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infamoussparks · 5 months ago

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Chapter 8: Reunions & Relationships

Approx. 4700 words; 30 minute read

He recalled the conversation and found it to be strange, especially paired with Lucky giving him this paper. Benji suddenly had the realization that this could be one of Celia’s doves and he swallowed his worry that Lucky was working with Celia. Her name hadn’t come up in the conversation between Makayla and the others in the office, but this dove couldn’t simply be a coincidence, right?

“... the hell, Umbra? I told you a full blackout!”

“Fetch, I did exactly that. But you heard her! She was having a panic attack. I couldn’t just leave her like that.”

“I don’t care if she was having a baby, you need to follow instructions.”

Makayla groaned softly as the arguing voices started to come in clear within the small room. Both of the voices immediately halted and Makayla struggled to open her eyes. Once fluttered open, the bright lights within the sterile white room were grating on her nerves. She didn’t even try to move her limbs, just turned her head to the side to take in both Fetch and Benji standing over her bed.

“... Hey, losers.” Makayla smirked and then winced. Pain flared at her core. Fetch frowned unimpressed and Benji looked Makayla over before clearing his throat.

“Makayla?” Benji spoke cautiously as though afraid to cause her more pain with his voice alone.

Makayla forced a single laugh, “I’m not gonna break.”

“She’s fine. Clearly.” Fetch rolled her eyes, shifting her weight to her opposite hip and crossing her arms over her chest. She looked absolutely pissed.

Makayla was tickled pink internally. Good. Let the neon punk be annoyed by her. She enjoyed knowing she was under Fetch’s skin. Makayla went to move her arms and realized she was cuffed to the side of the medical bed.

“You think these will hold me?”

Benji sighed, “No one is holding you here, we just have some questions for you.”

“I’m holding her here. I’ll be honest,” Fetch barked.

“Fetch.” A fourth voice cautioned. Delsin entered the already cramped space. Fetch rolled her eyes and pouted. Makayla felt herself mimic the same expression herself. Delsin turned his focus to the bed, “So… Makayla Grayson, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me. What else did Benji tell you?”

Benji interjected, “Nothing, just your name, honest. I haven’t seen you in years.”

Makayla sighed, “Yeah, well you dropped out. So did I. College wasn’t working for me.”

Delsin glanced between the two, “You went to college together?”

“Had one class together, but we were in different years.” Benji confirmed.

“Interesting,” Delsin seemed as though that was something newsworthy. “Makayla, you’re working for Celia?”

Makayla laughed, “Not for her, just with her. I liked the promise she offered.”

“... Which is?” Delsin prodded.

“Freedom.”

“Same ol’ song and dance from Doves. Let’s lock her up and figure out next steps.” Fetch sounded impatient.

Delsin gave her that look. Oh, boy. Fetch was in trouble and Makayla loved to see it. She smiled to herself. “Fetch, meet me in the office.”

“Fine. I’m bored of babysitting anyway.” Fetch flipped Makayla off as she turned to leave the room. Makayla returned the gesture with a loud clanking of handcuffs against metal.

“Makayla, listen,” Delsin sighed and spoke a little softer, a little kinder, “We need as much information as you can give us on Celia and her plans. I don’t want to hold you here and I’ll let Benji uncuff you. But if you can help us, I’d appreciate it.”

“Why?” Makayla insisted, “Why should I help you?”

“Because we can give you freedom, too. The right way. You’d have safety here and a place to train and you clearly have friends here already. Just… think it over, yeah?”

Makayla looked from Delsin to Benji and back to the beanie-wearing man before offering a small nod. Maybe Celia’s version of freedom was a bit skewed to being more like a personal vendetta than an actual, attainable goal.

“How long do I have? To think it over?”

“A few days. Benji, here,” Delsin tossed a set of keys to Benji and he caught them easily with his left hand. “Let her free in a minute. I gotta make sure Fetch is in the office.” Then Delsin left.

Makayla was alone with Benji and while she didn��t consider them “friends” she knew Benji had vouched for her and tried to help her, even if the darkness was his fault.

“How long?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“For what?”

“Since you’ve been a conduit? One of us?”

“Oh,” Makayla turned her attention to the ceiling, “Four years.”

“So, you knew while we were in school?”

“Yeah. But you can’t fault me. You never said anything about your powers, either.” Makayla snapped back. Benji looked hurt but he approached her side and started unlocking the cuffs as promised.

“We’re good here. I mean, I think you’d like it here. No one forces you to use your powers if you don’t want to. And I’ve really learned about a deeper level of control,” Benji spoke softly, a kindness mixed with his words, “Not that you don’t have control, just that… it’s an option.”

Makayla rubbed her newly freed wrists and sat up carefully, already feeling a lot better. She checked her stomach and saw only a smudge of scar tissue that was already fading.

“You didn’t have to save me back there, you know.”

“I couldn’t stop myself. You were–I was so worried about you.” Makayla could see the honesty in his eyes and for a moment they reminded her of Cassidy’s eyes. Her best friend. Her ride-or-die. Her would-be girlfriend, if the accident hadn’t happened. She pulled her attention back to her hands and blinked away the tears that seemed to suddenly be tugging at her eyes.

“I don’t know what they want from me here. At least with Celia I just do what I’m told and even then I’m pretty shitty at that, too. But here? Fetch wants me dead and Delsin doesn’t seem too keen about allowing me to stay…” Makayla took a breath and looked at Benji again, “I have no place to go if I don’t go back to Celia. And I’m not sure what will happen if I do. I failed.”

“Then just stay here. I promise they’ll come around.”

“And if they don’t? Then I’m back out on the streets. Alone.”

Benji gave her a quizzical look, “Listen to me, Mak. Pleas—“

Makayla snapped, “You don’t get to call me that! Ever! There's only one person who can call me that and it isn’t you.”

“I’m sorry. Makayla, please listen to me. I’m not your enemy here.”

“You’re not my remedy, either.”

Benji took a step back and composed himself in silence. Makayla sighed loudly, the rush of air messing up her fringe in a gust before the black and neon green strands fell back into place over her forehead.

She started again, “I’m sorry, that was… Listen, I’m just nervous. I only know you here and you can’t vouch for me forever. Plus, I dunno if you know this about me but I’m kinda on everyone’s hit list here.”

Benji laughed, the sound breaking the awkward nerves in the room, “No shit, really?”

Makayla twisted and threw her pillow at him. Benji caught it an inch from his face.

“Listen, I don’t need saving but I’ll help as much as I can. Celia is acting really weird lately and assigning what should be my missions to Orion. It’s not fair and something is up.”

“Let’s get you settled in and then I’ll tag along when you go to talk to Delsin and Fetch about everything, deal?”

“Deal.” Makayla smiled and suddenly felt relieved, like she had been holding her breath and finally surfaced. It was a weird feeling for her, but something told her she could relax here. Maybe she could even trust someone other than herself for once.

“Remember to breathe, Dr. Hutch.”

The lessons were hard but Rosaline was pushing herself anyway. For Caly, she reminded herself. For Caly.

Originally Eugene had tried running a few simulations with her using his power to project holograms, but these didn’t seem to work with Rosaline’s magnification abilities. It was hard to unlock a more mental-focused power with something that demanded a more physical approach. But after a few more tries, Eugene had an idea and phoned a friend. It took a bit for them to arrive but when they entered the training arena Rosaline instantly felt a wave of calm and encouragement from them and now they were sitting cross-legged on the floor facing one another.

“Please, call me Rosaline,” Rosaline concentrated on her breathing as instructed, “Like in yoga class… I’m finding my center.”

Her teacher reached out and touched her hand, “Stop that. This isn’t yoga. I want you to focus on connecting yourself to your power, not your center.”

Rosaline took a deep breath and pulled her long, red hair into a messy bun atop her head, which nearly matched the size of the pink bun her teacher had atop theirs. They spoke like they’d taught people how to really connect to their powers all their lives, but something creeped into the back of her mind, like that was a lie or a façade somehow. Like maybe this was just how they taught themselves. And maybe that was enough. Rosaline didn’t need to see transcripts or a list of names of successful students, she just needed to make this work. For herself. For Caly.

“Okay, Garrett. Let me try it again.”

Eugene sent an email. Another call for help. At first it bothered him to have to rely on others for help when he was a powerful conduit with connections, to boot. But it was these connections that were a boone to his power, not a fault of it. So now Eugene reached out unabashedly and continued to work while waiting on responses.

This response came at lighting speed. As expected. Childe was one with the Internet, after all.

They seemed happy to help and Eugene toasted his half-empty cup of coffee to them from his side of the computer screen.

“I just need to attack this from both sides. If we can crack this database wide open we’ll be saving a lot of conduits. I have a feeling Stratego may have additional facilities that we simply don’t know about yet.” SEND.

The reply came quickly. {I’m on it. I’ll be in touch.}

“I’ll drink a coffee for you, Childe. Thanks so much.” SEND.

{LOL! Thank you.}

With this being worked on, Eugene finally felt like he was making big strides instead of banging his head against the wall. Amazing what a small breakthrough, some powerful conduits and a few cups of coffee could accomplish.

The meeting between Makayla and the Heroes went better than Benji was expecting. Fetch had seemed annoyed at first, but as she was taking in what Makayla offered, she started asking more questions and by the end of the meeting seemed to be a little more amicable toward the toxin user. Benji was pleased.

Now, Benji was alone in his dorm which felt odd after spending so much time with Caly in here. He was sort of at a loss on what to do with the silence… video games? Art? Homework? Nah, not homework. But his eyes landed on his desk anyway and zoned into the folded paper he had left there. The one from Lucky.

He picked it up from his desk and turned it over in his hands. It was an origami dove and he wondered if maybe Lucky needed help afterall.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“I’m better now, thanks. Take care of Caly. Good luck, Benji.”

Benji was flicking at the folds of the paper when something told him to unfold the dove and he pulled it apart carefully. Inside on the paper was the following message:

Grasp your FREEDOM, now Consider this your invite Accept your calling

“Oh,” Benji whispered to himself after reading the note, “I need Makayla to tell me where to go… I need to warn Lucky about Celia.” And he started tossing things into an old backpack. This was his hero’s calling, he could feel it in his bones.

“Benji? What are you doing here?” Lucky spun around running to Benji with a look of concern on her face. She grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him back into the shadows away from the entrance of the abandoned train yard. Benji thought she’d be happy to see him but her actions spoke louder than words.

“Are you safe? I unfolded the origami you gave me and I came as soon as I knew where to find you.”

Lucky gave him a puzzled look and moved her hand from his wrist to interlacing her fingers with his. Benji felt his cheeks warm and was thankful for the shadows for once in his life.

“Are you okay? Is Caly?”

“Yeah, Caly is fine. I’m fine,” Benji was trying to read her. Something seemed off but he couldn’t figure it out yet. It didn’t help that her hand felt warm in his and it was throwing his senses off. No one ever held his hand. This was new to him and it was really nice.

Benji shook himself to pull himself together, “Listen, Lucky. You may be in danger. That origami dove you gave me? It was one of Celia's, right?”

Lucky furrowed her brow, “Yeah, how did you kn–”

“Celia is using you for some self-important job. She’s going to hurt you once she no longer needs you,” Benji cut in, “You need to get out. Now.”

Lucky’s eyes searched his face. Benji wasn’t sure if she was finding what she needed or not. He just hoped she believed him.

“It may be too late for that. But you shouldn’t be here. If she sees you here…” Lucky’s voice drifted off and she quickly glanced over her shoulder as if she heard something he missed. “Good luck, Benji. You need to leave.”

Benji felt a rush of… something. Like a splash of water in his face. It was a strange sensation and he realized he had felt this once before with Lucky. She went to drop his hand and he grabbed her hand back quickly, holding it between both of his hands now. He was searching her face now and she looked slightly terrified.

“I’m not leaving you here. Come back with me,” His voice was a hushed whisper. He was begging her.

Lucky seemed to hesitate for a moment. It gave Benji a surge of hope. But then she glanced at their hands and she gently pulled hers away again, “I wish I could. I have to stay. For now.”

“Is she hurting you?”

Lucky seemed caught off guard by that assumption, “What? No. I mean, I can leave soon. I’ll find you again, I promise.”

Benji shook his head. He was not accepting this weird flow of words from Lucky. Something was clearly wrong and he decided to stay. What did Fetch tell him? Sometimes you gotta trust your instincts and choose the lesser evil. Let’s hope she wasn’t wrong.

“I’m staying with you, then. I want to see what Celia has planned for myself.”

“Benji I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Lucky started but noticed Benji seemed to have made up his mind. She sighed, “Keep your power hidden but ready. Something is changing and I’m getting nervous.”

Benji nodded as Lucky took his hand again and led him into the tunnel that held their small cohort of a team and Celia’s hidden base for Operation Freedom.

The knocking was loud. Then louder still.

“C’mon, Benji! Open up! I know you’re skipping class,” Fetch’s voice was muffled beyond the dorm door. “I’m letting myself in on the count of three.”

Fetch counted as she found the key she needed and then she unlocked the door to Benji’s room. She was hoping the conduit was just asleep since he was now off babysitting duty and had just used a massive amount of power at her behest. So, when Fetch opened the door and found the room all but empty, she was very, very confused.

And then she noticed something on Benji’s empty desk. A piece of paper that had familiar folded lines which had been smoothed out.

Fetch entered the room and picked up the paper, reading the message inside before fisting it with anger that all but set her neon ablaze. She left his dorm room, closing the door behind her but leaving it unlocked and headed not back to the office, but to another dorm down an opposite hall.

Another loud knocking on a closed door but this one was quickly answered.

“Yeah, yeah, what do you wa–oh, Fetch.” Makayla raised a single eyebrow while standing in her doorway.

“We have a problem that I think you can help with,” Fetch held up the scrunched paper in her fist and Makayla looked from it to Fetch’s face before nodding quietly. “Meet me in the office, now.”

Delsin and Eugene were already in the office planning lessons for the upcoming semester when Fetch crashed that party with Makayla in tow. She stormed to the desk and slapped the paper down on the wood.

“We have a big problem. Benji is gone.”

“Gone?” Delsin read the paper and then looked to Fetch and passed the paper to Eugene to read over as well.

Makayla sat carefully on the armrest of the couch, as though she may need to bolt from the room at a second’s notice, “He’s with Celia. I know where her base is.”

“We are not going to her base. It would be like walking into a trap,” Delsin strategized.

“Smart. I see why people call you the ‘Hero of Seattle’,” Makayla seemed to relax a bit on her perch.

Delsin nodded and then leaned into her bubble, “That’s why you’re going instead.”

Sweat beaded along her forehead as Lucky pushed her abilities and dodged an attack aimed at her head. She had been standing still with her eyes closed, tapping into her luck and relying upon it to guide her actions. It wasn’t a perfect dance, not yet anyway. But Lucky was determined to fine-tune this new skill.

“Too slow!” Her brother’s voice shouted from someplace in front of her, a noise like a razor upon glass alerted her to a new barrage of his mirror shards flying her way. Lucky dove left but as predicted, she was a second too slow and one shard sliced into her calf.

Lucky cursed under her breath, rolling until she sat up and could check the damage. It wasn’t a deep cut but she still frowned at being cut at all.

Orion approached her and stood over her, hands resting on his hips. “I told you to just fight me normally. This whole pushing your luck is going nowhere.”

“Stop being such an ass about this, Orion. I really want to try this. I think I can make it work somehow,” Lucky reached up to him and Orion grabbed her wrist to pull her to her feet while rolling his eyes.

The pain was sharp and sudden. Lucky gasped and glanced down seeing a shard driven up and under her ribcage. She blanched and stumbled forward into Orion’s arms. He held her gently, whispering into her ear.

“You trust too easily, sister. You need to build your pain tolerance before you try new tricks.”

“... Orion… Why?” She inhaled and held her breath, her fingers finding the shard before she wrapped her hand around it and yanked it from her skin. The pain caused tears to escape from the corners of her eyes and she pressed her bloodied palm to the wound as the shard fell to the grass at her feet.

Orion pushed her away from his embrace and ran his index finger under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Anger looks good on you, Lucky. Ready to fight me now?”

Lucky narrowed her eyes, forcing celestial light into her hands. The one over her wound flared with pain as she focused on cauterizing the wound with the heat. She flicked her free hand upward to latch around Orion’s wrist, the burn registering as pain flashed across his features. Lucky smirked internally knowing she had bested her brother for a moment.

Orion yanked his arm from her grasp and immediately summoned more mirror shards to his aid with a flash of golden crescents flickering in his eyes. The shards flew like arrows loosed from an invisible bow and Lucky dodged them all gracefully.

While Orion pulled more shards from thin air, Lucky forced celestial light in his direction. It flew like a thrown sparkler, sparks flying and her aim true. As it reached close enough to Orion, Lucky clapped her hands together and the sparks of light exploded in his face. She was quickly disappointed as the smoke cleared and her brother appeared from behind a mirror shield he crafted to protect his face.

Lucky scowled but then she was hit with sudden dizziness and her steps faltered. A glance down told her the stab wound was still bleeding and that this mini skirmish needed to quit while it was just between the siblings.

Benji caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.

“Lucky!” He was looking her over quickly and then his eyes started fading into this blue-gray color and Lucky reached up one hand and cradled his cheek. Her touch canceled his call to his power and he looked back down at her.

