#and in the week since have felt like ive signed my own death sentence

[artificialcats]

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[lailyn]

Take My Breath Away, Part 2

TW: Paralysis

Metro-General Hospital

“I think it’s Guillain-Barre syndrome.”

“Are you sure?” Christine asked in new-found anxiety. "Are you absolutely sure?"

“Of course I’m not,” Stephen said tersely. “I can’t be. But the clinical picture fits. He had the respiratory infection that was going around last week, and the tingling and weakness started today.”

For the hundredth time since he brought Loki in to the emergency room, fully paralysed from the waist down, he cursed himself. “I should have known something was up.”

How could he have missed the signs? The lingering weakness, the unsteady walking, the general malaise that was so out of character for Loki...all of them Stephen had simply put down to a post-viral infection fatigue, instead of something much more serious.

Life-threatening, a voice corrected. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, Stephen. It’s not helping.” Ever the voice of reason, Christine was still the grounding force he had once relied on. “Focus on what’s important.” 

“It’s progressing way too quickly,” Stephen said worriedly, staring through the observation window into the room where Loki was currently resting. 

“He hasn’t consented to assisted ventilation?”

Stephen shook his head, visibly morose. “He hates the idea of being put to sleep.”

“He’s going to tire soon,” Christine warned. “We’re risking respiratory failure.”

“I brought in the big gun.”

Stephen nodded at the tall figure whose silhouette they could see pacing Loki’s room like a caged tiger. “Let’s hope Thor can knock some sense into his brother.”

***************************

“Brother, you are clearly struggling. Why are you giving the doctors a difficult time?”

Loki refused to answer. He was not wasting precious breath explaining his reasoning, unreasonable as it may be, to someone so adamant in his mission to subjugate Loki to the mercy of doctors, human doctors who knew nothing about his kind.

"Loki, we don't have much time."

"There is no 'we' here, Doctor Banner."

Loki turned his head slowly to the other figure in the far corner of the room. 

Like a Shadow. Like Death. Just standing there waiting. 

“There is no treatment. You said so yourself.” Loki closed his eyes. He did not wish to see Thor's expression. Also, the double vision was worsening. “They can do nothing."

“Human immunoglobulin therapy is incompatible, and we are risking anaphylaxis with artificial plasma exchange,” Bruce repeated the conversation he had with Stephen word for word. "But there's still something we can do to help you tide this over - "

"There is no tiding over anything," Loki said in frustration; if he had the strength, he would have ripped out the oxygen-delivering cannula from his nose. "What you are doing is merely prolonging the inevitable."

"Going on life support is not a death sentence, Loki," Bruce said, his voice hard. 

"None of you can tell me with absolute certainty when you can take me off it," Loki rasped. "What was the 'ballpark' figure again? Weeks to month? No."

The outburst cost Loki energy he could not afford, and the harsh sounds of his gasps drowned the noises of the machines.

"Brother!" Stricken, Thor dropped into the chair and grasped Loki's shoulder. "Save your strength."

The wiry cords of muscles of Loki's normally slender neck bulged as the Asgardian struggled to pull air into his starving lungs, and Bruce could not help but stare. Soon, those muscles too, like the respiratory muscles in his thorax and diaphragm, would cease to function. 

When one's own immune system attacks one's own nerves, the result is devastating, Stephen had said. 

"I'm calling Strange," Bruce said.

“No, you are not,” Loki gasped. “I will not be put down like some kind of animal."

If Loki had seen the devastation in Stephen's eyes the moment Bruce told him they simply did not have enough of Loki's blood sequestered in storage for emergencies such as this, Loki would be singing a different tune.

"Stop being such an idiot," Bruce snapped. "Noone's putting you down, and you are not going to die. Get over yourself and snap out of it!"

Loki's sneer curled into a cruel, ugly smile. "Of course. I had no say in how I lived. How could I expect differently now that I am dying?"

"Loki," Thor growled warningly.

"What will you do, Brother?" Loki asked. "Take Mjolnir to my head? What will you do to force me to submit to you?"

Now that he was calmer, he could breathe easier.

Or perhaps, it was simply a momentary respite, a blessed, temporary relief before…

Before what?

Loki stared at the bright lights over his head and something in him died at the paradox of seeing something so glaring, so full of life, when the rest of his body from the neck down was shutting down.

"I wish to be alone."

***************************

"Any luck?" Stephen asked quietly.

He had pulled some strings and gotten Loki a private room, away from the public eye. It was good thinking on his part, for the expression on Thor and Bruce's faces as they stepped out of the room and into the hallway could only be described as murderous.

"There's no getting through to him," Bruce fumed. The physicist looked furious enough to punch a hole through the hospital wall, and for a precious moment, Stephen felt touched by the sentiment.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "For trying."

Bruce pulled off his glasses and massaged his eyes. "So what do we do now? Just wait till he passes out and then stick a tube down his throat?" 

"Christine would never agree to that." 

"Surely you can do it?" Thor asked. 

"Physically, sure. Medicolegally? Ethically?" Stephen shook his head. "And I would never do that to Loki."

"Can't you make this immunogoblin thing? The one that you said wasn't compatible?" Thor pleaded. 

"IV immunoglobulin's derived from a large pool of plasma collected from thousands of blood donors, Thor," Bruce said glumly. "There's only one of him."

"But we've started saving Loki's blood, have we not?" Thor pressed. "Can't you two work with that?"

"Even if we had the resources to isolate and autotransfuse Loki with his own immunoglobulins, it will not be enough," Stephen said quietly. "And the treatment is only helpful in lessening the severity of the disease." 

"You don't mean…" Thor could not bring himself to complete his sentence.

"There is no known cure for Guillain Barre syndrome."

Thor's jaw gave an abrupt click, before his broad shoulders squared a split-second later. "Then I go to Jotunnheim."

Bruce's head whipped up, and together, the two humans stared at the God of Thunder like he had gone mad. 

"Quill can take me. We're good friends and he has a strong, sturdy ship." Thor's chest swelled in sheer determination. "We set course for Jotunnheim and I will come back with what you need."

Stephen fought to hold on to the last shred of composure, to keep his voice steady, "Loki will not last the night."

Thor turned as white as a sheet and began to shake.

"For Norns' sake, Man, will you not do something?"

The tears brewing in the stormy blue eyes was all the motivation Stephen needed; with a determined nod, he pushed Loki's door open and stepped inside.

***************************

Stephen watched Loki's chest rise and fall, shallow and laboriously slow. 

"I do not fear going to sleep," Loki finally spoke when he could no longer stand the deafening silence. 

"Then what is it?" Stephen begged. "What's got you so scared that you won't even try?"

"I fear coming out of it."

"What?"

Loki's lips wobbled. "I heard what your Christine said, about the possibility of permanent damage."

"Loki, we don't know anything about any of that."

But Loki was not listening, so consumed was he by his delusion. "I fear coming back a cripple. A degenerate."

Stephen could only stare at him, stunned. 

"I was broken when I came to you," Loki said quietly. "I cannot come back broken. Not again."

"You would rather die for fear of something you think's going to happen? Something unknown?" Stephen asked incredulously, the betrayal blatant in his eyes and bitter on his tongue.

"Then tell me something," Loki said softly. "Tell me that something unknown."

"When we first met..." Stephen's thumb danced across the back of Loki's insensate hand. To think that Loki could not feel him anymore, it hurt him beyond reason.

"You asked me how this was all going to end, for us," Stephen recalled. "Do you remember?"

"What about it?" Loki asked, his voice hollow. 

"This is not it," Stephen said, gripping Loki's hand firmly. "This is not how it ends."

Loki's eyes brimmed with tears. "Tell me how."

"I see you and me at the far edge of the world ." Stephen kissed Loki's eyelids, one after the other. "Standing shoulder to shoulder, just us."

"Standing?" Loki echoed breathlessly. 

Stephen nodded, and his own tears landed on the bed, darkening it in places. "At the altar too."

Loki let out a sob. 

"I love you, Loki." A hand grasped the side of his face tenderly. "Whole, broken, I don't care. I just love you."

"As do I," Loki wept silently. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, what with the invisible weight on his chest. "So very much."

Stephen kissed his mouth fiercely, long, hard and desperate.

"So you gotta do this for me. For us." Stephen's forehead felt hot against his. "Okay?"

"Okay." Loki breathed in as deeply as his constricted chest would allow, committing what he could of Stephen's scent to memory. "Okay."

In a matter of minutes, Loki found himself staring up into a pair of hazel eyes, familiar in their kindness, comforting in their confidence.

"We will take good care of you, Prince Loki," Doctor Christine Palmer smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about a thing."

She nodded at someone Loki could not see, and a mask was placed over his face. A sweet-smelling gas began to fill his mouth and Loki coughed weakly. 

"Shhh." A hand he knew very well caressed the top of his head. "Sleep, Brother."

Loki's vision blurred. Shadows merged into swaths of colours, of bright blues and greys.

Stephen.

His tears ran freely down the sides of his face but he could no longer feel them. 

He was floating, and there was no one there where he was going. 

Then he heard a whisper in his ear, "I'll be here when you wake."

There you are, Loki thought, and everything went black. 

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Alabaster: Delicate Dance of Chance IV

 Alabaster found Pax in Camp Othrys, hiding with the laundry bins. There were few places Axel couldn’t smell his little brother out. This laundry room was one of them. A logical choice if Pax wanted to avoid being found. Alabaster almost forfeited his plan at the reek of towels soaked in demigod sweat and monster ooze—all cottony causalities from that morning’s training session.

One blanket trembled in the far corner of the room. Judging from its lack of filth, Pax, fortunately, must have swiped it from a clean pile. The blanket went still when Alabaster stepped alongside of it.

He hoped he hadn’t mistaken his friend for two demigods getting intimate. No. The sheet tucked tight enough to show Pax’s form: his legs curled up and arms folded atop them, looking like the grumpiest B-rate ghost. Alabaster nudged dirty towels away with his foot and settled down beside the blanket.

Alabaster lifted the small paperback from his stack of two books. The cover had a few stains and was a little too dingy for Alabaster to have kept in a library if he was a librarian. He cracked it open. The coarseness of the pages felt wonderful, even if he didn’t prefer the first page’s sketch of a baby. At an utter, a reading rune glowed on his necklace, bringing the font to proper focus.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,” Alabaster read, “They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”

The blanket ghost stopped shaking and sniffling. Alabaster paused in his oration, as though about to turn a page—a ridiculous notion. What book had a page turn after one short paragraph? He berated himself, forgetting the beautiful opening of, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness… The best example of a necessary run-on sentence. Regardless of A Tale of Two Cities, Alabaster had paused here so Pax could comment.

“Is—is that Harry Potter?” Pax squeaked.

Instead of answering, Alabaster continued to read, past the turn of a page, until he came upon the sentence, “It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar—a cat reading a map.” [1]

Alabaster hadn’t meant to stop there. His breath choked. Sphinx, Lelly’s late cat, had been able to read maps. A brilliant Mist form, she’d been able to do so much more than that: a utilitarian helper in the lab and a compassionate friend to his little sister.

For the first time since he, Pax, and Axel had almost been captured by Romans, Alabaster pressed a hand over his mouth. His eyes felt warm. Every time he’d let Lou Ellen cry in his arms, he’d kept focused on his hatred of the Romans and on their own undiscovered traitor. Why, now, with this stupid, juvenile book, did he find himself choking up over the loss? Over a cat that could read a map?

Pax misunderstood his silence as another page break. “You… You said you would only read me books for educational purposes. And, and that Harry Potter was a ‘gross misrepresentation of magic and b-better as a study of plot holes,’” the words came out a rapid jumble of—presumably—snot and hiccups. They were a distracting relief to Alabaster.

“You wanted to read it. No one would read it to you. This is an apology, not for my unrequited feelings, but for the boarish delivery of my response. This is my attempt, over the next seven hours of reading, an hour per evening this week, to prove that nothing needs to change between us, that we can still be friends.”

The sheet ghost crept closer.  “Friends,” Pax echoed, “We’re friends?”

He didn’t even know if we were friends, but was still willing to express his infatuation? Alabaster growled. Instead of pointing out the error in logic, he said, “Don’t get cocky. It’s not every day that I get a willing lab assistant with no sense of self-preservation.”

The next noise sounded like a choked laugh.

“Is your arm functional?” Alabaster asked, examining the blanket. “Jack never found you to tend to it.”

The ghost extended its limb out without any apparent pain or struggle.

