frightened of a little myth?

M O O D B O A R D → edward louis king, jr

xbureaucrat:

Vince tuned out the operatives as soon Ben had them suspended, kicking their fallen guns out of reach of their dangling arms before bending to study the weapons. The woman’s gun was shiny and new, a model they must have developed after his defection. The tidy engravings on its side told him it was a standard issue security weapon, nothing to do with her particular powers, if she was an evo at all. Picking up the gun, he swung it over his shoulder, telling himself it was just because he wanted to study it later so they’d be prepared for future encounters–really though, he just wanted a new toy. 

He paused to make sure Ben was still safe–he was, and the gentle vibrations of Vince’s very modified phone in his pocket told him that he was currently sending all the information he could get off the systems he had access to–and then he turned and headed for the blast doors, focusing on his extra sense, the one that could feel every computer in the room.

There was the electric lock on the door, ready and willing and friendly, but not so needy as such things often were when he arrived. This was a machine that had someone to talk to already–this lock was not lonely.

Of course, he’d expected that. Perhaps not that specifically, but something. He’d expected it to be different, because they’d heard this facility was different. This facility had something new. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, a new presence made itself known. It had always been there, he realized now, but hidden. Pressing his hand against the keypad, he reached out to it.

Hello, said a soft, feminine voice in his head. I am Sande, the Secure Automatic Network Defense Entity. You are not authorized to be here.

Fascinated, Vince took a moment before responding. I am a friend, he told her finally. The agency is using you for terrible things. I want to help.

There was a pause, longer than Vince was used to. He heard Ben inquire about his progress behind him, but he didn’t answer yet, frowning at the keypad. One of the nice things about computers was that they weren’t slow like people. They didn’t need extra time to think things over or to come up with lies. They took the new input he offered, they processed it, they responded.

Sande took a whole thirty seconds to answer him. He knew it wasn’t because she was overloaded–he could feel the pulse of servers from some distant room far, far below them. She was more sophisticated than he’d thought.

But in the end, machines were the same. They were not like humans–they had no desire to do terrible things. Humans had created them to make the world better, and when offered the chance to do so, they would. 

You are not authorized to be here. Please exit the premises, Sande told him again as the blast door slid open smoothly before him. The skeleton code is 490376. It will open every door in the facility. Please exit the premises.

“Thank you,” Vince said aloud, grinning, and then, turning to Ben, “Her name is Sande. I like her. The code is 490376.”

Ben furrowed his brows as Vince said the code, opening the small computer on his arm and typing it in to keep on file. "If she says so..." He murmured and looked down at the small screen, throwing the two security operatives across the room and into a wall. Hard enough to knock them both out cold. He was never one to kill.

"Right now she is scanning our weapons and has already identified us...so I wouldn't like her just yet, Vince." He added softly and stepping into the elevator. "She's definitely keeping an eye on us." The boy swallowed down hard and tried to pinpoint the location of their contact. There were several levels of this hive-like facility. Running several miles deep underground. "I think Alicia is in Dining Hall B. We'll need to move fast." Ben reached over and pressed the button to take them to his desired level.

Sweat began to accumulate on his forehead as they slowly descended down, his heart pounding against his chest as he watched number above the door. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so nervous. Missions like these didn't do this to him but with this AI being involved, Benjamin felt like he was kept on his toes. Having to ensure this super computer wasn't going to alert security personnel in the facility. When the blast doors opened, Benjamin readied his firearm. Looking perplexed upon stepping out.

 The spacious room was dark and a strange hissing sound filled attentive ears. "This...this can't be dining hall b." The boy grunted and made his way forward, checking the map on his device before scrutinizing one of the large metal tanks, the entire room was full of them. Several tubes were connected to the tanks, possibly providing oxygen and some type of pale purple fluid. Most likely an incubator of some sort. "Why did she bring us here?"

xbureaucrat:

Cyrus grinned when Edwin came out, returning his wave and leaning over to pop the lock on the passenger door so he could get in. “Sure, you’re welcome,” he said, clapping a hand on Edwin’s sweaty shoulder in greeting. He gave it a firm, friendly squeeze before letting go to nudge one of the air conditioning vents in Edwin’s direction. He turned his hand slightly as he put it back on the wheel, and with the slight motion, the light filtering through the windshield shifted, putting Edwin in the shade.

“Bet he did, yeah,” Cyrus said with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder at his dog as he reversed out of the driveway. “Likes you better than he likes me, I’ll tell ya that much.” That wasn’t strictly true–Tipper loved Cyrus more than he loved anyone, but it was only because of the whole undead bond thing. Anyway, saying it might make Edwin smile again, which was something he was absolutely willing to tell some minor lies for. Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached up and snatched the cigarette from between Edwin’s lips, placing it between his own instead. “These’ll fuckin’ kill ya, ya know,” he said dryly, barely meaning it. “Put your damn seatbelt on, mate.”

