He Brings Out The Devil In Me ~ Part 1 in The Slade Tales

By E.C.

Fandom: Oz

Archive: Peja, 'tis all yours...anyone else? Sure thing! Just lemme know so I can gloat

Pairing: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller

Rating: R-ish for language and naughty allusions

Summary: Beecher's on Death Row for the murder of Chris Keller a year after Oz is decontaminated and reopened. Chris Keller remains dead, but not forgotten...and busy torturing Toby, as always.

Disclaimers: These boys belong to Tom Fontana, but he treated them miserably so I swiped 'em. I'll put 'em back when I'm done, though. Also, Nick Lowe didn't get an $$$ for me using his song, and he's not gonna get nothin' but me gratitude. *grin*

Note: This takes place where the Season That Must Not Be Named ended...picks up where it left off, as it were. This was originally written for the Twisted Sisterhood Lyric Wheel, so it's a songfic. Song lyrics contained herein are from "The Beast In Me" by Nick Lowe. 'Tis unbeta'd, so blame me if it sucks. Why call it THE SLADE TALES, you ask? Simple...the muses mined my head for rock 'n roll titles to this series of stories. Here's the worldwide premiere. Every one is named for a Slade song...my TobyMuse and ChrisMuse have a thing for Noddy Holder. Whatcha gonna do? *grin*

The Slade Tales 1: He Brings Out The Devil In Me

By E.C.

"Tobias?"

I looked up at Sister Pete, feeling that unnatural smile come to my lips.

"Yes, Sister?"

"You're awfully quiet."

I shrugged, recognizing the liquid smooth motion even as my own body executed it. "Don't have a hell of a lot to say."

"You don't have anything to say about being convicted of murder?"

I stood up from my bunk, slowly stalking...yes, stalking, just like you, Chris...towards the front of my cell.

"Nope." I replied softly, knowing that same enigmatic glint he liked to turn on her is shining in my eyes.

Sister Pete shook her head. "Tobias, I have to admit that I'm concerned by your behavior as of late. Ever since your sentencing, you've begun displaying some-"

"-disturbing qualities?" I laughed bitterly, welcoming the harsh sound that was mine and mine alone. Finally, something that was Beecher and not this little bit of Chris Keller that had taken root in my soul, manipulating my body, mind, and even my heart. Briefly I wondered if I even had a soul left for Chris to take root in. Maybe that was why he had invaded me so easily...maybe
mine finally abandoned me and his set up shop in its place.

"Yes. I'm afraid of what's happening to you." Sister Pete said pointedly.

Her tone held a firm note of gentle persuasion...she was trying to make me see what was wrong with this picture known as Tobias Beecher.

Too late, Sister...I already know.

I knew the moment I stared off that balcony and looked into his eyes as Chris took his last breath. I could hear it, I could feel his heart beat for the last time in my own chest. His last kiss still lingered on my lips even as I saw the farewell in his eyes as he died. In that moment, I could feel the exhale of that final breath washing through me, tickling my face and seeping into every cell...his final gift to me. One last souvenir of the man who had been my undoing in all things.

When I sat on that bus after the evacuation of Oz, I could still feel his lips clamped desperately to mine as he kissed me goodbye. I could smell his skin, feel his voice sliding down my spine like fine silk. It stayed with me for that full year I spent in Lardner during the decontamination, stuck around during the court proceedings, and finally followed me home to Oz after every last biochemical agent was negated. Chris never left me...in death, he'd managed only to strengthen his hold on me.

Now I'm back in Oz and I can't get rid of Chris...what's more, I don't really want to. If I had any hope for salvation, any chance at survival, I might try to exorcise this demon. I might try to restrain it, to save myself from total anhialation. Now, after the trial, the conviction, the sentencing...now I welcome him. With all my chances gone, all hope long since dead, I welcome
this beast in me, this spectre of Chris Keller that is slowly draining away any traces of the man that once lived in this skin.

"Beecher, look. Look at what you're doing."

I look down at myself to see that I'm peering out through my lashes at Sister Pete from between two bars of my cell door, chin resting lightly on the steel crossmember below them. My forearms protrude from the cell languidly as they drape across a lower crossmember. I'm positively lounging there against the front of my cell, and I know that my eyes are filled with heat in a perfect carbon copy of the master seducer himself...at least, I would be if he'd had blond hair and a much slighter build.

The brief mental image I have of myself, pulling off that pose, is enough to make me chuckle humorlessly. I back up and begin to pace slowly with my head down, an action that is somewhere between me and him...a middle ground where the beast in me is caged by frail and fragile bars, locked within a prison cell of its own.