Alabaster sighed in relief as Pax lowered his arm back down. He tapped two fingers on the edge of the book. This will be fine, he assured. Nothing needs to change. All he needed was the affirmation from Pax. “Are my terms acceptable to you?”

Pax laughed. The chime was more genuine. “You don’t have a lot of practice apologizing, do you?”

“Ajax.”

The sheet ghost rested its head against Alabaster’s thigh. After a pause, Pax squirmed further into his lap. Something familial, Alabaster decided. He wouldn’t know. He didn’t grow up with any of his half-siblings and his grandparents hadn’t been touchy. In his fatherly charades, Jack often let Pax curl up on his lap. Axel spent plenty of time shoving Pax off him when Pax was sleepy and wanted a nap.

“Will you read it in a British accent?” Pax asked, poking the book’s binding.

Six to seven hours of reading in a fake British accent? Alabaster weighed his options. He could double check to assure there was no recording equipment in the room, though he doubted Pax would press their fragile friendship with such antics. “…yes.”

“Will you make Ron’s voice higher in pitch?”

“Shut up and let me read to you.” Alabaster found where he left off and pressed his lips at the cat reading a map. He continued, lilting his words in what he hoped was a British accent. He never had the ease with accents that the Pax brothers did.

Pax didn’t complain. His breathing eased by the time Alabaster finished the next page.

At the end of the third chapter, Alabaster decided he would send Pax to bed with the other book in hand, the one for Axel (who had better not ask Alabaster to read to him). That was the other half of his plan. That book had a passage marked with a simple question, “Who is John Galt to you?” The question and passage should be subtle enough. They would strike conversations with Axel about tyranny and freewill without rousing suspicion from others. Then…

Alabaster scowled.

What would happen? What would happen if their talk of evil tyranny led to discussions of overthrowing Luke? The three of them, Pax, Axel, and he, worked well together in a stressful situation. The crowds took well to them when they were on stage. Alabaster was irritated to think a name like the Triple A Chimera (Pax didn’t even go by his first “a” name) could be useful, let alone a symbol for change, but what if it could? A symbol for liberation through insurrection.

He needed to reflect on this with his mother. Her wisdom was years beyond his own, and she could reveal their different potential futures, one that might involve the “Triple A Chimera” slaying a corrupt titan.

“We work well together. With our skill sets combined, we could make an excellent assassination team,” Alabaster muttered.

“Um… Uncle Vernon started to assassinate wizards?” Pax asked. He pulled the sheet partially off and rolled to stare up at Alabaster. His eyes were wide.

Alabaster hadn’t meant to speak aloud. “No—well—we don’t know yet. He might, judging off their insistence to break into his house.”

“But, the wizards could just magic him to pieces, right?”

“No. No, bullets work quite effectively against wizards.” Though, less so against brats with the Achilles’ curse. Luke’s weak spot was under his arm, where Axel had hefted him out of the River Styx. Kelly and Jack were the only two that Luke would let close enough to touch him there. And, Kelly would immediately rat Alabaster out if he suggested killing Kronos after the war.

What about poison? Could you kill a cursed of Achilles from the inside?

Pax pulled the sheet the rest of the way off. His amber and black eyes were so startled, they might roll out of their sockets. “Are you thinking about assassinating wizards?” With the sheet off and his sleeves rolled up, Alabaster could see bruises along Pax’s arm. The injury must have hurt more than he let on.

Alabaster sighed.

Pax wasn’t ready to talk about this sort of thing. Although the child of Eris held it together against the Romans, Alabaster noted how Pax tried not to kill anyone. Besides, right now, Alabaster was supposed to focus on being nice to Pax, not using him as a tool in this cosmic power struggle.

Alabaster removed a blank spell card from his stash and placed it between the pages as a bookmarker. “What you don’t realize Pax, is, after the events of the book series, and after he went mad with power, that I killed Harry Potter.”

Pax’s jaw dropped open at the thought. “That is a fanficiton I would read.”

“I’m sure you would. I forbid you from having Jack compose a ballad about it. [2] Come on. Let’s get you back to your tent. I have something I need to give to Axel.”

As they made their way back through camp, others were trickling in from the party. From what Alabaster heard, buses had been rented (in place of giant-carting death traps like Alabaster had to take). Some were loud with revelry; others were quiet with subtle glances tender touches, all hinting at future intimacy.  

Pax didn’t speak as they walked. Under typical circumstances, Alabaster would have prayed for this. Faced with the silence, only occasionally alleviated by passing partiers, tension dug Alabaster’s fingers into his library books. Would the lab be like this in the upcoming weeks? Awkwardly quiet? Pax’s chatter and excitement made for soothing white noise. “Not that I’m regretting the ability to think without interruption, but are you alright?” he asked.

Pax’s jammed his hands into his punk jacket, toying with something in his left pocket. Alabaster knew it was probably one of those apples—the ones Pax’s mother gave him each morning to turn into someone else. “Just thinking.”

A warm breeze slithered through camp and Alabaster realized how exhausted he was. Emotional stress was tiring. He cleared his throat. “Ajax—”

“Matthias and I were talking about sneaking into the girl’s bath house again. He perfectly measured the amount of water you need to fill a balloon to simulate a realistically filled bra, and I think he makes a lovely lady when he raises his voice a few octaves,” Pax spoke quickly and adverted his gaze. This mustn’t have been what he wanted to talk about.

Another sigh choked in Alabaster’s throat. “Wait—you’re not thinking about turning into one of the girls, are you?! Ajax, that’s absolutely unethical—”

“What? No!” Pax cried. “I would not! Then, I couldn’t prove that my hair can be tamed by no amount of conditioner! Lucille thinks I just don’t use enough.”

“Prometheus and I should place a bet on how quickly you’ll be kicked out.” Alabaster shook his head. “I forbid Lou Ellen from helping you in any way, shape, or form and I certainly hope you haven’t discovered a new gift of magic, only to debut it with something so juvenile.”

“Hey!” Pax protested, “Mercedes would agree: if Matthias and I do a security test on the girl’s bath house and find it wanting, then we’ve done a favor in pointing out its weakness.”

“I’m not even the one you’re spying on and I get catharsis at the thought of your comeuppance.”

They neared the Pax brothers’ tent.

Alabaster debated whether he should give Mercedes a warning about their plan or if she’d find that insulting to her skills as an intelligence gatherer. If the Nord was strapping on a bosom and a wig and walking in the front, then it would probably be the latter.

Still, he was obligated to ask, “You haven’t found an alternative non-magic route to become invisible or a woman—”

Pax withdrew the golden apple from his pocket and nipped it.

Nothing happened, which was peculiar. Eris’ apples of mischief were never duds. Godly item only malfunctioned by intentional design. Usually, Pax turned into someone when he ate his apples, something Mercedes was thrilled to use for spy missions and something she’d only allowed Pax to tell Alabaster, Lou Ellen, Jack, and Flynn. (Alabaster suspected Mercedes’ fear—that Luke would abuse this to see Annabeth sooner, even if it wasn’t really her.)

The longer Alabaster examined Pax, the more he noticed subtleties: Pax’s jaw line softened, his shoulders looked slimmer, something far less subtle about his curvature—

“It worked!” Pax laughed, grabbing at his—no—no—her—chest and lifting. “Oh my gods—Alabaster—they dance! You put your right tit in, you put your right tit out, you put your right tit in and you shake it all about—ow.”

Alabaster shrieked and jumped backwards.

Pax, didn’t seem to notice. He—she was too busy turning to do the Hokey Pokey and giggling. “Oo! Ow, okay. Gentle with the titties. I’ll have to name them. Huh, weird that I never thought to name them before—”

“Ajax!” Alabaster repeated in horror. He was at such a loss for logical words, he resorted to profanities. “What the fuck?!”

Alabaster’s heartbeat pounded so loud in his head that he couldn’t think. He adverted his gaze to the ground. His face felt like it was on fire. Panic, it dawned, I’m panicking more than I did during Rome’s attack.

A bloodcurdling comment came from the tent as someone stepped out.

“Ajax! I’m glad you’re….” The word “back” died on Axel’s lips. “You’re a girl.”

Alabaster looked at Axel, keeping one hand firmly between his eyes and where Pax was dancing. He assumed Axel would be staring at his little brother with the same shock Alabaster felt. Instead, Axel scowled at Alabaster with the intent of a crouching jaguar. “Torrington.” Threat and accusation rolled out with the growl. Tension made the muscles in Axel’s neck strain.

Alabaster’s jaw dropped. “It—it wasn’t me!”

“It had better not have been.”

The movement behind Alabaster’s hand minimized. “Am…. Am I not allowed to be a girl?” Pax’s question was quiet and insecure.

Axel’s response was immediate. From his lack of surprise or hesitation, Alabaster wondered if Axel had been expecting this for years. “You can be whatever you want.” Axel gently ruffled Pax’s unruly hair. Alabaster lowered his hand to watch the interaction, to see Pax’s fragile smile at her brother’s approval.

Seeing Pax like this troubled Alabaster, striking some uncanny valley in the approximation to his friend. All the other times Pax had shifted around Alabaster, it had been into completely different people (pretending to be Jason Grace or Luke Castellan) or completely different species (mostly weasels since Lou Ellen struggled to turn people into much else). The scientific and magic-loving part of Alabaster’s brain should have found this fascinating—could Pax alter individual features about himself? Maybe give himself freckles, change his hair, skin, or eye color, or have a pincer in place of a hand? Why did he feel uncomfortable instead?

Axel had continued to speak, “As long as you want to be one and aren’t doing it for someone else.”

Pax tilted her head, spilling her hair off to the side. “Why would I do it for someone else?”

Axel glared at Alabaster again. Word must have spread about why Pax ran from the dance. With the ordering of events, the potential problem was obvious, though Alabaster had hoped that Axel would think better of him. “Oh, for Kronos’ sake!” he hissed. “Axel—I—he just did this! I didn’t ask him to.”

Axel finally broke eye contact to glance at Pax’s continued dancing. “Ajax,” he sighed, “What did we talk about with touching yourself in public?”

“That it’s inappropriate—oh!” Pax dropped her chest. She made quite the buxom lady and it furthered Alabaster’s discomfort. “My chest is inappropriate now… Man, that doesn’t seem fair for girls. I get why Lucille says it’s sexist bullshit. The titties should fly free—”

“Ajax!” both Alabaster and Axel snapped.

“Sorry. I normally can’t touch myself when I turn into other people because, uh, I turned into someone else, that’s their body, and that would be creepy—”

“At least you have some moral sense,” Alabaster muttered.

“But, I’m just me right now—”

“You’re just you in public,” Axel said, “And, you’re my sibling. Don’t do that in front of me. Or anyone for that matter.” Whatever Axel had predicted about this situation, Pax’s unorthodox dancing hadn’t been part of it.[3] “And don’t think Flynn is going to let us off dawn training just because there was a party in our honor.” Despite Axel’s suspicion of Alabaster, he flashed both of them a smile that might have been… cocky? Proud?

This party had been for them. Although they assuredly would have died without Jack and Flynn’s rescue, Jack happily spun the tale as an exclusively victory for the Triple A Chimera. They had worked well together, with Pax’s expert surveillance granting the opportunity to prepare, Axel’s mastery of terror and tactic, and Alabaster’s magical subterfuge. The books in Alabaster’s hands felt heavy. He withdrew the one thick enough to glaze the eyes of the feeble and handed it to Axel.

“Some light philosophy for meditation.” Alabaster hoped his voice sounded metered and not high with residual panic. “If you grow bored with the length, I marked the chapter that best encapsulates the theory. Well, the primary one of discussion.” Axel was smart, but could grow tired of things he found meandering. Worry made Alabaster swallow. What if Axel mistook the recommendation as idle chatter? What if he understood and reported him to Mercedes? Or worse, Luke himself?

Alabaster visualized Axel’s rigid posture as he stood between Luke and Annabeth’s door. There were details Luke had surely missed: the way Alabaster prepped a spell, the way Mercedes reached for darts that she kept pinned under her shirt, the accumulation of Axel’s energy as he prepped a jaguar transformation. In that room, Alabaster learned these were people who would fight for what was ethically correct, even to defend an enemy, even against a titan.

All of them were probably afraid of the same thing: expressing that their leader had lost his mind. Maybe, Axel needed a nudge in the form of a book.

Axel took it and frowned at the cover. “Atlas shrugged?” he read aloud, “That’s a little tasteless considering what happened to the General on Mount Tam.”

