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Rating: PG to PG-13
Category: sci-fi, mystery, crossover
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: all Lost characters belong to ABC and their creators. All
Carnivale characters belong to HBO and their creators. I derive no
profits from this and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Here is a little background on the Carnivale characters
featured in this story.
Brother Justin Crowe - A Methodist minister in California's rich
Central Valley. He experienced manifestation of supernatural powers at
a young age-specifically the ability to see into others' souls
accompanied by the powers of illusion and telekinesis. Horrified,
traumatized by their fatal effect, young Justin sublimated these
abilities into adulthood. In 1934, devoted not only to his flock,
but also to the poor Okies pouring in from the Dust Bowl, Justin began
experiencing apocalyptic dreams and visions as, once again, the powers
he buried so long ago have begun reasserting themselves. Along with the
manipulations of Iris, Justin stands poised on the brink of fame as a
radio evangelist.
Iris Crowe - Brother Justin's older sister, she cared for him after the
death of their mother, Plemina Belyakov, in a train crash in the
California Sierras. Though her brother had long since forgotten about
his strange powers, she alone kept his secret, fervently praying for
the day when the Lord would make His wishes known. With the onset of
Justin's visions, she takes action, ruthlessly pursuing what she sees
as her brother's divine destiny. Intensely loyal, fiercely protective,
she sees her station in life as one of service and devotion to Justin.
Chapter 1
The Discovery
Dickens, Henry James, Jung, Proust. "There's certainly quite a library
here." Desmond Hume thought to himself. He was standing in front of the
bookcase in the Swan hatch perusing the titles. Kelvin had just left on
one of his little treks so Desmond was all alone. He reached for "Turn
of the screw", intending to get the orientation film hidden behind it.
On the shelf above Dante's Inferno was sticking partially out. Desmond
reached up and pushed it in. The edge of the book made contact with
something hard. Curious, he pulled it out and peered into the empty
space. There was an old cigar box sitting on the shelf. Desmond
carefully lifted it out. "What could be in it?" he wondered. He had
never seen the box before and Kelvin had never mentioned it. He walked
over to the door of the computer room. There were 70 minutes left on
the countdown. It had been at 107 when Kelvin left, so he knew he'd be
undisturbed for a while yet. He went to the couch and sat down.
Looking surreptitiously around the hatch, he opened the box. Inside was
an old leatherbound book, a writing notebook, and a number of
photographs. Desmond took the book out and looked at it. It was a
Bible, with an ornately tooled cover. He picked up the notebook
next. It looked to be very old, as did the Bible. He opened it
and looked inside. "Property of Brother Justin Crowe, 1934" was written
inside the front cover. Flipping through the pages Desmond saw
various Bible verses, what looked to be parts of sermons, and a variety
of scrawls and doodles. He found these last to be the most surprising.
They were a mixture of religious symbols, depictions of genitalia, and
undecipherable scribblings. Puzzled, he closed the notebook and put it
aside. All that was left in the box was the photos. Desmond picked them
up, wondering what these things were doing in this hatch.
The photographs were black and white and appeared to have been taken in
the 1920s or 30s. Actually, the first one was likely older than that
judging by the way people were dressed. it showed a young boy and a
girl a few years older standing in front of what looked to be a church.
The next one showed just the boy standing by a bank of red offering
candles in a church, probably the one in the first picture Desmond
figured. The next picture showed a large, slightly run down building
that looked to have been a theater at one time. Part of a red neon sign
was visible. The rest was obscured by a white banner reading "Dignity
Ministry". The next picture looked to have come from a newspaper and
showed the same building, now blackened and gutted by fire. Next was a
picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a neat white church.
The woman was dressed in a dark, knee length dress, cloche hat, and
sensible shoes. Her hair was chin length and dark brown. Around her
neck was a dark pendant of some kind. The man was dressed in black
clerical garb. He had slicked back dark hair with just a hint of gray
and horn rimmed spectacles. "Iris and Justin, Sept. 1934" was written
on the back of the picture. The last photo showed the man standing in
front of the building with the "Dignity Ministry" banner. He was
wearing a long black cassock and holding a book that Desmond was almost
positive was a bible. He peered at the image, unable to put it down. If
the man had had a beard he could have been Kelvin's twin.