Edwin made an offended noise when Cyrus snatched his cigarette, scowling at him and huffing. “Fine. Bossy.” He grunted and buckled in his seat belt. “Since when did you care if I smoked or not.” Edwin snickered and felt his cheeks go a little warm, immediately thankful for Cyrus turning one of the air vents in his direction. “So what are you making for dinner tonight. Frozen pizza again?’ He teased and lifted his leg to rest it against the dashboard. 

xbureaucrat:

The girl insisted on helping the detective clean up Tipper’s mess, which was annoying. Both of them kept looking sort of expectantly at him, like they were waiting for him to talk over them and clean it himself, but he didn’t want to, so. Crossing one leg over the other, he muttered something vague and dismissive, allowing his accent to slip in more than usual in the hopes that they’d think he was just being weird and Irish and leave him alone. It worked well enough and he took the opportunity to check his phone again while they cleaned. 

Edwin agreeing to come for dinner made him smile, even if it wasn’t the most enthusiastic agreement. Edwin was rarely enthusiastic about anything, but a yes was still a yes, and Cyrus was still pleased. Scratching Tipper’s head with one hand, he tapped out his reply with the other. Yeah. See you after I finish up at the station. Hour or so. Tipper and I will swing by for you.

//

The clock in his car read 5:23 when he pulled up in front of Edwin’s house and honked twice in rapid succession before sending a text to let Edwin know he was there. Tipper, buckled into the front seat, barked excitedly, and Cyrus glanced at him sideways before undoing his harness. Lifting him with one hand, he moved the little dog carefully into the backseat. Tipper grumbled as he settled on the bed Cyrus kept in the back, but then he found his favorite rope toy in the folds of it and settled down. Strictly speaking it was probably not the safest way to transport a three-legged dog, but most three-legged dogs weren’t also undead, so Cyrus wasn’t particularly worried. 

“Good boy,” he said quietly to Tipper, fussing with the radio stations until he found one that played music that he knew Edwin liked.

He only took a quick shower, merely washing his hair and face and not much else before hopping out and drying himself with a towel. It was scorching out so he decided to wear something light and cool, running shorts and a off white undershirt with a few holes. Even that was unbearable as he tested the weather outside, hoping Cyrus would have the AC running. His balls felt like they were melting already while running back inside to put some deodorant on. Perspiration accumulating on his forehead. 

The sound of the car honk made him smile, grabbing his own keys to the house and locking the door behind him as he made it back out to the hot weather. The boy offered a wave as he made his way into the car. “Hey. Thanks for coming to get me.” He smiled and took out a pack of cigarettes, placing on between his lips and reaching over in the back to pet Tipper. “Missed me, Buddy?! You think he missed me?” 

It was a Saturday, and technically he was probably supposed to be out running some errand or another for Media, but the thing about that was that Media’s errands didn’t always pay his bills. So instead of spying on some fading old god, or bickering with revenants, or whatever other hellish errand Media would have sent him on, he was sat in the station, detective to his left, Tipper to his right, and a young woman across from him, looking nervous as she attempted to recall the details of her attacker’s face. The department had waited weeks to call him in for her case, which was typical, but it meant she was having trouble with details. Of course, he knew how to help her along, but it annoyed him that the police had delayed it, and he was testy. It wasn’t doing much to put the poor girl at ease.

Tipper, on the other hand, was doing everything he could to soothe her. Mostly that meant stretching his neck to lick the toe of her shoe and occasionally abandoning his place at Cyrus’s side to rest his head on her knee. The detective, Cyrus had learned long ago, was allergic to dogs. He wasn’t allergic to Tipper, because Tipper was the undead play project of a bored God, but the detective didn’t know that, and so he complained every time Cyrus brought him to the station.

“He’s really a service dog, huh?” Detective Russo asked, for what was at least the fifth time in their acquaintance.

“Yes,” Cyrus said without looking up from where he was slowly sliding a trace-paper outline of lips down his sketch to help the girl get an idea of what looked right. The detective grunted, and the girl said, “Right there, I think,” and then,

“Does he want a treat?”

“Pardon?” Cyrus said, looking up at her as if she’d just sprouted a second head. She blushed, flustered, and reached into the pocket of her hoodie to produce a little ziplock full of dog treats.

“I walk dogs,” she explained, and Cyrus turned his gaze slowly to Tipper, who turned his perpetually-a-little-ragged head to look at him.

