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slippinmickeys · 3 years

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Five Seconds (4/8)

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June 4, 2018

Mulder stood in the kitchen wearing only sweatpants, the rented house quiet around him. Scully had headed to the local Meijer for supplies of every stripe, and both kids had leapt at the chance to go with her, a rare occurrence the last few years, but a clear result of forced low profile and cabin fever.

He was nursing a rare cup of caffeinated coffee and watching a black squirrel make a nuisance of itself on the residence’s sole backyard bird feeder. When his new cell phone rang, he answered it out of muscle memory.

“Hello?”

“Hello Fox,” said the person on the other end of the line, “aren’t you a sound for sore ears.”

It took him a moment to place the voice.

“Lauren,” he said after a moment, smiling into the receiver, “it’s good to hear from you, too. I take it you got the information I sent you?”

Mulder had had Frohike send her their contact information as they’d previously agreed, and he assumed this was the first of her planned unplanned check-ins.

“It was a little cloak and dagger, even for the District,” she said, and Mulder could hear her smile over the line.

“And I always thought you lived for the drama,” he said companionably.

“Well, I got to wear my best Carmen SanDiego hat, so I guess I can’t be mad.”

Mulder chuckled into the receiver.

“How’s it going?” Lauren asked, her tone shifting to one of sober inquiry.

“It’s going.”

“Dana okay?” her question was sincere, and Mulder marveled how time could change a person.

“She’s good,” he said, “healthy. All systems go. I’m sure she’d want me to send you her best.”

“And the kids? How are they handling it all?”

Mulder sighed.

Will was adjusting, but Lily was miserable. Lonely and bored, unable to talk to friends back home and without the specter and excitement of starting school in the fall. She’d even begged to be able to get a summer job, even as just a waitress at the local Bennigan’s, but Mulder didn’t like the idea of her being away from the house for hours at a time, and Scully wasn’t sold on their borrowed Social Security numbers passing an employment check.

“The kids are… okay.”

“Going that well, huh?” she asked.

“Lil is pretty miserable,” he admitted.

“Of course she’s miserable,” Lauren scolded him, “she’s 18 years old and stuck in a house with her well-meaning parents. She should be at the beach with friends getting day drunk on Bud Light-”

“-she would never-” Mulder interrupted, to which Lauren outright laughed in his ear.

“-I assure you, she already has!”

Mulder sighed again. “Aside from dropping her off at the lake and buying her a rack of shit beer, you got any ideas?”

“College boys in tight pants,” Lauren said.

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, taken aback.

“Take the family to a football game Fox, you’re in a Big Ten town for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not football season yet.”

“Just take her somewhere with a lot of people. And give her a little bit of freedom. And when it is football season?”

“Yeah?” Mulder asked.

“Take her to see the tight pants.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

September 3, 2018

It had been months and they started to relax, maybe a bit too much. They were alert, but comfortable. Maybe complacent, Mulder couldn't tell. All he knew was that if he kept the kids in the house for much longer, they'd kill each other and possibly him and Scully in the crossfire, and it would defeat the whole purpose of their hiding out. That said, all was quiet on the homefront -- Darlene and the Gunmen, and to a lesser extent, Doggett, Reyes and Skinner -- had heard nothing with their ears to the ground.

He and Scully had discussed it, and decided that they would let the kids out of the house. They allowed them to socialize occasionally, if they promised to be careful. Will had made a couple of friends around the neighborhood, playing roller hockey in their cul de sac, but Lily hadn't had as much luck, or as much motivation. She had been quiet and keeping mostly to herself, and come September, Mulder had decided to finally take Lauren's advice. They were going to a football game.

William was beside himself with excitement which made up for Lily's lack of enthusiasm. Scully had opted out of attending, citing her increasing need of accessible bathrooms and the inevitable long lines at ladies rooms in sports arenas.

They took the bus to the edge of the MSU campus -- the first time any of them had been on it since moving to the town several months before. There were people everywhere -- most dressed in the hometown colors of green and white, but a rare few -- looking as lost on campus as the Mulders themselves -- in the brown and gold of the visiting team.

Mulder had ducked into the student union to get a campus map, whereupon William insisted he buy all three of them something supporting the hometown team. Lily opted out, but William and Mulder walked out each in a brand new ball cap, the brims stiff and flat -- in addition, William was carrying a big foam finger emblazoned with the number 1 and the gruff face of Michigan State's Spartan mascot, Sparty.

"It's this way," Mulder said, consulting his map and pointing south, and they set off following streams of people headed toward the stadium which sat in the middle of campus.

The day was delightfully mild, and while the sun shone, there were fat clouds everywhere that would cover it as soon as you were at risk of overheating. There seemed to be tailgate parties set up at increasing concentrations the closer they got to the stadium, the air thick with the scent of grilling meat and tinny stereos playing the home school's fight song.

There were frat boys throwing a football back and forth every thirty or so feet, and crowds of coeds sipping beer from green Solo cups, hovering around games of corn hole and beer pong, laughing while they clung to each other like the last few Cheerios floating in a bowl of milk.

Mulder stole a glance at Lily, who looked at them wistfully. School had just started here at Michigan State and the week before at UVA, and Mulder could tell his daughter was fairly heartbroken about not being able to attend.

Mulder pulled up short and Lily and William both stopped several steps past him and turned to look at him expectantly.

"One sec," he said and walked over to a large tent wherein an alumni organization was selling hot dogs and brats to raise funds. He bought three bratwurst and a couple of sodas and walked them back to his kids, hands full and pockets overflowing with napkins and little packets of ketchup and mustard.

He nodded toward a low stone wall that ran along the length of one of the sidewalks and they all sat down and ate sloppily, ketchup plopping to the sidewalk that they leaned over so as not to spill on their clothes. William was of course done first and snapped open his soda, slurping from it happily.

