Before Take Off:

If at first you don't succeed... try, try, again!

[i-am-a-fish]

let’s pour one out for all the janitors who clean and never get enough appreciation

[elainapoststhings]

Don’t they gotta clean up what we pour out

[i-am-a-fish]

fuck stop it everyone the post is cancelled everyone please stop fuck what have I done

[andersonsallpurpose]

let’s clean one up for the janitors

[orvilleright-blog1]

Stain Remover -The Janitors-

[orvilleright-blog1]

bernardnewhart‌:

Something he didn’t expect to happen: Orville to laugh. 

He was waiting for Orville to get mad, get louder, point a finger, yell something mean. Something that would escalate the situation until Bianca came back to find them both bloody and bruised. Instead he deflated the tension, letting the air out of the balloon until it was nothing but a piece of plastic with no meaning to it. 

Bernard’s brow wrinkled, the upper corner of his lips pulling up with uncertainty because, seriously, what the hell? All through the little spout he watched on in uncertainty. His heart rate was slowly pulling itself back down, the adrenaline from having spoken his mind was exiting his system. All that was left was confusion and frustration. 

Mostly because he knew Orville had gone through something terrible. Something that made him spit venom and slam doors in people’s faces, Bianca’s mostly apparently, but someone had to tell him that wasn’t okay. There had to be a limit, and just because he was hurting didn’t mean he could hurt other people, too. Not if he wanted them to be his friends. And Bernard did want to be his friend so he felt it was necessary.

Apparently so did Orville. 

“You’re wel-welcome,” Bernard nodded sharply, proud of himself for a change. “I-I don’t mean to…be rude. But…but I was j-just doing my job. A-and I…that’s okay. I didn’t-didn’t know you were lying either. So. We c-can call it even.”

Orville harrumphed at that, shaking his head a little because Orville didn’t just call things even. He didn’t let things lie, he didn’t let things go. He used to. He use to not give a shit about anything that gave him misfortune. He would take it as a challenge instead, to take those inconveniences and show that he could do whatever he wanted with them present, be better despite them being there. Now, though...now it felt like he leaned on them. Used them as excuses of why not to do something. Or anything for that matter.

He sighed then, feeling tired all over again. Feeling the bruises with every shift, the aches, the pains. All of it was there as a reminder of just how weak he really was. 

And yet he was sitting in his kitchen. In the small town he ran off to. Across from a man who had helped to make sure all of that was possible. He was still weak, still a broken off piece of a whole that he use to be, who didn’t necessarily deserve to have the man, who had saved him, who had befriended him without knowing the truth, sitting there’s presence. Orville had just been trying to bash him in with his words and Bernard had taken it and hit right back, knocked some sense into him finally. 

“Nah, mate,” Orville shook his head, tapping a hand lightly against the table. “You’re fine. I was outta line there. You...”

He swallowed, glancing up at Bernard from where he was watching his fingers against the grain of the wooden table’s top, feeling awkward suddenly, something that didn’t happen to him often. “Thank you. For everything. I didn’t say it earlier, but. Thanks.” 

[orvilleright-blog1]

Stain Remover -The Janitors-

[orvilleright-blog1]

bernardnewhart‌:

“No, no, I-, no!” Bernard said, his head shaking while his arms waved back and forth in an effort to use his whole body to convey how wrong all of that was. This was just some giant misunderstanding that happened because no one had bothered to tell each other about one another. Bernard knew everyone’s reasoning, he wasn’t angry with either Orville or Bianca for that, but the way Orville was acting now was like he had a right to know. 

The thing was he didn’t. Bernard didn’t know he had been an agent, Bernard wasn’t going to do something as stupid as walk up to someone and reveal that he was one. Even if they were friends, there was more to it than just sharing a secret to someone he trusted. There was Bianca’s safety to think about, Peach’s, and the RAS. 

“Y-you don’t get to-to act like a-a-a…,” Bernard struggled to think of the right word, his hand gesturing at Orville as his frustration with the situation grew, “and ass just because of what…of what happened. I know you-you’re angry but I’m-, we’re here to help you!”

He swallowed, sitting back, but then pushed back forwards because you know what, he wasn’t done. “And-! You were an agent, too! So don’t-don’t act like you don’t know what th-that means. Y-you signed up kn-knowing the risks. And you know…you know I c-couldn’t tell you so s-s-stop pointing fingers just because Bianca kept your s-secret. You weren’t exactly c-completely truthful ei-either.” 

He was caught off guard at first, his eyes going a bit wide as Bernard went on to chew him out. It made him get a little angry to be told off like this by some guy he thought he knew but really didn’t at all. It burned under his skin, made his heart bounce in his chest as he prepared for a spar. How could someone who had only been in the field for a year, who had been nothing but a janitor, be telling him how to act? 

Then he caught himself. It was like trying to grab a hold of a fish when it was just coming off the line, but he managed. It was almost like Bernard’s words had gotten through that thick skull of his, along with the actions both he and Bianca had taken in order to allow him to be sitting in the kitchen of his home. 

And then he began to laugh. He felt insane for doing so, but he already knew he was insane, had figured that out three weeks after sitting in that safe house wondering if he should just go turn himself back into them in order to avoid a life of being chased. 

It was a long laugh, something he seemed have been needing for months now in order to get out all that pent up emotion that had been building ever since Bianca had first found him. 

“Yeah, alright,” he sniffed, wiping at the stray water in the corners of his eyes. “Alright, mate, got me there. I--, sorry. I’m just bent out of shape because you were pretty good and I didn’t pick up on it. Usually I’m pretty good about that kinda thing. Or, I guess I was at one point. Can’t be now that my brains mashed to pieces.”

He chuckled, smiling down at the table and then back up at Bernard. “Thanks for that.” 

[orvilleright-blog1]

Stain Remover -The Janitors-

[orvilleright-blog1]

bernardnewhart‌:

Bernard watched Orville’s hands move, blinking with confusion at him before, oh!, he was asking Bernard to take a seat. 

He looked around for a moment, as if checking the surrounding area to ensure that he would be safe to sit down without having to get right back up because he forgot to do something or there would be something to do right after he settled in. When the coast was clear he made his way over, pulling the chair away from the side of the table and taking a seat as Orville continued on. 

A quick adjustment to his glasses he thought over the question, pressing his fingers over his mouth for a moment to make sure he didn’t say anything without thinking about what was going to come out first. He’d been careful to not let on anything with Orville before hand, but now he probably didn’t have to do that right? He was their ally. He already knew about the RAS. But he was also…not an Agent anymore, so some secrets would need to remain. Which didn’t sit well with Bernard, not with all the other man had gone through because of those secrets.

“N-no-no. That’s-, I was-,” he tried. His flustered state at Orville seemingly making fun of him, not believing that this, who Bernard really was, could possibly be an Agent for the Rescue Aid Society was hurtful as it was coming from the mouth of someone he had thought to be his friend. He took a moment to get a grip, make his mouth cooperate so he could explain.

“I was…I was the just the ja-janitor,” he insisted, looking up at the other across from him to make sure he could see the truth in his eyes. “But I’ve only been in the field for-…for a little-little over a ye-year. Coming to-to uh,…to Swynlake was-. Is my first mis-mission.” 

Either Bernard Newhart was a damn good liar or.

Or, he was telling the truth. 

Orville didn’t really know which one he preferred to believe. 

He looked back and forth between Bernard’s eyes, searching for his tell now that he knew to look for one at all. Yet there was nothing there, it just looked like a sincere truth. An outlandish truth that truly only the Rescue Aid Society could pull off. Training up a guy like Bernard when he’d been mopping their floors and taking out their garbage. 

Orville relaxed a little at realizing he was being told the truth, that he hadn’t just been an idiot who came looking for Orville and got caught up in this whole thing for no reason. But then he got all fired up again upon realizing that. He glared at the other, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back until he was resting against the back of the chair.

“So you-, what?” Orville scoffed. “You come talk to me because I kept telling Bianca to piss off? She sent you to keep tabs on me or something? Or were you just acting on your own, thinking I needed to be kept under observation because I’d cracked?” 

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got because he, like Bernard, had been under the assumption that they were friends. And just because he was indebted to him for saving his life didn’t mean Orville was going to forgive him for something like that. 

[virtuosiity-blog]

a world of her own / open

[orvilleright-blog1]

virtuosiity‌:

University books were a lot more expensive than Rapunzel Corona had ever believed they would be. From the list in her back pocket, it would be upwards of about half her paycheck from the last time she lived here. She was lucky the money she saved away from her ventures was available to help her for the time being, otherwise, she would have been completely sunk. In the end, she couldn’t help any of it and decided it was best to let fate take care of her for now. What was the worst that could happen?

With her earphones in, the girl decided to venture out to buy all that supplies, humming to herself as she gracefully waltzed her way down the sidewalk. The music was what made her day that much better, as she quickly found herself singing along rather than just humming. The world was oblivious to her presence and maybe that was for the best as she swung herself around a light post as she went along on her merry way.

She was in her own musical, a lead in her own mind, twirling around and singing with the lines as though they were written just for her. But eventually, musicals had to end and stars were left to lead normal lives. That was exactly what happened to the blonde as her phone fell right out of her hands and took her earphones with her. She was left to face the crowd of confused faces as stood waiting for the cross street light to change. 

“Shoot, I’m sorry–” she said, her cheeks ablaze as she scrambled to retrieve her phone. Of course, as fate would have it, that was when everything else spilled out of her bag too. “Incredible.”

After some convincing Orville had been able to shake his two babysitters in order to go to work. He knew better than anyone where his limits were, he had become very good at being able to gauge when he should take a day to sit alone and not subject people to the paranoid frazzled shit for brains he would be versus when he was actually feeling like a fully there, potentially productive member of society. 

