know.' He reminded himself as he spied a large pool of blood and gore on the floor ahead of him in the dark hallway in which he now walked. He averted his gaze and managed to sidestep it. It reminded him a little bit of the slime in their sketches on the stage, except this was nothing like the red slime that had been dumped on him in one particular scene about the commies. He was sickeningly certain that was not bits of oatmeal among the still wet and congealing mix. 'No more hot and spicy ANYthing before bedtime… EVER!' He condemned himself.

At least there hadn't been a body. He knew he would have lost it then. His nerves were set on end enough as it was. He'd lost track of how long he'd been stuck in that place. Never before had he had such a vivid and long and drawn out dream before. Did others smell things in their dreams as he was doing right then? He couldn't recall having ever had that experience in any dream before. His gut churned as he realized he was smelling death.

Not long ago he'd managed a near escape from some horribly fashioned monster. The thing shambled on misshapen legs making it list to one side as it unerringly went after him even though it had no eyes. Hell, it had no face or head that he could see! Just a conglomerate of arms seemingly stitched on wherever there was an empty space on the grotesque torso. And where there wasn't an arm, there was a mouth, sometimes with a cigar stuffed in between it's bloated lips and jagged teeth. How could it have known where he was if it had no eyes, he had kept thinking to himself hysterically at the time. He'd managed to lose it through the maze of hallways and his senses had seemed to be heightened for danger ever since.

'Just keep walking, you'll wake up eventually. The alarm will go off and then you can start your day over again. Just be glad you don't have to deal with the kids until after they get out of school.'

That idea had perked him up, if just a smidgen. He grasped onto that one bit of hope as he neared the end of the desolate hall. He stopped just before it opened into a T-section. No hint of overhead light from either direction either. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark long ago. The broken tile he had been treading on continued as well. There was something crudely smeared on the wall in front of him. Ross frowned as it looked like writing. Carefully he walked up to the wall and quickly realized that this too was someone's blood, long ago dried. The words read HELP ME.

'I can't even help myself in this place!' Ross quickly stepped back when he realized he was exposed in the new hall. He carefully listened with his back against the wall in the hall he had just come from. He heard nothing coming from either of the two ominously dark corridors, but that didn't mean there wasn't something horrible lurking there.

"Sully? Mark?" He whispered into his headset once more, desperately hoping that someone would answer despite the fact that he was still trying to convince himself that it was a dream.

There wasn't even any static coming from the large headphones. It had gone off wildly with static when he had been chased by that… thing. Now it had gone silent yet again. He couldn't just stay there. He had to find a way out. Ross picked a route and went down the new hall, trying to not make any noise.

It wasn't long before he wished he'd chosen the other end of the hall to go down. On either side of the hall, the whole bodies of rotted teens were strung up. Ross quickly averted his eyes to the floor. They'd been hanging there a long time. He didn't need to perform a close up examination to know that they were all dead. His stomach churned a bit more violently.

Granted, he didn't quite get along with his charges on the 'You Can't Do That on Television' show, but that was definitely not something he wanted to see nor was it something he would wish for them. He decided he'd cool it on the pranks he often pulled on them for a while after if he could just get out!

There was just enough space so he could walk down the hall without brushing up against the bodies on either side. But could he bring himself to brave that hall of horrors? He let his eyes follow along the floor down that hallway, catching the rows upon rows of toes that disappeared into the darkness of the hall. The body count seemed absurdly high.

He could turn around. After all, in this place, one way was just as good as another. Having made up his mind, he spun on his heel and began to walk back the way he came.

"Ross... ?"

He winced and froze at the sound of his name echoing down the corridor. What was worse was that he recognized the voice that came from behind.

"This is a dream. I know it's a dream because even I wouldn't dream you being hung there. See ya!" Ross said without turning and took a few more steps. Never mind that his logic was confounding to even him.

"Please…."

He winced at how weak she sounded. It sounded so far off into the darkness. He was surprised it had carried so.

What if it wasn't a dream? The horrible thought wriggled into his brain. What if he was really trapped in this hellscape? Yes, he was a cad and delighted in tormenting his young charges… but… he turned his head to the side and got an eyeful of the rotting, naked corpse beside him. He shut his eyes tight.

"Please, I can't take much more of this. You're just a bad dream…." He desperately tried once more to convince himself. Then he thought to himself. 'Besides, they're all dead here, you're alive…'

"Ross… please… help…"

The director groaned and took a deep breath, then wished he hadn't as the smell sent his stomach reeling.

He turned about face and stood another moment more before mustering up the courage to walk down the hall and find one of his young charges. Even he wasn't that much of a bastard to leave her there if she really was alive, dream or no.

