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just-horrible-things · 5 months ago

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‘Verse: Resistance AU: Healer and Handler, co-author @whump-sprite

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The overnight footage from Alex’s cell – and the whole block – has been deleted.

“System update fucked up the datetime on the cameras,” Peterson claims. “The rolling store got cleared early. Nothing I can do.”

It's absolute bullshit of course. Nowhere else in the facility was affected. But Peterson isn’t budging, and if the footage is somehow hidden rather than deleted outright, Ari doesn’t have the tech know how to find it.

She files an incident report for misuse of electronic resources. But unless Peterson's pulled this shit before she knows he won't get more than a slap on the wrist. Even if they don't swallow his “system update” story, he’ll say it was just a fuck-up and they’ll believe that.

She only has three suspects. She can't imagine any of those creeps putting a stooge up to it – there’s no way they’d miss out on the personal satisfaction.

So Ari spends about an hour – in between monitoring the live feeds and answering calls – trawling the recording from the closest untouched cameras, taking note of who enters and leaves the dead zone and when. Going by the blood on the floor this morning, the incident probably happened earlier in the night rather than later, but that’s not a lot to narrow it down by.

Unfortunately it turns out Frazier and Henson were both working last night. It shouldn’t be surprising, they probably talked each other into this petty little show of spite. Ari’s reminded of the time Riven spent a month stealing the ink out of one of the printers just to get under that one analyst’s skin.

She files another report, this one against Frazier. He's not supposed to have access to the healers anymore. But this isn't the first time she’s reported the same damn thing. They'll revoke his clearance, again, and in a few weeks he'll find another excuse to get someone to reinstate it. Probably Peterson again, the little rat bastard.

Probably not Peterson, she doesn't actually think he has that authority. It's just easy to be angry at his stupid smarmy face right now.

Frazier or Henson. 50-50 odds, but if she confronts the wrong one, she’ll look like an idiot. Better to be sure.

She might be able to get the answer out of Riven, he does like to run his mouth. But not today, because Frazier and Henson will still be asleep at home and they probably won’t have filled Riven in on their little ”prank” yet.

Back to Plan A, then.

She takes the time to pick up a plate of cafeteria food for Alex's afternoon meal. It'll be lukewarm by the time she gets it down to the cells, but it’s still better than his usual fare.

She hears the healer jump at the sound of the door. Sounds like he knocked a knee or elbow against the wall or floor. Hopefully not his head. He’s scrambling to get on his knees as she lets herself in.

He’d gotten less scared about that. Ariadne’s never punished him for being slow to get up, or even for skipping the formalities. But it’s no surprise he’s more hasty again with fresh stripes as a painful reminder of proper discipline.

Even though it wasn’t discipline.

“Easy,” she greets him, “it’s just your dinner.” She’s pleased to see his eyes widen with anticipation as he sees what she has for him. He’s not so miserable that he can’t be happy about a decent meal.

He reaches for his hot water first, like always. If she can convince them to change one thing about standard protocol it should be that – or turning the thermostat for the cells up. More heat getting into the healers, one way or another.

She forgot to pick up his sweater from the corner of his cell this morning. She was going to get rid of it, but Alex has struggled back into it despite the dried blood and the rents in the back and despite how much it must have pulled his back getting it on. Ariadne ought to take it off him – it’s going to start stinking soon – but she can’t quite bring herself to. Not while he’s eating.

It was only a couple of months ago she had to hold every bite to his mouth. He’d twitch at everything she said, and he could barely get a flicker of magic out without flinching and choking on fear. He’s doing so well for her. All it took was a bit of a gentler touch.

“I need to know which of them came in here and whipped you.” Terror is immediately stark in his eyes. “I won’t tell them you told me. I’ll tell them I got it out of security, okay? But I need to know. So that I can keep it from happening again.”

He doesn’t trust her. She sees it in his eyes. He doesn’t believe she has any interest in stopping them. Frustration itches, but she pushes it down. It’s a lot more to ask of him than trusting her to let him shower without raping him. He’s still doing well.

“This isn’t negotiable,” she prompts. It only takes the faintest hint of steel to make him flinch. “I’m s-s-sorry –” “I know. I’m not mad – not at you. But I need to know.”

