#izombie rewatch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ittybluebell · 11 months ago

Text

Itty Bitty Brains - iZombie g/t fanfic (ao3) | Chapter 2

Prev | Next

The beans that worked here were fucking weird.

It'd been a day since Atom had moved in. He'd gotten good borrowings in the night - food, building supplies, etc - and alternated between working and sleeping during the day. He was constructing a lean-to out of cardboard and a Tupperware lid when the sounds of conversation had him pausing to listen in.

"... brain's made... into some kind of astrology nut... There's just... constantly in my head... understand the world better, but at the same time, it's the greatest mystery that I can't wait to solve."

"Right, well," said another voice, one Atom hadn't heard before, "why don't you focus on solving our mystery? You know, the murdered woman whose brain you turned into a hot pocket."

"It's called a calzone, Clive. And yeah, I got it - no pondering the meaning of life as we know it and how everything is somehow connected but not at the same time and- yes, I'm completely focused. I promise."

"Good," said 'Clive.' "Because we're going to interview the widow again. She gave us what she could, but her wife was just murdered - she was barely coherent. I'm hoping that today we can get some information about the break-in. Come on - let's go."

And they were gone, leaving Atom utterly flabbergasted with his jaw hanging and his eyes bulging. She ate... no. No way. Mm-mm. Atom was not living with cannibals. That human bean did not eat-

Oh, he was going to be sick. Just thinking about- nope. Nuh-uh. He was gonna puke. No more thinking about it. Just ignore it and move on. They were not talking about eating brains because that was- that was disgusting. Nobody did that. Nobody ate people and just casually brought it up like the weather. Atom remembered the sound of food being prepared and thrown in the toaster oven. He remembered the tantalizing smell when it came out, how it made his mouth water and his stomach growl something fierce. If that was brains-

Oh, good lord.

Atom made it a few paces away from his campsite before he emptied his guts onto the floor. He heaved and coughed, shuddering as saliva and the taste of bile filled his mouth. He spat and wiped his mouth, hoping that was the end of it, when his mind flashed back to the scent of bread and cheese and fle-

"HRGH."

Oh, yeah. That was gonna fuck him up for a few days.

Night came. Atom found himself several unopened packages of needles in a drawer that was cracked open enough for him to slip inside. He broke one out of its packaging and hefted its weight. It was perfect. The bright green end fit into his palm like it belonged there. He slid the metal into a loop on his pants and the needle sat on his hip like a knight's sword. There was a hop to his stride for the rest of the night, his pride and excitement leading him to nearly skip across the linoleum. He collected other bits and baubles, but nothing compared to the needle. The weight on his hip solidified his place there, giving him some sense of belonging. The dry pasta and staples came close, but they didn't have the same oomph. He had a sword; a symbol of his independence and self-sufficiency. How could he know fear when he wielded such a weapon?

The lights flicked on.

Evidently, Atom still knew fear.

He threw himself under the desk. The pasta shell he'd been carrying clattered to the floor. He swore under his breath, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruding human bean. Pasta didn't belong in an office. If he could just scooch a liiiittle closer...

Footsteps. A sigh from a man. The examiner? 'Clive'? Someone else? Who came into a morgue this late? Wasn't there bad juju around morgues? Fear of bodies coming to life? Ghosts? Just leave! Only the dead and things that go bump in the night belong in a morgue at this hour.

Massive legs swept into Atom's vision. Oh, of course the bean was coming into the office. Of course. Why not? Go make yourself a cup of tea, while you're at it! The human stomped closer. Atom shrunk in on himself, swallowing harshly. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. The shoes stopped dead in front of him. Atom felt like breaking into tears.

Two giant fingers pinched the pasta shell and picked it up. There was another sigh from above. Atom held his breath. Something cold and paralyzing settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't move, could barely breathe.

"Liv," the bean said, annoyed. He rounded the desk and settled in the chair. The single piece of conchiglie made several bouncing clacks as it landed on the wood above. Atom slowly and shakily exhaled into his hand. He turned around, coming face-to-face with a pair of shoes crossed at the ankle and a chair wheel.

"Holy shit," Atom said, closer to a gust of air than words.

