This is my first foray into Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons. With thanks to Shades for her help.
Once upon a time. Wasn’t that how all good stories go?
But, like all original fairy tales, this one had so many dark moments. So, so many.
The Ugly Sisters cut off their toes so they could try and squeeze into the glass slipper…
The wolf actually ate Grandma…
And as for mermaids…
They had been more than colleagues once. Once upon a time they had been friends.
It was a hazy memory, more like a fact that had been repeated over and over until the listener absorbs it as memory.
He was their first human and as such the process hadn’t been… perfect. Or smooth. (Or painless). But the Mysterons learnt fast.
Scarlet was their last mistake. After him all replicants were perfect puppets for the aliens to do with as they pleased.
But they couldn’t fix him. Human bodies weren’t as resilient. Sure, retrometabolism healed him, but it didn’t make him better. Perfect.
It didn’t make him forget.
There were snippets of life “before”. Like watching someone through a mist. Or a stained-glass window. Odd colours - some muted, some extra bright - overlaid the memories.
They were always worse when the Mysterons didn’t need him. They let him be but he was still their puppet, still their prisoner. Only, with nothing to do but sit and wait for the next mission, his brain would play this kaleidoscope of memories on repeat.
Some days he could put names to faces. Scarlet. Blue. Destiny. Fawn. White. Other days they were just faceless blurs.
The last mission hadn’t gone well. (Of course.) Retrometabolism had been long and painful, and now he sat here, waiting to be told what to do.
And the memories were strong.
He was on deck somewhere. Scarlet was with him. They were looking over the horizon.
Scarlet had laughed at something he had said and clapped him on the shoulder. In turn he’d nudged him hard.
He frowned. What were they discussing? He remembered a faint flush of embarrassment. Enough for Scarlet to feel comfortable ribbing him about whatever the cause was.
It hit him suddenly. A girl. He’d shown an interest, Scarlet had laughed. But then he’d gotten serious.
‘You should ask her out.’
‘Me?!’
‘I’ll be your wingman.’
He’d stayed silent for ages, staring out over the clouds.
‘You like her?’
He nodded.
‘Then tell her.’
‘I - I can’t.’
‘Why the hell not?’
The memory faded out and again he frowned. Something had happened, he just didn’t know what.
The next scene was the two of them, side by side as usual, only… he could feel the air of melancholy surrounding them.
‘If you want to talk you know I’m here for you.’
‘S-sorry, I’m not used to… talking about stuff.’
‘I know, but I’m here.’
There had been a hand on his shoulder and he thought he probably offered a small smile, thankful as always that Scarlet was such a good friend.
He’d been grateful at the time but hadn’t taken Scarlet up on his offer.
Two days later he left Spectrum on secondment for the World Space Patrol and Mars.
How many times since then had he regretted his actions? How often had he tried to make his captors see? But the horror of being their instrument while still having a corner of his own mind as himself didn’t matter to the Mysterons. No punishment would ever be enough for them.
He wasn’t a full Mysteron replicant like Scarlet, he was only a controlled human, one whose masters ‘healed’ when needed. There were times when the hidden part of his humanity wanted so badly to reach out to his old friend, but those times were only when he was not on a mission, when there was no opportunity to do anything other than sit and wait and mourn what could have been.
If he had told Scarlet how he had felt that fateful day would he have made a different decision? Maybe refused the secondment? Not gone to Mars? Not misunderstood the actions of the city?
Once upon a time. Wasn’t that how all good stories go?
But, like all original fairy tales, this one had so many dark moments. So, so many. And happy endings weren’t for everyone.
They weren’t for him.