How Does It Feel?

By E.C.

Fandom: OZ

Pairings: Beecher/Keller, with appearances by Shirley Bellinger, James Robson, and CO Len Lopresti

Archive: Peja, 'tis all yours...everyone else? Sure, just lemme know so I can gloat

Disclaimers: These are Tom Fontana and HBO's brain children, they're just sleeping over in my brain for the weekend.

Notes: Part 3 of The Slade Tales...the saga continues! *grin* Sequel to "He Brings Out The Devil In Me" and "Till Death Do Us Part." Also the first SLADE story to NOT be a sonfic! Yay! LOL...and what's more, this story's just SLIGHTLY inspired by the actual Slade tune, but not enough to throw the lyrics in here.

Summary: Toby's time runs out as he meets up with Old Sparky, with a little otherworldly company in the form of his dead lover. So I guess there's character death in this one. Sorta. But only for a minute, I promise. *grin*

The Slade Tales 3: How Does It Feel?
By E.C

"Sugar?"

I remain silent.

"Tobias? Hon?"

I don't answer.

"Now darlin', there's no need for the silent treatment. I'm just trying to be friendly."

"I don't need your bullshit, Shirley." I snarl at the spectre leaning against the far wall of my cell. "I have enough to deal with today without listening to a fucking dead person yammer."

Shirley Bellinger just chuckled merrily. "Why, Tobias!"

"Lay off, Shirl." Chris grins from my bed. "Guy's got enough on his mind, you're botherin' him. It's Monday, remember?"

"Oh, yes." Shirley gasped, as if startled. "You'll have to forgive me, Tobias, but you DO tend to lose track of time when you're dead. Don't worry, though, you'll get used to it."

I shake my head and stand up forcefully enough to knock my chair down. I start to pace back and forth across my cell, panic rising in my chest. I can feel Chris's eyes on me, watching as I slowly lose what's left of my shattered mind.

"Toby, hey, c'mere." he soothes, rising from the bunk to stand in my path. Instinctively, I stop pacing even though I know he's not really there. His hands settle on my shoulders, and I swear to God I can feel them, a comforting weight against me, the chill touch of Death reaching me through my thin t-shirt.

"Get your fucking hands off me, Chris." I snarl, trying to brush him away and failing as my fingers meet empty air.

Chris pulls me close. "It's all right, Toby. It's all right. Easy, baby...it'll all be over soon."

I struggle, but for a change I don't get free. His arms are bands of ice that draw me to him, and I sink against his freezing bulk. He's so cold, but still so solid, so strong and for a minute I believe that he really is there with me, making those soft noises in my ear as I tremble with terror and
self-loathing.

"Not much longer, baby...not much longer and we'll be together again."

"I don't want this. I don't want this, Chris!"

For a moment, Chris pulls away and forces me to stare into those endless blue eyes...Jesus, were those eyes ever so beautiful when he was alive?

"Toby," Chris whispers gently, "if you really didn't want us to be together again, you'd have fought your appeals harder. You'd have beaten this thing. You're tired, Toby...you need to rest."

I can't hide the defeated sigh that escapes me. "I know. I'm...I'm just so scared."

Chris rubs his hands along my arms, and I fight a losing battle not to be placated, not to let his touch be such a comfort. "Shhh...easy, Toby. I'm here. I won't leave you...never again."

"This is wrong." I protest weakly.

Chris just smiles, and I hate how much I love seeing it. "WE'RE wrong, Toby. Both of us...we're a couple of sick fucks that never fit...two mistakes that don't belong in this world. The only place we ever fit was with each other, on our own terms, and everyone else just never wanted to agree to them."

I sigh. "I hate it when you're right."

"I know." He reaches up with one hand and smooths it over my smooth, cleanly shaven head. "This is better, you know it is."

I nod. "Yeah, I do." I pause. "I miss you so much."

"Christ, I miss you too, baby. Not long now, though."

"Nope...not long now. Back here or in Heaven."

"Heaven's wherever you are, Toby."

**********

"So, you still got duty on Death Row?"

"Yeah...fucking Beecher. Guy's lost his mind. Talks to himself all the damn time...it's making me crazy."

"Still? What stuff's he saying?"

"Keeps jawing with dead people...Chris Keller and Shirley Bellinger specifically. And every time I tell him to shut the fuck up, he tries to give me shit the way Keller used to."

"Bellinger? What's that psycho talkin' to her for?"

"Fuck if I know...I still hate that cunt for ratting me out before she bought it."

"Now don't tell me you actually think he's really SEEING them!"

"What? Fuck no! It's just...he keeps jawin' at nothing, and I start thinking about that gal..."

"Was she a good fuck?"

"Man, she was something else...memorable."

"Yeah, so's Beecher. I think even after he fries, folks'll still be talking about the time he chomped off Robson's dick."

"How is that fuck, anyway? I heard Beecher mention his name a couple times."

