#iamdavidvincent

[agentsterling]

Jason looked down at his hands and bent all his fingers as if proving to himself he was real more than to David.

"Fascinating." Either his delusion was very specific or he was dealing with the real thing. He didn't have anything in his files about fingers. He looked back down at his tablet and scribbled 4th finger before looking back up.

"Please, have a seat. We've barely begun and I have so many questions already." He was sharing pretty freely. He could tell that, even if he didn't trust him, he certainly didn't think he was one of them. This was a lot of very good information to send back to SWORD in his report. Once he got word whether or not this was legitimate or delusion, he could figure out how to proceed properly with this patient.

"They've tried," David shrugged. He said it casually as if he'd experienced it enough that he was almost used to it. "I was even in hospital recently thanks to them. Got the scar to prove it."

Well, it wasn't even quite scarred yet, still healing.

"Transform?" He shook his head. "No, their 'human' forms aren't quite the same. But most can't properly bend their fourth finger," he explained. At least that was what he observed and had been told. That didn't mean that was the entire truth.

[sadiebrin]

What was that about? The narrowed eyes, the skeptical tone? Run. "You can ask him if you don't believe me." She tenderly placed the man on the table bed, heart pattering uneasily with the movement. Sadie took an instinctive step back as the nurse moved closer to her. Did he say anything about it? Should she answer honestly? What would that mean for him?

Blue eyes flickered to the man's, trying to read his expression, before she shrugged. "Something about stopping someone, I think. I don't know the details."

She quirked a brow as the other said he'd be able to patch the wound himself, expression wary and mildly doubtful. Maybe he would be able to, who was she to say? Though his earlier stumbling about in the woods made her feel that was unlikely.

A shadow of a smirk tugged at the soldier's lips as the nurse let her professionalism slip a moment. She watched as the man looked around, eyes seemingly drifting to his wrist and then about the room instead. He was searching the walls?

"Do you want the time?" She asked, mildly confused.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[agentsterling]

"You won't be released back to work without my signing off on it. Good to know you aren't going to lie and appeal to my better nature to accomplish it though." Jason turned from David and retrieved small paper tablet from his desk. As he looked up he noticed David checking out his hands and he himself looked down at them curiously.

"So why not kill you then? Why send you to therapy? Discredit you? Make it so no one believes you even if you did speak out? Yes, murder does seem messier." He answered his own question, mulling it over and trying to get into David's mindset. Perhaps trying to think like them.

"Does it manifest in the hands? Do you see something in the hands that indicates someone isn't authentic? I'm curious as to how you identify the extraterrestrials. Did you witness one transform? Do you have the power to see through their disguises? I'm most curious."

”No, it’s really not,” David responded, irritation in his voice. “I don’t worry about it because I’m not delusional.”

‘You are safe here.’

Was he, really?

David stopped in the room and turned to face the therapist, rather than moving to sit. He looked at the man’s hands, studying them. They seemed okay, but he still wasn’t entirely convinced.

“See, that’s part of the problem. They take up roles in society; doctors, police, military officials… They know I know about them and they find different ways to get to me to try and stop me getting proof to those who’ll listen.”

[agentsterling]

"The fact that you didn't make this choice is precisely why you should be worried about your mind." We couldn't always see our flaws and unusual behaviors. For someone to point it out, to make it mandatory to have it looked into, was cause for alarm. He'd read this man's file, he knew what he was up against, but he needed to be sure it was legitimate before passing it along to SWORD.

Jason observed the way the man kept his distance. No doubt he thought he was one of the aliens he had been accusing people of being left and right. He was interested to see how this delusion manifested. Was he seeing him as an alien? Were the aliens he encountered shape shifters for him to be suspicious of him and everyone around him? SWORD had given him limited access to certain types of known aliens in order to look for key words that might indicate their claims are true. Shapeshifting aliens had been among them.

Perhaps this case was one for SWORD. Excellent. That meant this man would be their problem soon.

