Title: XBC
Author: Roth
Rating: T (Just to be safe)
Spoilers: Major spoilers: What About Bob, Birds of a Feather, Rules of Engagement, and Soul Beneficiary
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dresden Files (the television show or the book series). No money being made. Like most people, I work a crappy job to earn my cash.
Summary: An AU to What about Bob. I bet you can guess what happens.
Note: So this is it. The last chapter. I hope you have enjoyed, and I hope you don't feel as though you've wasted your time. May the force be with you. BYE!
X.B.C.
Chapter XI: Breaking Bonds
"Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday."
-John Wayne
Bob swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes, hearing the swish of the sword swinging through the air above Harry's desperate pleas. It wouldn't be long, and he prayed the pain would be quick. The horrid sting of the blade never came, and instead Bob felt a heavy thud on his wrists and heard the sound of metal striking metal. Cracking open an eye, Bob saw the manacles that had been circling his wrists lying in pieces on the coffee table. He looked up and saw Morgan standing over him with his sword at his side.
"Hrothbert of Bainbridge," started Morgan, using an official sounding voice, "you are hereby under strict...probation. Your sentence of an eternity bound to your skull for crimes against life is being...reconsidered. From now until the end of you life, be it a natural death or not, you will be monitored closely by the High Council. If at the time of your death your actions are..." He paused, looking as though he swallowed a bug. "Satisfactory, your punishment will be revoked, and you will be allowed to move on."
Bob's mouth was hanging open as he got to his feet. He rubbed his wrists where the manacles had been and finally found his voice. "Probation?"
"Like your little delinquent friend over there," said Morgan, gesturing absently over his shoulder. The spell that had been holding Harry to the wall disappeared, and Harry stumbled over to Bob and Morgan.
"You didn't come here to kill him?" said Harry, obviously confused.
"Trust me, if I had come here to kill him, he would be dead." Bob and Harry both winced at the venom in Morgan's voice.
"You couldn't have given us a little bit of warning?" demanded Harry. Bob still seemed dumbstruck.
Morgan turned toward Harry with raised eyebrows. "I had to make him see the seriousness of the situation." Harry saw a smile in Morgan's eyes; he'd enjoyed scaring the Hell out of them both. "If I had just come in here and said that the High Council was reconsidering one of their sentences and giving a doomed soul a second chance, well, it wouldn't of had the same effect, would it?" He turned back toward Bob and was about to address him, but Harry spoke again.
"The Council doesn't give second chances."
Morgan turned completely around toward Harry this time. "The Council, despite what you think, can recognize when people change." It seemed like every word was pulled from him by a stampede of wild horse. "Besides, you got one of the biggest second chances ever. Do you think you're so special that you're the only one who ever got or will get a second chance?"
Harry stared at Morgan, but couldn't think of a response. "I thought as much," said the warden. He faced Bob. "Hrothbert of Bainbridge." Bob looked up from his wrists; he still seemed pretty amazed by their lack of chains. "You have a second chance, and that is not something the Council gives lightly. Consider this your one and only warning. The Council will be keeping a close eye on you, it is a one strike you're out type of situation." Morgan ended abruptly and started walking toward the door. He paused suddenly. "Dresden?"
Harry looked up. "Yeah?"
"I'd be careful about what I say to wardens if I was you. Promising to 'hunt me down and kill me' for any reason does not look good to the Council, and remember, we've got a close eye on you too."
Harry nodded nervously. "Mind if I ask a question."
"Yes, I do."
Harry ignored him. "Why did it take a week?"
"Do you realize how long it takes to get all the members of the High Council together? It's a lot of work, and then they had to discuss. It would normally take longer than a week, but we wanted to hurry in case your friend tried to take off." Harry and Morgan glared at each other. "One more thing, just because you never mentioned the High Council's name doesn't mean I don't know about your conversation with your cop friend. I'm watching you, Dresden."
"I'm flattered," Harry scoffed.
Morgan narrowed his eyes again. "Good day." That was the last thing Morgan said before he walked out the door.
It was a long thirty seconds for a dumbstruck Harry and Bob before either of them said anything. "Now there's something that doesn't happen everyday." He looked over his shoulder; Bob was slowly reaching down toward the coffee table. "Morgan said good day. He's not usually polite like that." Bob didn't respond at all to his attempt to lighten the mood. "Bob, are you okay?"
Without responding, Bob picked up one of the broken manacle pieces with enough caution one would think the pieces would bite. He stared at the small piece of iron as it rested in the palm of his hand. "Second chance?" he muttered to Harry. "I-I have a second chance?"
"With probation."
Bob looked up from the piece and starred at Harry. "I can handle that," he said as a wary smile crept onto his face. "I can."
Harry walked over to his friend stood and bent to pick up the rest of the broken manacles off the coffee table. "What do you want to do with these?"
Bob stared at the pile of iron in Harry's hand and then took it from him. "I want to keep them; I want a reminder of what I need to do or not to do escape this."
"You're going to, Bob." He clapped his friend on the back. "I got faith in you."
Bob turned toward Harry suddenly when he heard the word 'faith' again. He gave his friend a smile. "Thank you."
Later that night, Bob was back in the lab again. He was staring at the many pieces of iron that used to be the biggest symbol of his punishment; all of them were inside a small black box. With a sigh, Bob closed the lid and placed the box on one of the shelves. It was kind of scary and almost daunting not knowing what to expect from the future anymore. Before, it had been a lifetime of a damned soul with no chance for escape; he would watch those he knew die, see the world change, and exist forever whether he wanted to or not. Now, however, well it was up to him, and it scared him. The unknown, however, was fine by him because he got something much better in return, something he hadn't had in 700 years: hope. There was no way he was going to mess that up.
"A very fair trade indeed," Bob murmured to himself. He took one last look at the box and then walked out of the lab.
Finem