“I’m fine. Don’t hurt him.”

“But he hurt you.”

“And I’ll do it again if she wimps out with our next sparring session,” Orion cut in standing before them both. His arm was sporting a burn mark in the shape of her hand and his face looked marked by small dots of burns. So she had hurt him with her attack. Lucky smiled to herself. “I’m leaving. Let Celia know I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“What? Where are you going?” Benji shouted after him as Orion turned and started walking toward the city.

“To the bar. I’m hunting for trouble.”

“I hope it eats you alive, brother,” Lucky called after him and then she moved to sit in the grass, leaning back against her hands to relieve some pressure from her wound. Orion scoffed and waved but never looked back.

Benji dropped to sit next to Lucky, his eyes still darting from her face to her wound. He looked concerned for her and she gave him a soft smile.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“You aren’t healing?”

“Oh… Yeah. About that,” She shifted a bit and winced just a smidge, “My power is luck-based and that’s pretty rare to drain. So healing is a slower process for me. I will heal, it just takes a little longer than most other conduits.”

Benji frowned a little at that but then sighed softly, “What can I do to help?”

Lucky gave him her full attention and for a moment said nothing at all. No one had ever offered to help her before. No one had ever seemed to care. She searched Benji’s eyes but only found genuine kindness. Her heart fluttered for a moment in her chest.

“Stay with me?” He’ll get hurt if he stays, Lucky thought to herself, But he isn’t going to want to leave you, not like this.

Benji just nodded and scooted closer to her on the grass, “Yeah, sure. I’m here, Lucky.”

“Thanks, Benji.”

The bar was a loud, public place with a thin haze from cigarettes and cigars lingering in the air. By the time Orion pushed through the doorway and approached the bar his face was fully healed and the mark on his arm had faded to a shadow of color. He asked for something strong and smooth and let the bartender work their human magic on a drink that met his requirements. He took a long sip from it before taking a moment to look around him and start to narrow in on a target.

A lot of people were keeping to themselves at the bar, or enjoying the company of friends at the few tables scattered throughout. A few people seemed to be running on liquid courage, while alone with a potential partner for the evening. But as Orion took another long sip from his glass, ruckus laughter pulled his focus and he narrowed his eyes at a man with a slight build and blonde, spiky hair. The man was not alone and he demanded an audience. Orion felt his pulse rise with the thought of stealing that attention for himself.

“... tell us about your new boyfriend, Luca…”

Orion smirked and finished his drink, slamming the glass on the bar before leaving his spot and heading for the blonde, a single, overheard name whispered under his breath, “Luca.”

The goal was simple: Push. If this guy was a conduit, push harder. Orion was looking for a fight and starting one in this crowded bar would be easy for him. A necessary release of anger, energy and power. He wanted to feel something tonight and either Orion would get his ass handed to him, or he’d get what he wanted–it was simply up to the tipsy, laughing blonde that was in his sights.

The night would be a smashing success either way.

“What do you mean?” Benji asked Lucky curiously. The two had been up all night talking and the sunlight was beginning to creep into the space they were sharing within the abandoned train yard building. It had been easy to talk with Lucky about anything and Lucky seemed to enjoy his company, so he stayed. Benji was also sticking by in case her unpredictable brother came in and decided round two of fight club would start before Lucky was fully healed.

“I mean, I think something is going on between Celia and my brother. Orion has been really combative with me for a few days now and just the other day Celia gave him a ‘secret mission’.” Lucky put the words in air quotes, “I’m starting to suspect Celia has it out for me somehow.”

“You should come back with me. I’ll protect you,” Benji took Lucky’s hands in his own, “I mean, the warehouse will take you in. We have Makayla healing there now.”

Lucky gave him a quizzical look, her brows furrowed in a way that read as her trying to understand what he had just told her. “Makayla is staying at the warehouse?”

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, “At least, I hope so. She seemed like she was done with Celia’s bullshit and now hearing a similar story from you… I think you may be in trouble if you stay here.”

Lucky held his gaze and Benji felt a strange pull toward her. The way the sunlight was playing off her light skin and catching on her dark eyelashes… He shook his head slightly to shake off whatever was washing over him at the moment.

“Okay.” Lucky gave him a curt nod.

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there. As soon as I know my brother is back here safely, I’ll sneak out and find you.”

Benji tilted his head slightly and gave her a slight frown, “Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m not,” Lucky quickly answered, “I’m protecting you. You need time to get back to the warehouse and let them know that something big is coming and it’s going to get bad. If I’m right, Celia is priming Orion to fight by her side and knowing him as well as I do, well, he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants out of this.”

“What does he want?”

“Control and power.” Lucky answered. “All of it.”

#infamous second son #infamous fic #infamous sparks #delsin rowe #eugene sims #fetch walker #infamous oc #benji duncan #doctor rosaline hutch #makayla grayson #lucky stella #orion stella #shoutout to other infamous ocs #do you recognize anyone else mentioned

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kingbob2-0 · 11 months ago

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finally updated my fic, “on little cat feet”, after five million years of trying to write, and I figured I’d link it here

if anyone would like a story about Desmond miles getting turned into a cat and ending up in Seattle during the events of infamous:second son, check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40643007/chapters/101831541

#It Will eventually end up as DesDel #So if ur not into that #Here’s your heads up #Hopefully the link works #I’m not good with technology #It won’t be the best written fic ever #But it’s one of my first #And u only get better with practice #Desmond miles #delsin rowe #infamous second son #assassin's creed

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depressed-sock · 2 years ago

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Desmond Miles as a Solar Conduit in Esma’s story Solar Maximum

#desmond miles #fanart #fanart of fanfic #Assassin's Creed #digital art #my art #digital drawing #delsin rowe #I forget which fic i read that gave Desmond long curly hair but it's now embedded into my brain #eyestrain

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rogueshadeaux · 1 year ago

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Chapter Twenty-Four — Burden Borne

How much bloodshed? How many people would have to die so their graves could be the foundation of peace? How many more was I supposed to be able to stomach, to see as permissible? Why was there a fucking allowed amount in the first place?

4.7k words | 16 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death, injuries, natural disaster, murder, testing condoned by the US Government

“We’ll call you with results as soon as we get them,” the doctor said as the nurse rushed off with the skin biopsy. Dr. Sims nodded, thanking her for her time as she finished dressing another new set of stitches and snapping off thick surgery gloves, disappearing past the curtain and out the door.

Dad was pacing now, his shadow casting across the floor again and again as he passed by the open window. Brent was in his chair, steering clear of his stomps lest he wished to be bulldozed over. Dr. Sims double checked the new set of stitches on my leg, shaking his head slightly.

No one would talk, and I think that’s what scared me the most about this. I’d just found out Augustine had some mystery power when we fought, something Dad and Dr. Sims weren’t even familiar with, and no one would say anything! It felt like I was attending my own wake, like my fate was already out of my hands.

Dad was the first to break. “You ever heard of anything like this?” He asked Dr. Sims.

Dr. Sims stood, helping me cover my leg back up with the blanket. “A power that can negate someone’s healing? No.”

Dad went right back to pacing. “I didn’t even know tar could be a power,” he muttered.

“I’ve…heard rumors,” Dr. Sims said, moving back to his computer and scrolling through it a bit. “But nothing like this.”

“What do we do?” Dad demanded.

I could see how Dr. Sims tensed even with his back turned, how he hesitated for a moment before saying to Dad, “I want to get samples before jumping to any conclusions. I know someone who could help, but not without that tar.”

Dad glanced over at me — only for a moment, though. It seemed like he couldn’t stomach looking at me for too long. “I can’t go right now,” He said pointedly.

Dr. Sims logged out of the mini-laptop and closed in, turning in place. “I’ll go back to Salmon Bay, see if I can find anything.” He was already shrugging on his jacket by the time Dad agreed. “I’ll call you if the doctors get back to me before I return,”

Dr. Sims then turned to regard both Brent and I. “If either of you can think of anything else, tell your father.”

He left on hurried goodbyes, leaving the three of us in an awkward and tense silence.

Dad wouldn’t stop pacing, and Brent refused to look me in the eye. Both seemed angry, though I wasn’t really sure why — well, no, I knew why Brent was. He was up in arms because I had the gall to give a fuck about him enough to try and keep Augustine from making him malleable. All I knew was I couldn’t stand being in the room much longer. “Dad?”

He only hummed in response. “D’you think it’s okay if I take that bath?”

I got final confirmation from the doctor that it was okay so long as I didn’t get that hole in my neck wet, and left the two of them to ruminate on their issues, giving myself the time to worry about my own.

I wasn’t prepared to face my reflection and see that’s what I looked like. I felt like I was more bandage and bruise than human; so many parts of my skin lit up blue, like I rolled around in spilled ink. My back was steeped in iodine and littered with black stitches, the skin around the slice on my side was bright red. My neck was even a little bit swollen on the left of it where that ball of concrete hit it. I couldn’t stomach looking at myself for long. It was just another reminder of how wrong everything was.

The shallow water soothed my aches, thank god, but all that did was clear up enough room for my nerves to take hold. All I could think about was my fear. Why wouldn’t I heal, what was wrong with me? The water slid off of my legs with a laze to it, my powers working against gravity. It reminded me of that dress of water in my…dream? Hallucination? Purgatory? I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to know, because that’d be some confirmation of whether Mom was real or not. I wanted her to be real, I wanted her to be there — but that’d also mean something would have to happen to me if I was to ever meet her again. And now that I was a broken Conduit…

It felt like too much of a possibility, returning to her.

But fuck, I’d give anything to make that hug real. To make those reassurances real. I just wanted my Mom, was that so bad? I just needed someone to tell me things were going to be okay.

I broke down thinking about how gentle she was, how I missed out on a lifetime of that. Hallucination or not, I was homesick for a place I couldn’t return to.

I didn’t come back out of the bathroom for an hour, but it didn’t matter — neither of them changed places. Dad was still as a statue now, leaned against the wall and looking out of the window at Seattle, but otherwise nothing changed.

Well, that wasn’t true. The television program ended to show the mid-morning news, and I froze in the middle of braiding my hair to look at what was on it.

Elliott Bay was flooded, boats misplaced and docks completely shredded, the roofs of some shacks at the ends of piers floating freely in the flood. There were flashes of businesses partially underwater in West Seattle, of people in Queen Anne sitting atop their roofs waiting to be rescued. Downtown wasn’t spared; the base of the Space Needle was a pool, a few unlucky people in hi-vis coats wading through the polluted murk. The stream cut to a simulated chart of the flooding, captioned Christmas Eve Tsunami 2036.

“What happened?” I asked, moving towards the wall the television was mounted on. Slowly, as the ache was already permeating my body again. I might have to live in water just to make it through this healing process painlessly. I finished buttoning the spare soft flannel Dad gave me in place of a pajama shirt, staring at the simulation as ten foot tall waters overtook the map.

Dad cursed behind me, and before I knew it, the television was off, him holding the wired remote like it was an IED. He looked at me, bug-eyed, and said, “Jean—”

Why was he so freaked out? “Was there a tsunami?” I asked, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. The west was littered with fault lines, there were three in the Portland area alone — was there an actual, big earthquake this time? Did it flood Seattle?

Brent was white as a ghost when I glanced back at him, making me pause. “Did…did someone get hurt?” I asked. Tsunamis can go both ways, right? Did the reservation get flooded?

They both stayed looking at me like that, like they expected me to break, and I could feel realization settle into the ache between my shoulder blades as I thought about Christmas Eve. About how the last thing I did was summon a huge wave to wipe Augustine and the Archangel soldiers off of the earth. I wasn’t there to pull it back like I did the whirlpool, to control how the tides would fall.

Oh God. There was no earthquake, otherwise the news would have said so. There was just a tsunami, and I had an idea where it came from. “Did…” I choked out. “Did I…”

Dad slowly laid the remote back on the bed. “It’s not your fault,” He began, confirming everything I needed to know. Everything except one thing.

“How many people died?” I whispered.

Dad shook his head lightly. “Jeanie—”

I was already starting for the remote before he could say more, but he didn’t fight to stop me. Guess he knew I was going to find out regardless, and decided it’d be better to deal with the fallout than the fight.

I didn’t need to turn the volume high. I didn’t even really need to try and search for the answer; it was there clear as day on the screen, 134 CONFIRMED DEAD, Over 3,000 INJURED.

One hundred and thirty four dead.

“No,” I muttered, my uninjured hand shooting to my mouth. Oh my god, I did this. I killed all these people before Christmas. “No, no, no.”

I didn’t feel the ground rushing towards me until Brent snatched me from the air, his hold pressing into my injured side and making me yelp. None of that mattered. I deserved every bit of pain, I deserved to hurt. I didn’t deserve for Brent to catch me from my collapse and help lower me to the ground as I began sobbing, nor did I deserve Dad coming around the bed to take me from his arms. How was I supposed to act like being treated well was okay when over a hundred people were dead from what I’ve done?

I was deaf to Dad’s reassurances, barely able to see his figure past the blur of my tears — his figure on the television, I mean. There was layman footage of him pulling back a wave, just enough to make the rush an ebb before disappearing into the water again.

The only reason people were alive was because of Dad. The only reason I was, was because of Dad. How much more reckless was I going to get? “I killed those people,” I whispered, aghast.

“Jean, you weren’t there, you were gone before—“ Dad started, but I cut him off with my head shaking.

“No, no.” I sobbed.

“This isn’t your fault—“

“Stop lying to me!” I demanded on a screech that sounded inhuman. I couldn’t do this anymore! My entire life was a fucking lie, he didn’t tell me the truth when I asked what happened to Mom’s brother — I couldn’t stomach another something sugared in half-truths to help me swallow it down. He hadn’t even told me about this, and he had time to!

It was my water, my tsunami, that did this. “I did this,” I sobbed.

Was this what Augustine was trying to protect Mom from? Feeling like she was a monster because of what her powers could do?

I watched the sun set over a distressed city, all cried out. The flooding seemed to have receded mostly, if that segment was to be believed, but that didn’t mitigate the damage. The destroyed homes, the destroyed lives. My power could kill so easily, and I didn’t even stop to care about anyone else when I was freezing.

I didn’t think at all. That was the issue — I didn’t think.

“—anything, Jean?” Dad’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Hm?” I hummed, looking up. Dad and Brent were standing in the middle of some kind of delegation, Dad with his coat on.

“I said: did you want anything from the cafeteria downstairs?” Dad repeated.

I just shook my head, looking back out the window. How the hell was I supposed to eat when my stomach felt like this?

There was some more muttering but none of it really reached my ears. Footsteps, the door closing—

And then someone sitting on my bed.

I looked over to Dad just as he finished taking off his coat, and asked, “Where’s Brent?”

“Figured he could get his own food,” Dad shrugged, tossing his coat onto the seat of the chair. “Wanted to talk to you, too.”

Oh, great.

I dropped my eyes, raising my one hand to meet my other so I could pick at the PICC. “Jean,” he called gently. “None of what happened is your fault.”

“How is it not, Dad?” I whispered. I wanted to put fire behind the demand but I could barely even raise my voice.

“You weren’t…” he hesitated. “Aware for it. You didn’t intentionally push those tidal waves into Seattle.”

I might as well have.

Dad waited a while longer, probably for me to say something, and sighed when I didn’t. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for this. You were trying to protect yourself — and Brent — and you did. You know how proud I am about that? You know how many times I had to fight Augustine before—“

“It shouldn’t be at the expense of other people,” I interrupted. “I was trying to stop Augustine from killing the Akomish and I just killed way more people than she would have if I stood by,”

“But you didn’t,” Dad said pointedly. “You didn’t just stand by. I think that matters more.”

“Yeah, tell that to everyone who lost family on fucking Christmas.” I snipped.

“You’re not gonna be the hero to everyone,” Dad continued. Thank God he didn’t chastise me for cursing, I think I would have lost it if he did. “No matter what you do, someone’s going to see you as a bad guy. They did me—”

“You didn’t kill over a hundred people!” I cut him off, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “You kept me from doing more damage! You don’t get t-to sit there and act like it wasn’t a bad thing! You know it’s bad — that’s why you didn't mention mom killing her brother, and you wouldn’t have even told me about the tsunami if I didn’t see it! You know it’s something to be ashamed of,”

There were times, when Dad would engage us in our little arguments and debates, that he’d turn on the stoic lawyer thing and we’d definitely lose the fight. There was just something about arguing emotions versus logic against a person that made you talk yourself into a corner. He wouldn’t be emotionless, mind you — he’d validate points that we made, empathize. But it always felt like he was trying to teach us to not let our emotions be the only thing that drove us.

Dad dropped the bloodsucker facade for this fight. His eyes softened at the tears pooling in mine, and he bit on his cheek so hard it looked painful. “You’d just gone through hell, Jean, I didn’t want to make it any harder for you—”

“You can’t use that as an excuse,” I cut him off. “I asked you about Mom and Uncle Brent days ago. You promised no more lies and the next day you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” He stated simply. “Your uncle died because of a gang war. That’s true.”

Oh my fucking god. I ground my teeth once I realized what he did, the bastard. “You used your stupid little perjury loopholes on me?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant—”

“It was, Dad, it was very relevant!” I scoffed.

