Bree shifted, groaning softly. She hugged her arms closer to her chest, but a bolt of panic shot through her to rouse her from her waking dreams. Her hands were empty – her nutcracker was gone!
She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before looking around. She was still on the couch in the living room, her shoes on the floor beside her where she had left them and the dishes she had neglected to clean up still strewn on the coffee table; only the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree illuminated the soft darkness. All was still, but not all was quiet.
Bree frowned, cocking her head as she became aware of a tinkling little melody floating through the air. She was alarmed to notice shadows coming to life, and she leapt to her feet. Long, snaky fingers danced on the walls, announcing the presence of countless rats and their waving tails.
The bionic's breath caught in her throat, and she spun around in shock. If she wasn't mistaken, she had noticed that the rats were steadily growing larger. And it wasn't just the rats growing; now that she studied the rest of her surroundings, she saw that everything else around her was also increasing in size – or she herself was shrinking. She craned her head back to see that the ornamented tree towered far above her, appearing as an extremely fat and bushy skyscraper from her new point of view.
She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the skritching and scuffling of the rats' soft, clawed feet scraping on the floor. While she wasn't afraid of rodents, she certainly didn't like them. The thought of them darting around, quietly circling her made goose-bumps race across her flesh.
A metallic clang! rang out, and her eyes snapped open to land on the rats. But the rats were no longer simply rats – they stood back on their hind legs, and had all the appearance of men save for their greasy brown pelts and bald tails. Their faces were what really startled Bree, though. All of them had the same ghastly face, and it was a face that Bree knew all too well. The face of Marcus the android.
And the innumerable Marcus rats were not alone; battling them were toy soldiers in royal blue, white, and gold uniforms, and these noble soldiers, too, had an identical face. The familiar and equally friendly face of her youngest brother, Leo. Their faces were locked in expressions of determination and loathing for their archenemy, and they fought with much fervor against the rats.
Through the chaotic clashing of silver swords of the battling Leo soldiers and Marcus rats, two figures towered over the rest, stalking toward each other threateningly.
One was a dark figure, appearing much as his Marcus minions; standing upright and covered in dark brown fur, his pelt shimmered with a dark sheen, rippling with every stride. He was markedly different from the other rats with the tattered and glittering coat he wore, the coat tails visually balancing out his own ugly tail. His face was the face of Douglas, locked in a vehement snarl and stormy with evil desire. Adorning his head was a crown of woven thorn branches with seven rats' skulls circling it.
The other figure was one of elegance, of purity. He wore a red, white, and gold vestment, his right hand clasped tightly around the handle of his exquisite sword. Standing tall and taking strong steps, he seemed to pay no mind to his heavily bandaged left shoulder. Seeing the face of the large mask he wore, Bree gasped yet another time. This was her nutcracker in the flesh.
The two of them wove through the fighting easily, never taking their eyes from each other. It wasn't until they were directly face to face in the middle of the battlefield that they stopped, staring each other down with a passionate fury for each other. Few words were exchanged before the weapons were drawn, the both of them taking up their defensive stances.
Douglas struck first, making to stab the nutcracker, but the noble soldier jumped out of the way, deflecting the deadly blade as he did so. He deftly parried Douglas' following attacks, sneaking in his own every once and a while. Douglas' onslaught was most terrible, containing all of the hatred he possessed. This was his big moment, the moment that he intended to take out all of his pain and exact his revenge.
But the Nutcracker had no intention of letting his nemesis emerge from this encounter victorious. He fought with equal ferocity; his ferocity was not to destroy, but to protect. Bree could see this, but understand it? She only wished that she knew the cause of this intense conflict.
A battling Leo and Marcus stepped in front of Bree's view of the clashing commanders, and she gulped as Leo impaled Marcus in the gut, kicking the stiffened rat soldier to the ground before joining his fellow Leos in fighting the rest of the Marcus-rats.
The bionic's attention was jerked back to Douglas and the Nutcracker as she heard a chilling scream pierce the air. Time seemed to slow as her eyes landed on red, deep, dark, wet red. The red seeped through and stained the mutilated snowy-white bandages on the Nutcracker's shoulder, and he clutched his maimed arm as he slowly sunk to his knees in pain and shock.
Bree felt herself scream in fury, but she heard not a sound. Blind with rage in that her dear nutcracker had been hurt again – the same arm in the same place, for that matter – she could no longer stand and watch this fight that was not her own. The injuring of the Nutcracker made it her own now.
In a split second she sped over to them, catching the wrist Douglas' sword hand as he was bringing down the blow that would end it all for the Nutcracker. They both froze, he staring at her with confusion and frustration and she at him with utter loathing. As she studied his despicable face, it seemed to turn to Adam's face in a flash before becoming Douglas' again.
Burning anger rose within her – she could see it now. She could see her older brother in the face of Douglas, and both wanted only to take from her the beautiful nutcracker doll. That doll, it was like the beautiful life she now had with friends, school, and even a boyfriend - the thought of that being taken away... She was never going to allow that to happen.
With a yell of rage, she pulled Douglas' hand around and down, twisting it so that she could extract the sword. He tried to resist, grabbing her with his other hand and trying to rip her away from his weapon, but it was in vain. She was too fast and had already spun around him, cracking him over the head with the butt of the sword.
His eyes rolled up and he slumped to the ground, lying motionless. His crown lay broken around his head, his blood trickling lightly from both the head wound and the thorns pricking his scalp.