"Living large in the AIDS unit...though he's been getting sick a lot, so he's in the hospital more than anything."

"Lucky you. I wish Beecher'd get a cold or something."

"Doesn't he fry today?"

"Yeah, that's right! I almost forgot. Thank God...tonight I can get some peace and quiet."

"That's fucked up, Lopresti."

"Yeah, ask me if I give a fuck...that whackjob is giving me a headache."

**********

"So you all set, Toby?"

I nod. Chris and I are sitting together on the bunk now, while Shirley leans against the bars of the cell and stares out at Lopresti, who's taking notes of my last moments.

"I ought to be set." I joke weakly. "Had my last meal and all."

"Least that pizza you had was better than Shirley's Slim Fast shake."

Chris chuckles.

Shirley turns her head towards us and glares. "Men...you will simply never understand the importance of looking your best."

Chris just laughs and shakes his head, turning back to me. "What's gonna happen after?"

"My will was taken care of weeks ago...everything goes to the kids. I gave custody of Holly and Harry to my mother."

"What about you?"

"Burial...right next to you."

Chris's eyes go wide. "What the hell...?"

I spare a hollow grin at the ghost beside me. "I helped Bonnie with your funeral, Chris. When the judge handed down my death sentence, I called her up and asked her to purchase the plot right next to yours."

Chris chuckles in shock. "Toby, you fuck! What about your family?"

"Fuck 'em. They always got me in the end during my life...now in death I'm all yours."

Chris reaches for me, and I slide willingly into his arms. When his lips touch mine, the contact is less cold. A hint of remembered warmth creeps in as our mouths fuse together.

"Boys?"

I tear my mouth from his as Shirley gives us both a reproving stare. "What is it, Bellinger?"

"I hate to spoil the moment, but it looks like it's nearly time."

"Hack in black at twelve o' clock!" Chris crows as he looks past me to see Father Ray approach my cell.

"Now Christopher, you could TRY to be a bit more respectful." Shirley scolds him.

Chris just flashes his trademark shit-eating grin. "Make ya a deal, I'll show respect if God will show his face...me an' Tobe got a date with the Pearly Gates. I promised, after all."

"Both of you shut up, please!" I beg wearily. "We have some business to attend to first."

"Sorry, darlin'." Shirley apologizes, sounding genuinely remorseful.

Chris stands and reaches for my hand, pulling me up off the bunk. His arms go around me again, and they feel a little bit warmer than before. "Ready?" he asks.

"About as ready as I'll ever be." I murmur.

"Get a move on, Beecher." Lopresti barks.

Chris releases me and nods. "G'head...we're right here with ya. Just don't get too close to Lopresti...I hear assholery's contagious."

"If that were the case, Christopher," Shirley quips sweetly, "I believe Tobias would have caught a case from you a long time ago"

I nod, tongue snaking out to moisten lips suddenly gone dry. I put my hands through the bars, letting another faceless guard cuff me. I spare a glance at Lopresti, who's wearing a shit-eating grin that annoys the hell out of me.

"God, wouldn't I love to clobber that scumfuck." Chris growls.

Lopresti's dark eyes flash with anger. "What was that?!?"

"Chris, shut the FUCK up for a minute, he heard you!" I hiss. I turn to Lopresti and manage a small twitch of lips that passes for a smile. "Nothing, sir."

"Lunatic." I hear him mumble as I'm ushered out of my cell.

**********

"I still say it would have been better to choose lethal injection, Tobias." Shirley comments as we take that walk, Father Mukada's prayers providing a background soundtrack for my last moments. "It's far less painful, from what I was told."

"It's gotta be better than hanging." Chris commented. "You were loony for choosing that, Shirley."

"Don't think I didn't know it!" Shirley commented, rubbing her neck as she rolled her head. "Hurt like you wouldn't believe. Still, it had to be better than this!"

"This is for Chris." I whisper, keeping my eyes forward as I talk to the ghosts at either side of me. "This is how he wanted to die."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris look towards me.

"You didn't have to do this for me, Tobe." Chris mumbles, his voice tinged with awe. "It would've been easier for you to go with lethal injection...there's no need for the chair."

"You died for me." I reply simply. "Now I'm dying for you."

Chris grumbles wordlessly, but I know that it's done with affection. "Toby...thanks."

"Your welcome."

"Do you know what your last words will be?" Shirley asked.

"It doesn't matter." I whisper. "Maybe nothing. Words always get me into trouble...Chris can attest to that. Maybe I'll just call out his name and the names of my children...the only group of people that ever really mattered to me."

I hear Chris gasp beside me, and I have to turn and look, to see those eyes once again. They're almost luminescent now, the most dazzling blue I've ever seen them.

"Christ, I love you, Toby." Chris chokes out.

"I love you, too, Chris...always."

"Until nothing do us part." he grins, reaching out to squeeze one of my cuffed hands.

I enjoy the way Lopresti flinched as I laugh out loud.