The bean muttered to himself as he typed on his keyboard and flipped through pages. The sounds of pen scratching paper and clothes rustling were too loud in Atom's ears, challenged only by the thud of his own heartbeat. Atom had to remind himself that no, the human bean could not possibly hear it.

Atom began to rise, only to freeze when the bean shifted. The shoes swapped places, crossing again at the ankle. Atom pushed himself the rest of the way up. He eyed the doorway. Should he risk it or stay here? The bean was doing paperwork. But he might notice something small moving in his peripherals. Beans were hunters, after all. Atom had a greater chance of going unseen if he stayed put, out of the way. Right under the giant man's nose.

"Cause of death," he heard the human bean mutter, "stab... wound... to left lung."

That gave Atom pause. Of course he was going over Jenny's medical report. There were no other recent bodies.

"Wife found her in the morning," the man said. "Window was jimmied open, money and phone were missing. Robbery gone murderous. Knife was a weapon of opportunity. Unfortunately, there were no cameras to capture the break-in. Which means it's going to be almost impossible to track the killer down without Liv's visions."

Visions? Did she have superpowers? From eat- nope, not going there.

But they were looking for the killer? Atom frowned. He remembered that evening very clearly. He could recall every detail as if watching it play out again. He'd peeked out from behind the painting, and then it happened. And he was horrified. He couldn't remain in that house, not after what he'd seen. He was near suffocating in its atmosphere. Leaving was the best option, which he still stood by. Kind of. Okay, so maybe not - the cannibalism and 'visions' bullshit was really making him regret that decision.

"But if the robber was wearing a mask, which they were unless they're an idiot..." The bean groaned and scrubbed his face. "We're back to square one."

Goddammit. Something inside of Atom ached. Something righteous that screamed 'You know! You can help!' and urged him to tell someone. He knew what happened. He saw the whole thing. But what could he do? He was a borrower. He couldn't reveal himself - purge the very idea! Could he leave a clue? But then they would wonder who and go looking for him. He couldn't help. He wouldn't risk his people, his family, his life for one measly bean and some 'righteous feeling.' He was frustrated, not suicidal.

"Get over yourself," Atom growled, combing through his hair and catching knots. He pulled at them, untangling untameable curls. He'd done it since he was a child and was unable to cull the habit. His mother discouraged it, so he learned not to do it in front of her. It was calming, in a way. It helped in the same way that playing with his sleeves or a tool cleared his head.

Atom sat. He would wait for the bean to finish up. There was no reason to put himself at unnecessary risk. He leaned against the metal leg and closed his eyes, listening to the mumbled ramblings of the human. He mostly spoke of the mystery around Jenny's death, but he did mention cures (for what?) and rats.

That gave Atom a start. There were rats here? Of course there were. Because there wasn't enough for Atom to worry about already - the universe just had to add rats.

Rats were borrowers' number one enemy. Rats killed indiscriminately, destroyed homes - families - and encouraged humans to hire exterminators. Then came the traps and poison and cages that forced borrowers to flee their homes or risk death, or worse, discovery. Atom had to move. Again. Any day now, the pest control van would roll in and they'd start spewing fumes and setting up their bone-breaking traps.

"Oh, shit, I forgot to feed you guys tonight," the bean said.

Atom watched the skyscraper of a man go off to the back room. And then he heard eager squeaking. Realization dawned on him. They're pet rats. Lab rats. Relief flooded his body. Well, that changed everything. He didn't have to move.

Atom's head shot up. I need to move. Now! While the bean was occupied. Atom scrambled to his feet and wasted no time sprinting out of the office. He craned his neck to see into the back room. The medical examiner wasn't visible, but the popping of a plastic lid was plenty enough to place him there.

Atom made it back to the safety of the walls without further issue. He melted into his sleeping bag, deflating with a massive sigh and an adrenaline-fueled laugh. That's enough excitement for tonight, he thought.

In the morning, Atom stood atop the very desk that saved his hide last night. Every instinct in his being told him this was a horrible idea and what was he thinking? But he couldn't take it. His own guilt, knowing he could help out but just stood by and did nothing, was overpowering. There was a thrill in being out in the open during the day. His nerves were shot and his hands trembled so badly that he missed his hook throw the first two times, but he couldn't deny the exhilaration that he felt. The forbidden nature gave him a rush like no other.

