Act 15: Never Again
Roger woke up hours later on his side hanging halfway off his bed.
The pain from his arm had subsided for the moment but now he was nauseous
because he hadn't eaten. Sitting up, he pushed his hair out of his face
and stared at his reflection in the window. His eyes were bloodshot, his
face was flushed, and he had a sour expression on his face.
"I guess I'm a mess inside and out," he muttered dryly, standing up.
He immidently became dizzy and almost had to sit back down, but managed to
keep himself up.
What if something were to come up? he thought. I'm in no condition
to pilot. if something like that were to happen again.
"Never again," he said suddenly. "I can't do this anymore."
Downstairs, Dorothy and Norman were cleaning when suddenly they heard padded footsteps in the hall. Dorothy kept on cleaning but stopped when she heard Norman exclaim in surprise, "Master Roger!" "So he's up," Dorothy said, not surprised. Putting down the mop, she proceeded to walk out into the other room and sure enough, there he stood. Roger caught a glimpse of her and his heart began to race; trying to ignore it, he kept his eyes on Norman and asked, "Do you think you could fix me something to eat?" "Right away, sir," Norman said in reply and walked out to the kitchen. Roger sighed and folded his arms, absentmindedly scratching the bandages on his left arm. Dorothy noticed this and asked, "Is your arm bothering you?" "No," Roger muttered. Just then, he began to feel dizzy again and put his arms out to steady himself, but he succumbed to the feeling and pitched forward. Luckily, Dorothy stepped in front of him and caught him, one hand on his back and the other on his chest. It took Roger a few moments to regain his senses, but when he did, his cheeks grew warm and he turned around, stammering, "T-thanks." "Are you sure you're well enough to be down here?" Dorothy asked. "And there's certainly no way you can operate Big O for a while." "Never again." "What?" Dorothy asked. "I will never pilot again," Roger told her. "There's no way in hell I will allow myself to go through that again." "What about all those who rely on your protection?" "I don't give a damn about them," was Roger's curt reply. That wasn't the truth; the truth was that was he was too afraid to face greater threats that surely would come up in the future. "That's a lie." "It doesn't matter. I'm not changing my mind," Roger snapped. Silently he cursed himself- he was taking out his frustrations on the last person he wanted- so he added, "I don't want. anyone. to get hurt. Anyone." He knew Dorothy wouldn't pick up on it, but he was talking about her more than anybody. It would kill him if anything were to happen to her while she was trying to help him. Before Dorothy could make a comment, however, Norman came back in with a bowl of soup and said, "Here you are, Master Roger." "Thanks, Norman," Roger told him and went out in the dining room to eat. Dorothy's eyes followed him- she wondered just what was making him so edgy. But she wasn't worried because if she knew him well enough, he would change his mind once he pulled himself together. Sitting in his chair in the dining room, Roger set the soup in front of himself and stared at it. He wasn't really hungry; he just wanted to relieve the nausea in his stomach. Eating the soup, he tried to blank his mind, to get all these emotions out of his head, but to no avail. Coward. you're running away. You're afraid, he thought, afraid to stand up and fight. 'Never again,' you said.but you know you cannot forsake this city. "Damn," he muttered to no one. Putting down his spoon, he stood up and was about to walk out when a noise caught his ears. It was a low rumbling and it was getting louder by the second. "What is that?" Apparently, Dorothy had heard it too and she came in the room. There was dead silence (save the rumbling) for a few moments, then all hell broke loose. The window shattered and men came running in with guns. Roger turned around just in time to see several of them grab Dorothy. Surprisingly enough, they had no problems lifting her off the ground. Roger made a lunge at them, but jerked back to avoid being hit by a bullet. It was so close to him that he felt the air move across his face. "You'd better watch it, Mr. Smith," one of the gunmen sneered. "Or else next time I won't miss." Suddenly the same man let out a cry of surprise and fell forward, unconscious, revealing Norman standing behind him with a fireplace poker. This distracted the rest of the gunmen enough that Roger could make a break for it and go after the men that took Dorothy. But to his surprise, he found they were already gone; when he turned around, all the others were gone too. "What in the hell was that?" he wondered out loud. "Norman, are you alright?" "I am fine, Master Roger," came the reply from the other room. "But they took Miss Dorothy." "I'm going after them. I don't know where they went, but I'm going to find them," Roger told him. "This is personal." Norman didn't ask what he meant by that- he knew he wouldn't get an answer. Instead he asked, "Shall I get your coat, sir?" "No," Roger said. Staring at the shattered window, he silently vowed, Dorothy, I'm coming. I'll find you no matter where you are.
