Gaby, Patrick, Scott, Jimmy Duran, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; sexual content.
Another story finished. Hope everyone enjoyed, and my thanks to all who read and especially all who reviewed. Thanks as always to my beta's, Cecilia and Jenny. I'm sorry to see this end, in a way, I became very fond of Scott/Silver and Patrick/Purple, and hope you liked them too.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"You were right, you know," Patrick said to Gaby. "Norman's mutating treatment, and the drugs he used to make his appearance normal again, affected his mind. He became quite insane. We knew it, but could do nothing about it, since he didn't want to recover."
He and Scott were moving around the room, collecting a pile of machinery and vials of liquids, packing them in a small trunk. Wes, Violet, Eric, and Gaby watched them, still handcuffed and tied up. Scott paused long enough to take up the explanation.
"And you were right," he said to Eric. "Norman would never be happy, not the way he was. Once we realized that, we decided on the one course of action open to us. The one logical way to fulfill our purpose, to serve Norman."
"I think I know," Wes said. "You're going to reprogram him."
"Right. The drug he was going to use on Gaby has already permanently wiped out his memories. Now he has the mentality of a newborn baby. We'll also use another treatment, to reverse the mutating effect. Make him completely, normally human again." Scott glanced down at Norman, still lying on the floor where they had left him, apparently unconscious. "We're taking the reprogramming unit. With it, we will give him a new mind, a new personality. One that will be happy, that will find everything he wants in a quiet, simple life. The three of us will start over."
"Where are you going to take him?" Eric asked.
"We'll use the transporter. It worked perfectly before, by the way, allowing us to escape from the explosion in the silver mine. I'm quite pleased that you escaped also."
"We already have another location, another hideout, if you will. Not in this country," Patrick picked up. "For obvious reasons, we won't tell you where. A good part of Norman's fortune is deposited in several Swiss bank accounts, and of course we can pose as him to get it. We'll become three wealthy brothers, remarkable only for looking alike. Norman will be like a child again, ready for us to mold him into a happy and productive person. Scott and I will guard and protect him for the rest of his life. He won't be causing any more trouble."
"What about us?" Gaby asked.
"The police and Guardians have arrived. In moments they'll decide not to wait for a warrant, and begin to search upstairs. Eric left the door panel to the stairway leading down here open. It won't take them long to find you. By then we'll be gone, and the transporter will self-destruct. Don't worry, the explosion will be small, you won't be in any danger."
"I believe we're ready," Scott said, stepping to his side, holding another of the injector devices in his hand. He looked down, and then knelt in front of Violet, and pressed the needle against her arm. "Don't be afraid," he said as she flinched and gasped. "This won't harm you. We're just giving back what we took from you. Your past." The device hissed faintly against her skin.
"These belong to you," Patrick said. He bent to set Wes and Eric's morphers on the floor in front of them.
"And one last thing to return," Scott continued. He held up an object in his other hand. A ring, the diamond glinting brightly in the light. He tucked it into Violet's pocket, and reached out to gently touch her cheek. "Goodbye, Violet. We'll miss you. I came to care for you very much."
"Goodbye," Patrick murmured beside him, a hand reaching down to brush his fingers over her hair. "Try to remember us with kindness."
She looked up at them as Scott straightened. "I -- I will..." She blinked, a tear running down her face, then another. "Good luck. I hope you'll have a good life."
"If robots can be said to have a life, we will."
They backed away, but Patrick turned to look at Gaby. "We have Norman's memories and emotions, as you know," he said. "I have many of the feelings he had for you. The good ones, before the drugs distorted them. The admiration, the beginnings of genuine affection." He paused, smiling gently as Eric scowled. "Goodbye. I hope Eric will be good to you."
Patrick lifted the trunk full of machinery and equipment as if it was weightless. Scott stooped and scooped Norman into his arms. They stood for another moment, taking a last look, until Scott said, "Don't forget us," smiled, and turned away. In a moment they were gone, into the next room. Another few seconds, a hum, then a loud crack, and a puff of smoke wafted through the doorway. They were still coughing when the Guardians and police burst in.
"Wes... Wes... Wes!"
"Violet, I'm right here. Wake up."
His voice penetrated her dream, bringing her through the last layers of half-sleep. With a start, she opened her eyes. "Oh... a dream..." she gasped.