"They call it pop here," he said, raising his can and giving his father a cheeky smirk.

"No one cares, Billy," Lily said, wiping her lips delicately with a napkin and setting the last quarter of the brat on the wall beside her. "I'm stuffed," she declared.

Will happily scarfed the rest of her sausage and Mulder was about to suggest they start moving again toward the stadium when a frisbee glided through the air and scuffed to the ground at their feet. Lily jumped off the wall and picked it up, looking around to find its owner, who was trotting toward them in droopy cargo shorts and an overlarge school shirt that said "I BLEED GREEN."

Mulder shook his head as Lily pulled back and winged it back toward the guy, sailing it in a perfect arc into his waiting hands.

The kid smiled at her, teeth and all.

"Nice arm!" the kid said, giving her one more charming look before trotting back toward his friends who were waiting further across the Diag that cut through the center of campus.

Mulder glanced at Lily who was wearing a small but fading smile.

He stood, balling up the napkin and sausage detritus. He turned to Lily impulsively.

"You want a beer?" he asked her.

She almost blanched and gave him a queer look.

"A beer?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "you're a college kid now, no reason you shouldn't enjoy a cold one before a football game like all these other coeds."

Lily gave him a suspicious look just as Will piped up, "I want a beer."

"No," Mulder said, cutting off any complaints with a sharp look and then he walked over to a fraternity tent and talked for a moment to the kid that was manning the keg. After a few words, he handed over a few bills of cash and returned to his kids, handing Lily a dripping plastic cup.

He took a sip of his own cup and inclined his head at his daughter.

"Not the best," he said, while she took a tentative sip.

She smiled over the rim of the cup but kept her eyes on the ground.

"Tastes like college," she said, and Mulder couldn't help but smile.

XxX

"Hey Frisbee," Lily heard from several feet to her right.

She stood up from the drinking fountain in a nook of the stadium in between lavatories, and used her wrist to wipe her mouth dry.

The guy who lost his frisbee at her feet while they were eating before the game was standing only yards away, a small cocksure smile on his lips. Lily tilted her head at him.

"I thought that was you," he went on.

She nodded awkwardly and stepped away from the drinking fountain so the person behind her could drink.

"I think you're in the wrong stadium," he said, and when she looked at him in confusion, he smiled kindly and pointed at her shirt.

She'd donned a UVA sweatshirt for the game out of a sense of loyalty or rebellion (she wasn't sure which, if she were being honest) and she only realized when they stepped onto campus how much it actually made her stand out.

"This isn't the UVA game?" she said mock seriously, "God, I took a left heading into Charlottesville and I guess I should have taken a right." The comment earned her a chuckle and a genuine smile. "Guess the extra ten hours in the car should have been my first clue."

The guy took a few steps toward her and held out his hand.

"Travis," he said by way of introduction, and she shook his hand politely. It was warm in hers, and his grip was firm but brief.

"Lillian," Lily said, almost forgetting to introduce herself with her cover name.

"That's pretty," Travis said, and Lily could feel herself blushing, feeling awkward that it wasn't really her name. "So you go to UVA?"

She nodded. "Deferred for a semester while my folks moved here." Her father had told her to stick as close as she could to their actual stories when telling people their covers in order to keep it all straight.

"Cool," said Travis. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"I should get back to my seat," she said, "halftime's almost over."

People were streaming back into the seating areas, and she could hear the marching band keeping tempo as they marched off the field.

Travis shoved his hands into his pockets and for a moment looked slightly bashful.

"Yeah," he said, turning away and taking a few steps, before turning back. "Hey, you want to hang out sometime?"

Lily thought to herself that just about anything sounded better than having to spend one more night at home playing Hearts at the dining room table.

"Sure," she said, and Travis pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She put in the number of the phone that Darlene had given her and felt only a little weird entering "Lillian" in the name box.

When she handed Travis back the phone, he used his other hand to lightly touch her arm.

"Hey, it was nice meeting you," he said.

"You too," she smiled and wandered back to her seat, trying very hard to keep a smile off her face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So..." Scully started, not sure how to broach the subject, other than just to spit it out, "Lily wants to know if she can go 'hang out with a guy.'"

She was sitting at the dining room table sipping on an iced tea, the dew of condensation slippery and cold on her fingertips. She was feeling pendulous and heavy, the high of the second trimester given way to the rolling agony of the third. Her husband, as she had suspected he would, looked suddenly aghast.

"She... what?"

"She got asked out, Mulder, and would like to know if it was okay with us if she went."

William came breezing through the kitchen then, opening up the fridge door and hanging in front of it, blankly staring at its contents, unimpressed.

"Pick something or don't, Will," Mulder said testily to his current youngest, "but please stop letting all the cold out of the fridge."

Will grabbed a soda and stood while the fridge door closed on its own behind him.

"That's Billy to you," he said, mocking insult, and made his way slowly out of the kitchen, staring at Mulder who affectionately reached out as he passed and messed his red curls into an orange soda froth on the top of his head.

"You need a haircut," Mulder said, and Will lifted his nose, shaking his hair out with dignified hauteur.

"So do you," the boy said and left the room.

Scully chuckled. "Don't take it out on him," she said.

Mulder shook himself and turned back to her.

"Take what out on him?"

"That your daughter is growing up and you're not ready. You look like you did the night she went to prom with Derek Smead."

Mulder looked completely affronted.

"He didn't even come to the house! He just had the limo honk and she ran out the door. You didn't get any pictures! Who does that? No self-respecting gentleman. I honestly still don't believe he's a real person."

Scully chuckled again. "And she left him at the dance after an hour and took the limo with five friends to the Sonic drive-in. She's got a good head on her shoulders, Mulder."

"I know she does."

"So what do you think? Is it safe to let her date?"

"I don't like it."

"I didn't ask if you liked it. I asked if you thought it was safe."