On the way to the University he just drank in the town. The buildings in all their glory, the cars that moved by slowly as they were cautious of the pedestrians, and the people themselves. Most of all he kept glancing up at the sky, thankful to be able to see it instead of a dark ceiling above him.

But he was also still a little touchy, so when the sound of something clattering to the ground rang out he flinched harshly, turning around with wide eyes to see what he was up against. Relief hit him as he saw the young woman crouch down to gather her things. Orville started forwards to help her, only to watch as some person picked up her mobile while she was preoccupied with the contents of her bag.

He expected them to turn to hand it over to her, but instead they pocketed it and moved with the crowd as they all began to cross the street. Orville looked from the woman to the other walking away before shouting an, “Oi’, you!” and following after her. 

[orvilleright-blog1]

Stain Remover -The Janitors-

[orvilleright-blog1]

bernardnewhart‌:

It hadn’t really occurred to Bernard that Orville would have been angry with him about being apart of the RAS. He didn’t know his animosity towards the Agency, he hadn’t known any of his background past what he had told him. Which was he was a simple blue collar worker from Scotland who decided to settle in Swynlake because it happened to be where he ended up.

How was he suppose to know? He was learning to read people but he wasn’t learning how to dive that deep into someone’s mind that he got their back story just from looking at them. There had never been any indication or reason to believe that Orville was anything but the man he was. Although he had picked up on the sort of jumpy quality he had. Bernard didn’t think it meant he had spent a year being…being…

Anyways, the point was, he didn’t know Orville was mad because he didn’t think there was any reason to be mad so he was oblivious to it. Up until he took over watch of the guy and the greeting lacked its usual luster. It had him scratching his head and trying a few more times before he caught on to the chilly air around them. He just figured that was because Orville was kinda having a rough time, which he understood, so he kept out of his way for now. 

Bernard’s eyebrows jumped up as he turned at Orville’s voice. And, okay, he was catching on to the anger now. He chuckled a little, both because the first question was amusing and because the second one made him uncomfortable.

“N-no, no, I was! I was, I was a ja-janitor,” he said pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “For the, uh, RAS, actually. I was at-at the Head Quarters in uh, well in New York.” 

Bit jumpy for an Agent of the RAS wasn’t he? Orville rolled his eyes at the man’s demeanor. All of a sudden he was back to the bumbling, nice guy routine. Even thought Orville had seen this man, with his own two eyes mind you, take two men off their feet. 

“I’m not buyin’ what you’re sellin’ mate,” he said, making his way over to the table by leaning on one counter to another until he was plopping his weight down in one of the chairs, a soft sound coming out of him at the relief of no longer having to hold the majority of his weight anymore. 

Orville gestured to the chair catty corner to him for Bernard to take a seat. They weren’t letting him go anywhere any time soon, not that Orville had planned to go anywhere at all since he’d managed to sort out running out on his shift the other night and taking time off without getting the axe. 

“You mean to tell me,” Orville started, his face skeptical to match the tone of mockery in his voice, “that you were a janitor for the Society and that...what? They just made you an Agent one day outta the blue?”

He gave a bark of laughter, then winced at the pain that shot through him. Worth it, though. “Cut the shit, mate. Come on, how long you’ve been in the field?”  

[orvilleright-blog1]

Stain Remover -The Janitors-

@bernardnewhart​

No time to explain, come on. 

Don’t think that Orville was just going to let a little thing like Bernard fucking Newhart playing him for an idiot. He had stared at the familiar face with blurry vision and wondered just how in the hell he’d gotten there. Didn’t matter what Bianca said about, didn’t matter if he had helped him out of a tight spot....well alright, that actually mattered a whole lot because the man had risked his life for Orville, and that did mean something to him. It meant a lot to him. He just didn’t want to admit that in the moment because he was angry.

Angry and a little confused because no offense to Bernard, he had certainly showed his ability to hold his own, but he wasn’t exactly what Orville had been expecting from Bianca’s faceless partner. He’d never even heard of him in all the years Orville had been apart of the RAS, so either the guy was top of the charts who had been deep under cover for years, because he was pretty brilliant at the whole stutter, nice guy act. Even Orville’s paranoid brain had bought right into it. 

With the back and forth of: well he helped get him out of his own personal hell again, which was the single greatest thing anyone had ever done for him, and being terribly angry that he’d been duped. Even though...it made sense that if neither one knew each other then Bernard wouldn’t have wanted to give up his cover...All he really wanted was an explanation from the man himself. 

And there they were, Bernard standing in Orville’s kitchen, because apparently the two agents felt as though he needed a baby sitter. Orville had been given him the silent treatment while he was debating on how to deal with it, but to hell with being subtle about it. 

“So,” Orville announced himself, leaning up against the door frame of the kitchen with the whole of his left side. “Were you ever really a janitor? Or were you just full of shit?” 

[orvilleright-blog1]

Overdue Apology -Red Light Runners-

@miissbiianca

It was the sunlight that woke him up. 

Thankfully, due to his brain being to tired to come up with torturous scenarios to process he didn’t dream, he didn’t have nightmares. It was like that the first time too when he had woken up in that small Russian hospital they’d brought him to after passing out in the store. They would come later, though. They always did. 

He sat up too quickly, breathed in with too much force, his head swam enough to send him crashing back into the mattress.  His body had somehow gotten use to not doing this everyday. It had liked not hurting, not having to endure so much all the time at the hands of people who had never known the pain they were inflicting. Eventually he got himself out of bed, still in the same clothes and shoes, having stained the pillow case with a variety of blood and dirt. 

Took him a long time to scrub everything away so the water going down the drain was clear, but soon enough he was cleaned up. Looked worse for wear, his skin showing that even the strongest wills could be bludgeoned, but alive. Somehow. 

Orville was slowly making his way to the washer with his uniform wrapped in his sheets tucked in one arm while the other was holding him up via the wall’s help when he noticed someone else was in his house. After telling Bernard and Bianca that he wasn’t going to the hospital, he couldn’t trust anyone there now, and went round to his bedroom to sleep he’d thought they left him to his own. 

“Bianca?” he asked, squinting at her as the bright lights of the sun coming in hurt his eyes. He looked around briefly for her partner, “What’re you still doing here?” 

[bdrpmemes]

@orvilleright

[orvilleright-blog1]

Heads Held High,Touch The Sky, Our Hearts We Pledge To Thee

@miissbiianca​ @bernardnewhart​

Previously on The Rescuers + Orville: Bianca warns Orville of what’s coming, Orville tries to run away, and The Rescuers find Orville had been taken, again.  

And now, The Rescuers do some rescuing. 

tw: blood, mentions of past torture, violence, implied death, guns. 

ORVILLE

Above is the sky where the Sun it still pondering whether it should take its leave. The other side of the world beckons to it as it hasn’t seen it in a few hours. The Moon and stars, while not able to provide the light or warmth, will keep this side of Earth company until the Sun returns.

Below is a house, larger than those in the surrounding area, though the closest one is acres beyond it. What’s closest is the land surrounding it, flat and fenced. There grass there looks a little overgrown, weeds sprouting up all over.

In this house are men and women who speak in Russian to one another. Things are scattered everywhere. Old dust is either coating every surface or floating around in the air from where it had been scooped off or blown away by a quick harsh breath to the surface it had been quietly clinging to for months while the house had been empty.

Behind the house is a barn. It’s quite a large barn, two stories, with an open layout. Where it once held tools and stored many other things it now sits empty. For the most part because below this barn is another room. Hidden under hay that had been left behind and not cleaned out is the door to a staircase and a hall that leads to a door. Two men with guns sit outside of it, talking back and forth with one another easily in the same Russian as those above and beyond in the house.

It’s a nice summer evening. The sky turns a soft shade of pink as it says goodbye to the Sun and greets the Moon for their nightly conversation.

Orville can’t see any of this.

All he sees are four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. Empty shelves surrounded him.A door is in front of him. The chair he’s tied down to. His badge for PrideU was off to the side.

Blood.

There was blood everywhere. Down his front, on the rope, on the floor where he had spit it out over and over, after taking hit after hit to the face.

This all blurs as tears, fat and hot, fall over the brims of his eyes. He hates to cry, but he can’t seem to help it, and there’s no one there to see it, either. They’ve left him alone for now with the promise of picking up in a few hours. Where it had taken him months to cry before, it’s only a day now.

Orville looked up at the ceiling and pretended it was the sky for a moment, regretting letting his last few moments with her be occupied with fighting instead of drinking it all in. Stupid to think he would have gotten away. Stupid to think he had escaped at all. It was only a matter of time before they had found him, grabbed him, cramed him back into his cage. He sighed through his nose, the dried blood there itching and he couldn’t even move to scratch it.

His chair had been tipped over on his side when he had been trying to break it, and paid the price when the door had opened. They hadn’t even had the decency to set him back up right. Nothing had changed at all, it would seem.

 BIANCA

It was taking too long.

They had drove through the night, but there was just too much land to cover. When dawn had broken, they had been mostly lost, and she had no idea where the hell they had gone. The trail had gone cold, and so she had turned to the RAS in London to help her out.

They had limited intel, though. They told them to check the farm houses, and so that was the only thing for it. Park down the driveway, work upwards. Most were occupied, funnily enough, by farmers, going about their daily business. None of them seemed suspicious. None of them seemed to be hiding something.

It was as the sun was setting that Bianca found it.

She had procured a pair of binoculars, taking from the front seat of a truck she had passed on one farm; she hated to steal, but she convinced herself that she was only borrowing them. She would take them back as soon as she could. She pulled the car over at the bottom of the long driveway, and looked through the binoculars at the house, filled with people, lights on and moving around, though the farm itself looked abandoned. There was a barn behind it, and Bianca handed the binoculars to Bernard. There was no other farm for quite some distance around.