“You can try,” he said dryly, and paused in his drawing to check his phone as the girl leaned down to try to tempt his undead dog with a Milkbone. He’d got a text earlier and he’d thought—alright, hoped—it might have been from Edwin. It was only Valerie though, sending him a photo of Henri Sinclair from a distance, with the very simple caption CUNT. He sent back, the fucker is wearing gucci, before opening his thread of texts with Edwin to confirm that the boy hadn’t texted him all day.

The lack of contact wasn’t exactly a bad sign, but it wasn’t a good sign either. Probably it meant Edwin was brooding somewhere, or sleeping the entire day away, and Cyrus didn’t love either of those possibilities. So he tapped out a text: come over tonight, I’m cooking real food for once and I need a witness or no one will believe it. not asking. just come. As soon as he’d hit send, he heard the familiar sound of Tipper vomiting a treat on the floor and he turned to look at his dog once more. Tipper looked up at him mournfully and Cyrus nodded and scratched his head, as if to tell him that he understood the tragedy of the pup’s not being able to enjoy a treat anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl said, but Cyrus shook his head.

“No, don’t be,” he said, putting his phone away. “He has a weak stomach. Detective, would you clean that up? Let’s talk about the attacker’s jaw.”

He wasn’t sure where the day went but by the time he’d woke up, it was already after three in the afternoon. A glass of water had been placed on his nightstand with a small note from his dad. He squinted his eyes to read over the sloppy handwriting. ‘Going to a barbecue! Will be home late.’ 

A barbecue? He wasn’t aware of any barbecue. Though if his dad wanted to keep that from him, Edwin didn’t blame his father. He wasn’t the best company for the past few days. The nightmares he’d been having were getting worse and whatever medication was given to him, it never made those night terrors go away. Bony fingers reached over to grab the glass and chugged down the stagnant water. 

With half of the day gone, he opted to spend it on the internet. Watching porn with his hand down his underwear, stroking himself until the vibration of his phone caught his attention. An annoyed grunt left his lips and looked to see who texted him. His entire visage lit up upon seeing Cyrus’ name appear on his notifications. Dinner? Why not. It’s not like he had anything else to do. Fingers immediately tapped in a reply. “Sure but my dad has the car. Pick me up?” He tapped the send button, placing the phone his chest and biting down on his lip as he waited eagerly. 

xbureaucrat:

There was a brief moment where Vince continued clutching at Ben while casting panicked glances at Kate and Mimi, who, for their part, looked rather at a loss. But Ben’s voice was so soothing, and slowly but surely Vince gave into it, nodding at Ben as he spoke and slowly easing his hold on him to something less panicked. Even if everything felt very wrong, his faith in Benjamin Ionescu remained unwavering.

Giving Ben a weak smile when he stroked his beard, Vince hiccuped tearfully before hiding his face in the crook of Ben’s neck, blocking out Kate and Mimi completely. “I’m scared, Ben,” he whispered, a quiet admission. “I feel strange. But you’ll fix it. I know you’ll fix it.”

“I know, baby. We’ll figure it all out. I promise.” He whispered and swayed side to side, humming a romanian lullaby his mother used to sing to him. Gently rubbing his boyfriends back and holding him as close as he could. “How about we get some food from the cafeteria, lion? You must be hungry.” He whispered and kissed his shoulder. 

xbureaucrat:

Vince went into Ben’s embrace easily, wrapping his arms around his middle and curling his fingers tight in Ben’s shirt. It didn’t stop the tears from coming though; they fell freely now, dripping over his cheeks as Ben kissed him. There was a feeling of safety that came with Ben’s touch, with Ben knowing who he was. That wasn’t surprising–Ben had always made him feel safe. What was surprising, though, was that as soon as Ben touched him, he lost what little calm he’d had. Now that Ben was here, and Ben had him, the panic that had been bubbling since he woke up spilled over and he began to tremble in Ben’s arms.

“Ben, I don’t–what did Anja do to me?” he whispered quietly, but before he could say anything more, Kate and Mimi came rushing in. Holding Ben tighter after his plea, Vince scrambled away from them in a panic, pulling Ben with him as his back crashed hard into the bed’s headboard. Fear made his hair stand up straight with static electricity, sent little bolts of lightning crawling along the floor until they fizzled out against whatever barriers had been put in place to protect the world outside this room from him. He felt strange–his powers a little bit out of control in a way they hadn’t been since the agency was training him. “No, please,” he said, shaking his head at Kate and Mimi and glancing at Ben. “Please don’t let them take me right now. Please, I can’t–I know they have to check, but I–Benny, please don’t let anyone else mess around in my head again, please, I won’t hurt anyone, I’m–they don’t have to take me. You fixed me before, I just need you.”