The difference between us is that the beast, restless by day and by night, can escape at any time. When I get out, it's going to be for a long walk into Hell, and the beast will be waiting there for me with a brilliant smile and cobalt blue eyes. Or, if I believe Chris, I'll be strolling right through the
Pearly Gates with Keller on my arm as he charms Saint Peter right out of his angelic robes to get us in.

"I know that Chris's death is hitting you hard," Sister Pete continued, still nonthreatening and friendly, "and I know that the conviction is hitting even harder. You can't lose hope, though, Tobias! You still have a chance with your appeal, if you can overturn the conviction then you can still try for parole again. You must try to stay focused...your children need you to walk out of here."

"They need their father to walk out of here, Sister." I reply softly.

"And there's not much of him left to do that now."

"That's not true."

"It is, Sister. Call it schitzophrenia, call it posession, call it whatever you want, but Chris is still here and he's taking me down with him." I gazed through the bars, to the other empty cells on Death Row where I sat waiting to face the enemy I'd helped Chris evade: the electric chair. Tobias feared that death by electrocution would be painful, but Chris still wanted his demise to have that same spark that his life had had...he still wanted to go out on a charge.

Who's who? Who's driving? I was, but day by day he gets stronger. I play his games, speak with his voice, captivate the staff and inmates with his looks and touches. I'm fading slowly as the sun sets on my life, and for that I feel a grim sense of vindication. By the time Tobias Beecher has faded away and Chris Keller lives again, he'll finally meet the fate I'd wished on him upon my return to Oz.

"You know, Sister," I say, coming back to lean my forearms against the bars of my cell and stare out at her, "it's funny. The day he died, I told him that he was Death. I begged him to let me live. He told me he couldn't just before he jumped." I rest my head against my arms and feel a flicker of encouragement when the older woman's eyes spark with recognition. I've clawed my way to
the surface again. I have these moments, times where he backs off, and even somehow manages to vanish in the air. This is one of these times...the last time. I know that I can't keep resisting Chris...I never could. He'll have me back very soon, and I no longer care. There's not enough of me left to hate him any longer...only enough of me left to love him completely. Just the way he
wants it.

"We won't let you go, Tobias." Sister Pete whispers, laying a hand on my arm through the bars. "Your family won't let you die, and I won't either.

There are still people fighting to put an end to capital punishment...you still have a chance to live!"

I smile and shake my head. "No, I don't. He saw to that. I told him if he loved me he'd leave me alone...he hasn't. I begged for life...he couldn't let me have that, either. He gave me everything... his heart, his body, his soul.

I didn't give him nearly enough in return. This is the price I have to pay."

"That's not love, not REAL love. Real love has no price."

"That's in the real world, Sister Pete. That's for relatively normal people. Everyone's right, you know, we're a couple of sick and twisted fucks. Now we're sick and twisted together...you don't get much sicker than turning into your dead lover, do you? You don't get much more twisted than destroying another man from beyond the grave just so you can own him completely...never be
afraid of losing him..."

"You can't do this! You can't lose yourself."

"I don't really have a choice."

"There is always a choice. You have to be strong...you can't let despair win."

"It's not despair." I say, my voice tight. I know that the moment of clarity is nearly over...I know that it's Chris's feral grin on my face. "It's not that at all. When he said he couldn't let me live, he didn't mean that he'd just let me get nailed for his murder...he meant that he wouldn't let me live."

I pause, resuming my lounge against the bars. "And he's not. He's not gonna let me live...not even long enough to see my own death."

"Tobias..." Sister Pete whispers, and I see it in her eyes that I am no longer there. The spectre has consumed me, and there is nothing left but a vision of Keller's features superimposed over mine. She sees...they all see.

They've seen him out dressed in my clothes. He is all they will see until I feel the electricity coursing through my body, snuffing out my life along with his, sending us out and up into Heaven to see whether or not God's got the balls to keep us out.

I laugh, and it is his smoky chuckle that chills us both to the bone. My eyes feel darker, a smoldering cobalt blue instead of the lighter shade they usually are.

"Sorry, Sister." he whispers through my lips. "But if I couldn't have him...no one's gonna."

We all have our demons to fight, the beasts at our back...he is mine, and I have lost the battle.
God help the beast in me.

******************************

THE BEAST IN ME-Written & Performed by Nick Lowe:
The beast in me, is caged by frail and fragile bars. Restless by day, and by night, rants and rages at the stars. God help, the beast in me.
The beast in me, has had to learn to live with pain,and how to shelter from the rain. And in the twinkling of an eye, might have to be restrained. God help, the beast in me
Sometimes, it tries to kid me,that it's just a teddy bear. And even somehow manage to vanish in the air. And that is when I must beware, Of the beast in me, that everybody knows. They've seen him out dressed in my clothes. Patently unclear, If it's New York or New Year. God help the beast in me.
The beast in me.