Desmond knew that wasn't possible given the age of the picture. It
could be a relative though. It had to be. Why else would there be such
a great resemblance? Desmond didn't know how long he sat there with
these thoughts going through his mind. He was jerked back to the
present by the beeping of the countdown. He went and pushed the button,
then quickly put everything back in the box and tucked it away on the
bookshelf. Kelvin should be getting back soon. Desmond took "The Third
Policeman" from its place next to "Atlas Shrugged" and went back to the
couch.
As he sat, his eyes fell on something sticking up between the
cushions. It was one of the pictures from the box. It must have fallen
when he was packing things up. There was a noise at the entryway to the
hatch. Desmond quickly stuffed the picture into the pocket of his
jumpsuit and picked up his book. Several moments later Kelvin entered
the room. "Hey Des, anything interesting happen while I was gone?" he
said cheerfully. Desmond chuckled. "Just the usual." He was glad
Kelvin's comments had lost the mocking tone they'd had the first few
months he'd been there.
"Anything interesting happen to you?" Kelvin shook his head. "Nah,
nothing much." He walked into the kitchenette and got a Dharma Cola out
of the refrigerator. Desmond watched him, thinking. "You ever thought
of shaving your beard?" he asked. His fingers ran over the pocket of
his jumpsuit, feeling the photograph tucked within. "Not really. Why?"
Kelvin answered. He took a long drink of his soda. "Just wondering."
Desmond replied, thinking quickly. "I used to have a beard and I found
it kind of itchy and uncomfortable. Besides, my girl didn't like it."
He glanced at the picture of himself and Penny standing on the
bookshelf. Kelvin chuckled. "I don't have that problem, and unlike you
I don't like shaving every morning." Desmond thought about the picture
in his pocket again. He wanted to ask Kelvin about it, but didn't know
how he could do that without admitting that he'd snooped around while
Kelvin was gone. "Something bothering you, Des?" Kelvin asked. "No.
Nothing's bothering me. I'm fine." Desmond answered. "You seem lost in
your own world." Kelvin sipped his soda and looked at Desmond with what
seemed to be genuine concern. "I'm just thinking about Penny." Desmond
replied, desperately trying to think of something Kelvin would believe.
"It's been over a year Des. I can't believe you're still pining for
her. I'm sure she's moved on by now." Desmond glared. "Don't say that.
I know she's waiting for me somewhere." Kelvin shook his head. "Go on
believing that if it makes you happy." Desmond sat forward on the
couch. "It's the bloody truth. Just because you don't have anyone
waiting for you doesn't mean you have to be bitter to me." Kelvin
sighed. "I'm not being bitter. I'm being a realist." He took a final
swig from his bottle of cola. "Family was never an option in my line of
work." Desmond thought he heard some regret in Kelvin's voice, although
he'd never admit to it.
Chapter 2
Birthright
Kelvin lay on his bunk. Sighing deeply he closed his eyes and thought
back on the last couple of days. Something was definitely bothering
Des. He hoped Desmond wasn't starting to lose it like Radzinsky did.
Kelvin didn't like to admit it, but he had become rather fond of his
Scottish hatchmate. Desmond was quiet, didn't complain about doing his
share, and most importantly, he was neat. Radzinsky had been a total
slob, leaving hair in the shower, Apollo bar wrappers by the computer,
and drinking milk straight from the carton. He had mentioned that he
had gotten divorced shortly before joining the Dharma Initiative.
Kelvin could see why. There were times when he had felt like strangling
Radzinsky. He was ashamed to admit it but part of him was glad Rad was
gone. Desmond could be a little too fastidious at times, but it was
preferable to the alternative. Kelvin sat up. He wished he could figure
out what was going on with Desmond.
