Ancillaries

These are bits of the story that didn't make it. The first one I cut because I felt like it. The rest have continuity flaws and aren't really edited for ease of reading or comprehension. I just wrote them and ran them through spell check.

.

.

.

.

.

And the moral of this story is…

.

.

Sam gained a lot of power when he married Sybil, enough to make a serious impact on the world if he chose to use it, but he knew that no amount of money could change how people thought. Sam had always been able to see the falsehoods in reality. He chose which lies are better followed than ignored, but never forgot they were lies.

All Sybil did was give him a chance to realize that he had complete power over himself. The bottle was just a bottle and the beast was just a beast.

He took control. He fought the titles, the feathers. He fought against unmerited authority. He fought for his own laws, for what he knew was right.

He would allow only the trusted to share his thoughts and to see into his heart. So when Captain Carrot saw him in that blue shawl with ducks on it, Sam didn't mind too much, because time and time again he had proven he could trust him with all that and more. Sally on the other hand was going to regret it.

.

.

.

Kick the dog... more

This is the original version. I had to change it because it caused too many problems no matter what I did. Now it doesn't make sense. I also didn't want to torture Vimes like this. There are already fics out there that describe brutal torture to characters and I didn't want this one to be like that. 'Looking Down' is about recovery and moving on, not the trauma itself. I wanted the story to be relatable to everyone. People fear things just as strongly even when it doesn't originate from something horrifyingly inhumane.

.

.

Sam left the bathroom in the blue robe that he had claimed as his own. It was fluffy and warm yet still had the absorbent power that gives a bathrobe purpose. Those silky dressing gowns just stuck on his skin and got in the way. He had to go find Sybil and explain to her why he had been so short with her in the garden. This wasn't going to be easy but she deserved to know. In the back of his heart, Sam wanted her to know.

"The sound of the springs. Even in my own bed I can hear them. Every night since then I would lie down in my bunk and hear the whine of those springs, a daily reminder of how worthless I am. I couldn't relax at night. My muscles were always tight as I lay perfectly still. If I moved at all, I would hear that noise. I would stay awake until I couldn't stand. Even passing out drunk in the street was better than sleeping in my bed. I was trash, subhuman, ashamed to sleep on a proper bed, afraid of what might happen if I heard the screech of coils again."

"In that room, the air suffocated me. The stench, I was dirty, covered in sweat and my own cum."

"At first it wasn't that bad. She just held me down and yelled at me. After that, I had to learn how to satisfy her without coming myself…" Sam went silent for a long time. He shivered and clutched Sybil. The next words were barely recognizable. "The next time she did it, she didn't give me a sonky."

"I tried so hard not to come inside her. No matter how many times I said no, my body still disobeyed me. She could make me hard even when I didn't want it. I was desperate, so much that I eagerly learned every technique she taught me in attempt to please her before I reached my breaking point. Even so, there were times that I failed."

"I could have a child out there somewhere growing up with that horrible woman and I don't even know its name or even if it's alive! There's even the possibility that it never existed at all."

"I was afraid. I tried to ignore it. I tried to forget, but I had to see her, to know. I wanted my child."

.

Possibilities:

.

"I went looking for her. Six months later I found her. She was skinny. She killed it."

"I went looking for her. I found her dead, my baby cold inside her.''

"I went looking for her. I never saw her again. I never found my baby."

.

.

.

Choosing to move the stars

This is the depressing story that I thought up while writing the previous depressing story. I cut it out because of how depressing it was and I really didn't want to pull that sort of thing out on my readers. I also couldn't bear to keep writing it. It would have fit well into the angst category though…

.

.

Sybil sobbed and her whole body shuddered. She held on to Sam with all her strength. She didn't even think that she might be hurting him. His voice had lost all emotion. It was as if he were giving a report on a crime scene. He was speaking of a different man who was murdered long ago, a man who should not have survived. Sybil felt him slipping away. His words made her believe that the man she loved had been dead all along, a ghost that she had tricked herself into thinking was real. Images of the last few years flashed through her head. In each one, Sam wasn't real. He was just a crazy hallucination dreamed up from her tacky romance novels. The sycophants in the aristocracy just went along with it because she was rich. They laughed behind her back not because she was marrying a common watchman, but because she planned an elaborate wedding for a man who didn't exist.

He always ran off during important events. He didn't like to be seen by her friends. She had imagined him to be weak so she would have control over him. She made him only use his fingers because she was just playing with herself. He cried for her when she wanted to cry. She made him run away because she couldn't take it. It was all an illusion, a lie that she had made herself believe the dream that there was anyone who cared for her and not her status.

The watch came around to her house just to check on the crazy dragon lady. They reported to him to keep her happy. They humored her because she had helped the economy by organizing a big wedding. No one wanted to tell her she was wrong because then they wouldn't get paid. It was all about money. It had always been like that. The man she loved had been dead for years. Maybe he had never existed at all.

"When I got away, I avoided getting at all close to women or anyone for that matter. Then I met you…"

No, he never got away. They never met. It was all in her head.

"Even though your presence trampled over my resolve and made me think of those awful memories, I couldn't ignore you. When you smiled at me for the first time, everything disappeared. For one tiny instance, all I could see was you. It was a split second of condensed happiness and hope. No amount of bearhuggers could even compare to the intoxicating feeling you gave me. The pain afterwards was excruciating, but you were worth it."

Sam lifted her head off his wet shoulder and looked into her crying eyes. His image waved in front of her like distortions in her mind. He was only an illusion, a mirage glimmering in the distance.

"That pain follows me even now. Being near you chokes me constantly, but I don't ever want to leave. Those moments of joy have been coming more frequently."

Sam wiped the tears out of her eyes so that she could see him clearly for the first time in years. She stared at him and cried.

Just a pillow, dirty and worn.

Sybil held him tightly and tried to forget what deep down she had always known. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled back into the dream.

"I love you," he whispered.

.

.

.

When Carrot was made a captain, he visited Sybil and declared that 'Samuel Vimes' had been promoted. She was so happy. Now she would be a duchess. Carrot knew it was a cruel thing to do, but he couldn't tell her the truth. He felt responsible now that he had taken the position. He wanted to keep coming to see her. He liked how she always smiled when he made his reports to 'Captain Vimes.'

When she was taken to Uberwald, Carrot chased her. He didn't tell her the real reason why she had been escorted there. He simply said that he was following the one he loved. He let her fill in the blanks by herself. He always liked how her stories clicked into place with real events. Sometimes he could almost forget that they didn't happen. He wanted to be part of her world. He wanted her to see him and smile like she did for 'Samuel Vimes.'

In his heart, he knew it would never happen.

.

.

.

The woman

I took care to dehumanize Sam's attacker while keeping her realistic. I never described how she looked. I never gave her dialogue. The aggressive thoughts in Sam's head are not quotes but rather Sam's lies opposing him. I wanted the woman to come out as similar to Teatime in that she had no remorse and an almost childlike mentality but more motivated by anger. Her anger isn't just from her sister's death.

I couldn't send Sam on a quest for vengeance. I didn't want to give her any remaining power over him. Revenge would keep her alive in Sam's mind. She would become a target, a goal to strive towards. She would stay in his life and I just couldn't do such a mean thing to him.

.

.

.