Mulder blew out a raspberry. Scully knew that he was thinking the same thing she was -- they'd let Will hang out with a few new friends so long as he was careful. Lily arguably had more common sense by nature of her age (and her gender, thought Scully). She would take precautions and employ the minimal tradecraft Mulder and Scully had taught her.

"What do you think?" Mulder asked her.

"I think she's 18 years old and we're lucky she even ran it by us. If she were away at school, she'd be making these decisions for herself."

Mulder's shoulders slumped.

"As long as she's careful," he finally said.

"I'll give her some condoms," Scully muttered, an offhand remark.

"Scully!" Mulder blanched.

"I just wanted to see the look on your face," Scully laughed.

Mulder shook his head and turned to walk out of the room.

Scully was still chuckling minutes later.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey Frisbee," said a voice from behind her.

Lily turned to see Travis standing several feet away in the middle of the footbridge. He was wearing black flip flops, a pair of long khaki shorts and a navy blue polo shirt. His hair -- dark tousled waves, cut short but shaggy -- was poking in all directions out of a university ball cap, which, she was relieved to see, was pristinely white without a yellowing band of sweat or scuzz. His face looked freshly shaved and he was smiling.

"Hey yourself," she said, and took a step toward him.

He reached into his pocket as she approached and pulled out a ziplock sandwich bag, filled with a gritty grey substance. She took it with some hesitation.

"Is this... a bag of oatmeal?" she asked.

He colored and put both hands up.

"Okay, so: I was going to bring your flowers, but then I thought you know what would be cute? Flour . So I went to our pantry and I'm looking at this giant bag of flour and I'm like what the hell is she going to do with a giant bag of flour? And then I saw the oatmeal and thought -- well, we're meeting on the footbridge, we could feed the ducks! ...So I brought you oatmeal. Bread is bad for ducks."

Despite the lengthy diatribe, Lily laughed. "It was nice of you to think of the ducks," she said.

"Well," he said, and walked with her to the railing of the footbridge, which crossed the Red Cedar River. "The bag itself is multipurpose. If you think it'd be fun, I thought we could rent a canoe later and go down the river?"

"What does that have to do with the bag?" she asked, leaning over the railing and looking down into the tannin-tinted water. A cluster of ducks, trained to anticipate food, swam quickly toward them.

"We can put our phones in it," he said, leaning into her shoulder a little. "I myself have been through the gauntlet of canoe training at Camp Quitcherbitchin as a young lad, but you're an unknown quantity, Frisbee. What if you dunk us? I aim to save our electronics."

Lily laughed again, charmed despite herself. She opened the baggie and threw a handful of oats to the waiting ducks below, which scurried as fast as they could swim for the feast. Lily offered Travis some, and he took a handful and cast it out. They fed the ducks for a minute or so of comfortable silence.

Finally, Lily asked: "Camp Quitcherbitchin?"

Travis smiled.

"Sleep-away summer camp up north. I went every year. It's actually called Camp Nageesh, but some of the counselors were somewhat less than tolerant of complaints, so the campers called it Quitcherbitchin.”

Lily chuckled. "Canoes, huh?"

"Plus sailboats, swimming and archery. I refuse to divulge which I have a higher level of competency in, in case you're some kind of polymath with a competitive bent."

"You aren't one of those guys who can't stand it when a girl is better than you at something, are you?" Lily asked.

“Are you a polymath with a competitive bent?” Travis grabbed another handful of oatmeal and threw it toward a mother with a brood of ducklings that were having trouble getting into the mix.

“I’ve got some game,” Lily said, arching an eyebrow that would have made her mother proud.

"In that case," he said, turning toward her. His eyes were a mossy green, like her father's. He gave her a small smile, “I look forward to being outmatched."

"Well," said Lily, intrigued. She scattered out the last bit of oatmeal and, blowing some of the grit from the bag, put her phone into it and handed it to Travis for him to do the same. "Let's see what you're made of, Paddles."

XxX

"We seem to be drifting a bit to starboard," Lily called over her shoulder. Travis had taken the backseat ("Do you mind if I steer?" he'd asked). They'd managed to board and push off okay -- the bored-looking livery attendant having given them minimal instruction, but held the craft as they both lifted themselves gingerly aboard.

"I'm aware of that," said Travis, his voice a little tense for the first time.

"You said you were steering," she teased him. They were rapidly making for the opposite shore of the river, the canoe swinging sideways with the current.

"I'm aware of that too," he said back, and then a moment later, she felt the canoe sway radically, followed by a splash. She grabbed the side of the craft for dear life and then swung her head to look behind her. Travis had jumped out of the canoe and was now holding it by the triangle at the stern with one hand, paddle in the other; halting their momentum, which had been about to take them into a bramble of cedar branches hanging low over the water.

"Oh my god!" Lily squeaked. "Are you okay? Did you fall?"

"I jumped," Travis said, "If you headed home with a rat's nest of cedar sprays in your hair, you might not go out with me again."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Lily said, setting her oar down on the bottom of the canoe.

"Will you go out with me again?" Travis said hopefully, and the smile he flashed her made her want to say yes, but instead she teased:

"Too early to make that call."

"This water is really cold, Lillian," he said, and turned, pulling the canoe behind him into the water upstream and back toward the livery.

"It looks it," Lily said. "If I do go out with you again, let's stick with something land-based, huh?"

Travis threw a grin at her and kept trudging, clearly trying his best to keep the craft steady so she didn't fall in herself. She checked her pockets briefly for their phones, which she'd offered to hold on to, and watched him. The river was relatively shallow -- he was a tall guy and the water was only soaking the cuff of his shorts.