Listening for the sound of approaching footsteps and hearing none, he
stood and peered at the top bunk. The blankets were pulled tight enough
to please a drill sergeant. A brown, stuffed bunny sat against the
pillows. Kelvin chuckled to himself. He still couldn't get over a grown
man sleeping with a stuffed animal, even if it was a gift from his
"girl". He didn't know what he hoped to find by snooping around. Except
for the bunny, a book, and the picture on the bookcase Desmond didn't
have any personal possesions. Something sticking out from under the
pillow caught his eye. Kelvin climbed partway up the ladder and slid
his hand under the pillow. He removed a black and white photo. "That
explains the beard questions." he thought as he looked at it. He was
only slightly surprised Desmond had found it. As much as the Scotsman
read he was bound to come across the box one of these days. Radzinsky
hadn't been much of a reader so the bookcase seemed a good hiding place
at the time. Kelvin had actually forgotten about the box and its
contents until recently. Peering at the impassive face of his
grandfather he understood how finding this could have unnerved Desmond.
The resemblance between them was spooky.
Listening again for sounds from the other room, Kelvin tucked the
picture back under the pillow where he found it and lay back down on
his bunk. He would have to tell Desmond about the picture one of these
days. Several minutes later he was fast asleep.
It was a beautiful day. A soft breeze ruffled his hair and the sun
warmed the back of his neck. He looked around him and realized where he
was. The Barrens in his hometown of Canaima, CA. Back in the late
fifties several children had supposedly gone missing there. There was a
town-wide search and a huge uproar. As a result, most parents forbid
their kids from going down there. Not that it did much good. Kelvin was
walking down a path that led to the center of the barrens. He quickened
his pace when he became aware of voices ahead of him. When he was
almost upon them he slipped behind a large oak tree. Two boys of about
8 or 9 sat on fallen logs. Kelvin's eyes widened as he realized one of
them was himself and the other was his best friend Timmy Dolan.
He watched with a mixture of confusion and fascination as his younger
self took something wrapped in a handkerchief out of his knapsack.
Kelvin knew what it was before he saw it opened. Two Pall Mall
cigarettes stolen from the pack his father kept in a desk drawer in his
study, and a book of matches. Little Kelvin reverently opened the
bundle and removed said objects. He handed one of the cigarettes to
Timmy and took the other one himself. Looking around to be sure they
were alone, he struck a match and lit the cigarettes. Adult Kelvin
chuckled softly at the way the boys choked and gagged after taking the
first drag. He had never taken to smoking very much, only picking up
the habit briefly in the military. Little Kelvin stubbed out his
cigarette, losing interest quickly. Timmy took another drag, trying to
look cool. A sound in the distance made both boys look up. Someone was
coming.
Thinking it was the constable they quickly hid their cigarette butts
and scrambled to their feet. Moments later a raggedy looking hobo
stepped into the clearing. Adult Kelvin wasn't too surprised by
this.The Union-Pacific railroad ran nearby and bums riding the rails
often camped in these woods. At the time he was growing up it was quite
common to find empty liquor bottles, tin cans, food wrappers, and other
garbage among the trees and plants. One time he and Timmy found an old
girlie magazine at an abandoned campsite not too far from where he was
now. It had been a lot more interesting reading than the Batman comics
they usually looked at down here. Kelvin couldn't hear what the hobo
was saying to the boys but it appeared he was asking them for
something. The boys shook their heads and backed away slightly.
The hobo began to get angry. He berated the boys in a slightly slurred
voice. Kelvin wanted to do something to help them but was unable to
move or call out. He could only watch helplessly. Little Kelvin
continued backing away, his knapsack held in front of him. He had
nearly made it to the edge of the clearing when he heard Timmy squeal.
The hobo had him pinned with his arms behind his back. He yelped again
and struggled to get free.The hobo tightened his grip and clamped a
dirty hand over his mouth. The look in the hobo's
eyes made adult Kelvin wonder if he was all there. According to his
father, all bums were either drunks or crazy. He had to agree with him
this time. "No" Little Kelvin shouted. He stood totally still facing
the hobo and his friend. Suddenly the bum let go of Timmy and stumbled
backward as if pushed by an invisible hand. "You're a bad man." Little
Kelvin said. The hobo's head jerked to the side, then back farther than
it should have been able to. There was a sickening crack as his neck
broke.
Adult Kelvin watched this with a mixture of shock and understanding.
The boys stared in horror then grabbed their packs and ran towards the
entrance to the barrens.Kelvin followed them from a safe distance. He
saw them clamber up the embankment, then head off toward the town and
their homes. He remembered that for weeks after this happened every
time the doorbell rang he would run and hide, sure it was the police
coming to take him away.