“What do you think?” She asked. It was already dark out, and so she could spot the lights on the horizon. “I don’t think it’s just a family. I think we’ve found where we need to go.”

 BERNARD

After leaving Orville’s house Bernard had little to no idea what is was they were supposed to do. He was gone, the people who had taken him probably weren’t planning on shooting up a flare gone and hoisting a sign up in the air with an arrow pointing to his location. Bianca had said she didn’t know why they were here, but now it seemed pretty obvious.

The only thing they had, had to go on was the picture that Bianca had been sent of the people who had supposedly taken Orville, but that gave no indication as to where they were hiding out. If they were even hiding out. If they weren’t all the way in friggin’...where were they from again, Russia, right?

Although he’d been assured that if they made a move to get out of the UK the RAS would have known about it, so that really wasn’t the problem. The problem was the two of them trying to find a needle in a haystack. Out there in the farmlands with large stretches of land and plenty of places to be hiding.

And then when the found them? What then? He kept thinking about how the two of them could possibly take on however many of them there were.

That’s what was running over in his mind as he squinted through the binoculars, his glasses pressed against the lenses. She was right. Usually these houses had small amounts of people but he could make out more, all roughly adult looking figures. He shrugged, lowering the binoculars down to look at it from a distance as if that would help him. Could just be a family reunion. Or a party.

“I-I think it’s worth a shot,” he said, pulling his eyes away to face her.

BIANCA

She didn’t exactly want to go in, but she didn’t think that they had a choice.

In fact, she knew that they didn’t. Orville could be in there, and if he was, she was going to get him out. She was going to keep looking - she would search every farm house, she’d search every inch of land, she’d follow the, back to whatever Russian hole they had crawled out of, but she wasn’t returning to Swynlake without Orville in tow.

And Bernard would be coming with her, because Bianca was long past worrying about whether or not he still wanted to be here. She needed a partner for this mission; someone to have her back. She trusted him to be that person.

“Alright,” She said, taking the binoculars back and peering through them again. “We can start with the barn - there seems to be less people there. If it is them, then we want to go as unnoticed as we can, for as long as we can. Don’t shoot unless it’s an absolute necessity.”

She left the keys in the ignition, and the doors unlocked as she slipped out of the vehicle, keeping hold of the binoculars for now. “We’ll go around the back. There might be another way in. If not… we’ll need to take out the guards.” Probably not too hard - so long as they didn’t know they were coming. “Follow me.” She hissed, dropping her voice to a whisper as she climbed over the fence and into the field behind the barn, moving forwards through the overgrown grass.

 BERNARD

He listened to her intently, trying to ignore the sound of his heart as it sped up in his chest. It was distracting and not what he needed to be paying attention to right now. He glanced back and forth between her and the house, the barn, the scene just beyond the windows surrounding them. Bernard made a face at the don’t shoot comment because no, he didn’t want to shoot unless there was no other choice. That hadn’t even crossed his mind until she had handed it to him hours earlier but. Oh hell.

Bianca was opening up the door and-.

This was it. They were getting out of the car. They were going to go look around. The mission was in motion and Bernard was there for it because someone, a sort of friend of his and friend to Bianca, was in danger. As was the rest of the town, potentially, if they didn’t stop them. There was no turning back, this is what he had signed on for.

With one final breath in an attempt to put himself at ease he pushed open the door on his side, and quietly shut it behind him so it didn’t make too much commotion. Bernard followed after Bianca, as she instructed, pausing as he watched her gracefully clear the fence. While he knew he couldn’t do that he also knew he couldn’t just stand there because they’d get separated in the dark so Bernard moved forwards.

It was not as graceful or quick but he did land on his feet instead of his face so he was going to call it a win. He adjusted his glasses when he stood up straight, looked back to the barn in a very, that wasn’t so bad, fashion, and then jogged to catch up to his partner with his back bent a little as he went.

 BIANCA

It was like stretching a muscle she hadn’t exercised in a while; the memories of how to do this were still there, but it had taken her a little while to truly get into the swing of it. Now, though, as she moved through the grass towards the barn, crouched down low to avoid being spotted, she felt… oddly comfortable. She was worried about Orville, about the town, she was angry that the VTM were there, but it was sort of exhilarating. After almost a year of mostly sitting behind a desk, it felt good to stretch.

The barn wasn’t too far, but it still felt like it took forever to reach it. She flattened herself against the wall, the wood rough against the back of her neck, but that wasn’t what was on her mind. She waved Bernard forward, and after a moment, she looked around the corner.

“Two guards this side - I don’t know about the other.” She said. “Looks like most of them are still in the house. We sneak round, we incapacitate them - I’ll take the left, you take the right. Okay?”

 BERNARD

This was kinda weird for Bernard because normally his eyes would be looking down, thinking too much about what they could be stepping on, what could be hidden in the grass that could potentially trip them over. Thinking about how he was getting his trousers and shoes dirty, about the grass brushing against the backs of his legs like slithery creepy creatures. Instead he was thinking about what was ahead of them, about keeping up with Bianca, not the little things that might kill him but more of the big picture.

He held back once they got closer to the barn until she motioned for him to join her. He closed the distance again, stepping up beside her against the barn’s side while trying to stay as small as possible to not draw attention to them.

Bianca’s plan was sound. It would all come down to the execution of it, but he knew if he hesitated or back tracked or over thought it then he was going to fail and all this would be done before it even began. And that just was not an option for anyone here.

“Okay, I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, nodding, and moving around to the other corner as he was having to go the long way around. Bernard looked back to her for a moment, and then disappeared around the barn.

 BIANCA

Bianca had considered the notion that what they might be scurrying up to was just a normal farm. She had considered it, and then immediately dismissed it; the people lingering outside looked too much like your stereotypical Russian gang for them to be any old farming family. The two outside the barn, the two she had plans to incapacitate, were prime examples: tall, broad, crew cuts, wearing all black.

Bianca was quite pleased at having the opportunity to knock them out.

And that was what she did; moving around the wall of the barn she shifted to keep in the shadows. She could only hope that Bernard would be careful, that he would be fast; they would need to do this seamlessly to avoid alerting the others.

She snuck up on the guard, digging her knees into the backs of his to buckle him, and then using the butt of her gun, she smacked him over the head, smiling just a little at the thud he made as he hit the dirt.

She waited a second before appearing from the shadows, only emerging once she had heard another dull thud. “Nice work,” She said to Bernard, smiling ever so slightly still. “Inside,” she hissed, nodding for him to follow as she flicked on her torch. “See anything?”

 BERNARD

He stood at the corner of the barn for a few seconds, swearing to himself under his breath as they were facing in a direction that if he were to step out they would see him coming and all Bernard had was the element of surprise on this guy. He wasn’t sure what to do, willing to just take the risk of getting shot or the guard to yell out for help and expose them but there was a small sound of something hitting dirt that caught the guard’s attention.

Bernard didn’t question it, didn’t think about it. He crept forwards and caught the man around the neck. It wasn’t the most perfect technique on a headlock, but he did manage to get his other hand around the man’s mouth and nose and hold on for dear life as the guard struggled against him.

There was a little bit of a fight, the guard pushing them both back into the wall of the barn so Bernard’s back hit against the side, his arms coming up to hit at Bernard’s arm, his face, bumping his glasses out of place.

When Bianca found them the guard was knocked out due to oxygen deprivation, slumped up against the wall, and Bernard was breathing heavily as he re-adjusted his glasses. Unable to speak, he tiredly pointed at the guard, blinking at him as if he couldn’t believe he just did that by himself, then looked up at Bianca again. But she was already gone. He sighed and followed in after her.

“Uh,” he squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust the much darker air under the barn’s roof. “No. You?”

 BIANCA

She was proud of him, as it happened. She just didn’t have the time now to tell him, to really let him know; she would tell him later, once all of this was over, and her friend and the town were safe again.

Looking into the barn, Bianca shone the torch around, looking for something — what, she wasn’t entirely sure, but something. She shook her head, her frown deepening. “No.” She said. “Nothing.”

The barn looked the same inside as it appeared from the outside: abandoned. Sort of dilapidated. Nothing special, and thus, the perfect place to hide a victim.

“Look around,” She said, “There has to be another door, a hatch, maybe. They wouldn’t send guards to look at stand by an empty building - there has to be something here.”

 BERNARD

Bernard had really been banking on Orville being in the barn so it was disappointing to find the place empty. And by empty, it was really and truly empty. Nothing but the structure itself and the air that hung around inside it growing old. No kidnapped janitor tied up somewhere like some kind of horror movie. Which was both a bad and a good thing. Mostly bad, considering they hadn’t found him and the odd of him being in the house with the rest of these people was growing in size.

But Bianca was right, it wouldn’t make any sense sense for them to just be hanging out by the barn standing watch over the exit if there was nothing to be guarding inside. Or maybe they were keeping something from getting out.

His head was tilted upwards trying to see upwards at the upper level of the barn. Bernard had to take a few steps back in order to see over the edge of the balcony. Maybe they were hiding some kind of weapons up there, or-.

Not looking where he was going Bernard tripped over several pieces of discarded wood. He fell hard on to his back, his hands reacting and sticking out behind him to try and catch on something but there was nothing but the solid ground.

So solid, in fact, that it gave of a more metallic sound that echoed instead of the grass and pact dirt that only gave off soft reverberance. He winced, shutting his eyes tightly against the sound until it faded away with the rest of the evening’s sounds. Bernard cracked one eye open and looked around, waiting for some kind of negative consequence, but when none came he turned himself over in order to push himself to his feet via the help of his knees and hands.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “my bad. I didn’t know they uh, made barns with met-metal floors.”