Dad leaned forward slightly. “And you would have wanted to know that? You would have wanted to know your Mom killed her brother by accident and it haunted her for the rest of her life? Your mom was on anti-psychotics because of the damage it did to her. She’d sob about it at least once a week. Augustine used that fact to get her to do her bidding, brainwashed your mother into being her perfect little sniper. Your mom deserved to be known for more than that, for better than that.”

“I would have thought that either way,” I insisted. “I would have forgiven almost anything she did, but you — you didn’t tell me, and now it feels like I can’t even trust you to give me the chance to choose.” I motioned towards the television. “You didn’t tell me what happened so that I could — so that I’d just know—”

“You needed to rest and heal before worrying about anything like that—”

I pointed to my broken arm slung in a cast, at the way the purple of its plastic almost faded away into the purple of my bruising. “That would have taken weeks! You know it’s something I should feel bad about, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. So I wouldn’t be ashamed of how I killed people.”

“You did not kill them.” Dad insisted, stressing every word. “It’s not your fault.”

“I caused the tsunami. I wasn’t in control, I didn’t think. That’s enough,”

Dad grabbed my other hand when I went to drop it, and it took everything in me not to pull away. “You were…you were dying, Jean. When we found you in the Sound a few days after you disappeared, you were in this mass that left you barely warm enough to have a heartbeat. If it wasn’t for the Sound doing that, you would have died. You can’t blame yourself for not having control when you were about to die.”

“You don’t understand,” I finally decided, looking away. Back outside of that window, back to the skyline of Seattle. How many of them blamed me for what happened?

Dad inhaled, and for a moment, stayed quiet. I knew he was probably just building another argument, something I wasn’t going to relate to at all. Something I wasn’t going to accept. Then he spoke, and what he said caught me off guard: “Do you know how many Akomish died because of Augustine?”

I looked up slowly, eyebrows raising. “Huh?”

“When you went over the Seattle Uprising in school, did they mention how many Akomish died?” he repeated. I shook my head. “Forty-eight. One hundred and thirteen were interrogated, stuffed with fucking concrete, and almost half of them died.” He sighed. “When Augustine got there after your mom and Eugene broke out, I’d just got my first power. I had it for probably fifteen minutes, max. She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and the DUP funding, all that. When I told her all he gave me was his power…she didn’t believe me. She thought I was covering for him, that I was making fun of her, and I…I didn’t show her I had powers. I could have tried. I could have done something, anything…but I froze. I watched her put concrete in Betty’s legs and I did nothing. She went through the reservation interrogating people, sticking concrete in them all, and by the time I came back with her power so I could undo it, almost fifty people had passed. I could have kept everyone from dying, and I didn’t.

“And you want to know something else? I’ve killed.” He stated plainly, admitting to the crime. “I’ve had to, to survive. To keep you safe, like in that alley. But I’ve also…I’ve done it because I wanted to. That anger your mom felt enough of to hunt down drug dealers? I’ve experienced it. I followed through with it.”

I could feel the blood rush from my face. Dad’s killed people too?

“I’ve been on both sides. At fault inadvertently, and directly involved. I’ve been in a middle ground where it had to happen. I understand. And I have enough experience to know that, what you did? Is not your fault. You weren’t out of control, you didn’t do it selfishly. You were dying and you did what you could. There’ll…there’ll be death in fights like this. Archangel is out hunting for blood, and fights like this sometimes can only be won with loss. But you cannot blame yourself for every loss that happens. You couldn’t prevent any of them, you shouldn’t have to carry that burden.”

War isn’t won in battles, but bloodshed, Augustine had said.

I stayed silent, sitting there for what felt like forever, picking at the cuticles on the hand connected to my broken arm. “Do you regret it?” I finally whispered, unable to look up.

“What?”

“Killing someone,” I clarified, meeting his eyes. “It…do you regret it?”

Inhaling, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Why?” I asked, still nearly silent. “Why did you…”

Dad swallowed hard, and he seemed to be so far away as he thought about why. “I don’t want to justify what I did,” he started, “I can’t. It was wrong. I was on a warpath and didn’t care about anything but revenge. But I swear, I regret it. It’s haunted me since. It’s not something you can just forget, no matter how hard you try. And I regret not being honest with you. I shouldn’t have white lied my way out of explaining what happened with your mom, I’m sorry.”

I nodded, not opening my mouth to spit out some form of it’s okay because it definitely wasn’t. I didn’t feel like it was, at least. All I could keep thinking about were the casualties.

Dad squeezed my hand gently, and said, “You should eat. They’re wanting to give you an antibiotic to prevent infections and you can’t have those without food,”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “Okay.”

Brent didn’t seem like he was holding onto his anger anymore, at least. Thank God — I wasn’t sure if I could take any more fighting. He wouldn’t really meet my eyes either though, even when we were facing each other as night came, trying to fall asleep.

That was harder than it needed to be: sleeping in a hospital. Every noise seemed to carry further than possible through the halls; every machine beep, every patient’s cough, every nurse’s footsteps. My eyes may have been closed but it sure felt like my brain stayed awake through it all — which is why it was so easy to pick up on the hushed voices on the other side of the curtain.

“—hell do you think it is?” Dad finished.

“Don’t know,” Dr. Sims muttered back.

“You said you’ve heard of this shit as a power before?”

“Tar? Yeah. Way back in the day, DARPA caught this woman that worked for the First Sons, some scientist. Had tar powers. She was one of the first Conduits they started experimenting on before the DUP became a separate thing from the DoD.”

Only about twenty percent of that made sense to me.

I quietly rolled over to face the curtain that separated me from Dad and Dr. Sims, whose silhouettes were cast against the blue wall from the light of the bathroom. Dad was holding up a long tube of something, Dr. Sims standing across from him, arms crossed.

“DARPA? Like, the government?” Dad asked.

Dr. Sims’ shadow nodded. “Yeah. Turns out, they were funding the First Sons, probably the whole reason Empire City happened in the first place. The tar had mind-control abilities, and they were using it for some sort of revival of the MK-ULTRA project. Killed her over a whistleblower before the media could investigate and swept it all under the rug,”

“Jesus,” Dad breathed out.

“You’ve missed a lot the past sixteen years,” Dr. Sims laughed mirthlessly under his breath. “There’s a lot of shit the public doesn’t know. The First Sons even used this stuff to get people to attack MacGrath during the Quarantine. Made people sick too,”

Dad’s hand lowered. “And this stuff’s in my daughter? Is that why she won’t heal?”

“That’s the thing,” Dr. Sims took the tube back. “I don’t know if it’s the same, or some mutated version from the experiments, or what. I know nothing about this stuff at all.”

Dad’s next breath was shaky. “Fuck,” his head shook. “I’m scared, man. This is Abbs all over again.”

“You don’t know that, D—”

“She stopped healing first.” Dad interrupted — almost painfully. “You remember! The healing went first, and then the speed, and then the fuckin’—” he cut off when his voice caught. “I thought there was something wrong with her. I thought something about her flipped. If the same thing’s happening to Jean? That — it means it might not have been a coincidence.”

“You think it might run in the family?”

“I don’t know.” Dad tilted his head back slightly, like he was trying to keep bile from appearing. “I don’t know if I think it’s hereditary, or if…if someone maybe did something to Abbs.”

“Del, you don’t know if that’s—“

Dad’s hand swung wildly in my direction. “My kid’s got forty-six stitches! Her arm’s broken! Only other time I’ve seen a Conduit like this is when Abbs’ c-section scar got infected. We don’t get infections, we don’t get stitches. I don’t know if it’s something hereditary, or because of that shit, but I don’t like that it’s happening again.”

I blinked out of my sleep then. Mom…stopped healing, too? That was where her sickness started?

Dr. Sims hummed gently. “I’m worried too, but remember the exact same thing is happening to those old DUP agents.”

“Yeah — ‘cause they’re forced Conduits! Jean’s prime—”

“We can’t make any assumptions until we know more about what’s going on.”

Dad’s hands came up to run through his hair, and I could hear him sigh deeply. “So then what do we do?”

“I could run a microarray on her, see if it’s genetic. I’d want Brent’s as a base sample too.”

“And if it’s not that?” Dad demanded.

Dr. Sims hesitated for a moment. “I…know someone that could help us,” he began. “Someone that’s seen this stuff in action. Might have some connections, too. But…” he drew off. “You’re not gonna like it.”

The shadow of Dad’s head cocked to the side in curiosity, and they were silent for a full ten seconds before Dad’s head snapped straight again and he said, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Del, listen—”

“Not happening. Do you not remember last time?”

“That was almost eighteen years ago—”

“And it hasn’t been long enough! You weren’t there, man. He’s weird! I got this speech that didn’t make sense and he — the fucker wouldn’t even meet me after everything—”

“You’re still holding on to that?”

“He’s not even a Conduit!” Dad hissed on a whisper that was bordering a regular voice. The closest he could get to yelling. “He has no business being involved is this—”

“He is the closest we will ever get to talking to Cole MacGrath,” Dr. Sims interrupted. His silhouette raised the tube and shook it at Dad slightly. “You wanna know what this is? You wanna help Jean? He’s the only one that can help. Him, or the government — and you and I both know how that would go.”

Dad’s hands came up, and while I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, I knew he was probably pressing his palms into his eyes like he always did when he was frustrated. But then his head raised and looked my way, and my breath froze. Did he know I was eavesdropping?

No, he didn’t. Looking towards where I was seemed to be the last cannonball that broke down the wall of his objection, because he sighed, entirely complicit and absolutely unwillingly, “Fine. Okay. How do we get in contact with him? I haven’t talked to him since that shit with Wolfe,”

“We’ve got a system. He likes to stay off the radar, but he’s not too hard to find.” Dr. Sims tucked the tube away in his pocket, saying “Take out your phone,” while doing so.

Dad did, the click of him unlocking it echoing off of the sterile walls. “Okay, now what?”

Dr. Sims held out his hand, and that twinkling sound that always accompanied his power came back. It wasn’t like Dad’s; Dad’s had the underlying tone of TV static, where Dr. Sims’ almost sounded like what I imagined wizard magic would sound like. Their side of the curtain lit up, making me squint in discomfort at the sudden light change, and by the time the sound ended and the brightness dimmed, Dad was in the middle of cursing. “Eugene — fuck — I didn’t mean now—”

“I can only catch his signal when I concentrate on it,” Dr. Sims shrugged. “Otherwise it’s scrambled.”

“Yeah, okay, but I’d have liked to have slept before dealing with him,” Dad grumbled, the hand holding his phone coming up to his ear. I could barely hear the ringing that came from the receiver; it sang once, twice, and then was picked up, Dad sighing as the voice on the other side answered.

“Zeke Dunbar?” Dad asked. “This is Delsin Rowe.” His body turned slightly in place so he could look where he knew I was, a final reminder of why he needed to call. “I need your help.”

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #delsin rowe #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker #Sucker Punch Productions #I'm trying to add things to hide the other tags #Do not read any more of these tags for spoiler reasons #Finally. FINALLY. I GET TO TAG THIS NEXT ONE!!!#Zeke Dunbar #'oh cool a second son fic--' SIKE MOTHERFUCKERS THIS IS A ZEKE DUNBAR FANFICTION (/s)#ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE!#This is my PSA: catch up on your inFAMOUS 1 and inFAMOUS 2 lore. We're going back to our roots #I am collecting original characters like Pokemon. Am I possibly doing too much? yeah. Will it stop me? No

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sneaky-eel · 7 months ago

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I just got bored and decided to look up Delsin Rowe (cause of that one fic of him and Desmond. You know the one) and I find out he is 24?! I thought that fucker was like 18-20??? Maybe?? And he is between 6' - 6'3"??? Like what?

#written post #i thought he was like 5'9 or something #and had to sneak alcohol #but no #actual because infamous 2 takes place in 2011 he is either the same age or a year older then Desmond #and possibly taller?#ignore me

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ramble-writes · 2 years ago

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Wrench yawned as he stretched his old limbs out above his head. Eugh. To think he can claim himself as old for once is kinda gross. But that’s the sad reality when he’s 41 years old. He rubs at his face before looking at his phone where he has a text from Marcus pulled up asking about visiting for a week. A week to reconnect, a week to spend time with friends and unwind like old days before Horatio died and after !NViTE was taken down. Honestly it didn’t sound bad.

Another text popped up, but from a number he doesn’t recognize. He pulls it up and skims over the message.

Hey

You commin’ to San Fran in 2 weeks?

Weird. An unknown number texts him asking if he’s going to San Francisco, California the exact same two weeks Marcus asked him to come. With zero hesitation he plugged in his phone and pulled up a program on his laptop to scan the IP address that’s attached to the phone number.

Seattle, Washington.

Even more weird. He doesn’t remember anyone from Washington unless it was one of the DedSec members that got a new number there. Wrench then went back to the PM with Marcus and asked him if any members had moved around the states.

Sure yeah. Some moved to Chicago to fix the DedSec group there. Some moved to other states to help start up DedSec there. But I dunno about Washington man.

Huh. I got a txt from a Washington # asking about me coming to Francies in 2 weeks.

That’s a lil spooky man. Don’t answer it.

Wrench sent a thumbs up emoji before setting his phone down. He stared at the location where the number is. He pulled up a map to see where its at and a ‘huh’ left him at seeing the Space Needle. The sight of it made him pause. He’s visited Seattle at least once from what he remembers.

10 years ago, he traveled a bit and ended up there. He remembers some big structures that were in the process of being taken down from what looked like a military take over, tons of construction happening and if he recalled correctly, some people that looked like average citizens were flying. He can’t remember if that’s right or not. Wrench doesn’t remember the face or name of a guy he met there, but the smell of smoke and the rattling of chains were locked in his mind.

Wrench can't remember if he got that guy's number or not, but he does remember a tattoo, but that's as much detail he can think of. As for the trip itself, he does recall going to the Space Needle which is great, he can think of a few tags he left there as well. The fish market is definitely memorable. Fishermen throwing fish as entertainment for the people before gutting them.

All Wrench had were these memories to hang on to. As for that smoke man, the only thing that came to light about him was a deep longing that he could only guess he did care (possibly love) for the guy. That was till leaving for an opportunity of a lifetime, getting married and divorcing his now ex-husband, and he's been here in London since. Fuck where did the time go...

-2 weeks later-

San Fran-fucking-cisco. Oh being home sent Wrench on a frenzy in things he wanted to do once he's back with the gang! He wondered how Sitara was doing, if Josh was still hunched over that same damn computer of his. And Marcus. Oh sweet Marcus! The torment can continue! And driving on the RIGHT side of the street after giving up on driving to the left. He won't miss that at all.

With a little bit of hacking, he got into the nearest electric car that was totally left sitting there and drove on home to his good ol' garage. Wrench did feel a bit bad for leaving Wrench Jr back in London, but he couldn't risk his baby getting lost again. Not like when they fucked over !NViTE those many years ago.

Wrench was just about to text Marcus that he arrived home safely, that is till loud honking interrupts him and the gate to his garage opened up. It was like God sent an angel to him upon seeing Marcus step out with that goofy grin of his.

"Marcus? Oh Marcus! You son of a bitch it's good to see you! Fuck I could kiss you!"

"Uh. You don't mean that, right?"

That made him snicker. "No. 'Course not."

"Well you better get yo scrawny ass over here or I'm leaving without you!"

The emoticons on Wrench's mask switched to carrots to show his happiness as he trotted over. It was a brief hug the two shared before getting into the car and heading off for that board game store where their hideout laid below.

"So I thought about what you said 'bout people from Washington."

"Yeah? What of?"

"Turns out some did migrate north and ended up there. When word got out of your return, they came hustling back! Along with some natives who joined up."

Question marks appeared on the screen of the mask as the wearer tilted his head.

"Why you lookin' at me like that? You stayed up there for 3 years! Do you not remember the whole conduit situation that existed the whole time you were there? I remember you callin’ me up screamin’ about people turning into streaks of neon, disappearing into satellite dishes, concrete people, you even mentioned someone turning into paper! And you dated one.”

And there went the bells. Wrench started to rapidly tap at the dashboard of the car that Marcus had to stop him since he’s driving. He knew there must’ve been a reason why smoke was so prominent in his mind from that time.

“You’re telling me we got conduits in our ranks!? And you waited till NOW to tell me??”

Marcus let out a chuckle as he shakes his head. “Why else did I ask you to come down here? One of them got their birthday comin’ up, so why not celebrate it with The Wrench present?”

Wrench started to pat at his legs in excitement, telling Marcus to drive faster so he can bless the place with his ever so glorious presence. It was amazing how he dealt with this masked psycho for the whole time he’s been in DedSec and knew what all his crazy rambles meant. As for Wrench, well now he was wondering which one was it that he dates for the time he was in Seattle.

The car pulled up to the curb of Gary’s Games & Glory, the board game store where the beloved Hackerspace resides below. Marcus got out and hustled over to the other side to open the passenger door for Wrench who gives a ‘thank you, good sir’ in a mock British accent. Of course, Marcus responded in the same manner.

Going inside the building, Retr0 and The Wrench made their way to the back of the store to where the keypad is where the passcode was entered. And like always, the door took what felt like forever to open before the two went in and descended the steps to the base floor. Wrench inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. Hackerspace, sweet Hackerspace~

Loud voices greeted the two as they made their way to the open area, and it was a bit of a surprise to see how it’s kinda packed. It was easy to tell who was what by how the conduits would flash their powers and how others got excited/were impressed by them. Wrench went to get closer, till he was poked in the shoulder by none other than Sitara.