"Are you all right?" Wes was standing over the bed, his face shadowed by light from the hallway.
"I'm fine..." She pushed up into a sitting position, squinting in the brightness, until he closed the door, leaving them in the soft glow of dawn from the window.
"What are you doing in here?"
"Here?" She looked around. Their room. Why shouldn't she be here? But even as the question ran through her mind, she knew.
After Scott and Patrick's departure with Norman three days ago, she had moved into Wes's house. She remembered the hopeful look on his face that first night, as he led her into this room, the bedroom he said they had shared, his disappointment when she had to tell him she didn't recognize it.
"But Scott must have given you something to restore your memory," Wes had said. "What else could he have meant, when he said he was giving back your past?"
"I think you're right. But it might not work right away. Or not completely."Or it might not work at all, she had thought, but only to herself.
She had moved into another guest room, not feeling right about sleeping with Wes, not yet. He hadn't objected, probably feeling equally uncomfortable. And by mutual consent, they had not returned to this room.
But last night, something had happened. She had begun to have strange sensations, wisps of thoughts and emotions drifting through her mind, vague images, voices she couldn't quite make out. It was frightening, but she hadn't told anyone, only gone to her guest bedroom early, claiming to have a headache. She remembered going to bed, and then as if in a dream, getting up, looking around... thinking vaguely, This isn't my room...
It had seemed natural to return here, to their room, to get in bed, to close her eyes again in this familiar place. Because it was familiar, now... She smiled up at Wes. "I dreamed I was in the silver mine again. Running through the tunnels. You were chasing me, calling me, trying to save me..."
His face lit. "You mean... you can remember the mine?"
"Yes. I remember. Not just the mine and Norman, all of it. Us." He grinned, sat on the bed and leaned over to take her in his arms, squeezing her almost painfully as she clutched at him, a sudden wave of relief and happiness overcoming her. When he moved away, his eyes were suspiciously bright, as she imagined hers were too.
"Do you remember meeting me?" he asked eagerly. "Lucas, Trip, Katie? Time Force? The clock tower? When we first kissed, in the garden?"
"Yes, everything." She laughed as he kissed her eagerly, and hugged her tight again.
"God, Jen, I was so scared," he mumbled, almost unintelligibly. Then his voice strengthened. "I love you."
"I love you too. So much."
He abruptly let go and stood up. "I have something for you," he said, taking a few steps to a cabinet against the wall. A moment later he was back, grinning, holding something out for her.
"My morpher!" she gasped. "Where...?"
"Eric found it two months ago, in the mine. Now that you're -- yourself again, you should have it back."
"Thanks." She placed it on her wrist, the sight of it stinging her eyes with more tears. She wiped them away, and looked up as he sat beside her again and took her hands. "Wes..." she said. "Let's get married."
A trace of concern crossed his face as he peered at her. "We're already engaged... Don't you..."
"Yes, I remember. You proposed in the garden. Very sweet, too." She raised her left hand to glance at her ring, back in its place on her finger. "I mean, let's go ahead. Set a date. I have one in mind."
"That sounds great," he said when she told him. "Not too far off. Not too soon."
"And very romantic." She smiled and raised a hand to his chest, trailing it down from his throat slowly. "I remember other things too..." One finger traced down to his waist and teasingly lower. Another emotion began to join the joy in his face as his eyes took on a familiar look. "But I might need some help with the details..." Both of her hands rose this time, and began to unbutton his pajama tops.
"Anything to oblige," he said huskily, his fingers slowly running up her arms before fumbling with her own buttons, then impatiently tugging her top up over her head. He just looked for a moment, then leaned in to kiss her lingeringly, his tongue gliding against hers.
"Let's make some new memories..." she murmured as they sank onto the bed.
"Er-ric..."
"Mmm... what?"
"Time to get up."
He rolled over and peered at Gaby, rumpled brown hair, sleep-puffy eyes, now blinking at him. "Already?"
"Yep. Come on."
"Just a few more minutes..."
The last couple of days had felt like a vacation, after their ordeal. The police had freed them, but then there had been a seemingly endless round of questions, both at the farmhouse and at the police station, the rest of that day and part of the next. He knew their story was fairly unbelievable. Fortunately, they had been able to stick fairly close to the truth, only leaving out Scott and Patrick's use of the transporter, claiming they didn't know how the two robots and the mutant had escaped.