Atom struggled to hold the pen upright. He wrapped his arms around it in a tight embrace and used his whole body to guide the ink, dragging the pen across the page as he walked. Finished, he rolled the pen back to its original spot. He gave a satisfied nod and proceeded to climb down to the floor, but not before grabbing a paperclip and sticky note. With a sharp yank of his shoulder, the hook came loose and fell into his waiting hand. The sharp point was a hair shy of slicing open his arm. It was a serious risk, injuring yourself with your own hook - you had to know which angles were safe to catch it and which ones were best to just let it hit the floor, even at the risk of making noise. Atom didn't like to risk it, but today felt different. He felt different.

Atom wound up the rope as he jogged back to the kitchen. It was a quick in-and-out errand - go, leave the message, come back. He was riding a high, but he didn't expect it to last long. And his luck wasn't something to be tested. Not like this. He got away with too much lately - his luck was bound to come crashing down around him. And he didn't want to be out in the open when it did.

"Liv! I got the... coffees. Right, then. I'll just leave yours here! For when you get back."

Fuck.

Atom's heart dropped to his stomach. The doctor was here. Atom knew he shouldn't be out in the daytime and he went and did it anyway! What the hell did he do now? He was gonna be seen and captured and dissected and-

Hide! I need to hide. Atom whipped around, searching. Shit shit shit shit. He was stuck in the middle of the floor. But the fridge was right there. Would he make it?

He had to try.

Atom made a break for it. His breath came in great, terrified puffs. His heart pounded louder than the bean's footsteps, beating so much faster than own footfalls. His jaw clenched. Hard. Hard enough to make his teeth ache. His neck prickled furiously, instincts yelling at him to find cover. There were eyes looking for him. A human was too close. He wasn't safe.

Just a bit closer. He was almost there!

"What-" started the doctor's voice.

Atom dropped like a hot stone. He slid across the linoleum, leaving a trail in the dust under the fridge. His chest heaved, sweat damp on his face and back. He laid on his back for a few more moments, basking in the cool air that felt so good on his burning hot skin.

The bean didn't see him. He was alright. Everything was alright.

The bean was in his office. He got the note, if the phone call in the other room was any indication. Atom got away with it. But that was too close. He'd only been here for two days and already had two close encounters with the one human bean. He had to be far more careful from now on; a third save was asking too much. He needed tunnels and a proper home. With all the staples and thumbtacks and pins he'd collected, he felt confident in his ability to make a ladder to the ceiling.

After his heart stopped beating out of his chest, though. A couple more minutes here. 'Here' was nice and cool. Yeah. A nap couldn't hurt, either.

Hours later, Atom had himself a functional stairway up to the ceiling. It was precarious and he'd feel more comfortable with an elevator, but he didn't have those kinds of materials yet. There was an upstairs to this place that he wanted to explore. It was a police station, right? Who knew what sorts of goodies they kept up there. Rulers and snacks and tape and pencils... oh, it would be glorious, he could already tell. His only greater wish was for a craft store next door.

The beans knew about his note. The medical examiner told his friends about the tip that was mysteriously left in his office by someone "With just awful penmanship. I mean, it's like a six-year-old broke into my office and scribbled on my work."

Yeah, screw you, too, buddy. You try writing with a pen bigger than your body.

Liv and Clive were following up on Atom's tip. It probably wouldn't lead to anything without proof, but at least he tried. It satisfied his desire to share his knowledge and that's all that mattered. Not solving the actual murder. Why would he care about what happened to beans? He'd only lived in Jenny and Sara's home for... seven years.

Shit. Maybe he did care.

No. Humans were tyrants with no regard for others. They would kill or torture or sell borrowers if they got their giant hands on one. He couldn't be sympathetic. He couldn't afford sympathy for beans. Just like he couldn't afford sympathy for a rat or raccoon. No, he didn't care about Jenny or Sara. What a ridiculous notion. Atom shook his head as he pulled himself onto the final thumbtack, curly hair flopping around him. He climbed over a wood beam and examined the dark, dusty space that laid above the ceiling. There were cobwebs everywhere - all of them vacant and perfect for sewing and building. Atom rubbed his hands together. Yes, this would do nicely. He just needed that elevator and construction could begin.

Prev | Next

2 notes · View notes