Disclaimer: I don't own F.E.A.R.
Summary: During the Second Synchronicity Event, Paxton Fettel can feel his mind slip.
There is nothing that Paxton can remember of his childhood that is not spent in gilded cages and surgical experiments. He only recognizes the white of a room in its brightness when there is an overhead light hanging above him, men from his nightmares clad in clinical uniforms and looking menacing. Oftentimes, they speak to him, but only to praise or punish. Sometimes, they reward him with books if he has progressed far beyond their expectations. He devours these novels with a hunger for knowledge that can only parallel what he often dreams of doing to them. It is what he remembers as a child.
But then there is the Prison. He's seen it in his nightmares too, in many different ways. Now there is a buzz inside of his head as he kneels on the floor of the cage and a desperation that he can feel slowly creeping up on him.
He clenches his eyes shut and a blur of images - where are you taking him?! - settle into his brain, pushing away the last remnants of his memories. It is a rush of terror and anger, but not his terror or his anger. He fights off control, but there is a part of him that wishes to let her in. He had felt it too, her rage. Ever since he was a child and he's had his one opportunity for vengeance, there is a secret longing for that angry and maligned figure inside the Prison. A connection that sprung from the shower of violence that he had perpetrated upon the scum filthy scum that took him away from her.
It hurts. The invasion is not yet complete, but oh there is hate. Such hate. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in pain, he knows that they are watching him and he does not want them to come in with their needles and guns. There are things inside his mind that he cannot recognize, like swinging and the breeze of the blowing wind, giggling with glee at the feeling of freedom and then the terrible sadness when there is nothing but darkness and scientists once again. He has never really been outside before, that much he knew. What is happening? These are not his memories, they cannot be.
There is another image, and he can see the face of the worthless traitor looking down at him with no emotion. There is nothing that betrays his blank countenance when he hears the demand to get it out of her and the wailing of an infant finally fills the room. Paxton realizes, with a jolt, that this is him. It is him and they are taking him away from her, he can see it with his own eyes. Even as she sleeps, she could see their crimes and she can hear them. These images rush through him in a frenzy until it is him that is swinging under that tree and it is him they torture and misuse. Discarded like an animal.
He can see now. He can see the truth.
Their voices meld into one in his mind, both male and female. Both hate and fury. There is nothing but red in his vision, his fingers digging deep into his pants.
They deserve to die.
"Kill them all."
He lifts his head and screams.