Minority Report ~ Tarnished Halo

Run. ~ Agatha

It's said that the world can be a cruel place.

Cold.

Unfeeling.

That most move through their day to day, never knowing the pain stinging those closest to them. Like a scorpion, stinging over and over again, until all they can do is burn.

They want to end it all.

Your brother.

Your husband.

Your daughter.

They wonder what it would be like to break free. Lash out. Rape the one who refuses their advances. Kill without conscience. Drowning. Stabbing. Gunshots.

They wonder what it would be like to be brutal.

Thoughts like whispers that you. don't. see.

But I do.

------

Sitting in front of an open window, a summer breeze gently brushing over her bare shoulders, she looked towards John Anderton and saw his center.

Not the disgraced cop on the run, accused of a murder he was destined to commit.

But the grieving father, still carrying the weight of a son long missing, never knowing if his child, Sean, was alive or dead.

John had pulled her from the Temple. Lifted her free from the metal restraints, the drugs, the horrifying nightmares. She could give him this.

"He's on the beach now... A toe in the water. He's been racing his mother up and down the sand. There's so much love in this house...

He's ten years old. He's surrounded by animals. He wants to be a vet. You keep a rabbit for him. A bird, and a fox.

He's in high school..."

A beatific smile stealing across her face, she drew a breath, turning her face up to the beams of sunlight streaking across the room.

"He likes to run. Like his father."

Lowering her gaze to John, she watched as the cop crumpled against the wall, her words his own scorpion; stinging over and over again.

"He runs the two mile. And the long relay... He's twenty three. He's at university. He makes love to a pretty girl named Claire. He asks her to be his wife. He calls here, and tells Lara, who cries..."

A smile full of wonderment, she looked up to Lara, the grieving mother hovering in the corner of the room, the woman's well constructed wall crumbling like sand in the face of the story of her missing boy.

"He still runs. Across the university and into the stadium where John watches.

Drawing a sharp breath, the image crystal clear, she looked away from the broken cop on the floor, and the hollowed out mother on her feet, entranced by the vision of the son they'd lost flying through her head.

"Oh god... He's running so fast. Just like his daddy. He sees his daddy. He wants to run to him."

A shadow crossing her face, her smile faltered, falling silent as the image of the adult gave way to the picture of the child John had lost at the pool.

John's son.

Snatched away from his parents.

Leaving a rip that could never be mended.

Pale eyes going glassy, she moved from the trunk to kneel before John, the anguish of the vision tearing through her like a knife.

Tears slipping silently down her cheeks at the visceral gut punch of the child's terror, John's desperation, Lara's sorrow, she tried to smile, bottom lip trembling as the comfort simply wouldn't come.

"But he's only six years old. And he can't do it... And the other man is /so/ fast."

Laying her hands on her thighs, she looked away from John, smile returning as her gaze flickered over the walls.

'I want him back so bad.'

Eyebrows raised, she looked back to the cop, John's head in his hands as he wept.

"So did she. Can you see? She just wanted her little girl back."

Leaning forward, she pressed the tips of her fingers against John's jaw, gently lifting his gaze to meet her own.

"I'm sorry, John. But you're going to have to run again."

'What?'

Eyes widening at the approaching roar of PreCrime boats, her heart started to race, knowing full well John wouldn't escape capture if he didn't run and right now.

"RUN!"

-----

Too late.

It was too late.

Collapsing to the floor as John jumped to his feet, she pushed herself backwards, scuttling like a bug, adrenaline gripping her like a vise as John's own men stuck him with Sick Sticks, haloing him for a murder he hadn't committed.

"Lara..."

Cringing in the corner, fingers curled around the gauzy curtain, she swallowed hard, dread washing over her in a wave, knowing her freedom was at an end.

"The agent. Danny. He needs to see."

Body arching as the PreCop's electrical charge hit her full in the chest, she hit the floor hard, and lay still.