Disclaimer: I don't own Dollhouse, Echo, Laurence, or any of the characters. They are the property of Fox, Joss Whedon, Eliza Dushku, etc.
Story: Adelle has different plans for Laurence than to put him into the Attic. Instead, she turns him into a Doll. And suddenly, Echo has a larger role to play and things spiral downwards.
Set after episode S1.9 ("A Spy in the House of Love"), then turned : I think if any, they're all vague now but there's specific mentions of things that happened in the second to last episode.
Warnings: Violence, language, sexual situations, etc.
A/n: You know, just warning and all. Graphic and just messed up, so…be warned. I...have nothing to say about what I just wrote...
Dedicated to allison lightning, who wanted Laurence to be a Doll.
Sins and Prayers
"Caroline, you know your new duties," Adelle smiled coldly at her.
Echo nodded, still not used to her actual name.
"Echo," she called out softly.
The man she used to know as Laurence Dominic, looked blankly at her from the imprint chair. Echo walked closer and touched his hand.
"Everything's going to be all right."
"Now that you're here," Laurence sighed.
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life," he murmured, awareness leaking into his eyes.
She hid her shiver, knowing she had been just as aware when she'd been a Doll. She wondered if she had to deal with Laurence as they had been watching closely over her. She wanted to free him, but he wouldn't be free. He would at best be like her. Trapped in the House as a Doll or an employee. Once you're in, you can never leave.
"Come here, Echo," she said, finding it strange to call this man that name when she still considered it hers.
"Okay," he smiled emptily.
She hid another shiver.
The next day, Laurence was already out on his first assignment. She stood on standby in the van, waiting as he met with a new client known only as Miss Dream. She lost herself in her thoughts as she waited.
"Hello, Caroline," Adelle greeted her as she slowly opened her eyes. She was lying in an odd chair that she sat up from.
"Adelle," she muttered disgruntled. Her memories were too vague, and the ones as Echo were more clearer. Her memories were there, her old personality wasn't quite. She felt like part of her was missing.
"My five years are up already?" she sneered, glaring resentfully at Adelle.
"No. I have a different job for you to do, one you can finish your last two years doing."
"Oh?" Echo, she still liked to think of herself as, asked tiredly.
"There is a man I'm considering turning into a Doll. You can become his handler for the next two years," Adelle folded her arms together, a hint of a smirk crossing her face. "He'll have the name you used to have. Echo."
"Who is he?"
"That, dear, isn't any of your business. You need only know him as Echo."
"I still have memories from my time as Echo," she told Adelle in a dry tone.
"That's because they refuse to leave," Adelle said stiffly, almost throwing an accusing look at her.
"When can I see him?"
"In a little bit. We still have to update you on how to be a handler."
Loud knocking on the doors to the back of the van interrupted her thinking, and she realized she had been day dreaming the entire time she was supposed to be looking after her Active.
Opening the door, Laurence slid inside smoothly, still in his role of Remus –a suave businessman with a taste of tying his conquests up.
"Hello, Remus. How was your day with Miss Dream?" she asked idly, eyes roving everywhere but him. She could still recall who this man was, and it bothered her. Her thoughts went everywhere from how he'd tried to kill her twice, to how this man used to be so calm and collected, and now he was being used like she had been. And she was part of the group of people using him.
The hypocrisy was just abounding around her.
And even worse yet, she wasn't all that bothered about him trying to kill her. He had been doing his job, she was unpredictable, and they had resolved their issues in that van. He stated quite clearly, when it was obvious he didn't have to and wasn't obligated to do his job any more, that he was waiting for the day when she'd become aware enough and she would take down the Dollhouse herself.
It helps (or maybe it doesn't) to know she actually has a more active role in abusing his person, than he had with her. She was his handler. She's right by him through everything, standing by and doing nothing. At least Boyd had been nice and caring towards her. She couldn't stand herself or the thought of what she was allowing to happen, and what she was reluctantly condoning to him, that she'd basically ignored his existence.
"It was fantastic, Caroline," Laurence smirked at her, his British voice rolling over her.
"That's good," she muttered.
And then he was leaning towards her, and nuzzling her neck. She froze up and said nothing, and he pulled back with his smirk growing wider.
Laurence hadn't repeated the action, or anything similar to it, after that first time. So she had assumed it was just the imprint.
And then he'd cornered her in the swimming pool.