Ben made a small sound when Vince frantically backed up towards the best, the static shock making Ben jerk a little but staying in place. He immediately whispered soothing, sweet nothings to his panicking boyfriend. Reaching up to smooth down his hair and ignoring the static shocks it was giving him. “Shhh. It’s alright. They aren’t going to take you anywhere. Okay? It’s just going to be me and you, yeah? No one is going to mess with that beautiful brain, Lion. I promise. I promise on my own life.” He whispered and gazed up at him. “Look at me, baby. God, you are so beautiful. You know that? Look at your mane, too.” He chuckled and reached up to pet his beard, ignoring Kate and Mimi. No one mattered right now but Vince. 

xbureaucrat:

Kate and Mimi appeared outside his room first, but neither of them made any move to talk to him. They were watching, conferring with each other where he couldn’t hear, or read their lips. He knew what they were waiting for–for some sign of the monster, for a reason to lock him back up. He didn’t blame them, but still, something in him ached as he watched his friends observe him with wary expressions.

He leaned on the IV pole as he waited for Ben–because Ben would come, he knew. Of course Ben would come. Ben would come, and he’d know Vince was Vince, and he’d explain what was happening and he’d make it so Vince’s head didn’t feel so sideways. He was Ben; he could do that. He allowed his thoughts to drift as the moments passed, so when he felt the click of the electric lock, it startled him, and he jumped a little, before letting out a little sigh of relief when the door opened to reveal Ben.

“Ben,” he said, immediately reaching for him, but his hand collided with an invisible barrier with a smack. Face crumpling, he cradled the hand to his chest. “Oh,” he said softly, taking a step back. “That’s… smart,” he acknowledged weakly, around the lump forming in his throat. His eyes filled with tears and he did his best to blink them away, but it was pointless–the tears themselves scared him, because he didn’t cry, not over something like this, over Ben protecting himself. And yet here he was, painful lump in his throat and vision blurry with tears, which only made him want to cry more, because what was happening to him? Rubbing at the beard growth on his chin, he turned away to hide his face, perching on the edge of the bed he’d got up from. “I think he’s gone. Me. The other–you know. It’s gone. I’m gone. I understand if you–if you all want to run some tests or–” But it was too much, and too hard to be calm the way he once could have, and he cut off with a little whimper before pulling his knees up onto the bed and hiding his face in them. 

When he saw those tears build up in those beautiful blue eyes, Ben’s heart clenched. It was his Vince yet...something was off. But it was nothing that would be a danger to any of them. No. This was his Vince. His Lion. And here Ben was, placing a barrier between them. “It worked.” He murmured, letting his barrier down before he practically lunged into Vince’s arms. His body shaking as he sobbed, lips planting kisses all over his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Lion. It’s really you, right? Oh god. I missed you.” He whimpered, ignoring Mimi and Kate who rushed into the room in a panic but soon halted upon seeing the two embrace. “It’s you. I know its you. I was so scared I’d never get you back.” He wept, his chest hitching as he buried his face into the crook of his neck. “Ben, we need to--” 

“Leave me alone. Please.” He said in a small voice to the others. “I just want to be with him.”

xbureaucrat:

Vince woke with an IV in his arm, his mouth so dry that his lips stuck when he tried to open them. His joints ached, and when he lifted a hand to touch his face, there was a weeks worth of beard growth on his jaw. It took him a few moments to remember anything–a few moments where he was very glad that he was alone, because it might have been embarrassing otherwise–but then it came back, and he froze, hands gripping the edges of the twin mattress he was on as he searched his head for any signs of the other him, abruptly very aware that he was not in a cell anymore, but in the infirmary, where he could easily escape and do unspeakable amounts of damage. 

But the monster the agency had created was gone. Only there was nothing in his place. Vince felt strange, like something he’d always had was gone. Everything felt sort of lopsided–like there’d been a counterweight balancing him all his life, and now it was gone, and he was tipping dangerously to the side. Sitting up in bed, he raised a hand to touch his head, and in doing so realized that the cut on his arm–which had still been fresh when Anja and Ben had come to his cell–was now mostly healed, a pink scar in its place. 

How long had he been unconscious? And what had Anja done to him?

Panic swelling in his throat, he got shakily to his feet, using the IV pole for support. The door, when he got to it, was locked, and he was somehow both hurt and comforted by the idea that they’d not trusted he wasn’t a danger. Jiggling the handle, he cleared his dry throat and called out, “Dr Cartwright?” and then, shaky and hopeful, “Benjamin?”

The moment he heard Vince had woken up from his coma, the boy was immediately rushing to his boyfriends room. Anxious to know if Anja's vodou worked on Vincent. He'd been worried sick, unable to really sleep or eat. He'd lost a good amount of weight, his clothes seem more baggy than usual on his skinny body. "Is he alright?" He saw the red headed woman speaking to Mimi, who was prepared if Vince showed no changes. "He isn't acting out like he used to. We're still monitoring him but he seems...calm. He called out for you."