"Your parents should call Camp Quitcherbitchin and get their money back, Travis," she said, canting her face up to the sun and closing her eyes briefly. She shrieked when the canoe suddenly lurched to one side. She grabbed the side and looked at her date, who had stopped and was wearing a mischievous grin. He was still wearing the dorky orange life jacket that they'd been required to don, and the whole situation made Lily start laughing.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," Travis said, turning again to continue the trudge back to base. "I'll have you know that I learned how to canoe on a lake. I forgot to account for one variable."

"The current?" Lily asked.

"The current," he admitted.

They made it back to shore and he helped her out of the canoe, explaining to the still benumbed livery worker that they wouldn't be back, but still throwing a soggy five dollar bill in the tip jar. After retrieving his flip flops from the bottom of the small boat, he offered to take Lily to the campus Dairy Store for ice cream.

"Your campus has a Dairy Store?" she asked him curiously.

"This is Moo U, Lillian," he explained, steering her a few blocks from the river to a large brick building beyond the main engineering hall. "This street is Farm Lane. We have cattle."

Once inside they reviewed the offerings, and Lily noticed that they had a flavor for every university in the Big Ten conference -- even their arch rivals. About which he announced, "I'll buy you anything but the Maize & Blueberry. I like you, but even I have my limits."

Once they had their cones (she with Boilermaker Brownie and he with Hoosier Daddy ("basically strawberry," he explained)), they settled onto a picnic table in the shade.

"So," Travis said, licking a drop that had melted onto his knuckle, "why'd you end up deferring this semester?"

Lily swallowed the bite in her mouth without chewing. They had prepared cover stories but she hadn't yet needed to use hers. Stick with the truth as much as you can , said her father's voice.

"My dad got a job here and my mom is pregnant. She was on bedrest for a while and needed help."

Travis was looking at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn't -- continuing to nervously lick her cone. After a long moment of waiting, he kindly plowed ahead, asking her about her major and telling her about his. He was a sophomore, from a town in the northern part of the state, and she found him inherently easy to talk to and interesting, and wondered, idly, if that was because he really was interesting or if she were just starved for company and attention.

When they finished up, they threw away their napkins in a nearby trash can and stood looking at each other, only a little awkwardly.

“So... “ Travis started, “still too early to make the call?”

She smiled, remembering what she’d told him in the canoe about going out with him again. “I like your chances.”

He smiled back and she felt a little thrill. “Lillian, will you go out with me again?” he asked.

“Dry land stuff?”

“The driest.”

“In that case, yes.”

She was still feeling the soft kiss he'd given her cheek hours later as she sat around the dining room table, fielding invasive questions from her father and trying to avoid her mother’s eye.

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #X-Files #Fanfic #My fic

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader 10]

Wordcount: 5,809 Rating: T for strong language and mild violence “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!” Chapter synopsis: Half-dead, Allen falls into a strange realm of existence. It's nothing he's seen before, but it feels awfully familiar. He soon learns he's stuck in the past, and it's all in his head. He'll do whatever it takes to wake up and save Alfred from his demise he once played a part in. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): 2049, Ghost in the shell - Original mix, Something about us, Cloudy day, L, The voice in my head. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

2049, Ghost in the Shell - Original mix

“His condition is stable. He’s in a coma, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“A coma? For how long?”

Where were the voices coming from? Was there one person or two people speaking? He couldn’t tell. But his interest quickly changed to another subject.

Am I dead?

With whatever brain activity he had left, that question was the only thing he heard repeating in his head like a broken record.

He couldn’t see anything, let alone feel anything as he drifted into an abyss of nothingness. In fact, it was so empty, he couldn’t even say it was darkness he was engulfed in. Just nothingness. Was this what people experienced before walking over to the other side? Or was he going to be stuck here forever? Allen couldn’t tell. Not when there was no concept of time in this strange realm of existence, anyway.

His eyes shot open. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but he came to realize he was sitting in his car. Huh. Was that all a dream? Whatever it was, it had escaped his mind so seamlessly, he couldn’t remember anything. Leaning forward to peer out the window, he was greeted with an onslaught of neon lights. Neon signs, holograms, and posters surrounded him from all angles and heights. At least that told him he wasn’t far from home. Turning to the front, he attached his hands to the wheel. Now, to get back.

If he drove around for a few minutes, he’d surely pinpoint his location relative to Arthur’s auto shop. Revving up the engine, he heard it purr to life. As a small grin stretched over his lips, he pulled out of the cul-de-sac to move to the main street. “I missed you too.” He murmured, never letting his gaze stray from the road. Eventually, he made it to a familiar intersection. Before he could pass through it, he stopped and found himself staring at what looked like a police chase coming to an end.

A helicopter hovered over a car stopped in the center. Over the fierce thumping of its blades, he heard a grungy voice barking out orders through a loudspeaker. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it didn’t look like they were followed. Not when the occupants in the vehicle were immediately shot upon stepping out–collapsing to the ground after a rain of machine gunfire blew them apart.

“Jesus Christ…” He mumbled under a frown. “Poor bastards.”

After they all dropped like flies, the helicopter took off in another direction. And just like that, they were gone.

The police in Twilight city were ruthless as always. Quick to action, and yet, just as dismissive. But it wasn’t his business. So long as he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to deal with them. Making a right turn, he breathed out a sigh as he made a detour. He never liked using alleyways. There was no saying if he’d run into a couple of weirdos in places like these. Speaking of weirdos, there was a couple of men huddling around a corner. It piqued his curiosity to see them so interested in whatever it was they surrounded. Or more accurately put, who they surrounded. A girl. Slowing to a stop behind a tall bundle of crates, he leaned over to the right to get a better look. She was shaking in her boots, and her lips were trembling as she struggled to respond to the questions thrown at her. And how old was she anyway? 10? 11?

“That doesn’t look good.” Allen narrowed his eyes.

He climbed out of his car.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, he approached the group slowly. But when one of the men took a hold of her shoulder, adrenaline surged through his veins and he burst into a sprint. When he got close enough, he grabbed said man’s shoulder before throwing his fist back. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Punching him square in the face, he sent him hurtling towards the ground.