She had been coming to check on him, trying for once to be a good handler, when she found him dripping wet from finishing his swim.
Her breath caught in her throat, her face blushed heavily, and she couldn't help her eyes from roving across his well-muscled body. His defined chest and abs were moving rapidly as he was trying to catch his breath, and she noticed his strong arms with his biceps flexing as he'd pushed himself up and out of the pool. His lean legs moved powerfully towards her, and she hadn't noticed he'd caught sight of her and had headed towards her direction until he was right in front of her.
She gazed up frightfully, though a tinge of excitement had somehow weaseled its way into her, into his eyes and her mouth dropped slightly. She could feel the heat coming from his body, and her own skin started heating up. Desire coursed through her, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to ignore the desire mirrored in his eyes.
His calloused hand reached for her face and cupped the side of it, cradling it gently. She could feel the moisture still clinging to his skin drip down her face and down her neck, heading into the collar of her white dress shirt, and soaking it. He started leaning towards her, and automatically she leaned forward as well, eyes fluttering close and lips opening slightly.
His lips missed hers and hit her ear softly, his tongue darting out and licking it.
"Echo," he murmured into her ear.
She stiffened and jerked away, staring at him in fear. She ran away and left him behind.
'Oh God, if anyone's listening to me, please give me strength to resist him.'
Their next encounter was wholly different, even a bit innocent, but truthfully was just as forbidden and just as sinful. It was curfew time and Echo was in her delegated room in the Dollhouse. Unlike the rest of the employees, she wasn't allowed to leave the House. She was like Claire having never left the House in years, only Echo wasn't able to any how.
And then there was a timid knock on her door, and she reluctantly got up from her bed to answer it and found Laurence on the other side, looking nervous and shy.
"Echo! What are you doing here? It's curfew, you're supposed to be in bed," she hissed, grabbing his arm and forcefully dragging the male Doll inside.
"Laurence," he murmured. "Call me Laurence."
She looked at him weirdly, but he refused to look away. Sighing, she nodded and conceded.
"Fine, Laurence. Again, what are you doing here?"
"I want…I want to sleep with you."
"You can't. We'll both get in trouble when they notice you're gone," she frowned at him.
"You wake up around the same time as all the other Dolls, so I can slip in unnoticed," he argued, and she really wondered if she had been that aware when she was a Doll. She was getting the feeling that Laurence was even more troublesome than she had been.
"You really put some thought into this," her frown deepened.
He didn't answer, but she supposed he didn't have to. The stubborn look on his face answered her for him.
"Alright, but you have to be up and back in there on the dot," she reluctantly gave in, deciding it was the least she could do as a horrible handler and not acknowledging the guilty part in her mind that wanted the close contact with him.
They went to her bed, standing at the foot of it, and she stared awkwardly at him. He looked expectantly back at her. Licking her lips, she slipped onto her bed, pulling the covers over her as she lay on her side and faced the wall. She stiffened when she felt him slip in behind her, and then his arms slid around her waist and pulled her closer to him, her back plastered right up against his hard-muscled front. His breath tickled her neck and she could feel her skin heating up again.
"Goodnight, Echo," he murmured into her ear.
She couldn't even grace him with a reply, her eyes jolted wide awake and she was trapped in his embrace.
That had become a nightly occurrence, something she had started to not only grow used to and had relaxed into, but also was starting to crave for. She hid it well and started to look like a pro, never revealing outwardly to anyone her inner conflicts and desires. The jittery feeling she had around Laurence, where she could just let go, didn't even show around Boyd and cause her suspicion from her old handler.
"Hello, Caroline," he greeted awkwardly, just as unused to her name as she was.
"Boyd," she smiled happily, knowing this was a man she could trust in the Dollhouse, but still not wanting to trust him with her little secret.
"How has things been?"
She shrugged, "Same old, same old."
"Feels different being a handler, doesn't it?" he asked grimly.
She grimaced, "Definitely. And Echo is like me."
Boyd winced with her. He changed the subject. "Odd calling Laurence Echo though."
She sniffed in irritation, "Don't let DeWitt catch you talking about him like that. Who knows what that woman is planning. She might even make you a Doll like him. Everyone's expendable to her."
He laughed lightly, "And don't let her catch you talking about her behind her back. See you around, Caroline."
"Bye, Boyd," she sighed.