Alabaster smirked. He’d never liked Atlas much in the first place. “I’m glad we’re all alive. Good night, Axel.” He nodded his head and turned to Pax. In the moment, he’d forgotten Pax wasn’t his typical self.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, making it ever more apparent how differently she was shaped. “Thanks for staying my friend,” she whispered into his shirt.

Alabaster’s face felt hot. Although he hated the word, he could find no better adjective to address the situation other than, “This is weird.”

“Yea, this is weird.” Axel grumbled. Alabaster could hear his eye roll. “But turning us into weasels and polecats? Completely normal.”

“That is normal!” Alabaster snapped. My normal. One of Pax’s swirling black hairs had slid against his chin and he blew it away. The indents of her face felt warm as she burrowed against his chest. A puff of mint—Pax must have been chewing gum—flooded Alabaster’s senses, sending them into hyper-awareness.

Alabaster gently put a hand on either of Pax’s shoulders and removed her. Holding Pax a foot away, Alabaster flashed back to the first time they’d met. “Can you really do magic?” she’d asked, tugging at his sleeve and batting her lashes. He thought Pax was a girl, then, and been humiliated upon finding his mistake. What made someone a boy or a girl? Belief? And if it was belief, and not biological presets, what did that belief entail?  

He cleared his throat. Her amber and black eyes were wide, a little afraid, and Alabaster slipped his grip from her shoulders, hoping they hadn’t been there for an inappropriate amount of time.

“Are you okay?” Pax asked. “Do you need another hug? Prometheus approved: he says my hugs are cure alls.”

“No,” Alabaster said quickly. In attempt to make the denial seem less desperate, he added, “No, I think the only person who might be able to claim panacea hugs is Apollo.”

“And no one should hug that creep,” Pax said. From the way she glanced off in the distance, Alabaster wondered if that was data in Jack’s seminar: What To Do When Pursued By a God and You Can’t Turn into a Tree. “But… are you okay? You’ve been acting funny since…” Her eyes widened. She glanced down at her curves, then back up at Alabaster. Her lips quirked into a half-smirk.

Horror clogged Alabaster’s throat. Pax knew. Alabaster wasn’t exactly sure what elusive information Pax knew, but she did, and Alabaster had to leave before she used it against him.

“You—you think I’m hot! You’re—you’re just straight—!”

There was no viable response to either of those comments. Disagreement would make him sound cruel and any compliment would require Alabaster to (both) lock himself in his lab in a vow of humiliated solitude and hide from Axel for that eternity.

Axel scowled critically at Alabaster’s pause.

This. This is what would be different if Pax was Axel’s little sister instead of little brother. Axel would have an excuse to hunt Alabaster down on unwarranted suspicions and make a sign out of his lanky frame that read, Reasons Not to Hit on My Little Sister.

With nothing else to say, Alabaster nodded to Axel. He hoped that he had managed a calm exterior: his thoughts were uselessly incoherent. His voice sounded shrill. “That’s on loan from the local library and is due in 21 days. I expect it returned to me on time and in prime condition. I hope both of you sleep well.”

Before Pax could respond further, Alabaster rigidly turned and strode away. Although the night had taken on a chill, Alabaster wiped a line of sweat from his forehead.

Stupid. Trivial. Distracting.  

He harnessed his focus, tuning out the unnecessary emotions. This was something he was more accustomed to doing with shame, shutting out his grandfather’s and house servants comments about, “Witch,” and “bastard child.” It was harder with this current emotion—whatever it was that made his heart thud.

He grasped at the other thoughts drifting on his consciousness: Sleep. Axel’s nightmares. Recognizing the Pax brothers as his friends. The three of them making an excellent team. Potential for assassinations. Luke’s increasing failures as a leader. How to lead an army without their golden boy mascot.

They couldn’t. Alabaster swallowed. The chilly air cleared his head. They needed Luke for the rest of the war effort. Disposing of him now would create a rift in Camp Othrys, one that they couldn’t afford. Alabaster knew some of his siblings wouldn’t follow him if a divide happens. If something happened to Kronos, the titans would split into opposing parties. Lamia and any children of Hecate that opposed Alabaster would surely fall on that other side. They didn’t have a replacement leader strong enough to lead the war, other than… who? Flynn?

Alabaster’s stomach churned. Axel was popular, but an outsider. None of the Titans, xenophobic by Hellanistic nature, would listen to him, other than, maybe, Prometheus. Flynn, thanks the roll of luck, had no interest in being a leader. That kind of power vacuum would likely lead Krios and Hyperion to sibling rivalry.

They would have to dispose of Luke after the war. They would need a plan to dispose of Luke after the war, assuming Axel and Pax would agree.

An idea slithered along the seams of Alabaster’s awareness, one involving the murky silhouettes of a lion, a snake, and a ram. Maybe Alabaster could rid Axel of his nightmares at the same time as making a weapon to defeat Luke. The Triple A Chimera…

Magic couldn’t save his dying father, but maybe it could save the world from the return of an ancient tyranny. With thoughts of this new death machine, Alabaster walked back towards his room, blissfully unaware that—for the next week—he’d spend an hour every night reading to a curvaceous, flirty female Pax.

 ***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! (Sorry for falling off the face of the earth again >>’‘‘) I rewrote this ending, like, three times XD I hope it worked! Stay tuned in two weeks (hopefully >>’‘ in the theoretical universe) where a certain maniac redhead finds himself on an island with a population of two. Love you guys. Thanks for your support! <3

 ***

footnotes: 

[1] When everyone stopped reading Tales from Mount Othrys, to pick up on a much more nostalgic work XD If it is not obvious enough, I do not have any rights to this book. There are not enough weasels or evil parents for me to have written it.

[2] Maybe, guys. I’ll consider it XD

[3] Pax’s playing the part of Captain Cook and the Isles of the Titties. Don’t ask questions.

[jennsmischievousmind]

EXSOMNIS

CHAPTER 1 - OATH OF HIPPOCRATES

Exsomnis: Wakeful, Vigilant

Summary: Fresh Doctor out of residency you didn't expect Conyers to be this uneventful until everything happened at the same time. From the outset, an odd meeting with what seems like a steadfast Detective but it was only the beginning.

Notes: English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Based on the movie Prisoners by Denis Villeneuve (so I don't own any of the OG characters) if you haven't seen it, I recommend you do (maybe before reading) :) The story takes place before and through the event in the movie.

“Incoming, male 22, shot in the thorax, GCS 2”

“Trauma 4 Dr. Izzy you’re on it.”

“Incoming, same site, female, 35, shot in the leg, no artery touched, police officer GCS4.”

“Trauma 2 is free”

Night shift in the E.D was on for eight hours straight.

“Evening Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Evening Erin, updates?”

“Well, we’ve got 2 gunshot victims whom just got in, they’re being take care of. The young Alisa with the addiction is, unfortunately, ready to get discharged and Mrs. Huston is …“

“True to herself I presume” ... we both sighed, she nodded

“I’ll check on her, you patted her shoulder, thanks.” You took a tablet checking Mrs. Huston, our backslider, last results.

“This man has to be handcuff right now!!” You turned around at the loud voice echoing in the E.R waiting room. The head nurse bumped into you.

“That’s the officer who brought the two shotguns, victims.” Your attention returned to the tablet.

“Well he must shut it, it’s a hospital, not a sports bar.” She looked at you embarrassed, you saw another nurse looking at him but trying to make herself busy.

Putting the tablet in your pocket you head to the waiting room.

“Sir, I need you to stay quiet please.” you saw the hospital security guy coming your way, but gently dismissed him.

The officer looked at you visibly annoyed, he blinked a few times in a matter of seconds. Your attention got caught when he stumbled on his side.

“Sir? Are you all right?” You caught him by his side and he hissed. Retrieving your hand, finding red stains on it, you lift his jacket.

“I need a treatment room!” You yelled, and ask a nurse for help, rushing the officer in the E.R.

“Treatment 1, Y/N” the head nurse pointed at your left.

He looked down at his stomach, a gash of blood was staining his light blue shirt.

“Shit!” He growled as the nurse helped you lay him down.

“I don’t have time for this.” He hissed trying to stand up.

“And I don’t have time to argue with you!” You pushed him back on the bed. Putting your gloves on.

“I won’t let you bleed out on my shift.” He sighed as the nurse cut down his shirt and tank top.

“Knife wounds.” He sighed as you inspect his chest and abdomen. He had two on the abdomen.

The adrenaline must have been enough for him to not feel them until now.

“You’ll need stitches.” The nurse prepares the stitches kit and she sanitizes the wounds.

“Won’t be the first.” He groaned you checked his vitals while the nurse prepared him.

“Dr. I need your nurse, is it okay with you?” The head nurse came in a rush.

“Yeah yeah, thanks Gail.” She let you the kit. One of his wounds was pretty low on his abdomen, genuinely you grabbed his belt to undo it.

“What the …!” he caught your wrist.

“Sorry, should have asked, I must lower your pants to reach the wound.” He didn’t answer anything, looking at you pondering if he really had to, he yields undoing his belt on his own. You lowered the pants as much as you needed, his dignity remaining intact.

“You’re lucky he didn’t stab you lower, you would have bled to death.”

“So much for reassuring your patient Doctor” he inhaled, a smile creeping on his lips.

“Yeah, well, sorry about that.” He smirked and hissed as the thread pulled the nerves.

You finished stitching him up in silence as he wasn’t much of a talker, but it didn’t bother you as you were not the best at small talks either.

“There you go. Try not to move too much, you need some rest officer.” You threw your gloves in the bin.

“Thanks, doc.” You finally took a good look at him. Sleek black hair, thick eyebrows, dark circles under two bright blue eyes, thin lips and a sharp jaw. He reached out his hand, that you shook, blinking multiples times again.

“My job. Do you want a hospital gown?” You asked him gesturing at his bare torso.

“No, thanks, I have a shirt in my trunk.” He hoped down the bed.

“Careful with those stitches, please. You’ll have to come back in a few weeks to get them removed. If you need anything for the pain…”

“I’ll be fine.” He grabbed his jacket and put it on with your help, his other hand on his stitches, he leaned forward and walk out the treatment room.

You shook your head and went to the main desk. Typing in your last entry, still filing up his charts you saw him pulled out his phone.

“No phone in the E.R.” you pointed at the sign on the doors. He looked at you then to the sign then back at you and finally head to the waiting room. A nurse approached you, multiple IV bags in her arms.

“Thank god I didn’t get to take care of him.” You turned your head to her wondering. She might have felt she said something wrong, as she stuttered an explanation.

“Well, he ... he is pretty stubborn, not the first time he shows up wounded and don’t want any help.” She grimaced, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“He is indeed.” You past by her, heading to the waiting room.

Patting on his shoulder as he was still on the phone you handed him a note and a painkiller prescription. The note reminding him how many times he had to change the gauze etc. You lock your gaze with his, in a way to make sure he’d got it. He was still listening to whoever was on the phone, and nod at you, somehow you stared at him longer than necessary. You mouth a goodbye raising your hand turning back to the E.R. immediately wondering what exactly got into you.

“Yeah, can you repeat that please I didn’t ... get it.” He talked to the phone, looking back at the note you gave him.

A few hours later you were finally on break. Erin had just got hers, she slumped into the seat next to you, she hummed at the smell of the fresh cup of coffee. Night shifts are not always the easiest, keeping up a healthy lifestyle when you’re pretty much a bat is not the best deal. Erin sighed loudly.

“Like you said.” You sipped on your ginger tea.

“I’ve heard you’ve met the infamous Detective Loki?” She asked putting down her mug. You opened your resting eyes, arching a brow at her, she had straightened up suddenly refreshed.

“Oh yeah, the stubborn guy! He's a detective?” you frowned.

“So?” She wriggled her eyebrows at you, finally getting what she meant you sighed.

The thing with Erin is that she knew you well, you’ve been to med school with her back in Cleveland and since you’ve arrived in this little town, she had tried to hook you up with every man in uniform she thinks you’d like. Firefighters, policeman, surgeons, etc…

“Come on, I’ve seen the man 30 minutes top.”

“That’s quite enough to tell if at least physically, he’s interesting you.”

“Are you listening to yourself? He must have someone you know.” You scoffed

“Whatever. Tell me honestly, how you found him?” She leaned on the table.

You sighed leaning back, stretching your legs. Reminiscing the encounter.

"He is … good looking, I don’t …, you know the nurses fear him, right?