Then, Mr. Collins had persuaded both him and Wes to take a few days off. Sleeping late, no uniform, no schedule... A guy could get used to this. And Gaby had taken some time off, too, to be with him, putting the finishing touches on the house, just hanging out, talking... and other activities... It had been nice, very nice, especially after coming so close to losing her. The memory ran through his mind again of what she had said, about loving him. He still didn't know how to respond. Only that it made him happy.
But life went on, as it had a tendency to do... "We have to meet the contractor at the house for a last inspection, remember?" Gaby said. "If everything's okay, you can start moving back." She sat up and started to slide towards the foot of the bed.
"No..." He grinned and pulled her back. "I wanna make love to you..."
"Now?" She grimaced. "I have to brush my teeth first."
"No, right now..." He pulled her closer for a kiss.
"Geez, you'll do anything to avoid getting out of bed, won't you? At least brush your teeth!"
"All right, all right." With a chuckle, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. "Race you to the bathroom."
"Hey! No fair!" Laughing, she chased him across the room.
Ten minutes later, teeth brushed, face washed, and sitting on the bed, Eric glanced up as Gaby popped her head out of the bathroom. "Mind if I go first in the shower?" she asked.
"Gaby..." He knew what he wanted to say, but... how to start? What words to use, how to put it...? "You know, my house has two bathrooms," he heard himself say.
"Yeah, so?"
"If we lived there, we could each have one."
She was quiet for a moment, watching him as she stepped back into the bedroom. "What do you mean?" she asked.
He shrugged, looking down at the floor now, wondering if she could hear his heart pound. "Well, we've been spending a lot of time together. I think it's gone pretty well."
"Pretty well."
"And you've done so much work on my house. Fixed it up really nice. Doesn't seem fair for you not to get to enjoy it full time."
"I guess."
"We've kind of gotten used to each other, haven't we? I figure we'd be together most nights anyway." He turned his eyes towards her again.
"Are you trying to ask me to move in?" There was more of surprise in her voice than anything else.
"Well, yeah. We could save a lot of time that way. And money. Seems like the practical thing to do."
She hesitated, looking at him searchingly, her face unrevealing. "Are you sure that's what you want? Really sure?"
"Sure I'm sure. I don't say what I don't mean. And I -- I've thought about it a lot. Won't change my mind on you." Her expression was still unreadable as he rushed on. "The truth is, I miss you when you're not around. I want you with me, all the time." He stopped, dropping his gaze to the floor again, feeling himself flush.
She was in front of him now, her fingers under his chin tilting his face up, staring into his eyes as he looked up into her face, seeing it become tender as she bent down, just brushing his lips with hers. "You're really a hopeless romantic, aren't you?" she murmured.
He chuckled, raising a hand to run his fingers over her arm. "Or maybe just hopeless... So -- what's the answer?"
That soft smile was still on her face when she moved in to kiss him. "I think that might be acceptable," she said softly, a hand stroking his cheek. "In fact I love the idea." Another lingering kiss, then she was climbing onto the bed, on top of him as he lay back.
"Um... what about the contractor?" he asked.
"We can take a time-saving shower together. Later."
"I propose a toast." Alan Collins raised his glass as they sat around the long coffee table in the large, luxurious living room of the Collins house. Wes smiled, watching his father in one of his favorite roles, playing host at this small party he was giving to celebrate Jen's return. "To Steve, first. Glad to see you looking so well."
"Thanks, sir." Steve raised a hand self-consciously to his head, still sporting a bandage. "Good to get out of the hospital and back home."
"Now, Steve," Alan said with pretended annoyance. "Haven't I told you to call me Alan outside of the office?"
"Right, sir. I mean Alan. Sorry." They all smiled.
"Next, to Jen. Wonderful to have you back."
"Thank you, Alan. It's wonderful to be back with all of you." She took Wes's hand and raised her brows at him.
"Dad, we have an announcement," he said, waiting for them all to lower their glasses and look at him. "Jen and I have set a date. Finally." He grinned happily. "Valentine's Day."
"That's great, son! About time you two settled on a day..." Alan's voice rose above the murmurs of congratulation. "Any plans on where to have it?"
