basched (basched) wrote,

  • Mood:

Past/Present/Future Chapter Six

Title: 1932
Pairing/Characters: Becker/Matt/Emily ,Connor/Abby, Edward (OC) Ackley (OC)
Genre: drama, angst,   
Rating:    Gonna up this to a 15, swearages.
Spoilers: Takes place after season 5.    
Summary:   A young man in the 1930's sees the arrival of aliens (?).
A/N:.  Basically, this is my take on what happens after season 5. This beta'd by the always ecxcellent fredbassett   Mistakes, blame me, not her. Ta muchly and enjoy. 

                He had never seen anything like this in all of his 21 years.
                Edward thought it looked like something out of an H.G Wells book it was so weird and alien. Why he’d been pulled off his regular duties and assigned to stay here with three others and guard this thing, he didn’t know, but one thing was clear. He was tired.

                Edward wanted to sleep, but orders prevented him from doing so. That and absolute utter awe. This small silver glowing sphere had once been a huge golden light surrounding hundreds of what looked like pieces of shattered mirror. It had brought forth the monstrous thing behind him. He never saw any of the people who had been on it he didn’t know where they were being held but all that mattered was he follow orders.

                Failure to do so would mean serious consequences. The people in charge were not from any branch of the government he knew of, but it was obvious to everyone here that they were not to mess with them. They scared him, they scared everyone.

                Edward reached into his pocket and picked out a pack of cigarettes. He slid one out of the pack and placed it between his lips. He was just about to light it when all of a sudden, the silver orb extended and grew back into the golden ball of light. The cigarette dropped from his mouth and he scrambled for his gun.

                Edward was too slow. By the time he got his weapon in his hand, he heard a strange electronic hum and when he looked up, he came face to face with the end of a very alien looking weapon. Once the fear subsided slightly, his eyes followed the length of the gun until he saw who was holding it. A tall man dressed in black was staring back at him and his grip on the weapon was rock steady. He was not in the least bit afraid.

                “I would put that down, if I were you. And your friends had better do the same.”

                Was this an alien? He had to be, coming through a portal like that, but how could a being from another world speak perfect English?

                “I’d do it, guys, really.”  

                The other alien, who wore a fine brown suit, had a northern accent? What the hell?
                Edward noticed there were others emerging from the portal, two women and one other man and they looked nothing like aliens. They looked normal, but that was probably their plan. 

                Not wanting to be shot by the aliens, Edward put his gun down and so did the others who had been supposedly watching as well. They’d failed to react quickly enough, which was ridiculous considering they were older than him and more ‘experienced’.

                “Gentleman, everything is all right. Don’t be alarmed” The third man, with a strong Irish accent stepped forward and took up position next to the man with the gun. “ We know you’re here guarding the train for a reason and right now, I would really appreciate it if you could tell us what has happened to the people on this train and who is in charge of your operation?”

                The Irishman was their leader?  Edward’s brain was going crazy. If these were aliens, how or why did they even bother with accents, unless… they didn’t have a single clue about them?

                “He’ll be on his way,” Edward said, caring not that his colleagues were glaring at him and mouthing for him to shut the hell up.  “He’ll know that you’ve come through that thing and he won’t be happy with you at all. Or us for that matter.”   

                “That’s usually the way with the people in charge.”  The chirpy northerner grinned and gave the tall man a nudge with his elbow. “They’re never happy with anything we do. It’s moan, moan, moan, moan moan and with plenty of sarcasm for added effect, right?”

                “Ssh, Connor!”  The blonde woman pulled him back to her and the man called Connor sheepishly stood by her side, whilst their own leader dealt with the situation.

                The Irishman smiled and Edward couldn’t help but smile back, even though the possibility of thought control was rearing its ugly head. He didn’t want to be mind controlled.

                “What’s your name, son?”  The Irishman asked.

                Edward was cut off by one of the older men he’d been working with. A shifty looking agent he knew only as Beeks. 

                “He’s just a boy. You will deal with me….”

                The Irishman shook his head.

                “No. I don’t think so. So…what’s your name?”


                “Hi, Ed….can I call you Ed?” 

                He nodded.

                “Nice to meet you, Ed. Now, we’re not going to harm any of you. We just want to speak to your superiors and get our people back. That’s all.”

                “That’s all? Your thug isn’t going to shoot us with his ray gun?”

                The tall Englishman looked insulted by that comment.

                “Thug? Listen, boy, I am not a thug! ” The man then looked to his leader, with a slight hurt expression on his face. “Do I come across as thuggish?”

                The Irishman hid a grin behind his hand at the outburst from his friend, but he got back his composure quickly.

                “Sorry! It was a poor choice of words!” said Edward. “Please, don’t shoot me!”