Immediately, his cronies responded by pouncing on the newcomer for giving one of their buddies a black eye. After a few minutes of violent tousling, he managed to beat them all into submission.

Leaving them groaning and wincing in the dirt, he gave his hand a rough shake. Phew. He hadn’t had a good fight in ages. Giving his bottom lip a light tap to find a small blotch of red on his fingertip. And he won against three people too, escaping with only a busted lip. Before he could gloat about it, he glanced around to find the girl. Where did she go?

Assuming she ran away, he shrugged and moved back to his car. If she wasn’t here, then he wouldn’t be obliged to help her any more than that. But upon nearing his vehicle, he spotted a small pair of feet poking out from the back. Then, they proceeded to shuffle back to become completely concealed. Breathing out a chuckle at that, he rested his hands on his hips.

“I can see you.”

No response.

“You can come out now.” Making his way around the trunk, the child buried her face into her knees upon realizing she had been discovered. A light frown downturned his features at the sight of her shaking like a leaf. “Man, am I that scary?” He murmured, lowering himself to his knees. “Hey, kid. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just passing by. I promise I won’t do anything.”

She kept her face hidden, but her trembling seemed to calm.

“Well, if you’re not gonna say anything, I’ll be on my way. Just make sure to move out of the way so I don’t run you over.” Standing up on his feet, he turned his back to her. Before his fingers could do so little as graze over the car handles, a faint voice piped up.

“Wait!”

Allen grinned and spun on his heel. “Yes?”

She stood up slowly, but kept her head low to avoid his gaze. Without removing her hands from her pants, which she was clenching at, she opened her mouth again. “Could you maybe… Tell me where the train station is? I got kinda lost.” The way she spoke was soft, breathless even, and more so than Allen’s who just beat up a bunch of no-good-doers.

“The train station?” The redhead questioned. Not that he didn’t know where it was. In fact, it was only a few blocks down, but he had to think twice about sending a ten-year-old off to wander the streets around here. The same streets a police shootout just took place, and the same streets where she was approached by a couple of hooligans. “How about I drop you off? I’m not in a hurry. I dunno if you wanna walk around by yourself after what happened.”

He said it before, and he’d say it again. This city was an absolute shithole.

“R-really? But I’m not sure…” The enthusiasm faded as quickly as she lit up. “I don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you either.” Allen hummed. “So you’re just as dangerous to me as I am to you. Sound fair?”

The girl furrowed her brows.

“That doesn’t make sense. You’re way older than me.”

“Oh yeah? I’m only eighteen though. Lemme guess, ten? Twelve?”

“Thirteen.” She answered, relaxing just a touch at the sound of his age. At first glance, one would have assumed he was in his early twenties, but she was relieved to know she was wrong. “Are you still in high school?”

The man blinked. Was she warming up already? “Nope. I finished nearly a year ago. But that doesn’t mean I sit around all day with nothing to do.” He opened the car door to the driver’s seat. “You’re lucky I was out and about to get your ass out of trouble. So what do you say we keep it that way?”

The ride there didn’t take long, much to Allen’s surprise. By the time his GPS revealed that they had arrived, he had slowed down near the curb in front of one of the tallest skyscrapers in Twilight city. Sliding the window down, he poked his head out to give his surroundings a gander. The blinding lights of the liveliest commercial center forced him to squint, but he could still tell this was the city center. And that only meant the residential lots were a little further down.

“You sure this is the right address? There’s nothing but malls and stuff around here.” He shouted over the bustle of people crossing the streets and pounding of music.

“No, this it the right place. I live right there in that building!” Climbing over to the side, she pointed at Matsumoto Optics.

Exchanging glances with the said building, then the girl, he gave his head a light shake. “What do you mean, you live right there? Nobody–” He paused, feeling dread settle in his stomach. “Wait a sec. What was your name again, kid?”

“(F/N) Matsumoto. My dad actually owns the whole plaza.”

He paled.

“Holy shit.”

Why did it feel like a gun was pointing at him?

Because there was one.

Whipping his head to the window next to him, he found himself staring straight down the barrel of a gun. While his heart broke out into a pounding frenzy, he came to notice that his whole car was surrounded by men in suits. Bringing out every kind of shootable weapon that existed, his blood ran cold at the sound of more than twenty firearms cocking at once. From every angle there was, he was aimed at by something. “Fuck.”

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the men demanded.

Allen threw his arms up. “Alright, alright!”

Glass shattered. A hand shot through the broken window and hit him in the back of the neck, hard. “Gh-!” It knocked him out immediately. Then, his unconscious body was dragged out of the car with next to no grace.

So much for following orders.

When he finally came to, all he knew was the throbbing pain in his neck, and the rope burns around his arms and wrists. Since they were tightly bound together, he could only blink away the fuzz in his vision. This day had to be the longest yet. All he remembered was waking up in his car completely disoriented, then saving a middle-schooler from a bunch of creeps. Where was this place? An office of some sort? How did he wind up here again? All he could do was speculate as he continued to kneel on the carpeted ground.

“My daughter told me you saved her from a group of ruffians.” A low voice began, forcing him to look up. My daughter? Did that mean he was Matsumoto? The Takahiro Matsumoto? The most powerful person on the planet? The person whose name he heard every minute of the day from slogans? His suspicions were confirmed when he found himself gawking at a beast of a man, who stood a little over six feet with a long gray beard.

Wait a minute, this guy was old? And this… Built? “If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have woken up.”

Allen tensed.

“… Right. Well, I’m sorry for whatever I did. I didn’t know she was… A Matsumoto.” He breathed. “If I did, I would’ve let her ride the train herself. Didn’t think putting her in my car warranted a death sentence.”

