Title: Growing Pains
Characters: Smith!Bane, Malachi, Ballard
Synopsis: It begins shortly after he opens his eyes on board the ship. He immediately closes them, because the smell has just hit his nostrils and it's everything he can do not to gag. Smith's first hours on the Caduceus .
Spoilers: For Reloaded, Revolutions, and Enter the Matrix.
Rating:PG-13 for violence and mature themes, including self-inflicted cuts.
Growing Pains
It begins shortly after he opens his eyes on board the ship.
He immediately closes them, because the smell has just hit his nostrils and it's everything he can do not to gag, vomit all over the repulsive vermin that looms over him, grinning.
"We made it! Damn, it looked like that Agent was gonna get you for a second there." He looks up at - Malachi - the memories stored in the hijacked brain tell him.
He forces a returning smile. "It would take more than an agent to stop me from fulfilling my... mission." He smirks, because it's not a lie. Apparently bravado is unusual for this - Bane, say the memories, and he almost laughs at the appropriateness of it - because Malachi looks confused, but chuckles.
He'll have to be more careful. There will be a time, soon, when this charade won't be necessary, but for now he has to lay low, bide his time until they take him to Zion.
"I... need to rest" he says, lurching to his feet. "That was a close call and I'm really not feeling well." He's still not lying, the sensations of this body are assaulting him on every side.
The smaller, darker one nods – Ballard, the Captain, Bane's memories chime in – and says "Yeah Bane, get your ass to your cabin, we'll let you know when we get to Zion."
He smiles, genuinely this time. "Good," he purrs, then hurries off letting the body's motor memory propel him to the right room, leaving the filth to exchange nervous glances at each other.
He's almost there when he stops dead, an entirely new sensation ripping through him. He looks down and sees he's caught Bane's hand on a jutting piece of metal, tearing the skin open and letting the blood run down. The coppery scent reaches his nostrils and he snarls, his disgust momentarily overriding the rush from the… pain, human memory informs him. So this is pain.
Later, he sits on Bane's bunk, staring at the wound. This is what he will do to Anderson. This is how he will feel. It's sharp and intense, overriding all else, the most sickeningly thrilling emotion his perverse experience has brought him.
His hands close around the instrument he knows is in Bane's storage locker under the bed, and he levels it to his arm. Not that way instinct informs him, stopping him from the fatal move of opening the artery. He tentatively scrapes the knife across the outside of the arm, and shudders when another flood of intense sensation results. Disgusting. Revolting. Sickening. Thrilling. Addictive.
By the time they reach Zion, the scars are already deep enough to be permanent.