Bree merely stood over him, staring down at him viciously as she threw the sword down and away from them. The realization of what she had just done hit her, and she tried to shake off the goose-bumps it brought. What had warranted such a strong reaction? In playing it over in her mind, she also realized that she reminded herself of someone… of Spike. But this was no commando app – this had been entirely her.
And then she remembered what had triggered her into action. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a small O, and she spun quickly and dropped to her knees next to the shaking Nutcracker who lay flat on his back. Her stomach twisted with sickness at the sight of his half-severed limb, but she forced past it, putting a comforting hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Shh, shhh, it will be okay," she breathed, almost more to herself than to him. She searched around quickly, looking for anything she could use as a new bandage to stop the blood flow. She spotted a cape on an unmoving Leo, and swallowing back her extreme discomfort, she got up and walked over to the body, gently removing it from his shoulders. The sight of her step-brother, so very dead….
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly turned away and hurried back to the Nutcracker as she choked back a sob. There was nothing she could do for that Leo now, and if she didn't do anything for her nutcracker soon, she would lose him too. It brought her some comfort that there were still other Leos up and running around, still full of the fervor of life.
Bree fell to her knees again, whispering "Okay, it's okay… I'm just going to move you a little like this…." The Nutcracker hissed in pain as she tenderly lifted him up a little, sliding the cape underneath him and wrapping it around the joint. "See, we're okay, you're going to be okay…" she continued.
She began to try to tie the ends of the cape together, but she was unable to for the trembling of her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, biting her lip and willing herself to put aside her torrential emotions and shock in order to simply get the job done. Opening her eyes, she focused solely on the movements of her fingers, refusing to allow herself to worry over the Nutcracker. One small task at a time.
"Thank you," the Nutcracker rasped, lifting his head so that he could see her. She glanced at him for only a minuscule moment before ducking her head and focusing even more intensely on what she was trying to do. Don't think, don't think, don't think! she shouted at herself internally.
The Nutcracker simply studied her for a moment before laying his head back down again, taking a few heavy breaths as he bit his tongue. The pain made him want to curl up in a ball and die so that he would never have to ever feel that pain again, but he knew that that wasn't the right answer. Oh, how he wished he could sink into unconsciousness so that he might at least temporarily escape this pain. But oblivion did not come, and he was forced to merely continue to hold back his cries of anguish.
"There, that's all I can do," Bree said shakily, sitting back. She felt bad that she couldn't do better, but being the doctor (or instructing someone on how to be the doctor) had always been the role of Chase and Mr. Davenport. She could wrap things up nicely and administer medications, but surgery? Stitches? No, carrying out those medical procedures was not among her abilities.
"Thank-k you," the Nutcracker stuttered before clenching his teeth as he tried sitting up. He felt his blood drain, and dizzily he let himself down again. He had lost far too much blood to do anything at all.
"Just stay there, I'll watch over you," Bree promised as soothingly as she could. It struck her that none of Douglas' rats had attacked them while she had been tending to the Nutcracker, and she looked up to see the last of the Leos chasing and defeating the outnumbered Marcus-rats who remained. She watched as the enemy soldiers dwindled until there was only one Marcus left, and realizing that he could not be victorious, he turned and fled.
To the surprise of the bionic, the Leo soldiers did not celebrate or come see their leader, but instead receded, melting into the shadows that draped the battlefield. Don't they care for the Nutcracker? Bree wondered, miffed on the behalf of the fallen commander.
She stared back down at him, making note of how his breathing had steadied and his muscles had relaxed. Through the eye holes of his mask, she could see that his eyes were closed peacefully. Oh good, sleep will surely help him… right?
Bree couldn't help noticing a change as she stared at the Nutcracker, and she looked up with a frown, scanning all around. Was it just her, or was everything growing darker? No, everything had to be getting darker – how could she imagine how the shadows were encroaching on them, becoming more and more potent with every passing moment? Her breath caught as she saw the dim glow of eyes appear, and it was not just one pair, but many, all blinking into existence.
Whipping her head around, the bionic saw that these eyes surrounded them completely. Us – they're surrounding not me, the Nutcracker, and the fallen bodies, but just me, the Nutcracker, and Douglas. The other bodies – they're gone!
The eyes crept forward, and when one of the pairs stepped into the faint light of their small circle, she saw that it was a Marcus. The rats were back.
"Get away!" Bree growled, jumping to her feet. But no matter how she spun to face them, her backside was always exposed, leaving the Nutcracker exposed on that side as well. There were too many – there was no way she could successfully defend the two of them.
But the rats didn't attack. To Bree's astonishment, the rats only continued to slowly slink forward, always watching her warily. When they were close enough to Douglas, they began dragging him with them back into the darkness, their wormy tails the last to disappear from sight.
When they were gone, Bree let her breath out and crouched back down into a kneeling position. She let her eyes wander back to the mask the Nutcracker wore, examining the beautiful yet simplistic painted features. The skin was painted a sweet peach color with rosy cheeks and nose, the eyes and mouth holes outlined in a dark brown. The mask even had a wispy white beard that sat nicely underneath its pointy nose.
A shuffling drew Bree's attention back to her surroundings, and alarmed, she saw that the eyes were back, watching her avidly as they slowly circled around. They're stalking us! Bree thought worriedly. She rolled back onto her toes and planted her hands on the other side of the Nutcracker, crouching over him protectively. These rats would have to go through her to hurt her nutcracker again.
One stepped forward, and Marcus' ghastly face stared back at her coldly. His dark eyes were the last things she saw before she succumbed to a strange, unexplained sleep.