Template:Featured Articles/2-2020

Moment of Awesome - Amanda Sefton/Daytripper: The end of a years-long magical war comes with the death of someone Amanda knew literally in another lifetime. There was a ripple in the air and then Amanda was there, panting a little at the efforts she’d put in to get from Denver to London. She took in the scene at a glance, and with a nod to Topaz, she went to Adam’s side, unsure of what it was she would do. “Well… fuck.” Adam said, staring stupidly at the carnage he’d absorbed. “Fuck. I’m-“ He looked up and a weird small smile reached his face. “I fucked this one up fierce, right?” “And then some.” Amanda’s tone was carefully neutral. “But it’s over now.” There was the barest hint of a question. “Yeah… I-“ He stopped, contorting in pain from the damage. “I- I didn’t want to be him, Mandy. I didn’t. It was just- what I knew.” He caught her gaze, helpless and afraid, the end coming for him. “How did I become him?” It was the helplessness that did it; Amanda reached for one bloody hand, holding it between her own. “You had to,” she replied, softly. “He’d have killed you otherwise. It could have just have easily been me.” “But it wasn’t. I’m bad. I know I’m bad…” His hand convulsed around hers. “Was I so bad I wasn’t worth trying to save?” Blood burbled from his mouth, staining his throat and shirt with the rich red arterial flow. “No. You weren’t.” As much as Amanda told herself it hadn’t been her who had left him to Rack’s mercies, in some weird multi-dimensional Frankenberry-fucking-cat way, she had. And she was the only one here now to reply to it. She freed one hand and wiped the blood from his lips. “But I wasn’t good enough to save you. Not then. And I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry. I really am. I-“ He coughed again, and the bubbles became a stream. He grasped her hand, hard, trying to find anything at the end. With a spasm, his hand gripped harder, and the last bit of magic he could summon was focused on Amanda. “What--?” Amanda’s gaze unfocused, turned inward, as images flooded her vision. No, not just images, these were memories. Adam’s memories, of a girl called Amanda Sefton who had shared his magical bondage to a sadistic monster. A girl who’d escaped and left him to hell. A girl he’d loved, in his own terrible, broken way. The last that was left of him, given to her to hold. His grip slacked. Adam looked at Amanda, his eyes pleading for something that didn’t exist. In a moment, they clouded over, and he ceased to exist as well.