 BIANCA

She had been turned away when she heard the noise, and she had about jumped out of her skin, whirling round to see what the help was going on, already reaching for her gun—

And then her eyes landed on Bernard getting to his feet, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She quickly looked out of the barn, but the noise had seemingly gone unnoticed; Bianca came back inside, narrowing her eyes a little, shaking her head. “They don’t.” She answered, moving closer, setting the torch between her teeth so she could look.

She had to sweep away some dirt and dust, but the metal glinted beneath her palm once it was clear. She looked at Bernard for a moment, and then looked back at the hatch, setting the torch on the ground now so that she could fiddle with the latch. It was old, rusted, but not locked.

Bianca lifted it, slowly, the hinges creaking as she did so. She looked briefly behind her, to make sure no one had heard, but at this point she wasn’t sure she cared.

The inside was dark, and even dustier than the door had been; when she shone her eyes torch down into it she could see steps, stairs leading down to… something.

Orville, maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

Bianca looked once more to Bernard, and then began to descend, torch clasped in one hand and gun in the other.

 BERNARD

Bernard looked at her in confusion because, well what else could it have been? Just a sheet of metal lying on the ground? Maybe from marking the roof or something the owners had just forgotten?

He watched carefully from off to the side where he had moved to get out of her way. Her hands brushed off the debris and he wasn’t even thinking about how dirty it was, just about how there was a trap door in the ground. When she looked up at him Bernard gave her a little shrug and frown as if to say, ‘I dunno.’

It could have been nothing, it could have been a coincidence, but as Bianca set down her flashlight so its light was less concentrated he could see around the door where it had been in use as of recently. The indentations in the dirt, where the excess hay had been moved around from where the door had rested back.

His eyebrows rose when it opened to reveal stairs. Bernard didn’t even think about protesting when she started down them into the dark and scary nothingness down below. He followed instead. Hand touching the wall as he went in order to keep his balance. Expecting dirt when what he got felt smooth, almost like concrete.

When they touched down from the stairs the ceiling was a whole lost closer to his head but the width of it was enough to where he could stand next to her and not be touching. A little ways in was another door, this time standing up right. He moved forwards first, her hands both occupied, and took hold of the padlock that was keeping an obviously newly installed latch closed, its metallic shine was far brighter in comparison to the rest of the door. Bernard looked back at Bianca, the question of what now? on his face.

 BIANCA

She was surprised to hit another door, and Bianca brought her free hand up to touch her, her brow furrowed ever so slightly. It had been used lately, she could tell by the way it glinted in the light, and the tracks through the dust on the floor. This is what they had been guarding - there would be something behind this door that was valuable, or illegal, or both.

She waited for Bernard to open it, and then looked at the padlock with a sigh.

Further proof that the door had been used recently, but a hindrance to them both. She thought about it for a moment, weighed their options, and then handed him the torch, shifting the gun in her hands. “Keep the light on the lock,” she instructed. “And I’m sorry about your ears.”

Bianca took a deep breath in, aimed, and then exhaled, squeezing the trigger. The small chamber exploded with noise, a noise Bianca could only hope hadn’t been heard by the people in the house, but when she stepped forward, ears ringing, she found the padlock broken in two.

Hanging onto the gun, she reached out one hand to push the door open, slowly and carefully. If there was anyone in there, they could be about to rush them - she kept her arms locked, gun pointed in front of her as she edged into the room.

There was only one person waiting, though.

“Orville!”

 ORVILLE

The sounds just outside the door had not been lost on Orville. He had been trying, and failing to sleep when he heard the creaking that usually meant they were coming.  He had watched on in anxious anticipation from where he was, tossed over onto the ground.  His breathing had sped up, his chest straining against the ropes tied there as he tried to get his lungs to full capacity, gearing himself up for either finally being moved or for another session of torture and pain. There were footsteps, and had he been in the right state of mind he might have noticed how they weren’t as heavy as the ones that usually trampled down the stairs and the little hall to get to him. They were softer, like they didn’t want to be heard at all.

He flinched violently at the sound that he knew to be gunfire, shutting his eyes against it. Orville struggled against his bindings again, his wrists raw, his legs barely able to move at all. He couldn’t really feel his feet as the ropes were so tight they were almost cutting off the circulation. Why they were shooting in the hallway he didn’t know. Could only guess they were here to kill him. Or put a bullet somewhere they knew wouldn’t and leave him down here until he did while they made their escape.

And then the door was opening, and someone said his name. It sounded familiar, but--

His eyes opened, squinting against the bright light as they kept him in the dark until they’d bring in lamps to see what they were doing to him, so all he could really make out was two dark figures. He tried to scramble back, the foot closer to the ground kicking to get away. Though he knew it was pointless. He wasn’t going to escape them. He was never going to escape them.

 BERNARD

He took the flashlight from her, but didn’t catch on to her meaning until she was cocking the gun. Bernard jumped out of the way and held the light on the lock, looking back and forth between it and her. He shot her a confused look because? What? His ears? Why would he-?

Then she pulled the trigger and his eyes closed, shoulders tensing up. He blinked after a moment, opening his mouth slightly to move his jaw round as his ears rang. Right. He had forgotten about how loud that was since he usually wore the ear muffs that blocked it out for the most part.

Bernard followed in after her, letting out a relieved breath when he, too, saw Orville. He shined the light on him, bringing his other hand to clap over his mouth at the sight of the other man. Tied up in a chair looking like he’d had the life kicked out of him. Even more so when he tried to shrink back away from them. Just to see what kind of pain these people had inflicted was horrifying. They needed to get him out of here, get him some medical help because there was blood all over his face.

Only he didn’t look like he was happy to see them, and he didn’t know how to approach something like that. With him struggling he didn’t want to go cutting at his binds. He glanced at Bianca, unsure of how to approach without anyone getting hurt.

 BIANCA

There were many things that flashed through her mind in that split second, the light turning to Orville, illuminating him in the darkness.

The first was the mere fact that he was there. That they had found him. She hadn’t left him this time, she hadn’t let him go so easily. Then, of course, there was the blood. And the blood was everywhere - the smell of it, metallic, copper-like, mingled with the smell of the mold from the walls and the dust in the air. It was down his front, on the floor— but he was alive, squinting through the light, and that was enough.

“Don’t point the torch directly at him,” she told Bernard, moving forward slowly. “And keep a look out for anyone coming - they might’ve heard the shot.”

In all likelihood they had, and that meant that Bianca needed to move quickly. She moved over to Orville, at first kneeling beside him, careful and gentle as her hand met his shoulder. “Orville, it’s me. It’s Bianca. I’m going to untie you, okay? Then we’re going to get out of here. No hanging around today.”

She made no false promises, didn’t tell him that it would be okay, or that they would all get out just fine. Orville wasn’t stupid, and neither was she, nor Bernard; all three knew that this was going to be ugly. But getting Orville untied, getting him to his feet - that was a good start, at least.

Bianca took the Swiss Army knife from her pocket, flicked the blade into place, and got to work cutting the ropes.

 ORVILLE

The light moved away, blue and black dots blinking in his vision instead. His hands had curled into fists, trying to wriggle away from the chair’s arms, his feet doing the same where they were pinned against the legs. Why he still continued to fight was always a mystery. Even to himself, he wished he had the self awareness to just stop. Yet no matter how many times he told himself to give up, that this was his life now, he always tried to fight back. As if he had to prove he wasn’t going to go down so easily.

Didn’t really matter though. In the end, he was already dead.

His eyes were still adjusting to the change in light so when someone touched his shoulder he reacted violently, jerking his shoulder at much as the restraints would allow him to try and get away. He didn’t want it dislocated, he didn’t want it impaled with anything, didn’t want the barrel of a gun pointed into it to tear it apart by a bullet.  His breathing was still heavy, coming in and out through gritted teeth.

Then the voice came again, and he turned his head to look at who was speaking to figure out why they sounded so familiar. Finally his vision stopped swimming, he was sure they’d given him a concussion within the second hour he’d been here, and he focused in on their face.

“Bianca?” he whispered, because his throat had been scratched up from all his screaming and attempts to silence his wounded noises.  He didn’t believe in what he was seeing, hearing, because it couldn’t be her.  He had told her he was leaving. That she shouldn’t look for him after, and that had been the end of that. For a moment he thought he had finally gone mad.  Dreaming of escaping shouldn’t have been until a few weeks had passed by, at the least.

It wasn’t until he felt the ropes give under her knife did it click that this was really happening because it hurt for the ropes to let go of him, for his limbs to move out of the positions they had been forced into for hours.  Normally in dreams he couldn’t feel the pain.

 BERNARD

As soon as Bianca said something he moved the light, feeling terrible for having probably blinded the guy. It was just such a shocking sight to see someone like that, hear the ragged breathing. No amount of training or reading or research could have prepared him for it. He knew the risks, and he had heard stories of past missions, but it was something entirely different to see it with his own eyes. Especially when the only other times he had seen the man had been when he was smiling, or scowling, or poking fun. Not tied up to a chair with blood and sweat and dirt stuck to his face.  

But he couldn’t get emotional right now, couldn’t get too into his own head right now, there would be plenty of time for that later when they made it out of there.

Bianca was a sobering presence. He took a breath, nodding, and turned back to keep look out from the doorway. He kept the light just above his head tilted down to imitate what a lamp would do for the room, casting a wider net so he could see while also allowing Bianca and Orville that luxury, too. Bernard glanced back and forth between the two scenes, cursing the people with how much rope she was having to cut through.