And then that very same night, as she waited for Laurence and like clockwork he came at the same time, did she realize things were about to change. He wore a determined look again on his face, and she brooded on more trouble for her.
They'd slipped into bed in the same position as always, but his hands didn't stay where they usually would. Instead, they traveled up and cupped her breasts and she gasped aloud.
"Echo, what in the world?!"
"Laurence. It's Laurence," he murmured against her skin, his thumbs lightly grazing against her nipples.
She should be shoving him away, or moving away herself. She should never have even let him into her room. It would not get that far.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Laurence," she whimpered, and he turned her onto her back, hovering above her.
"But you want to, don't you?" he asked her breathlessly, moving downwards until he was at her feet.
"No, I don't," she lied, because God willing, she really did want this.
He was pushing her slip up, the silky fabric sliding against her skin with firm pressure from his hands. He'd moved it until it was at her neck, and from her breasts down, she was entirely bare to his eyes.
"Then tell me to stop," he paused and looked at her face, staring straight into her eyes.
'God, where is that strength?'
She looked up at him and said nothing, and he renewed his advances. His hands pushed apart her legs, and he'd kissed along her inner thighs. She began whimpering even more at the contact, but he steadily kept her legs apart and continued his assault.
"Oh God!" she nearly screamed, and she was so thankful her room was noise proofed.
As she rested from her orgasm, Laurence began shedding his clothes and then he was just as naked as her. Her mind laughed at her.
'God isn't listening, honey. If we're going to Hell, then we might as well go all the way and welcome it with open arms.'
She mentally laughed at herself, and lay back, spreading her legs open for him.
Caroline Farrell was a sinful woman. And every single, major deadly sin had not escaped her.
She was prideful. She didn't want to own up to her failures, to the death of a long dead boyfriend she had gotten killed and had long forgotten about, and the mistakes she kept making now.
She was gluttonous and greedy. She wanted more of Laurence, and she had no strength or will to resist him. In fact, she only tried half-heartedly, giving in easily and letting herself enjoy and bask in him.
She was lustful. Desiring all of him, and the feeling of intoxication she felt when she was with him. She delighted in his attention, even when outwardly she lied to herself and tried to convince herself to forget about her desires and wants.
She was wrathful on his behalf, and for the fact she'd always hated Adelle DeWitt. The woman had sent her spiraling into this hell, chasing her for two years and then manipulating five years of her life from her. And she was angry Adelle had turned Laurence into a Doll, and tossed him away like this. But the more sinful side of her thanked Adelle, because at the same time she'd given Laurence to her.
She was envious because who knew if this was really Laurence and what he really wanted. Was he really aware? Or was Adelle just fucking with her and giving her a programmed Doll to fulfill her needs? Hell, to make her loyal to the Dollhouse by feeding her this addiction to man who wasn't even a man any more. What she really wanted was Laurence Dominic, not Echo, the Doll who repeatedly wanted to be called Laurence.
She wiped all thoughts from her head. She smiled up dazedly at him, welcoming sin, temptation, and Hell as she wrapped her legs around him and pushed him in more, arching her back and reveling in the pleasure.
"God give me strength to enter Hell willingly," she murmured.
As so she was slothful, as she lay afterwards with him, lazily enjoying the moment with him. She was in no hurry. No hurry to move, no hurry to fight back against the Dollhouse like everyone said she would.
No, she was utterly content right where she was.
She had Laurence after all. And the truth of it, what did it matter if Laurence was aware or if it was wrong, or any of that. And did she really prefer the man to the Doll? What did it matter? Because she had Laurence right then and there, and she was completely fine with the result.
Nothing else mattered, she didn't care about everything else. Consequences be damned.
She leaned up from her position in his arms, kissing him slowly and still tasting herself on his lips. Smirking and knowing her claim, she kissed him harder and knew that was going to swell his lips a bit.
Caroline welcomed Hell entirely.
Laurence was not supposed to be like this. He was not supposed to encase her in his arms. He was not supposed to look at her like that, like he wanted to ravish her.
But Caroline would not admit that she not only permitted it, she liked it.
And she would not tell anyone that in the privacy they rarely held, she allowed him to still call her Echo and she called him Laurence. It was the names they were most comfortable with.
Started 4/27/09 –Completed 4/28/09
EDITED 9/1/13: Edited to not be explicit, just in case.
A/n: Holy crap…that was actually kind of fucked up. This was actually slightly different than what I had planned to write…