Not Alone

The Last Dance

AN: Hi everyone sorry for not updating for so long I have been distracted and was stuck with the plot, but I'm back again.

The teleportation brought him to a cold, damp place. His head was still stuffed into a bag, and two mutants had hold of him, one gripping each of his arms as they dragged him forward.

Brown could hear voices around him speaking Skibidi.

"How funny... he has the upper body of a Camera Agent, but the legs of a Speakerman. The Alliance must be lower on resources than we thought if they're resorting to such things."

"Is he going to used for a mutant?"

"Who knows?" 

"That's not a very high-quality body. I wouldn't want it."

Brown was sure he was deep underground, being pulled through the corridors of a labyrinth. He could imagine thousands of tons of earth above him, hiding him and what was to become of him from all thought and memory. No one— his Titan, his friends, TV Woman— would ever know his fate. Perhaps, he thought unhappily, they might never even wonder about it. 

It seemed he was even less important than he'd thought. 

Would TV Woman even think anything of it if she met a Mutant wearing a brown coat and a striped tie?

He should have fought while he had the chance, he thought bitterly.

Gone out of the world with some dignity intact. Grabbed a rock, anything, and tried to take at least one of the corpse-wearers with him, or at least given them a few injuries to remember him by.

He pulled and thrashed at the two holding him, trying to escape their grip, but the beating he had taken earlier had taken a toll and his body was weak and sore. All he could do was let his feet drag on the ground, trying to be as much of a burden as possible.

The march stopped, and the bag was brusquely ripped off his head. Brown found himself in a rectangular room with a low ceiling, and for the first time in far too long, he saw other agents, live ones, their heads still on their bodies. Cameramen, two ordinary and one Large agent, sat facing away from him, cross legged or kneeling, all gazing at something. They seemed to be transfixed on the far wall, which was composed of a huge television screen, displaying nothing except glowing purple light. 

When Brown saw it, his mind went still. 

Those shimmering violet rays... they reminded him of something... TV Woman, in her turtleneck... 

The light was soft and gentle, and it seemed to soothe all the aches away from his body and mind.    

Looking into that screen, Brown felt like he could forget about the war, all the silly fighting.

Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was the easiest thing. He could just stop, stop fighting and stop thinking and caring, and stop being unhappy. 

Brown fell to his knees like a little child praying. All the pain was gone, all the anger, all the fear... nothing but violet starlight that made everything he had used to be so upset about feel silly and unimportant.

He let it take over his mind, kissing away every unpleasant little thought. 

Wait...

Someone was tugging at his elbow.

Stop it. 

Leave me alone. I don't want to do anything but look at this wonderful screen. 

But the tugging continued, more insistent, then someone grabbed him and turned him around, away from the light and into the pain of reality. 

Brown found himself facing another agent.