He had known going in that these people were bad, it was only now that it clicked just how ruthless they were. It fueled him with anger, with the need to take these people down once and for all. He may not have had as big a stake in this as the two agents in front of him, but Bernard didn’t like bullies. People who thought they could get away with hurting someone else for their own gain, whatever it may be, and that’s all these people were.

 BIANCA

Bianca cut him free, removing the bits of rope and tossing them aside. “I’m going to help you up now, okay? It’s going to be hard, but we have to go. We have to go right now.”

She knew he would know that already, but as if to punctuate her statement, there was a yell from outside, garbled, gruff Russian that she couldn’t decipher. “We need to get out of the room.” She said, looking to the stairs and back again. She could let Bernard handle it, but she would feel a lot better if she did it herself.

“Bernard,” She called, a little more hushed than usual. “Help him out. I’ll go first.”

 ORVILLE

When the tension on the ropes released he flopped with a lack of grace, his jaw clenched as he pushed out air at the pain from moving unexpectedly.  He just wanted to press his face back down into the dirt and sleep for the rest of his life. There was no end to his exhaustion, no relief came immediately. It was only more anxiety, more nerves. He felt like he was going to be sick, surprised he hadn’t been already.

He wanted to leave, he did, and he was screaming internally at his limbs to move, god dammit, move already. But they only did so in a sluggish fashion, stiff muscles trying to come back to life while the flair of pain kept other parts from wanting to be quick about it. His skin didn’t even feel right, warmed to an uncomfortable temperature without relief and tight. Dried blood had crusted over, making even his facial movements uncomfortable. Orville sat up, moving out of the chair. He was leaning to one side heavily as his muddied brain tried to catch up with the rest of him.

The sounds of the people who had done this to him gave him a sudden jump start, adrenaline kicking into his system once more. Using the chair he got himself to his feet, an arm coming up wrap around his middle.

“Bernard?” he repeated because, he knew that name, too. He followed Bianca as she went until it passed over to the other man’s movements, squinting at him as he came closer. “Hey, aren’t you--?”

 BERNARD

His eyes shot up at the sound of people approaching. Their time was up, they needed to move. Now.

Bernard was already moving before Bianca could finish her suggestion. It only made sense, she was the better shot, the better fighter, and Bernard was more cushioned for someone to lean on. He gripped the flashlight with one hand, moving around to Orville’s side so he could get his arm wrapped around the man’s back, and get Orville’s arm draped around Bernard’s shoulders so he could take most of the weight off of him. Ideally he would have just thrown Orville over his shoulders and carried him out of here like all the heroes in the movies but he didn’t have that kind of strength. Instead he held on tightly to Orville’s wrist with the hand still holding the flashlight.  He glanced up from what he was doing as Orville looked at him in confusion and held his stare.

“Yeah,” he confirmed,  already knowing what Orville was thinking despite the words not coming out quite yet. “No time to explain, come on.”

Using his legs for the most part he pushed both his weight and Orville’s up, having to bend his back forwards slightly to compensate for the other. He walked forwards in short and choppy steps to keep them from tripping over one another.

 BIANCA

Bianca was more than ready for a fight.

And she had the advantage of surprise; the man who had yelled was the first to come looking, and by hiding in the shadow the staircase Bianca managed to punch him in the nose and knock him back against the wall, which was all well and good, if he had been the only one.

As it happened, he was just one of many.

“Follow me,” Bianca called behind her, expecting Bernard and Orville, by extension, to do what she said. “And stay close.”

It was the last thing she said before she charged up the staircase, tossing up the lamp the Russian had been carrying to illuminate the dark and dusty barn. There was someone just in the doorway, half-lit by the lamp he carried, too, and Bianca grit her teeth. It was always going to end in a fight, wasn’t it?

 ORVILLE

Orville starred at the other man in complete disbelief, wanting to ask how he got wrapped up in all of this, and a few other million questions, but then Bernard was moving them forwards and he could do nothing but follow along beside him. They’d left his legs alone at the least, having paid too much attention to smashing his hands and trying to get his face into something that wouldn’t be recognized.  

He watched on as one of the men came down the stairs, as Bianca made contact. An unexpected, ‘oof,’ came out of his mouth as he heard the sound the man’s nose made, his own scrunching up to which he regretted because it had taken several hits now. Orville hadn’t seen her in action in years, and not that he doubted her abilities, but she was just as impressive as he remembered. Himself on the other hand…

As they followed her up the stairs he was coming to terms with the fact that they weren’t going to make it out of here alive. Not like this. One person fighting who knew how many men and women while the other two were sat back watching her do it.

Didn’t matter how hurt he was or how much his brain was reacting as if it were made of scrambled eggs, the only way they’d make it was if they all held their own.

“Us, too, then,” he said, patting a hand at Bernard’s chest to indicated that he should let him go. “Can’t let the lass take all the credit should we somehow make it out of here in one piece.”

 BERNARD

He only had time to blink before Bianca had the guy who came looking for them was knocked into the wall. There wasn’t any time for him to stare in awe because he was having to carry himself and Orville up the stairs after Bianca.

Orville’s thinking was similar to Bernard’s. There was no way they were going to be able to outrun these people. They couldn’t even make it out the door because of the whole scary group of trained kidnappers and killers standing in their way. And because he was having to keep Orville standing he couldn’t help his partner.

It was a terrible situation, one he didn’t know what to do in. Orville, though, made the call for him with the hits to Bernard’s chest. He turned to look at him, feeling the other start to pull away.

He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to put him in danger again after all he had just been through, but Orville was right. If he wanted to help Bianca, and if they wanted to make it out of this barn tonight they were going to have to work together.

“Do we have a plan?” he asked, stepping up next to Bianca with his eyes focused on the people at the door..   

 BIANCA

Her fist was aching, but she was doing her best to not to show it.

Did they have a plan? She was thinking about it. Calculating it just as she stood there, looking at the door, at the mob gathering behind it. There was only really one plan: fight.

“Give Orville your gun,” she said, her voice low and her words fast. “We’re all going to need to fight. Just keep pushing forward - make it to the long grass and keep running. And if you see Evgeniya?” She paused, looking between the two of them. “You leave her to me.”

ORVILLE

He shuffled forwards to Bianca’s other side, looking between her and Bernard. He was right there with her, there was no time ta sit around the table and work out a plan. Sometimes the only thing you could do in this line of work was grit your teeth, throw a punch, and hope to God it landed.

Orville kept his gaze on Bianca when she said that name, eyes narrowing as she let it linger in the air against the movements going on outside. Her finishing statement caught him by surprise, eyebrows pulling together.

“Bianca,” he said before she started off he grabbed onto her elbow, pulling her back. He paused, too, letting out a breath. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, but they’d run out of time for any of it.  So he settled on what mattered the most, “Thank you.”  

 BERNARD

Bianca gave instructions and, you know, Bernard wasn’t really the one to question her since this wasn’t her first rodeo. No pun intended. But trying to fight their way out seemed like a terrible idea. He looked around for a moment, trying to see if there was any other exit from the barn, while Orville spoke to Bianca.

When he saw no alternative, as the other two had already long figured out, he pulled the gun from the back of his pants and then moved forwards, holding it out for Orville to take.

Not even a second after the gun was out of his hand someone yelled something and several men ran in. Bernard, not really thinking passed the whole we’re all going to need to fight moved first, turning to meet him before he could get to the other two, his arms coming up to wrap around him, dipping his shoulder into the guy’s middle and pushing him into a wooden beam. Both of them let out grunts upon impact.

 BIANCA

It would probably take a lot for them to bring the ring leader out amongst the rabble, but Bianca meant it - if they saw Evgeniya, she was going to be the one to engage. She was going to be the one to put an end to her, lock her up or take her down, whichever. It was entirely personal, for many different reasons, most of them selfish in some way.

Yet, when Orville say thank you, it didn’t feel too selfish. She gave him a small smile, a nod, but she didn’t have time to speak; their time was well and truly up, as it happened.

With Bernard taking out the first goon that had ran after them, Bianca moved for the next one, grabbing his wrist and twisting until their gun skittered to the ground and she could bring her other elbow up, into his face. She had seen Bernard fall, but she had no time to react; just as soon as she’d dropped the first man to attack her another one charged, and Bianca reached for her gun - she didn’t want to use it, no, but she didn’t seem to have much choice.

 ORVILLE He turned to Bernard, his hand on the barrel of the gun at the same time Bernard had his on the grip to exchange it when the fighting started. It seemed as though the opposition had made the decision to fight, too. Orville watched on, as he was a bit stunned as the man, who was usually a soft spoken, took the first hit, followed quickly Bianca. When he looked up there was someone running at him, too. He was slow to his reaction time, the only thing he was able to do in the split second was raise his arm up in defense, bending down behind it to protect his head as the man tackled him around the waist

Being smashed to the ground and a large weight landing on top of him wasn’t the most pleasant of things, especially with his torso was already in enough pain from prior damage. He brought the hand up that he’d gripped the gun with up to take aim but the man was already sitting up. Seeing the movement from the corner of his eye he knocked the gun from Orville’s hand sending it sliding across the barn floor out of range

The man landed a few hits to Orville’s chest and face, and he yelled out at the pain. Knowing he couldn’t take much more of it, his brain getting antsy from being pinned down by the weight, Orville waited until the man pulled back to wind up for another punch. When he saw it coming back down he moved his head at the last second letting the man’s hand come down into the ground at full force next to his ear. The man pulled back, clutching his hand to his chest, and Orville rolled them over. They landed and Orville moved until he was on his back so he could smash his elbow into the man’s face.

The man went limp and Orville got to one knee, looking in the direction the gun had went off to. When he went to stand someone was grabbing him by his hair and pulled him backward to throw on to his back against the ground.  