                “Don’t worry, he won’t shoot you,” said the Irishman.

                Edward believed him. There was something about this man/alien that seemed trustworthy, unless it was the mind control.  The three others with Edward did not believe him, in fact they were getting extremely riled.  Beeks and another man called Randall were going for their guns, whilst the third, Young, already had his knife concealed in his hand. Seconds later, both the Irishman and the Thug had their death rays trained on all of them.

                “We won’t shoot you if you don’t do something stupid. So don’t do anything stupid.”

                “That seems unlikely to happen, doesn’t it?” asked the Thug.

                Edward hadn’t felt it before, but he was shaking. This was way out of his depth, he wasn’t trained or experienced in dealing with this kind of thing, and he hoped to God that the others would calm down and not provoke the aliens. He also wished that he wouldn’t be around when Ackley came… because it would be highly probable that he would be killed for ineptness. 

                “We’re not going to do anything!” said Edward, his voice stammering with fear. 

                “Shut up, you little git!” yelled Beeks. “Damn! I told him not to assign a wet newbie tosser to us!”

                The sound of a peculiar shot followed and Beeks slumped to the floor. The second gun that he had concealed dropped from his hand and slid over the floor. Young and Randall were not happy and reacted purely out of instinct. They attempted to rush the aliens, fuelled by the thought that Beeks had been killed, but they quickly joined the man on the ground, unconscious.

                Edward staggered back into the wall, his hand extended in a plea for mercy. He was wrong about them, they had just killed those men and now he was going to die too.

                “It’s all right! They’re not dead!”  The brown-haired woman rushed up to him and she held out her hands in a calming gesture. It took him a moment before he realised that she wasn’t threatening him, attempting to eat his brains or whatever aliens tried to do.  “They’re only stunned.”

                “So… they’re not dead?”

                “No.” The woman smiled and it was a beautiful smile. Edward finally relaxed a little.  “They’re not dead.”

                “So… you’re not going to kill us all and eat our brains?”

                “What? Good gracious no!”

                “So… you’re not aliens then?” Edward asked. They all shook their heads and then the man called Connor stepped forward.

                “Actually, zombies do that. Eat your brains I mean. Aliens tend to use mind control and death rays.”

                “Connor!”  both of the women chorused together, disapprovingly.

                “What? I was just pointing it out! Basic sci-fi fact!”

                “No… we’re not aliens,”  the dark-haired replied, smiling that lovely smile again and ignoring Connor . “We’re people, just like you.”

                Were they? Edward wasn’t sure.

                He was definitely not sure, when he saw the Irishman go suddenly pale. The man actually staggered and his thug grabbed on to him with extreme worry. But the Irishman pushed the other man away and continued to stare with horror behind Edward. His head began to shake from side to side in denial. It was then that the dark-haired woman rushed to his side and tried to gain his attention. None of his associates could pull him out of the trance so they all looked at what was scaring him.

                “No. No, it can’t be.”

                Edward turned slowly around. There was no ghost, or monster… no aliens, just his boss, Ackley and a large group of men walking towards them. Edward had been told they were agents of the government, that Ackley was the head of a department no one dared cross, even the PM himself.

                Ackley, who had arranged for Edward to be a part of this guard assignment—why?--completely ignored the fact that his men were unconscious on the floor, he ignored everyone around him and walked straight up to the Irishman.

                He was not livid as Edward expected him to be, in fact Ackley was smiling. 

                “Well, well, well! Matt Anderson! Look… at… you! You’re all grown up!”

                Becker was not expecting the approaching old man to walk right up to Matt and call him by his first name. 
Matt was horrified and shocked that this person could be here. Becker thought Matt had seen a ghost and watched as he took several steps back, his eyes wide with fear.

                “You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead!”  Matt shook his head again and briefly screwed his eyes shut, but Becker could tell him this was no hallucination or dream. 

                “I’m clearly not!” laughed the man holding his arms out. “I’m as dead as you are a scrawny little teenager!  Matt, I’m impressed… you really are a man now aren’t you?” 

                Matt couldn’t reply. He was actually speechless.

                Becker watched as the fear on his face quickly changed to anger. Genuine seething hatred showed in his eyes and Becker instinctively stayed close to him. He had seen Matt angry and pissed off, but this was completely different and it didn’t take a genius to know who that anger was directed at.

                The man was almost as tall as Becker, built like a solid brick house but wizened with a mass of grey hair and a silver goatee. An old scar ran diagonally across his face almost splitting it in two and there was something about those dark green eyes that gave Becker the chills. Not much scared him, but those eyes and what possibly lay behind them sent shivers down Becker’s spine. The man may have been dressed in the clothes of the 1930s like they were, but he was certainly not from this time. 

