THE STORM - Part seven
Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)
Pairing: Black Noir x OC
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.
Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!
Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!
Operation Whistle-blower
As the first tendrils of sunlight curled through her bedroom’s blind shades, Sarah rolled over in her bed, still unable to fall asleep. Her mind was crowded with thoughts surrounding her evening encounter. What was she going to do? The lines always grew muddy in these situations, and she still didn’t know what to think of Black Noir. If anything, their interaction only added to her confusion.
She was so tired. But nevertheless, she pulled herself into a sitting position and waited for the pounding at her temples to subside. Once it finally did, she stretched and rose from the warm bed.
And so, her morning began. Looking in the mirror, she wondered what had changed. She’d been training for these moments, preparing to execute her plan. When had she gotten so tired? When had she lost her edge? Wherever it went, she needed to find it immediately.
Sarah’s morning routine was precise, meticulous even. First, she made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up for the day. This was followed by a morning workout, consisting of either jump-rope hiit or strength exercises. She stretched and drank her lemon water. At that point, she always took a shower and decided her look for the day. Outfit, hairstyle, and makeup. Once she was prim and proper, she would head into the kitchen and make herself pancakes, which she considered to be the best start to any morning.
Once she’d cleaned up, she’d gather her things and head out.
On the other hand, Black Noir needed no more than three hours of sleep and often found himself awake throughout the night. He’d spend his time reading, prowling the city, or watching movies. He wasn’t quite sure how it’d started, but one movie every now and then turned into one or two movies a night.
When the sun begins to rise, he starts his routine of suiting up and eating breakfast. He would then enter the combat training room Vought had built for him and that only him and the company knew about. He clocked many hours in that room, constantly training and sharpening his skills. He’d freshen up before heading out for meetings or events.
Sometimes even missions. Now those were his favorites and he often found himself craving one just to be able to let go, to use his abilities. He was a master martial artist and interrogator. He was a spy supplied with strength, durability, and knife proficiency. When they assigned a target, it always ended up classified as ‘terminated’. He never missed, he never failed.
But that morning was like any other, and he had yet another string of meetings. And so, with great composure he completed his morning routine, slipped his mask on, and left his living quarters.
He found that the only thing he might look forward to as much as a mission, was meeting the woman who had captivated his attention that fateful night at the gala. She was different from what he’d originally imagined, still radiant but imperfect. Up close, watching her while she spoke, he had noted a sadness, a maturity in her eyes he wasn’t expecting. For the first time, he was personally invested in another human being, watching over her like a guardian. She was hiding something, and he’d get to the bottom of it soon enough.
..
The day went by in no rush, the hours slowly dragging along. The burning in her eyes and the heaviness of her limbs were nothing when compared to the pounding in her head.
Massaging her temples, Sarah tried to focus on the task at hand.
Someone hovered over her desk, “Long day?”
Sarah hummed before granting her friend some attention. She didn’t like the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Or should I say long night?”
“Hell no, don’t start up with that,” Sarah immediately rejected the image she had conjured up at Martha’s words.
Martha merely huffed in disappointment but respected her wish to keep quiet about it at the moment. You could never really know who is watching or listening.
“All right, all right,” the blonde swept at her bangs. “Are you sure you’re up for tonight?”
Sarah immediately nodded, “Of course, we need to go over a few things.”
Martha watched her closely, “You hide it well, but you really need to slow down.”
She knew her friend meant well and was probably worried over her fatigued state, but there was no time for rest. She could sleep, but it never truly replenished her. It only kept her going.
And who could blame her for it? People who slept well weren’t constantly looking over their shoulder, afraid of being identified and murdered in cold blood. They weren’t leading a plan to take down one of the biggest, most successful pharmaceutical companies in the world. They weren’t being watched by an enhanced, murderous ninja who could tear their head off. Most of all, they didn’t fear burning up and clearing a block in their sleep.
As a little girl, she’d always sleep curled up at the center of the bed, far from the edges. Under no circumstances would she allow a limb to fall over the side. Now, she always slept with an arm hanging out, her fingers inches away from the backpack holding all the necessities to disappear at a moment’s notice. New passport, keys to a safe house, change of clothes, snack bars, lighter, knife, flashlight…
Sarah stirred herself from her thoughts, “It’s fine, I’m just not sleeping that well.”