BERNARD

Bernard and the guy he’d pushed into the wooden beam slid to the ground. The man because the back of his head and spine had taken a hard hit to the wood and Bernard because his weight had been depending on the other guy to hold him up.

Both of them had a moment to pause, taking panting breaths as they rolled away from one another, groaning. Bernard looked up at the commotion behind him, both Orville and Bianca in their own altercations. He pushed himself back to his feet in order to help.

But only got as far as one step in their direction, mainly in Orville’s because he looked like he was having far more trouble than Miss Bianca, before someone caught him by the ankle and pulled his leg out from under him. He fell onto his stomach, his chin bouncing off the dirt. Bernard looked back to find the Russian he’d grinning at him. Then he reached forwards for Bernard’s calf, yanking him back. In a panic Bernard’s other leg came up and he kicked at the man’s face. His heel landed hard on the man’s nose, making his head snap back and hand let go of Bernard’s foot. Bernard rolled over onto his back and kicked again, getting him in the throat.

 BIANCA

A shot in the knee, not lethal by most standards but hopefully enough to keep him down - or maybe not. As he fell he lunged at Bianca, fists flying, catching her as she dove to the side and landed heavily on the concrete floor. The punch to her ribs and the impact jarred her right down to her bones, and the hesitation that followed gave him ample time to reach for her ankle, trying to pull her along the ground towards him.

Thank god for the jacket; without the leather she knew her skin would have been raw, something else to distract her. Bianca twisted at the waist, bringing her other leg up to kick at him, hitting first his shoulder and then his ribs as she was drawn closer. She had dropped the gun when she fell, and she was too far too reach it now; she flipped herself over, his grip on her ankle slackening as she knocked her knees into his chest to wind him.

She wrenched herself free as soon as she could, head turning to assess what was going on - more people coming, Bernard seemingly handling himself, and Orville being dragged to the ground. Bianca went to help but there was that hand on her ankle again, pulling her down. She only narrowly managed to avoid smacking her face off the concrete before she was being turned over, hands grappling at her face, and then at her neck, squeezing…

 ORVILLE

His hands came up in reflex, trying to claw away the hand pulling him by his hair and keep the tension on it loose so it didn’t rip the chunk they had ahold of from his scalp. They didn’t let go at his nails digging into their skin or the heel of his hand driving into their wrist over and over. He went about thrashing around, kicking his legs, tilting himself from side to side as he was dragged along the ground. Nothing was working, and he was panicking.

He looked around in his frantic state, one hand darting out to snag on one of those wooden beams, clutching onto the corner of it. The man pulling him jerked to a stop, releasing his grip on Orville’s hair. He turned around, getting up to face the man. Orville shoved his had under the man’s chin so his head was forced to tilt back as Orville moved forwards, making him stumble back in sync.  The man reached around to get his gun from its holster at his waist. And Orville latched onto his wrist as he pulled the gun out. Seeing no other option, both hands occupied, he head butted the man’s hand which forced him to drop the gun. Then came back up to land a firm punch to the side of his head.

The man fell limp to the floor, and Orville turned back, seeing the man on top of Bianca. He moved forwards, but was caught around his shoulder and chest. Orville used the momentum to turn the both of them and drive the person into the ground with his shoulder digging into their sternum, something cracking loudly in the person’s chest when they landed.  

 BERNARD

Finally the man let go of him and Bernard turned over to get up. One knee pressed into the ground as the other was bent, his foot ready to push him up so he could be standing on his feet once more. But he was panting, trying to get his breathing back to something normal and had to pause for a moment, his elbow against his thigh and looked ahead of him.

His eyes locked in on a man looking down at Bianca, his hands wrapped around her neck. Before he knew it he was on his feet, running full force into the man on top of her. It was nothing graceful or with any technique, just Bernard throwing himself at the guy. His hands grabbed at the fabric of his clothing as he made contact to ensure that he would come with him as he kept moving.

They landed on the ground, Bernard on top of him. The pair paused at the initial pain, then the man looked to the side. Bernard followed his eyes to find the gun that had been knocked from Bianca’s grasp. They looked back at one another, thinking the same thing, and reached at the same time. The man grabbed a hold of it first and Bernard took hold of his wrist, knocking it into the ground to make him let go. They both tried again, reaching for it, fingers only just brushing against the handle now.

 BIANCA

She just needed to get her knees up. Knees up and push them into his chest, sending him sailing backwards. Hopefully that would be the end of it, and she could go, help whoever needed helping, but it was a lot easier said than done. She pushed at his face, fingers scrabbling at his eyes, at his neck, trying to gain some distance—

And just like that he was gone, and Bianca lay back against the concrete for just a moment, catching her breath. “Az istenit,” she groaned, pushing herself first to her knees and then to her feet. She looked at Bernard and the stubborn bastard who wouldn’t leave them alone, and then snatched the gun from both their reaching hands. A second to aim and another to pull the trigger; Bianca really, really had wanted to do this without the guns, but he hadn’t given her much choice.

She glanced to the entrance of the barn. there seemed to be a gap, a sudden stop in the flow of people coming in from the house. Now was their chance - it had to be now, and they had to be fast.

“We have to go,” she called, looking back at the two of them, lit dully by the lamps inside the barn. “Now! Come on!”

 ORVILLE

He rolled off the man when he was sure there were no sign of the man getting back up to fight since he was too busy groaning at the pain that consumed him with every breath he took. Orville wanted to lay there and do the same, let the aching and the sharp jabs take over until he passed out. But it wasn’t an option. He knew as soon as he gave into feeling it that he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

The gunshot that fired off and it was the wake up call he needed. As was Bianca’s voice that sliced through the ringing in his ears. It sounded like she was talking behind a thick layer of glass but he got the gist of it. Go and Now. He got to his feet, swaying until his shoulder bumped into the beam to keep him on him up right. Orville blinked widely to get the black dots coming in and out of his vision to stop.

He pushed himself away from the beam, touching it until it was out of range, and started off towards the exit of the barn. At first at a slow, limping walk, until he worked his way up to an alright running speed.

 BERNARD

Just as Bernard watched the other man’s finger catch hold of the gun the shot rang out making him flinch, eyes shutting tight. Below him the man went limp which made Bernard open his eyes slowly, turning his head to look down at him. Blood was pooling around him and he paused for a second before standing up slowly. His chest rose and fell in large movements as he breathed in deeply. A hand came up to brush against his forehead to wipe the sweat that had formed. He kept his eyes on the body for another moment until Bianca said they’d better get going because, yeah, he wasn’t arguing there.

Bernard searched the barn with his eyes, relieved to see that Bianca on her feet again and that Orville was alright. With one last glance down at the man he followed the other two to the doors.

 BIANCA

Bianca took the lead, pushing through the overgrown grass. It would be easy to trip, to fall, but she kept her sight set dead ahead, on the car that subtly glistened in the waning moonlight.

Thank god no one had noticed it. Of course, maybe they had - they could have slashed the tires, taken the keys, and she would never have known from that far away.

But once she got there, tearing the door open and looking inside, she found the key just where she had left it. There were shouts from the barn, far-away sounding now that they had put some distance between them and it, and they only increased Bianca’s sense of urgency. “Come on - get in. Before they notice the car!”

 ORVILLE

The first thing Orville did when he got out from underneath the roof of the barn was look up. The sky was dark, a few clouds running by, and it was possibly the most gorgeous version of it he had ever seen. The fresh air going in and out of his lungs ached yet he couldn’t seem to get enough.

He had no idea where they were going, he was just following behind the other two blindly in the hopes that they still knew what they were doing. They had gotten him this far and that voice in the back of his mind that usually told him to not trust anyone, especially those involved with the RAS, was quiet. Silenced by the louder voices trying to tell him to not look back, keep running, just a little further, almost, almost.

Orville, clumsy man that he was in his right mind, couldn’t come to a halt when they led him to the car, so he allowed it to do that for him. He hit the back door, grabbing hold of the handle as he bounced off so it would open with his movements. It slammed shut behind him.

 BERNARD

He only managed to trip the once half way back to the car, but he’d kept his feet. Just a little stumble through the tall grass, up and over the fence, and there it was. Waiting for them to get back so it could drive them back to town and away from this place.

After a little bit of struggle against the door handle, because his hands were shaking and sweating and all of a sudden a very simple task of opening the car door turned into the most difficult thing he could possibly be doing in that moment. But, finally, despite the shouting and the sounds of grass moving against the people surely chasing after them, he got it open and sat down in the passenger seat.

And then he began the struggle with the seat belt as he watched the beams from flashlights moving through the grass towards them.

 BIANCA

She didn’t wait for car doors to shut or for seat belts to click into place; as soon as everyone was in the car Bianca threw it into gear and pulled away, leaving the shouting and the flashlights in the rear view mirror.

She didn’t have a plan from here on out; drive until they could lose them, and then return to Swynlake, maybe. Get in touch with the RAS in London, tell them to go and investigate the farm - it was the beginning of a plan. She glanced across at Bernard, and then in the mirror at Orville. “Is anyone hurt? Besides the obvious?”

 ORVILLE

For the most part, Orville still really didn’t believe that he was free. And he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. Not until the VTM were permanently disbanded or he was actually dead. But for now he guessed he would be alright. The tight confines of the car weren’t even enough to stress him. Then again, maybe he was just too tired to notice.

Finally it seemed like he was in the presence of people who didn’t make his heart spike in paranoia or fear. He felt settled. Safe, almost. Something he hadn’t felt in...years. Orville smiled tiredly at her question, chuckled even though it hurt like hell. But everything hurt so it didn’t make all that much of a difference. Leaning into the door heavily with his head propped up by the window, his eyes closed. All the exhaustion and pain muddied up his mind, got caught in the gears to make them come to a slow crawl. Didn’t matter, he was fading too fast to be thinking about anything.