She still rocked the side ponytail, but her outfit of course changed a bit along with the color of her makeup. But Sitara was the same as she was those years ago as she did hug him since his coat has less spikes than the vest he used to wear. Of course, he hugged her back with the double carrots appearing on his visor to show his happiness. There was nothing that could beat being home here in San Francisco for him.

“Oh! Hey, Wrench. There’s someone you gotta meet!” Marcus exclaimed. Wrench looks at his friend as he waved someone over, then jumped at the sudden cloud of smoke that went still and formed a face Wrench hasn’t seen in 11 years: Delsin Rowe.

Delsin looked when Marcus gestured, and that joyous expression he had on his face for being in San Fran, changed to a more softer one with a half smile.

“Hey, Wrench.”

“... Hi.”

“It’s been a long time since I last seen you, right?”

Wrench gave a slight nod. Everything that happened back in Seattle came back to him in quick flashes. How they met, tagging walls, fucking with what little is left of the DUP, and other things that he’s glad his mask covers his blush. By looks, Del hasn’t changed much. The vest was still the same, but that white hoodie was replaced with another white hoodie, but with a DedSec logo printed in black.

“That hoodie looks good on you...”

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Marcus gave it to me as an early birthday gift. I mean, that’s why us conduits are here. You did get my text asking if you were coming, right?”

That made him gasp as he scrambled to pull out his phone from his pocket to look at the text. “So that was you that messaged me! Fuck, man! I was worried there for a sec thinking I got hacked!”

That made Delsin laugh, which turned into wheezing when Wrench went off about how he didn’t grab a birthday gift for the power sponge. The conduit simply reassured him that Wrench being there is good enough since it’s been years since they hung out. Of course, this made Wrench feel defeated, but silently vowed to get something later.

37 years old is what Delsin turns to. Marcus made a comment that they’re the same age since he turns 37 in December. Of course the two laughed at that while sharing some drinks, then looked at the amount of people that were huddled around Wrench as he told his tales of London and how chaotic things were and the tech they had. Conduits and hackers were captivated as he retold about having to chase down a literal invisible car that he liked to dub the Ghost Car.

“Ya know, D? I remember Wrench tellin’ me about you two. The things y’all did, the sick tags, and honestly how much he adored you.”

“HA!”

Both men look to see a brief streak of neon and Fetch sitting down on a crate full of who knows what.

“You should’ve seen this idiot come runnin’ when he and Wrench did something! He would gush about it like a wittle skool girl,” Fetch snickered as she squished her cheeks as if to mock Delsin. He only shook his head with a chuckle as he elbowed her.

“I did not sound like that, I can tell you.”

“No. But ya did practically swoon when you told me about when you two kissed.”

Marcus choked on the sip he took and whipped his head around to look at the pinkette, then looked at Delsin. “You did a what when y’all kissed?”

“Oh no...”

“Mhm! Smokey looked like he was star struck. Babbling on ‘bout how it aaaaall happened!”

“Fetch, I am going to punch you.”

“Hey! Don’t make me bring up that one time I came over to your place and saw you in your sweats with bite marks and nail scrapes.”

It was quiet between the three as Marcus now stared at Delsin with wide eyes and a grin forming on his face. He started to giggle as he nudged and poked at the smoke conduit who swatted at him to stop.

“You tapped that! Holy shit man! Quick, who was top and who was bottom!”

Delsin covered his ears as his cheeks turned a bit pink. “I’m not listening to you two anymore!”

The two laughed as he got up and moved away from them in a hurry. It was easy to tell he’s the one that can get flustered quickly between the two. For now, it was nice to see the two groups be together and have fun as they celebrate Delsin’s birthday. “Cake” was just a bunch of donuts from a shop not too far from where they are, but it was still fun to smush one in Del’s face.

As much of a party animal Wrench is, being in his fuckin 40s is not fun. He managed to slip away after the bazillionth yawn he let out. Hell he didn’t even drink much like he used to! Plus, he still had that vow to find something for Delsin since he had zero idea it was happening. High-jacking a car, he drove off to his garage in hopes to get a spark of inspo to see what he could make or turn into a gift.

He scratched at his head in frustration as he looked through boxes of parts he scrapped or broke from old projects. The smell of smoke then filled the garage and Wrench turned his head to see Delsin standing in the center with smoke trailing upwards, meaning he came from the vents.

“Oh uh... Hey, Del.”

“Hey. You left.”

“Oh. Pssh. Yeah. Being 41, I can’t really party like I used to.”

Delsin chuckled as he put his hands in his pockets. “Guess that job offer really made you an adult.”

Wrench shook his head with a slight chuckle. “Yeaaaah. That was till the guy fucked me over and stole my work. I showed him what’s what, and now the bastard is locked away.”

Yikes. It does kinda explain why he seems more tired. Though that could be the jet lag since he did fly from London all the way to America. Delsin then looked around the place and let out a whistle.

“Quite the place you got.”

“Yeah. I did a lot of things in here, and it was the birth place of the first ever Jimmy Siska remote control car! One of the best moments that live here.”

Another chuckle left Delsin. He watched as Wrench pulled something out of a box of other devices, then went over to his workbench to start doing... whatever it is. The masked hacker pulled out his laptop as well and booted it up to pull up a program, then got to work dismantling and rebuilding the object he grabbed. The conduit went over to see what he’s working on, only to find himself being asked to sodden some bits of metal together.

It took some time to finish the base of the object, then Wrench found himself yawning and closed his laptop. Tomorrow, he told himself. He’s going to work on the program to make it light up in the morning. He checked the time, then looked at Delsin and motioned with his head to follow. Out the door of the garage they went and over to the tall building next door, they took the stairs on the side of the building to go to the top.

The building wasn’t tall enough to see over every other structure, but it was enough to get a sight of the bay to the east and the ocean to the west. Wrench went over and sat down on the edge of the building and patted the spot next to him for Delsin. When he sat down, a sigh was let out.

“Remember when you brought me up to the Space Needle to show me the sunset?”

“Heh, yeah. It’s uh... It’s where we had our first kiss.”

Wrench nodded, then removed his mask since Del has seen him without it before. A sigh leaves him as the both of them sat there in silence, till the conduit rested his head on the hacker’s shoulder. There was no flinch when he did that, only a welcomed cheek resting on the top of his head.

“I have to admit... I missed you,” Wrench muttered. Delsin chuckled a bit as he pressed closer.

“I missed you as well. I sometimes think back to those years you were in Seattle and all the stuff we did, the things I showed you...”

“You wishing we could go back to those times?”

Delsin nodded a bit, then lifted his head up to look into those same blue eyes, thinking if it was a good idea to ask or not seeing as how they just reunited.

“Do... Do you think we could restart? Fresh from the start?”

Wrench blinked, then gave a half smile. A fresh start sounded the best way to go, so he straightened himself up a bit and cleared his throat. Delsin simply rolled his eyes in seeing what this man was going to do.

“If we are gonna start from the beginning, then from the beginning we shall go.” He then held out his hand to the Akomish man.

“Hey there. Names Reginald Blechman. But you can call me Wrench instead. What’s your name?”

Oh that threw Delsin for a loop at hearing his name, but he had to play along with this. So he took the waiting hand and shook it.

“Delsin Rowe. But you can call me Del if you want.”

The both of them chuckled at the introductions and let go of each other.

“Don’t go thinking I’m going to call you Reggie, now. That would be fucked up to moan out since that’s my brother’s name.”

Wrench let out a snort before he busted out laughing. “Not like I’m going to let you call me that anyway! I would rather be dead before anyone calls me Reggie. No offence to your brother, of course. But someone using a known nickname of Reginald on me is a no no.”

“Understandable. Besides, Wrench fits you better. Gotta fix that loose screw in your head somehow.”

“Hey!” Wrench lightly shoved him as he laughed. The two calmed down and went back to their previous positions, Delsin’s head resting on Wrench’s shoulder. What came next was how it was just the tips of their fingers that touched. They both had a feeling things will turn out for the better, and lost time can be regained.

#delsin rowe #wrench watch dogs #infamous second son #watch dogs 2 #watch dogs legion #crossover #delsin x wrench #reginald blechman #marcus holloway #sitara dhawan #josh sauchak #fetch infamous second son #abigail walker #yes this is a long fic #but i don't care cuz i love it #nao enjoy lol #my writings

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elreyconducto · 3 years ago

Text

Raven in a Pear Tree

Fandom: inFAMOUS: Second Son

Rating: T

Characters: Delsin Rowe, Reggie Rowe, Abigail "Fetch" Walker, Eugene Sims

Words: 8,673

Warnings: violence, assault, character vomiting (towards the end in a hospital), mentions of offscreen character death, language, vivid description of injuries. Whump, all the whump.

Notes: my first prompt for @amonthofwhump 12 Days of Whumpmas and a gift for @cooldadmondmiles for the Infamous ProtoCreed_Dogs 2021 Winter Gift Exchange!

Collection Summary: A collection of semi-related one shots for Whumpmas 2021 featuring one Delsin Rowe. Oh, the poor unfortunate soul. Lots of Delsin whump, but he will have plenty of comfort from the people that love him. Rowe bro feels and Delgenetch

Chapter Summary: Delsin, having taken a much needed trip back to Salmon Bay to visit his tribe and his brother for about a week, returns to Seattle back to his boyfriend and girlfriend.

Or, he would have, if not for being assaulted on the way there. His not so distant past has caught up to him in the worst possible way. Reggie, multiple Akomish, and Eugene and Fetch are worried sick about him. They search well into the night...but what they find chills them to the bone

(AO3 Link) | (FF Link)

Prompt: 1) Partridge in a Pear Tree: Tied to a Tree | Given as a Gift | Putting up the Tree

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven in a Pear Tree

Months after fighting Augustine, saving Seattle, and healing his tribe, Delsin still did not feel like the hero people made him out to be. He was just one guy in his twenties who barely had his life together. Even though he was there, smack in the middle during all of this, whenever he heard someone talk about it or heard about it on the news, it always felt…surreal. Like it wasn’t actually him mentioned. As if it was some other Delsin.

He tried to push those thoughts aside right now.

He was having a decent day. His depression was manageable today and he didn’t want to work himself into a downward spiral.

Stopping in his walk, he leaned against a tree and took a deep breath, placing a hand against his chest. Five seconds in, eight seconds out. ‘If you feel yourself getting overwhelmed,’ he could hear his therapist’s voice in his head, ‘stop everything you’re doing if possible and breathe. You’d be surprised how much that will help, even if just for a few minutes.’

He had been doing alright for most of today. He had gone back to Salmon Bay to visit his tribe, both wanting to make sure that everyone was okay and just to see some familiar faces and places. Living in his apartment in Seattle was great, but he had been with the Akomish his whole life—he had missed them. Betty had been a sight for sore eyes—her pies an even better sight for his sore (hungry) stomach, and hearing the kids running around all over the place calmed him. There had been a handful of kids that he had thought weren’t…weren’t going to make it when they were suffering from the concrete. One five-year-old, Stephanie, had an incredibly weak immune system while two ten-year-old twins, Jessie and Jennie, already had problems that affected their healing. He didn’t know the exact details as he wasn’t a doctor, but Delsin was aware that they had always been in and out of the hospital since they were very young.

Getting to spend some time with Reggie was better than expected. Refreshing, even. After his brother had been ki—had been thought to be dead, Delsin was not proud to say he had gone to a dark place after taking down Augustine. He still felt like he was in that place some days…But, joking around with Reggie, eating their favorite junk food, and binging bad TV had made him feel less anxious. Less jittery. Had brought back a sense of normalcy that put him at ease.

Now, he was walking away from the reservation through the woods that surrounded the area. As much as he liked going fast-paced, it was times like these that he liked to take the scenic route. Literally, in this case. He had spent much of his childhood running around between the trees around here, so he wasn’t worried about getting lost. I was born in this area thanks to my parents, and I was born again as an active Conduit here too.

The only good that had come out of meeting that asshole Hank, other than coming into his powers, were Fetch and Eugene. They had become fast friends during The Shit Show, then even more than that when things calmed down.

The ringtone for a video call coming from his phone broke him out of his thoughts. When he pulled out his phone, he was unsurprised to see it was from the group chat he was in with Fetch and Eugene. Speak of the devil. Well, more like devils.

“Hey, D!” Fetch’s voice chirped once he joined the call.

“Hey, Delsin,” Eugene’s greeting was less energetic, though happy to see him, nonetheless.

Delsin smiled. Hearing their voices always made him feel better. “Sup, guys? Missing me that much already? Didn’t think a week away would be so hard on you.”

Eugene snorted while Fetch rolled her eyes. The video shook a bit as the phone was taken and refocused on Eugene’s face. He looked good. Still styled to cover part of his forehead, his bangs didn’t hang so much in front of his glasses anymore. Must have gotten a trim. Delsin liked it as it shaped his face handsomely. “Please,” their angel fiddled with one of his hoodie strings with his free hand, “not uh, not that much. Not to say we didn’t! Um, we to-totally did, but you were busy, and and, you know—“

This time, Fetch took the phone before Eugene’s nervousness grew too much. Her pink hair had grown a bit after getting some actual nutrition and supplements after moving into Delsin’s apartment. It was to the length now that she had it up in an intricately braided bun. One that a single person wouldn’t be able to do. Did Eugene know how to braid? “Don’t get an inflated head, now. You wouldn’t be able to fit into your beanie if that happens.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Such a comedian.”

“I live t’ please, my good man.”

The feeling of autumn leaves trailed under his fingertips as he brushed his fingers against multiple bushes while walking. He loved this weather. “So now that I know you guys weren’t missing my pretty face, what’s up?”

This time Eugene pressed into Fetch’s space instead of taking back the phone. Not that she minded. “We knew you’re coming back to Seattle today. Just, you know, wanted to check on you.” Even dating them for a few months now, Eugene still had times of shyness he struggled with. “Not that you can’t take care of yourself! But…we know what the Akomish are to you.”

“Thanks, ‘Gene,” he smiled at him. He felt something in his chest soften at the concern and thought. They weren’t Akomish, but they were steadily climbing up to that same level of importance in his life. Very steadily.

“Plus, I need to know the latest gossip,” Fetch’s purple eyeshadow shimmered when her eyes crinkled with her grin.

He looked around for a second. About another ten minutes of walking and he would get to the bus stop that would take him to Seattle. Sure, he could use his powers to run or fly there, but that would take energy and just make him tired. And he could work on some sketches while riding on the bus, so that made it an easy decision. “There’s always gossip, so which do you want to hear first? Martha Zee and Jen’s relationship or the ongoing bake-off between Miss Meg and Miss Shiro?”

“The bake-off!” Eugene’s enthusiasm could be felt through the phone.

“We gotta know, did Miss Meg sabotage Miss Shiro’s oven again?” Fetch was hungry for an answer. He couldn’t blame her; the intense bake-off between the two older women had been going on for the past year. It had escalated from a simple disagreement over the best way to cook brownies to prank-level full-on sabotage between two women into their seventies.

He plucked a big yellow leaf from a low hanging branch. He would use it as a texture pressing later. He couldn’t help himself as he said, “Would you believe it was Miss Shiro this time that switched Miss Meg’s cocoa powder with brown pastel powder?”

“She what?!”

“You’re kidding!”

Delsin took great joy in giving them the juiciest new details in the ridiculous, but hilarious, old lady battle. Sometimes sabotaged foods were sullied beyond saving, but more often than not, the ‘not good enough, not simply good enough’ baked goods were just fine for hungry stomachs and sticky fingers around the place. Reg and himself took no shame in hunching under the windowsill and nabbing a mini pie or three.

Or five.

Same diff.

The sun was starting to get low, but not quite to the point of sunset. Four o’clock in the fall was not the same as four o’clock in the summer. Just as he was about to get into details of the loudest argument he had heard between the two women, he felt something slam hard into his side. He was sent flying several feet, coming to a stop when his back hit a tree.

He groaned. Or, he made the approximation of a groan since he was trying to get his lungs to work again. The leaves and dirt under his hands were cool as he pushed himself up. He did not know where the hell his phone went. A cough rattled out of his chest. “The fuck…?”

“Finally found you, you son of a bitch,” a hostile voice hissed from behind him.

Delsin was fast, but apparently this person was faster. Before he could even turn his body to see who in the hell had hit him, he felt a sharp, hard force strike his head. A cry fell out of his mouth. He collapsed back onto the ground. Ringing sounded in his ears and nausea began to make itself known. He blinked, but the spots in his vision did not disappear.

Somehow, he had managed to hear the person speak over the growing ringing in his ears. “Time to make you pay, ‘Hero of Seattle’.”

His vision swam and his hearing became muffled.

Darkness soon claimed him.

_____________________________________________________________

The smell of dampness and autumn decay hit him first.

Then a bitch of a headache walloped him like a sack of bricks being slammed against his skull. Specifically the back of his head. He groaned. He was about to move his arm to try and rub the ache away until his body jerked in place. He shot his eyes open, vision blurry for just a few seconds—he was restrained against a pole? No. A clearer look around, seeing the dirt, grass, leaves, and bushes, made him realize he was tied against a large tree.

Trying to maneuver himself gave him a worse enlightenment. His hands, which were tied behind him, were covered in a thick slab of something hard. He tried to manipulate the material, but no success. It was too solid to have been neon, video, or smoke, and if it had been concrete, he would have been able to manipulate it. It was too smooth. Metal?