**********

"Those straps are too tight." Chris frets as the hacks restrain me.

"Stop worrying." I soothe him. "I'm fine."

The hack fastening the buckles at my chest gives me a strange look. Chris grins and bends down, his face inches away from mine.

"What's wrong, handsome?" he purrs. "All this death got you a little excited?"

On an impulse, I strain forward to nip at his nose. The hacks on either side push me back, making sure I'm secured before releasing me.

Chris kneels beside me and cradles my hand between both of his. His touch is becoming warmer by the moment...the closer I come to the end, the more alive he is to me.

The hack draws back the curtain. There sit my witnesses...Sister Pete's there, and for that I'm grateful.

"Sister Peter Marie." Shirley sighs. "How nice of her to come."

"I figured she'd be here." Chris murmured, eyes fixed on my face. "Toby? You okay?"

I note that my mother didn't show up...but Angus is there. For some reason, I'm both relieved and comforted...I didn't want to see my mother right then, but Angus's face was a welcome sight.

"I'm fine." I repeat.

Chris grins as Querns stands before me and asks if I have any last words.

I lean close to the microphone and say the only thing that comes to mind, forgetting what I told Shirley before.

"I'm ready."

**********

"Toby?"

Warm arms encircle my shoulders, hauling me to my feet and enfolding me in pure contentment. I lean into the powerful embrace, burying my face in a muscled shoulder with a satisfied sigh. I can smell the familiar scent of soap, heat, and musk that was uniquely Chris Keller.

I draw back after a moment, pressing a quick, satisfying kiss to blessedly familar lips. He smiles, and I know right then that his cobalt blue eyes really HAD been that beautiful in life...every time they looked at me. I find comfort in that notion.

"You all right, baby?"

I reach up to cup his cheek as he smoothes his hands over my waist. "I'm fine now. Everything's fine."

I turn in Chris's arms to stare at the black hooded man sitting strapped to the electric chair. His arms wrap securely around my waist as his chin settles on my shoulder.

"I look like hell."

"LOOKED like hell, Toby...that's not you anymore. Just an old container waiting to be thrown away."

"JUST an old container? You were pretty fond of it before, Keller...couldn't keep your hands off it."

Keller snakes one hand down to cup my crotch, and even though the flesh is gone I can feel myself getting hard.

"Baby, I STILL can't keep my hands off of you." he purrs in my ear, sending shivers down my non-existent spine. Briefly, I'm reminded of the moment I was able to feel the electricity surging through my body, just before the world reduced to the feel of Chris's hands touching me, pulling me out of the chair.

"Your own personal Angel of Death, I guess." Chris muses, echoing my thoughts.

I turn in his arms again, settling comfortably against him until we're touching from chest to groin. "You're my angel, all right."

"Even after everything I did to you?"

"I hope I'm right in assuming I left all that shit behind in that old container you used to use as your personal touchstone."

Chris smiles, and I drink in the peaceful light that shines in those blue, blue eyes. "Sexy AND smart...I knew there was a reason I loved ya, Tobe."

"Love you, too." I whisper, leaning in to kiss him again.

"So...what now?" I ask after we separate.

"Not much left for either of us here...at least, not unless you feel like havin' a little fun."

I gaze suspiciously at him. "What do you mean?"

A wicked smile curves Chris's lips. I realize how easy it will be to grow accustomed to that smile.

Damn him.

**********

In the hospital's AIDS ward, James Robson lay silent, drifting somewhere between sleep and conciousness. It was hard to get much in the way of rest these days. At the moment, his insomnia was being inspired by the disease of the moment: parasitic pneumonia. His lungs were filled with fluid, making each breath a study in absolute agony.

He coughed, wincing as his chest burned. He was dying of AIDS, he couldn't breathe without inhaling pure flame, and he hadn't slept in a week. Life...what was left of it...couldn't get any worse.

"Hey! Hey, Robbie!"

The soft, dangerous voice chilled Robson to the bone. He knew that manic chuckle that followed the taunt in the darkness...but the crazy fuck was on Death Row! He was gonna fry tonight!

"C'mon, Half-Dick...wake up and join the party."

Silken and seductive...another voice Robson was, unfortunately, all too familiar with...one that had been gone for at least a year now.

Robson opened his eyes to see two sets of blue eyes staring down at him...one a washed-out blue, the other a brilliant sapphire.

"Oh, shit." he coughed wetly.

"Better believe it, fuckwad." the blonde spectre cackled. "If you think Genital Snacktime was all I had in store for you, think again."

A cold hand settled on his shoulder, a frigid touch straight out of Hell itself pressing into his flesh to force him down to the bed.

"Get comfy, Robson." Chris whispered in his ear. "Toby 'n me? We ain't goin' nowhere. Nope...we got Eternity to bust your balls."

"Think that'll be long enough, Chris?"

"Never, baby."

Robson just moaned weakly into the endless darkness ahead.

END