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Why hadn't he asked if the clones had fear shields? Why hadn't he ******** asked?

The sounds of destruction made him freak out even further, feeling suddenly dizzy, the world seeming to narrow in on him. He was going to ******** die.

"You DON'T know how to interact." he almost shrieked. "You COULD JUST HAVE ANSWERED ME OR COME OUTSIDE OF HERE. I'M SORRY."

And even as he apologized he gave the blade a two handed twist.

The blood was what he'd been after and the sight of it absolutely chilled his blood. The desk was history. Collateral damage. He was going to be collateral damage. He knew it. Even the figure was broken. The panic at this point had practically unhinged him, he didn't want to come back down to earth, he didn't want to think, he didn't want to look at what he'd just done and what the implications were.

He froze, breathing shallowly, chest rising and falling frantically, hands on the handle of the axe. He did not desummon but only because at this point any action at all seemed completely insane. He froze instead, transfixed by the weight of the stare and the words, hoping with everything he had that the blood would crawl back, that he would be vindicated, even that he would wake up in bed, at the end of a terrible terrible dream.

"I didn't mean it." he said, in a tiny, fragile voice.

Rep forgot to breathe in the moment, eyes fixed on the blood which did exactly what he expected blood to do.

William.> Tracey said, normally cool and collected, all acerbic comments but now spiked through with concern and fright.

In the moment there was a panic, a sharp spike of mad insanity, the thought that maybe he could finish the job, maybe he could finish all of this. Kill him and then no one would ever be any the wiser, no consequences. It was a crazy crazy thought but like a wild animal he gripped the handle tighter, even with Marie shifting around the axe refusing to give his partner up.

"And if I don't?"

Rep could only look on numbly, hardly realizing what was happening until it did, his mind far away in shock. He hadn't expected it, didn't know how to react or cope.

It was probably how it felt to be shot in some vital organ, the damage too great to even register, the brain shutting it out out of some kind of instinctual mercy.

Rep's brain stopped circling the airport only to realize that there was a horrendous sound somewhere far away and that it wasn't H and it wasn't him. It was something stretched between the keening of a dying animal and screeching grating steel and it was with numb horror that he realized that what he could hear was Tracey. The fallen angel was shriekin in agony as he was twisted to the point of desummoning and it was a sound Rep had never experienced in his entire time bonded to the weapon. It was worse than any cry of indignance, of anything that had been elicited from his partner in emotion or in combat.

And with it came absolute agony, a pain that was both physical and mental, a hardwired bolt of pain that ran to the very heart of him. Solely physical pain sometimes he could savour, diverting the sensations into pleasure, with this there was no defense, no way to do anything but suffer. It was his turn to cry out, a strangled sound he choked back, biting down, bringing his hands up to his chest, hugging himself as if it would alleviate the pain in some way, any way. It did not.

The earrings were cracked, twisted and splintered as they reappeared in his ear, digging into his skin, it felt horrendous, a raw attack on something that ran deeper than flesh, violator in the extreme. He staggered and sat because standing was no longer an option.

"The fu...the ******** did you...did you do to him." he said, on the edge of tears, because it was one thing to hurt him, but another to hurt those close to him, whose only mistake was choosing him for a friend.

Rep froze and hung his head. "I'm sorry sir."