The other woman pursed her lips.
..
What Martha had been referring to was their weekly night out every Friday. They would either go for dinner at a restaurant or go clubbing if they had to discuss anything in secrecy. That night, they were heading to one of their favorite clubs for dancing and plotting. A club is the perfect place to talk about sensitive information if you find the right spot inside. The loud music masks your words, and most of the people are drinking, buzzed, or completely wasted. And seeing them out together raised no suspicion because it simply looked like friends going out and having fun. Additionally, they got to dance which was always a plus in the two women’s eyes.
Martha often complained that at twenty-seven they were rapidly approaching the deadline for going to clubs, dancing events and such. She was often very dramatic about it, claiming they had to enjoy it before they got labelled as cougars. Sarah always brushed it off with a laugh, not even attempting to reason with her friend’s logic.
And while she enjoyed going to clubs or bars, that night she truly was regretting it. She slipped into a small, refined black dress and hopped into her heels. She’d already done her eye makeup and moved in front of the mirror to apply a rich, dark red lipstick. Her hair was left down, cascading over her shoulders in tight kinks and curls, a cloud of dark brown locks. She pulled her bangs to the side and took in her appearance in the mirror.
Alluring and mysterious, perfect.
Her phone vibrated from an incoming call. “Hey, I’m two minutes away, start locking doors or whatever it is that always makes you late.”
Sarah laughed and started to, indeed, shut her windows and lock the backdoor. She finally made it to the porch where she stood waiting for her friend’s Honda.
Little did she know, a certain someone was hidden on her roof, listening to her move around on the porch beneath him. Black Noir could smell the enticing perfume she’d applied and could hear the characteristic click of heels on wood. He breathed in deeply and restrained himself from jumping down.
She was lightly humming to herself, and he found the tune oddly familiar, but he couldn’t recall when he’d last heard it.
A light grey car rolled around the corner and came to a stop in front of the house.
When Sarah stepped down from the porch and onto the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but hold his breathe. Frozen in his spot, he grew hot at the elegant form-hugging dress she wore, her hips swaying from side to side. Ringlets of dark hair reached down the curve of her back. Where was she going looking like that?
As the car sped away, Black Noir took a few moments to collect himself. She’d completely clouded his mind, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. One of the things that made him so efficient was his ability to focus, always. In any situation, he selected and categorized his surroundings with an ease unlike any other man or woman. He was controlled. No distractions, ever. His outlet was killing, but even then, it was methodical.
But now he felt an underlying tension grow, right under the skin where he couldn’t reach. She was stunning, and he was sure others would think so as well. He’d gouge their eyes out. If he caught anyone catcalling, he’d rip out their tongues. Yes, that’s appropriate.
He shook his head, almost in an attempt to concentrate. Mostly, he was angry with her. Who was she meeting? He sneered at the thought of another man entering the picture.
And so, fueled by possessiveness and an unfathomable jealousy, he followed from the rooftops with an ever-watchful eye.
..
Having already been there multiple times, Sarah and Martha were quick to settle into their usual spot. Taking in the masses of moving bodies around her, Sarah glanced at the people within hearing range. A good rule a thumb was that if she could he hear them speak, so could they hear her.
She moved closer to her friend as Martha started, “I think this is a good time to proceed with everything. I mean, we’re only missing the codes to the lab.”
Sarah snorted, “Yeah, as well as infiltrating the lab, taking the samples and data—like the whole rest of the plan.” She mused, “Oh and don’t forget, we have to live through it and get everything to Max.”
Martha rolled her eyes, “Okay, you’re right but still…,” she took a sip of her drink, “it’s time. There’s a lot of confusion and change at Vought, it could easily be someone else.”
Sarah thought about it. “The plan is pretty solid. It has its risks, but I don’t think there’s any potential plan that doesn’t have any.”
Martha approved, “Exactly. Plus, it fits in with the timeline so we’re good.”