“But you are alive, boy. And she is too, thanks to you.” The older man graciously responded, giving his head a firm pat. Then, he lowered his gaze to meet the other’s eyes. “I see an unwavering sense of justice from you. There were three men you had to fend off to keep her safe, and you only managed to let them hit you once.”

“…”

“You have talent.”

“… Thanks.”

“If you haven’t noticed already, I want to recruit you.”

The redhead had to do a double-take. Were his ears playing tricks on him, or did he actually say–

“You wanna… Hire me?”

Matsumoto nodded. “Like I just said. You have the skills to be a bodyguard, and we are in urgent need of one.” An ominous light glinted in his dark eyes as he opened his mouth again. “Did you ever wonder why there was a job opening?”

Allen gave a nervous laugh. On second thoughts, maybe laying low in Arthur’s auto shop was the better option. “Thanks, but no thanks. I was just lucky today, and I’m not a pro. I think you’re better off hiring somebody else–”

The other hardened his stare at him. “We have an elaborate training program to prepare you for your duties. I see no reason for you to reject.” With a swift flick of his wrist, he beckoned over a few men who had been standing on the sidelines. “These gentlemen weren’t half as good as you when they began. Now, they are the best any secret service has to offer. Their combat skills are impeccable, and their instincts refined to perfection.”

When he sensed he had fallen right into a trap, he wasn’t wrong.

“I wouldn’t imagine it to be hard for them to locate anybody residing in this city. Even your friend, Arthur, the British mechanic.”

Seeing that Allen was now at loss for words, he smiled.

“I believe it would be in your best interest to work for me, Jekyll.”

That same day he was recruited, his induction took place. And boy, was it a lot. By the time they had finished, night had fallen. Fortunately, he could treat himself to a hot dinner in the dining court before retiring to his room. He couldn’t say being given his own condo was unexpected, but when he stepped inside to become completely immersed in luxury, he was faced with a rude awakening. Up here where the air stretched thin over the blinking lights of Twilight city, he was reminded how out of place he was.

All his life, he was at the bottom. He grew up a street rat before he was taken in by a kind mechanic. And he taught him everything he knew. Never did he imagine he would ever be this high up in the clouds, working in a high-ranking position under a man comparable to God. And the longer he lingered on this reality, thrusted to him without his say, the hotter his eyes felt. There was no saying if he could go home again.

And that meant he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur anytime soon.

The next morning, he woke up the groggiest he’d ever felt in his life. Squinting at the window that happened to take up his whole wall, he was graced with a hot orange sunrise. It cast a pinkish haze over everything in his sight like a filter, but he was far too exhausted to appreciate the scenery. He checked his phone. 6:23 AM. Twenty missed calls and twelve text messages. Crap. He’d call him later. He needed to figure himself out first.

Giving his face a cold splash of water, he rubbed his eyes clean. Lifting his head to the mirror, he found himself staring at his reflection, which of course, stared right back. Did he always look this young? He snorted. What was he thinking? Of course he did. He was only eighteen, after all. Sliding himself in a dress shirt and pants, he finished off the look by throwing on a black blazer. Then, he gave his appearance a hard stare. “… Nope. This looks stupid.” Leaving the bathroom in a white tank and bomber jacket, he ventured out into empty morning halls to find the elevator.

Once he made it to the third floor, he began his journey to the training dojo. The walls were a beige white, the floors a polished wood, and there were shoji screens everywhere. He was washed over with a strange sense of déjà vu. But considering this was his first time here, that couldn’t be the right phrase. Jamais vu was more like it. He was here with the impression he’d never been before, but he somehow knew that was a lie.

And it was a gut feeling so strong, it was kind of eerie.

He couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. And not being the thinking type, he chose to brush it off. He had enough to worry about already, so the last thing he wanted was to overthink a foreign environment. Maybe some exercise could clear his head— and that was exactly what he’d be doing today. His rigorous training program.

Entering a spacious room, he stepped inside to feel his shoes sink into soft tatami mats.

“Don’t even think about taking another step in here with those shoes on, Jekyll.”

A very rigorous training program.

***

Something about us, L

It had only been a few days since arriving here at Arthur’s, but you were slowly regaining your strength. With every new morning, you awakened with more energy than the last. Perhaps the small light of hope of seeing Allen do the same was what urged you to become an early riser. But like yesterday, and the day before, that hope was shattered at the sight of him unconscious in bed. He didn’t even move an inch.

Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees and reached out to his cheek. Talking to him while he slept had become routine to you. You’d tell him about your day, everything you did, and all your conversations you ever had. If not, you’d reminisce the past so he wouldn’t feel left out. He never interrupted, and let you run off on tangents until you were sick of talking. “I really hope you wake up soon, Allen. I feel like… I’m talking to myself here.” Your voice was soft with a heart-wrenching kind of sadness, but you refused to linger on it.

After all, how could you expect him to wake so soon? You knew how strong he was, but it would be selfish to want something impossible. So you forced yourself to leave the room, figuring you would feel better if you focused on something else. Little did you know, someone had been lurking in the halls during your visit.

Alfred had his back pressed up to the wall outside while you dropped by, and he heard everything. And not even from just this morning. Everything you ever told Allen, he listened in on too.

He knew better than to infringe on your privacy, and hear things that were better off left unheard. But he kept finding himself hiding outside in the hall, doing it again and again—even Arthur had caught wind of it.

He heard footsteps clunking against the metal floor, but he never bothered to turn to it. Usually, Arthur would’ve kept on walking. But not today he didn’t. “If you like her so much, you should just tell her.” He’d murmur.

Alfred whipped his head to him with his eyes widened ever so slightly. But he visibly eased seeing it was just him. And rather than denying his claims, he tore his gaze away. “I can’t.” His brows were furrowed for creases to form between them. Arthur was almost taken aback, having never seen him so frustrated.

“Why not?” The Brit responded, resting his back against the wall beside the man. “It’s painful seeing you loiter out here all day. I’d say I felt sorry for you, but you’ve been eavesdropping on her for a while.” At the sound of that, the other’s cheeks flushed red. So his guess was right on the mark, after all. “She’s coming out right now. Might wanna make a run for it while you still can.”

“Guys?” Another voice joined, forcing the two men to spin around.

The mechanic bit back a snort. “Too late. I’ll be in the garage.” He whispered. Shooting you a brief smile, he turned on his heels to leave. “You two have fun now. I have lots of work to do today.” With that said, he disappeared to do exactly that, but not without a few chuckles under his breath. For the many years he knew the guy, he never found anything he wasn’t good at. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Alfred with a hand on his neck, laughing nervously.

That perfect track record was finally ending, it seemed.

At least he wouldn’t have to watch him fumble around with his feelings for long. You and Alfred were planning to leave in a few days to God knows where, to do God knows what. Frankly speaking, he didn’t know what you were doing, hanging around such a shady guy like him. That was right. You two arrived with your bodyguard Allen, who was half-dead then, and barely clinging to life now. What the hell happened? Wouldn’t your father be concerned?

Maybe he’d ask Allen himself, if he’d awaken anytime soon, that was. For now, he’d stay on the sidelines and help Alfred repair his missing Mantis blades as he’d requested. He was restless without them, frequently interrupting his work with, “Are you done yet?” until he finished for the day. Arthur narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, shutting the garage door behind him. Whatever you two had planned, he couldn’t imagine it to be legal.

***

Cloudy day

A few months had gone by, and he was finally getting settled in his new workplace. But there was no saying when he’d ever be forgiven for it. Not that he could even explain himself. What was he even supposed to say? I saved a girl from a bunch of creeps and put her in my car to take her home but she wasn’t just any girl and turned out to be the daughter of Matsumoto himself and now I’m being threatened to work for them because they know where you live. That surely wouldn’t fly. Especially when he went through all that just to be a glorified babysitter.

He just knew Arthur was buried up to the neck with work, now that he was alone. Breathing out a sigh at the thought, he rolled his head to the said girl sitting by a cherry wood coffee table, whose nose was buried in a book.

“You ever get bored reading stuff all day?” He began, stretching his arms across the backrest of the couch.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. But I have to study, otherwise I’ll fall behind.”

Allen nodded, stretching his lips into a flat line. “Fair enough. Well, I did just graduate high school, so if you need any help with… Math or whatever, just let me know.” Surely, seventh-grade level wouldn’t be too difficult for him.

“Mm… Thanks, but I don’t think you can help me with what I’m doing. This is like… College level stuff.” You gave him a sheepish smile, to where he gawked at you in response.

“Wow, you a genius or something?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You’re just being humble, kid. It’s fine to be proud of yourself, ya know. ‘Specially now, cuz it gets kinda annoying when adults do it.” Allen grinned, hopping up from his spot to give her hair a ruffle. She could only hang her head to hide the embarrassed pout on her lips. Fortunately, their height difference let her do so.

“Thanks, I guess…” It was only when he pulled his hand away did she look up again. In her line of vision was a chest of drawers, and she reached out to point towards it. “Also, could you mind checking if my USB’s in there? I think I left it in one of the drawers yesterday.”

The redhead spun around. “Sure, no prob.”

Pulling out one of the compartments, he rummaged around random bits and bobs until he caught sight of said USB. Besides the connecter, the storage disk was fairly long and flat. This thing could’ve stored hundreds of terabytes of data if it could. That translated to hundreds of computers’ worth of information. Picking it up, he held it in his fingers to give it a brief study. Before he called over to you with his lips separated ajar, he found himself entranced by it.

But what was so interesting about something as common as a storage disk? For some reason, the small object in his hand resonated with him. It was… So familiar. As if he’d seen something like this before. Or perhaps, it reminded him of something he forgot about. Problem was, he didn’t know what. And it was a gut feeling so strong, he couldn’t seem to shake it off.

The voice in my head

That night, he was called to his superior’s office for a security briefing. Appearing through the tall double door, he walked in with his hands in his pockets. Situated deep in the room, and just by the window overlooking the blinking lights of the city, was his desk, and the man Matsumoto himself. His chair spun around to reveal a bearded man well into his seventies with a light scowl on his face. “I expect you to wear the uniform suitable for these occasions, Jekyll.”

Allen blinked before rubbing his neck. “Right, sorry. Forgot.” In all honesty, he considered showing up in a black tie and all, but it wasn’t the most comfortable fit in the world. “So, what’dya call me in for?”

The other clasped his hands together and gave him a firm stare. “Even in my company, you have moments of… Stepping out of line. Breaches of discipline.” He gestured to his attire, letting it do the speaking. “I may overlook some inconsistencies in exchange for your services, but there is one rule you must not break under any circumstances.”

Silence fell in the room so you could hear a pin drop. It gave Allen some room to think–to guess what his superior was going to warn him about. A secret basement that locked up human guinea pigs he wasn’t supposed to stumble into, perhaps? But that was ridiculous. So he stayed quiet, prepared to listen intently to the man. Surely, his guess was far from reality.

“There is a… Basement a few floors beneath the lobby.”

Allen froze. He’d heard this before.

Otherwise, how else could he guess that he’d say this?

“I keep my most prized possessions in there. Personal vehicles and upgrades. Nothing goes in and out undetected. So don’t even think about stepping inside.” He couldn’t believe a word he said, as calm and convincing his tone was.

Allen had an idea why.

He sensed something was off the minute he came here. It was all so obvious–the familiarity of the dojo halls, the USB, and even his face in the mirror. He’d seen it all before. Previously, he’d brushed it all off. But he couldn’t deny it any longer now that he had this conversation, a conversation he already had. So if his intuition was right, that meant he could guess what was actually in the basement. And there were no fancy sports cars to speak of.