He shrinks in on himself. Patience, Ari cautions herself. Her steady attention and expectation is enough. He’s just scared.

“N-Neil,” he whispers eventually. “I-I mean, F-Frazier, sir.” “Okay,” Ariadne agrees levelly, “Good. Well done.”

She makes herself take a deep breath and turn away from Alex so that he knows it’s not directed at him before she lets herself exhale anger.

“Jealous fucking creep. What a petty, insecure dipshit of a guy.” Alex looks shocked. But there’s something else too, something that could be appreciation or even humour just about edging out the fear. “I’d kick his teeth in if I had the chance,” Ariadne confides with a hint of a hard, conspiratorial smirk. Alex almost, almost smiles back. “I’d…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish the thought.

Ari grins at him anyway, just for a second before she turns serious again. “I will not be telling him that you told me,” she promises, “so don’t you go fessing up, okay? They don’t record audio from these cells, so it’s between you and me.”

The healer looks nervous, but he nods his head. “Okay, sir.”

She’s about to leave him when she remembers about the sweater. It's probably unsalvageable, but…

She crouches beside him and takes the hem to get a better look. As she thought, the blood’s the least of the damage. The fabric is practically shredded, not worth mending even if she was inclined to, which she isn't. Darning a healer's clothes would be ridiculous.

“I’m – sorry sir.” Alex’s voice is suddenly choked, giving away the tears in his eyes. “I – I didn’t have time t-to take it off…” “Hey. It’s okay.” “I would’ve – I d-didn’t want to ruin it but he didn’t –” “It’s not your fault. Hey, listen to me. I’ll get you a new one. It’s no big deal.” His throat bobs as he tries to swallow his tears. “Thank you, sir,” he manages. “I’ll get you a new one,” Ari repeats. “It’s okay.”

She can’t even pat his shoulder. Fucking dipshit Neil. She pats the healer's head instead. His curls are starting to grow in again. He sniffs, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

When she leaves, Ari’s careful to close the door softly. She changes the code on the lock again. Frazier’s clearly getting his buddies in security to sort it for him, but it’ll slow him down. It’s an obstacle in his way. And if he’s going to be fucking petty, two can play at that game.

Finding Frazier's shift pattern is a little more work than finding Henson’s. He's on nights all week, so Ariadne could catch him tonight by staying late. She doesn't much feel like rising to the bait though, not when she has nothing to use against him and it'd only be giving him the opportunity to gloat.

Before she goes home, she spends another while crawling the security feeds, trying to figure out the options that she doesn't usually have any reason to use.

If she knew how to have the cell footage make a second copy of itself or something, somewhere those assholes couldn't wipe it… but it would probably be an infosec breach if she did.

She'll find something. Frazier clearly doesn't realize what thin ice he's on after the last round of allegations. He doesn't get to mess with Ari's healer.

#my writing #verse: resistance #au: healer and handler #handler!ariadne #kept!alex #noncon mention

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just-horrible-things · 5 months ago

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‘Verse: Resistance AU: Healer and Handler, co-author @whump-sprite

Whipped, pt3 [ First | Prev | Next ]

Their list isn’t too bad. It looks like the night was pretty quiet. Ariadne has time to grab another coffee without the doctors getting on her case. She doesn’t need both hands free to manage Alex – not for the first few patients, anyway.

Aside from how drawn and shaky he is, you wouldn’t know he’d been whipped hard that night. Some of the newer healers get sullen after punishment. Some of them get extra-flinchy and polite. But Alex is always silent and obedient and today’s no different.

Ariadne sees the signs of exhaustion, though. His wheeze is worse after just a couple of routine cases, and in between patients he’s rubbing hard at his wrists. When she puts a hand on his shoulder – lightly – to signal they’re moving on, she can feel his shaking. He knows better than to cough on the patients, but as soon as they’re away from the bedside he coughs hard into his mask.

Normally Ariadne tries to give him a break about halfway down the list, provided the nurses aren’t snapping at their heels. Today he’s doubling over hard enough to need Ariadne’s support before they’re even close to half way. “Alright. Water break.” The gratitude is in his eyes, but he doesn’t have the breath to thank her.