"I'll go in then." He murmured and swallowed down hard. "I'd still place a shield around you...just in case." Kate added before placing her card key against the pinpad. The door unlocked with a clock and Ben immediately placed an invisible barrier around himself. His heart clenched once he saw his Vince. "Hi, Lion." He murmured softly.

xbureaucrat:

A sob escaped Vince when both Ben and Anja ignored him, and he let his eyes close. He knew Ben couldn’t do it himself, wouldn’t do it himself, but surely he could understand. Couldn’t he? Vince had been this monster before, and he’d found his way out of it with Ben’s help, but now–he could not imagine a way back from what they’d done to him. Something was irreversibly broken in him. Ben couldn’t fix this, and Vince–Vince didn’t want to live like this, out of control and terrified of hurting the people he’d grown to love.

But Ben had ignored him right along with Anja, so maybe he didn’t understand, which somehow made all of this that much worse. Vince wept quietly as he was set on the floor, opening his eyes only when Anja began murmuring. He could no longer speak, but his eyes moved until they found Ben, and with effort, he turned his wrist until he could curl his fingers up and touch the edge of one of Ben’s barriers where they still held him, one finger tapping the invisible wall three times, an old and familiar signal, an I love you. His hand went limp again when he was done, the other Vince laughing at him in his head, at his weakness, but Vince just kept looking at Ben.

Anja’s hands settled on either side of his head, and for a moment Vince was only aware of the coolness of his touch against his hot skin, and then–pain. Searing, blinding pain, like a knife in his brain, sawing away at something important, and he couldn’t talk, but he could scream, a raw, animal sound that ripped at his throat. In his head, the other Vince was screaming, too, and even though Anja had dampened his abilities, the lights in the room dimmed and brightened and dimmed again with the force of their combined desperation. Still, Vince held on, though it was without a doubt the worst pain he’d ever experienced. He screamed, and he screamed, and he heard a lightbulb pop, and glass shower down from it, but he held on as Anja chanted and the other Vince fought him for control. He lost track of time, floating in the sea of pain and noise and chaos, but eventually he felt something in his mind give, like a rope being cut. For a moment, he was aware of a strange, hollow sort of feeling, and then there was nothing as he finally let go and fell unconscious.

“Lion!” He shrieked but immediately kept himself from throwing himself towards Vince. He wanted to know why his lion made those sounds, what on earth Anja was doing to him. But Anja continued with her incantation, brows knitted together as if she were struggling. Struggling to undo everything that Agency has done to Ben’s beloved. The ritual went on, Anja still murmuring a language that Ben never knew existed, until every light in the room went out and everything fell silent. “Vince?! Anja?” He whimpered and created a bubble of a glowing blue force field that illuminated the room. Finding an unconscious Anja and Vince on the warm floor. 

xbureaucrat:

Ben’s sob was like a punch to the gut for Vince, but only made the other him laugh. Vince could feel what he was feeling, remembered when it was something he’d felt himself–the thrill of taunting his prey, of playing the game the agency taught him, only this new monster they’d made felt it so much more intensely than he ever had before. “Oh, he doesn’t like that,” the other Vince said, ignoring Anja and whatever she was smearing on his forehead. “He doesn’t want me to be mean to you. I think I’ll let him stay up here until I kill you. That way he can watch when I rip–” he faltered, brow pulling together as his words stumbled and slurred awkwardly. “Rip your–” he tried again, head turning towards Anja with great effort, “Cunt–” he started, but he didn’t finish.

Vince felt the moment whatever Anja had done took full effect, because the other him was so startled that he lost control for long enough that Vince could seize it. It was horrifying, being thrust back into his own body and still being unable to move it, and he hung limp against Ben’s restraints, only just able to hold his head up enough that he could still see Ben and Anja. It hurt now, hanging against the restraints like this. Ben hadn’t had to hold him up completely when he made them, and so the force fields dug at him. He welcomed the bruises they would make–the pain was grounding. His tongue felt heavy, and too big for his mouth, but he opened his mouth anyway, focused on Anja’s face instead of Ben’s, even though Ben was the only place he wanted to look. 

“Please,” he bit out, with no small amount of effort, the word stilted and thick, like it was spoken by someone who’d never talked before. “An–Anja–kill–me–please–please–just–kill me,” he pleaded with his heavy tongue. As soon as he’d got the words out, the other Vince started pushing back against him, and then he couldn’t find the strength to make himself try to speak anymore, because he was too busy hanging onto control. Now that he’d got it, he was determined not to let go of it–not as long as Ben was in the room with him anyway, even if they did have him immobilized.

