So callous where my mind stays
But it's not my state of mind
I'm not as ugly sad as you
Or am I origami
Folded up and just pretend
Demented as the motives in your head
--from Inside Out by Eve 6
Micah curled into a ball in his mental cage, tears rolling silently down his cheeks.
("What are you going to do?")
The Beast, having finally mastered Micah's body, flexed his hands experimentally.
Do not worry, young Micah. I will see to it that you can watch everything that happens. After all... without you, none of this could be possible.
Micah sobbed and didn't respond.
Oh. Poor child. Would you like to see your little heartthrob?
He sat up straight, suddenly and fully worried.
("What do you want with Gabe?")
The Beast smiled with Micah's lips.
"Oh, you'll see," he murmured, and wheeled the chair into the living room. Gabe would be home fifteen minutes later.
The door slammed. It was a distant sound, but even trapped in his own mind, Micah could hear it. He sat up in his cage.
("Gabe?")
The Beast turned his wheelchair around towards the kitchen, where Gabe had disappeared.
On with the show.
He gave the wheels a push and headed towards the girl. She was digging through the cabinets with jerky little movements of anger; it was plain to see that even though her heart had forgiven Micah, her mind needed to be alerted of this fact.
("You leave her alone, you son of a bitch.")
The Beast smirked inwardly, and Micah shuddered.
You are in no position to call me names, my dear boy.
He wheeled a little closer to Gabe, who didn't give him a second glance.
You're on, child. Make me proud.
And all of a sudden, he was free. Micah gasped at the release and did the first thing he knew to do-- he tried to warn her.
"Gabe!" It was a cry of anguish, pain, immovable sorrow.
Perfect.
Gabe whirled at the tone of his voice. It was another sudden change -- Micah was back in his cage.
("No, wait! I didn't even get to--")
You have served your purpose.
And then he understood. The Beast had only let him go to lure Gabe.
She can't turn away a soul in need. You said so yourself.
Micah let out a growl of mixed pain and anger. He hadn't helped, only brought Gabe closer to doom.
"Micah?" she said softly, and hopped down from the counter. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," the Beast said, voice trembling. It was a horrible mockery of Micah's apologies -- and it sounded exactly like him. "I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to hurt you. I was upset--"
("No, Gabe, don't listen to him!")
"--when I saw Jeremiah kissing you, I lost my head--"
("Please, Gabe, don't!")
"--and I just hope to God that you'll forgive me." Gabe stared at him steadily, one brow raised a little. Micah's hopes rose.
("She can see right through me! She'll know it's not me, not really, she'll see there's something wrong and then you'll be in--")
"Of course," she whispered, and threw her arms around his neck. Micah's heart sank back down to his stomach. The Beast buried his face in Gabe's shoulder with a cruel mockery of Micah's sob.
"Thank you." He smirked over her shoulder, then pulled away and looked up with a small smile. "I'm so glad." Gabe smiled as well and crossed back to the cabinets.
"Me too. It was my fault, too-- but let's not talk about this right now. I have to make dinner 'cause Edith's working late. What do you want--" She produced two cans and shook each one. "--Chef Boyardee Ravioli or Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup?"
"I could think of something better," the Beast said, and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Micah, who had retreated meekly back into his cage, now tensed.
("Don't you touch her. Don't you dare.")
Gabe rolled her eyes and set down one of the cans.
"Chicken soup it is, then." The Beast rolled the wheelchair towards her and slapped his thigh.
"Thou hast hit it! Come, sit on me."
Shakespeare is quite useful among women, is it not?
("Don't you touch her.")
She smirked and turned back to him, knowing what followed.
"Asses are made to bear, and so are you." Micah rattled the bars of his cage desperately.
("Gabe, no! Run!")
The Beast reached out and snagged her wrist, pulling her to him. Gabe stumbled a little, but ended up safely in what was left of his lap.
"Women are made to bear, and so are you," he said in a low voice.
The Taming of the Shrew. Poetic, isn't it?
Micah shook the bars again.
("Let her go!")
Gabe stuck out her tongue at him, not noticing that he was slipping his hands around her wrists -- or perhaps noticing, but trusting him enough that she didn't mind.
"No such jade as bear you, if me--" And she stopped, suddenly aware that the Beast did have her wrists in his hands, and that he was squeezing them rather tightly. "Ow, Micah! Be careful, that hurts!" The Beast smirked darkly and tightened his grip.
"Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry." Gabe struggled now; she tried to pull her hands away, but he held them tightly.
"Micah-- Micah, what's gotten into you?" she asked, sounding both surprised and angry. "Stop it-- stop it, that hurts!"
("It's not me, Gabe! It's not me, I swear-- let go of her, you son of a bitch!")
The Beast pulled her closer still, nose to nose with the struggling girl.
"You're supposed to say 'If I be too waspish, best beware my sting'." Gabe bucked violently, her face twisting as she tried to pull away.
"You're hurting me, Micah! Stop it!" Micah watched helplessly, rattling his bars the best he could.
("GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!")
The Beast chuckled and grinned, a grin that was all teeth and no eyes.
"Aren't you going to give your little cripple a kiss?" And he pressed his lips to Gabe's, hard and fast. For a moment, the bars of Micah's cage turned red hot with anger -- he almost thought it might break with the force of his rage.
("YOU FUCKING BASTARD!")
Such words. They hurt.
Gabe made a loud sound of protest and jerked violently, finally breaking free of the Beast's grip.
"What the hell is your problem?" she cried, stumbling into the counter. The Beast chuckled again and wheeled towards her.
"Now you're mad at me. I thought you said that all was forgiven." Gabe looked up, and something in her eyes flashed. Micah's cage had cooled down again. He stared at her helplessly.
("Gabe, please, don't be mad at me... It's not me, really, I swear...")
"You and your pride," she spat, and stormed from the kitchen.
Micah covered his face with his hands.
("She hates me.")
No, dear boy. She hates me.
The Beast tapped his chin thoughtfully, alone now in the kitchen.
Which might put a damper on things.
Micah looked up, glaring, and suddenly smiled.
("That's right! If she hates you, she won't even get near you! I've seen Gabe when she's mad! Your plan is ruined now, you...")
But he trailed off, because the Beast was smirking calmly.
You underestimate me, my child.
Micah felt a cold chill slither through him.
("What are you going to do?")
His voice was weak, because he was almost sure he knew.
I can try to convince her to see things my way. Or--
There was a horrible feeling that suddenly shot through Micah. It was like a hand being plunged inside his heart, a sense of something being terribly, terribly violated. The Beast was digging through his memories.
--or we can try something you suggested yourself.
His own voice echoed through his head, cold and calm and stony.
"Cut out her tongue and carve out her heart."
Micah felt a violent shudder run through him.
("No, no, please--")
Sound familiar?
The Beast wheeled slowly towards the living room. Gabe wasn't there; she was in her room.
You said it, Micah. Not me.
He approached the door quietly.
("Please, don't, I'm begging you--")
Stop it. Mercy does not interest me.
Micah shook the bars hard.
("Don't you dare hurt her!")
It is her own choice. She will decide her own fate.
The Beast took the doorknob and turned.
Let's hope she chooses the wisely.