 BERNARD

Bernard finally got the seat belt to click and sat back against the seat and just breathed, eyes closed, arms laying limply wherever they fell at his sides. One eye opened to look at her sideways as she asked that. He heard Orville’s laugh and, after a second of looking at him over his shoulder and then resettling facing forwards, Bernard smiled, too, because, hey. They did it. They actually did it. They were riding in a car, not dead, and with Orville in the back seat. A bit battered, but still kicking.

“I’m okay,” he nodded, pushing himself up in his seat and turning to look at her. “Are you okay? I mean is your-?”

He squinted at her neck, touching his own out of sympathy.

 BIANCA

She quietly cataloged her own bruised, her own injuries. She had been hit a fair few times, her ribs protesting when she reached for the gearbox - maybe fractured, maybe just badly bruised. She wasn’t sure.

Her neck— it was dark in the car, but Bianca could already see the bruises forming. Thick, long bruised which would no doubt be bright purple in an hour or two.

“I’m okay.” She assured Bernard, giving him a small smile. “I’ll drive until I’m sure they aren’t following, and then I’ll take us home.”

[moonstonecollins]

[orvilleright-blog1]

Lost Signal -One Shot-

Takes place right after this thread.

Orville gets taken prisoner again. 

TW: it’s too LONG for one, violence, blood, claustrophobia, mentions of torture, thoughts of suicide, suggested murder, bad writing, and Google Translated Russian. 

His feet hit the pavement hard, soles touching down to propel his weight forwards.

He had started out walking. His eyes trained on Bianca, trying to find her tell to know if she was lying when she had said that she wouldn’t come after him, and when he hadn’t found it he left without looking back. The walk across the tile of the corridor had turned into a job as the Exit came into view, and when the warmed summer night air had touched his cheeks, reminding him that it was at stake of being taken away from him, he took off at a sprint.

He didn’t stop until he was forced to on his front porch, struggling to shove the key into the door knob. His fingers were trembling so it made the whole affair take more time than needed which made him curse and drop the keys so they clattered on the ground. He bent down to get them and took in a deep breath.

Now was not the time to get frantic, he couldn’t afford to waste any more time than he already had arguing with Bianca about this. He still really had no idea if she had been telling him that Voskhodyashchaya t'ma were on their way was real, but he wasn’t willing to take that risk. There was no reason to. No matter how much he liked Swynlake, no matter how much he liked his job, and this house, whatever he owed this town, he didn’t care then. He wasn’t going back in that box.

The door was shoved open and slammed shut behind him as he shot through the house. His sweep of the rooms had turned up empty. There was no one else there but him.

Orville got to work.

He pulled the suitcase down from its hiding place in his bedroom closet, because in plain sight had never gone out of style, setting it onto the bed in order to unzip it and double check that everything he needed was still securely inside.

Legal papers, clothing, shoes, food, water, money, basic set of toothbrush and toothpaste. Everything he needed in order to start new.

He was ready to go, pulling the zipper with shaky fingers around the small shape of the suitcase, but first he needed to change. If he was given the time he didn’t want anything tying him back to this place and likewise he didn’t want anything to the University tied to him. They had done nothing wrong by him, there was no reason to put them in danger by keeping their name over his heart on the way to another country.

As he pulled a shirt from the closet he heard the door downstairs burst open.

He froze at first, his stomach dropping like a trap door opened up at the first impact against the wood. Then the voices started up in hardened Russian that grew louder and louder. His eyes turned towards the window at first but knew he would never make it out without them getting there first. Orville turned, grabbing the suitcase and ducked into the closet, shutting the door behind him.

The Russian turned into whispers. Loud booted footsteps diminished to the creak of wood as weight pushed against the floor boards, making them whine out in protest.

Orville stayed silent, pressing back until his back brushed against the wall. They felt like they were closing in around him, the small area making it hard to breathe all of a sudden. He hadn’t been in an area this small since he had broken out. He never dared use an elevator, he didn’t walk into fitting rooms, and he always had the door to this closet opened when he was using it. He bit down on his tongue, pulling fistfuls of the fabric of his trousers at his thighs to try and keep from hyperventilating. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get the heck out of there before there was no air left, he reached forwards.  

The small taps of the rubber soles got closer making the sounds of metal being shifted in someone’s grasp that much easier to hear.

He stopped breathing at the tell of the squeaky hinge of his bedroom door. The carpet moved, as did the air as the person moved through the room. Orville kept his eyes on their shadow as it passed on the floor at his feet. It moved to the left, stopped, the metal tapping against the frame of his bed. The soft whisper of fabric moving made it through the door to his ears.

The shadow kept moving until it was out of sight. Beside him he could hear the door to the adjoining bathroom move, the change to tile making their movements easier to hear. The shower curtain moved, a cabinet door was opened, and Orville looked around for something to use as a weapon.

He wasn’t stupid, thanks, he knew what was coming. They would open the door and they would find him, but here he had the element of surprise at the least. He would know what was coming when they opened the door, they wouldn’t.

There was nothing there, though. An Agent he may have been, but he didn’t have any proper weapons in the house. Nothing but the butter knives down stairs.

Orville had been too scared to touch a gun, afraid of who might get caught in the crossfire if he were to ever have a break and it be in reach. He knew nothing good would come of a weapon in his hands so he hadn’t prepared with them.

The shadow came back into view, moving back to the right towards the exit. His heart steadied in his chest for the first time that night. He looked up as it stopped in front of the door.

Slowly the door knob turned and the door was pulled opened. Orville didn’t wait.

He bent his knees and shoved himself forwards, tackling the person to the ground with proper form. Their back hit the ground and he pushed himself up with his palms against the carpet so he could latch onto the gun that was lying across their body.

They both struggled with it, moving this way and that as each tried to pull the weapon from the other’s grip.

“он здесь!” the man yelled, struggling as Orville dug his knee into the place between his ribs. “он здесь!”

It was evened out for a moment, both men’s strength unable to overpower the others like the world’s worst game of tug-of-war. Orville had the advantage of height, more room to work with, so he twisted it until one of the man’s hands had to give at the awkward angle. With two to one he could pull it from the other hand and use the butt of it to smash down into the man’s nose before he could reach up to retaliate.

He breathed heavily for a moment before emptying the gun with a practiced ease, as if he had been doing it the whole time he had been away from the RAS’s training, and tossed it to the side. There was shouting going on in other parts of the house but Orville wasn’t there to eavesdrop, the window was waiting for him now.

Orville dove for it, saying hell to the suitcase. His hands were still shaking, slipping this way and that as he tried to unlock the latch on the window. He glanced up helplessly at the door, having not thought to lock it just to give himself an extra precious second to escape.

They were no longer trying to be quiet, their prey had been forced to make its move and there was no point. They both knew they were there. Hiding was a lost cause now.

The lock clicked open, and he tried to pry the window up but the sweat on his palms against the slick glass made it harder than usual. Orville cursed until he could finally get his fingers underneath it to push it up, just enough to get his hands under and shove up.

He jumped out, landing unceremoniously in the shrub just below, just as the rest of the crew was running into his room. Someone yelled and he didn’t bother to look over his shoulder to see who it was. Orville moved until he was on his feet and went to take off where the dark and open night would give him enough shielding to get away from them.

But something pulled him back, a heavy weight on his waist. He looked down at his hip where a branch was clutching onto a belt loop on his trousers. His eyes cut upwards to make eye contact with one of the men in his bedroom. They all paused, all thinking the same thing; un-fucking-believable.

The man ran towards him, arm outstretched, and Orville pulled away, his feet digging into the ground. The branch tore the loop from its seams, the top stitching giving way to his will, and the momentum he had built up sent him to the ground. He felt the brush of fingertips on his arm as he went down.

He didn’t pause to relish in the pain or stop to make a crack at the guy for missing him. He didn’t care. Not anymore. Had this been before he had been locked away he would have made a joke, he would have tested the will of the fates to see how much he could push before making his escape. Orville knew not to take those chances anymore. He scrambled back up to his feet and ran at the sound of frustrated garble.

The only thing between him and freedom was his own fence. He didn’t go for the gate, he didn’t try for the tree, and he went head on to the back of the garden where there was just a clear wall of the upright wood keeping things out.

Keeping him in.

He jumped, pressing one foot into it for leverage, his hands latching onto the top, pulling his weight upwards.

The alley was clear. There were no cars, no people, no animals to look back at him. There was nothing but the concrete below, bins ready to be emptied, and another fence opposite to him. It was there, sitting quietly in the night of this small town belonging to the people with lives he had been trying to replicate. Everything he could have had was just beyond that fence.

Stars in the night sky looked down at him, the breeze ruffled his hair, and the promise of tomorrow was tucked just below the horizon. It was all waiting for him, calling out to him, cheering him on.

It was too late, though, his efforts were useless because someone grabbed onto his shirt.

“No,” he breathed, a quiet plead.

Everything disappeared behind the fence once more.

They flung him back, forcing his hands to release their hold on the fence, down into the grass of the yard. Orville landed on his back, his head bouncing off the ground with enough power to white out his vision in the dark of the night. Above him someone laughed, the sound warped as his ears began to ring, but it was enough.

It gave away their position.

He kicked, the heel of his right foot finding the softness of their stomach. They grunted in pain and he could hear them hit the fence when they stumbled back. Orville blinked rapidly as his vision started to come back to him. He rolled over onto his side to push his elbow and other hand into the dirt along with his foot in order to stand up. His fists rose up as he lowered himself into a ready position.