"I assure you, David... You are safe here." The man had an air of superiority about him. His tone when the man had first introduced himself was cold and even dismissive. This sentence, however, as the patient entered his office, was kinder. Sure, it still held an authoritative sternness, but it was redirected from placing himself above David to more of a fatherly tone. "Even if you don't believe me now, I hope that, in time, you will."

David turned quickly to face the other man, not hiding the suspicion in his expression as he studied the therapist.

Relax. He isn't one. Hopefully.

Would they play therapist to get to him? Yes, they would.

David nodded.

"Yeah, that's me," he said, keeping a couple of steps distance as he followed. Just in case.

"It's really not my mind I'm worried about. This wasn't my choice."

[sadiebrin]

The statement met her ears, and her features softened for a moment. There was something warm about it, something human, and maybe something a little vulnerable, too. He seemed to take comfort in the rhythm beneath her ribs.

"... I do." Sadie agreed gently, darting across the road. And then her brows furrowed slightly. Maybe the statement was more concerning than endearing. Why did he expect she might not have one? Was he that out of it? Or maybe he'd faced off against a vampire. That seemed a logical explanation. "Keep pressure on your side."

Once they'd reached the centre, her eyes flickered down to his with his question. "The nearest hospital. Are you okay with us going in?" She could already smell the antiseptic from outside the doors, and her stomach was unsettled. Relax, you're not the patient here. And they were kind last time. You're fine.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

Just a graze? Sadie quirked a brow, lips parting in surprise as the man reached out with the hand that should've been applying pressure to his wound. Alright, he'd nodded. Time to get to work. She stepped forward as he took in the state of his hand, and maneuvered around it, to the unstained side of his shirt.

"It's not ideal, but I've seen worse." She assured, voice a neutral tone, as though she was on autopilot. "I'm going to use your shirt to apply pressure." She moved to place a hand on the fabric, to weave turquoise energy into it, tightening the fabric in a way she hoped would do the trick for the time being.

Shivering. Cold, both physically and those around her, acting as though she was simply a device to be repaired.

"Here." She took the plaid shirt she'd had over her tank off and wrapped it around his mid back, before pulling it forward under his arms to act as further padding and a bit of a blanket. Something more comfortable than a dress shirt. "I'll carry you, alright? It'll be faster." With that, she scooped him up, and set off closer to home. The berries would have to wait.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

Sadie Brin was minding her own business.

Little did she know, the corner of her lips were stained purple, for she had been berry picking and quality assurance was of the utmost importance, of course. Two baskets had been carried out to the brush; one for her, and one for the family who's farm she resided on. She thought the blackberries could make for a nice treat. A thank you, of sorts. They'd been so kind to her-

What was that?

There was a distant rustle. Something more distinctive, heavier, than a bird or a bunny bouncing about amongst the foliage.

Blue eyes darted in the direction of the sound, and the soldier fell into a crouch. The basket she'd held in one hand was placed beside the other, her palm smushing into the dirt and grass. And then a man came into view. Stumbling, paling, wounded.

Well, "shi-" that did not look good. Still, the soldier stayed in place. She watched him, wary. "You're hurt."

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[agentsterling]

Jason hated this now mandatory part of his job. Ever since his practice had been invaded and taken over by SWORD he'd had to entertain the wackos of the world. Dragged his reputation through the mud so his new overlords could monitor alien activity on earth. He admitted he was well compensated for the hassle but there is no coming back from gaining a name as a therapist to those who claimed to have encountered aliens.

And reputation was everything to a man as prideful as Jason Steele.

Jason watched the man pace the room from behind a monitor, frowning loudly. After a moment he checked his watch, sighed, and got up from his chair. It was time.

Stepping out into the waiting area, Jason greeted the man with one outstretched arm and ushered him toward the office with him.

"David Vincent, I presume? Come, come. Mustn't keep your mind waiting."

Therapy

@agentsterling

"We'd like for you to attend therapy..."

David was sitting in his boss's office staring blankly at the older man.

"You're serious," he realised, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"Look, we can't have you bringing in this sort of attention, it's affecting the firm you see. We can't have our architect flashed across front pages over del-"

"They're not delusions, they're real," David replied impatiently. "The aliens are-"

"Mister Vincent! We have a reported drop in projects since you started this nonsense, it needs to stop."

