Short Story: All That Remains

[strangetomato]

Warnings: violence, death, sexual situations, some language





All That Remains




The night was warm, the air thick.




Though late, there was plenty of sound carrying up from the street below. It was rarely silent in that part of town, and he was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts.

Ripp watched as people stumbled from the clubs below, as couples yelled at each other and men fought. It was always the same, and he watched. He watched, but didn't participate.

He reached for his bottle, only to find it empty. Had he really drank it already?

His cigarettes had run out, too. He could call it a night.

He probably should.




Below him, he heard the heavy door at the side of the club open, its rusty hinges like nails on a chalkboard. The sounds of female voices filled the alley.

Maybe he'd go buy another pack, he decided.




He leaned up against the wall, covered the smoke with his hand, and lit it. He took a long drag, closed his eyes and waited.

He heard the click of her heels approaching, but didn't look up until she spoke.

"Got a light?"

"Maybe."

That was all it took.




"So you live here alone?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Nice part of town. Rent must be crazy."

"I get by." She returned his wry smile and continued to look around the room. Seeming satisfied with it, she turned her eyes back to him.

"You in the war?" She gestured toward the patch, which covered his left eye socket. "That where you... got that?" He paused a moment before responding, feeling her eyes move over the many scars on his face. He nodded.

"Something like that."

In a sense, it wasn't even a lie.




"Get up!"

He remembered it like it had happened just that morning.

"Get up, you worthless sack of shit! Get up and face me like a man for once!"

Would it have made a difference if he had? Would Tank have taken it easier on him? Would he have let him go unbroken? Whole? He'd like to believe so, but doubts lingered.

"My eye... Oh God, my eye..." He felt a sickening pain shoot from deep in his eye socket up into his skull and back down his neck. Hot blood where his eye ought to have been. Hollowness.

"Now get the fuck out of here before you lose the other one. Don't think I won't."




"What are you going to do to him?"

"What we have to do. Now get the fuck out of here! You knew you shouldn't have come down here." As if this excused his actions, somehow. "You knew..."




"How about you?" he said, shaking it off with a practised smile. His thoughts had drifted only briefly, but long enough for her to catch him with his guard down, if he let her. He wouldn't.

"What about me?"

"You like it rough, too, huh?" He reached forward and placed his hand on her ribcage, below her left breast. She'd taken great care to cover the bruise with makeup so the patrons of the club wouldn't see, but some had brushed off.

She seized his hand, moving it upwards.

He grinned, moving on her with an empty mind and a ceaseless, animal hunger.




His question, left hanging in the air; her answer, her story, was never given.




"What would he think? If he knew..."

"I can't see how that matters now," she said, without looking up.

"You know, I've wanted this. I've always —"

She silenced him with a kiss. And another. And then another. It was all she'd offered him in response.




"Why are you telling me this?" asked Johnny.

Instead of answering, Ripp continued. There wasn't time to explain. "I'm taking her away from here," he said. "They won't know the difference..."

Johnny stood, silent, his head hanging forward.

"I have to," Ripp said. "It's the only way."

Johnny's nod was barely perceptible. "You'd better go..." They both knew that Tank would kill Ripp this time if he found him there.

"Listen... if you get out of here... If somehow..."

Johnny closed his eyes.

"You can find me. Search around. I'll be in the phonebook. Some stupid name. Say, Oliver Green... Oliver O. Green." In happier times, they might have laughed. "Yeah, that. That will be me. Find me, alright? I'll be waiting."

Again, Johnny nodded, but he didn't smile.

"Listen..." Ripp reached through the bars for Johnny's shoulder, pulling him forward to look into his one gleaming eye. "I'll be there. You know I will. I'll always..."

All the words they'd never said and never would say hung in the silence.




She pulled out a cigarette. "Can I get another light?"

"You smoke a lot," he said. "You should buy a lighter."

"I like having to ask. It's a good opening line."

"I'll bet." He grinned, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to pull out the familiar object. His hand extended, then froze in the air between them. In another room, a sound disturbed them.

"What the hell?" she asked.




And he remembered another time, when he'd first heard that sound. Her face had shown true fear. More fearful than he'd been when Tank had found him. More fearful than Johnny. It was the truest fear there was.