What in the hell happened…?

The pain in his head was making it difficult for him to focus. He remembered walking back from visiting his tribe, taking the long route through the forested area around Salmon Bay. He had been talking to…someone? Had there been someone there with him? He racked his mind and then remembered, oh yes, he had been on a video call with his partners. And then…and then…

He swore. And then someone had attacked him and knocked him out. What the fuck?

“Nice to see you awake, hero,” the same voice from earlier said.

From a thick tree to his left and in front of him leaned the person who, assumedly, had been the one to attack him. She was about Fetch’s height, although leaning towards the much bulkier side. Her hobby must have been benchpressing or something, because the muscles in her arms seemed to strain her shirt as she crossed her arms. (He was only a tiny bit jealous.) Her pale skin contrasted against the deep blue of her hat and bubble vest. Her black pants and boots, however, were fairly nondescript and looked like she could have gotten them anywhere.

He would have said she could have looked like anyone he would come across in the street, but her peculiar stare and pinched frown did not speak to a person from the common masses.

Having no idea what she wanted or what she was going to do to him—well, he had an inkling if the attack and restraining him were to go by—so he thought it best to play it cool as possible. If he said the wrong thing, he didn’t want to know what she would do. “Ah, I hope you haven’t been speaking to the, er, ‘fanclub’ that likes to follow me around. I’m just a regular artist, you see. Like to visit people, tag different places, and eat good food. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but,” he shimmied his shoulders to indicate his bound status, “not really that pleasurable to be like this. Think you can let me go?”

The woman snorted, then shook her head. “I don’t know what he sees that you are. You’re ridiculous.”

Wait a second.

That was not the voice he heard in the forest.

His surprise must have shown on his face because the woman gave a small smirk. “Oh yeah, I don’t want anything really to do with you. It was just my job to get you here.” She pointed to a large thicket of bushes adjacent to him, “He’s the one that you have to deal with.”

Delsin whipped his head to where she was pointing and saw a stupidly tall man. Like, Delsin wasn’t short by any means, but the angle he was at and the height of this man was ridiculous. Probably close to seven feet or something. He really must have been eating his Wheaties since he was born.

“I hate Wheaties,” the man said. Yep, that was the voice from earlier for sure.

Oh, did I say that out loud? Delsin adjusted his wrists to try and wring out the ache from his bound hands. Didn’t work that well. “That’s okay, because you and me both, pal. I swear, my brother used to swear by those things when he wanted to get ahead in his baseball team prac—”

A sharp pain across his mouth cut him off. He hissed at the pain, wondering what the hell happened until he saw a marble-sized metal ball rolling on the ground next to him, shiny with slick red. He licked his lips, and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. He shot his eyes up to meet a pair glaring straight at him, the owner’s hand raised in the air. With a flick of a finger, the man brought back the bloodied ball back to him, sneering at its dirtied surface.

Shit, another Conduit.

And a pissed off one at that.

“Christ, you’re so fucking annoying. Never can keep your mouth shut, can you?” The man shook his head. “Never mind, I already know the answer. I’ve seen you all over the news and online, hero. A chatterbox to a fault. I don’t know how the people of Seattle look up to someone like you.”

Delsin spat out some of the blood that was dripping into his mouth and shot the guy a look. “Hey man, I don’t know what the hell you want with me, but I promise you’re not gonna get that much. I’m close to broke, so if you’re looking for money, you’re not getting any here.”

Metal Man looked like he wanted to set Delsin on fire, which, to be fair, was a look he was kind of used to getting from some people (mostly D.U.P.s). “I don’t want your damn money, you idiot. I want you to suffer!”

He blinked.

His mouth activated quicker than his brain did. “Wow, you sure do sound like a stereotypical movie villain. I don’t think—”

Another ball of metal struck him again, this time larger in size and more forceful in strength. The wind got knocked out of him when it connected with his stomach. Thanks ADHD…getting me into another hole… Breathless, he managed to croak out, “G-Great pitch, man. Must have, hnnn, been in little league as a kid. Though, gotta say, I’m insulted that you want me to suffer so bad. I’ve never even met you before.”

He felt the metal around his arms constrict to the point of feeling the joints of his elbows creak against the trunk of the tree. He couldn’t help the low fuck that escaped his lips, but that seemed to make Metal Man gleeful. Delsin only knew this guy for a few minutes and already decided that he was a bastard. “You may have never met me before directly,” Metal Man started, “but you’ve affected my life in ways that I will never be able to recover from.” It was at this point that Metal Man walked closer to Delsin, and it was something in his face and the way that he moved that set Delsin even more on edge than before.

The bound Conduit was silent when Metal Man squatted in front of him, still dwarfing him with his size. “And what pisses me off even more is that you have no idea what you even did, do you?”

The man was being vague on purpose, which did not help Delsin’s nerves in the slightest. “Like I said before,” he said carefully, “I don’t know you, so I don’t know what I could have done to you. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“Tch,” Metal Man rolled his eyes as if he expected the answer, “Of course you don’t.”

He punched Delsin right across the face.

Delsin’s head snapped violently to the side. Lights danced in front of his eyes and that ringing in his ears from earlier made its presence known once again. He groaned, trying to reorient himself. At this rate, his face was going to end up a looking like a messy, old watercolor paint palette.

“My name is Russel Simon, and you, Delsin Rowe, are the murderer of my sister.”

As soon as those words made it to his ears, Delsin could not believe what he was hearing. Him, a murderer? No, no, no that couldn’t be right at all. He’d never killed anyone in his life! Even getting into tussles with D.U.P.s and Akurans, he’d always left them alive. Hurt, but alive. And he made sure he told this guy just that. “You have the wrong person. I don’t know who your sister is, but I didn’t kill her. I’ve never killed anyone before.” Even saying this, his anxiety began to tick up slowly—this situation felt something out of a fever dream. A bad one at that.

The man, now known as Russel, shot out his hand to pull Delsin closer by the collar of his hoodie. The snarl that was present on his face reminded Delsin of some of the feral cats that used to hide away in the cannery. The ones ready to attack someone of they sneezed wrong. He didn’t dare move a muscle right now. “Bullshit! I know for a fact that it was you. My sister was D.U.P., and even though I didn’t always agree with what they did, my sister had a steady paying job that was good for her.” Russel shook Delsin, hand still clutching his hoodie, “So imagine how I felt when I get a call from her superior officer that Sharon wouldn’t be coming home because she was dead.”

Russel threw Delsin back in disgust and the bound Conduit watched him pace irradicably, clutching a hand to his chest. “One of the checkpoint stations got attacked, and oh no, not by some run of the mill thug or criminals looking to cause trouble. No, no…I find out that it was a Conduit who fucking blew up the damn station! And not just any Conduit.” With every word that Russel was saying, dread and fear welled up in Delsin’s chest. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

He didn’t have a choice.

“A smoke-wielding Conduit in a red beanie and hoodie.” He pinned him with a glare that should have vaporized him on the spot. “You, Rowe. You killed my sister that day. It was yourfault the whole scaffolding came down on everyone, and, and—fucking hell, a serrated piece of metal decapitated her! All because of you!”

No.

No, no, nonono, he…No, that couldn’t…Delsin wanted to vomit. His chest hurt, his head throbbed, and it was getting hard to breathe. All he could do was sit there, helpless, and stare at the man in front of him with disbelieving eyes.

But everything he said made sense.

Everything made sense in a sick sort of way.

He had been the only Conduit attacking checkpoint stations when he had first set loose on Seattle with Reggie. Oh God.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. Was he against the tree still? Had it been hours? Minutes? There was too much of everything because how could he have done that? He had done his damnest to make sure all his opponents came out alive, and now he was a murderer.

Her head had gotten decapitated. Because of him.

He was a murderer.

A tight grip on his face brought him back to the physical reality a bit, his wide eyes meeting those of Russel. The manic look from the man’s eyes had disappeared, but Delsin supposed the mania had transferred to him. His body started to shake, and it had nothing to do with the fall chill. “Ohhh, I am glad you finally realized what you’ve done,” Russel’s voice was a stark contrast from earlier: low, almost calm, though darker than before. Dangerous in a way that was making Delsin panic. “Because now…” he stood up straight, looking down at Delsin.

He smiled. “Now, I’m going to take my time with you.”

_____________________________________________________________

Fetch, Eugene, and Reggie were besides themselves with worry.

Delsin had been missing for hours now, and there was still no sign of him. None.

The two Conduits had immediately contacted Reggie when Delsin’s call had gotten cut off. They explained that they saw Delsin being tackled by someone and heard them saying something threatening to him before their call cut out. That had been around four o’clock. They had flown via Eugene’s video to the Salmon Bay area faster than ever before—they had set a new record.

Reggie set up a police search in the area as soon as possible. Technically there should have been a waiting period to file a missing person’s report, but Reggie was the Sherriff, and his officers knew Delsin. Everyone knew he wouldn’t have disappeared with no contact like that, especially after such a nice visit to the reservation. Word had spread quickly, despite Reggie’s efforts to not panic the tribe, and before he knew it, a third of the tribe was helping to search, another third was offering to keep a look out around the reservation, and the other third of those who were not able to help were beside themselves. Betty and the kids that looked up to Delsin in particular.

“He was just here. How could something have happened so quick?” Betty had rubbed a hand on her bad knee, as if trying to work out any worry that had manifested as pain. “I just spoke to him before he left.”

“Didn’t Del just leave? Let’s go!” the twins Jessie and Jennie had wanted to go out themselves, but 1) due to them being ten, and 2) getting over pneumonia, the answer had been a firm ‘no’.

Little Stephanie had been in tears thinking that something bad had happened to Delsin. Despite Reggie trying his best not to let the news get to the kids, she had, somehow, been one of the first to have found out. (Her getting worked up had always been detrimental to her health, so Reggie had worried she was going to make herself sick…again.)

It was after eight at night now and there was still no sign of Delsin.

Fetch felt the neon under her skin buzzing with her nerves, while next to her, edges of Eugene’s body kept flickering into pixels. They both had their hands alight with their respective elements for light. Hearing their boyfriend being attacked with no clue as to who did it or why, it was eating at them. They had passed the bus stop that was closest to the reservation. It was the one that went straight to Seattle, the one that Delsin had been planning on taking.

“If he didn’t make it on the bus, and had left the reservation just before disappearing, then he should be somewhere around here, right?” Eugene said.

Reggie hummed, but it wasn’t a good one. Hanging out with Delsin consequently made them spend some more time with the older brother as well; they recognized that hum. “You’re right, but that’s the problem. My officers have looked all over the place starting from the rez and even going past here, but they haven’t found anything yet. Even the tribe has looked all over and come up with squat.”

Fetch swore under her breath. She started to pick up the pace more into the forest, ignoring her name being called behind her. “Then we gotta get movin’! Look even more!” She wanted to burst into neon and just run all over the area to find Delsin, but Reggie would not have been able to keep up. Plus, moving at that speed had the potential to miss something. Searching for a person was an endeavor that required more precision.

And hell, that thought made her frustrated with herself. Neon was the most precise, something she prided herself about. Failing in being precise and not yet finding Delsin made her grit her teeth. She should have been better than this.

Another ten or so minutes later, and they were at the halfway point between the bus stop and the reservation. Reggie’s flashlight and Fetch and Eugene’s power lights met up with flashlight beams coming towards them. It was the other search group. When the met at the middle, the smaller group could see from the look on the larger group’s faces that they had not been successful.

“Yo, Reg,” a man that neither Fetch nor Eugene recognized in a red sweater called out. “We’ve been out here for hours, and I’m not getting a good feeling. You sure he didn’t make it back to Seattle?”

“No,” Fetch answered for him. “Eugene ‘n I were on a video call with him when he was attacked. He hadn’t made it to the bus stop yet.”

A woman who had on a headlamp, leaving her arms free to cross tightly over her chest, swore. Fetch didn’t know her name, but she recognized her from the several times her and Eugene had been over to the reservation. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hate this. What if some Bio—excuse me, Conduits came after him?” She directed her question at the present Conduits, “You guys are well known, especially being in the news so much. Do you think there are some Conduits that want to hurt him?”

Eugene shared a look with Fetch. He knew what she was thinking and he didn’t like it. “…P-Possibly. Ah, although most Conduits like us, there were a few that we’ve come across, that um, that r-resent us. Why? I dunno…” Curdun Cay had been hell for the years that Eugene had been there. Even though they were all there for the same reason, being Conduits, some turned on others for several reasons. Eugene shivered, remembering the ways he was used against other Conduits. Maybe he had an idea to Delsin’s kidnapping after all. “Uhh, actually, it could have been a Conduit from Curdun Cay that might have resented Delsin. For power, maybe? Or just for ‘siding’ with non-Conduits.”

“…That…actually make some sense,” Reggie frowned. “Helping Delsin against Augustine, we came across some Conduits that hated non-Conduits for not having powers and resented them for being able to go out in public without worrying about being detained like they did. Almost got an ear blown off by one. Don’t ask,” he said when he saw the man in the red sweater open his mouth.

“So we’re looking for a Conduit?”

“Possibly, but that just makes this even harder now,” Reggie replied. He turned towards Fetch and Eugene, “Do you think this Conduit would have been able to take him out of the immediate area? Should I get in contact with the Seattle precincts?”

It wasn’t improbable that could happen. Fetch could travel via burning neon light in the blink of an eye and Eugene could travel from one point of the city to another as fast as it took to send a text or email through his video. Hell, if they really thought about it, flying up and out of the area could be as easy as—

Fetch blinked.

Eugene froze.

The others saw their expressions and grew concerned. Before anyone could ask, Fetch exclaimed, “Flying up! Up!” She grabbed Reggie’s arm that was holding his flashlight and pointed it into the trees, this time much higher than they had been searching before. “You said that your officers were looking all around and found nothing, right? If we’re looking for a Conduit, we also have to look up high!”

The group looked at her like she graced electricity to mankind. One guy in the back of the group slapped his forehead hard.

Reggie, well-versed in doing so as the Sheriff, took charge in the blink of an eye. “Anyone who can’t zip up the trees, go get some ladders from the sheds and the cannery! Grab some more lanterns and keep an eye out. We don’t know if the Conduit is still here!”

Fetch took it upon herself to put herself into use by starting to manifest neon rings around tree branches and trunks here and there to start lighting up the area. Eugene had already lifted himself into the air, producing floating balls of fizzy, glowing pixels where her neon started to wane. The forested area wasn’t a vast maze, but it was dense enough that it was going to take some time.

“Thanks, you two.”

“No need,” Eugene said from above. In a rare tone of confidence, he declared, “We are going to find him if it takes all night. We have to.”

They had to.

Everyone looked high and low for Delsin, growing more and more stressed as time went on without any sign of him. It was close to eleven at night. Even with the aid of his brother’s partners lighting up the area and searching heights that the non-Conduits couldn’t, there was a fear in the back of Reggie’s mind that Delsin could be…

No, don’t think like that, Reggie! He’s strong and can handle himself in bad situations. He’s alive, he sighed. He has to be. Their family was small, and they had already lost their parents. If he lost Delsin too…He wasn’t sure he would make it. Not without his brother in his life. Exhaustion weighed down his body, and it was during times that he worked this late that he was aware he was getting older. He took a moment to lean against a tree, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. Sleep called him, but it would have to wait.

He felt something wet drop on his head, prompting him to rub it away in irritation. It hadn’t rained today, but the night often brought with it dew that clung to the trees that stuck around through the early morning. The temperature had already dropped when the sun went down, but he knew from checking his weather app earlier that it was going to sink to the mid-thirties tonight. Delsin hadn’t been wearing his thicker hoodie when he had left. If he was out here when it got that cold…Reggie didn’t want to think about it. Conduits run warm…right?

Two drops in quick succession fell onto his head and slid down his hairline to his forehead. “Why didn’t I grab a hat or something?” he said as he wiped the water away. “I’m not Delsin, but cold water…on my…head…”

He trailed off, staring at his hand illuminated by his flashlight.

There was liquid on his hand.

It wasn’t water.

There was red smeared on his skin.

“Oh my god.” His heart leapt into his throat. He wrenched himself out of his leaned position against the tree and snapped his head up. His flashlight beam wildly searched for the source, finding it in three seconds. There, at the very top of the tree at least two stories up, was his brother wrapped in a heavy chain against the trunk. From what Reggie could see from his position at the base of the tree, Delsin was unconscious and dangling from the chain like dead weight—please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead. Although he could not make out specific details, he could see injuries all over his face and neck. His vest was gone and his white hoodie…there wasn’t much white left to it.

A dark trail that began from him ran down the tree, just about stopping where Reggie had been standing. Nausea made his stomach churn—that was too much blood. For how long he had been missing, that was more than too much blood. “O-Oh my god, Delsin!”

He called out to the rest of the group, “Guys! Hey, I found Delsin and we need to get him down right now!” Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be able to fly or some shit right now like Delsin or Eugene or Fetch could.

They must have tuned into the panic in his voice because soon a bright burst of pink and orange manifested into Fetch at his side while Eugene coalesced into his physical body, trailing bright blue pixels. Soon after came the rest of the group running to his position. Before any of them could ask where Delsin was, Reggie’s flashlight directed them to him.