The bodies looked more whole the further into the hall he walked; still dead, but not quite so rotted. His mind reeled at the thought of being where he was. Whomever had done this was sick, sick, sick! His skin felt all prickly from fear and disgust. Without realizing it, he was soon running and calling her name.

After some time, the hall ended and Ross saw her strung up spread eagle like the others.

"Christine…" He stared dumbfounded.

Her clothes were missing and her body was covered in bruises and what looked like whip marks. She was a lot older then she looked, even more so now that she was bared to the world. Being the oldest of the cast members at age twenty, Ross had often undressed her with his eyes, after all, he was a guy. He was certain the other boys on the set did exactly the same thing. He'd always been curious, but seeing her in such a state got to him and he unaccustomedly felt his ire rise.

"Geeze, Christine, who did this?"

"Please, just… get me down…" She said weakly. Her head lolled forward tiredly but she couldn't help a small smile as she heard the tinge of anger in his voice.

"I gotcha." Ross went up to her and fiddled with the manacles that held her fast.

Luckily they were old and rusty and it didn't take much manipulation for them to come apart. Trembling, she slumped against Ross's body and sighed as her arms and legs felt like jelly. For the first time in the long time that she had been stuck in that place she felt safe, and in Ross's arms of all things!

Ross was very much aware that her naked body was pressed up against him. His tool belt had been shoved to the side to make way for her long body. He couldn't help it as his body reacted. Christine's eyes widened as she felt Ross respond to her closeness. "Now's not the time for that, Ross."

Flustered at being so obvious, he took her up in his arms.

"ROSS!" She protested, afraid he was about to take advantage of her then and there.

"You're too weak to walk, Christine." He grumbled.

"Sorry." She said, embarrassed. "Just… you've never looked out for me before."

Ross shrugged. "We've never been in this situation before. And just so you know, I don't dream about you… well, often."

Christine raised an eyebrow. "You think this is a dream still?" Then she realized what else he had said. "Wait… you dream about me?"

Ross cursed himself for his moment of honesty. He didn't know where on earth that had come from. He decided that it was safer for him to not say anything else about that. With Christine in his arms, he ran back the way he had come.

They had safely escaped the hall where Christine had been found and were wandering down a brand new section that looked just as desolate as all the rest. Ross had gotten used to the weight in his arms. She was nearly as tall as he was. She'd regained enough strength to have put her own arms around his neck. He felt her trembling still and realized she must be cold. He stopped in a place he figured was safe enough and sat her down against a wall.

"Why are we stopping?" She looked up to ask and then saw him shrug out of his vest. Then he began to pull the hem of his shirt out from his pants and started to unbutton it. "Ross… what are you…"

Christine was dumbfounded when he handed her his big, plaid shirt. She stared at it in his hand and he made another gesture for her to take it. She wasn't used to Ross being chivalrous and she decided not to embarrass him by saying something about it.

"Thank you." She said unable to keep from smiling as she gratefully shrugged the shirt on and buttoned it up. It covered her torso completely and was much warmer then going without. Besides, there was something to be said about modesty.

Ross was glad she didn't ruin the moment with one of her usual cryptic remarks about him as he put his vest back on over his yellow tee-shirt that he always wore under his button ups. He scooped her back into his arms and they continued to try to find a way out.

"Where are we anyway? How did we get here?" Christine asked after a time, the dreary silence was getting to her.

"I wish I knew. I keep trying to tell myself it's a dream, but… I don't think I have enough of an imagination to dream up something like this."

"I don't think I'll see another horror movie for as long as I live." She said after a moment.

Ross nodded wholeheartedly agreeing. "I'd even be willing to watch a chick flick if that means I'll never watch another horror movie again."

"It's a date then. Once we get out." Christine said smirking.

Ross groaned when he realized what he had set himself up for. "Fine, but YOU'RE paying!"

She rolled her eyes. Typical Ross. So much for a Halllmark moment. They were quietly picking their way down yet another dilapidated hall when Ross stopped and strained his ears.

"You hear that?"

Christine cocked her head to listen and was rewarded with the sounds of muffled sobbing.

"This can't be good." She muttered and found herself tightening her grip around Ross's neck for comfort.

Ross in turn hugged Christine a little closer without thinking. "Should we double back? Could be a trap."

"Could be someone needing help." Christine said disgusted with Ross's cowardly ways. "Listen to that, sounds like a little kid."

The director sighed. "Fine. But if we end up getting eaten, I'm gonna haunt your ghost!"

Ross walked towards the sound. It was coming from underneath a stairway in what looked to be a makeshift cell.