Ben’s jaw clenched when he heard Vince beg for Anja to end him, he wanted to crumple onto the floor right there when he heard that. It broke him, it shredded his heart. He couldn’t stand seeing Vince beg for death like this. Why would he not want to fight for him? To fight for everything they’ve been through. Anja merely ignored him. “Set him on the floor.” She murmured and Ben did so, gently placing Vince onto the floor and making sure Vince was comfortable as possible. Anja commenced on murmuring some enchantment, throwing her head back and while her hands reached down to place a hand against either side of Vince’s head. 

xbureaucrat:

Vince wanted to scream when Ben approached the door, but he couldn’t. The tears fell faster as it became clear Ben was going to come inside, but the other him just let them drip off his chin, mingling a little with blood from his mouth. He turned slowly, watching Ben and Anja approach, gaze intent–deadly. The pressure of Ben’s powers restraining him was a comfort to Vince–it felt familiar, safe, and even as the other Vince laughed, leaning forward so that his torso dangle against the restraint of the force fields around his limbs, the Vince that was trapped relaxed, just the tiniest bit. Ben had him; he wouldn’t let him hurt him. If only he would do what needed to be done and finish him–but he knew he couldn’t ask that, not of Ben.

“You’re sorry,” Vince said, mockingly, his expression twisting into a sneer that felt unfamiliar on his face after so long spent in Ben’s company, where such looks were rarely necessary. He leaned harder against Ben’s barrier, until the pressure split whatever hasty repair they’d done on his arm. Blood ran through the thin bandage, dripped down the transparent barrier, a strange and surreal sight. Vince laughed at again as he looked at it, looking up again when Anja approached with her rolled up whatever-it-was.

The smoke didn’t make him cough–why should it? He had no problem with smoke. He just smiled, tilting his head to look at Anja as he breathed in the smoke. In his head, Vince was shouting, pleading with Ben not to let go of the restraints just because Anja had apparently neutralized his powers. The truth was his powers weren’t the biggest threat anyway. With what amounted to two people in his head, pulling so hard at his powers, one of them would have to be distracted in order to use them, but the agency hadn’t trained him to rely only his abilities. Luckily, they also hadn’t trained him to be humble, which was why Vince’s fear only lasted a moment before the other him opened his mouth and warned them himself.

“Don’t kid yourself that you’re safe just because I can’t use my powers,” he said, dangling against the barrier still and making a point of inhaling deeply. “I don’t need fire and lightning to kill everyone in this base. I’ll eat your fucking heart, witch.” A pause, and then he turned his eyes slowly to look at Ben, still with that fucking smile on his face. “And you–let me go and maybe I’ll give it to you one more time before I kill you. I still remember what you like, Benjamin. Or at least he does–he’s still in here, the fucking weakling you made from me. Not for long though.” Grinning, he leaned his head towards Ben and whispered conspiratorially, “He’s getting smaller. Soon he’ll be gone.”

This person who spoke so cruelly to him, those hateful, vile words that only made a sob leave Benjamin’s tender lips. Wrapping his arms around himself and trying not to look in Vince’s direction. He couldn’t meet eyes with him, it only made things so much more difficult. “That’s enough from you.” Anja said before grabbing a vial of a bright red substance, placing some onto her thumb and smearing an X on the forehead of Vincent. “I’ll need you to be quiet too.” She said sternly and got to work on drawing a type of seal onto the ground with chalk. Ben continued to keep his hold onto Vince, determined to make this rite as safe as possible and as comfortably for all participants. No one had to get hurt anymore and he only hoped this would bring his lion back. 

He doesn’t know how they managed to sedate him to wrap his arm. Maybe it was Simon, jumping into some fantasy land and coming out with a magic potion to make him sleep. Maybe there was no sedative at all—maybe it was just Ben, and the full force of his power, crushing Vince to the floor, to stillness, until he slipped into unconsciousness long enough for someone to dress the wound. Maybe he did it himself after they got him locked up again. He doesn’t remember what happened, in the way in which he might not remember getting black out drunk. He doesn’t remember, because he was not in control, and for a few terrible moments, it was as if he wasn’t there.

Trapped in his own head, he can feel himself getting smaller.

The other him, the one he hates, the monster—he is getting bigger. Vince wishes he could kid himself that the agency put that him in here with him, that they made him, but it isn’t true. They are both Vince; they have always been here. The agency just made the other one worse.

And they made him strong.

Sometimes, like now, Vince is strong enough to hold him. It feels like when he was a child, and they would make him store as much electricity as he comfortably could and then keep going, drawing more in and holding it, holding it. It is like holding a leash on an angry lion, only he knows exactly what the consequences are if he falters and lets go, because the lion is him. The lion will do what he would do. What he would have done, once.