"They're not delusions."

The manager sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

"David..." he said slowly.

Great, here it comes.

"I hate to do this, but either you attend therapy and stop this, or we're going to have to let you go."

"From the project?"

"From the firm."

David slumped in his own chair. He ran a hand through his hair.

This wasn't the first time he'd been labelled as delusional, the papers themselves did it. Besides the small handful who'd directly witnessed incidents, the government and military men usually said it too.

But fired? It was the one sense of normalcy David had left.

He lifted his head and looked over at the older man. His eyes slowly focused on the man's hands, steeped together as he studied David warily. Was it just him, or was his boss having difficulty holding his hands in that position? Was that the fourth finger?

"I bet you're one of them," David muttered.

"Excuse me?" His boss shifted, one hand on his lap and the other hovering as he decided whether or not to reach for his security button.

Quickly, David got to his feet. Surely he'd seen it. He hadn't imagined it, right?

"You're one of them. You're trying to impersonate my boss and cut me off so I can't afford to travel to investigate anymore, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about David, you need to-"

David suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab the older man's wrist over the desk, knocking a stack of papers in the process, and scattering some on the floor. He missed though as his boss leaned away, then quickly hit his security button with his other hand.

"Show. Me. Your. Hands," David grunted as he reached again and grabbed the man's wrist.

They struggled for a moment before the office door banged open and two security guards burst in, quickly moving to restrain David.

"Let me go! That's not our boss damn it let me go!"

The manager just shook his head in disbelief. "Take him out. David Vincent does not return to this office until he's successfully completed therapy. And if he tries, I will press charges."

So here he was: David Vincent, the apparently delusional, sitting in a waiting room chair for mandatory therapy.

He sat hunched over, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His job? They really went after his job. He was sure of it. Goddamn aliens just couldn't leave him alone, even when he wasn't actively working against them now?

Angry, he stood up. He moved, as if to knock the magazines off the coffee table, then stopped. Odds were that the therapist was already watching him, or a receptionist at least, right? With a huff, David turned and started pacing instead.

[sadiebrin]

"Sorry." Sadie mumbled as she caught the man's flinch. She'd tried to set him down gently, but she knew even the slightest jostling likely wasn't comfortable given his injury.

She wasn't quite sure why he was so fixated on the time, but a nod met his words all the same. She didn't have a watch on her either, nor a phone to show him the time. "I'll try to check in a little while, if you'd like."

As the nurse began working on the wound, the soldier found her arms wrapping around her waist. There was a metallic scent in the air, alongside the anesthetic, and nausea bubbled in her stomach. Walk around a little- or maybe sit down? No. She didn't want to sit. But pacing probably wasn't ideal, either. I don't know. I don't know... She rubbed at her arms. Hands were not gripping them. She wasn't being directed towards a chair, or table. You're fine. Just breathe.

A quirked brow was tossed the others' way. He didn't want to stay overnight? She couldn't blame him for that, but it did sound risky, unless he had enhanced healing abilities or something. "Do you live far from here?"

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

She considered his response, able to relate to that feeling all too well. "You do, but I think this is unfortunately your best option." Sadie empathized, considering adding trust me, I'm not eager to go in either, but resisting. He didn't need to consider her issues on top of everything else right then.

His follow up question was met with a tentative nod. "I'll stick around for a bit." With that, she pushed the doors open as best she could manage while carrying him. Less than elegant, but that was hardly integral.

The scent of antiseptic filled her nose. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lights. White coats stood in the distance. Sadie's heart pounded beneath her ribs.

"Hey, I have someone who needs help over here!"

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

Someone was rushing at them. Sadie tightened her hold on the man in her arms, an instinctual tension in her frame despite knowing she'd been the one to request the attention. Despite feeling reasonably confident the woman was coming to help rather than harm.