                “You know, Matt, I hadn’t expected you to come through the anomaly.” The man gazed over Matt’s shoulder at the rift and watched it as Becker’s team on the other side locked it. “But it’s a lovely surprise none the less. So you made it out of there, Matt, as I always knew you would! Did I not say that you had the potential for great things? That you wouldn’t be condemned like the rest of your people to live in that hell?  Oh… speaking of which, how is your father? He went with you I take it… Gideon never did like leaving his only son alone.”

                Matt didn’t say anything. He had told Becker about his father’s death and he had come to terms with it, but this man was bringing back some painful memories. Becker saw Matt jerk forward with his fist ready to punch the man right in his face, but Becker was quicker. He grabbed hold of Matt and pulled his arm back and down, keeping it pinned to his side.

               “Matt! Don’t!”

               Matt struggled against him, he was raging and then Becker had to literally pin his arms behind his back.
              “Matt! Stop this!”

              He still wasn’t listening.

              “You dare mention my father!”  Matt spat at the old man. “You fucking bastard!”

              “Oh no! Gideon finally copped it then? That’s such a shame.”

              The lack of any sentiment or sincerity in the sentence sent Matt over the top. It took all of Becker and Connor’s strength to hold him back and even then they were struggling.

              “If you’re going to have a tantrum, Matthew… then I think we can take you away and put you somewhere where you can calm down.” The man turned his back on them and indicated with a finger for his men to take them all away. “We can talk and discuss sending your people back later.”

              Becker had never seen Matt so furious. As they were all dragged apart, they struggled, tried to hit and fight back but it was useless as guns were trained their heads. Real ones.

              “Damn it, Lester, you should have let me bring a real gun!” 

              “I’ll kill you, Ackley!” Matt yelled, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you!”

              “Such language does not become you, Matthew. Once you’ve calmed down, I’m sure we can talk sensibly.”  The man Matt had called Ackley waved his hand. “Take them away, but don’t put them with the others. Hold them somewhere nice, after all my Matthew and his friends deserve the best!”

              Becker didn’t exactly understand what Matt was yelling now, but even swearing in Gaelic was pretty obvious. Connor and Abby were dragged away after him and as two strong men began to haul Becker away by his arms, he saw Emily nearby resisting with all her might as two others tried to manhandle her. 

              “Oi! Leave her alone!” Becker yelled, but of course it was the wrong thing to do.

              “Hold on!” Ackley held up his hands. “Take them away, but not these two.”

              The old man’s fingers pointed at him and Emily and as he heard Connor and Abby loudly protesting as they were hauled out with Matt, Becker and Emily were shoved together. Ackley approached them, those crazy eyes scrutinizing every single part of them. Becker certainly didn’t like the way he was staring at Emily.

              Becker attempted to rip his arms free from their hold and punch the guy, but his reaction was already anticipated and Ackley’s eerie attention settled on him instead of Emily. He circled Becker, grinning with great satisfaction.

              “I thought it was you.” Ackley said after a while of ogling him. “Without the beard, it was difficult to tell… but now I know. I know you… you are going to be a serious pain in my backside when it comes to my Matthew… aren’t you?”

              “You’re a complete and utter nut job, do you realise that?” Becker replied.

              Probably wasn’t the best thing to say. Becker got a fierce punch to his face for that remark and he was thrown to the ground where he spat blood on the floor. Emily called out his name, and when Becker looked up, he saw red. Ackley had grabbed hold of Emily’s face with a single hand and pushed her cheeks forcibly together.

              “You two have no idea who I am,” he said squeezing her face harder and harder. “Or what Matt Anderson really is. I know you, I know you both and whilst you may not have a clue now, everything will become clear later on and I promise, you’ll have great fun finding out!”

             Ackley leaned forward, his mouth inching closer to Emily’s. She was shaking, she desperately tried to rip herself from his hold but it was no use. Becker felt helpless, all his attempts to break free only resulted in a punch to his stomach.

            After a third blow, he couldn’t get up.

            Becker saw only a blur and the faint sound of Emily’s angry screams as he was dragged by his legs across the platform.

            Then everything went blank.


                At the very same moment the ARC team were taken away from the station, half way across the city, one of the most popular clubs was in full swing. Music was playing and those fortunate enough to still have money were dancing and laughing and having the times of their lives. They were completely oblivious to the happenings in the alley beside the club.

                No one saw the anomaly opening or heard it as the bins and rubbish in its vicinity were thrown about.  No one heard the deep growling from within.

                They certainly didn’t see something emerge.

TBC still...
Tags: 1932, 2011, angst, becker, emily merchant, matt anderson, memecker, past present future, primeval
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded