#they found my phone number. they went looking for my personal information. they’ve been stalking at least one of my social media pages.
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So this chick has been on-and-off again stalking me since high school. I could go into paragraphs of detail (I was about to), but no one wants to read all of that. Suffice to say, I guess she’s had some kind of crush on me for about 15-20 years or so (why??), and every few years it seems she pops up somewhere contacting me to try to persuade me to give her a chance. I should mention we never talked in high school, I actively avoided her, told her I didn’t like her, etc. nothing doing.
Anyway, somehow she’s been on one of my social media pages and saw I was having a hard time lately, so she found my phone number (what?? I hate that you can just find that online) and texted me out of the blue yesterday. Usual protocol is ignore and block so I don’t piss off an unstable person, but they decided to be gross, so
I wasn’t planning on posting anything about this before. If they were creeping around on my pages, mentioning it would only feed into them. Maybe. I don’t know. But this just kind of made me really uncomfortable and their response was shitty. I could have been a lot meaner. I wanted to be. But whatever, that wouldn’t have helped. So I just blocked them and hope that this time it sticks. If they see this, then hey… not cool.
#and then I post this for what? attention?#I dunno… this just made me feel really shitty#like… you can’t just leave me alone?#you know I’m having a rough go at it and you think this is the perfect time to insert yourself into my life?#I don’t care about your puss!#I really really have to reiterate I have never ever had a real conversation with this person#we’ve never talked or hung out and I always avoided them#god this is such high school bullshit. I’m in my fucking 30s. I don’t need this teenage drama.#and I want to imagine all this as just someone who never grew up buuut…#they found my phone number. they went looking for my personal information. they’ve been stalking at least one of my social media pages.#probably twitter but who knows maybe here too#this is like… 15-20 years of this. why? why are you still obsessed with this?#and maybe these texts don’t seem so bad but I’ve had to block them on Facebook too#and that was after my ex and I broke up a few years back#it’s like she waits until my life gets extra shitty and then tries to convince me that we’re old friends & she wants to date finally#fuckin… just… not really cool ya know. damn.#stalker lady… I am not worth all this pining. just move on.#lol but I have been saying “my puss is so wet right now’ to myself all day so that’s a positive#anyway… sorry to post this bullshit. just wanted to vent.#sorry if you read all of this#text
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Continued from THIS
Will was woken up by the sound of a helicopter flying over his house. He groaned, rolled over to grab his phone, and frowned at the display screen.
You have 157 new notifications.
He unlocked the screen and saw most were from Dr. Bloom and Cronos.
“Will, this is Alana Bloom. Please call me when you get up today. It’s important.”
Will listened to three more, his anxiety rising, and went to open the curtain for some sun.
The swarm of reporters that ran at his window made him rear back, shocked, and he closed the curtain again just as he dialed Dr. Bloom.
“Will, thank god. I’ve been so worried.”
Will felt his distress rise and put a hand on his belly.
“He’s broken out, hasn’t he?”
“What? No! No, Hannibal Lecter is still right where he belongs.”
“How did they get my name? Who…?”
She sighed. “Freddie Lounds. She was stalking the parking lot waiting to see an omega in distress and got your information.”
“Any omega could be in distress after going to Cryos. How does that prove….”
“An employee confirmed the news. They’re working on figuring out just who that might have been. Will, I’m so sorry.”
Will took a deep breath that he let out as he sat on the bed again.
“I can say it was a lie.”
“She posted the paperwork that pretty much confirmed it. You can say it’s fake, but…”
Will felt tears fill his eyes as he picked up his tablet and opened TattleCrime. The headline was the first thing he saw.
HANNIBAL LECTER IS GONNA BE A DADDY
His anger rose as he clicked the link, but was soon followed by fear as he read what was inside.
LECTER: I am quite excited to know I’m going to be a father.
“She told him? You couldn’t have opened with that?”
“Will…”
He hung up on her and found Georgia’s office number. She answered on the first ring.
“Will, I—“
“No, let me talk first. I’m suing you and that place for all its worth. How could a company that pretends to pride on caring about the clientele so much be so fucking careless? How---”
“The employee in question has been fired. Cronos does not cond--”
“Do NOT pretend that this whole situation has been fucked up FROM the beginning. You took in that monster of an alpha’s seed because he looked great on paper and now the publicity will be good for you while I’m being stalked by reporters and waxed poetic by a cannibalistic alpha who thinks my kid is his. DO NOT PRETEND THIS IS ABOUT CRONOS.”
There was silence on the other end.
“I apologize. Will…”
“Give me that name, Georgia. Who was it?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. You know how fucked up this all is, and I deserve to know.”
“Will, it’s against the law to even tell you who---”
“You better tell every person in that building to sleep with one eye open from now on. Cuz if my baby’s father DOES get out of prison and kidnap me? I’m gonna send him your way.”
He hung up the phone with tears streaming down his face.
“Fuck.”
His daughter kicked him and he rubbed at his belly trying to smile. “It’s gonna be okay, honey. I promise.”
Will went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face before he took a piss. The relief did nothing for the worry that continued to plague him. He refused to think of his baby as a mistake.
Nothing about her was wrong, no matter who her alpha was.
He washed his hands and stared at himself in a mirror for what felt like an eternity.
He could do this.
Will took a deep breath before he left the bathroom and walked to the door, letting it out just before he opened himself up to chaos.
Swarms of reporters all came at him and the dogs began to bark. Will pulled the door closed and cared very little about how he looked.
“Mr. Graham! Has Hannibal Lecter contacted you?”
“Will! Will look over here!”
“Are you worried for your life, Will?”
“Do you plan on keeping the baby now that you know it might be a monster?”
He glared at the last reporter. “What’s your name?”
The man blinked, confused. “I...my name is Dallas Smith, I work for the Gazette.”
“Do you think it’s wise to piss off a guy who’s carrying the baby of a serial killer? What do you think might happen if he gets out? You think he’ll be happy to know you upset me?”
Dallas turned white. “Are you threatening me?”
Will smiled. “Just asking questions, Mr. Smith.”
He watched as the obvious omega turned tail and took off without answering, then looked at all the others. “Any more questions?”
The silence was deafening.
“None at all?”
“Mr. Graham?”
Will looked at the scared dark haired female alpha to his left. “Yes? Your name?”
“I prefer not to give it,” she said, “I was going to ask….are you worried that Hannibal Lecter might break out of prison to see his baby?”
He shook his head. “I have every faith that he’s securely locked up in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. I’m sure they’ve got him very well monitored and despite how ‘happy’ he is to be a father he’s never going to be one to my daughter.”
Several more cameras went off and Will stood still, refusing to let the worry fill him or show in his face.
“Mr. Graham!”
“Yes?”
“Do you have any names picked out?”
Will blinked. “I...was thinking of calling her Abigail.”
A few more hands went up and Will shook his head.
“That’s all for today. Please leave.”
He turned and went back inside with his heart pounding.
Where had that come from?
There had been no names that caught his attention and yet that one suddenly came to him.
He rubbed his belly and stared down with a smile.
“You like that name, honey? Abigail? Sounds good, right?”
The baby kicked him in response and he laughed with tears in his eyes again.
“Hello, Abigail.”
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6. Passion Project
“What the hell am I reading?” The woman squealed in his ear, “And why is it ALWAYS something bizarre with you?”
“Did my favorite perennial flower get my emails?”
“Simon… you do know that I have both college AND a job to do, right? That not all of us achieve our dreams the first try?”
“I pay you good money for the work that I ask you to do!” Simon complained. “Unlike your day job that both pays you less than your male counterparts and less than you deserve in general.”
“Yeah, well… I live in the real world. Not like there’s some magical train to take me away from society and all it's problems. But, seriously… researching is one thing, but this feels oddly like stalking. First of all… I had to do some very illegal things to get this information - which, yes, I went ahead and did it, because by the time I got to that point I was feeling a little bit insulted by the thought of failing. Secondly… who IS this woman, Simon? How do you even know about her and what are you going to do with this information?”
“I met her in my everyday life and was interested in her, but found a simple background check difficult. I was people watching for a new story, but it’s become more like a passion project, now. But, I feel like you’ve got a lot to tell me about her!” He was teeming with excitement.
“I… found out things, things that I never would have wanted to ever know about anybody and am now honestly considering charging you for the therapy it’s gonna take me to get over this information… Where in your everyday life did you meet this person?”
“Why… what’s… what’s wrong with her?” Simon asked.
“A LOT. But… I don’t know… I guess she’s doing better, if you’re just seeing her out and about, but… I just…” Tulip yelped.
“Tools???” Simon called out.
Deep breathing. Then, she was back. “Sorry. Mikayla’s out, so I’m by myself and EVERYTHING is startling me. I’m gonna send you everything I found and my charges for this information. And Simon… please don’t ever send me anything like this again, and I mean it.”
“I only wanted to find out if she changed her name and why. How difficult could the information have been?”
“Most people don’t just change their names out of boredom, Simon. Also… it isn’t right to look into somebody this way. I’m only giving it to you because I don’t deserve to be the only person who has had to look at this.”
“That bad?” He heard sniffling. “Tools…”
“No, Simon! This is messed up! Don’t ask me for another favor again if you don’t know ANYTHING about the situation!”
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
She let out a deep breath. “Is your mom going to the retreat or whatever this year?”
“Yeah. She’s super excited about it. She says that she hasn’t seen yours in too long. Is she going?”
“Yeah, she was able to scrape up this year to reserve her spot.”
“Mom’s already pulling out all of her Single Mom Squad shit.”
Tulip groaned. “I’m really glad that they had a support group and stuff, but honestly. Why did it become their entire personality for so long?”
“Because it was their little escape from having smartasses like us at home.” Tulip laughed and Simon reiterated, “Really sorry about whatever you read about Grace.”
“I… Is this somebody that you think that you could care about, Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“Okay. Just… be careful. I don’t see how they’re even still standing, much less how they’re in a position to care for someone else. I don’t know if I’m more afraid that you might get hurt if you get attached or that she might, but… it just looks like it’d be super hard to build with this person. They’ve got… a lot of... history.”
“She’s tried to warn me of that and I ignored her and will most likely ignore you.”
“Well, I did my part, anyway.”
.
Her name was not Grace St. Catherine… Well, it was, because she had it legally changed four years ago. But it had been Grace Monroe when she was born… up until when she was 10.
She was kidnapped when she was 10. Apparently there was a ransom requested, and whenever it was set to happen, the kidnappers took the money and did not return the child. Nobody who knew her before saw her again for 8 years.
When she was 18, she was arrested for assault and when giving her name to arresting officers, said 148, but eventually Grace Monroe. From there, she was discovered to have been missing for 8 years and her parents were contacted.
The Monroes conducted every possible test available to check the well being of their now 18 year old daughter. She was treated for several illnesses, including STDs and a number of mental issues...
She was committed at age 18, and declared a ward of her parents, instead of convicted, and spent the next three years recovering. At age 21, she was allowed to be classified as an adult. She changed her name, and lived with her parents until 2 years ago...
When she began working at the bookstore...
Tulip had even been able to find court documents, police records, and psychiatric files. So… yeah. He owed her big time, even beyond payment for having read even a portion of this stuff. Some of it was simply things Grace had reported to her doctors. Some were things that she had not spoken of, but there was physical evidence enough to grant some ideas.
Years of damage to her uterus… Bruises and scars on her back, knees, thighs, wrists… A symbol carved into the back of her neck… He clicked on the images given from medical reports and saw the same A that had been spray painted on targets’ doors. He now knew who these people were, and why they deserved whatever Grace and her friends were doing to them. He looked at the photos of the girl before her disappearance vs the teenager in the mugshot. That didn’t even look like HIS Grace. She was the same person. He saw familiar features - her perfect round nose and beautiful full lips, the shape of her face a little more shapely there - probably wasn’t eating as well… but… that was a stranger. Only her eyes looked the same. Passionate but filled with pain. Beautiful and wide enough to get lost in, but dark, cold, and freakishly mysterious.
He quickly called her and she picked up, “Did I not just see you a few hours ago?” she teased.
“I was just thinking about you… hoping that you’re okay tonight. Are you okay?”
She laughed, “Are you?”
“I just… want you to know… whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you.”
She was quiet for a long time. He wondered what she was doing on the other end of the line. She was looking at a selection of masks and knee pads, but her mind was no longer on the outfit for her Date Night, but the man on the other side of this phone conversation.
“Thanks, Simon… Um… Are… you sick? Is something happening to you? This just really feels out of nowhere and quite frankly, I’m a little worried.”
“There’s nothing to worry about! I’m fine. I just… really care about you, and had to tell you that.”
Grace could’ve sworn that she saw a chorus of red flags being twirled around before her. Dancers, circling her and performing tricks with them. She was never one for rose colored glasses. She learned a long time ago that those weren’t for her… so these were red flags. She also knew that she often saw red flags where there were white ones. Because she didn’t believe in surrender, only blood for blood. She was angry in general, and usually seeing red. Simon’s red flags were probably no more red than any other poor guy that tried to simply make her smile over the past few years. But then he said, “Grace, I lo…”
“Simon, I really can’t do this right now. I’ve got something I’m in the middle of. So, like… Just… I’ll talk to you another time.” She hung up and snatched a mask that looked like it was crying blood and a pair of purple knee pads. “Not L words, Simon. For fuck’s sake…”
.
Simon had learned so much, then she was just gone. She wasn’t at the bookstore in days and whenever he finally asked her coworker, they said that she had a no call, no show and they hadn’t heard from her since. She didn’t respond to any of his texts. She seemingly deactivated social media (or worse, blocked him), and she wasn’t even staying at home, because he drove by several times for two days, then literally camped outside for another two. If she was inside, she hadn’t answered, and he hoped that she wasn’t just ignoring him pining through the door. He hoped that she just wasn’t there to hear him beg her to please at least tell him what he did wrong.
He went into the flower shop and the guy that he had become super familiar with as “152” online, even though his nametag said “Heath,” asked him what he could help him with. Simon ordered a bouquet and wrote out a card for Grace, apologizing for whatever he did wrong and asking her to come back, He sighed and asked Heath, “Could you make sure that Grace gets this, please?”
“Grace?” the guy repeated, eyeing Simon suspiciously. “I don’t know any Grace, Mister.”
“148, maybe?”
Now, the guy looked downright ready to fight. “I don’t know what you mean, but you’re making me uncomfortable, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave, now.” He even tried to refund him for the flowers.
“No, no… Please, just… tell her that I’ll be waiting, if she ever feels better…” He left and Heath followed him out of the door, watched him get into his car and drive off before he went back in to call Grace, panicked about that visit.
“Who the hell is this person and how does he know where I work?” Heath asked.
“Let me guess, a little taller than me, skinny, blond with gray eyes and something on his head trying desperately to be a ponytail? That was Simon. I must’ve mentioned the flower shop, or something.” She knew that she never had, but to tell her friend that this person had potentially stalked her and learned about him in the process just seemed like it would cause more harm than taking the blame.
“You must’ve mentioned it? Grace. Either you mentioned it, or you didn’t, and YOU would know. It isn’t like you to be careless about our personal information!”
“I know, I know, but maybe I said that it was my favorite flower shop or something. Heath. You know that if you want, I can get you a job at basically anywhere else that I own.”
“I like flowers!”
“Then, I’ll buy another flower shop you can work at, if he made you feel threatened.”
“Are you safe? He seems a little attached. He bought a really expensive bouquet and left a card. It’s sealed but I can read it to you.”
“No, I’ll stop by. I’ve got some job hunting to do, but…”
“Why don’t you just work somewhere that you’re familiar with, or somewhere that you own?”
“I don’t know. Because, I’m suddenly hyper aware of how messed up I am again, and I wanna feel like a normal person.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but normal people don’t get to just start over when life seems to be too much. We’ve gotta just continue to live it out, and change only ourselves, and maybe eventually our circumstances. Normal people would have called out of work (if they could even afford to) and came back, whether or not they were better and pushed through being miserable.”
“Are you suggesting that I return to the bookstore and ask for my job back?”
“Yeah. If it’s normal that you’re shooting for. But… I’ve got the feeling that you’re avoiding this creep.”
“I think things are moving way too fast. That’s terrifying.”
“Good news… that’s terrifying for normal people, too. Not everything that we do and feel is because of what the Apex did to us. If your manager likes you and values you, you can probably coax them into forgiving you for vanishing, with a good sob story.”
“Gonna go with dead homie,” she said. “Meds, etc. The whole works. If that doesn’t work, guess I’ll buy the bookstore. I really don’t feel like looking for another job, anyway… And I guess I can’t avoid him forever.”
.
She was back at work the next week. She noticed Simon sitting in the coffee shop whenever she came in. She skipped going for her old routine, to clock back in and get to work. She had to take down the Read Across America stuff and make sure to have all the Easter and Earth Day stuff situated… When was Easter this year? She checked her calendar as she grabbed her legal pad to start planning displays whenever she almost ran into Simon. He’d come over when he saw her return to the floor. She was startled. Then annoyed. “Simon. Please…”
“What did I do?”
“You’re… getting a little bit too… familiar. You didn’t do anything, I just don’t know how to handle having somebody else in my space this much. I just… need some space.”
He frowned and nodded his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay. You’re the boss.” She wanted to say something… explain why she was like this… why she could only trust her friends, who were more like her immediate family than her parents… even that she desperately wanted Simon to be in her space and to wait for her to be comfortable with having him there…
But, she couldn’t find any of those words. Even if she had, what if she were wrong? What if Simon catching feelings would be the worst thing to ever happen to her, or to HIM, for that matter. She watched him go, and hoped that after she had some time to chill out a little bit, she might be able to contact him again, and get another chance. So, she watched him leave the bookstore and get into his car. He peeled off, and she didn’t know if that meant he was angry or if there was a fluke with the car. She just hoped that he didn’t just show up at her friend’s job or anything else like that. Or something worse. The last thing he wanted while sad was to get on her friends’ bad side. The last thing she wanted was for him to learn that the hard way.
Simon overthrew every piece of furniture in his home. Samantha rushed into her room and hid, terrified of the noise. He cried, shook, paced…. How could he show her that he was on her side? Why did she want space?? Was she afraid of him??? DID SHE HATE HIM???? He flopped onto the floor, holding his head and shivering with tears, trying to catch his breath.
He needed some place else to handle dealing with her, he realized as he glanced around his demolished home. A storage unit, maybe… He collected all of his stuff pertaining to her and put it all together. He stuffed it into one of his bags and put it into his trunk. He could clean up his house whenever he stored things away safely. He needed a big storage unit. He had a feeling that he was going to be collecting more while giving her some “space.”
This was how he might cope. He turned on the light in the new storage space and set down a few boxes. He hadn’t been back into the bookstore. There was no need. He wasn’t writing right now, anyway. He had more important things to do. He’d printed out everything Tulip had researched for him and made plans to visit places he highlighted from all of the files. He got some photos professionally printed up - some poster size, some not as big, and some he simply just had various photo sizes. He just thought they would make nice decor for his new space. Grace had deactivated, but he still had just about every photo of her saved to his phone or computer, and they had taken a few as well…
He also… was starting to take them of her whenever he watched her… He just really missed her. It was only a couple of months in her presence, but that was longer than he had been interested in another person in a while, and he had never been this interested in anyone before. Any time he ever thought that he might be going too far, he reminded himself that she had both done and been through much worse than anything that he was up to at the moment, and that became his truth up until the very last time that he ever had to tell himself anything.
That was May. By May… he didn’t think. It was simply part of his lifestyle. Following, watching, studying, photographing, sometimes recording. But, she still hadn’t reached out to him, and he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to reach out to her. He tried to test it, by leaving her a bouquet of those red poppies that he’d seen her and her friends put on their friend’s grave. He watched, recording her reaction whenever she got home and saw them on her doorstop. She looked around, startled, kneeled to check the card. “Missing you. - S” She looked… relieved. He wasn’t sure who she thought they were from, but she grabbed them, went inside, and moments later, came out with an overnight bag and her turtle. She didn’t come home for days.
Next, he texted and said, “Hey. Sent you flowers. My mom asked about you. Hope you’re okay.” He watched her check the text before she went into the train station, but she didn’t reply. So… she still wasn’t ready, but he was letting her know that he was still waiting. By that time, nothing felt unreasonable to him. He was simply waiting for her to realize that she’d had enough space. He was curious about where she went to when she’d leave for days. The next time he scared her into not staying home alone, he’d follow. It was all that he could do at the moment.
07. Things Went Wrong
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No One Else Chapter 5: The Hunt
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Read it on AO3
“Where the fuck is Kate, you freakin’ lunatic?” Sonny screams into Mary’s face.
Olivia Benson rolls her eyes and stands, pulling Sonny by the arm from the interrogation room. “Yeah, so much for that,” she says as she pulls the door closed behind them.
Sonny paces in front of the one-way glass, gesturing at his former assistant, sitting quietly crying at the table in the room. “Look, I’m sorry, Liv, but she has Kate! We don’t know where she is, we don’t know what she’s done to her… she could by dying right now. I know she knows where Kate is, and so do you.”
“Yes, Carisi, I believe you, and we will get her to talk. But having you here isn’t helping. You’ve tried sweet-talking her, that didn’t work. And you just saw how well losing your mind went.”
The pacing is getting to Olivia. She wishes Sonny had been able to get Mary Duderon to talk, but he hadn’t, which means that at least she doesn’t have to watch him pace the interrogation room any more.
“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I’d be as upset as you are right now. But I can’t let you back in there. You asked us to take this case, now you need to let us handle it. You want to help Kate, that’s what you need to do.”
Sonny looks at her for a few beats, knowing she’s right, but wanting to beat the information out of Mary. Kate has been missing since last night, almost eighteen hours now, and Sonny is frantic. All his fear and anger is focused on the mousy, chubby woman sitting looking around the box, dabbing her eyes occasionally and looking for all the world like the least likely kidnapper ever. But Sonny knows different. She hasn’t shown her crazy to the SVU detectives yet, but she will.
At that moment, Scott Lam comes around the corner with a folded paper in his hand.
“Thank God,” Sonny says, snatching the search warrant from him. “I’m takin’ Fin and Amanda.”
“You can take Fin. But I need Rollins for this interrogation,” Olivia says, waving him toward the squad room.
*********
Sonny isn’t surprised to see that Mary’s apartment is sparkling clean and perfectly organized. He is surprised to see a large, framed copy of his ID photo from the DA’s office. The presence of the picture itself is creepy enough, but its prominent placement in her living room is also troubling.
“Just be glad it ain’t next to her bed,” Fin says, laying a comforting hand on Sonny’s shoulder.
He doesn’t really expect Kate to be held in Mary’s apartment; somehow that seems too easy. But he still tears through the small flat calling Kate’s name until it’s clear she isn’t there. Kate’s partner, Tom Hensler, meets them at the apartment and, after a quick introduction to Fin, goes in search of the Building Manager or Superintendent, or whoever might be able to give him access to any other places in the building that Mary might possibly be holding Kate. After that, he’ll begin to knock on the neighbors’ doors, hoping to learn something helpful.
Sonny and Fin turn up several disturbing things during their search of Mary’s apartment. One is the picture of Sonny and Kate at Forlini’s, or what’s left of it. Mary has burned Kate out of the picture.
Sonny and Fin share a look of horror at that, after which Fin says quietly, “Let’s just keep on lookin’. We don’t know anything yet.”
In Mary’s bedroom, they find a sort of macabre shrine where she has photos from the press conference following the trial, as well as pictures from the party afterward at Maxwell’s that she appears to have downloaded from social media sites. They are candid photos taken by various people, which Sonny recognizes because he’s in all of them. He can remember posing for most of them, although there are a few where he’d simply been caught in a shot. Many have been blown up to a large size, and most other people cut out so that only Sonny remains, then framed. Sonny feels icy chills creep up his spine looking at them.
There is one picture, larger than the rest, among the framed photos. Sonny remembers posing for this one, as well. It’s of him and Mary at the Maxwell’s after-trial party. The picture is a simple posed shot of some of the people they work with, in which Sonny is standing behind Mary. She’s cut everyone else from the picture and blown it up so that it looks as though it’s a photo of just the two of them.
As it turns out, there is a picture of Sonny next to the bed. Several, in fact. These are the most disturbing of all. They’re pictures Sonny recognizes, which Kate must have posted on social media, because they’re all pictures of Sonny and Kate. But Kate has been removed from the photos. Mary has very skillfully used Photoshop or some other program to substitute herself in each of the pictures. It’s all Sonny can do not to smash them to pieces.
Besides the pictures, they find a shirt Sonny discarded at work after a cartridge of printer ink exploded on it, and a number of napkins he apparently used at one time or another. He can feel his stomach churn at the evidence of Mary’s obsession with him.
What they don’t find is anything obvious that will lead them to wherever Kate is.
After a careful search, they find that Kate is nowhere in the building where Mary lives. They haven’t found any receipts or other evidence that Mary rents a storage unit or some other place she could be holding Kate. And none of the neighbors have seen or heard anything to indicate Mary’s had any visitors – ever. Certainly not one who was there against her will.
Sonny is beside himself. Not only have they proven that Mary is dangerously obsessed with him, but they’ve found nothing to indicate that she is holding Kate somewhere. Which leaves one horrible possibility.
***************
Amanda Rollins needs to proceed very, very carefully. She wonders why Mary Duderon hasn’t lawyered up – she works for ADAs, she has to know better – but she has a suspicion that, in Mary’s twisted mind, being here will result in more attention from Sonny.
“This is where Sonny worked before the DA’s office, did you know that?”
Mary sniffles. “Yeah, I knew that.”
“I was his partner for more than five years. I know him pretty well.”
Mary just looks at her, saying nothing but betraying just the slightest bit of… something. Amanda hopes she knows what it is.
“He ate dinner at my house more than at his own. Practically helped me raise my daughters.”
“When is Sonny coming back?” Mary asks.
Amanda continues as though she hasn’t spoken. “Of course, it all changed when he went to the DA’s office. He still came over sometimes, but I hardly get to work with him anymore. And then when Kate came along, no more dinners. Do you know Kate?”
“I’ve met her.”
“He’s crazy about Kate.”
Nothing.
“Sonny, he always had a thing for her. They were together in Brooklyn, you know, before he came to Manhattan.”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, and he always used to talk about her. He would tell me how much he missed her, how great things were between them, that kind of thing. It was so cute, how it was just always Kate, Kate, Kate.”
“That’s ridiculous. She wasn’t even his girlfriend then. She let him go.”
Amanda definitely has Mary’s attention now, if the malevolence in her comments is any indication.
“Maybe. But the minute they saw each other again, they were back together. I think they’re soulmates.”
Mary doesn’t like that assertion at all. But she says nothing more.
*************
Tom Hensler is having no luck checking Mary Duderon’s social media accounts, because she has none. That seems right, if she’s as insular as she appears, but they also haven’t seen anything around her apartment that indicates any hobbies, other than her cats. And how much time can you spend hanging out with cats? She doesn’t appear to be a reader, she doesn’t have a collection of movies, there are no crafts in her apartment, and as far as he can tell, she has no friends. Can she really spend all her time watching TV? Or surfing the internet but making no connections?
He hopes TARU will hurry up with the forensics on her computer. He had personally brought it to them, making sure to let them know that the vic was a missing cop. A couple of techs there know her, and said they’d do their best. Although they’ve only been partners for a few months, he and Kinsella are starting to form a solid partnership. He likes Carisi, too, and he can see the guy’s a wreck. He imagines what he’d be like if it was his wife, Kelly, who was missing, and actually has to admire Carisi for remaining as controlled as he is.
************
Sonny returns to SVU, simply because it feels right to be investigating Kate’s disappearance from there. So far, with the apartment yielding nothing but shudders of disgust, the only possible leads are Mary’s computer, and Mary herself. But even if she has no friends, she has to have family, right? That’s something to check out. He gets on the phone with the DA’s office, demanding Mary’s personnel file, and hoping they wouldn’t make him bother to get a warrant. He’ll get it if he has to, but it would take time. And all he really wants to know is Mary’s emergency contact.
While he badgers the HR Director on the phone, he works the computer. It feels oddly comfortable to be back in detective mode, sitting at his old desk. He may be a new lawyer, but this, he knows how to do.
“Hey, Carisi,” Fin calls over from his desk when Sonny hangs up the phone. “This is interesting. Your friend’s got a record.”
“Seriously?” Sonny gets up and goes over to Fin’s desk.
“Yeah. You ready for this? Three different guys have taken out restraining orders against her, and she’s got a conviction for Second Degree Stalking.”
“Second degree? That’s not easy to get. That’s stalking behavior plus the victim has a reasonable fear of harm and either a weapon is involved it’s a repeat conviction within 5 years. What’d she do?”
The crimes of which Mary has been convicted look very much like her behavior toward Sonny and Kate. This is something they can work with. It’s also encouraging, in that she has frightened people, and destroyed some property, but she’s never actually hurt anyone. She’s pled to stalking, so some of the property crime charges were dropped, but she’s been violent before, at least towards her victims’ homes and cars.
“We need to talk to these vics. See if they know anything that can help.”
“What I wanna know is, how’d she get a job in the DA’s office with a Class E felony on her record?”
“Let’s worry about that when we have Kate back, huh? You try to find the family, I’ll see if I can track down these vics.”
Sonny tries to focus on his work. He ignores the part of his mind that wants to scream with terror and frustration, focusing all his attention on the immediate task at hand. He’ll have plenty of time to freak out later, and it will do no good to imagine nightmare scenarios of where she might be. Right now, he has to find the woman he loves. He closes his eyes briefly in prayer, thinking that he’s been praying so much God might return Kate just to shut him up about her, and picks up the phone.
Within an hour, Sonny and Fin have a list of people to go see.
************
Amanda sits looking at Mary, who fumbles almost continuously with the edges of her oversized pink sweatshirt, the seams of her jeans, or her hair. Amanda hopes it’s more than just nervousness about being questioned.
“So, Mary, why don’t you tell me about you and ADA Carisi?”
Mary looks at Amanda, eyes wary. “I was his assistant.”
“Yeah, I know. What was that like?”
“I don’t know. It was OK.”
“What’s he like to work with? As an assistant, I mean. Was he nice to you?”
“He was OK.”
“Really, Mary? Just OK? Not good? Not bad?”
“Good, I guess.”
“Me, I liked working with him. We talked to people right here in this room, in fact. Right here at this table. All the time.”
Mary seems not to react, but after a few moments of silence, Amanda notices her put her hand flat on the table and move her fingertips ever so slightly, as if stroking the table Sonny touched.
“When is he coming back? I really want to see Sonny.”
“I don’t know, Mary. He’s out trying to find Kate. He’ll probably keep going until he finds her.”
Mary looks straight at Amanda for the first time all day. Amanda smiles a little wistfully at her. “I wish somebody loved me like that, y’know?”
“He doesn’t love her.”
“Of course he does. You must’ve seen it. Heard it in his voice.”
Mary shrugs, but there’s a definite change in her posture. She stiffens a bit and lifts her chin.
“But now she left. Now he’s with me.” Mary quickly adds, “At the DA’s office, I mean. We work together.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“I do everything for him. He depends on me.” An element of defensiveness, possessiveness colors Mary’s speech.
“I’m sure he does, hon. But it’s not the same.”
“She left. Now he’s mine.”
Amanda injects a sympathetic note into her voice. “I don’t think so, Mary. He’s Kate’s.”
“Kate.”
Amanda allows herself to react to the acid tone with which Mary hisses the name, but only a bit. “You don’t like Kate?”
“Don’t know her.”
“C’mon. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you don’t like her. I don’t.”
“You don’t?” Mary sounds genuinely surprised.
“I don’t think she’s right for him.”
“She’s not.”
“Right. But I guess it doesn’t make any difference, since he’s in love with her.”
“No, he isn’t,” Mary snaps.
“I suppose he talks about Kate all the time, though, doesn’t he?”
“Not that much. He doesn’t care about her. Not really.”
“No?”
“No. He’ll get over her now that she’s gone.”
This is the delicate moment Amanda’s been working toward. “You think so?”
The superior look Mary gives her isn’t what bothers her. It’s the malice. “Of course he will. He has me now.”
“Are you…” Amanda hopes she gets the inflection right. It’s crucial.
“Sonny and I love each other.”
“You do?” Amanda acts surprised, but also as though she believes her.
“Well, we can’t talk about it yet. First we had to stop working together. That’s why he got reassigned, you know.”
“Oh. So now that he’s reassigned, you can go public?”
“He’ll have to pretend to be sad about Kate for a while, of course…”
“Sad?”
“Yeah. You know. Because she’s gone.”
“You said that before. What makes you think she’s gone?”
“I know she is. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because she left him?”
“Sonny doesn’t think she left him. He’s afraid something happened to her, Mary.”
“Nothing happened to her. She just left him. I know he’ll be sad for a while, or he’ll pretend to be. But I’m here to comfort him.”
“He seems kind of mad at you.”
“I know, but he isn’t. He’s just upset because Kate left him. We’ll be fine.”
“How do you know Kate left him? Maybe she’s just, I don’t know, visiting a friend or something.”
“She isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I just… know.”
“But, Mary, how do you know?”
“I just know.”
Amanda Rollins isn’t giving up.
**************
“That bitch is cray-cray.”
The man standing in the doorway of his house is clearly disgusted by the whole topic of Mary Duderon, and annoyed that he has to talk about this yet again.
“We’ve read the police reports, and your statement to the court in support of your request for a restraining order. So we know what she did. What we’re wondering is whether there’s anything else you can tell us,” Sonny says.
“Like what?”
“A woman is missing. We think Mary Duderon had something to do with her disappearance,” Fin explains. “Can you think of anywhere Mary might go, anyplace she might have access to?”
“Look, I haven’t seen her in years, and I don’t want to. I barely knew her! She just… latched onto me and when I told her to get lost, she got mad and trashed my car. That was it. She got fired, and I moved so she couldn’t find me. End of story.”
“OK, well anything you can think of could help,” Sonny says, handing the man his card. “Give it some thought. Call us if you think of anything. Please. A woman is in danger.”
The next person Sonny and Fin go to see is a man who employed Mary for about six months. During that time, he had a drunken one-night stand with her, which he barely remembers, except that he thinks it was she who came on to him. After that, however, she made his life a living hell. She told him she was pregnant. When he demanded proof, and proof of paternity, she went off the rails. Although the man’s wife had thrown him out of their house, Mary went there and harassed his wife and sons, shrieking tearful demands. She called and texted his cell phone at all hours of the day and night, and eventually took a baseball bat to the windows of his business. When he fired her and reported her activities to the police, she’d tried to set his car on fire, but didn’t know what she was doing and had done no real damage.
The man doesn’t want to talk to them. He’s back with his wife, and really just wants to forget the whole thing. He claims not to know anything about her, and is no help.
“Listen,” he says. “Whoever this woman is, I feel sorry for her. ‘Cause Mary Duderon is a psycho, and the more she hears ‘no’, the crazier she gets. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
That information does nothing for Sonny’s nerves.
***********
Tom Hensler gets a call from TARU. They’ve found some searches on Mary’s computer and want him to take a look. He calls Sonny.
“Hey, Carisi, I got a call from TARU. They’re in Mary’s computer. They called me, but you know her, I don’t. You wanna meet me down there? Take a look?”
Sonny looks at Fin, who is driving them toward the boarding house where Mary’s mother lives. “Where are you now?”
“Station house.”
“Look, we’re way uptown, so you go ahead. Take a look and then call me. We’ll see if there’s anything there.”
“Will do. You holdin’ up?”
“I’m tired and I’m pissed. Not payin’ any attention to anything else right now. You?”
“That bitch disappeared my partner. I’m thinkin’ if there’s nothin’ but cat videos on her computer, I’m goin’ down to SVU and we’re gonna have a talk. Off the record.”
“Yeah, I heard that, but you don’t know Captain Benson. She’s not likely to cooperate.”
“Then this damn computer better give me somethin’.”
“Amen to that.”
**************
“So, Mary,” Amanda begins, handing her a cup of coffee. “Where do you think Kate went?”
“How should I know?”
“Well, I mean, if you had to guess. Where would someone like Kate go, if they left Sonny?”
“I really don’t know. I don’t care, either.”
So much for that tactic.
“You know what I think?” Amanda asks. “I think she’s coming back.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you’d have to be crazy to leave a man like Sonny. Right?”
“I would never leave him.”
“Exactly. That’s why I think she’s coming back. When Sonny gets back here, I’m going to tell him that. So he doesn’t give up hope.”
“No. She’s not coming back. He should just forget about her. He’s mine now.”
“You don’t know that, Mary. And Sonny, he’s so handsome, and so nice, it’s like you said. You’d never leave him. So Kate didn’t, either. I’m going to tell him that.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s not coming back. She��s such a…”
“A what?”
“Nothing.”
“C’mon, Mary. I told you how I feel. Tell me.”
“Her apartment burned. And she made Sonny let her live with him after that. She’s a whore.”
Amanda tries to look fascinated but says nothing, hoping that Mary will take the invitation. But she doesn’t go on. Amanda tries again.
“Kate’s apartment burned?”
“Not bad. Nobody got hurt or anything. But she stayed at Sonny’s after that. She wasn’t supposed to do that. But he was just too nice to say no.”
“Maybe he wanted her there.”
“No, he didn’t! Anyway, she’s gone now, she… left him. And she’s not coming back.”
“I think she is.”
“She’s not.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because she’s not. She’s gone. And Sonny is mine now.”
“I don’t think so. I think she’s coming back, and when I tell him that, he’ll wait for her.”
“You don’t know anything.”
Finally, Mary is beginning to forget to hide her anger.
“Neither do you.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What do you know? Why shouldn’t Sonny wait for Kate to come back?”
“Because she can’t.”
The most delicate moment of all.
“Why can’t she, Mary?”
But Mary has realized what she said. “Because… Because he’s mine now. That’s all I meant.”
*************
Mary’s mother lives in an old-fashioned boarding house, where she rents a room and meals are served communally by the landlady. It’s a surprisingly nice place. It’s clean and comfortable and, although Mary’s mother is in her eighties, she looks healthy, if a little frail. But she’s not happy to see that the police have come to ask her about Mary again. She’s especially not happy that one of them is Mr. Carisi, the man Mary has been so focused on recently.
Eleanor Duderon knows that her daughter gets a little… overly attached sometimes. Mary’s always been reserved in public, but there’s a lot more going on under the surface than people think. And she has been known to overreact when the real world doesn’t cooperate with the complex, detailed worlds she builds in her head.
“Mrs. Duderon,” Sonny begins, “We need to ask you some questions about your daughter, Mary.”
“All right. Is she in any trouble?” Her voice is scratchy, but strong.
“A woman is missing, and we think Mary may have something to do with her disappearance.”
“Oh, I don’t… Mary’s not the kind of girl who would ever hurt anyone. She’s gotten a little carried away in the past, I know, but she just has deep feelings.”
“Ma’am,” Fin tries, “This woman is a police officer. If your daughter’s done something to her, she’s in a lot of trouble. You understand that?”
“But she doesn’t usually hurt anyone.”
Sonny and Fin both clearly hear the “usually”.
“But she has hurt someone in the past?” Sonny asks, leaning far forward, his forearms on his thighs, peering intently into Eleanor Duderon’s troubled face.
“I can’t really talk about that.”
“Mrs. Duderon, I work with Mary. She was my assistant, did you know that?”
“Yes, I know. She’s mentioned you. I’m afraid she’s developed a bit of a crush on you, Mr. Carisi.”
“Ma’am, it’s more than a crush. I think you know that ‘deep feelings’ is an understatement for what Mary can be like. Don’t you?”
“Well, I suppose you know she has been in trouble before, when things didn’t work out for her and a man she likes.”
Sonny turns the charm up as far as he can, given his exhaustion and frayed nerves. “So, here’s the thing, Ma’am. The woman who’s missing? She’s my girlfriend. And your daughter, she set her bed on fire, along with all the pictures she had of the two of us together.”
“Oh, no…”
“Things at work have become strained, and Mary’s not happy about it. She blames Kate. She has this idea that the only thing standing between her and me is Kate.”
“Oh, so that’s who Kate is.”
“She’s talked about her?” Sonny and Fin exchange looks.
Mrs. Duderon’s face takes on a hint of confusion, tinged with what Sonny thinks might be fear. “She doesn’t like her, this Kate. But she told me that Kate was gone. That she’d left you, and now the two of you would be, I don’t know, dating or something.”
“When did she tell you this?” Fin asks, on alert.
“Three days ago.”
Kate has only been missing for one day.
Fin is standing now. “Did she say where Kate went?”
“No, only that she was gone, and she wouldn’t be back.”
#law & order svu#law & order: special victims unit#sonny carisi#ADA Carisi#ADA Dominick Carisi Jr#peter scanavino
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Don’t Breathe | 2.5
»Genre: Hitman!au || Stalker!au ||
»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.
»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was told to get rid of everyone who witnessed the conversation between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month ago, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?
✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt. 2.5 - pt.3.0 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5
A/n: ♥
Day 1
3:27 AM
It’s cold.
Even in the absence of your consciousness, you could feel you were in unfamiliar terrain. Your eyes fluttered open upon the chill that washed over you. You hesitantly sit up and promptly take in your surroundings. You move around a bit and quickly realize you aren’t on your soft bed anymore, there’s a blue mat under you and a blanket covering you loosely. Darkness somewhat skewed your sight, but you could comprehend that you were in a large, dark room with little light.
Where am I?
“Ah...” You hold your forehead when you feel a stabbing pain in the center of your forehead, something similar to a migraine.
Judging by the staircase across the room for from where you sat, it looked like a basement. You tried to stand, but you were brought back down by a harsh metal on your wrist – you were handcuffed to a pipe. You've been kidnapped. That’s the only explanation for your current predicament. Questions swarm in your mind, how did this happen? Who did this? And more importantly, why?
Though you try to remain calm, panic begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You suddenly feel light-headed, chest tightening and heart pounding against your rib-cage. Tears threaten to leave your eyes but you wipe it away with your free hand. Keep yourself together Y/n, you don’t know for sure what’s happening so you shouldn’t jump to conclusions, right?
Footsteps.
You hear footsteps approaching the door at the top of the staircase and you subconsciously pull at your wrist. The door creaked and light trickled into onto you. There was a moment of silence before the individual began to make their way down the stairs. With every step, you felt your heart skip several beats and your breathing starts to increase at an alarming rate.
Just when you thought you could take seeing who your potential captor was, you were met with a chilling sight. A tall, dark figure made its way towards you with an ivory mask shielding his identity.
“W- Who are y- you?” You stutter, trying to stick to the wall behind you to keep as much distance of possible. Fear laced your words, “W-why am I here?...”
Whoever was behind that mask just stood there. Though his face was shielded, you could see his eyes, and they were piercing, glued on you. You swallow a lump in your throat, pulling against the cuffs and hoping it might get him to respond – it didn’t even faze him.
Instead, he got closer to you and that’s when you caught a glimpse of something in his hands. You prayed it wasn’t an object meant to harm you because you were in no position to fight him off, not with the cuffs keeping you at ground level. Why won’t he speak? Notwithstanding the fearful look on your face, he chose to sit in front of you. The proximity combined with complete silence made you very uneasy. He places something in front of you, a bottle?
“W- what is that?”
As if you hadn’t just asked him a question, the man stood to his feet and walked away.
“Hey! Why am I here!? Who are you!”
There was a pitiful strain on the edges of your voice, making you sound similar to a distressed doe. He ignored your cry’s as he made his way up the stairs and soon the door was slammed closed and you were left in the dark. Alone.
*
*
He sits at his computer, typing up an email to send to Choi. He did the job. The article won’t be published and you’re taken care of- Well, sort of. There’s no way anyone will be able to find you, he made sure there were no loose strings regarding his connection to you. Even if you were declared missing, it’s not likely anyone will know where to look for you. He knew your family lived in the countryside, so the chance of them tearing the city apart brick by brick to find you is slim. The police will have a hard time finding you too, they still haven’t been able to find the other targets he disposed of.
It’s extremely risky to keep a hostage, that’s what his colleagues say. Taehyung specializes in quick and clean jobs, rarely does he dabble in hostage holding, it’s just not his style. Originally, his plan wasn’t to hold you hostage but it just happened. The thought of killing you had left his mind the day he bumped into you that day—he thought, how could he take the life of someone who’d give to a stranger without hesitation? Kindness is hard to find when you do find it, why let it go? That was merely a wandering thought though, a figment of his daydreams per se.
This was his only option, he had to take you in order to keep you alive and now he has to figure out where to go from there. If he keeps you in the basement, the solitude might eventually get to you and he doesn’t know how you’ll react. You might try to escape, get violent, whatever it takes to regain your freedom. He’s seen cases where hostages turn to or against their captor, either seeking safety or revenge. It could get messy, if you push back even if that means hurting yourself for the sake of escape, he’ll be forced to take drastic measures.
Whatever it takes to keep you hidden.
Suzy arrived at the office, ready to send out your article but you were nowhere to be found. When she tried to call your cell, you didn’t pick up. She tried emailing you, even asking your colleagues if they’ve seen you. That article was scheduled to be published this morning, you were the one who wanted it that way.
Thinking you might’ve left your computer at your desk, she went and searched for it. It was nowhere to be found and neither was the physical copy. As a last result, she went to the writer's archive of the unfinished article she has access to as a supervisor.
Something was there, but it was deleted. Why would you delete it? You worked so hard on it, there’s no way you’d just throw it away.
That’s it, I’m going to her house.
“Take over while I step out, Aarav, I need to go check on something.”
And with that, she was in her car and following the GPS to the address on your employee mailing account. When she arrived at the quaint little apartment on Blue Blossom Rd she parked. But she noticed something, your car is parked outside—so you must be home. She made her way up the flight of stairs, feeling a bit relieved when she caught the sight of your apartment door. Maybe you just overslept, it happens to us all, she thought.
She knocked.
“Y/n? It’s Suzy,”
She didn’t hear a response; she knocked again.
“Y/n? It’s 7:30, your publication deadline is at 8. I saw your article was missing from your archive,” She cleared her throat, looking down at the doorknob in contemplation. “I was worried because-” She paused, an unsure expression on her face. “The door is unlocked...” She swallowed.
There’s only one way to find out if you’re in there so she proceeded to open the door, and she was met with a normal looking home, but with no one residing in it. “Y/n?” She ventured further into your home.
She peeked in what she presumed to be your bedroom, and your bed was made as if you never slept in it. Did she make it home last night? She was starting to get really worried now. Your keys were hanging up, your usual purse sat on a little recliner in your room, so that was evidence that you did make it home, but where are you now?
“Oh my God...”
She nearly had a heart attack when she saw what she saw. A necklace laid in the pathway to the door, but not just any necklace, you wouldn’t be caught dead without that necklace. It was a gift from your parents when you got your first job in the city, wherever you were, the necklace would be there too. She knelt down and held it in her hand, this is bad, very bad. You were one of the participants at the conference, you possess vital information that was about to go public and it’s not a coincidence that you go missing on the day of publication. This was planned by someone, premeditated, there’s no other reasonable explanation.
You were abducted by the same person responsible for all those missing people. Her only hope is that you’re still alive. She whipped out her cell phone, dialing a number in seconds before putting it to her ear.
911, what’s your emergency?
“I’d like to report a missing person.”
It’s sometime in the morning, probably around seven something since that’s when you naturally wake up.
It wasn’t a nightmare, nor was it a hallucination—you’re still on a cold basement floor, chained to a small pipe on the wall. How you managed to drift to sleep was a mystery to you, you were boiling with anger, fear, and just about any emotion, a person in your situation would feel. You hadn’t cried yet, you knew it would happen eventually, but you were in shock. You heard of things like this happening in movies or around the country in small towns, not once did you think you’d ever end up like this. You’re a kidnapee with not a soul aware of your abduction.
You stretched your legs a bit and your foot hit something when you looked to see what it was. It was a bowl of fruit and a now spilled glass of milk, the man must’ve brought it when you were asleep. He’s feeding you, you weren't sure if you were grateful or just creeped out. If he thought you were actually gonna consume anything he had to offer, he was sadly mistaken.
*
*
He stood in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth with sleepy eyes. Choi signed off on his assignment as complete sometime this morning, he’ll have to wait a few hours or days for the next job.
Last night, he went down to the basement and watched you while you slept. There were moments that he wanted to wake you up and maybe explain to you what was going on — that was just sympathy talking. Despite his bias towards you, you’re still a hostage and he has to keep that distance. His ideology on this is simple; if you stay here, you don’t die and he gets a little company in return.
It was around six when he brought the fruit and milk downstairs, assuming you ate, now would be a good time to get your dishes and see how you’re doing. Opting to keep his identity for a little longer, he grabbed the mask off of the desk and made his way to the basement door. He opened it slowly, taking his time when he finally decided to make his way down the stairs.
He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming—you shrink against the wall when you see the man at the end of the stairs.
For a moment, you two just stare at each other, dead silence and cold tension thick in the air. His eyes drift from you for a moment and land on the puddle of white liquid near you, and the bowl of fruit was untouched.
You couldn’t see it because of the mask, but his brows were furrowed.
“Was it an accident?...” He almost whispers that too low, but you heard him loud and clear.
You flinch when you finally hear him speak – his voice is so low and distinct, it actually catches you by surprise.
He’s suddenly kneeling down now, eyes looking eerily focused on you through the mask. When he repeats the question in a firmer tone, you nod sheepishly. He walks to the far side of the basement the area you tried not to look at, in fear your brain would start imagining things that weren’t there.
He brings a small towel and places it over the spill as if he were cleaning a mess made by a child, he said nothing to condemn you for it. What kind of kidnapper am I dealing with...
“Who-” You stutter and he doesn’t spare you a glance, “Who are you...w- why am I here?...” It was hard to sound confident in your speech when you so obviously have the lower hand, but still, you have to hold your ground. He doesn’t respond.
“Why won’t you answer me? I deserve to at least know why you brought me here.” You raise your voice a bit, pulling at the restraint on your wrist, balling your fist as tried to control your anger.
Only then does he stop tending to your accident, and he turns to you, you’re met with a porcelain mask. You wanted to rip that stupid mask off of his face. He grabs the bowl of fruit and places it in front of you.
“Eat.”
He stands to his feet and begins to walk away.
“Wait!” You cry, jerking forward as he grew farther,
“Please!-”
The door slammed shut and tears started to well up in your eyes. All you wanted to know was why, why? This man, this monster, he took you from your home in your sleep and put you in a basement, like an animal. How will anyone know where to look for you? Your family and friends wouldn’t have a clue. You don’t know how far you are away from home, you could be anywhere in the city – the country.
You looked at the bowl and your stomach growled at the sight of shiny red strawberries and blueberries. Some might find it foolish no to eat ― shoot, you’re starting to look foolish to your own self. An hour or so went by and your stomach was growling loudly—you were desperate. Hesitantly, you reached for the strawberry and bit it. It was sweeter than normal, almost addictingly sweet. You grabbed the bowl and start devouring it. By the time you were done, all that was left were strawberry stems. You laid back down, feeling cold and defeated, your life has dwindled down to its lowest point.
“Your client sent his thanks last night, it’s just a matter of time before the news cover dies down.”
Taehyung nods, eyes skimming over the file Choi had given to him just a few moments ago. It was a small job, nothing too difficult.
“So, how did you dispose of that stray target?”
Taehyung froze for a moment, Choi rarely cared about how the target was taken care of, as long as they were taken care of.
“I watched her for a while, just trying to find the right moment to act. I drugged her water.”
One side of your body is submerged in water, is this a nightmare?
You looked down and the entire basement floor was filling up with water, it was about 2 inches tall. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to see if someone was behind this, but there was no one, you were completely alone. Your pajamas are nearly soaked in the cold water, making you shiver and curl up to yourself.
Fear shoots to your chest all of a sudden and you start to panic—what if he’s trying to drown me? Or leave me chained up in freezing cold water to make me suffer? You’re in flight or flight mode now. In order to free yourself, you start to violently pull at the cuffs, effectively hurting yourself in the process, but you had to keep trying. The pipe was unmoving, even with you attempting to pull it from the wall with your other hand. Your strength was stunted, of course. There was something in the fruit, there had to be, that’s the only explanation for the throbbing headache that you had all of a sudden.
You grit your teeth, crying out when the constant yanking only made it harder to withstand your condition. In your struggle, you curse the day your captor was born. “Help! Somebody, please! Help!” Tears prick at your eyes and your voice threatens to crack. All you can do is scream for help and hope someone will come.
“Help!”
*
*
It’s late, he’s been researching and there’s nothing he wants to do more than get to sleep. When he entered his home, it was peaceful and quiet, just like always. After sitting his bag at the foot of his bed, he made his way to the kitchen to find something to snack on. As he scavenged through the fridge, he had a weird feeling, something is off. He slowly closed the refrigerator door and that’s when it hit him, you’re downstairs. He’s left you down there for more than 12 hours, no food or water. That’s not what he meant to do.
In a panic, he throws on the mask and barges down the door and he hears your cries louder.
“Someone help me- Please! Please, please...”
His heart nearly stops when he sees you. You’re sitting in about 4 inches of water, knees pressed to your chest, and balling your eyes out. You didn’t even look up at him, you were ballistic. He treads through the water and immediately drops to his knees in order to release you from the cuffs.
You looked up to see your captor and that makes you go off even more. “Don’t! Don’t t-touch me!”
You thrashed about as he came nearer to you. He disregarded your pleas and used the key in his pocket to open up the door He was thinking that the water was caused by a busted pipe or something.
He finally got the cuff off of you and hooked his arms under your legs and back, and lifted you up. Your soaking form tight in his arms, he walks you upstairs and takes you to a bathroom. With tears dry on your cheeks, you try to restrain yourself from shaking but it was unavoidable. When you looked up at him, you were struck with fear and you stayed completely silent as he gently sits you on the cold tiled floor.
He’s moving swiftly to get towels for you and you can’t help but notice how well-off this man is. From what you can see, this home is well over half a mill. Your captor is rich, at least you know that much.
He presses your shoulder with a large towel suddenly, seeing that you were shivering because of your clothing. “I know your cold, here you go...”
You jerk away from his touch. “Don’t touch me.”
“I have a change of clothes I took from your home.” He grabbed them off of the counter and sat them on the floor beside you.
“I’ll be right back, wash yourself up, and put your dirty close in that bag.” He exits the room, leaving the door slightly cracked. It would be foolish not to take this opportunity to get cleaned up, so you took it. You slowly stood to your feet and you winced, your lower body was sore from being on the ground for so many hours. You showered quickly and when you finished, you dried off even quicker. While you were slipping on the clean clothes, you had the brilliant idea to try and escape.
You peeked out of the bathroom door to make sure the coast was clear, nows my chance. You bolted out of the bathroom, with no shoes, and ran to look for the front door or any exit at that matter. The only light in the house was provided by the hood light above the stove, it was pretty dark aside from that. Your blood was pumping, the pure adrenaline had to be the only thing keeping you focused on looking for an escape.
Despite the soreness in your ankles and legs, you were determined to get out of here. You tiptoed to what you thought to be a front door, your heart felt like it was going to burst if you didn’t run out there.
Just as you reach for the doorknob, arms fasten around you and you’re being pulled back into hell.
“Let go of me! Let go!” You started screaming and thrashing about violently as he carried you back. “Someone help me! Help pl-” His clamps over your mouth and that only makes you louder. You curse into his hand and try your hardest to break out of his grip.
“Relax.” He hissed in your ear. He continues to carry you off into what looks like a spare room. He practically has to throw you down just so you don’t get up quickly and try to run.
“You need to calm down.” He stares down at you, the godforsaken mask still ever so present. “I won’t hurt you...”
“You fucking kidnapped me- I don’t know who you are or what I did to possess you to drug me take me from my home.” You begin to rise to your feet and he realizes that if you’re standing, that makes it easy for you to try to make a run for it. “You’re a monster!”
“Sit down.” He instructs suddenly, not that you’re going to listen to him anyway, he just thought he’d see if you’d budge. Again, you attempt to run from him, but that’s when he tackles you down and forces your stomach first to the ground.
“L-let me go-” He's trying to turn you over to get the cuffs behind your back but you trying to hit him. Through gritted teeth, he repeats the same words, telling you to ‘calm down.’
You kick and punch but he dodges all of it. “No! Get away from me!”
“Shh...” He keeps his grip tight.
He’s trying to make you tired.
He’s draped over you like a straightjacket, you can’t move easily and he’s prepared to stay like this until you comply. Oddly, after a moment's time, you turn your head to see his masked face, staring down at you with no intent to set you free right now.
“Are you calm now?” You nod, not giving him direct eye-contact. “Alright.” He releases you and sits on his knees. “I’ll need to keep you chained up because you-” Your hand abruptly darts out and you rip that mask off of his face. He slams you against the ground, his instinct to fight back got the best of him for a moment, he realized that when your face begins to scrunch up in discomfort.
“Y- you?...” You’ve seen this man. “You’re the man from the train station...” Tears begin to threaten to leave your eyes the more you stare at him. “W- Why?... Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to deserve this!?”
“You don’t need to know that right now.” He skillfully turns you on your stomach and cuffs your wrists together. “If you continue to resist me, I’ll be forced to make sure you stay weak. You haven’t had carbs for at least 24 hours, you’ve had two sedatives and I’m sure your headache is still there, you’re in no position to fight. So, do us both a favor and relax.” He gently lifts your upper body to sit you propped against the wall.
“Are you hungry?” He stands to his feet, and when you neglect to respond he just sighs. “I’ll bring you some food and explain why you’re here.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
You wait for a moment, just until you don’t hear his footsteps, then you start to try and free your hands. The more you tried to loosen them, you realized that if you can squeeze your hand together tight enough, you can slip out of the confinements. You wince. “Ah-”
When the door suddenly opens, you stall your movements and do everything in your power to not look suspicious. As he enters the room, a bowl and your book bag in hands. Only now do you realize how surreal it is to be under the scrutiny of his gaze. He crouches down to sit not too far away from you, food, and water now in front of you. You watch as he pulls your computer and documents out of the bag.
“What-...” You were gonna finish that sentence but you decided not to.
He opened the laptop and started typing, how did he know your passcode?
He turns your computer around for you to see an empty document page.
“What is this?”
“Your article, I deleted it and destroyed the physical copy.”
“W-...Why would you do that? Why would you-”
“I was hired to make sure you didn’t get this information out to the public. My client didn’t want loose-lipped reporters exploiting him.”
“So you’re responsible for all of those missing people...Did you kill those innocent people?...” You felt a burn in your nose, hinting that angry tears might threaten to flow. “Did you!?”
He cuts his eyes to you, contemplating his answer. “My job is to get rid of the target and the evidence, by any means necessary. I was supposed to kill you, get rid of the evidence, and move on.”
“So why the hell am I here?”
“Well,” He takes a long pause, eyes drifting downward. “I didn’t want to kill you...I could’ve sold you to some out of country trafficker and you’d be off the map for good, but I decided not to.”
“Why?... So you could keep me here, for what? How long do you think you can keep me here without someone finding me? I have friends and family, they’ll be looking for me-”
“But there’s no connection between us, how will they know where to look for you?”
He’s right, where will they know to start? You don’t even know where you are, this could go a dozen ways. “What are you gonna do with me? Keep me chained up like an animal?”
He makes a thoughtful expression. “Well when you put it like that, it sounds awful.” He laughs before taking a more serious tone. “I’ll be honest with you, I became infatuated with you. I watched for so long just so I could get you at the right time, and when we bumped into each other at the train station and you gave me that little coupon...I don’t know, I’ve never interacted with a target before, I’m not supposed to. I thought, instead of killing you like my client requested, I’ll just keep you hidden from the world for as long as possible.” You wanted to vomit at what he was insinuating, you were absolutely disgusted.
“I’m not staying here. I will escape...And when I do, I’ll make sure you rot in prison for what you’re doing to me...” You hiss, venom laced in your threat.
He smirks, standing to his feet to gaze down at you.
“You say that now but when you’re here, for as long as I decide to leave you alone, and human interaction is near nonexistent, I’m sure your thoughts will be different, I think you’ll learn to like me eventually, that would make things easier on both of us.” He must be dreaming if he thinks you would ever like a man who would hold you hostage. He knelt down once more and to his surprise, when he scooped you up, you didn’t fight him. He placed you on the bed and turned you on your stomach and uncuffed you.
“I’m sure sleeping like that would be pretty uncomfortable,” You rubbed your wrists and scooted to the corner of the bed against the wall, “you can sleep here until I get the problem in the basement fixed. But I have a few rules for you,” He sat on the edge of the bed, cuffs still in his hands, “if you try to crawl out of that window tonight or at any time, you won’t eat for 3 days. If you try to pick the lock and escape at any time, no food for 3 days-”
“You’ll starve me if I try to do anything other than what you tell me, yes?” You quip.
“Would you rather me do something else? There are worse things to get you to learn your lesson.” By the timid look in your eye all of a sudden, he gathers that you have nothing else to say and stands up.
“Eat your food, I’ll come to check on you first thing in the morning.” He gets up. Instead of leaving, he leans in and rubs a finger on the underside of your jaw but you shy away. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
He decides to cup your jaw and press his lips to your cheek, something he’s secretly wanted to do for a while now—your skin is really as soft as it seems. He’s pleasantly surprised by the fact that you didn’t fight back, but you were like a deer in the headlights. You curled into yourself, a nervous look in your sleepy eyes. “Get some sleep...”
When he shuts that door, your heart plummets into your stomach at the thought of your life from now on.
What does he plan to do with you?
#taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung stalker!au#taehyung horror#taehyung kidnap!au#bts angst#bts scenarios#bts fluff#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts imagine#taehyung#bts#taehyung dont breathe#dont breathe#hmm this took me forever#im sorry bbys#but here you go#🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛🌛night night#my loves💖💓💕
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Light in the Dark Chapter 1: Call for Help
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: blood, language, hospital scenes
Hands shaking you scroll through your phone looking for the new contact you had created. Finding it you tap on it and then pause. Staring at the number on your screen labeled MTF you exhale shakily.
This was a last resort.
There’s no telling if they’d even actually help you. But you’re running out of time. You tap the number and hold the phone up to your ear. You listen to the dial tone and spare a glance at your right side. Crimson is seeping through your clothes and coating your hand as you try to staunch the blood. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you draw in a shaky breath and silently plead for someone, anyone to pick up.
*******
Kandomere was busy looking over the case file with his team. Trying to piece together what little they knew about this Bright and where to find her based on her last known location.
A week and a half they’ve been on the hunt.
And a week and a half it’s been raining almost non-stop with no signs of slowing. The only solid evidence they have to go on is the security footage and eyewitness testimony from a convenience store. Two gunmen had attempted to rob the orcish store clerk when she had intervened. Using magic she had easily disarmed them, forcing them to flee. The store clerk in his testimony had said that he had demanded that she leave, having become frightened of her and even threatened to call the Magic Task Force on her. To which he inevitably did. She had fled the scene before agents could arrive to apprehend her and little has been seen of her since. They didn’t even have a name to go with this mystery woman.
But Kandomere had a theory that the change in weather was connected to her. And him and Montehugh were now in the process of cross-referencing weather patterns with possible sightings.
“The storm did pick up over in this area, after that one lady called in,” Montehugh offers. “It did, but it also picked up over here at about the same time,” Kandomere countered pointing to the map. “Yeah and there’s no way she could’ve gotten there that fast,” Montehugh sighed, “I mean unless she used magic.”
Kandomere shrugged, “It’s possible.” This was getting nowhere.
Frustrated he took to pacing the room. The human agents ducked their heads attempting to busy themselves with their work, with Montehugh being the only exception, as their boss stalked around the room. He knew it was because they did not wish to incur his wrath.
Running his fingers through his hair he sighed, perhaps he had been wrong about this human’s connection to the storm.
He was seldom wrong. But there simply wasn’t enough information to formulate a solid theory. The trail was growing cold, he could feel it, and he hated it when a trail went cold. Very few people have ever managed to elude him.
Still, he needed something; anything that would help him find her, even just a name would be enough.
A phone rings interrupting his thoughts.
Montehugh sighs and picks up the phone, “Hello?”
Kandomere looks over to where his partner is seated.
“I have information on the Bright you’re looking for,” he hears a woman’s voice say on the other end. Kandomere gestures for Montehugh to hand him the phone. Without saying another word to the woman, he stands and crosses the room, Kandomere meets him halfway and Montehugh passes the phone to the elf.
“Hello?” he says.
A pause. Then a soft, “Hey.”
“You said you have information on a Bright?” Kandomere continues.
“Yeah I do, you’re talking to her,” she says coyly.
His eyes widen and he quickly snaps at the other agents in the room signaling for them to start tracing the call. They hurriedly move to follow his order. Kandomere resumes his pacing; he has to keep her talking.
“Is that so? What’s your name?” he asks.
“What’s yours?” she counters.
Now staring out the rain battered window, he doesn’t miss her flirtatious tone.
“Kandomere. My name is Kandomere,” he offers unable to resist being a little flirtatious himself.
“Kandomere,” she tastes it. “That’s a nice name,” she whispers.
The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile, and he pivots to walk back and forth in front of the window.
“Now what’s your name?” he asks. She tells him. The elf points across the room and Montehugh listening in on the conversation is already jotting it down.
“Now, you wouldn’t mind telling me where you are?” he questions.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she responds.
He sighs, so now she’s going to be difficult. “I would love to know where you are?” he asks, pouring it on extra thick this time trying to get her to take the bait.
“Kandomere dear, you and I both know you’re tracing this call,” she says softly.
He straightens. “I need to know where you are, darling.”
“I’m sure you do,” she replies.
He’s done playing this game.
”Listen-“ he begins angrily, before a pained sound from the other end stops him. He listens intently to the sound of ragged breathing, “Hello? Are you still there?” he asks the anger in his voice now gone.
A shaky intake of breath, “Kandomere…could…could you do me a favor?” she asks, voice wavering. “And get here before I bleed out.”
Jaw clenched he looks to Montehugh, who gives a thumbs up. They got the location. Turning his attention back to her, “Hang on alright, I’ll get a medical team to you shortly,” he says softly. “We know where you are now.”
“H-Hurry,” she says and then the line goes dead.
Moving quickly, him and Montehugh waste no time gathering the necessary teams along with the medical team he promised and head to the source of the call. Upon arriving where the call originated, he orders the teams to spread out and search for her in the parking garage she’s holed up in. Eventually they do find her, propped up against a wall in one of the stairwells. He doesn’t actually see her until the medical team has placed her on a stretcher.
And he smells her before he sees her.
The scent of blood is overwhelming. Watching them approach, her face is pale and if the bloodstains on her clothing are any indication, she has a nasty gash on her right side. She’s still breathing but it’s labored and slow. As she’s carried past him, her eyelids flutter open and her eyes meet his.
And then the medics load her into the ambulance and shut the door. Turning on his heel, he walks back to the car with Montehugh in tow.
He’d wanted to find her, but not like this.
Opening the car door, he shakes his head. He can’t lose another one.
*******
“Alright Doc whattya got for us?” Montehugh asks upon entering the room. Dr. Kim looks up from her paperwork, “Ah Special Agent Kandomere, Agent Montehugh,” she greets them both with a nod. Kandomere nods back. The human woman is in her mid fifties and dressed in her post-op attire. Her black hair is streaked with silver and tied back in a short ponytail. She stands and hands the elf the paperwork. Flipping through it he gives it a cursory glance: broken ribs, mild burns on the knees and legs, bruising and abrasions on her left arm, and a large laceration on her right side likely from a…he raises his brows.
“A large unidentified creature?” Kandomere questions.
“Mmhm,” she nods.
“How big we talkin’ Doc?” Montehugh asks. “Like a manticore?”
“A gryphon?” Kandomere suggests.
She shakes her head, “Bigger.”
“What’s bigger than a gryphon?” Montehugh demanded, looking to Kandomere.
“Are you certain?” the elf inquired.
“Honestly it’s hard to say, whatever struck her came at her from a downward angle. So it was either flying or standing at a much taller height than her,” she explains.
“What makes you think it’s not a gryphon then?” Montehugh questioned.
“Gryphons usually prefer to pick up their prey and drop it from a great height. Not only are her legs not broken there’s no wounds on her shoulders or back indicative of a gryphon attempting to lift her off the ground,” Dr. Kim continues. “No, this is only a partial claw mark.”
“If it’s only a partial claw mark, then how did she survive?” Kandomere muses.
“That’s a question you need to ask her,” she replies.
“There is something else I wanted to bring to your attention,” she says pointing to the paperwork in his hands. “There’s bruises and scratch marks on her left arm,” she states.
“From the creature?” Kandomere proposed.
“No, a person,” she responds.
“Defensive wounds,” Montehugh guessed.
“Someone a lot stronger than her tried to drag her by her arm,” Dr. Kim responds. “And based on the bruising, the broken ribs, the burns, and the laceration all of these injuries happened concurrently the night before you brought her in,” she finishes.
“Fuck! What happened to her from a week and half ago at the convenience store to when we found her?” Montehugh implored, turning to the elf.
“Well, hopefully she’ll be able to tell us,” Kandomere says. “When she wakes up.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” he says. She nods.
The elf turns to leave and then stops. He flips through the paperwork again; there was the mention of burns on her legs if she had fallen during the struggle…
“Dr. Kim?” he asks.
“Yes,” she replies.
“Would a dragon be large enough?” he questions.
She thinks for a moment, “Why yes it would,” she responds.
“Thank you, that will be all,” he says and he turns and walks out of the room. Montehugh joins him and as they walk down the hallway, “You don’t think he could’ve done it? Do you?” he asks. Kandomere considers that for a moment, “It’s unlikely, I see no reason he would suddenly go rogue.”
The dragon in question is of course, The L.A. Dragon, affectionately dubbed that name and an assortment of other nicknames by the people of Los Angeles. He had been living in this region long before the city was ever built and was well over five hundred years old. There were even more than a few occasions where he had defended the city itself. Whether it was fighting sea monsters that had wandered in from the coast or chasing off smaller magical creatures attempting to nest in the city such as wyverns or chimeras. He had no interest in involving himself in the personal affairs of the people who lived in the city, of course. But L.A. was part of his territory and he would defend his territory.
“What about his mate?” Montehugh challenged.
His mate.
She had only lived here for the past fifty years or so after coming down from the north, but at this time of year… “No, she’s shown signs of nesting,” he states, shaking his head. “She wouldn’t leave the eggs.”
“Well, what if our Bright was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be…” Montehugh offered. Kandomere knits his brows together, thinking of the possibility. The dragons would definitely attack her if she had entered their lair. “Perhaps…” he mused. But then again no one would have ever heard from her again. It’s not the sort of situation most people would survive Bright or not. “Perhaps not.”
The armed guards lining the wall outside the room where their Bright is being kept straighten at the sight of Kandomere’s and Montehugh’s approach. Without breaking stride, the elf gives them a cursory glance before entering the room. Despite the fact that there are multiple beds lining the wall next to the windows they’re all empty, save for one. Kandomere slows down as he approaches her. He can hear the beeping from the heart rate monitor and the sound of her quiet breathing. Kandomere is more than aware of how dangerous magic is and of how dangerous those are who wield it. He stops at the foot of the bed. But like this?
Like this she looks weak and helpless. And in a way she is.
She had called the MTF. Had asked him for help.
And he was doing everything in his power to make sure she would recover but…was it enough?
Montehugh sighed and shook his head. And then there was silence again.
Wait, silence?
The elf walks over to the darkened window to peer outside. Night had fallen but that wasn’t a problem for his keen eyesight. The sky was still cloudy but there was not a single drop of rain. Turning to look at his partner, “It’s stopped raining,” he notes.
Montehugh looks up to the window and then down at the woman in the bed.
“Shit! It’s ‘cause she’s out,” he exclaims.
“Yes,” Kandomere agrees nodding.
“Heh, you were right,” Montehugh says.
The elf moves to walk past her bed again but stops. Looking down at her, his eyes move to her hand. He places his left hand over her right one. Her skin feels cold and he’s not certain if that’s because it’s exposed or if it’s an indication of her condition. He remembers the first human Bright he had encountered, twenty years ago. He couldn’t save him when the Inferni…when Leilah…
He closes his eyes.
He had failed to do his job then, but he would not fail now. He opens his eyes and looks toward her face. Besides, he had met another human Bright recently and if he could survive all that he went through in a single night then surely she could.
If there was one trait about humans he could admire it was their tenacity.
They persevere. They keep fighting. No matter how hard it gets, or how strong their opponent is.
“Hey, boss?” Montehugh says.
“Hm?” Kandomere looks at him.
His partner is giving him a weird look and when the man’s eyes dart from him to her hand, he understands why.
Absentmindly, he had started stroking her hand with his thumb. He lets go and then tucks her hand under the blanket, mindful of the restraints, and walks back over to his partner.
“We should let her rest,” Kandomere remarks.
“Yeah,” Montehugh says side eyeing the elf.
And then Kandomere walks out of the room with Montehugh following slowly behind.
*******
Hearing a commotion down the hall, he realizes it’s coming from the medical bay. Quickly he makes his way towards where they’re keeping their newfound Bright. Upon entering he sees that there’s half a dozen armed guards sprawled out on the floor attempting to stand. And one of the medics is doing chest compressions on the Bright while two others scramble to move equipment from one of the other beds. The medics then roll a new defibrillator over to her and one of them removes the hospital gown. Using gel and placing the pads, “Clear,” one of them says and places the defibrillator paddles on the pads. Kandomere stares in horror as the first attempt doesn’t work nor the second attempt. But with the third the heart rate becomes steady.
Kandomere takes a breath and regains his composure. Turning his attention to the armed guards who’ve managed to stand at this point, “WHAT? HAPPENED?” he demands.
“Sir, she woke up,” one of the men says stepping forward. “And then she cast a spell.”
Montehugh having finally caught up enters the room and with a huff, “What happened?”
The elf folds his hands behind his back, “That’s exactly what I was about to find out.”
He notices out of the corner of his eye the medic who did the chest compressions approach him. Turning to face him he dips his head down and stares at him.
“Sir, the anesthesia wore off sooner than we expected. She shouldn’t have woke up for at least several more hours,” he explains.
The elf raises his head slightly indicating for the man to continue. “And sir, she was…she was fairly lucid. She was able to ask where she was and what she was doing here,” he said.
Kandomere’s eyes dart from the medic to the woman and then back. “Did she say anything else?” he asks.
The medic seems to think for a moment, “Yes, she overheard part of a conversation where you were mentioned by name. And in response she said and I quote, ‘Kandomere, that’s a nice name.’ ”
Kandomere and Montehugh exchange glances.
The medic shakes his head, “She was calm the entire time and then she tried to pick up her arm and saw the restraints. She had a panic attack, started hyperventilating, I almost had her calmed down and then they showed up,” he says pointing at the armed agents. “The moment she spotted them her eyes started glowing, so of course they start yelling and pointing their guns at her. Then she spoke something I didn’t understand and they all flew off the floor,” he says gesturing upwards.
“Could you repeat what word she said?” Kandomere asks.
The medic repeats it, he mispronounces it clearly, but that’s because it’s ancient Övüsi. The word meant, “to float.” A levitation spell.
“And then?” the elf asks. “What happened to send her into cardiac arrest?”
The man exhales, “A surge of energy from her fried all the equipment in her vicinity. And then she fell unconscious and went into cardiac arrest. That’s why we had to get equipment from the other side of the room.” The other medics nod in response.
Kandomere looks out the window, “Are you sure it wasn’t the storm somehow?” he asks.
“The what?” the medic asks following the elf’s gaze. Shaking his head in disbelief, “I- No, the energy came from her. I saw it.”
The elf then turns to the armed agents, “Are any of you injured?”
The agent who spoke earlier looks around to the others and after a few shakes of his fellows’ heads he replies, “No.”
“Then you are to return to your posts,” he says sternly, glaring at them.
“Yes, sir,” the agent replied. And with that the men filed out of the room.
With their patient in a stable condition the medics set to work moving aside the broken medical equipment and putting replacements from the other beds in their stead.
As Kandomere focuses his attention back to the woman he slowly approaches her side. Smelling burnt leather, his attention turns to the restraint hanging from the bed. Picking it up he examines what remains of it and he sees that a portion of it has been burnt through. Letting it hang limply, he then grasps her hand in his and lifts it up. Thumbing over her wrist he notes that her skin is unbroken. Gently placing her hand back down, his eyes trail over her unconscious form. The medics had recovered her with the blanket from the bed after the danger had passed. And closing his eyes he now simply listens to the sound of her gentle breathing and the rain falling against the window. The rain.
Opening his eyes, the elf fixes his gaze out the window. The sky was dark once more and rain fell heavily onto the ground below. The weather had been fluctuating these past couple of days. And it had been fluctuating with her health. Reaching down he brushes some of the hair out of her face; he blinks a few times and then he turns away.
“Notify me immediately when she awakens,” he says to the medical staff.
“Yes, sir,” they respond.
Nodding Kandomere walks past Montehugh, who’s been silently watching him this whole time. Moving to follow him, Montehugh waits until they’re out of the room and striding back down the hallway before speaking.
“You know, boss, I’ve noticed you act kinda strange around human Brights, even for you. Is there uh... a reason for that?” Montehugh asks.
The elf glances sidelong at his companion. “They’re rarer than elven Brights. And I only seem to meet them when they’re in mortal peril.” He can tell even from his periphery vision that his partner is less than satisfied with his answer, but Kandomere doesn’t care to elaborate any further at the moment. And ultimately Montehugh decides not to press him for more information. And the two of them continue down the hallway in silence.
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My Hero Chapter 14: New Term, New Heart ach
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A/N: As i already stated i am no longer using Rukea in my story cause my friend who made her and i are no longer talking and I'm not going to use her OC. Well what happens in this chapter is something I have been planing just not this soon and not this outcome, but it was the easiest way to write out her OC while progressing the story forward. From here on out the story isn't going to be as "happy" as it used to be. I mean i will still be happy but i am giving a warning that shit is going to hit the fan.
Misty's POV:
I took a deep breath as I walked through the doors of UA, I was nervous I didn't want to do this anymore be the spy. I've spent a lot of time with Toshinori since I met him, I was supposed to be gathering information but somehow I didn't want to anymore. I couldn't explain it any other way than that there was just a sort of light that he admitted that made you want to be a better person. But I couldn't afford to think that way, I had my parents to think about.
As I walked into the door of class 2B I saw Toshinori sitting by the window and I walk over. "Well Sunshine if we just keep bumping into each other like this people are going to talk." I laugh a little and sit on his desk.
"Hm they might but it would just be talk I'm sure." Toshinori laughs and leans back in his chair.
"Oh you hurt me I thought we had something special." I pretend to grab my heart in pain and we both laugh and I sit in the desk next to him. "Who would have thought we would be in the same class. Really small world for us."
He just nods in agreement, turning to face me. "It really is, if I didn't know any better I would say you were stalking me."
I scoff, "Is that so? Well you think so highly of yourself don't you?"
"Helps when I get so much attention from such a beautiful girl such as you." He says with a blush.
"Oh be careful you might give me a big head with complements like that."
Aurora's POV:
Hizashi and Rukea picked Aizawa and me up on the way to school and we get breakfast on the way.
"I'm not looking forward to this semester." I say with a sigh.
"Why not song bird?" Hizashi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
"Because Sensei is going to be extra hard on us with everything that's going on."
"What are you talking about what's going on?" Rukea asked.
"There's a bunch of villains getting together for some reason. They've just been doing some small scale stuff which is why it hasn't been on the news. But mom has been looking after some of the victims. They have memory loss and self-inflicted wounds that they swear they didn't do. But some of the wounds have been so bad that they needed surgery, hence why my mom was called."
"Do the police know anything?" Rukea asked.
"Not that their saying, they don't want to tip off the group. There's been other victims that have been hurt in normal crossfire, they wouldn't have thought anything of it if it wasn't for the fact that they were also around the people who had memory loss. That's all mom knows, well that and a lot of the pros are on alert trying to find out what's going on."
"And you know all this how?" Hizashi asks.
"Mom has a friend on the police force, and like I said a lot of the people needed surgery and mom did some of them."
"Does your mom ever sleep?" Hizashi asked.
"Only sometimes." I shrug.
"It all sounds like a pain to me." Aizawa said with a yawn.
"I'm pretty sure everything sounds like a pain to you." Rukea says.
"Not you." He kisses the top of her head and I pretend to gag. "Oh like you and lover boy over there are much better.
"That's more Hizashi than me." I retort.
"Are you telling me you don't like holding my hand and kissing me in public song bird?" Hizashi pretended to look offended.
I just laugh and pull his jacket closer around my shoulders. "I never said that just that most of the PDA is on you."
We walk through the entrance to UA and head to our class. As I expected our teacher was harder on us than last semester, and at the end of the day I was exhausted and went to my dorm and collapsed on my bed. Rukea poked her head through the joint door of our rooms.
"Hey Aizawa and I are going out tonight so I'll be back late just wanted to let you know."
"That's fine Hizashi is coming over to watch a movie. And Toshinori is coming over with a friend he wanted me to meet."
"Cool sounds like fun! See you later then."
Toshinori's POV:
Looking around I finally find Misty's dorm room and knocked on the door. "Hey Misty its me."
"You know," She says opening the door, " 'it's me' could be a lot of people." She smiles and let me in.
I spent a lot of time with her over break and even convinced her to come to one of my gigs with Aurora but she didn't stick around after to meet everybody. "I was wondering how your first day was."
"Look at you being Mr. Worried. But it went well, though you're in my class and you would know."
"That's true you did well. And I'm pretty sure most of the people in our class had a heart attack when they saw your outfit, does it have to show so much skin?" I asked feeling my face blush.
"Actually yes. My quirk is mind suggestion, and it works as long as my skin is in contact with whomever mind I'm suggesting to."
"Oh."
"So did you come here for a reason or just to ask me about my costume and day?" She asks and starts playing with her hair, twisting it around her finger.
"Well I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me tonight, well myself and a couple of friends of mine."
"Sure I can come along. But I have to call my parents first mind giving me a moment?"
I nod and wait out in the hall while she calls her parents. While I'm waiting I get a text from Aurora.
'There's been an accident. I need you to come to the Hospital.'
Quickly I texted her back. 'I'll be there as soon as I can.'
Just as I hit send the door opens and Misty walks out. "Sunshine what's wrong?" She asks a frown on her face.
"I have to do my friends are at the hospital I don't know what happened. But I have to go make sure that they are ok."
"Yeah of course go go."
Aurora's POV:
I paced my hospital room over and over again trying to make since of what had just happened. I was trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder and side. Not caring that I was told to stay in bed, my mind was racing and I didn't know what to do. I needed someone to tell me that everything is going to be ok, I needed to see my friends, my mother she was probably in surgery now with Hizashi or Rukea.
"Oh no," the words came out in a horse whisper as I looked threw my belongings for my phone once again. When I got it I video called Hizashi's mom and set the phone down so I could sign to her as best as I could. After what seemed like forever she answered.
'Aurora darling what happened? Your face is all cut and what happened to your hand? Where are you?'
'I'm at the hospital, there's been an accident. Hizashi and Rukea are in surgery, I can explain more when you get here.'
'We are on our way what room are you in, what hospital?'
'Room 302 and it's the hospital on 22nd street near the school.'
'We will be there as soon as possible. Can you translate for us until they hospital gets one?'
'Yes of course. Toshinori is also on his way he might be here by the time you are. I will let the nurse know who you two are and that it is ok for you to be sent up to my room.'
'Sweetie are you going to be ok?'
'I think so.'
'Just hold tight.'
I nod and she hangs up. I just keep thinking that I need someone and then the door to my room opens and Aizawa walks in. "Aizawa!" I hug him tightly or as much as I can with my sprained wrist and gun shot wound to the shoulder.
"Any news?" He asks hugging me back tightly letting out a sigh of relief.
"No. but I told Hizashi's parents and they are on the way, so is Toshinori."
"My parents should be here soon as well. Does your mom know?"
"Yeah she's doing the surgery on one of them. And I'm expecting the police will be here soon." I let go and we sit on the hospital bed. "Where did it all go wrong? We were just getting ice cream.... This is what I was talking about earlier. The random attacks and everything. The bag guys are planning something and they want to make a point."
"By beating up children?"
"Children who go to the number one hero school in the world. Think about it. How do you make a statement? You hit it where it hurts. Where does it hurt? Children, attacking children always make people mad. How do you make it the most impactful? You go after a land mark, something that means something to everybody, thus you attack UA, or children from it. It proves that for all its security that even UA isn't safe that they can still get to it, to us."
"You've done a lot of thinking about this."
"My mind has been on over load trying to come up with some explanation of why this happened, why they would do this. Why us. This is the only one I can come up with."
"You need to rest, ok."
"I can't Hizashi and Rukea are both hurt and there is nothing in my big brain that I can do to help them."
"That's right you can't, but you can help yourself by calming down and resting." Aizawa tells me wrapping an arm around me, making me lay my head on his shoulder. "And things will work out, your mother is a good doctor, and so are all the doctors here. It will work out."
I just nod and hold my friend, worried and scared. And for the second time the door opens and Aizawa's parents walk through it and they both hug us and asked what happened. During all the talking and the crying the phone rings and I answer it a nurse on the other end says that there are two dead adults here to see me and asks if I know them.
"Yes they are my friend's parents, Hizashi Yamada's parents."
"I'll send them up right away." Then she hangs up.
A few minutes later for the third time the door opens Toshinori and Hizashi's parents coming through it.
'I see you found Toshinori.' I sign to Hizashi's parents while speaking to the rest of the room. I do quick introductions between Aizawa's parents and Hizashi's. And after a polite exchange they asked the question that everybody wanted to know.
"What happened?" Aizawa's mother asked.
As Aizawa spoke I signed to Hizashi's parents as the whole horrible scene was laid out.
"We all decided to get some ice cream together, before we meet up with Toshinori and his friend. Well on the way back Aurora noticed what looked like some guys fallowing us. We tried to cross the street to see if they really were or if we were just being worried for nothing. As we crossed the street Hizashi and I heard a car speed up. I was able to pull Aurora out of the way for the most part, but Hizashi and Rukea were further ahead than we were, Hizashi managed to get themselves mostly out of the way but they were side swiped. Rukea hit the windshield of the car and rolled off the top as it passed. When Aurora and I rushed to their sides there was a gun shot and Aurora went down. Though I didn't know that right away I was trying to make sure that Rukea was alive. Hizashi got up and went over to Aurora and then two goons came out and one of them tried to fight me and that's how I got my arm broken. Hizashi got it worse, since he isn't good at hand to hand combat. Least not like Aurora and me, he got beat up pretty bad before the cops came. We were all rushed here and that's all we know."
'Why did they attack you do you know?' Hizashi's father asked.
"No we don't" I told him and the others.
'Is my son going to be ok?' He mom asked tears running down her face.
I lost it the tears falling fast as I answered her 'I don't know the doctors aren't telling me anything because I'm not family, same with Rukea. All I know is that my mom is working on one of them. But he was pretty bad, and so was she.'
His mom didn't say anything she just hugged me and held me. A doctor finally comes in and asks to speak to Hizashi's parents.
Whipping my tears I inform him that they are deaf and until an interpreter can be brought to the hospital. The doctor nods and starts explaining how Hizashi is doing that he had a few broken bones and that his lung had been punctured and that it was touch and go but that he is expected to make a full recovery. That he is in the room down the hall and he should be waiting up soon if they want to sit and wait with him. Telling him that they did they followed the doctor to the room and brought me with them incase they need to talk to the other doctors.
Walking into the room I almost started crying again. He was covered in casts and bandages and cuts. He got those trying to save me and Rukea. His parents rushed over to him and I slid down the wall needing a moment before I could go over.
Aizawa's POV:
My parents went to go get something to eat leaving myself and Toshori alone in Alfea's room.
"Are you ok?" He asked me.
"As ok as I can be, couple broken bones a slight concussion, my best friend is broken and I don't know how to help her, my girlfriend might not live, and my other best friend is holding on by a thread. And I have no idea how to fix it. Any of it."
"You can't, you just have to accept that, we are both only human and we're not hero's yet. And even if we were we can't save everybody."
"Thanks."
We sat in silence until Aurora's mother came in.
"Aizawa?" She says slowly.
"What?" I ask not wanting to hear what she has to say, going by her look it's not good.
"I've already told her parents but I wanted you to hear it from me. She didn't make it. We did everything that we could. I can't go into detail since you are not family, but she wasn't in pain. And it was quick. Shota I am so sorry."
I didn't say anything I just sat and let everything sink in.
"Are you going to be ok?" Toshinori asked. But it sounded like it was coming from a mile away.
"I think I just need to be alone." I got up and went back to my room.
Aurora's POV:
When the interpreter got there I took a rest for a bit sitting in the chair next to Hizashi's bed holding his hand. "Please wake up." I whisper to him while his parents talked with the doctors. "I need to tell you something that I can't if you're not awake. So please come back to me."
Slowly I fell asleep still holding his hand. I woke up some time later when Hizashi moved his hand. When I looked up I saw he was talking with his parents. I only got the tail end of the conversation and all I caught was. 'Rukea is dead'.
Hizashi and I sit frozen. I needed to see Aizawa but I needed to be with Hizashi too. I need to make sure that they are both ok. Hizashi must have guessed what I was thinking because he took my hand.
"Make sure that he is ok." He smiles and kisses my hand.
"Thank you. And I'll be back as soon as I can. I'm sorry."
"No it's ok. Just come back soon as you can ok? I'll be here I don't think I'm going to be going anywhere anytime soon."
I nod and go to his room where I found him sitting by the window in the seat crying.
"Aizawa how long have you been here by yourself?"
"A couple hours. I just can't believe that she's gone."
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