“Hm hm? So what?” She urged you to continue.

“I don’t know why they do though. His eyes look sad but ... sweet in a way, you scoffed at your own sentence, give me an anesthetic I'm talking nonsense."

Erin giggled as you went on.

“We stared at each other for a few seconds back in the waiting room.” You took a gulp of hot tea.

“I bet it was awkward”, her shoulders rising.

“Don’t tell me, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was ridiculous.”

She smiled brightly, you knew what she had in mind.

“Don’t you dare.”

“What, I didn’t say a thing!“

“I can hear your mind plotting, stop that.” You menaced her with your index. She sing-song a not so sincere okay.

Chapter 2 - Red Light

[patricia-von-arundel]

The Boarding House AU: Elsa & University

Rating: T

Summary: Shardsverse AU. After escaping a death sentence, and forced to come to terms with the idea that she can never return to Arendelle nor see Anna again, Elsa finds herself in the unexpected position of sharing a room with a poverty-stricken young scholar of magic…

Part I: Elsa & Alarik | Part II: Elsa & Christmas | Part III: Elsa & Romance Novels (I) | Part IV: Elsa & Romance Novels (II)

Elsa was doing better - and worse. And Alarik was at a loss.

The nightmares came every few nights, and he could see her terror, her desperation, but despite his own similar nighttime tortures - less frequent now, but far from extinct - he didn’t know how to help her. 

He had always placed his faith in books, evidence, results - until the frightened young queen of Arendelle had arrived, and suddenly the variables were beyond his control. He just wanted to help her. 

He wanted to protect her. To once, just once, not fail to do so. 

But he had no right to do so. What he needed to do was find a better place for her - safer, more secure, cleaner and neater. 

Until then, he instead took to visiting Mrs. Gustavsson’s bakery on the way home from work, in hopes they had stale chocolate croissants, and adding a few more drops of water to his ink, or blowing out the lights an hour earlier. Sometimes, he was lucky enough to find only Agne behind the counter in the bakery. 

She had asked him, the first time he went in, “For the pretty young lady with gloves but no cloak?”

Alarik felt his face redden, but he nodded. “Elsa. Her name is Elsa.”

“A pretty name, too,” Agne said, and Alarik was glad his hair covered his ears as the flush moved north. But she might have seen anyway, when she leaned close to whisper, “Don’t tell Mother.” And she slipped another croissant in before tying the paper closed. 

“Thank you,” Alarik said, with all the warmth he could infuse into a murmur. 

And when Elsa whimpered and fought in the night, pulling him from work or from sleep, he lit a lamp, called her name until she found her way to consciousness - never touching - and hold out a croissant. She always took it, and usually managed a shaky smile.

It was more than enough. 

They rarely spoke during those times. He did try - an awkward, uncomfortable, “Do you want to talk about it?”

But she shook her head. “No. But... thank you.”

He didn’t know what to do. 

She didn’t complain, even when circumstances kept him late, running home with bread under one arm, whatever he could find that was cheap and filling under the other. She never complained about the food, the long days spent cooped up in cold silence, or about anything at all. he almost believed she feared what would happen if she dared to question the circumstances of her life - and considering what had happened when she had tried flee the role into which she had been born, such fears were understandable. 

He understood far better than he was yet prepared to let her know. But for now, it seemed cruel to ask her to share that burden - he had agreed to take hers, with no understanding that she would do the same with his. And as January dragged on, and he saw some tiny, almost incidental improvements, it seemed quiet had been the best course of action. 

The result of her frightened flight, the first day he had left her, seemed to be a reluctance to go out at all without immediate permission, no matter how many times he said it was not necessary, or however many piles of skilling coins he tried to leave for her use. So he took to coming home for lunch when he could - two days a week, at most three - to make sure she had a midday meal, and never mind how enticing was the enormous, roaring fires of the university reading rooms. She smiled now, usually, to see him, and that was a kind of warmth, too. 

But better still, after her brave trip out, alone, into the blizzard, she sometimes asked - offered? - to do the same again. But she only did so if he was there when she left, and when she came back. He certainly wasn’t going to argue - it was frigid outside, the streets slick with ice - besides it being a sign he took as hopeful. 

It had been a long time since he’d been responsible for someone, and never for someone as fragile and brittle as Elsa. But even he could see the pride in her eyes when she managed things for herself - or even better, for both of them. He liked seeing it. 

She has inclination to push herself to exhaustion, her father had once written. She believes there is control in perfection, despite the impossibility of the latter.

In the years since -  maybe just in the time from July to December, a scant few months - some part of her had cracked and fallen to fragments. If a trip to the shops might begin to glue her back together, if she could see herself accomplished in buying bread or a bottle of milk, then it became his job to encourage her. If she wanted perfection, let her be perfectly free. 

By mid-January, she even sometimes returned with clear pride at finding a better deal than he had anticipated: “I know you said chicken was on special, but the  herring was even better, for how much you get at the same price.”

And he wondered if he would ever stop being amazing by some of the things she did, completely unconsciously. “You worked that out on the spot?”

She looked to the side, but allowed herself to smile. “I’ve always been good at arithmetic. Poor Anna hated it.”

The herring lasted three days, where the chicken might have gotten them through two meals, and no more. He didn’t have to water down his ink that week, and there was enough left to buy her two small squares of chocolate on his way home. 

“For helping me,” he said, self-conscious as he gave it to her. 

“What?”

“The herring. I always just buy what’s most obviously cheap. But that... I had a little left over.”

“Really?” She took the chocolate - but instead of eating it, she placed it very carefully, still in its tissue-paper wrapping, on her tiny pile of personal belongings. There was half a chocolate croissant there too, and he hoped it meant she was getting enough to eat. 

“Really. Thank you.”

Again, she wouldn’t look at him, but her smile was almost sunny. “I’m glad. Especially because... herring’s my favorite.”

“Even better,” he said, then added, “I like herring, though cod’s always been my favorite.”

She went to the market for him the next Saturday, and was gone long enough that he grew concerned - but how could he hope to find her in all the crowded stalls and people? If she needed help, would she have the courage to ask?

But the memory sent a chill through him, deeper than the frigid air: she had asked for help, before, and had trusted blindly an utter stranger. She said she hadn’t, and of course she had the means to protect herself, and it had turned out fine, but he couldn’t let things happen to her as they had once happened to him. The circumstances had not been ideal, but still, he had chosen this life. Elsa had been forced into it. 

And he would never forget Anna’s letter, the last line before she signed her name: All that I know to ask is that you find her a place of safety, where I cannot. 

He watched out the window - the one he already thought of as Elsa’s window - and hated his inability to do as Anna had asked. This was not a place of safety - this was poverty and rot and despair. Elsa deserved a warm, dry room of her own, good food served on china plates, security and love. 

None of those things could exist, could survive, in the world Alarik had chosen for himself. 

He had to find her somewhere else to go. 

Especially since he had been here, already, for over a year - and, dutifully paying off past debts as he was, there was no way to avoid a trail, receipts and notes and bank letterheads, that would eventually be followed. He was six months, perhaps a year, from paying all he owed. He thought - hoped - that it would be easier to disappear then; they would have to ask questions, risk getting some in return, and as long as he wasn’t an outright threat - which he had no intention of being, whatever certain others believed - it might be deemed safer to leave him be. And then, perhaps things could improve: more money. Secure lodging intended for the long-term. Wood for the fire and a pantry for food and shelves for his books. 

There would be, for Elsa, what Anna had asked. 

But if his debts took longer than anticipated to be paid? If they found him before then?

She had been here for a month, and every day had been a threat to her. It was time to do as Anna had asked.

She finally came back flushed and happy, oblivious, it seemed, to the almost two hours she had been gone, and she looked so unburdened that he swallowed the desire to demand explanation. He got it anyway - she had a paper-wrapped parcel, and unfolded it, smiling, almost grinning, to show several small cuts of fish. “Cod!” she said. “The man cutting fillets said usually the pet-meat man buys the ends, but he’d sell me half a pound. And I had enough left for an onion, and the boy gave me a potato for free!”

She was so proud of herself. And he was astonished, again, not just at a free potato, but at her clear knack for thinking quickly and spending well. It didn’t seem likely she had been taught it - it wouldn’t be part of training for a king’s daughter any more than it had been for a duke’s son. And she had shown a talent, already, far superior to his own.

And so he grinned back, sharing her thrill, and pleased himself that she had not only remembered what he liked, but found a way to get it. Cod-ends for day-old chocolate croissants: it was a trade he would take.

But it’s still time to send her away.

He didn’t say anything. Not yet. They ate cod and onion and potato, and he slept, in his pile of blankets on the floor, for once with a full stomach. 

He considered his colleagues at the university carefully, trying to gauge them in a manner never necessary before: who could be trusted with Elsa?

Not those who, like him, were still early in their careers - though most came from wealthy families, with no lack of money whatever the university paid them, Elsa would be a trifle to their likes, a temporary adventure until they grew bored or were expected to marry some socially-approved girl of highborn status - not as highborn as Elsa, but that was now, of course, a moot point. Alarik was well aware of the scorn most of them felt for him - they had no idea of his own aristocratic birth, and would remain ignorant of it; his research brought enough risk without inviting more. 

And, too, there was the concern of her magic - of who could be trusted to know about it. He was one of few in his field - physical science - who found the investigation of what many believed to be a dying phenomenon worthwhile. The Tsandskiyi retreated further and further from modern civilization, and considering how they were still viewed and treated, was it really any surprise? Alarik had gotten to work with a small population in the remote lands between Austria and Russia, but no others had ever been willing to speak to him. The tiny human population with magic - like Elsa - were rare, often living in careful solitude if they survived to adulthood, and almost as distrustful of those who expressed interest in their strange abilities as the rest of the world was of them. They were born in uneven waves, but still, finding them in his present circumstances was all but impossible. Since earning his doctorate, he had expanded his research, of necessity, examining the historical appearances of what was called magic - but even more, he considered cellular properties in more accessible subjects; plants, mostly. 

Shards cells had appeared groundbreaking, attention-getting research but not so very long after, he and everyone else in his academic circles had yet to find an real value to or use for their discovery. He had earned his doctorate, and had, since, done whatever he could just to keep himself afloat. The older academics, he thought, felt something akin to pity, but the younger ones, with their comfortable allowances and sizable donations made as they presented themselves for doctoral consideration, looked at him with derision. Because who was he to them? A poor scholar, Chaucer’s Clerk, who had managed a momentary glory and so was afforded a reluctant place among them. 

If he was fair, maybe they were not all like that - but he could see none of them agreeing to give Elsa a safe place to live, a place where her nightmares might subside and her smiles come from more than buying cast-off ends of fish. A place where her magic would not be her defining characteristic - and her chains. 

His oldest colleagues were equally unlikely. They generally fell into two categories: those who doddered, monotonous, through the same material they had been teaching for decades, and those who had turned to zealots, paranoid and mad-eyed. And why would any of them, most of whom had adult children and grandchildren, agree to take on Elsa? She couldn’t pay for the lodging, and neither could Alarik. Anna might be able to help, but that would put both her and Elsa in greater danger. 

That left him with those ten or twenty years into their careers. Some of them, too, had families of their own, but just as many did not. He also wondered, briefly, if Elsa might make a good nanny or tutor, but the magic might be an issue. Still, he broached the topic after dinner one night in early February:

“How do you feel about children?”

She was sitting on her usual perch by the window, watching night fall over the city, holding her cup of tea from dinner, though it must have long since grown cold. She placed it on the sill before turning to look at him with her eyebrows raised. “Children?”

“Do you... like them?”

For a long moment, she just stared at him. “I... haven’t spent much time around them.”

He pushed his hair back from his eyes, mostly just to have something to do. “No, of course not.”

“Why?”

“I’m... trying to, uh... find a better place for you. Better than here. I thought maybe...”

“Oh.” She looked down at her hands, folded now across her lap. Her silk gloves were torn and stained, but still she kept them on. “I’m not safe to be around children.”

“You’re not...” But he swallowed back the rest.

Still, she shook her head. “I’m not.” She was still staring down at her hands.

A few days later, around midday, he was called out of a lecture by a very nervous-looking boy he didn’t know: “Dr. Andresson wants to see you, sir.”

Dr. Andresson was the head of the physical sciences department - Alarik had spoken to him perhaps twice in all the time he had been here. Alarik shared  “office” space with three others in a tiny, windowless room; Dr. Andresson had a long, modern office, a secretary in the anteroom. That secretary looked curiously flushed as he looked up at Alarik and said, “Dr. Geatland? They’re just in there.”