“Oh, no,” Eugene breathed, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“D!” Fetch covered her gasp behind her hand.

One of his officers, Markus, swore something that would make a sailor blush and Reggie felt like doing the exact same. “Christ, what did they do to him? How are we going to get him down?” ‘Safely’ was left unsaid yet known to all of them.

“I don’t think our ladders will be able to reach him.”

“Oh my god, how could someone do this to him?”

Marissa turned to Reggie, but he had to squint in order to see her face clearly through the brightness of her headlamp. “If we jostle him too much, we could make any injuries that he has worse. I’ve been studying as a nurse, so I might be able to get him semi-stable enough until we get an ambulance here. And speaking of—”

“On the phone with them now!” one of the other group members said.

Reggie bit his lip. Marissa had a point, but if they didn’t get him down ASAP, then—he didn’t want to think what would happen. “Can either of you two get him down without shaking him up?” he asked Fetch and Eugene.

While being prone to anxiety, Eugene’s nerves were making his it spike hard. His leg was shaking like it was trying to fly off his body. Both Fetch and he could go vertical whenever they wanted; however, the problem was that they weren’t going to be going up a reinforced wall or the side of a building. Trees were flexible if enough force was put upon them and wouldn’t stay still like a concrete wall would. From what he could see, whoever did this to Delsin—Eugene had to swallow a thick anger that was starting to sour his mouth—precariously balanced him in the bend of one of the thicker branches. But, it was high up and an old tree. One wrong move could cause even more damage.

“I, ah,” Eugene started, “I can hover close to him, but my powers aren’t precise like Fetch’s. I’d be able to get up there, but if I tried to break the chain holding him, I…I might end up hurting him.”

Fetch took his hand. Her gaze bore into him with an intensity that he gave back, despite his anxiety. He knew how she was feeling right now: angry, scared, frustrated, worried. “Then fly me up. I’m pretty sure I can balance myself on that branch that’s under him, and you’d just have to be ready to scoop him up.”

He nodded. Determination steadied his limbs enough to kick himself into gear. He manifested his wings behind him, the sharp blue and white washing the surrounding area as thick as the paint Delsin used at home. He pulled on her hand to draw her close. She slung her arm around his shoulder while he secured her using an arm on her waist. They both kept one of their hands free just in case.

Before they took off, Reggie said, “I’m going to go towards the road to direct the EMTs here. The ambulance won’t be able to drive here, so they’re going to have to get here on foot.” And then, tone heavy, “Be careful, please.”

For Delsin, was left unsaid.

“Got it,” Fetch assured him, and with that Eugene glided upwards towards their boyfriend.

It only took a few seconds and then they were right in front of Delsin. Both of them gasped at the state of him, shocked at his appearance—seeing it up close only made him worse. He had the beginnings of deep bruises on his skin, the usual healthy brown tone of it having turned pale. Deep cuts marred his face and his neck, and the ones that weren’t sluggishly leaking were filthy with dried blood and dirt. His beanie was barely clinging on to his head, and underneath, his dark hair was an absolute mess. The brightness of Eugene’s pixels only further illuminated his injuries. There was a large split above his eyebrow, the eye below it swollen like he had taken several punches to that part of his face. His lips were near colorless. There was a thick split at the corner of his mouth. She could see one of his canines. Oh hell. Being this close, she could hear the weak rattling in his chest and see large, shiny dark stains coming from his left side and right shoulder. The stains were the same color as the trail leaking from him down the tree. Blood. So much blood. Too much blood. He looked sick and on death’s door, and it made it hard for Fetch to breathe. She had to bite her lip and forcibly inhale and exhale on counted measures to fend off an anxiety attack that was creeping up on her.

Even fighting against Augustine and D.U.P.s, he’d never looked this bad. This wrong.

“Is..Is he..?”

She reached out a shaky hand to him, and held in a cry at how cold he was. Then, she wanted to let out a sob of relief when she felt a pulse at his neck under her fingers. It was faint and irregular, but a pulse was a pulse and that was what she was going to focus on.

“F-Fetch, Fetch.”

“I know, ‘Gene. God, I-I know. C’mon, we need to help him.”

She felt Eugene nod against her head, using her hair to hide his face for a moment to collect himself. “Right. Right.” Carefully, he deposited her to the thicker branch under the one that was barely holding up Delsin, then positioned himself next to and just under the other man. If Delsin slumped either way, Eugene would be ready with open arms. Under examination, she could see the chain holding him up was looped around him about three times, but not tied or locked in any way. The metal fused together at opposite ends far too clean and seamless to have been dpme with any welding tool.

A metal Conduit’s work, then.

She would be furious later when Delsin was safe and awake.

She would have to focus her powers to a pinpoint release. If she went too fast, the chains would snap instantly, sending Delsin tumbling rough and possibly killing him at the jarring motion. Or worse, she might set the tree and their boyfriend alight if she pushed too much power. The neon Prime took another steadying breath, put her index and middle fingers together, and focused her energy at the tips of her fingers. The air hummed around her as she put all her focus at keeping the beam small, steady, and power levelled. The metal of the chain began to melt and cut under her power slowly. When the thick link was cut about a quarter way through, the chain began to slack. She reached up and held onto Delsin leg to keep him steady while Eugene placed his hands on his shoulders when he started to lean due to the slack.

A few more minutes and she was halfway though.

Smoke began to curl behind the link she was working on, making her swear and tick back her output a bit. But then, it wasn’t enough to cut keep cutting the chain. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck.

Jaw clenched, she had to tick up her output once again. The smoke and smell of hot wood met her nose. Shit. It would just take another minute!

But within that minute, the bark lit up.

“Fuck! Eugene!”

“I got him!”

She slashed her fingers to slice the rest of the chain and used the thickness of her jacket sleeve to slap at the flame. The chain clinked and clanked as it unwound like a snake. They heard it crash down on the ground, but that was the least of their worries. Eugene was quicker than a falling chain, and although he bopped in the air with the sudden added weight, it was thanks to his powers that he was able to stay aloft holding Delsin’s larger body. Slowly, carefully, he began to float back to the ground.

Fetch jumped off the branch, phasing into neon as she ran against the bark of an opposite tree. On the ground, she sat on her knees and extended her arms to her boyfriends who were just out of her reach. She steadied Delsin’s legs first, then she and Eugene maneuvered him so that they were both holding and cradling him in their arms.

Eugene’s hands were stained heavily while Fetch’s manicured ones only began to be painted with Delsin’s blood.

The other two people that had stayed to help—the others had followed Reggie towards the ambulance—were forgotten now that Delsin was in their arms. They could have been ghosts for all Fetch and Eugene cared. For the two, it was just the autumn trees around them, reaching for the skies, and the colorful leaves underneath them, cushioning their knees. One of Eugene’s hands clutched the bottom of Fetch’s jacket while Fetch had one of hers fisted around Delsin’s soiled beanie. They both held Delsin close, too afraid that if they loosened their arms, he would fade away.

Eugene could hear the two other people shout to the returning group that they had finally gotten Delsin out of the tree. In the slight distance, the heavy sounds of EMT’s carrying equipment were drawing closer. Between one breath and the next, he could feel shaking. Was Delsin shaking? Had he been doing that before? He looked at his hand that was cradling the back of Delsin’s neck.

Oh.

Oh, that was him who was shaking.

God. A keening noise escaped him. Suddenly, all the energy he had left him, making him hunch over their boyfriend and one of Fetch’s knees, his face pressed against one of the few clean spots on Delsin’s hoodie covering his abdomen. A strong, yet slender hand rubbed his back. He felt the warmth of Fetch’s body press closer—as if that was even possible—to him as she drew him close. Her warmth was such a stark contrast to Delsin’s coldness that it made it him want to start crying. He hated crying.

“Don’t worry, Delsin,” Fetch whispered as she moved her hand to cup Delsin’s injured, pale cheek. “Help is coming, We have you.”

“We have you,” Eugene echoed.

They would make sure he made it, even if it killed them.

_____________________________________________________________

Delsin came back to the world, only to be met with stiffness, confusion, and pain. Everything in his body ached and it felt like it was made of limp spaghetti. His lungs hurt with every inhale—nearly worse with every exhale—and when his mouth opened to let out a groan, a sharp pulling at his lip made him groan louder.

Where was he? Why…

“Delsin!” two familiar voices exclaimed.

With herculean effort, he opened his eyes, only to screw them back shut when bright light assaulted them. Oh my god, why is the sun inside? He managed to open them a sliver a minute later, thankfully without the stinging. So, he decided, it was safe to open them further. As he did so, he turned his head in the direction he heard the voices exclaim. He was met with the sight of his partners by his bedside.

Bedside? This wasn’t his home. A white band around his wrist, however, told him everything. The hospital, aw fuck.

“Delsin,” his name was repeated, though this time softer, quieter. Fetch was sitting on the edge of the bed near his knees while Eugene was leaning over the rail, close to his abdomen. What made him frown was the expressions on their faces. Fetch’s updo was frayed and falling out, probably due to her messing with it due to stress; it was one of her anxious tics. She looked like she had been crying, eyes red and itch-swollen. Eugene’s glasses were slightly askew like he had been constantly adjusting him, and a quick glance at one of his hands on the rail revealed chewed cuticles. Nerves, then.

He was confused why they looked like that and why he was in so much pain. He slumped down a little and closed his eyes. Racking his brain, he tried to go over everything that had happened to him that he could remember. He had went to Salmon Bay to visit the tribe and spend a week there with Betty and Reggie, he…he had been walking towards the bus stop that would take him back to Seattle…What else? What else…? Ah, he had been having a video call with his partners until…until…

He let out a low, “Shit.”

Right, he had gotten jumped by some crazy metal Conduit.

A metal Conduit whose sister…Delsin had…killed…

His stomach gave a sudden lurch, and he was barely able to make out a, “’M gonna be sick,” before twisting painfully to the side. Thankfully, a lined trashcan had been already next to his bed because he vomited right into it. Each heave made him want to cry because the pain that burst from his side with each one was going to kill him.

Hands rubbed his back, then gently eased him back against the pillows when he was done. After catching his breath, he accepted the cup of ice chips that was given to him with gratitude. It wasn’t water, but sucking on them would get the acrid taste out of his mouth, just slower. “N-Not a good look for me, huh?”

“Oh, Delsin,” Eugene reached out to take the hand not holding the paper cup, tone a mixture of fondness and something else that made Delsin want to hold him. Or be held. Same thing. “Idiot. You’d look great wearing a garbage bag.”

Quiet, Fetch tacked on, “Or, um, without the garbage bag. I’d take that, too.” He would have blushed if not for sensing her discomfort. He wasn’t used to hearing her so shaky and low. He didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it because he knew he was the cause of it.

“I’m sorry,” he said around a piece of ice.

“The only reason I’m not smacking you on the head is because you’re injured, and I don’t want to risk you losing any more braincells,” she frowned at him. “Shut up, it’s not your fault that you got attacked.”

But it is, though. It’s literally all my fault and more. How would they feel knowing he was a murderer?

“Fetch is right,” Eugene said.

“As always.”

“As always,” the angel continued. “You—you can’t think this is your fault, can you? Del, Del, we saw you get tackled. They wanted to hurt you and they did!” His voice cracked at the end.

Delsin looked away.

He didn’t say anything.

His chest throbbed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowly picked up the pace.

“D,” Fetch intoned seriously. “Delsin, you know this isn’t your fault, yeah?”

Eugene hooked a finger around Delsin’s pinky, “Delsin?”

They couldn’t know. They-they couldn’t. They would be disgusted and horrified with him, leave him alone, and never want anything to do with him ever again. He wouldn’t blame them—no one would want to be near a murderer. He could neither hold in the tears that welled in his eyes nor the hitch in his chest. They had to know. They wouldn’t stop asking him.

“H-Hey, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t have a choice, and he hated drawing things out like the plague.

Do it like a bandaid. Rip it off and get it over with. “It’s my fault.” And when he saw them open their mouths to interrupt, “No, no, it is. I-I-I, his sister,” he croaked. “His sister is dead. I k-killed her.”

They blinked at him. He ducked his head because he didn’t want to see the rest of their reactions. The room was quiet all but his shaky breaths and the beeping of his heart monitor. A few more moments passed, and it was at this point where he began to cry outright—he just wanted them to hurry up and leave and stop drawing out this silent torture. Please.

He felt a touch on his chin that raised his head. His wet eyes met theirs, Fetch having moved right next to Eugene. “Delsin Rowe, we know you and we know that’s not exactly what happened.”

It was then that he hunched over himself, covering his eyes with his hand and told them what happened. His side protested with every shuddering breath and gasp, and his tears and crying only made his head hurt worse.

His face was brought to rest in Fetch’s neck as she carded her fingers through his messy hair. Eugene wrapped his arms around both Delsin and Fetch, and Delsin felt him press his hand on his non-injured side. Hair tickled against his ear, Eugene’s face pressed on his shoulder. “That’s not your fault,” Eugene said. The conviction in his voice wasn’t something that was heard often. The injured man latched onto it like a lifeline. “That was an accident, Delsin. We know you’re not a killer—you don’t do that, no.”

“You kept me from killing people, D,” Fetch’s voice was like a warm balm, soothing to the cold fear in his chest. “I coulda kept sniping drug dealers like I used to, but you helped me. We’ve seen you fight—you go out of your way to not kill the stupid D.U.P.s, as much as they probably deserve it. That, what happened to that woman, that wasn’t your fault.”

“It was an accident,” Eugene comforted him.

Delsin swallowed something thick in his throat. Everything hurt and he wanted to just not exist like this just for a few minutes.

“Let it out, D.”

“We have you.”

He felt like he was falling apart at the seams. Another wave of sobbing broke through the dam of his lips. It was going to take a long time to believe what they were telling him, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted to sink further into their embraces and forget for a while. Forget for a long while. He was a big ball of hurt, but he knew that as long as they had him, he would be okay.

Maybe not right now, but eventually.

“I love you guys” he sniffled.

“We love you, too.”

_____________________________________________________________

Published: 12/30/21; Published on Tumblr: 2/3/22

A/N: Good Karma Delsin does his best to do the right thing. He helps people, he disarms assailants, his avoids killing. (I know that if you straight up kill people, you lose karma points.) He is a person who cares, and does so deeply, so something like finding out that he inadvertently killed someone? Oh, that’s gonna fuck with his whole sense of self. He didn’t even kill Augustine even though he really wanted to, but here comes this random Conduit saying he was the cause of his sister’s death? This is something Delsin is going to carry with him for a looong time, poor guy.

#my fics #infamous second son #infamous #delsin rowe #reggie rowe #eugene sims #abigail fetch walker #fetch walker #abigail walker #fetch #delgenetch #whumpmas2021 #amow twelve days of whumpmas #amow #12 days of whumpmas

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pandoradoesotherstuff · 1 year ago

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A/N: Happy early birthday to my beloved @astrandofgold/@ragingdumpsterfire/@leodoodlesstuff!! I hope this Delsin fluff lives up to your expectations and brings you some joy on your special day. 💙❤️💙❤️

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You wake up early to the sound of someone shuffling about your apartment and the kitchen cabinets banging. Which was weird because your roommate wasn't due back for a couple of days. You slip quietly out of bed and crack the door open a peek, relief flooding your body when you see the familiar red beanie of your boyfriend just over the edge of the counter.

You open the door silently, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to notice you. He stands back up after a minute or two with a large plate in his hands and a bag of doughnuts clamped between his teeth. Delsin quickly sets them down when he notices you at last, a lopsided grin gracing his handsome features.

"Morning sweetness. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Only a lot." You tease before walking over and wrapping your arms around him, contentedly breathing in his natural smoke laced musky scent.

"Happy birthday." He says while hugging you tight and dropping a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"Thanks, all the better for seeing you. But what the hell are raiding my cabinets for at this time?"

"I wasn't raiding, I was preparing," he replies with faux innocence. "And besides, you interrupted me. But here." Delsin holds out a takeaway cup of coffee from your favourite place with what looks like "Desmond" scribbled on the side. He then tips the bag of doughnuts out onto the plate rather unceremoniously, sending powered sugar all over the countertop.

"Only the very best breakfast for my dearest side kick on their birthday."

You spend a fun morning with Delsin on the couch drinking coffee, eating the fresh still slightly hot doughnuts, goofing off, and talking about anything and everything in-between. Like how the tribe were doing, how Del almost gives Reggie a heart attack every other day, how your own latest art piece was coming along, and if you needed any more art supplies to help complete it.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd had such a pleasant birthday, and this was only the beginning of the day.

* * * * *

The rest of your day (until you meet Delsin later on in the evening) is spent doing whatever you want. You had the house to yourself with your roommate being gone, so you put on some of your favourite records from your extensive collection and relaxed with some gentle yoga before heading to your small art studio to work on some new portrait pieces. It was a blissful self-indulgent kind of day, and why not, after all, it's not like every day is your birthday!

Before you know it, it's time to get ready for the "big amazing super special birthday surprise" that Delsin has planned, whatever that is. You go for a long shower, making sure to take your time getting ready so you can look your absolute best for him. Picking out the clothes you know he likes best on you and gently applying his favourite scent on your skin.

