![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"Don't even think about it. You're surrounded, Dak. We've had you right where we wanted you for months now."
The officer slowly let his hands fall back to his sides, as though he'd never reached for the button on the wall, as though it'd never been a move for the trigger, as though nothing had happened. He gave his longtime comrade in arms a lopsided smile, shrugging. "Oh, you know me too well. It's all harmless, Johan. It always has been, you understand-- of course you do." There was no question, no hesitation-- it was a sure thing, in his voice, the kindness of his eyes. That he was trustworthy, that the man standing at the door knew this, that no harm would pass between them, it was all in order, a basic fact of life.
Strangely expressionless, Johan said nothing, regarding Dak intently for a while before he stepped aside from the door. Dak did not look relieved, nor grateful-- he merely stood from the chair, ready to walk through. The helmeted, masked guard stepped into the room before he could, and the gun was immediately leveled at his chest.
Johan met his gaze evenly. "Did you know where I was?"
A nod-- wordless.
"I thought you might. It's not a myth. By the way." He studied his old-- friend? He'd thought so. "Tell me, Dak-- you had plans for this place? For me? Was I to be your pawn, or your sacrificial lamb?"
Dak said nothing still, did not blink or twitch, gave nothing away.
Johan looked away from him for a moment, then back. "Was I your equal, Dak? Did you care about me, about this, our endeavors? Did--" he broke off, swallowing, and resumed. "Did you ever actually care about me?"
His face remained closed, but Johan no longer needed him to speak. "You have no idea how much this pains me," he said quietly. With an abrupt gesture at the masked gun, he left the room. After a bare moment, the guard followed him out, the weapon returned to its holster.
When Dak collected himself and went to the doorway, they were both gone-- vanished, as though they'd never been at all.
The officer slowly let his hands fall back to his sides, as though he'd never reached for the button on the wall, as though it'd never been a move for the trigger, as though nothing had happened. He gave his longtime comrade in arms a lopsided smile, shrugging. "Oh, you know me too well. It's all harmless, Johan. It always has been, you understand-- of course you do." There was no question, no hesitation-- it was a sure thing, in his voice, the kindness of his eyes. That he was trustworthy, that the man standing at the door knew this, that no harm would pass between them, it was all in order, a basic fact of life.
Strangely expressionless, Johan said nothing, regarding Dak intently for a while before he stepped aside from the door. Dak did not look relieved, nor grateful-- he merely stood from the chair, ready to walk through. The helmeted, masked guard stepped into the room before he could, and the gun was immediately leveled at his chest.
Johan met his gaze evenly. "Did you know where I was?"
A nod-- wordless.
"I thought you might. It's not a myth. By the way." He studied his old-- friend? He'd thought so. "Tell me, Dak-- you had plans for this place? For me? Was I to be your pawn, or your sacrificial lamb?"
Dak said nothing still, did not blink or twitch, gave nothing away.
Johan looked away from him for a moment, then back. "Was I your equal, Dak? Did you care about me, about this, our endeavors? Did--" he broke off, swallowing, and resumed. "Did you ever actually care about me?"
His face remained closed, but Johan no longer needed him to speak. "You have no idea how much this pains me," he said quietly. With an abrupt gesture at the masked gun, he left the room. After a bare moment, the guard followed him out, the weapon returned to its holster.
When Dak collected himself and went to the doorway, they were both gone-- vanished, as though they'd never been at all.