"I tried it, you know." He words seemed to come from somewhere beyond her own body.

He couldn't speak.

"I wanted this. I wanted it to end. Even yesterday, I wanted it." Her grip on his arm tightened, cutting off the circulation. "But now... now that it's happening, I know it's real. I didn't know what it meant, to die. Now that I know, I really know what it is, and it's too late... now I don't want to go."

"Oh God..."

"Take care of him."

"No... " He could barely see her through the tears. He clung to her, hoping beyond reason that she'd be okay. "No, don't!"

"It was real, you know..." Her smile was real, despite the pain. "Us... It was... Oh God, it's coming!"

And what happened next was too horrible to even remember.




"Was that... a baby?" she asked.

He should have stopped her, as she stood up, walked from the room, but he couldn't move. The whole thing had been a bad idea, bringing her up there.




"Phi," he cried. "Oh Phi, Oh God... No..." But there was nobody left to speak to. Then a sound...

Crying.




"Oh my god! It's a —"




"A boy. It's a boy, just like you said, Phi."




"How are you... I thought they died, all... the men who had them." She turned to him, eyes wide, as if looking into the face of a ghost. "But you're alive..."

The statement hung, on the verge of becoming a question.




She thought she saw the briefest movement, an impulse in him to react, before he turned his head and resumed that well-worn smile of his.

"You should go," he said.

---

Notes:

This story was inspired by the Strangetown storyline in the PSP version of Sims 2, which has Johnny locked up in a facility by the Grunts, and Tank's strained relationship with Ripp has degenerated to something much more abusive. It also uses the idea that alien births are fatal to those who carry the hybrids, which I first considered in this post. This grim trait even passes on to the 1/4 alien births, which was something the sims weren't initially sure of. This story does share some minor details with Strangetown, Here We Come, but I won't tell you what those are. You'll have to wait and see.

It seems the more I like a character, the more I want to put them through the wringer. What does that say about me, I wonder? *nervous sweat* Strangetown, Here We Come is not exempt from this tendency, either, just in case you thought it was, but I'll admit that I've redirected some of them from their much unhappier original character trajectory.

Ripp, for example, was originally meant to flunk out of university, live alone in a filthy apartment (just like in this story! :P I'm so creative...), and become a hopeless alcoholic. I did eventually have him lined up to bounce back to a happy(ish) ending in a couple of versions, but there was also one where he dies a horrible death. (Just thought I'd throw that out there for those who think my original intention was for Johnny to end up with Jayne so Ripp/Phi could happen. It wasn't.) Happy times.

And now for some cc notes: The more realistic Maxis-match skins and eyes are by Summerdream Sims (aka the incomparable Neena/Ninika/chokelate, woman of many names and awesome Maxis-match cc), the alien skin is Uranium P32 Space Modulator by bondchick_nett, and I used a number of lots from the Soho project by Rosehill9991 at MTS2. I love them and use them all the time. There are also the usual suspects, like Phobia and Simgaroop for hair, and build/buy mode stuff from GoS. (Lovely, lovely Maxis-match clutter!) Feel free to ask about anything else you see that I haven't mentioned specifically, since I utterly fail at being organized and posting a resources page.

The notes are longer than the story! XD And, with that, I must go... Thanks for reading!

Comments

[profbutters.livejournal.com]

Well, I liked it! And yeah. We Sims writers always hurt the ones we love, although I am really cranky at Tank for hurting Ripp (destroying his eye? that's--ugh.)

[strange-tomato.livejournal.com]

It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. (I couldn't resist! :P)

This version of Tank is a real a-hole, no doubt about it, with very few redeeming qualities (though I suppose it's a fine line, since he also beats up Ripp and breaks his nose in S,HWC). I see him as essentially the same interpretation of the character, but this Tank takes a bad turn at some very important juncture. I really see him as capable of going either way as a character, just as I see Ripp as having the potential to either be utterly consumed by his passions or eventually learn to find his way in life and develop his kind and more nurturing side (and this version has a little of both, though one might wonder about his parenting skills).

Thanks for the kind words. ^_^ I'm glad you enjoyed it.

(Love your icon, by the way. :D Remus is my favourite Harry Potter character.)