You're adding the finishing touches when you hear a knock at the front door. Huh, he's early for once. You grab your keys as you make your way over, teasing words dying in your throat when you see how well your boyfriend has cleaned up. He wore a red checkered shirt, with a black waistcoat, black faded jeans that were ripped at the knees, and his usual sneakers. But the thing that surprised you most was that he wasn't wearing the red beanie that was usually glued to his dead. Instead, his chin length glossy black hair was down and loose, framing his face perfectly.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you can't say a single word, just staring at him open-mouthed. Delsin grins sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Like what you see, sweetness?" He teases. You finally close your mouth, heat colouring your cheeks, eyes looking anywhere except at him with embarrassment.

"What do you think?" You mumble rhetorically, looking down at the floor.

"You're not looking so bad yourself." He pulls you in for a kiss before you can even say anything else. His lips catch yours sweetly, hands resting lightly on your hips as you taste coffee on his breath. You can't resist bringing your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through the silky strands. He finally pulls back, eyes a little darker as he looks down at you.

"We should get going before I change my mind".

You can't help but laugh as he grabs your hand and quickly leads you away.

* * * * *

You walk hand in hand with Delsin through the city as the sun starts to slowly sink in the sky, bathing everything in red and orange light. It was a fun journey, Del sharing heroic (and probably slightly exaggerated) stories of his escapades as "Banner man". After a short while you reach the ruins of the space needle, you can't help but look up in awe at the sheer size of it.

"Ready for a ride?" Delsin smirks.

"Huh?" You don't even get the chance to answer as he scoops you up immediately into his arms bridal style.

"Hold tight!" In a streak of smoke and light, your conduit boyfriend takes off, leaping from structure to structure, climbing higher and higher up the tower as you cling tightly around his neck. Giggling slightly hysterically all the while.

"Aaaand, we're here! You can quit strangling me now sweetness". Delsin gently sits you down, holding on to your waist as you try to stop the world from spinning. It was always something to travel by conduit speed.

You take a deep breath once you feel completely upright again and open your eyes. You're now standing on the large open platform at the top of the tower. The former DUP billboard has been painted over in all your favourite colours. It's bright and bold with a large elegant looping script that reads "happy fucking birthday!". Delsin takes hold of your hand gently, leading you over to a small round table set up with an intimate candlelight dinner for two.

"Del, I...-"

"-As much as I love to hear you praising me, this is only the beginning. So just hold that thought, alright?"

You playfully roll your eyes before his lips meet yours, silencing any other thoughts you may have had. His large hands pull your body in close to his, your arms coming up round his neck again, bodies swaying to music only you both can hear as your lips work together softly, telling silent secrets that only lovers know. Delsin pulls back with a soft expression that was only for you. Everything was always for you. He's looking at you like you're the only thing in existence, and for a moment, you believe it.

.......Until fireworks start going off nearby, breaking the spell.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, laughing to yourself before turning to watch the show. They bang and pop loudly, exploding into flowers of bright neon colours in the night sky. Delsin kisses your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you.

"Happy birthday sweetness".

#infamous second son #delsin rowe x reader #delsin rowe #delsin rowe fic #happy birthday early leo!! 🥳🥳

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ragingdumpsterfire · 2 years ago

Text

[Delsin Rowe x Female OC]

Sirens shrieked in the cold Seattle air, surveillance cameras blaring their alarms. The noise drowned out the chatting pedestrians, and an oversized military vehicle pulled up to the vicinity, earning an annoyed glance from the bystanders. Juno glanced up from her phone, locating the flashing lights. Shit. She watches them for a moment, blue eyes scanning the situation, heart sinking when the vehicle stops and boots hit the ground. Loud voices come from over the walkie talkies of the DUP agents, and she can hear their next target: a female bioterrorist. Juno feels her stomach turn as she panics and thinks back over the last week. Have I used my power in front of anyone? She couldn’t think of anything that would have incriminated her. Hell, she didn’t even like to use her abilities outside of her apartment. Discreetly turning around and working her way through the crowd, Juno quickened her pace to try and find an alley to leave the DUP’s search area. Even if she wasn’t the target, the DUP were known to attack first and ask later.

Success. Nestled between two tall buildings was a little brick-lined alley. Juno ducked down into the alley and broke out into a brisk jog, mentally calculating where the end of the alley came out. Shouting from the DUP agents grew faint, and Juno slowed her pace as she came to the end of the alley. She let out a sigh as she rounded the corner, her nerves were finally calming down. She hated the DUP more than anything. An organization targeting entire cities on the basis of rumors, snatching and shooting at people from the streets. Neighbors reporting neighbors over petty disputes, citizens missing out of the blue, lives being ruined.

“Arrogant asshol—“ left her mouth, but the words stopped abruptly as her body collided with a solid form. Juno was slightly stunned, then judging by the grunting she now heard, the realization sunk in that she had collided with a person.

“Ouch”, a warm voice chuckled, “arrogant I can handle, but asshole? I’m hurt.” A mischievous face looked down on Juno, soft brown eyes with a hint of trouble gazing down at her. A lopsided smirk turned into a grin at the sight of the tiny woman now falling back, and a large hand reached out to help stabilize her.

“Oh my god,” Juno whispered, face burning as she grabbed the offered hand, slightly phased. “I’m so sorry—oh my god I can’t believe I ran into you.” After confirming that Juno was stable on her feet, the man’s tattooed arm went back to his side, and Juno‘s own hands ran through her hair nervously, biting her lip as she stared a hole into the stranger’s black sneakers.

“Hey, it’s all good,” said the man, a metallic clanking sound filling the air. “You didn’t hurt me, but my project’s another story.”

Juno’s eyes shot up at the words, a small oh emitting from her when she saw the context of the statement. The man she ran in to had been spray painting the wall, intricate details of a portrait, bold colors creating a poignant message. And now across the entirety of it, one long messy line of red. Because she ran into him.

A long groan left Juno, and she glanced up at him. He wasn’t upset, his body language said that much. His hands were resting up behind his head, dark hair sticking out from under a maroon beanie. His entire appearance was relaxed, from his ripped up vest to his paint-spattered jeans. There was a gleam of mischief behind his brown eyes, his mouth turned up in a smirk, and he exuded boyish charm. There was no trace of irritation with Juno over the ruined artwork. On the contrary, he looked amused by the whole thing.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Juno began, “if there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me. I feel so awful about this, I-I was trying to avoid the uh…”

Juno trailed off, gesturing with a thumb behind her, the sirens just audible in the alley. The man chuckled, and began surveying his freshly marred artwork. “Yeah, I hate those assholes too.” Juno watched as he sprayed tactfully over the red, making it less obvious.

He worked so fluidly, the paint can seemed like an extension of himself. Juno became caught up watching him work, the final piece evolving from its original intention. Her focus returned when the artist in front of her cleared his throat and broke the silence. “So, if you really want to help, how about you come by when I do my next painting? Come hold stencils, shake cans, watch the great master at work.” He glanced back at her with a grin. “How’s that sound, Miss Altruist?” Juno felt her face flush under his gaze, and she nodded, slowly at first and then a little more enthusiastically. “Yeah….yeah, that sounds great!”

With a final flourish of his paint can, the man next to Juno gestured behind her, and the two stepped back to take in the finished painting. It was a bold message to the DUP, a message of defiance and spirit, and aesthetically pleasing to top it all. Juno glanced over at the artist, taking in his satisfaction. He wiped his hands on his pants, adding a few more spots of paint to them. Juno hadn’t noticed before, but he had spent time altering the denim vest he wore over his gray sweatshirt. Despite his carefree demeanor, Juno realized that his attention to detail must have been something he used in every aspect of his life.

“So….my name is Juno. Figured you should know that since I’m now your new assistant.” This earned Juno a laugh. It also sent a curious sensation through her stomach. “Well then, new assistant Juno. I’m Delsin,” he stated a little formally, shooting her a grin. “You can call me Del….or Mr. Awesome Manager Delsin. Whatever works for you.”

Juno shot Delsin a thumbs up as she laughed at the goofy expression he made. “You got it, Mister Manager.”

Both Delsin and Juno couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous exchange. With the sun reaching their spot, Juno noticed how Delsin’s eyelashes framed his dark brown eyes, and the way sunlight showed various shades of chocolate hues. The way he looked down at her, grin softening to an honest smile. The way he looked down at her…the way he looked down at her. Juno’s face flushed with the sudden realization of the way he was gazing down at her, and broke the eye contact. Delsin must have had the same realization because he suddenly cleared his throat, looking back at the art on the wall next to them.

“If you want to give me your phone,” Juno stammered, “I can put my number in so you can let me know when you work on your next project.”

Delsin looked slightly shocked by the fact that she actually accepted his offer, but pulled his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans, unlocked it, and handed it over nevertheless.

“You’re not just gonna take off with it and run, are you?”

Juno scoffed at the idea as she grabbed the phone, ignoring Delsin’s fake suspicious glare.

“And…..there!” Juno stated, having entered her info on the phone, and handed it back to Delsin. For a brief moment, their fingertips brush, skin against skin. Delsin hesitated before taking the phone from Juno, as if thinking better of removing the sensation. The warmth of his skin coursed waves of something through Juno, and she suddenly became acutely aware of the missing warmth once he removed his touch.

The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the quiet of the lingering sunset casting a glow down the alley.

“Well…I guess I should head out,” Juno said, giving Delsin a small smile. “I think the DUP are gone now, and I’ve got a hungry cat waiting for me at home.” A pause, then she continued. “So…anyway…you’ll text me when you work on your next project?” She mentally cringed at how overly expectant that came out.

Delsin raised a hand, giving a finger gun, and winked her way.

“You bet! It’s a date, assistant.”

This little action, these three little words, lit up Juno’s face. She gave a small salute, and turned to leave, taking one last glance at his face. Her shoes seem heavy, heavier than they were this morning. “See you later, Delsin.”

Delsin. Delsin. Yeah, Juno liked saying that name.

…

As Juno rounded the corner, waving from down the alley before disappearing, Delsin removed his beanie and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a humored sigh. Quietly, he murmured to himself.

“Del, man, you just met her. C’mon, chill, she might not even be into you.”

Delsin was left standing in the alley, looking at nothing in particular, lost in thought. His hands hung at his side, absently tapping on his legs. Suddenly, he remembered his phone, and pulled it out to look at the new contact.

Juno Moore, Quality Control and Assistant Awesome Manager

He let out a laugh, a smile playing on his lips. “God damn…that girl is amazing.”

[My first rambling bit about my OC and Delsin! I’m still trying to get the hang of writing Delsin, and it’s been so long since I wrote anything substantial, so I hope this was okay! If you want to know about my girl Juno, here is some info about her.]

#infamous second son #delsin Rowe #infamous fic #Delsin Rowe x oc #Infamous oc #Delsin Rowe fic #oc juno #Juno #oc story #Juno Moore

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sincerly-kate · 3 years ago

Note

For writing commissions, what fandoms do you write for? :3

Thanks for asking! Here's the list:

Video Games:

The Last of Us (Part 1 and 2)

Resident Evil Village

Infamous: Second Son

Detroit Become Human

Sally Face

TV shows:

Arcane

Supernatural

Sherlock (BBC)

Doctor Who

Law and Order: Special Victims Unit

Good Omens

Peacemaker

Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Merlin

Gotham

The Walking Dead

Scream (MTV Series)

Witcher

Brooklyn 99

Prodigal Son

Umbrella Academy

Daredevil

Punisher

Moon Knight

Mandalorian

Criminal Minds

Hannibal

Movies:

Marvel

Pirates of the Caribbean

X-men

Alice in Wonderland

John Wick

Star Wars

That's all I can think of off the top of my head, but in summary:

You name it, I can most likely do it! 💙

Thanks to everyone who's interested in helping me out, I truly appreciate it! 💙💙

-Kate

#kate speaks #fanfic #good omens #anthony j crowley x reader #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x reader #delsin rowe x reader #fatws fics #the last of us fic #fic request

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cardiaccadillac · 3 years ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: inFAMOUS: Second Son Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Delsin Rowe & Reggie Rowe Characters: Delsin Rowe, Reggie Rowe Additional Tags: Brothers, Yup this dynamic got me again, Whump, CPR Summary:

Conduit: a channel through which something is conveyed. But too much, too fast, and the conduit will break. Reggie is there to witness the consequence of that. Delsin isn’t conscious to see it.

Author’s comment: @biblichor and I have stumbled into this fandom and I have a lot of feelings about the brothers’ dynamic here. Of course, I’m weak for whump with emotions too. So here.

#my fic #infamous second son #reggie rowe #delsin rowe #whump #angst

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infamoussparks · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 7: Sound Choices

Approx. 4800 words; 30 minute read

“Doves…” Fetch tensed as she spit the name from clenched teeth, neon dancing at the ready behind her fingertips. Delsin held an arm out as though both protecting and preventing Fetch from making the first move.

“Ms. Walker. Pleasure to see you again,” Celia spoke nonchalantly from behind her rabbit mask, her head tilting in an uneasy fashion, “And you as well, Mr. Rowe.”

“I’ll help where I can,” Rosaline was in the office and speaking to Eugene while the screen of the laptop reflected off each pair of glasses.

Fetch was discussing something quietly with Delsin at the other side of the desk. It didn’t seem too heated at the moment but it definitely gave off the impression of being a super serious conversation between the two.

Benji sighed softly to himself as he sat on the couch beside Caly. He offered her markers and paper and they were drawing together to keep the kid occupied. Caly seemed content to be in a room full of adults and was now wearing one of Benji’s t-shirts. She hadn’t exactly been dropped off with clothes of her own and Rosaline had seemed too busy to bring anything extra for the small child, but Benji had plenty of t-shirts and didn’t mind sharing one with the tiny girl. It looked like an oversized dress on her and Caly rocked the look regardless.

“I like that kitty, Caly!” Benji grinned and added some orange color to the small cat-shaped art Caly was drawing. She flashed a huge smile at Benji and seemed to appreciate that he recognized the animal so quickly. She went to clap or sign but the paper fell to the floor off the couch and she immediately reached for it, nearly falling off the couch herself. Benji reacted quickly, grabbing her by her outfit which pulled the shirt up slightly but saved Caly from a scary tumble to the concrete floor.

“I’ll get the paper, Caly,” Benji spoke softly as he retrieved the paper from the floor and then knelt before the toddler, “Are you ok?”

Caly nodded but her face looked twisted as though the fear of what had nearly happened was settling in. Benji scooted himself back to the couch and right up against the small child before he realized some of the markers were uncapped and had accidentally left a mark on Caly’s leg. He reached out to wipe away the lines before he noticed a black smudge that wasn’t exactly going anywhere… and it looked familiar somehow.

“Hey… uh, guys?” Four pairs of adult eyes came to rest on Benji, “I think you need to see this…”

Eugene narrowed his eyes at the mark that Benji had found on Caly’s thigh. “Is that a… a QR code?”

“What?” Fetch was making her way toward the couch now with a look of intense curiosity. Delsin stayed where he was and Benji watched as Delsin exchanged some sort of look with Rosaline.

The shutter noise of Eugene’s phone brought Benji’s attention back to Caly, who was still drawing on the paper and ignoring the attention. Strange, Benji thought to himself. She definitely doesn't act like a 4-year old.

“I think this is coming up with a backdoor to Stratego’s website. Hang on a minute,” Eugene was looking at a basic encrypted website on his phone and he moved back to the laptop to scan the photo he took of the QR code with this bigger screen. In a minute he had the website up for everyone to look at on the laptop.

Delsin was running a hand through his hair, his beanie in his other hand suddenly as he seemed to be processing this information. Rosaline was studying Caly in silence. Fetch was pacing the room, her black boots moving back and forth in front of the couch. Benji took it all in while wondering what was going on. He hadn’t heard the name “Stratego” before.

“Can you hack it from there? Looks like you need a password,” Delsin pointed out the obvious.

“Yeah, I’m on it. I can also compare the code from this page to the code on the main website to see if I can find anything to help me with this. I’ve got this, Del,” Eugene said. The laptop screen showed a basic website login screen that was an odd crimson color and had an owl logo near the top, in the center. Below that was the word “WELCOME” and then below that was a white field with a blinking cursor clearly waiting for the correct password to grant access to whatever was stored here. Benji suddenly felt uneasy, like maybe he shouldn’t be here for this part of the discussion.

Before he could mention anything about possibly leaving the office, Fetch sat on the other side of Caly and caught Benji’s eyes, “This stays here, not out there. Top secret stuff. Understand?”

Benji nodded. He was stuck now and he knew it.

But it did feel good to be trusted with whatever this was. It gave him a little bit of a boost as a potential hero-in-training.

Suddenly, everyone was talking over one another. Commands, lists, ideas, strategizing. It was a little overwhelming and Benji was lost in the sounds of voices all speaking at once. He turned his attention to Caly, who had been focused on her drawing but was suddenly frozen, a marker in her grip leaving a mark on her paper that was bleeding and spreading as the ink continued to flow. He went to reach for her hand but before he could touch it, Caly let go of the marker and it fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up and was suddenly was hit with a wave of calm. As if everything was going to be okay. As if everything was going to work out just as planned.

He sat back and handed the marker to Caly and she shook her head at him as she hummed softly. She seemed to have switched from art to music. That seemed right to Benji, somehow.

“... but they marked her? With a tattoo?” Fetch looked angry, gesturing to Caly from her seated space on the other side of the girl.

“It’s not an ordinary tattoo.”

