#;truthexcerpts

[sometimesraven]

Inciting Events

Whumptober No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Fandom: The Truth Saga (Original Novel) POV Character: Lydia Moore Whumpee: Lydia

Many years before the events of Reckless Truth, there was an eighteen year old at her lowest point. Fate had other things in store for her than the hospital bed she lay on, however.

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She woke up. Great -- already a bad sign for how her day was going to go.

Or was it her night? As the fog in Lydia's mind slowly cleared in favour of a dizzy, aching headache, she realised with a sinking heart where she was.

Dad was asleep in the chair beside her bed, shadowed by the dim light of the hospital at night. He looked dishevelled, like he'd held on to consciousness for as long as he possibly could. Flashes of his desperately frightened eyes assaulted her memory; the feeling of being cradled on the bathroom floor. She didn't wake him. She didn't want to be having that conversation right now.

Her wrist felt tight, sore when she moved. The fresh stitches were ugly; a reminder of yet another of her long list of failures.

Did Elyan know about this? Probably not. She doubted he knew anything about the outside world while they had him in psych. Good. He couldn't handle something like this -- hopefully he wouldn't see her when she ended up there too.

I'm so sorry, I-I've been lying to you.

Lydia glared up at the ceiling, her father's words coming to her in the same muffled haze they had while they waited for the ambulance.

Your brother is right. Josh was-.. he was taken. There was no car crash, princess I'm so sorry-..

Her hands closed into fists, ignoring the uncomfortable pulling and stinging it caused in her wrist. Her whole life, she'd been lied to. Elyan had been lied to. She should have listened to her big brother. Josh had been kidnapped and nobody was doing anything, this whole time. Only Elyan even tried and they made him think he was crazy. Fuck, she needed a drink.

"It's a difficult thing to believe." A new voice. One of the nurses? Lydia blinked the tears out of her eyes, frowning at the man who came into focus. This wasn't a nurse. The young man was dressed more like the police or military or something-- shit, were they taking her to psych already? "That your brother was taken by paranormal military forces."

"How d'you know about that?"

The man smiled, and there was something dull behind his eyes -- like he wasn't quite present; just a vessel for something more. But that was fucking ridiculous, so Lydia chalked it up to the meds she was on and continued to glare at him.

"Let's just say there are parties invested in your situation. I can help, if you're willing."

Every instinct in her gut told her to hit the alarm and scream. But the man's smile was patient; almost sympathetic, and nobody else had helped her family for the past fourteen years. What did she really have to lose? "How?"

"You will work for us. We will provide you with funding and equipment to travel and learn. You will be given training in assault weaponry and close combat."

So she could go looking for him... "What's the catch?"

"You will be working as an arms dealer and gun for hire. This means you will lean to kill. We have many private contacts in need of our services, and you will provide."

Shit. Killing people for money. Lydia glanced at dad -- still sound asleep like not even the dead could wake him. He wouldn't be happy if he ever found out. She'd have to leave home, probably. Would she tell Elyan, when he got out of hospital? Maybe. He deserved to know she believed him now, at least.

For a moment, she almost wondered if she could handle this -- if she was cut out for it. But what else was she really good at? School wouldn't have her. She couldn't write to save her life. No qualifications. She spent what time she did spend at school getting in fights and drinking behind the bike shed. She didn't even have to look after Ely anymore. What else was she really good at, beyond violence? And if this gave her a chance to find and save the brother she never knew, whose loss tore her family apart before she was old enough to know it...

"I'll do it."

The smile he gave told her this may have been a mistake. "Excellent. We'll be in touch. Oh, and-.. Don't worry about this little... mishap." He gestured to her in the bed, eyes somehow free of judgement and judgemental at the same time. "It's taken care of. You'll be released as soon as possible, and then we can begin."

Three years later, Lydia swiped the blood from her top lip, rolling her eyes as it immediately dripped into her mouth again. Elyan sat quietly, blood on his hands -- shell-shocked. His first kill, to save her life. She'd have to take care of him for a while, probably. Just like old times. Sometimes she wondered if this was worth it. They still had no answers, and Elyan was suffering for it.

Still, she was in too deep now. If she was no good for anything before, she had no chance now. For better or worse, Lydia was a killer now, and Elyan was too deep into his indie-detective work to quit now. Neither of them would find a regular job after this.

So, with a grunt, she stowed her gun and dragged her brother to his feet, guiding him out in silence.

She didn't see the flash as the bodies she left behind were transported away, nor the scorch marks they left behind in the blood-soaked fabric of the rug.

[sometimesraven]

you get 13 uwu

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