Title - The Rocket's Red Glare

Author - Spookysister7

Email address - - http/ - PG

Category - Jules Verne

Spoilers - RRG

Keywords - Post episode

Summary - -"Link my mind with yours, Count, and I will destroy you."- Philias Fogg

-What would have happened if the distraction hadn't worked?

Feedback - Please, oh please, oh please! I'm young, I'm stupid, I need help! Thanx! Post anywhere! Just keep my name and let me know.

Disclaimer -

Rebecca and Jules are not mine

They aren't making me a dime

Philias does not belong to me

But if he did, I'd be filled with glee

Just remember, morning glory

They're not mine, now read the story

Title: Alternate Version of RRG

Philias and Jules struggled against their captors to no avail. As the men came closer and closer with the drills, an involuntary shudder rolled down Philias' body. Fogg and Verne's synchronized screams echoed though the chamber.

Fogg awoke moments later, by the strange sensation of tarnished metal scraping across his cheek.

"So, Fogg, are you ready to become one with me?" The Count rasped. Fogg struggled weakly; the left side of his face one great mass of pain.

"Never." He whispered, turning away from the hideous face. Fogg squinted through the pain as he heard pained grunts, searching for the source. Through the haze he could make out Verne's body jerking across the floor like a fish on dry land.

"Jules!" He cried. Jules' head flopped in his direction and Fogg turned away from the mechanical intrusion that maimed Verne's face.

"What are you doing to him?" Philias cried.

"I'm taking his wonderfully useful brain. Sucking it dry, so to speak. Say goodbye to your friend, Fogg." The Count cackled as Jules' body jerked one last time, and then lay motionless.

"Jules! No! Not you too! Oh, God! Jules!" Philias squirmed to get to him, but was stopped short by a pair of strong arms yanking his head back and holding it still. His one last glimpse of Jules gave him little hope. Verne's one eye lay open, glazed and staring for an eternity, his mind decimated.

The Count raised the cortical lobe stud and plunged it into Philias' open socket. Fogg screamed. A hundred voices echoed in his head, a hundred slimy, black thoughts invaded his every crevice. One voice rose over the din.

"You are mine now, Fogg! For all eternity, you shall be my slave!" Philias could feel himself slip away, his thoughts overrun by those around him. A tiny flicker of sound caught his attention. A voice whispered in his ear, a familiar voice.

"Help me, Fogg! Save me. He killed Rebecca, he killed me. Don't let him get anyone else! I wasn't strong enough, but you are. Destroy him!"

"Jules, help me, Jules! Jules!" Fogg screamed into the emptiness.

"For Rebecca, for me, for her, Philias, do it for Saratoga." Jules' voice echoed in the darkness. Fogg's sorrow, his love, exploded in power greater than anything assembled. Like a flash in pitch blackness, it wiped away the darkness and all was white.

"Master Fogg, Master Verne?" Pastpartout called, tripping over the bodies of the Dead Ones.

"Philias, Jules?" Rebecca called, gun at the ready. As they came into the chamber, a nightmarish sight met their eyes. Jules' ravaged body lay in the entranceway, face a horrified grimace of pain and suffering.

"Jules!"

"Oh, Master Jules!" Rebecca cradled his poor body to her chest and rocked slowly, tears streaming down her face. Pastpartout shook his head and buried his face in his hands. Rebecca's gasp made him look up.

"Philias..." She whispered her face a portrait of anguish. Pastpartout followed her gaze and looked on in horror at his still and silent master.

"Master!" He cried, running to his side. Philias moaned and opened his eye.

"Jules?"

"He is gone, Master."

"Rebecca?"

"I'm here, Philias. I'm here."

"You're alive?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I destroyed the rocket."

"Count?"

"Dead, Philias, like his men."

"Oh." He closed his eyes for a moment, anxiousness fading.

"Rebecca, I'm sorry I was trying to protect you. You obviously didn't need my help. I'm so glad you're alright. Take care of Pastpartout for me, will you?"

"Don't talk like that; you're going to be fine." An anxious Rebecca said firmly, squeezing his hand to prove her point.

"Pastpartout?"

"Yes, Master?"

"You watch over her, and no more barrels."

"Yes, Master."

"I love you, Rebecca..." Fogg whispered.

"Philias!" She cried, holding him close.

"Jules..." Philias whispered suddenly, smiling slightly. He sighed deeply as his eyes closed and he went limp in her arms.