“What do you mean, Dr. Hutch?” Eugene asked over the top of the laptop screen. He was typing furiously but Benji couldn’t see what was on screen now, he only assumed as much from the amount of typing sounds he heard.

“Kids grow too fast to tattoo so young. The design would stretch and be unrecognizable in a few weeks, if not sooner. That has to be the work of a conduit,” Rosaline spoke and her hazel eyes were fixed on Caly, “Maybe an ink user? Or someone who could alter pigments within the skin?”

Caly’s soft humming was slowly becoming louder and Benji looked from Rosaline to Fetch. Fetch eased herself back into the cushions on the couch and closed her eyes for a moment. She seemed to be relaxing instead of remaining heated from the discovery.

“Of course. They had conduits there, they could have been using them on each other too. Like in Curdun,” Delsin grumbled and strode closer to Eugene behind the desk. Rosaline stepped to the side to allow Delsin some space between them.

Rosaline’s voice was quieter now as she spoke up, “This website may not only have a backdoor to Stratego, but a way to learn more about Caly?”

Now everyone seemed to be exchanging glances. Rosaline yawned suddenly and pulled the desk chair over as she dropped into it. Eugene’s typing seemed to be slowing as well and Delsin replaced his beanie on his head with a half-hearted motion.

“It’s possible,” Eugene said, “I’m so tired though. Could we break for coffee?”

Fetch straightened from her spot on the couch, “You too? I thought it was just me.”

“Definitely not just you. I’m ready for a whole nap,” Benji chimed in.

Then everyone seemed to realize at once as five pairs of eyes fell on Caly, humming from her seat. She gave them the biggest smile, content that the room seemed calm and quiet again. Her humming stopped abruptly and the edge of sleep stopped just as quickly.

Now everyone was looking wide-eyed at everyone else.

“Holy shhh–” Fetch cut herself off, but everyone was thinking the same thing. Immediately, coffee and doubling down on hacking this website seemed to be the first priority in the room.

It had been several hours and Eugene felt like he was on the edge of cracking the code. Or cracking up with insanity. It was hard to tell which. Delsin, Fetch, Benji and Caly had left long ago, each with their own agendas, but Eugene had coffee and he had Rosaline, oddly enough. The doctor had decided to stay to try to figure out the password based on what she knew about Caly. Nothing had worked so far but neither conduit was any closer to giving up, either.

“Would you help me with something, Eugene?”

Eugene sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee and letting his eyes rest, looking away from the screen for a moment, “What’s on your mind?”

Rosaline perched slightly on the edge of the desk, “Remember how you offered to assist me with… expanding my powers? Or getting to understand my limits?”

Eugene nodded.

“I’ve… heard some whispers in the hallways in regard to trust and the school itself. I would be willing to test my limits with possibly calming the situation, if you’ll grant me time to explore my abilities.”

“Ah, yeah,” Eugene sighed, “We’ve had some unfortunate instances lately with a group of conduits who seem intent on pulling the warehouse into chaos. Delsin, Fetch and I have done our best to avoid any issues, but we’re seeing more students off campus than on these days and that’s worrying.”

“Let me try. I may predominantly work with babies but I know a few things about the human condition as well. It comes in handy for working with adults and I would be willing to try to use what I know here as well.” Rosaline held her coffee in her hands, twisting the cup slowly as she spoke.

Eugene contemplated her offer. It wouldn’t hurt to have her try. And if anything, her abilities could be an amazing boon to the warehouse team overall. “I’ll have to run it by Del and Fetch, but I have a feeling they’ll oblige.”

Rosaline offered a small smile, “I hope they do. After everything the warehouse has done for Caly and myself, this would be a small way I could repay my debt.”

“You don’t owe us anything, Rosaline. I hope you know that.”

Rosaline nodded but Eugene could see her mind was made up and she was here to help for as long as she would be useful to the team. He was secretly relieved about that because after everything they had come across in such a short amount of time it seemed that getting help on their side was as important as ever.

Eugene took his phone from beside the laptop and sent a text to the group chat consisting of the heroes of Seattle with Rosaline’s proposition. He received a text back immediately from Delsin who was in. Fetch did not reply, but she had never been much of a phone person. He put his phone down and turned his attention to the laptop. He had the new backdoor Stratego website up in one window and the code for the website in another. He was scrolling the code when he had a thought and brought the website to the forefront. He moved his cursor into the password box and typed in a single word. Then he released a shout of accomplishment. The password was cracked and the website began to load the next page.

Rosaline moved to stand directly behind Eugene as the website loaded and Eugene made a note on some scratch paper on the desk, circling a single word.

“That’s her. That’s Caly,” Rosaline breathed as she neared the screen from over Eugene’s shoulder. The video conduit pulled his attention back to the screen and there he saw a photo of Caly and a blog of sorts with information and updates on her status. He started to scroll through but noted that a lot of the experiments were heavily detailed and he instead closed the laptop before Rosaline could read forward too far.

“I’ll show this to the group. I’m glad we have this though. Hopefully I can use it to discover more about the team behind Stratego and what their goals were. Also, this gives me a way to get information on a potential… criminal,” Eugene spoke carefully, choosing his words slowly as he sat back in his chair. He could use this new database to aid him in a search for records on the other ‘Projects’ kept by Stratego. He could try to find information on whoever Cindy Signet was too. This could help answer so many questions.

Rosaline seemed curious as she raised a single eyebrow but said nothing.

“I think…” Eugene hummed, “that you should join me in the training room. If just to show you where it is and how we run powers in there. Plus, I could use a good stretch.”

Rosaline contemplated the offer and checked her watch, noting the time. “Alright. I could use more coffee afterward.”

Eugene chuckled, “I can help with that. Follow me.”

Rosaline followed behind Eugene, leaving the laptop in the safety of the office while Eugene ran scenarios in his mind that could be used to help Rosaline push her powers or encounter new ones. He didn’t know much about magnification and he was curious to find out more about it from the doctor at his heels.

It was late afternoon and Delsin and Fetch were atop the roof of the warehouse meeting up for what felt like the millionth time that day. Fetch was tired and hungry, the day fallen to plans and schemes built around what-if scenarios that may never come to pass. She watched Delsin send a text to a new group of people pulled from his contacts–two new additions to the normal office team that now made up the new “Stratego Situation” group. Her phone buzzed lightly in her back pocket and she didn’t bother to fish it out, already knowing Delsin was summoning Eugene, Rosaline and Benji to the rooftop.

So it didn’t make her feel any better when a familiar tingle lit the hairs at the back of her neck in a timely interruption of the oncoming discussion. A swirl of paper fragments wove between them, fluttering quickly before coming to rest at the top of a capped exhaust stack, revealing Celia in their wake.

“Ms. Walker. Pleasure to see you again,” Celia spoke nonchalantly from behind her rabbit mask, her head tilting in an uneasy fashion, “And you as well, Mr. Rowe.”

“Celia. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Delsin spoke harshly but did not move his arm from in front of Fetch. She growled lowly behind him, clearly frustrated with the forced patience.

Celia hummed softly not bothering to move from her perch as she addressed the question. “I want the same thing you do, Delsin Rowe. I want freedom for our kind. I want us to be in full control. Isn’t that something you still want, too? Isn’t that the final outcome for this place, your warehouse? Your school?”

“What? No, that’s so–”

“Fetch.” Delsin snapped her name and the neon user bit her tongue. She glanced between Celia and Delsin from her space slightly behind him and felt her anger blooming in her chest.

“Celia, I don’t think you understand,” Delsin started again, “That was the past. I was younger, we were both younger then. Now we have the world at our powered fingertips and all I want is for people like us to feel accepted and acknowledged without feeling afraid of who they are.”

Celia laughed. It sounded cold and empty. “And you train them to build their power so they can hide it for the rest of their lives? I think you can do so much better than that.”

There was a sound of commotion from below and Fetch heard Delsin curse under his breath. There was a clatter of what sounded like multiple powers clashing at ground level and Fetch realized too late that Celia was only a distraction.

“Maybe you should take a few minutes to really look at what you want from this idea of yours; are you helping your students or are they simply pawns in your version of Curdun Cay?” Celia tossed out a single hand and a whip of paper shot through the air at blinding speed. Delsin and Fetch both leaped away from one another to avoid the attack. Fetch shot neon in response, her missiles of bright light finding their mark just a second too late as Celia leaped over them and landed a few feet away on the rooftop.

Celia shouted, “You owe me a thank you for taking down Stratego, by the way. I hadn’t known that faction was still operating. It’s as dead as our enemies now.”

“We don’t owe you anything, Doves!” Fetch shouted in response. With the chaos erupting below and now on the roof, Fetch readied a new shot but Delsin told her to hold. She did as she was instructed and then Eugene was at her side, angels of blue pixels lining up before the Heroes for added defense and support. Celia cocked her head, her mask tilting to one side before she laughed again. This time it sounded full of vitriol. And then she vanished in a swirl of paper speeding toward the opposite end of the rooftop.

A scream from below had Eugene gasp and he looked over at an angel who was hovering just off the side of the building. A flash of steel wings glinted with the sunlight as a male student flew up to the roof. He was panting slightly, a grimace on his freckled face, “She’s back. The poison one.”

A splash of water was heard over a rupture of shouts and then the steel wings folded and the male student took a calculated dive from his height. Fetch huffed at seeing Brent and knowing his twin sister, Jean, was bringing water to a gas fight. This wasn’t going to plan. At all.

“Celia brought her friends. Of course she would. What is she after?” Fetch hissed and flared her neon at her hands. Colors of pink and yellow arched up her arms.

“Caly. I think.” Everyone turned around and faced Benji who was rolling his shoulders and standing behind them on the roof. “I ran into Rosaline on the way up here and she said Eugene told her to get Caly and stay in the training room.”

“I did. When Rosaline and I got to the rooftop door I could see Celia and I sent her back downstairs,” Eugene confirmed.

“Great,” Delsin griped and then blew out a rush of air before quickly forming a plan, “Eugene, with me. We’ll tail Celia. Fetch? You take Benji and go after the intruder. Everyone protect Rosaline and Caly at all costs.”

Before anyone could alter the plan, Delsin was off rushing in a trail of smoke toward Celia’s game of chase, Eugene and his angels regrouping and falling in line behind him.

“Sure, Smokes. You and Gameboy go after Doves. I’ve got Hazard.” Fetch was furious, fists balled up at her side as neon licked up her arms. But she was ready this time. She knew what was at stake. She knew Hazard’s ability and how to counter it now. She wouldn’t be caught off guard, not again. Never again.

Having Benji with her was a risk but he had an incredible power and a plan started forming as Fetch nodded to him and bolted off in the opposite direction, Benji following her closely as he utilized his parkour skills to the fullest of his abilities leaping over items on the roof with ease.

“How much power do you have stored up?” Fetch dropped into a crouch at the edge of the rooftop, surveying for Hazard below. A burst of neon green gas caught her focus and she narrowed her eyes, tracking the girl like a trained sniper. Old habits die hard.

Benji crouched next to Fetch on the rooftop, “I’m full.”

Fetch cocked an eyebrow and then rolled her right shoulder backwards, loosening up for the battle ahead, “Good. On my signal I’m gonna need a full blackout. Think you can handle that?”

“A full blackout? But it’ll affect you, too. Are you–”

“Benji. You wanna be a hero? Sometimes you gotta trust your instincts and choose the lesser evil. Hazard is a menace and I can handle a little darkness.”

Benji worried his lip for a moment before nodding and taking a deep breath. Fetch watched him carefully and then stood tall and strong, looking focused and calm.

“Follow me, but keep to the rooftops and out of sight. On my signal, full blackout. No hesitation,” Fetch shook out her arms and legs and tested her knees. She was ready to spring to the ground from this distance with her brilliant neon on full display, “And if things go wrong, don’t let Hazard get too close. Keep her as far from you as possible.”

Fetch tracked the neon green bursts for a moment longer before dropping to the ground in a bright display of her own neon colors. She had planned for this location drop and was smirking with satisfaction when the poison girl flit right into place. Hazard paused in her movements, turning to face Fetch with all the confidence of a bird with puffed feathers. She shifted her goggles up over her fringe and gave Fetch the biggest grin.

“I see you woke up! I hope you enjoyed your timeout, Neon Princess.” Makayla hissed out the name like a slur.

“I’m back for my rematch, Hazard,” Fetch snarled in response.

“‘Hazard’? I like that one. Thanks,” Makayla inspected her fingernails for a moment and Fetch tensed seeing the girl bring her hand close to her face in such a familiar move.

Fetch let off a missile of neon directed at the girl before her and it landed at her feet. Makayla leapt backwards, dropping her hand and the toxic gas with it. Without direction, the gas was useless and dissipated quickly into the air. Makayla frowned with the distraction.

“Okay, fine. You’re on. But you’ll have to do better than that, Fetch.”

Fetch straightened her posture, her hands flicking forward with neon ebbing and flowing like waves around her arms. “I never miss my mark.”

Makayla reached up and quickly adjusted her goggles back into place over her amber eyes. She smirked and seemed to welcome the challenge. Then she acted. A blast of green gas was forced toward Fetch but the neon user was quicker and tossed up a shield which lasted long enough to prevent the gas from being breathed in as intended. Makayla took another leap backwards and quickly glanced behind herself. Fetch was all rough edges now, colored in neon light and looking more dangerous by the second. But this spot was perfect as it was the back wall of the warehouse with no place to run. A deadend. Makayla would need to rush past her to get free, or use a new trick.

Fetch wouldn’t let either happen. Revenge was on her tongue and it tasted bittersweet.

Makayla blew more gas toward Fetch, but the neon user instead wasted no time and raised one arm to the sky, releasing a blast of Neon straight into the air. Fetch watched as Makayla flinched and then followed the neon blast with her eyes before she burst out laughing.

“I thought you said you never miss? I’m right here!”

Fetch shrugged, “Maybe I wasn’t aiming for you.”

Makayla stopped laughing immediately and started looking around for anything that would be broken or could possibly trap her right here. Fetch watched as the girl started to slowly be swallowed in a dense fog that was building from the ground up. As it came for her as well, Fetch crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

Benji wasn’t sure what the signal would be but when he saw the neon flare fly straight past him into the air, he knew. He crouched on the rooftop and dug deep into himself. Using his power always made him feel uneasy and nauseous. He hated his specific power. It had always been one thing to be teased about his skin tone and how he “blended into shadows” or “disappeared at nightfall”, but it was another thing entirely to control those shadows now. Controlling the only thing people compared you to in jest was a harsh reminder of how others viewed you. Benji knew not everyone saw him this way and he had been reminded of that when Lucky touched him but it was a hard idea to shake completely.

He shook the feeling of his heart being in a vice grip and poured his focus into calling forth shadow in a way that was an ultimate power move. The shadows rushed from his fingertips and crawled over the edge of the rooftop in a mass of what looked like a shadow waterfall. He could feel when the shadows hit the grass and he pooled and pushed them together, building the shadows into a dense darkness that took over the area and blocked out the light.

Benji worried for a moment about Fetch, but the release of power was a high unmatched and he found he was pushing himself to really make this the best blackout he’d summoned. He would become a true hero, if only by his own standards.

Nothing was coming down. Nothing was loose or shaking. Whatever Fetch had aimed for had missed its mark, of that Makayla was sure. She shook out her hands and started pooling more toxic gas when Fetch seemed to be fading into a fog.

Makayla wiped at her goggles. Sometimes they steamed up when she was in the heat of battle. But the fog didn’t wipe away. Now she shook away her gas from her fingertips and moved the goggles up into her hair. The fog seemed denser and Fetch was surely receding into it. Which is when Makayla looked down at her own hands and noticed the same thing happening to herself. The fog crawled up her body and was slowly pulling her into the darkness.

Panic began to set in.

Makayla swallowed heavily and tried to wave the fog away, but it didn’t budge. The color was slowly shifting from a light gray into a light black, each second passing by in slow motion. The darkness blotting out the sun from overhead and devouring Makayla into shadows she could not escape. A strangled cry came from her throat as the panic took hold and she realized she was fully lost into darkness. Her breathing came in quick heaves, her hands started to shake and her knees collapsed onto the soil beneath her. She realized she was sobbing, wailing quietly to herself as she wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked herself in one place. The darkness was inescapable. This was terrifying.

It was so dark. She could no longer see anything. Not even her own body that she was holding so tightly her fingernails were causing pain to her sides. She was sobbing so much she could feel snot dripping from her nose but she couldn’t regain control here. This was her nightmare come to life.

Then, with an unexplained quickness, the darkness began to recede. It was pulled from her like a million blankets over her head and she gasped for air, a full mess of tears, ruined makeup with snot and spit dripping down her chin.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry…” A voice laced with heavy concern and regret came from her right and she looked quickly in that direction like a wild animal caught in a trap with no place to run. A man stood there, his eyes glowing a soft gray color before he blinked and the shadows disappeared just enough to make out all of his features. His brow furrowed with recognition as he took in her sorry state. “... Makayla? Is that you?”

“Ben–Benji… ?” Makayla choked out his name and then a bright neon blast knocked her backwards into the grass and everything went dark for the second time.

#infamous sparks #infamous fic #infamous second son #infamous oc #delsin rowe #fetch walker #eugene sims #benji duncan #rosaline hutch #caly #makayla grayson #fight fight fight #celia penderghast #big reveals

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