"He was shot. I don't know who did it, I just-I just came across him." She explained, following the woman as she gestured to the nearby room. The soldier's eyes darted about, taking in everything she could. Noting other people, patients and doctors alike, possible exits, any signs of security cameras.

The layout was familiar, but barely. It had been a while since she'd been there; since she'd seized out in the fields and had apparently only begrudgingly agreed to go to the hospital once the paramedics had allowed Oline to accompany her.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

She kept an eye on him as he flinched, watching for signs of further distress or lash out. Once she secured his shirt around the wound, she went to pick him up and- Okay. Maybe not?

"You couldn't walk as far as that tree a few minutes ago, and you've got an actively bleeding injury. I don't plan on dropping you, if that's what you're concerned about."

A moment later and the initial plan commenced. Sadie jogged through the forest, and then paused for a second at the edge. Her little home was in view, as well as Derek, Oline and Madison's. She didn't love the idea of a stranger, and especially a stranger who seemed to be in trouble with someone, knowing where she lived without more details. She made a right towards the road. This was when a cell phone would come in handy.

Didn't feel that bad? "Yeah, that's typical." She agreed, distractedly.

Once they reached the road side, the soldier did a mental calculation of how far it was to the nearest hospital. She could try to run for it... that might actually be faster, by the time an ambulance got there and drove back. It was further than a couple blocks, but she could run faster now that they were on pavement. She didn't have to be so conscientious about tripping over a tree root or something. Besides, she knew the way. She'd been there. "It's not too far." She adjusted her grip on him before darting down the road. About five blocks, two turns and a couple crosswalks later, and they were at the doors to the medical centre.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

What's wrong with your face? Sadie quirked a brow, bewilderment evident. It took her a moment to recall the purple stain on her fingers, and connect the dots. She was just about to answer when she saw the glint of metal, and on instinct the dirt of the forest floor lashed up in a clumped, snake like wad, and yanked the weapon away, down to the forest floor. Within seconds it was covered in the soil, out of easy reach.

She was furious. Months. Months without any trouble. Months of recovery. And within a moment, a random man shows up, and proves her instincts right. Makes sense of her urge to crouch down every time there was the crack of a branch in the distance. Of why she practically clung to the walls of every shop she sought up the energy to enter.

She lunged forwards, and made to pin him to the tree he slumped up against, to grab his shirt by his collar bone. "Who are you? Who are you with?"

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

One of them. Well that could mean a number of things. Hydra. Shield. Mutants. “One of who?” She clarified firmly, taking a step back as he seemed more eager to get away than engage in further combat. She kept an eye on him all the same, on his hands especially, in case he made for another weapon.

Oh. And there he went.

She furrowed a brow and stepped towards him more tentatively this time. Had to stop them. That was vague, too. It seemed he was hiding something. But so was she. And based on him getting about three steps away before sprawling out on the forest floor- “You need help. Will you let me help you?” They could work out the further who and why of the matter later.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin

[sadiebrin]

Architect... architect? Houses. Buildings. They designed them, right? "Then why did you point a gun at me?" Blue eyes flickered to his raised hand with momentary alarm. No visible weapons. Still, she probably shouldn't have gotten so close. There was no telling what abilities he could have up his sleeve. The woman flinched as he made contact, but his hand seemed to be just that. No unexpected abilities; as far as she could sense, at least. Not that that was saying much.

She maintained her footing easily, despite his weak attempts to push her away. "How did you get hurt, David?" Her tone was still one of warning, curt and gruff. She was looking for red flags, for information as much as she was asking out of concern.

David Vincent was in trouble.

After an encounter that had led to him stopping a small, local group of aliens, he had once again escaped. 

He had successfully stopped their little plan, but he hadn't escaped unscathed.

He was lucky at least that it hadn't been one of their weapons, but all that changed was that instead of being incinerated, David had been shot.

He should have stopped already to tend to it, but David had wanted to be sure he had gotten away from those pursuing him. 

He was tired, sore and bleeding. He stumbled through the brush, one hand pressed to his side, the other with a firm grip on the gun he'd snatched off them, still not convinced he had escaped them.

@sadiebrin