Ari seethes quietly to herself while she waits for Cole to get done with the coffee machine. This proves everything she’s been saying. She’s right about it being an energy. The magic is used up when the healers heal, and regenerated while they rest in their cells. If they’re warmer and better fed, it regenerates faster. If they can’t rest, they don’t make as much magic.

Alex did better when she gave him more slack. Last night he got less sleep, less rest, and today he has less magic. The sheer obviousness of it is frustrating.

Cole finishes up and Ariadne steps up to the coffee machine. Alex shuffles forwards on his knees to stick close to her leg. The machine is slow to respond to button presses and she bites back the urge to hit the damn thing.

“Rough night?” Cole asks. For a second Ariadne takes it for a jab about Alex. She scrutinizes Cole for any hint of mockery, any clue that he was in on it. But honestly he just looks… fucking hungover. His expression is miserable indifference, just a guy trying to make some small talk over his coffee as he slurps it and winces repeatedly at the heat. His healer is waiting a few paces away, hands folded in her lap and eyes down. “Irritating morning,” Ariadne answers. “You?” “Yeah…” another wince, rueful. “Rough night. Rough night.”

Ari’s coffee is ready. She swaps the cup out, presses the button for hot water. Waits another thirty seconds for the machine to acknowledge the command.

“Healer acting out?” “No,” she sighs. “Personal shit.” “Right. Well. Good luck with that. Better get back to work, I guess.”

Alex downs his water like it’s soda, like he always. Ariadne wonders sometimes if he’s got asbestos for a throat or if he just doesn’t care about getting burned.

“Back to it then.” His shoulders slump a little further, but he gets up.

She knows him by now, knows the pattern of his magic. The way the glow fades faster, takes longer to get up to strength, starts to flicker and falter as he runs out. The way he gasps when he’s close to coughing, and needs a chance to step away from the patients to get it out. She knows when to expect blood under his mask, and when it’s likely to start seeping through.

She knows the look when he’s about to hit the deck, too. She steps in behind him, close enough to catch him if he starts to slump, and watches his magic flicker as his hands shake. He doesn’t always hear verbal commands when he’s close to the edge of consciousness, so she takes his wrists, counting in her head to gauge how much magic the patient’s had.

As soon as she reckons it’s enough that the doctors would approve it, she lifts the healer’s hands away. His legs buckle, and he collapses against Ari’s front. The contact knocks a quiet mew of pain out of him.

“Is that it?” the patient demands. “Yeah, sorry. Healing’s a limited resource.” “Can’t you make it do more?” “I can and I will, but you’re not the only one who needs it. I need to move on.”

If the disgruntled patient has anything more to say, Ari ignores it, half-dragging Alex as he struggles to get his feet back under him.

“... done.. sir?” he pleads threadily as soon as they pause. Ari grimaces. “Not yet. Do one more for me.” He doesn’t have the breath to agree, but she knows he’ll do as he’s told.

He’s probably going to faint. She tries to avoid it as a general rule, but it’s not always possible. She really tries to avoid making him go back to it after he faints. That’s what leaves healers unconscious and drowning in their own blood. She’s noticed Mederos following her lead, at least with the weaker healers. Drawing a line and declaring them done after the first time they pass out.

Henson says it only encourages them to fake it, but you have to be some kind of idiot – or very new to this maybe – to be fooled. They breathe different when they’re really out.

Ari almost thinks they’re going to manage that one more without any fainting. Alex takes it slow and steady – he’s finally starting to trust that that’s what Ari wants from him when he’s almost out. The patient breathes easier second by second as the pain eases.

Then all of a sudden Alex is slumping forwards and Ari has to catch him hard to stop him tipping onto the patient. He slides down her body and she lets him drop to the floor at her feet. When she looks up the patient is making owl eyes at her. “Damn fragile healers,” she grumbles. “Looks like he’s out of magic, sorry. Bad luck. Either I’ll see you again tomorrow, or the doctor’ll tell you you’re in the clear.”

Alex isn’t coming round instantly, so Ariadne drags him. Once she has the space, she hauls him up by the arms and hefts him over her shoulders. The nurses prefer the handlers to drag their healers, but they can just deal with it. Ari’s not clumsy enough to go around knocking things over with his head and feet.

