Fandom: The Dresden Files.
Title: Mind of the Dog.
Rating: PG13 (mild)
Summary: Heather Bram's view on things in the wake of Hair of the Dog.
Warning: (a few bad words in this)
also archived at: AO3.
I am alive. I made it through all the shit and the mindlessness and the plain evil of it. That by itself would be enough for most... Maybe it might have been enough for the other eight, if they had lived. But if they had lived, there wouldn't - Better stop there. Can't let myself think in circles, because then I notice everyone smells like food, and - Stop it.
Have to control and learn control over myself. Deep breaths won't hold me forever. Tea and this seltzer-tasting tonic won't always be there. I have to- I have to -
At the very least, even if everything else is ignored and left aside, I have one damn good reason to master this...condition. If I have control, then I'll be that much better than the woman who turned me into this. I could say 'I want to be better than her, it's only human' -- only I'm not. Not anymore. Not thanks to her.
Me. Werewolf. Lycanthrope.
It's like half the cautionary tales were breathed to life: A corrupt agent of the government. Picking off people she's supposed to be protecting. Spreading chaos and fear. Hiding behind her badge. She hunted me, she hunted my friend.
...Converted and tried to kill us, not because we were Mina and Heather and - what were the names of the others? Not because we were Watkins and Brams. Probably didn't even matter that we were women. We were convenient, that's all, and nothing more. We were the ones who got close enough. So that, and only that, was why we were the ones who she made into her own personal pharmacy. 'Kill nine, remove the sign.' We were numbers who had faces only because she had to get close enough to bite us. She never cared. Just cared about cleaning away the evidence - flash her badge, take everything with her.
...And then comes justice like the Hand of God. If He can use the Assyrian army, I've got no problem believing He used Harry Dresden to punish her. It's enough to make me believe again.
As Mina used to say, thanks be to God. Only I'm not making a joke.