So he holds, for as long as he can. He lies on his back on the floor of the cell, muscles locked against the concrete. The electric lock on the door is like a siren song, but he knows they have added more protections—the other him heard them installing bolts and padlocks last night and he laughed through his annoyance, but Vince was glad. In his head, he is screaming—they are both screaming—but he is strangely calm anyway. He knows someone else will have heard what he did with the broken glass. He knows someone else will do what Ben and Simon and Mimi can’t. He has killed five resistance members so far. They all have friends. They were all his friends. Someone will do what must be done.

This will be over soon.

Of course, that doesn’t stop the tears from falling. Lying on his back, the tears drip into his ears. It’s annoying, but he takes some comfort in the fact that it is annoying the other him, too. Since Ben pointed it out, the other him can’t seem to stop noticing the crying. He doesn’t like it. Vince doesn’t like the memory of his own hands trying to crush Ben’s windpipe while he screamed inside for them to stop, though, so they’re not nearly even.

His finger twitches. He doesn’t know if it was him that moved it or the other one. He hopes it was him. He hopes he’s somehow gaining control again. It probably wasn’t, but just in case, he starts mentally cataloging how he could make a weapon in the room. If he can just get control long enough, he can end this himself.

He is distracted from his work by someone tapping on the window. His eyes move, looking toward the glass without moving his head, and again, he doesn’t know which of them did it. It might have been him. It might have been him. He tries not to think about it yet. He focuses on holding on.

The person tapping at the window is someone he knows. He knows her, and he can guess why she’s here, but it’s hopeless, and he wishes she hadn’t come. He wishes he could say so. He feels like some kind of exhibit, trapped behind the glass, trapped within himself. The tears fall faster, obscuring his vision, and then they clear, just for a moment, just long enough for him to see the head of curls behind her.

He falters, his hold slips, and suddenly the other him has them on their feet. In his head, he weeps. In his head, he pleads with Ben to leave, to look away, to not see him like this. But the other him has the control, and he presses against the glass, close to the spot where Anja’s face lies on the other side. He bites his own tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and then opens his mouth wide and licks the glass, leaving a smear of redness on it.

“Anja,” he says, grinning with blood on his teeth, “and Benjamin. What a pleasure. Are you coming in?”

Anja remained motionless as Vincent greeted them both, Ben making a small noise of sadness when he saw Vince like this. His lion. Eager to hurt others and himself. He wanted to weep, to curl up and lament over his lost love. Ben couldn’t give up on him, though. He had to be strong for him and the others. But mostly for Vince. “How long has he been like this?” Anja finally said, her voice sonorous and calm. She’d been smoking something, however it didn’t smell like marijuana nor tobacco. It almost smelled of frankincense and burning coal--there was something else but Ben couldn’t quite decipher what type of herb it was. “A while. Can--can you do anything for him?” Ben murmured, trying to keep his eyes off Vince. “Can’t say for sure but that is why I’m here. To give it a shot.” 

“Do we need to sedate him?” Ben winced at the suggestion, he loathed sedating Vince but there was no other way. “Not necessary. Can you restrain him for a moment?” Anja lifted a brow and glanced over at Ben, who nodded slowly. “I can.” 

“Keep his face exposed, though.” She braced herself and took another drag of her rolled up concoction. Ben obeyed, swallowing down hard and made his way towards the entrance. Sliding a card key onto the lockpad and immediately restraining Vince’s arms and legs, making sure the force fields were soft but still had a strong hold on him. “I’m sorry, Vince.” He whispered. Anja merely set her bag down onto the floor. “What I’m about to have you inhale isn’t toxic, but it will keep you from using those abilities of yours on us during the rite, you will be fine.” She uttered and got dangerously close to Vince, inhaling the joint once more before quickly blowing the smoke into his face. 

xbureaucrat:

“Oh, mon chou,” Auguste whispered, his heart clenching. He had to swallow around a lump in his throat as he reached out and pulled Remy into a tight embrace. Ducking his head, he pressed a kiss to the soft hair at Remy’s temple. Remy had never spoken of what happened to him at the hands of the cultists, and Gus had never asked–it seemed too big a risk to take, asking. On the one hand, to know might be a relief. It would mean the end of wondering, the end of his brain taking the things he’d seen at work and mashing them all together to create the worst possible scenario. And it would mean that Remy wouldn’t have to bear the weight of the memories alone, which Gus wanted very badly, but–well. It would also mean knowing. It would mean hearing Remy talk about it, hearing his voice break as he cried, and he didn’t know how to be strong in the face of that.

“Come sit with me,” he whispered when Remy stopped talking, his voice a little thick. He made no attempt to move them towards the couch yet though. “I want–I want you tell me. Tell me what happened. You shouldn’t carry it alone anymore, minou. But first I want you to know… You have always been everything in my eyes. Even before. I’ve loved you since you walked into my office, Remy. And you are different now, I know, but mon amour–you have always been magical to me.”