"Set me down, Ross. I think I can manage now… for a little bit."

He sat her down and then squatted so he could peer into the cell under the stair. The crying was coming from inside, alright.

"Uh… hello?" Ross tapped on the bars nervously. All he could see was a small form with long black hair curled up in the corner.

"Ross?"

He frowned as he recognized that particular voice as well.

"Well… damn…." He sighed and tested the cage door. "Stephanie, how'd you end up in there?"

"Stephanie? Are you hurt?" Christine was instantly beside Ross once it was determined who was in the cell.

"I... I don't know! To both!" She cried but managed to uncurl herself from her protective fetal position. The terrified eight year old Asian girl crawled over the filth on the floor to the cell door. "Get me out, please!"

Ross gritted his teeth, feeling rather helpless as the door seemed pretty solid against his weight. He could tell she'd been in there for a while. She was dirty and her clothes were ripped in places and… stuff was matted into her hair. Was that straw? Who the hell could throw such a young kid in such a place?

"Locked pretty tight, we'll get you out… um, somehow." Ross said but sounded unconvinced himself.

Christine grabbed his arm with both hands. "Your tool belt, Ross! Don't you have bolt cutters in there?"

Ross gave her an amazed look. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Good thinkin', Moose!" He quickly said, forgetting how much she hated that nickname. Ross dug into his pouch and found the cutters and began to work on the door.

"Please hurry, I've been hearing… slimy things… down that way." Stephanie sniffled and let her fingers thread through the thick wire.

Christine entwined her fingers with Stephanie's, trying to comfort her with contact and a joke. "Oh, come on, Stephanie, you should be used to working with slimy things by now, it's been almost a year since you've been working with Ross!"

He shot Christine a glowering look to which Christine was immediately contrite. After all, he'd saved her and he was in the process of saving Stephanie.

"Sorry, Ross… I guess it's sort of a knee jerk reaction by now. We've known each other for what, five years? I never knew you had it in you to do something this, well… heroic… and for us!"

He was finished cutting the wire and set the bolt cutters back into his pouch. Then he began to pull on the cut corner, hoping to fold it down.

"Yeah… I guess I never knew I had it in me either."

Christine stared at Ross, flabbergasted. Ross… was being humble? Had to be all the stress talking, she surmised.

"Please hurry!" Stephanie was aching to get out of the cell. She had never been so relieved to see Ross and Christine.

Ross was struggling with the strong wire grating. He could get it to fold down but it would spring back up if he let go of it. The edges were quite sharp and he was in a hurry. The grate slipped out of his fingers and sliced through his cheek as it sprang back into place. Ross yelped and nearly tumbled over backwards at the unexpected attack. His fingers automatically flew up to the burning sensation and when he brought them away to look at them, they were smeared in his blood. He immediately flashed back to the writing he'd seen on the wall and imagined himself scrawling those letters out in a trembling hand. His heart was pounding. Suddenly he felt very light headed. They weren't ever going to get out of there. How in the world could he protect little Stephanie, Christine, let alone himself? It just wasn't anything he had prepared himself for. There was a reason he had remained single.

He felt hands upon him. He flinched and tried to pull away. It was becoming all too much for him. But these hands were gentle and patted at him so he sighed and allowed their touch. He could feel them tending his cheek. It would be so much simpler to just give in.

But then the hands started to shake him and he heard a stern voice.

"Snap out of it Ross! We need you!"

Another shake.

"Dammit, will you stop that?" He growled tersely and looked up to see Christine crouched over him. "What?"

"You zoned out on us." Christine answered.

Stephanie was beside her, having somehow squirmed out from her cell. "You okay, Ross?"

He looked at her confounded. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"Yeah, but you never do, so I thought I should say it for you. And I'm fine now."

He blinked, feeling confused and shook his head. Why wouldn't he care if she was okay or not? Then he realized she was right and shamefacedly looked down.

"Well… good to know." He muttered and wondered why he felt like such a heel. He wasn't used to feeling this way. He was usually able to justify it all somehow.

"Can we get out of here now?" The tiny Asian girl asked.

Christine raised her hand. "It's got my vote."

"Yeah, let's get outta here!" Ross was about to stand up but found that Stephanie suddenly had a hold of his neck in as big a hug as such a tiny girl could afford. He patted her back, feeling awkward and glanced at Christine.

"I think I can walk fine if I lean on you." She offered.

Sighing, he nodded and stood up with Stephanie still attached to him like some sort of parasite. He held onto her, not used to others seeking him out for comfort. In a weird way it felt sort of good. Christine took a hold of his free arm and the three of them sought a way out of the endless halls.

To Be Continued…