He didn’t have any idea what to expect on the other side of the heavy door, but it certainly would not have been Elsa. She was on the straight-backed chair in the corner, her hands locked tightly together - and the room was noticeably chilly despite the fire. She glanced up and quickly down again, but even that was enough that he saw the fear in her eyes. 

Dr. Andresson cleared his throat, drawing Alarik’s attention. “This young woman was asking for you in the porter’s office, Dr. Geatland.” Andresson was a heavily-built man in late middle age, confident of his own position in life - and Alarik’s much lower one. “Do you know her?”

Elsa looked like a reprimanded child, staring at her feet, still and silent. 

“Yes,” Alarik said. “She’s... she’s my neighbor.”

Dr. Andresson nodded slowly, and steepled his hands before his face. “Mm. I see. That is the extent of your... ‘relationship’?”

Alarik felt the flush in his cheeks. “Yes, sir.”

“And what, then, is her business here today?” Asked as if Elsa could not give an answer herself, or was too far below his notice to be bothered with. Alarik felt a flare of irritation - at Dr. Andresson, but also at Elsa.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You don’t know.”

“No, sir.”

The silence that followed was long and painful. Elsa was gnawing at her lower lip, brows knit, while Dr. Andresson watched her. When he cleared his throat once more, Elsa started, but Alarik didn’t think Dr. Andresson noticed the frost that bloomed on her skirt, beneath her torn gloves. She herself noticed, of course - her eyes widened, just slightly, and she quickly adjusted the folds of material to hide it. 

“I suppose that this time,” Dr. Andresson said, “we will call it a warning. But I would advise you, Dr. Geatland, that if you intend to remain in academia, you would do well to pick your... neighbors... carefully.”

The flush had risen to his ears. “Yes, sir.”

“I will have the porter escort her out. You may go.”

“What were you thinking?”

Alarik had tried to tamp down his anger, his frustration - there was no reason it should be directed at her. And he might have managed it if the porter wasn’t such a damned gossip, so that word spread quickly and everyone was jesting him about “neighbors” all afternoon. Even more irritating, he hadn’t been able to come up with any better explanation or excuse for her presence. 

But as he should have learned from the last time, she did not respond well to anger. She crossed her arms - tightly - and looked up at him with a face the portrait of a queen. “I was bringing you lunch.”

“What? Why?”

“Why not? You walk home for lunch several days a week. I was trying to... to return the favor.”

“You can’t do that!”

There was more ice in her voice than he’d ever seen from her hands: “Why. Not?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. How much more of this would there be - things he had never anticipated, things he had no way of knowing he needed to both consider and convey? “Women can’t... they’re not allowed on university property. Here, anyway.”

For a moment, she just stared at him - a rare occurrence. Two bright little spots of red grew on her cheeks. “That’s... that’s barbaric.”

He turned away from her, finally, to look at nothing in particular - the shadowy hint of a blank wall, all but lost to the onset of night - outside the window beside her. The anger and frustration, finally, were dissipating... leaving him at a loss. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

There was too much she didn’t know - too much to keep up with. And he was tired, so very tired. Tired of trying to get by, tired of living in squalor, tired of struggling, tired of stress and uncertainty and most of all...

Most of all, he was tired of her. 

He had always been terrible at hiding his emotions, and something of this must have shown on his face - she started to speak, but he shook his head, balling his hands to fists at his side. “I’m... I’m sorry, I... I think I could... use some air.”

He almost ran - desperate, suddenly, to be gone before she had a chance to respond. Heedless - and coatless - into the frigid cold, hands tucked deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched against more than just the bitter wind. 

What would happen if he just never went back? He had done it before. Just kept walking. Refused to look back. 

Icy streets, dirty snow piled and frozen against dirtier stucco, someone nearby shouting, the sounds of a meaty slap and a wailing child. A dirty, ugly city in a dirty, ugly world. Anywhere he went, it was more of the same. 

He had never asked for this. For any of this. But most of all, he had never asked for Elsa. For broken, struggling, frightened Elsa. 

No more than she had asked for him. Broken, struggling, frightened Alarik.

He stopped, shivering, beneath a broken street lamp. The word was gray - the buildings, the sky, the snow. In his mind he saw her: blankets pooled around her waist, holding a croissant, using both hands because of how they trembled. Her eyes finally meeting his, just briefly, and the tentative attempt at a smile. 

But he had to stop thinking of her as helpless. He was the problem. And she had not asked to be here. She had not asked to be dumped into a wholly alien world - one where she was now trying so hard to understand and grow. Her father had written of her struggles, and she struggled still, but... 

Cod! And the way that she had smiled. 

He slumped against the lamp post. He wanted to cry. 

Instead, he walked home again. And she turned to him, and he let the words come as they might: “I’m sorry. I’m... God, I’m sorry. I’m just... I’m an idiot. The whole administration and the rules are... are ridiculous. The whole thing is stupid, you’re right, you’re completely right, I had never even thought about it, but... I guess... what I’m trying to... to say is... thank you. And... and I really appreciate... all that you’ve done for me. I... I know it’s hard for you.”

A moment of silence - but he could have sworn, after, that he saw a ghost of a smile cross her face. “Apology accepted. And... you’re welcome.”

He did smile. He didn’t mind. And when she cocked an eyebrow and looked away, shaking her head, it only got wider. 

The real problem, he realized later, waiting for sleep: not where he was going to send her... but what sending her away might do to him. 

[agentexeider]

Zootopia: Kaiden’s Story...Chapter 12: Crossroads

The black was empty for a while, a void, endless and silent. Kaiden felt light, floating on an abyss. In a way, this was better. It was finally quiet, the pain gone, the worry and care of existence faded away. Facing potential eternity with only what he brought with him. Alone on an endless sea, bound no longer by time or space, at last it was over.

The void filled up with thoughts, images, feelings, memories both pleasant and horrible. Kaiden began walking through the events of his life, wondering if this was what mammals had always meant by ‘lives flashing before their eyes.’ Yet he had always known that to come before death, not after. As the disjointed images and sounds passed him by he started to feel very heavy, his body aching and feeling very tired. The images had a surreal quality to them, becoming distorted and faded like aged sepia-toned film on its last legs before burning and breaking.

Feeling very hot, Kaiden felt the void filling up with flames all around him, coming from seemingly nowhere. The familiar terror gripped his heart. Lily’s screams seemed to resonate in the void around him, calling for him, begging for him. The claws of demons pawing at him, scratching him with their claws. They appeared as black shadows swirling around him, screaming as if they were right in his ear. Screams that blended into a sheer tone, solid and boring straight into the inner recesses of his head. The flames licked at his fur, the pain of the heat, the crisping of his skin. He cried out, but his mouth made no sound. Closing his eyes, he emphatically prayed for it to end.

Suddenly, Kaiden’s eyes opened. The silence resumed save for a faint repetitive beeping. His blurry vision told him he was in a room, and that he was lying in a bed. Slowly it resolved, more things coming into focus. It was a hospital room, and a number of machines were dotted around the head of the bed. Feeling a presence to his right, he turned his head to see it. White, with two blue eyes, blue as river stones. For a moment, Kaiden thought it was her, his dear Lily. He tried to speak, but all he could manage was a groan due to the tube that was lodged deep in his throat. The image resolved, it wasn’t even a rabbit but a white tigress nurse checking on him.

“I know you still feel woozy, but we have to take the tube out of your throat.”

Kaiden reacted to the word ‘we’ with unease. She turned away and an otter doctor climbed up on a stool that was close to the bed.

“Mr. Ellison, my name is Doctor Boyd. You’re at Bunnyburrow County Hospital. You were severely injured during a fire.”

Kaiden grunted.

“Mr. Ellison, please don’t try to speak until we get the tube out of your throat,” Dr. Boyd urged.

The otter nodded to the nurse, who released the saline that kept the tube in place.

“On the count of three, I want you to blow out as hard as you can.”

She counted, and on three Kaiden blew as the nurse extracted the tube, coughing and sputtering. He took a deep breath of the cool dry air of the hospital, his throat stinging with agitation. The top of the bed was inclined so he could sit up slightly.

His deep and slow breathing had an airy, almost haunting quality to it, but he was able to breath on his own. Kaiden noticed that he couldn’t see the left side of the room. Holding his paw up to his left eye, all he could see what blackness. He turned back to the doctor confused.

“Mr. Ellison, you need to understand that when you were brought in, you were barely alive. And honestly, I don’t quite understand how you are either. You have a very powerful will to live sir.”

“But, you also need to understand what you suffered was the definition of catastrophic injury, so while we did keep you from perishing you are still very much critically injured,” Boyd said, trying to inform with as best a bedside manner as possible.

“How long?” Kaiden whispered.

“You’ve been in a coma for a month,” the doctor answered.

“My injuries?”

“Massive blood loss due to internal injuries. Your limbs were shredded, and I don’t know if reconstructive surgery is even an option given the level of damage and your weakened state. The gunshot actually went between the hemispheres of your brain. Miraculous really. Also, a hematoma and brain swelling is why you are blind in your left eye,” Boyd calmly explained.

Kaiden looked down to see that his arms were bandaged up from his paws to his shoulders. Faint and dry spots of leaking fluid had stained the gauze, and given that it was still doing this after a month of being comatose was not a good sign. His body was trying to fight and heal before the scar tissue would die and decay. Kaiden tilted the sheet up and looked down at his legs. Heavily bandaged as well, with fluid stains on the gauze. He knew what this meant: infection, sepsis, and a very painful death.

“How long doc?” Kaiden asked.

The otter doctor took a deep breath, not wanting to deliver the bad news.

“Doc?” Kaiden asked again.

“Days…a week, maybe two as most,” Dr. Boyd answered as if delivering a death sentence.

Kaiden breathed heavy on hearing the news.

“I’m sorry Mr. Ellison. I’ve contacted Zootopia General, and perhaps they may have specialists that can help you,” Dr. Boyd consoled.

Kaiden sat back on the bed looking up at the ceiling.

“If you need anything…If the pain…”

“I know the drill doc. I’ll holler if I need something,” Kaiden interrupted.

The nurse fitted Kaiden with a nasal cannula and adjusted a few of the machines that he was hooked up to. Both saddened, the doctor and nurse left, realizing that sometimes the best thing to do is leave the patient to come to grips with things on their own.

Kaiden sat in silence for a long time. He didn’t know how long he sat there, the IV drip making him fall asleep several times only to jerk awake as discomforting dreams would find him. He inclined the bed enough to look across the room to the nearby mirror mounted on the wall. For the first time he saw the reality of his situation. Like his arms and legs, his head was wrapped up with thick bandages. A small tube filled with red fluid, presumably blood, was coming out of his head and into a nearby bag to drain the hematoma and keep his brain from swelling.

“So this is how it ends,” he quietly muttered.

Kaiden took a moment to really consider those words, the finality of them.

“Really? I’ve never known you to be one for giving up,” said a voice.

Kaiden craned his head towards the voice. It was a raccoon dressed in a sharp suit looking at Kaiden concerned.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Christopher Talmadge, and little do you know, I have been following you practically your entire life.”

“What?!”

“I know… I mean, I knew… your parents,” the raccoon answered.

Talmadge stepped out of the doorway and entered, closing the door behind him on his way in. He walked over to the bed and climbed up on the stool that the doctor used. He gave Kaiden a once over.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized.

“What for?”

“For not coming for you sooner.”

“Who are you?” Kaiden asked again.

“I told you, my name is–”

“No, I mean who are you?” Kaiden asked, indicating he was meaning something else.

Talmadge looked down almost in shame, taking a sharp inhale as if in grief.

“You remember ‘The Pit’ don’t you?” Talmadge asked as he cast his gaze back at Kaiden.

Kaiden huffed in amazement.

“Remember? I’ve been doing everything in my power to forget that place,” he replied.

“Remember the final test, and the administrators that were behind the mirror?” Talmadge asked.

Kaiden didn’t answer, just waiting for the raccoon’s answer.

“I was one of the administrators of that program.”

“So you’re MIA. Come to finish the job?” Kaiden concluded.

Talmadge gave an almost defeated laugh.

“I guess I deserve that. I was MIA. In fact I was a lot of things, and it took a very wise mammal to show me how wrong I was.”

“So what are you here for?” Kaiden asked, almost annoyed.

“To start a long journey towards making things right,” Talmadge answered.

