Bond carried M out of the old chapel in his arms.
"What do we do about the body?" Kincade asked. Bond knew he didn't mean M.
"Leave him," he said curtly.
Kincade followed Bond out onto the dark moor, staring over his shoulder at the knife protruding out of Silva's back. Bond did not turn.
Four people had entered the church that night.
Three had come out.
Two had been killed.
Only one was dead.
The pain was so much that he considered staying there and dying, bleeding out on the floor of that god-forsaken chapel in ignominy. But then Bond's face swam up before him. If he tilted his head upwards he could almost see him standing at the door again.
Last rat standing.
No. It wouldn't end this way. He would be the last rat. He would kill Bond. He would kill Bond for taking M away when he finally had her in his grasp, and he would kill Bond for trying to kill him. A life for a life. Poetic. Justified. Bond would die for taking away his revenge.
He had felt worse pain before, but not by much. It was only with a supreme effort of will and the image of Bond's face- burned into his mind and spurring him on almost mockingly- that he managed to raise himself up off the floor.
The knife grated against the bones in his back. Silva gritted his teeth, lips pulling back in a skull-like grimace. His sight reeled for a moment with the pain. Slowly, torturously, every muscle in his body screaming, he reached back with his right hand for the knife. When he felt the hilt, he pulled.
That was possibly the worst pain in his life. The knife swam in his vision as he brought it in front of his eyes, blurred by tears. Whether the tears were born of pain or sorrow was unknown to Silva. At that moment he did not care.
Jerking, staggering steps brought him to his feet. He'd done the worst part already; now standing seemed inconsequential. He balanced himself against a pew and stood for a moment, panting. Eyes fixed on the door, he walked out, knife in hand.
He had a new target.
A/N: I don't have much of this fic written yet, but it is a start. I intend this as a dark continuation of Skyfall in which Silva is torn between his illogical need for closure against M in the form of Bond's death and his own growing fascination with the agent himself. This won't be fluffy. I will be trying my damnedest to keep them in character. The aim is to portray their relationship as canonically as I can. Also, no guarantees on a steady update schedule, because SCHOOL. :( Posting from both tumblr and , if anyone's interested in seeing it on tumblr send me a PM, I'm too lazy to link my account right now. First chapter should be coming soon; stay tuned!