Kelvin climbed the embankment, still in shock over what he now
remembered doing. As he reached the top he saw someone standing there.
It was his Grandfather Justin. He was dressed in his cassock and held a
bible in his hands. Kelvin looked at him, unable to speak. "Every
prophet in his house." Justin said.
Kelvin's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright on his bunk. "I
killed him." he thought. "that bum, I willed it and it happened."
Shivering a little he lay back down. He was still awake when Desmond
came in some time later.
Chapter 3
Dreams and remembrances
Desmond backed towards the door of the hatch, his eyes wide. Kelvin
advanced toward him, a scowl on his face. "Just a few more steps."
Desmond thought. Suddenly the countdown began over the loudspeaker and
the blast doors began to close. Desmond looked on in horror as his
escape route vanished. Kelvin continued coming closer. He was holding
what looked to be a scythe or a machete, and his eyes were pure black
orbs. He stopped several feet away from where Desmond was cowering.
With his free hand he opened his jumpsuit. Desmond's eyes
widened.Covering Kelvin's torso was a tattoo of a large, twisted tree.
Kelvin raised the scythe. "I am the Usher of destruction." Desmond
jerked upright in bed. His heart was pounding and his t-shirt and
shorts were soaked with sweat. What a dream that had been.
In the living area Kelvin sat on the couch, his grandfather's journal
and bible on his lap. He was pensive, thinking about the dreams he'd
been having. Until they had started he had forgotten the truth about
himself and what he was. Kelvin turned at a sound coming from the
sleeping area. Desmond was awake. He stood and put the books back in
their hiding place. He was just going over to the computer when Desmond
came into the room. Kelvin watched him go into the kitchen and take out
the blender and the ingredients for a smoothie. "You ever think about
getting a tattoo?" Desmond asked him. "What?" Kelvin answered. He
entered the code then went to sit on the couch. "I asked if you ever
wanted a tattoo." Desmond replied. "No, not really. Anyway, in my
former line of work distinguishing marks are a detriment." He looked at
Desmond curiously. "Why are you asking about tattoos?" Desmond poured
his smoothie into a glass. "Just wondering. Some of my mates in the
army had them. I never had much interest myself." Kelvin nodded. He
didn't say so but he knew Desmond was lying. "I wonder what possesses
some people to get great big tattoos. Could you imagine having your
whole back covered with artwork?Or having a big twisted tree on your
front? Kelvin sat up straight, his interest piqued by this last
comment. "Did you ever see anything like that?" he asked. "No. It was
just an example." Desmond replied.
Kelvin stood and went over to him. He noted with interest how Desmond
backed away as he approached. "Tell me the truth, Des." Most of the
color had drained from Desmond's face. "I am telling the truth." Kelvin
shook his head. "I worked in intelligence for ten years. I know when
someone's lying to me." Desmond took a sip of his smoothie. He looked
very uncomfortable and uncertain. "I saw the tattoo in a dream." This
got Kelvin's attention. "What kind of dream?" Desmond hesitated. "A bad
one." He sipped his drink again, almost wishing it was something
stronger. "I was here in the hatch. You were coming after me with a
scythe or something. You wanted to kill me." Desmond set his glass on
the counter. "You opened your jumpsuit and you had that tattoo on your
chest." Kelvin was paying close attention to this. "You sure it was me
you saw in your dream?" Desmond looked incredulous. "Of course I'm
bloody sure it was you. When you opened your shirt your eyes were pure
black and you said "I am the Usher of destruction", whatever that
means." Now it was Kelvin's turn to go pale. He had had a very similar
dream not too long ago. The only difference was in his it had been his
grandfather Justin with the scythe and tattoo.What did it mean that
Desmond was dreaming almost the same things he was? His most recent
dream had been even stranger. He had been at Sunday services in a small
church. His grandfather was presiding. It was communion time and a line
of people stood in the center aisle, going up to the altar. From his
seat in the front pew Kelvin could see everything that was going on. It
was at this point that the dream started getting strange. His great
aunt Iris stood next to his grandfather assisting with the distribution
of communion. She held a gold paten in her hands. It did not as
expected contain communion wafers; It was full of razor blades. Kelvin
watched as each person stepped up to the rail and a razor blade was
placed onn each outstretched tongue. His eyes widened in shock at the
small streams of blood coming from their mouths as they returned to
their seats. A tall, well built bald man stepped up to the rail. "The
body of Christ." Brother Justin held out the blade, tried to put it on
the man's tongue. "No it isn't." The man grabbed Justin's wrist. They
struggled while everyone in the church looked on. Justin's eyes had
gone totally black. Kelvin woke up after that.