“Agent Milonas,” Dr. Lang calls to her on her way out. “Done already?” “Yes, doc,” she answers shortly. “Healer’s out.” “Did you get to Sanchez yet? His superiors are breathing down my neck.” “I’ll do him first thing tomorrow,” Ariadne promises. “By tomorrow we’ll have some new emergency.”

The healer picks the exact wrong time to start to stir and to cough.

“Look, there he is. Still functional. Come do Sanchez now. It won’t take long, it's only a fracture.” Ariadne puts Alex down so that he can cough more effectively, but Dr. Lang seems to take it as assent. “I’ll accompany and sign the discharge immediately. I just need him off my ward and out of my hair.” “If he heals more now he’ll be next to useless tomorrow,” Ariadne argues. “If we do it first thing tomorrow he’ll still manage a normal round after.” “I don’t care,” Lang returns, then softens it to, “Then let’s hope tomorrow is as quiet as today.” “Why is Sanchez a priority? He’s fine.” “Operational reasons.” Lang rolls her eyes. “Apparently he’s needed urgently somewhere else. Come on, Milonas, it might be the end of your shift but I don’t have all day.”

“I - c-can do it, sir,” Alex croaks. Ari’s shocked into silence. He never volunteers for extra work. No – he did once, when he offered to heal Ariadne’s ankle. That was a pretty obvious bid to curry favour. What does he think the stakes are this time? “Wonderful,” Lang declares, “good healer. That’s the attitude we like to see.”

There’s really no arguing now, so reluctantly Ariadne helps Alex back to his feet and leads him after Lang.

The doctor is at least right that it doesn’t take long. Not all kinds of injury seem to take the same amount out of the healers. Broken bones are pretty easy, Ari reckons, as long as the break is clean. Alex doesn’t even pass out, although he turns grey and needs his hands holding in place.

When he’s done, he struggles to stand up. Ari picks him up again, this time only half over her shoulder with her arms behind his thighs like he’s a kid. He clings to her unsteadily, arms around her neck.

Once they’re out of the hospital proper, he coughs long and hard. The force of it leaves him whimpering softly between gasps, and his grip on Ariadne loosens enough that she thinks he’s probably half-fainting again.

She can’t pat his back to soothe him, so she just carries him in silence back to his cell. He slumps exhaustedly to the floor as she sets him down, and mumbles gratitude for the blankets as she tucks them around his body. The mask comes away from his face trailing bloody mucus. He holds still while Ari wipes his face clean.

“What was that back there, hey?” “S-sir?” “You volunteering to do another patient.” He looks wounded. “It wasn’t a bad thing,” Ari’s quick to reassure him, “you did good. Just you never usually volunteer like that.” He winces again, hearing that as admonishment too. Ari exhales. “That’s not a criticism. Of course you don’t volunteer for more work, I don’t expect you to. Just, you did today. What’s going through your head?”

He blinks up at her, still looking hurt but like he’s trying not to be. “I’m… n-not too fragile to, to w-work. Sir.” “Oh, you heard that? That’s not your fault, is it. It's the fault of the fucker who decided to mess you up last night, yeah? Look, I was just – saying that. It doesn’t mean anything. You did good today. You did great.”

Alex is the first to break eye contact, gaze sliding away to settle somewhere in the corner of the cell. Ari’s not sure he appreciates the reassurances. He’s gone closed off again, and it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling beyond tired.

“I c-can work,” he repeats, almost too quiet for Ari to hear. “I know. I know you can. Let’s get some food into you, okay? You must be starving.”

He looks like he’s still more queasy than starving, but Ari takes his breakfast to the break room microwave to reheat, and when she puts it back in front of him hot, he can’t resist. He can never resist anything warm.

That’s how Frazier got him turning towards touch like he does, she understands without wanting to. Body heat is still heat.

She stays to watch Alex eat to be sure he finishes the plate. He needs the calories. He needs more than he gets, really. But there’s a limit to how much extra she can give him without raising too many eyebrows. She’ll bring him something extra for dinner.

[Next]

#my writing #verse: resistance #au: healer and handler #handler!ariadne #kept!alex #noncon mention

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