Downstairs, Dorothy and Norman were cleaning when suddenly they heard padded footsteps in the hall. Dorothy kept on cleaning but stopped when she heard Norman exclaim in surprise, "Master Roger!" "So he's up," Dorothy said, not surprised. Putting down the mop, she proceeded to walk out into the other room and sure enough, there he stood. Roger caught a glimpse of her and his heart began to race; trying to ignore it, he kept his eyes on Norman and asked, "Do you think you could fix me something to eat?" "Right away, sir," Norman said in reply and walked out to the kitchen. Roger sighed and folded his arms, absentmindedly scratching the bandages on his left arm. Dorothy noticed this and asked, "Is your arm bothering you?" "No," Roger muttered. Just then, he began to feel dizzy again and put his arms out to steady himself, but he succumbed to the feeling and pitched forward. Luckily, Dorothy stepped in front of him and caught him, one hand on his back and the other on his chest. It took Roger a few moments to regain his senses, but when he did, his cheeks grew warm and he turned around, stammering, "T-thanks." "Are you sure you're well enough to be down here?" Dorothy asked. "And there's certainly no way you can operate Big O for a while." "Never again." "What?" Dorothy asked. "I will never pilot again," Roger told her. "There's no way in hell I will allow myself to go through that again." "What about all those who rely on your protection?" "I don't give a damn about them," was Roger's curt reply. That wasn't the truth; the truth was that was he was too afraid to face greater threats that surely would come up in the future. "That's a lie." "It doesn't matter. I'm not changing my mind," Roger snapped. Silently he cursed himself- he was taking out his frustrations on the last person he wanted- so he added, "I don't want. anyone. to get hurt. Anyone." He knew Dorothy wouldn't pick up on it, but he was talking about her more than anybody. It would kill him if anything were to happen to her while she was trying to help him. Before Dorothy could make a comment, however, Norman came back in with a bowl of soup and said, "Here you are, Master Roger." "Thanks, Norman," Roger told him and went out in the dining room to eat. Dorothy's eyes followed him- she wondered just what was making him so edgy. But she wasn't worried because if she knew him well enough, he would change his mind once he pulled himself together. Sitting in his chair in the dining room, Roger set the soup in front of himself and stared at it. He wasn't really hungry; he just wanted to relieve the nausea in his stomach. Eating the soup, he tried to blank his mind, to get all these emotions out of his head, but to no avail. Coward. you're running away. You're afraid, he thought, afraid to stand up and fight. 'Never again,' you said.but you know you cannot forsake this city. "Damn," he muttered to no one. Putting down his spoon, he stood up and was about to walk out when a noise caught his ears. It was a low rumbling and it was getting louder by the second. "What is that?" Apparently, Dorothy had heard it too and she came in the room. There was dead silence (save the rumbling) for a few moments, then all hell broke loose. The window shattered and men came running in with guns. Roger turned around just in time to see several of them grab Dorothy. Surprisingly enough, they had no problems lifting her off the ground. Roger made a lunge at them, but jerked back to avoid being hit by a bullet. It was so close to him that he felt the air move across his face. "You'd better watch it, Mr. Smith," one of the gunmen sneered. "Or else next time I won't miss." Suddenly the same man let out a cry of surprise and fell forward, unconscious, revealing Norman standing behind him with a fireplace poker. This distracted the rest of the gunmen enough that Roger could make a break for it and go after the men that took Dorothy. But to his surprise, he found they were already gone; when he turned around, all the others were gone too. "What in the hell was that?" he wondered out loud. "Norman, are you alright?" "I am fine, Master Roger," came the reply from the other room. "But they took Miss Dorothy." "I'm going after them. I don't know where they went, but I'm going to find them," Roger told him. "This is personal." Norman didn't ask what he meant by that- he knew he wouldn't get an answer. Instead he asked, "Shall I get your coat, sir?" "No," Roger said. Staring at the shattered window, he silently vowed, Dorothy, I'm coming. I'll find you no matter where you are.