“Yeah….” Sarah trailed off before finally deciding, “I’ll do it next week. I get the algorithm and you crack it.”
Martha high-fived her and downed her drink. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
“To Operation Whistle-blower.”
Sarah smiled, “To Operation Whistle-blower”
After such extensive planning, it felt good to finally act, to make Vought pay. She would just need to hold it together for a little longer, focus and get the job done.
Looking over at the blonde she searched her eyes for doubt or remorse. After all, this wasn’t her battle and she’d gotten wrapped into it almost accidentally. They had met at Mallory’s house as teenagers and had been inseparable ever since. And they made a good team, always looking out for each other in the dangerous world of lies, conspiracies and death they grew up in.
Martha snapped her fingers, “You still with us?”
Laughing at her friend’s impatience, Sarah nodded and focused on the drink in front of her.
“Have you told Mallory how we’re proceeding?”
Growing serious, the brunette shook her head, “I only call at our scheduled time on Sunday. I’ll hint at it then.”
Martha leaned back in her seat, “Yeah, it would be great if she could muddy the waters even more, feed false information here and there.”
“You know she’ll help where she can, but I don’t want her involved,” Sarah repeated for the hundredth time, “She already doesn’t want me doing this, and she’s suffered enough.”
Watching her friend retreat into her thoughts, Martha made the snap decision to get up and literally force her to be present.
“Let’s dance.”
Sarah sputtered, “Well okay.” She stared wide-eyed at her friend, “That was sudden.”
“Well you know all that crap about,” she paused for emphasis, “Ces la vie”
The young brunette stood up and laughed at her friend’s antics as she was swept into the crowd.
Losing themselves to the music, they joined the mass of moving bodies, shaking hips and hands raised. The pounding music had since reached into their chest, their bodies almost vibrating to the fast tempo of the music. It was exhilarating, until Sarah’s head felt like it split open.
Martha touched her neck.
“Oh my god, Sarah what happened,” she yelled over the music.
She dragged her over to a less crowded corner and checked her over for any sign of injury. The bleeding woman could feel her agitation grow and spread throughout her body. Had someone nicked her? She looked back into the crowd, wondering who was hiding in there, waiting to finish her off. The dim lights over the sea of moving bodies concealed everything, both action and sound.
Martha found the source of her bleeding, “Oh god Sarah, it’s your ear, it’s bleeding.” Looking up with knowing eyes she placed her hands on the brunette’s shoulders, steadying her. “Look at me, we’re fine. You need to calm down.”
Sarah’s eyes were traced by thin glowing veins, and her breaths were increasingly shallow. She could feel her heartbeat at the tips of her fingers, her whole body on edge.
When Sarah looked from side to side, Martha lightly shook her to catch her attention. “Hey,” she warned.
Slowly, the net of glowing light blue retreated.
“Are we cool?”
Sarah swallowed, “Yeah, I’m fine now.”
Martha tugged on her hand and led her to the exit. They both knew she needed to go home and fully slow down—come down from her high. The moment of danger had triggered a response that she thought had long went dormant.
“It’s been a long time since I last saw you like that.”
Sarah merely wrapped her arms around her waist. After the moment of scalding hot, she was now left cold, almost shivering.
“Has it happened since last time.”
Sarah stared ahead. “Not really.”
“What do you mean ‘not really’?
The brunette kicked at a small rock on the sidewalk. “When I sleep and I remember things, I feel it. But I wake up each time.”
“Jesus, no wonder you’re not sleeping.” Martha looked over at her pensive friend, “I’m staying over tonight. It can be a sleepover like the old days.”
Sarah smiled at the thought of their wild adventures. Their sleepovers were not what people commonly thought of. There was no braiding, nail polish or barbies. It was training, sparring, and eating abnormal amounts of ice-cream.
“You’re going to rest, and I’m going to make you some tea,” Martha decided.
“So a different kind of sleepover,” Sarah pointed out.
Martha looked over, worry in her eyes. “Yeah, a different kind of sleepover.”
When she stayed silent, the blonde made a light-hearted comment, “You know we need to branch out, get out of our comfort zones so that we can grow as human beings”
At Sarah’s laugh she proceeded, “Maybe we should try braiding your hair, too.”
The brunette raked a hand through the ends of her curly hair, “Please, you don’t have what it takes.”
Laughing, Martha agreed. From behind them, someone called out.
“Hey, girls, wait up.” A stocky man with hard eyes but a blinding smile came to stand way too close for comfort, and they both took a step back.
“Can I get your numbers?”
“Excuse me?”
“Can I get one of your numbers” he asked again, but slower.
They were both getting bad vibes. Sarah sized him up, still rattled from what happened in the club.
“Yeah, we understand English, we just don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here.”
Martha interjected with a disbelieving tone, “Are you trying to get both of our numbers?”
He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, probably thinking he was cute.
“Well, I’ll take what I can get. One or both.”
Martha smiled widely, “Yeah, no, that was the worst attempt to a get a girl’s number in the history of pick-up lines.”
Sarah agreed, “We’re leaving.”
She promptly spun around but was stopped when he grabbed her wrist and shook her. She looked back at him and down at his hold, feeling the energy bubbling right under the surface.
“Come on, I know you want it, no way you weren’t dancing for attention in there.”
And for an instant she got a glimpse into his mind, pictures clouding her thoughts. Her own mind was now spun up, running a thousand miles per hour as her body grew increasingly hot. Martha attempted to catch her attention.
“Come on, let’s go, we’re leaving now.”
But Sarah stood stock still, staring at the man as he grew more and more uncomfortable. Not as bold as before, he tried to back out. When she felt a looser tension on her wrist, she twisted and grabbed onto his, pulling him close.
Her temperature surpassed what would commonly be considered a fever, and she felt the characteristic burning warmth pervading her chest, like ribbons of fire and smoke swirling though her ribcage.
The man started to feel heat on his wrist, and, confused, he tugged. Sarah never moved. And Martha was terrified, not knowing how to knock her friend out of her trance-like state of focus on the disrespectful man in front of them. She had already been on edge, and him grabbing her like that must have sent her barreling over a metaphorical cliff.
Growing scared, he tugged even harder, to no avail. She saw Jason in his features. And suddenly, her skin was so hot, he was burning. She seared the shape of her fingers onto his wrist and ignored the smell of burning skin in the air.
“Oh god, Sarah that’s enough.”
She pressed harder, and he kneeled to the floor, trying to twist out of her grasp.
“Sarah, you’ll blow our cover,” she tried, and finally pleaded, “Marianna.”
That got to her, somewhere in her mind. It shook her and distracted her from the surge of energy building up inside.
Leaning down, she whispered. “You need to learn to respect women. We’re not weak playthings, you hear?”
He nodded insistently, and she finally let him fall back onto the sidewalk, clutching onto his wrist.
Martha watched her, “Now, are we cool?”
Sarah couldn’t quite meet her eyes, “I’m sorry.”
Martha was slightly fuming, but it was worry that truly consumed her.
“You better do some jumping jacks or flap your arms to cool down, because you will not burn my leather seats.”
..
Once they left, the silence in the car was suffocating.
Sarah finally pierced it, “I saw what he was thinking, Martha. Not like I could in the past—just a glimpse.”
She peered out of the window into the night.
“And it was horrible.”
..
Up on the rooftops, Black Noir had watched the interaction with growing frustration.
Ready to make his way down to kill the man, he stopped in his tracks. Was this the secret she’d been hiding? She too was enhanced.
She wasn’t on any of Vought’s lists or indexes, which confirmed the fact that she was using a fake identity. So, if she was hiding, presumably from the company that had made her into what she is, why was she working there? So many questions, and no answers.
And why had the other woman called her Marianna? Was that her true name?
His patience was growing thin, but he decided he wouldn’t advance on her until he had a better understanding of where she stood. He found himself proud of how she’d handled the man. Disappointed that she hadn’t killed him, but proud, nonetheless. If she had simply given over her number, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. Violent thoughts danced behind his eyes but he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry them out, not on her.
He leapt down from where he was perched and followed the man without a sound.
And in the dark of night, one can only imagine what happened when he finally reached him.
-Giulia
Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 @proximio-5 @damiminator
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