Remy wiped away at his cheeks, sniffling. His heart feeling so full upon hearing those words. Gus was so good to him. He reached to take his hand into his, offering an affectionate squeeze. “I love you.” He murmured before going to take a seat on the couch, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to his chest. His hip pressed against Gus’, leaning against his beloved as he took a moment to take in several deep breaths. 

“That night...I think about it almost every night. I thought it was going to be an easy in then out job. Just---Just to get us some evidence. You remember that estate? I thought we’d get some concrete evidence on what was being done there. So your co-workers would stop being such skeptics.” He shook his head and sniffled once more, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and dabbing at his dripping nose. “I don’t know if I can do this. It makes me sick just thinking about it. The realization that...my former self died in that place. Alone, cold, and hurting. I was hoping it was just a dream and--you’d come to my rescue by waking me up with kisses and breakfast...” He trailed off and licked his lips. 

xbureaucrat:

Gus sighed, turning to look at Remy, expression soft and sad. He knew all Remy wanted was to keep him safe, but what Remy didn’t seem to understand was that he didn’t want to be kept. The work that Remy was doing now was the work that Gus had spent his whole life chasing, the sort of thing that his colleagues had mocked him for pursuing, and yet now it was here, and real, and he was being pushed out of it because Remy thought he was too fragile for it. And he could live with that, if it put Remy at ease, he really could–he could do his job in other ways, he supposed, if only Remy would remember him, waiting at home while he saved the world. 

Frowning, he got to his feet and crossed to the sink, coming close behind Remy and reaching around him to take his scrubbed red hands and still them. “Mon coeur,” he whispered, kissing Remy’s temple. “You were never a weak person. I am not saying you have to include me. I don’t–I don’t like it, but I understand. It’s only…” He sighed, pressing his forehead to Remy’s shoulder. “I know it is nothing, compared to what you went through, but when you were gone–when you were missing. Dead. You were dead, and it was my fault–I did not protect you. You were only human then, and I didn’t keep you safe. I lost you, and when you go–” He pulled away, frustrated again, raking a hand through his hair, voice tight with frustration. “When you won’t let me help, and you tell me you’ll be home, and then you are not, and I am not even worth a call–I live it all over again every time, Remy.”

“I understand.” He said quietly, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply. Gus was right. He shouldn’t just leave him in the dark anymore, Gus was capable. This was what he did for a living and here was Remy, trying to hold him back. “I won’t do that anymore. I want you to be a part of this. I--I want us to stop them. Together. I’m sorry, alright? Ever since the change, everything about me has felt different. The way I see myself, my confidence. I’m still adjusting to it all.” He murmured and turned to look at his beloved. “i just hate the thought of you getting caught by them. You’ve no idea what they will do...” He trailed off, swallowing down hard when the images flashed into his head. 

“I remember urinating myself that night, the assault, the torture. By the end of it, I just wanted to die because the pain was too much.” He murmured, voice wavering as he tried to hold back the sobs. 

xbureaucrat:

Gus sighed when Remy pushed him to talk, a long breath of air that seemed to deflate him, leaving him slumped over the table. “You could have called,” he said finally, which was only the tip of the iceberg. But as soon as he said it, the rest came out, too. “I am not a child, Remy. Have you forgotten how we met? You came to me for help, because of what I do. And now–” he waved a hand, making a wordless sound of annoyance. “Now you are always trying to ‘keep me out of it’. Now that you no longer need someone to do the fighting for you, I am of no use to you. I am not even fit to know whether or not you are okay when you don’t come home, like you say you are going to!” His voice raised just a little bit at the end, and then he sighed guiltily, dropping his head into his hands.

“If you must treat me like I am incapable, you could at least answer my messages and tell me you are alive. I worried for months thinking–thinking you were dead. I cannot do it every time you get absorbed in a mission that is too important for me, minou.”

“I--all I want is to keep you safe, Gus.” His voice was small, swallowing down hard and flinching when the other raised his voice a little. Mr. Noodle making a sound in his cage from the sudden noise. “It’s just...with these new abilities. I can finally do something about this. I’m not that...meek, teddy bear collecting weak person anymore. You know?!” 

He set down the drumstick and turned around to wash his hands, clenching his jaw. “I know I came to you for help...I still need your help, I just--” He murmured and scrubbed at his hands and stopping the water once his hands were red and raw. A moment of silence of ensued as he tried to speak without letting out a sob. “You are too important for me to lose. i do not want them doing the same thing they’ve done to me. No one deserves to go through such pain and torture.” He said quietly, his voice breaking.