"We were thinking here, in the house, maybe out in the flower garden. There's certainly enough room."
"Good idea." They exchanged a smile. Wes knew his father would have been disappointed if their wedding wasn't held in the house where he had grown up.
"We have news, too," Gaby said, smiling at Eric.
He glanced around, looking slightly embarrassed, and took Gaby's hand. "It's not as big as yours..."
"Just tell them," she said, nudging him.
"Gaby and I are moving into my house together."
"That's great, Eric!" Wes said, as they all raised their glasses again. I'm sure you'll be happy."
"Yeah. You and Jen, too."
"Happy..." Jen said thoughtfully. "I wonder how Norman's doing. What he's like now."
"Whatever he's like, it's bound to be a big improvement," Wes muttered.
"Strange, but I kind of feel sorry for him. In a way, Scott and Patrick killed him. The Norman Ryder we knew doesn't exist anymore; someone else is living in his body."
"The important thing is he's no danger anymore. And I guess he's been punished."
"Punished, by being happy? It's too good for him," Eric said harshly. "If it was up to me, I'd string him up by the..."
"Eric..." Wes glanced at his father, who failed to look even remotely shocked.
"I have to go with Eric," Gaby said, her voice hard. "Norman's dead, even if his body's walking around. But he deserved everything he got."
"He was sick," Jen said. "You said it yourself, those drugs drove him insane."
"I guess." She didn't look convinced. "Well, I'm just glad he's gone."
"We can all drink to that." Alan and Steve raised their glasses. Eric muttered in agreement.
"You know, I still can't believe none of us suspected Scott and Patrick were Silver and Purple," Eric said. "It seems so obvious now; we should have known from the beginning."
"I was too busy thinking about whether Violet was really Jen," Wes said.
"And I don't think it occurred to any of us that Silver and Purple could have seemed so -- human," Gaby added. "It's still pretty incredible. They seemed like they were alive."
Jen glanced around at all of them. "I've wondered about that. Some people think of life in biological terms, or religious... The human brain is really a computer, after all. All our thoughts, all our emotions, our memories, consist of nerves, electricity, chemical reactions. Build an electronic computer that's complex enough, wired like a brain, program it the right way, and it'll function just like a human." With a half-smile, she shrugged. "Scott and Patrick acted like living people. They expressed emotions, they seemed to be self-aware, they struggled with the decisions they had to make. I think they are alive."
"They sure seemed more human than Norman," Wes commented.
"I've wondered about that too," Jen said. "They were programmed with Norman's memories and emotions. But they were different from him. As if they got the better parts of his mind."
"Maybe he left out the bad parts, when he transferred his mind into them," Gaby said softly. "Left out the bugs, so to speak, the flaws. Created better versions of himself."
"Maybe," Eric put in. "Or maybe they were just themselves. Just -- developed their own personalities, despite the programming."
"I think that should be our last toast," Alan said into the silence that followed. "To Scott and Patrick. Wherever they are. Good luck to them."
The party was breaking up, Steve had gone home, Wes's father was off in another room. Jen and Gaby were quietly talking on the sofa, Eric had wandered to a window and was looking out at the garden. One more thing to do, and now was the time, Wes decided. He got up and crossed the room to join his partner.
"So," he said, suddenly hesitant.
Eric turned to him and raised a brow. "Nice party," he said.
"Congratulations on your new roommate."
"Thanks." They both stared out into the night for a few moments.
"About our wedding."
Another quizzical look as Eric's eyebrows climbed again. "Yeah?"
"Jen's asking Gaby to be her maid of honor."
Eric glanced at the two women. "I'm sure she'll be glad to do it," he said after a pause, his voice neutral.
"Yeah. They're probably talking about dresses and stuff right now."
"Probably."
"And I'd like you to be my best man."
"Really?" Wes heard genuine surprise in that question.
"Yes, really," Wes said. "Who did you think I was going to ask?"
"I dunno. Steve. Your father."
"Nope. You."
"Even after -- everything?"
"Yeah." He paused. "I just hope -- we're finally okay."
"I guess we are." Eric smiled just slightly, his eyes warming. Then he grinned, the old spark of rough humor in his voice as he added, "About time you realized who's the best man around here!"