Wasn't that nice? About time something horrid happened. Aeryn rests, her hand in John's hair where he leans on the bed next to her, sleeping. She smiles sweetly, watching him. REM and then a scream, twisting away from her hand.
The old guys always talk about the difference between "invoke" and "evoke." You draw a circle on the floor and invite something inside it. It can't leave the circle and it can't touch you, and it can't leave until you say and it can't stay once you do. That's evoking something. It's a conversation you're having with something, but that thing is not you. Invoking, however...that's possession. Blood and milk, and the Scorpius that John could be. And you know his name. And you know the hateful face he wears.
A heavy old door opens before us, into a grainy faded black and white. Candelabras, velvet, dust and stone. Organ music, fog along the floor. A coffin sits on a dais in the center of the room. This is what killing off your loved ones earns you. Did you think there wouldn't be a price for that? Did you think you could play at being blood brothers with the Devil himself, and you wouldn't pay for it? Aeryn sure as fuck did. She knew.
The lid of the coffin creaks open. Harvey sits up, in a dusty old tuxedo; he has long Nosferatu fingernails, which is how you know I'm not making this up. He taps them together. John stands at his side, wearing a funeral suit. For all those that died, in this reality and others.
"Harvey? You're not dead." Of course not, he whispers, and chuckles like dead leaves. "I am the undead." John shakes his head. Not funny. "The son of a bitch said he took you out of my head." Harvey smiles, affecting a Romanian accent. "Scorpius, he upgraded me to...Harvey 2.0." It wasn't Scorpius that made that choice, though. I know the story, but this is arising from meanings under the surface too. "One of my many improvements: utter loyalty to Scorpius." Harvey sniffs and stares him down. John says, quite rightly, that this is not an improvement. Harvey says that it is. After all, his agenda is to eliminate the Scarran threat, and there's nothing dumb about that. Harvey clicks his fingernails together, loudly, and John protests. "You know I don't give a damn about his agenda." Harvey orders him to return to the station for Scorpius, and John drops the coffin lid on him -- like a garbage bin, isn't it? For people. No reason to think that it won't work again. "Go back to sleep before I drive a stake through your heart." He takes it easy, lying back in the coffin; John walks away.