“You think your apology means anything to me. You think anything means anything to me?” Kaiden asked insultingly.

“I know about your current condition Kaiden. I know you’re dying, and I’m here to make you an offer.”

“Not interested,” Kaiden said coldly, sitting back.

Talmadge looked behind him to see if anyone was there. After doing so, he leaned towards the fox’s ear, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Listen god damn it, this is bigger than you know. You think what happened to you was because Jarod was taking out revenge? This is so much larger than you. A group is doing this, a group that’s been around a long time. Been part of every government, every law enforcement and intelligence organization. And they seem to have been around since the dawn of Zootopia. That has got to mean something to you.”

Kaiden glared at Talmadge, gritting his teeth.

“Not my problem anymore. None of this is my problem, and I never wanted any of this. They took everything from me already.”

Kaiden’s anger gave way to tears. “Please, just let me die in peace.”

Talmadge paused for a few moments. There was so much that needed saying, and the fox was seemingly in no mood to hear any of it.

“They took from you more than you know,” Talmadge said cryptically.

“You don’t want me to frame this in terms of the world and everyone else, fine. Then let me tell you the personal cost of what it was they took from you.”

Kaiden looked at Talmadge with his good eye.

“Your parents. They weren’t who they appeared to be. Robert and Kathleen were MIA agents.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” Kaiden vehemently denied the accusation.

“It’s the truth. Your parents were ex-MIA agents. They were my best friends, and when they wanted out, I did everything I could to get them out.”

“Why? Why’d they quit then?”

“You of course. When Kathleen found out she was pregnant with you, she wanted out then and there, but Robert and I convinced her that if she and her husband were to leave so suddenly, it would look too suspicious. It took me ten fucking years to get them out of deep cover work and into lesser classified work,” Talmadge explained.

“Import/Export?” Kaiden asked.

“Yes, by putting them there it gave enough time for the MIA to not consider them critical assets anymore, and it gave me the opportunity to have them quit without the MIA concerned about what they knew. And of course, as soon they got out, they packed up everything and got the hell out of Zootopia.”

“To the burrows,” Kaiden whispered.

“Yes, as far away from the big city and the MIA as possible. To get out of the way of history and out of ‘that’ world,” Talmadge answered.

Kaiden huffed in disbelief. He had become accustomed to lies so much that while this new revelation surprised him, it made sense in a strange sort of way. There were many times he would ask his parents about what life was like before him and in the big city, but they generally steered the conversation away from the topic, phrasing that life there was frantic and stressful and that life in the burrows was ‘better’ and ‘safer’. They had been trying to protect him from that world since he was born, trying to give their son a better life than what they endured.

Even knowing that they lied to him about their past, they did so because they loved their son, which make Kaiden love them that much more. Despite their efforts however, destiny had its own plans, and he felt sad that his parents’ sacrifice seemed to be in vain.

“Thank you for telling me about my parents. It answers a lot of questions. Now please, just leave me alone,” Kaiden replied, turning away from Talmadge and lying on his side.

Talmadge didn’t try to continue. After a brief moment of tense silence, he stood up and pulled out a card, leaving it on the nearby rolling table that patients use to eat off of. The business card was white card stock with a phone number printed on it, as well as a black lion’s head logo that simply had the number 13 written below it.

“If you change your mind, call this number.”

“I assure you, I won’t,” Kaiden muttered.

“Just in case,” Talmadge replied before stepping down from the stool to leave.

Kaiden waited for the raccoon to exit the room, hearing the click of the door latch. Now knowing the truth about his parents, he could finally grieve. The silence of the room filled with the soft whimpering and sobbing of the damaged fox.

Several Days Later…

Dr. Boyd appeared intermittently to supervise the nurses replacing Kaiden’s bandages with fresh ones. Even though the surgery when they brought him in had removed the thousands of pieces of shrapnel and foreign objects, the sheer physical damage was enough for anything to occur, from opportunistic infection to scar tissue. The prognosis was clearly not good by the worried faces on the staff. It was simply management at this point, and there was really nothing that could be done to save the dying fox.

After dealing with the interesting humility of being given a sponge bath, the room was quiet again. Kaiden started to notice a routine of periodic activity; it would be quiet, then busy, then quiet again. Much like his life, he wondered if perhaps that’s what life was in general: a series of moments, some quiet, others frenetic. He had his time to ponder on these kinds of thoughts at least until the final hours when all there would be was pain. But that time was seemingly distant, and for now, the peace and quiet of a solitary hospital room became his existence, and listening to the sound of his own breathing became the rhythm of life for him.

There was a tap at the door, interrupting the quiet of the room.

“Mr. Ellison?” The voice was Dr. Boyd, muffled from the other side of the door.

“Come in doc,” Kaiden beckoned.

The otter opened the door and climbed up on the stool, sitting down on it.

“More bad news doc?” Kaiden asked.

“No, no. This I confess is more of a personal visit,” he admitted.

Kaiden’s eyebrow perked up.

“I knew your wife, Mr. Ellison.”

“She did say she knew people at the hospital, colleagues,” Kaiden remarked.

“Yes, we were colleagues. We worked on several research projects together. We were also friends, and we talked about each other’s lives and the mammals in it,” Dr. Boyd said.

“Thank you for being her friend, doc, I know she needed friends all the time I was away,” Kaiden thanked.

“Call me Joseph,” the otter replied with a smile.

“Well, Joseph, what can I do for you?” Kaiden asked, cutting to the point.

“I was not sure how I would tell you this, or if I even should. I reasoned you had enough grief to deal with, and the fact that in the end it doesn’t matter anymore. But I figure if I was in your position, I would want to know.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Did Lily manage to tell you why she saw me that morning? Why she was ‘sick’?” Dr. Boyd inquired.

“No, she didn’t even tell me that she saw you.”

“Lily came to me with symptoms of nausea and what seemed to be a stomach virus, or so I thought, and I told her it would clear up in a couple days and that there was no problem. But the symptoms persisted, so I ran some blood work, and it was the morning of the fire that I found out what was making her ‘sick’.”

“Aw crap, don’t tell me she had cancer or something,” Kaiden shook his head.

Dr. Boyd snickered.

“No actually, something much more wonderful. Well at least, it was.”

The otter wrested his paws and smacked his lips trying to work up the nerve to say it. Finally, after a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and looked the fox square in the eye.

“Lily was pregnant,” he said softly.

Kaiden flashed back to that moment on the couch, to what Lily was wanting to tell him. ‘That must have been it,’ he thought.

“How is that possible?” Kaiden whispered.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Boyd replied.

“It shouldn’t be, but her blood showed levels of mCG and other pregnancy hormones, so there was no mistake,” Dr. Boyd continued. “She was pregnant, and I know that Lily loved you very much. She had always said that if she could she would find a way.”

“I don’t know what she did, or how, but she was brilliant, and if anyone could have figured it out, it was her. She loved you that much.”

Kaiden took the news like a kick to the chest, feeling the wind knocked out of him. He teared up, wincing with physical and emotional pain. He started to sob softly, staring up at the ceiling and willing the suffering to go away. Even Dr. Boyd was caught up in the heat of the moment and teared up a bit.

“What happened to you and her was unfair. I don’t pretend to know what business it is that you do. But what happened was an injustice, and I wish more than anything I could do something, anything to help you. Because I can’t stand the thought of the mammals who attacked you getting away with it. I’m deeply sorry. I know I’m supposed to remain professionally detached, but she was my dear friend,” the otter said, choking up on a few words. He cupped a paw over his mouth and started to shed a few tears.

Kaiden looked out the nearby window with misty eyes. He saw the moon staring down at him through the glass. He would often think back to those nights he sat in his cot during training, wondering if Lily was looking up at the moon as the same moment. It seemed Kaiden was faced with a choice, yet again brought before the crossroads to consider the options and possibilities. Death, or a fate worse than death. Lily was gone, the last light in his heart taken from him. The mammals who did this might as well have pierced his heart and forced the love to flow from the wound. All there was now was sadness, and sheer pain. They couldn’t be allowed to get away with this. They couldn’t be allowed to drive this pain onto others, and to create whatever horrors they have planned. This wasn’t about altruism, about doing the right thing. No, this was about Lily, and not seeing this repeat itself the world over. To watch from the eternal rest as others lament over their lost loves and lost families, knowing that he could have done something, that he should have done something, anything to prevent it, filled him with a renewed sense of determination.

In his heart of hearts, if Lily could speak to him now, he knew what she would say. “Do what you need to, to survive.”

“I love you Lily…I love you so much,” he thought to the moon, that in some time, some place, she would hear it.

Kaiden turned back to Dr. Boyd.

“Hey doc, you can do something for me.”

“What is it, what can I do?” the otter asked.

Kaiden motioned towards the nearby table, with the small business card on it.

“Call the number…Tell them, I changed my mind.”

Sometime later…

The offer that Talmadge had made was something of a mystery, and for good reason too. Had he said anything more during the time of his visit Kaiden likely would have scoffed or rejected it outright as abominable. But after listening to his heart and the reality of his situation, his mindset changed. It didn’t matter what it was, nor what was being asked of him. As long as he could bring Lily’s killers to justice, they could carve out a piece of his soul if necessary. And perhaps in many ways, that’s exactly what they did.

Cybernetic Augmentation, the wave of the future and the first step to self-controlled biological evolution, or so the futurists say. Going by how they would phrase it, one would think it almost a blessing, and maybe on some level it would be. The ability to surpass normal biological limitation, to correct a defect granted by genetics, or even bypass death all together. However, one would be foolish to not take into account the societal changes such technology would bring. But philosophy class was not what was on Kaiden’s mind. Even saving his own life was not important to him anymore. As far as he was concerned, his life was lost the moment Lily died, but there was some part of her calling out to him, something from the hereafter. He understood and accepted the level of augmentation that would be required. Even for this organization that Talmadge worked for, other agents had an arm or a leg replaced. Even two appendages was within the realm of possibility. But Kaiden’s case was one that, if successful, would be one for the record books.

Kaiden didn’t remember much after they transported him to the underground bunker, a place called ‘Bureau 13’. He couldn’t help but think that it was a fittingly cryptic name for a cryptic group. It was created many years ago by a small corps of agents from various groups, mainly the MIA. The signing of a federal executive order, officially called ‘Executive Order 60659’, also known as the ‘Bureau 13 Creation Order’ or the ‘Double Blind Contingency’, was what officially started the clandestine organization. The idea in short was that an agency operated separately from the government that employs it. The agency’s existence is even kept secret, and only known by a select few. This obfuscation would prevent such a group from being infiltrated, and moreover, make it capable of acting against any kind of infiltration into the government and other organizations in Zootopia. While given a high degree of latitude, their responsibilities are explicit: to find threats to Zootopia and its interests, and prevent such threats from carrying out their plans. However, Bureau 13’s ability to depend on other segments of Zootopian government is limited, hence the use of more stealthy solutions where possible.

Kaiden underwent several surgeries to stop his body from killing itself. The first and rather obvious one was the removal of his now dying limbs, which at this point were decaying and thus toxifying the remaining living tissue. A quadruple amputation, the removal of both arms at the shoulders and both legs at the hips, leaving the remaining torso and head. In any other circumstance, one would wonder what quality of life a mammal would have, but these were extraordinary circumstances. The joints were capped off, and metal attachment points were anchored to the joint bone, additional reinforcement added both above and below the tissue. The limbs themselves were made of made of metal, polymers and carbon fiber laminate over the metal structure. The augmentations were not limited to the external either. His internal organs were heavily modified as well. His lungs were revamped with an implanted rebreather to filter out toxins and even be exposed to zero oxygen environments for a short time. Angiogenic protein stimulation for accelerated healing, electrochemical conversion to allow food energy to be able to power the mechanisms, retinal prosthesis for enhanced and augmented vision modes, and much more. There wasn’t a part of his body that hadn’t been augmented in some way. Even his brain was augmented with a brain-machine interface chip that joined the organic to the synthetic, bonding electrodes to his central nervous system to allow the augments to not be simple prosthetics, but an extension of his very being.

It was quite literally brain surgery, which unearthed his memories and dreams. While the surgeons worked to fix his body, his mind drifted to her, the way she felt, the way she laughed, her scent, her taste, all the memories of days and nights gone by. The passion, the fire, sadness that dwelled within him that she alone could cure. The rage and frustration burning, he could feel his teeth grit and his fists clench. Desiring to kill Jarod for what he had done, for whom he had taken.