He gritted his teeth as his tanned complexion began to pale. Then, his stomach began to churn.

“… Are you unwell?”

He lifted his head and shook it. “Nah. Just lost in thought.”

“You may lose yourself in the emptiness in your head as much as you desire, but not in my presence. If you don’t have any questions, you are dismissed.”

“Yessir.”

Turning on the spot to leave, a deep frown downturned his features now that he wasn’t facing him anymore. Something was terribly wrong. And he was about to confirm it. A couple of hours later when the whole building fell quiet, he snuck down to the basement floor through the elevator. And while he ran through the pitch-black halls to the door in the end, he couldn’t get this thought out of his mind. He’d definitely done this before, too.

Swinging the door open, he was greeted with a familiar stench of death. But he didn’t have time to gag. Running to the two pods, he never bothered turning on his night vision. He trusted his body and his muscle memories to guide the way. And it was the right call, because he found himself standing by the pods in no time. Lifting up one of the hatches to find a mummified corpse, he stared with an unreadable expression.

He wasn’t even surprised. And that was really telling, considering he would’ve vomited at the sight. But this only solidified his suspicions. This wasn’t new.

Nothing was.

Turning to the other pod, he fiddled around the latches for a minute or so before giving in. This one couldn’t be opened, not without proper authorization. Okay, this was new. He didn’t remember this pod being locked. So he jabbed his fingers into a couple of buttons, unable to resist his curiosity. He couldn’t leave any stones unturned. Thankfully, his rapid button smashing eventually did do something to reveal what was inside.

The glass that was previously fogged up cleared.

Inside lay a man. A blonde. His skin was flawless in save for the outlines of removable plates. He was a cybernetically enhanced individual, but not one he wasn’t already acquainted with.

“We put him to sleep for fifty years…”

“By the time he gained his consciousness, we turned him into a killing machine.”

“Even to this day, he remains my greatest creation.“

Fragments of his memory began to play in his head. All until he could remember the name of the sleeping figure. It was Alfred. And he had yet to wake up to go on a killing rampage, or in other words, the first time they’d ever meet.

Allen eventually retreated back to his condo. The first thing he did was go to the bathroom and splash cold water to his face. If he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on, he needed to clear his convoluted mind first. Either he was a psychic or stuck in another reality. But he wasn’t bright enough to be a psychic. And interdimensional travel wasn’t invented. Yet. So what could it be?

While he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his wet fingers, his train of thought was interrupted by a voice. And it sounded just like his, but deeper.

Glancing up to the source, he found himself staring at his own reflection in his mirror. But he came to realize it wasn’t him–rather, it was an older version of him. They had the same face, eye color, and hair, but the person who glared back at him had sharper features, and a more defined jawline. Unbeknownst to him, it was the subconscious of his present self.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed.

Slamming his hands against the mirror, the loud bang caused Allen to jump. “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!”

Allen dug his hands through his hair, and before he could even question him, panic overwhelmed his system. Not that he needed to, because everything he was just told made perfect sense. “W-Wake up? But… But how?”

“What do you think genius? You have to die!” The other screamed. “If you don’t wake up soon, Alfred and (F/N) are gonna get away with the chip! You can’t let him put it in his head! The Soulkiller will destroy him!”

Fuck.

He felt himself tense up in all reality as more memories flowed back to him. That was right. He was in a coma after being stabbed by a katana. He remembered how desperate he was as he fought to stay awake, all so he could warn Alfred he was falling into a trap. But he failed, and wound up in another realm of reality. His dreams. And if he didn’t wake up soon, there was going to be hell to pay.

Shoving his hand into his jacket, he pulled out a gun.

Then, he exchanged wary glances with his subconscious, who nodded at him.

He cocked it. “If you’re wrong… And I die in real life…” It wasn’t like he had anything to threaten him with, though. “Let’s hope I don’t.” Sliding the gun into his mouth, he screwed his eyes shut. Then, he pulled the trigger.

Shooting up with a loud gasp, he finally awakened from the longest trauma-induced sleep he’d ever had. Almost immediately, he heard somebody else let out a scream of genuine fear. “Ah–!” By the foot of the bed he was laying in was Arthur, and he’d fallen right out of his chair. “Jesus fucking Christ! If I’d known you’d wake up like that, I would’ve sat further away!”

Standing back onto his feet, he was never fast enough to stop Allen from sliding himself off the bed. “Hey– watch it! You can’t move right away!”

“How did I get here?”

Arthur stepped back as his friend loomed over him. “Well–I’m not sure how you fell into a coma, but it was Alfred and (F/N) who brought you in.”

Thank god. “And where are they now?”

The other shrugged with a look of defeat. “I don’t know, honestly. All I know is they’re doing something dangerous. Alfred wouldn’t leave before I helped him install a new set of mantis blades.”

“Fuck!” He hissed, feeling his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile was even rising in his throat as he reflected on the possibility that Alfred was already dead. “I was too late. I was too fucking late.” Shaking his head as heat accumulated behind his eyes, he paused for a moment, letting hot tears of frustration run down his face. Then, he gripped Arthur’s shoulders when he was hit with an epiphany. With the slim chance they only left recently, he still had time.

“How long have they been gone for?”

The blonde pondered for a moment, but the concern in his eyes never faded. “Only a week, give or take. Why? What’s wrong?”

Before Allen could breathe out a sigh of relief, he was gripped with a panic-inducing sense of urgency. “That means I can still save him!” If he remembered correctly, the Soulkiller virus needed at least two weeks before the damage became permanent. So if he could somehow find you both in seven days, he could save Alfred. “No questions. I’ll explain in the car! We have to find them as soon as possible!”

He would’ve been dead if it weren’t for him.

So in return for saving his life, he’d do anything to save his too.

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