Episode Report Card Jacob: A+ | 2 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT Agnus Dei
By Jacob | Season 2 | Episode 22 | Aired on 2001.01.26
The doors of the surgery burst open; Scorpius greets the Doctor under the green light. "So good to see you again." John's eyes grow wider; he begins to scream in gibberish. The Doctor squeals, grabbing at his mask. The horrified Doctor comes down off the platform and asks politely after Scorpius's cooling apparatus. "Just as functional as the day you installed it! Eternal thanks." The Doctor reaches out to close the door, quietly chiding Scorpius for disturbing the clean room. "I am so sorry to disturb the...sterility of your theatre, but...you no longer serve a purpose." John stares as Scorpius lifts the Doctor's mask and breathes a hiss into his nose and mouth; Tocot drops, another clean, kind story perverted. John watches, tied to the bed, silent, terrified.
"What irony. Sensitivity to heal anything but oneself," Scorpius chuckles. He tosses Tocot's mask to one side and circles the surgical platform. John screams wordless threats and curses, gibberish; embarrassed but unable to stop screaming. "Well, Crichton. So much to say...and yet, such little capacity." Scorpius steps up on the platform, past Crichton's right side, to the head of the table. John mutters gibberish, clear as hate, as he passes. Scorpius retrieves the jar with the chip, holding it up to his eye. "I only hope the wormhole technology I've waited so patiently for makes more sense." John rages against him, senseless and wild. "Don't need a translator microbe for that one, do we?" Scorpius says archly, and sighs. He leans over John's beautiful, twisted face. The things he would do, if he could move; the things he would say, if he could speak. "You've cost me much. And I do not suffer disappointment well." The rubber band holding John's forehead down: Scorpius places the tiny jar on this band. John stares at him, unable to move, unable to even speak. That rage, and hate, and fear; he shakes without moving.
"I condemn you, John Crichton...to live!" Scorpius smiles. "...That your thirst for unfulfilled revenge will consume you." He lifts the chip and grins as John glares up at him. Scorpius looks down, into his eyes. "Goodbye."
Scorpius turns and leaves, with his regiment and his leather and his Braca and his neurochip and his wormhole knowledge and his victory and his revenge and his plan. And John Crichton screams, unmoving. With nothing at all.