Kaiden opened his eyes, the grogginess of the whole ordeal still making his eyes feel heavy. He was in a lone hospital bed, the room dim with no light save for the fluorescent lamp softly buzzing above the bed, casting its diffuse light and barely illuminating the entirety of the room. There was an eerie quiet about the place. The twenty-four hour clock showed that it was past midnight. It would make sense to have such clocks due to the absence of windows, at least none that Kaiden could see. There would have to be some way to tell day from night. The feeling he got from the place was that it was underground. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he could almost feel the mountain of dirt above and around him just outside the concrete walls.

He looked around. He was hooked up to an IV and heart monitor, but gone were the plethora of machines from his old room. There was a slight pain everywhere, and his whole body ached. Feeling stiff and stretched like taffy in a pulling machine, even breathing caused a slight twinge.

“I assure you it will get better,” said a familiar voice from the nearby doorway.

Kaiden craned his head and looked at the figure, recognizing him immediately from his silhouette.

“You of all people would be the last I would expect here,” Kaiden replied.

“I suffered from my own hubris, and what happened to me was not to be expected,” said the voice.

The figure stepped out of the doorway and came over to Kaiden’s bed. It was a large grizzly bear. He had been injured some time ago, bearing his own set of scars and disfigurements, the most obvious of which was the fact that his arms had been replaced with cybernetic augments. Scarring was visible on his face, neck and chest, at least going by what little that peeked from above the collar of the shirt he was wearing.

“So…what are you doing here Kerberos?” Kaiden asked.

“I came to see you. When I heard that you had been injured and that you had decided to join up, I just had to see you,” Kerberos answered.

“I’m touched,” Kaiden replied sarcastically.

“I deserve that. Actually I deserve a lot more than that. After what I put your children through, I don’t deserve a second chance,” the bear said plainly.

Kaiden’s eyebrow perked up. He had known Humphrey Kerberos as many things. A hard ass, a cruel taskmaster, and even a downright aggressive son of a bitch, but never once had he seen the expression that was on the bear’s face right now: regret. Regret with a side helping of humility. Kaiden was a bit more receptive, that and the fact that he was in a hospital bed.

“I guess one of the reasons I wanted to see you was, I wanted to say… I’m sorry,” Kerberos apologized.

Kaiden was shocked. He apologized, he actually apologized for something. Admitting wrongdoing was also not something Kaiden had known the bear to ever do, not in all the years during his time in ‘the Pit’.

“Why?” Kaiden asked.

“Because of what I did,” Kerberos replied matter of factly.

“No, not that, I mean why do you even feel bad about it now?” Kaiden clarified.

“Because sometimes blind faith can make you rationalize things that you shouldn’t, and I was a patriot Kaiden, zealous even. I did what I did because I believed in what they were selling, that what I was doing was in the service of Zootopia. That even as sins go, it would make all the difference later. I believed, even when they asked me to do even worse things for them later.”

“Worse than child abuse? Worse than turning children into weapons, weapons that would then be pointed at innocent people to make room for what, some kind of new world order?” Kaiden scoffed.

“In short, yes. Because while what I did to you in many ways made you stronger, at least it produced something for that effort. Every single one of you became stronger as a result. I’m not saying that excuses me, but it created something, and that at least is something productive. All the years after were spent destroying something,” Kerberos explained.

“And that is?”

“The world, the structure of it. The small little places of peace and tranquility, because we were told that our way was the best and the only way. I believed in the lie just like you. I knew on some level it was wrong, but I ignored it same as you.”

“So what changed?”

“Same as you. I awoke. Opened my eyes one day and realized the truth of what I was doing. I lost the zeal, the commitment, and eventually the focus, which caught up with me rather quickly,” Kerberos replied, holding up his cybernetic paws as proof.

“So what made you join this outfit?”

“We all have the same motivations here. We joined up to do many things, but ultimately, because we wanted to serve and protect, to make the world a better place. And we realize now that we broke it. WE broke it, not any one of us, but a group effort of many people, across multiple disciplines, all running blindly towards it. Why are we here you ask? Because we all realize our part in this, even you. And just like you, we want to work at helping to fix it,” Kerberos said.

Kaiden weakly reached up with his paw to grab the side rail to his bed and was stunned, seeing the prosthesis for the first time. Flexing the fingers and rotating his wrist, it felt like his paw. It moved like it, but it was made of metal and polymer. His pawpads had a rough feel to them to replicate his old ones. Touching the metal rail felt cold, it actually felt cold. The fact that he could feel anything at all was a shock, but whatever process that was allowing him to feel was able to do so pretty accurately compared to before.

Kerberos saw the expression on the fox’s face.

“That was the other reason I wanted to be here.”

“What, to see me marvel?”

“No, to help you through this.”

“Through what?”

“Using them, training with them. Simply walking is going to be harder than you think,” The bear informed.

“You offering to train me again? Is that it?” Kaiden asked.

“Kaiden, despite what you think about me, training the next generation is what I do. Imparting my knowledge and experience to allow others to achieve. I can’t make up for the past, and I can apologize a thousand times, and it won’t change what I did or what happened. But if you let me, we can change how it goes from here.”

“It’s not like I have a choice anyway,” Kaiden muttered.

“No, I guess you don’t. But I would rather you be a willing participant this time, especially since willpower will be a major factor here.”

Kaiden heaved a sigh, noticing the clear irony and seemingly cyclical nature of the universe. How the crossroads of our lives seem to come right back at us again and again, each time a new chance at the road. Does one go right or left, forward or back, and how attitudes and beliefs can make all the difference in the world. At the very least he would work with the old bear to learn his new capabilities. It’s not like they left him with an owner’s manual.

Three months later…

Training with Humphrey Kerberos wasn’t exactly what Kaiden expected, not just because part of it felt more like physical therapy than military training. Learning to walk again, to grasp things gently without crushing them, etc. The power of the augmentations was nothing that could be denied, but finer control, things like picking up a fork and using it to eat, or drinking from a glass without shattering it in a paw, that was something else.

But despite all of that, there was something different about Kaiden’s training regimen than the content: patience. Kerberos was patient with Kaiden, and in fact all of the recruited agents that were in various states of augmentation were patient with him. Where in the past Kerberos was cold and hard, even cruel, none of that existed here. He was kind, patient, even compassionate. Kaiden wondered exactly what caused such a complete inversion of his personality. He concluded something bad must have happened, something that shook the bear to his core.

During their training, Kaiden had slowly but surely tried to get him to talk about it, but the bear would always change the subject and even sometimes tell Kaiden to drop it. Kerberos knew what the fox was digging for, and Kaiden considered the bear would give him an answer eventually.

The pair had been paged to Director Talmadge’s office. Walking through the halls past the command center, they arrived at the raccoon’s office, standing ‘at ease’ in front of the mahogany desk. The raccoon had flipped through the last few pages of a file.

“These are your copies,” the raccoon gestured toward the more appropriately sized copies of the file on his desk.

The pair picked them up and began to review them. A picture of a red-furred squirrel caught their attention.

“Do you know a mammal named Milton Hamilton?” Talmadge asked Kaiden.

“Isn’t he some big time tech mogul?” the fox replied.

“Was,” Talmadge replied.

“Was?”

“Lucas Technologies purchased Hamilton Industries, a hostile takeover. Milton Hamilton Sr. had died a year earlier and left the company to his son. Milton Hamilton Jr. had been working an incredibly brilliant bit of programming. Basically, it’s a publicly available encryption scheme that, and here’s the kicker, doesn’t have any kind of government back door into it. Apparently Junior doesn’t trust the system any more than we do.”

“Ok, so what does that have to do with us? Didn’t that happen like, I don’t know, two, three years ago?” Kaiden asked.

“Four,” Talmadge corrected.

“Ok, four. Point is the company was bought, and Junior here, didn’t he just go off into obscurity? Probably enjoying his fat bank account,” Kaiden said.

“Actually, the director and I believe that Milton Hamilton was abducted, and the story of his ‘riding off into the sunset’ planted for the sake of explaining his disappearance,” Kerberos clarified.

Kaiden nodded and looked back at the file.

“What the hell does Lucas Technologies want with a twenty-one year old kid?” Kaiden asked.

“Not Lucas Technologies, but rather the mammals behind the corporation,” Talmadge put rather delicately.

“Kaiden, perhaps there is something that needs a bit of explaining. We’ve discovered that there is a group of mammals, across many areas and disciplines of influence, who are working together for some kind of goal that as of yet we haven’t figured out,” Kerberos explained.

“Have you ever heard of a group called the ‘Council of Five’? Or perhaps by their more colloquial name, the Illuminati?” Talmadge asked.

Kaiden’s head snapped to match his gaze with the raccoon, displaying a stern expression.

“I take it from your reaction, you have,” Talmadge replied, answering his own question.

“You could say that. Just before Jarod, that bastard, shot me in the head, he said that’s who he worked for. In fact, he said that’s who we’ve always been working for, that they ran the MIA. Hell, by his reckoning they run all of Zootopia.”

There was a thick pause in the room. Kaiden waited for at least one of them to set him straight. He shot a glance back and forth between Kerberos and Talmadge, neither taking the opportunity.

“Well, he’s not far off,” Talmadge said, breaking the silence.

Kaiden’s brow perked in surprise.

“We have known for some time now that there is a group of powerful mammals who have been trying to manipulate society from behind the scenes. We aren’t sure when they established themselves. In fact, there is a very concerning notion they may have actually been in their position since Zootopia’s founding. In either case, they have been attempting to elicit more and more control over everyday forces that run not just the city, but the entire planet. And we have come to the conclusion that such a position is not in our best interests,” Talmadge explained.

“So, they’re literally the invisible paw, the power behind the throne, the um…masters of the world or something to that effect?” Kaiden asked flippantly.

“Correct.”

“Ok…Well let’s let that nightmare sink in for a second. What are we supposed to do about it?”

“They’re not invincible, Mr. Ellison. They are just mammals made of flesh and blood. Powerful yes, and with a wide range of resources, but that hasn’t stopped us before, nor has it even stopped you when you worked for the MIA. It requires the smart use of tactics and resources, but there is an answer to find. The question is can we be smart, strong and fast enough to find and use it?” Talmadge said confidently.

“And luck, luck helps too,” Kerberos added.

“Well I think we’ll need plenty of that,” the raccoon nodded.

“Well I knew the other paw was going to drop at some point, just didn’t realize how big of a drop it would be,” Kaiden remarked.

“This isn’t just about you Kaiden. It’s about Zootopia. It’s about all of us. We rise or fall together. You need to understand that nothing is more important than the security and safety of Zootopia and its citizens. Not you, not me, not any of us. I think deep down you believe that too,” Kerberos said.

Talmadge pulled a patch out of his desk and slid it across to Kaiden. The patch would become the symbol that would define his life from this moment on.

The patch had a stylized white-furred lion head on it with a mane of black, the number ‘13’ embroidered below it, and words written in a circular alignment along the edge.

“Cum Animus Et Ferocia Nos Tueri Zootopia”

“With Courage and Ferocity We Protect Zootopia”

Kaiden took the patch from the desk and studied it for a moment. Feeling the sensation of the patch in his newly minted mechanical arm, it seemed purpose found him again right when he needed it.

“OK…Let’s get started.”

[gorepaint]

ii. HISTORY & TIMELINE.