"That was some kind of dream, Des." Kelvin said trying not to think of
the implications of it. "What do you think it means?" Desmond asked,
still keeping his distance from Kelvin. "Damned if I know. You don't go
in for all that Freudian dream analysis stuff do you? Like if you dream
about fighting it means you're mad at your mother. Stuff like that."
Desmond shook his head. "Good." Kelvin walked over to the storage area
and got out his protective suit. "You're going out?" Desmond
asked."Yep." Kelvin replied. Desmond walked over to him. "Let me go
with you for a little bit. I'll go back in time to push the button."
Kelvin shook his head. "No can do, Des." he replied. "It's better for
you to stay here." Desmond's hands clenched unconciously into fists.
"How do you know what's better for me?I'm going to go bloody nuts here
pretty soon if you don't let me out occasionally." Kelvin's eyes
narrowed and he stared directly at Desmond."I said you will stay here."
He reached for his suit to put it on. Desmond's eyes widened and he
began to gasp for breath. "Kelvin..." he managed as he sank to his
knees. "Des?" The color had drained from Kelvin's face. "No. I didn't
mean for this to happen." He thought . "What's wrong? Are you
alright?" He went over to where Desmond lay slumped on the floor. The
Scotsman was very pale but his breathing seemed to have improved.
Kelvin lifted him to his feet and helped him over to the couch. "Maybe
I should stay here." Desmond said softly. Kelvin went to the kitchen
and got him a glass of water. I don't feel much like going myself
anymore" He put the yellow suit back in the closet. Just then the alarm
started to sound. Kelvin went and entered the numbers. That had been
close. He had almost done the thing he had joined the Dharma initiative
to avoid. Desmond slowly stood up and went into the sleeping area,
leaving Kelvin alone with his thoughts.
Chapter 4
What happened in the past...
He thought back to the incident that had happened while he was working
in military intelligence as an interrogator. He had been in charge of
debriefing a captured terrorist suspect. He had just finished roughing
the man up, with little result. It was time to try something else.
Kelvin often found that pure silent intimidation could be as effective
as violence. He could break a prisoner just by sitting across from him
and glaring. No one lasted very long under that kind of scrutiny. It
had been a long day and he was feeling unusually short tempered.
Placing his palms flat on the table Kelvin leaned toward the prisoner.
His eyes narrowed. "You will tell me what you know." He glared
unblinkingly at him. Suddenly the man began to gasp and choke. His eyes
rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor. Kelvin called for
the medics but it was too late. Officially the prisoner had died from a
myocardial infarction brought on by stress and fear. Kelvin believed
that at the time. Now he understood what had really happened. The
thought that he had almost done the same thing to Desmond chilled him
to the bone. Getting up he went to check on his friend.
Desmond lay on his bunk with his eyes closed. He felt slightly shaky
and his head throbbed. What had happened to him out there? One minute
he had been fine, the next it felt like someone was crushing his chest.
Everything had gone dark for several seconds. He remembered Kelvin
practically carrying him to the couch. The look on the bearded man's
face when he brought him the glass of water scared Desmond more than
what had happened to him. He rolled onto his side and pulled the
blanket up to his chin. He forced himself to take slow deep breaths in
an effort to calm the fear he was still feeling. What the hell was
going on here? "Des?" Desmond slowly opened his eyes at the sound of
his name. "How are you feeling?' Wincing slightly he looked up at
Kelvin's concerned face. "Except for the fact that my head is bloody
pounding I'm okay." Kelvin looked down at Desmond. "I'll get you some
aspirin. Is there anything else you need?" Desmond shook his head.
Kelvin went to the bathroom and got two Dharma aspirin and a glass of
water. He brought them to Desmond then went into the living area. He
still felt terrible about what had happened. "I'm so sorry Des." He
thought. He walked to the bookcase and removed the box from its hiding
place. Sitting down on the couch he took out the pictures and slowly
looked through them. The picture of his grandfather and his great aunt
Iris caught his attention.