KOVA EXPERIENCES IMMENSELY TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES     from an exceptionally young age.   it’s important to note that,   like most people,    her personality is an amalgamation of the experiences from her youth,  as well as adulthood.  in this headcannon,  you will see a breakdown of the most important events in her life,   beginning from when she was as young as seven years old,   to her untimely death at age twenty-four.   i will do my best to be concise,   but as per usual this will be updated as her story updates.   as well,   this is just for kova in her modern-day verse,   since that’s the verse i primarily roleplay in   &   base many of her other verses around.   however,   if you’d like to know more about kova within the soulbound universe,   you are welcome to ask.   while certain details have been changed,   you’ll find that no major life experiences have been left out.   if anything,   you’ll see more significant experiences in her modern verse than her soulbound verse,   primarily due to the fact that her modern verses are based on you guys   &   your characters.   that being said,  let’s jump right in.

i.  home life,  family,  &  early childhood.  kova’s mother,   katherine ardontis,   was the primary moneyearner in the household.   working for an independent military contractor,   katherine often spent many weeks away from home on what she referred to as    “ missions ”  for her boss,  nikolai disthroka xi.   nikolai inherited the business from his father,   and his father from his father,   and so forth,  going back about ten generations of disthroka men.   katherine was considered nikolai’s right hand,   &   worked closely with her partner,   caito phalen,  who became a helpful yet distant,   family friend.  when kova was around 7 years old,   katherine announced that she’d be leaving on a two year assignment to a neighboring territory in another country to attempt to create a peace treaty between them and the U.S. and prevent a war from breaking out.   while disappointed,  kova didn’t quite understand the gravity of what katherine leaving for such a dangerous assignment would mean.  katherine departed shortly after announcing the news,  leaving kova and her father,   orion ardontis   alone.

ii.  katherine’s death   &  meeting vinnea vygress.  when it came time for katherine to return from her assignment,   caito was the one that came to their door.   kova was about nine years old at the time,   &   had met caito on several separate occasions.   caito then broke the news to orion  &  kova that katherine had gone missing on assignment and most likely would never return.   kova,   upset   &   confused,   kova ran away,  taking none of her belongings.  it was during this period that kova met vinnea vygress,   a homeless orphan who lived on the streets nearby.   kova stayed with vinnea for a week,  until one fateful night,  a man crawled into their tent  &  attempted to rob them.   this was the day that kova discovered that magic existed in the world as she witnessed vinnea’s eyes glow a sparkling,    almost ephemeral aureate color. she witnessed the air around them begin to move to vinnea’s command,  &  soon thereafter,   the man was dead.   kova,   distressed   &   traumatized by watching her newfound friend murder another person in ways she could neither comprehend nor explain,   felt her own eyes begin to glow a startling white,   the veins at the corners of her hues bulging from under her skin,   her irises  &  pupils disappearing completely,   leaving nothing but the whites of her eyes.  this transformation,   however,  was short lived,  &  kova found herself falling unconscious.

iii.  vinnea’s adoption & return home.   when kova awoke,  all she had wanted was to see her father.   vinnea,  feeling uncomfortable leaving kova to fend for herself after what she’d just experienced,  agreed to escort her home.  on the way,  vinnea explained that she was not the only one with those powers           that she remembers a time before her parents died that they’d teach her ways to control them.  her father was unable to wield elemental magic like vinnea,  but her mother was efficient  &  prolific in doing so.   when kova  & vinnea arrived back at kova’s childhood home,  orion greeted them with open arms.   kova insisted that vinnea come inside  &  join them for dinner.   at first,   she was reluctant,  but eventually agreed to come inside.   it was at this dinner that orion told kova the truth about katherine’s relationship to the disthroka company:   they were a secret organization of militant users of magic dedicated to keeping the balance between   “  good  &  evil  ”.    nikolai’s company was just one of many that existed around the world,   but his was,  by far,  the most powerful,  largely due to katherine  &  caito’s prowess.   after this dinner,  kova expressed to her father what she had experienced with vinnea             the glowing eyes,  the rush of power,  the death of that man.  orion was shocked,  but not exorbitantly so,  because he could tell by the unique golden color of vinnea’s eyes that she was of elemental mage bloodline.  he offered the option to take vinnea in,  and vinnea agreed to stay with them for a while.  however,  a while quickly turned into FOREVER,   &  the two girls became sisters.

iv.  honing kova’s powers.  in the months following this event,  orion reached out to caito for his help in training his daughters to use their powers.  orion was a pureblooded human,  and thus could not teach them anything besides the nuances of physical combat.  kova expressed interest in joining nikolai’s guard like her mother,  to which orion expressed some dismay in return,  but he eventually came around.  caito explained to the girls that kova’s power was called UMBRAKENESIS,   or the power to control darkness.   her power was exceptionally rare,  only seen a few times throughout history,  &  was largely considered to be mythological.  while caito didn’t have any experience with umbrakinetics,  he taught kova to harness her abilities   &   focus her mind.  vinnea joined her on this journey.  though the elemental mage bloodline had been killed off many years prior due to fear of their pure strength,  there were still mages capable of individual elemental magic,  they just did not have the telltale genetic signs like vinnea did.  caito taught her to control each element individually,  &  she showed incredible proficiency in utilizing air magic.

v.  integration into the guard.  this training went on until kova was 13 years old.  by that time,  she had almost a complete grasp on how to use her powers.  caito informed the girls that his sons would be joining nikolai’s guard  &  needed partners.  he admitted that he was hoping that the two would be willing to pair up with his kids,  kyron eldin-phalen  &   jamison eldin-phalen.  kyron  &  jamison share a mother,  but caito is only jamison’s biological dad.  when he married their mother,  sarahya,  she already had kyron,  &  when she died caito kept him.  kova was ready to join the guard,  but vinnea did not want to be tied down to an organization with rules.  however,  she ended up going to the guard anyways to appease kova.  vinnea ended up pairing up with jamison,  &  kova became partners with kyron.

vi.  the girls & their relationships with the phalen boys.  over the course of the next couple of years,  jamison ended up falling madly in love with vinnea.  he often confided in kova about how much he seemed to love her  &  how badly he wanted to be with her.  vinnea was aware of his crush on her but didn’t seem to care all that much,  constantly finding comfort in random boys that she’d meet elsewhere.  she broke his heart on several occasions,  to the point where jamison convinced himself that she did not share his affections,  &  resigned himself to never being with her.  kova  &  kyron,  at first,  appeared to have the totally opposite problem.  they worked beautifully together in a fight,  but in their personal relationship they couldn’t seem to get along.  kyron thought of kova as spoiled  &  annoying,   &  kova thought of him as unnecessarily mean  &  condescending.  they’re constantly being torn apart after getting into physical altercations during trainings or events.

vii.  caito’s imprisonment.    when kova turned sixteen,   there was a banquet to honor her,  vinnea,  kyron,  &   jamison’s integration into the guard.  at the banquet,  kova  &  kyron got into it,  having a screaming match in the middle of the banquet hall.  kova ended up leaving on her own to clear her head when she ran into caito.  he was intoxicated,  dangerously so,  &  kept touching her.  he lamented about how kova looked just like her mother,  &  began to hold kova tightly,  telling her that it would all be okay,   that they’d be together again once more.   the lines between kova  &  her mother had obviously become blurred for caito,  as he couldn’t tell that kova was not katherine.  he dragged kova to a dark corner where they wouldn’t be interrupted  &  attempted to sexually assault her,  when kyron showed up  &  essentially beat him within an inch of his life.   kyron then scooped up kova,  who had begun to disassociate  &  shut down  &  refused to move.   he carried her home,   apologizing to her the whole time.   he held her until she fell asleep,  but moments before she asked him why she protected her over his father,   to which he responded:   “ I THINK I LOVE YOU ”.  caito was imprisoned that same day,  sentenced by nikolai to an eternity in a special prison for mages.

vii.  kyron’s death.  kyron  &  kova grew much closer after caito’s misdoings,  &  eventually struck up a romantic relationship.  though they still fought often,  they had come to terms with the fact that they were deeply in love with one another.  about a year after they began dating,  when kova was seventeen,  her  &  kyron went out on an assignment.  for the first time,  they actually got into it while on the job,  &  kyron blamed her for his father’s imprisonment.  kova,  upset,  ran off  (  as she tended to do  ).  she came face to face with a demon of epic proportions,  his body resembling that of a wendigo  (  HORROR WARNING ON IMAGE  ).  the beast attacked her,   &  when kyron intervened,  it killed him.  jamison,  upon finding out what happened,  cut kova from his life.  he still kept in contact  with vinnea on occasion,  but the memory of what happened to his brother was too painful to face.

viii.  separation from the guard.   soon after kyron’s death,  kova rescinded herself from the guard,  vinnea following.  nikolai begged her not to go,  but she said that she had to leave because she’d experienced too much death under his leadership.  however,  she agreed to do some vigilante work for him.  vinnea insisted on being her vigilante partner,  but kova denied her.

ix. reuniting with kova’s mother.    a few years later,  when she was 20,  kova accepted an assignment from nikolai to travel to the astral plane  &  attempt to create peace with a developing dimension,  ruled by a fearless mage who went by athekire.  nobody knew athekire’s true identity,   as her face was consistently concealed by a mask,  as were the entirety of her guard’s,  but kova didn’t quite care all that much. it was supposed to be simple,   &  when kova arrived she was met with a woman who called herself elizabeth.  there was nothing remarkable about elizabeth.  only that,  through the holes in her mask,  she could see that she shared an eye color with vinnea.  she chocked it up to a coincidence,   figuring that if one person from the elemental bloodline could survive,  so could another.  however,  when elizabeth led kova to athekire,  something about athekire struck her as similar,  too.  athekire expressed no desire in ending the war that she intended to start with the disthroka regime,  stating repeatedly that nikolai was corrupt  &  not at all what he seemed.   athekire’s insult to nikolai,  who had become like her second father,  hit kova hard,  &  she ended up attacking,  ripping athekire’s mask from her face to discover that it was actually her mother,  katherine,  who she had not seen in thirteen years.  this angered kova greatly,  but katherine begged kova to hear her out.  when the dust finally settled  &  kova listened to her story,  she was told that katherine had discovered that when the disthroka regime began,  the original nikolai disthroka had ordered the death of all darkness mages in secret.  all except for one:  his concubine.  he then birthed a son.  when the son became old enough,   he  forced the concubine to perform a soul infusion  &  swap his consciousness with his kid’s.  then,  in his child’s body,  he killed his old,  dying body.  he figured that this was a way to keep himself immortal  &  infinitely powerful,  &  has continued doing this for many years.  when katherine confronted nikolai disthroka xi,  she discovered that he was the original nikolai,  &  that he has killed every son he had for ten generations.  kova,  refusing to believe this,  left the guard  &  went to the only person she was sure could shed some light on the situation:  ORION.

x. orion’s death & vinnea’s disappearance.  when she arrived home,  she discovered that orion had been murdered while she was on assignment.  vinnea was distraught  &  had found comfort in jamison’s friendship.  when kova showed up,  jamison left in a hurry,  leaving vinnea and kova alone.  kova tells vinnea what she discovered,  and about elizabeth.  vinnea felt it was worth investigating,  &  left to find athekire’s dimension to confront both athekire  &  elizabeth.  however,  vinnea wasn’t heard from again for years.  after this,  kova went on a mission to find who killed her father  &  avenge his death.   when she found the group that killed him,  she discovered that they were a part of nikolai’s guard,  &  she transformed for the second time in her life into her   “ VOID STATE ”,  an amalgamation of her raw power,  showing her what her true form looked like.  however,  when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in this state,  she realized that she resembled uncannily the demon that murdered kyron.  it hit her all at once that she was the one who had killed kyron,  but had astral projected from the trauma and watched herself kill him from outside of her body.

xi. reconnecting with jamison.  after three years  (  kova is 24 at this point  )   &  no word from vinnea,  kova  &  jamison reconnected.  jamison admitted to kova that he had sought the help of a young seer to find vinnea but ended up falling in love with her.  eventually,  she was charged with treason against the disthroka regime  &  hanged.  jamison had left the guard shortly after  &  fell off the grid,  vowing to never go back.  kova apologized to him,  but felt ultimately guilty about what she had done to his brother.  she confessed what she saw the day she realized what her void state looked like.  in a fit of rage,  he attempts to kill her,  when vinnea resurfaces  &  stops him.  she’s pissed at what he attempted to do to kova,  but puts it off to tell them what she had discovered. vinnea explained that elizabeth was actually her mother,  and that everything that katherine had said was true.  she learned that nikolai’s concubine recently died,  &  that her spirit had latched onto kova,  &  that’s why kova is an umbrakinetic.  she said that they had to stop nikolai because he wanted to kidnap kova  &  turn her into his new concubine.

xii. battle with nikolai.  the three of them confronted nikolai,  who did not react well.  he engaged in a battle with all three of them  &  almost beat them,  holding his own.  he had jamison  &  vinnea in a trance,  keeping them from moving.  kova ended up breaking the trance  &  telling them to run.  they shared a tear-felt goodbye,  &  it ended with jamison saying that he forgives her.  once they were safely out of range,  kova infused nikolai’s soul into her body,  &  burned herself from the inside out,  creating a rip in the universe  &  destroying her physical body in the process.

xiii. additional facts & info post-death.  

☆ 001 .   it is speculated that nikolai killed jamison’s seer  (  talissa anjaile  ),  because she found out about his secret in looking for vinnea. ☆ 002 .   jamison  &  vinnea end up getting married after kova’s death.