His maternal grandmother, Lily had been a maid in their house in
Mintern. She had gotten involved in an illicit relationship with Justin
that resulted in her pregnancy with Kelvin's mother. After she left
their employ Lily hadn't had much contact with Brother Justin. She
never spoke of the relationship either. Her eventual husband knew
nothing of it and thought her child was from a marriage to a man that
had been killed in the war. Lily had become friends with Iris while she
worked in the house and the two women did keep in touch over the years.
Kelvin had met his great aunt when he was nine years old. He had been
staying with his grandparents for the weekend and she had come to visit
them. He still remembered the look on Iris's face when he had come into
the parlor where she and his grandmother were having tea. It was like
she had seen a ghost. The women had then begun speaking Russian and he
had had no idea what was being said except for the odd word here and
there. (the name Alexei and the word for "bad") Kelvin looked down at
the picture in his hands. Iris had been in her eighties when he had met
her and looked a lot different than this. He wondered what it would
have been like to know her in her prime. From what he had heard she had
been quite a formidable woman. He picked up the picture of Justin and
Iris as children, It was shortly after this first meeting that he found
out the reason for her reaction. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his
grandfather. It wasn't until he was an adult that he realized that the
resemblance went further than just physical appearance. There were
signs when he was younger; the incident in the barrens, incidences of
doors slamming or objects falling off shelves when he was angry, the
time he had stepped in when his younger brother was being picked on on
the playground and the bully seemed to spontaneously collapse in a
seizure. he hadn't thought much of them until a few years ago. Kelvin
was pulled from his thoughts by the sounding of the alarm. Sighing, he
stood and went to enter the code.
Chapter 5
Awakenings
Tustin, CA
John Locke walked into Pete's diner and took a seat at the long Formica
counter. Pete's was one of his favorite places for lunch. (the best
burgers in southern California, they claimed) A throwback to the
fifties it had lots of chrome and Formica, red leather booths, and a
vintage Wurlitzer jukebox. A waitress in a pink and white uniform
brought him a cup of coffee and a menu. Several moments later the bells
over the door tinkled and a tall, bearded man dressed in a tan jumpsuit
entered the cafe. He took a seat two stools down from Locke. The
waitress brought him a glass of water and a menu. She looked at both
men. "Every prophet in his house." Locke glanced at the glasses of
water on the counter. The liquid inside now appeared to be blood.
Looking at his reflection in the mirrored board behind the counter that
listed the daily specials he gasped. His eyes were totally milk white.
He looked over at the bearded man. His eyes were pure black. On the
menu board the word "avatar" in blood red marker replaced the listing
of specials. Locke cried out and sat up in his bed. Several thousand
miles away Kelvin's eyes snapped open and he jerked awake on the couch
where he had been dozing. What a dream he had just had.
Locke couldn't get the previous night's dream out of his mind as he
wheeled himself into his cubicle to begin the workday. What did it all
mean? He had seen the bearded man in other dreams, sometimes alone and
sometimes accompanied by a tall man in a black cassock. "Hey Locke, I
need those TPS reports ASAP." His jerk of a boss, Randy said as he
entered Locke's cube. "I'm working on them." John replied, trying to
hide his annoyance. Randy looked at him with his usual condescending
sneer. "You know the only reason a cripple like you is even working
here is because the ADA requires companies to hire a certain number of
disabled employees.." Locke's hands tightened on the leather armrests
of his wheelchair. "You're easily replaceable, old man. Don't ever
forget it." Randy turned to leave. Locke's eyes narrowed and he stared
hard at his monitor. Behind him Randy began to clutch at his throat and
gasp. His eyes widened and he sank to his knees. Several people from
nearby cubicles came over. Locke picked up his phone and called the
paramedics. "What happened? " someone asked. "He was just asking me
about TPS reports when he collapsed. I hope it's not serious?" Someone
had gotten Randy a glass of water and helped him to a chair. The
paramedics arrived several minutes later and he was taken away on a
stretcher protesting all the while that he was fine. Locke watched this
then turned back to his work. He smiled for the first time since he had
started there.