The man lunged for him, his arm wound back to throw a sloppy punch that Orville evaded easily. He countered with an elbow into the back of the man’s neck as he leaned forwards from having not hit his mark. Something cracked and the man yelled out in pain, grabbing onto Orville’s shirt with both of his hands.

Orville braced himself on the man’s back, using his shoulders to keep the man in place while his knee came up to slam his jaw up into his skull. It made the man stumble back, a hand coming up to hold onto his chin before turning to spit. He grinned.

He was noticeably larger than Orville was, both in height and in muscle mass. The t-shirt he wore showed off his massive arms. It wasn’t a very fair fight, but when he was an Agent it had always been a running joke that Agent Right would take out the bigger guy because somehow, someway, he always came out on top. He knew that now it was from pure dumb luck.

Orville took in a breath at the pause, and flicked his head to get the hair out of his eyes. He cocked his eyebrows at the man.

The other’s grin turned sinister and he charged forwards, yelling out as he did. Orville met him in the middle, ducking one punch to take the next blow of the other hand in the side of the head. He recovered quickly, giving three jabs to the man’s now exposed ribs.

They pushed away from one another, and the other man came forwards with another wound up punch ready to make its hit. Orville blocked it with his forearm, but the man grabbed onto it. He pulled Orville closer to him, rearing back to head butt him, but Orville was quicker. He brought his knee up into his stomach again, knowing it was a sore spot still, and heard the air release from the other’s mouth painfully.

A hand came up to grip the side of Orville’s face, pulling it backwards while a thumb came too close to his eye. He reached up to dig his fingernails into the man’s wrist, his other hand came up to get the underside of the man’s jaw to get him to move back. The man threw another punch that Orville leaned back to miss, but followed the arm to hold down while he punched the man in the face.

The man stumbled back, turning to get away, but Orville followed, trying to get a hand on his shoulder to turn him back around but he was out of reach. The other recuperated after resting back against the fence for a split second, turning with his fists up to find Orville mirroring him. The give was much more than the take. He could see the other man heaving harshly, the sweat pooling on his shirt and running down his temple. He could win this.

Then again, he didn’t really have much of a choice. He had to win this, there was no other option.

The first punch caught him in the eye, but the second Orville managed to block, pushing the arm down and away so it hit the air beside him. He also blocked the elbow of that arm that tried to come up and pull him closer to try and wrap him around the neck. With the arm up and elongated past his shoulder, he grabbed the man’s bicep and shoved the heel of his hand into the man’s trachea before pushing him back.

Orville turned again to face him, this time making the first move. The man blocked him sloppily, and tried to counter but he was blocked, too. Orville pulled him in by the elbow and made another hit to his abdomen, this time in the side. They both grunted, but the other man’s was out of pain more so than effort.

The man swung up, trying to get Orville in the back of the head but he ducked in time, rising up to punch him on the side of his face. The man landed a hit on Orville’s chest, and pulled back to strike him again. Orville linked his arm on the man’s bicep, pivoting around him and stepping up onto his back until he had both his arms around the man’s neck. He hugged it tight, letting his weight fall back as the man fought to buck him off.

The man stumbled forwards, his fists coming back to hit Orville on his sides before changing his strategy and ripping at the skin of Orville’s arms to get him to release his hold. He latched on harder, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Finally the man went down on his knees, the lack of air getting to him, and his hands slowing down in their attempts. Then he fell forwards onto his face, unable to brace himself. Orville stayed there for a moment longer before standing and backing away from the man.

But there was no time for him to celebrate. Not even a quick relieved breath could be released.

As he looked back at the house three more people came out from the doorway.

“мы нуждаемся в нем в живых,” one yelled at the other as they made their way towards him.

They kicked him to his knees, and with one swift hit to the back of his head he was lying face first in the dirt, too.

When Orville came to it was like he had never actually left, as if the past year had been some sort of torturous dream.

The walls were different. The chair was different. The ropes were different. The lighting was different.

But it was the same.

He fought against the restraints like he had before, his breath coming in and out between chattering teeth because it wouldn’t give.

Back, he was back, back in the box, the locks were all in place.

This was his loss. Everything was gone, just out of reach. Small things like the smell of lavender and the heart wrenching cries of babies in a store. Normal, everyday things. No more listening the rustle of the leaves on his walk home in the afternoons, no more falling into bed to press his cheek into the pillow, biting into fresh fruit, wearing clean socks. Showers, shaving, eating, sleeping. All of it was gone.

The sky, too. In all of her glory, the familiar blues, the darkened greys, soft pinks, beautiful purples. They were all memories he would lose in a day or two no matter how much he tried to hold onto them.

He should have called his parents. His gran. Gone back home to just see them, even if he wouldn’t have been able to talk to them. He’d forgotten what his mum looked like. What his brother sounded like.

He yelled. Down at the floor, up at the ceiling. The pain of it deeper than anything they could get from him for anything physical. It rang out against the hollowed room but no one could hear him. The town was asleep, and if they weren’t no one cared about him enough to listen.

No one would even notice he was gone.

He twisted his wrists, the skin breaking and turning raw under the ropes. He thrashed and wrenched, trying to get away from the chair. His desperation drained him as he tried to break away, to cause the binds to snap, though he knew it was all useless. He had to try. 

He yelled when his throat ached and his lungs were burning, spit trailed out of his mouth. Orville yelled until he couldn’t anymore. 

Tears blurred his vision and stained his work trousers as he leaned forwards, defeated.

Later, the door opened and he didn’t bother to look up because he had heard the heels making their way towards the room.

The two men from earlier stepped through the door, their guns raising from where they had been hanging at their sides coming up to rest on him. They stood on either side of the only exit.

Evgeniya stepped through the door after them, disdain on her face as she made the distance across to him in long elegant strides. One hand swung beside her to the sway of her hips and the other was tucked into the pocket of her trousers.

Her eyes cut down to the phone in her hand before slowly making their way up to Orville’s face. He glared up at her after a long, still, minute passed. He could see every feature on hers, how smug she looked staring down at him. It was the same face he remembered leaning over him as he lay strapped down to a bed, as he stood before her, as he sat in a chair like he did then. Orville was taller than her by quite a few inches but that didn’t matter, she knew how to make him feel small. He moved an inch and there would be a bullet between his eyes.

Though, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Agent Right,” she purred, the hand sitting in her pocket rising up to pluck the badge still clipped to his breast pocket off. Her eyes flicked over it before turning it to face him. “Or should I say Mr. Right? Since it would seem your precious RAS has left you to clean up someone else’s mess yet again.”

He clenched his jaw as she laughed, smiling down at his picture.

“You are not an easy man to find, Mr. Right,” he sighed, tossing the badge in his face. He closed his eyes against it as it fell down to land in his lap. “And after all we did for you.”

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, looking him up and down. Evgeniya took a step back, cocking her head, going over him inch by inch as she cataloged every flaw, every loose thread they had cut that he had yet to tie back into place. She rounded the chair, humming and giggling as she went.

As she disappeared from view he looked up at the men still standing up by the door, unmoving from their mark.

“You’ve gained weight since last I saw you,” she said jabbing at his ribs. He refused to flinch, to move under her hand. Not yet. She rounded back to face him, lifting her chin as she looked at him.

Her hand came up to touch his face. It was soft, her thumb running across his cheek bone as if he were so precious that he would break if she applied more pressure. He tried to lean away from it but her hand followed him. She brushed a bit of his hair back from his forehead before her hand moved down his neck, pausing briefly over his pulse point before moving on.

Suddenly she tugged down the collar of his shirt harshly enough for the stitching to protest out loud. Evgeniya grinned, her eyes sliding up to his for a moment but he wasn’t looking at her, he didn’t want to see the satisfaction that would meet him there. He bent his head forwards again.

A scar, one of the only markings they had left on him, was still etched onto his skin. Still pink, still lifted, not quite settled into the surface as it never would. He had been particularly uncooperative that day, having managed to break the main interrogator's nose with his forehead when he had gotten too close. Even now he would have said it had been worth it, but the price to pay had been a branding that would mark him for the rest of his life.

She threw him back with disinterest and pocketed her phone.

“Oh, Orville,” she sighed, crouching down. When he didn’t look at her she shot a hand out to grab his jaw, forcing him to as her nails dug into the skin. “Do you have any idea what I’ve had to do to find you, again?”

“Just kill me,” he told her, rolling his eyes at the theatrics.

“Kill you, hm?” she mused for a moment before shaking her head and wagging her finger. “Oh, but that would be too easy, dear.”

As long as he resisted them they would never be able to truly destroy him. They were there to convert him, capture whatever was left of his mind. They were there to reshape good and evil, to bring him over to their side. Not in appearance, not to where he could play along until he got his chance, but genuinely. They would take out his soul to replace it with their own ideologies. If that didn’t work he would be sold off for something else. He was vermin to them, there to be tortured and mutilated for some sick pleasure he wished he didn’t understand so well.

They had taken his mind, which meant they had already taken everything else. Orville had been forced to pretend that nothing had happened every day since he had gotten out. They had made it necessary that he lie to everyone and himself about what had been done while people drank their coffee and smiled at their friends. The torture had made him deaf. Blind. Mute. Had made him close his eyes. His ears. His heart.

They would make him one of them before they killed him. He would be beaten until he admitted to being one of them, and when he did they would beat him until he dared to no longer be one.

“I’m worthless to you,” he said. His voice was still horse, almost hard to understand as his accent grew thicker in anger at the feeling of her hands on him. “Everything I know is useless now. Out of date. They’ve no doubt changed everything.”

Evgeniya laughed, bright and shiny, like a knife being sharpened. Her eyes opened to pin him down with an amused glare, “Is that why you think we kept you all that time?”

Orville sucked in a breath, blinking hard at her because he hadn’t expected that. He had anticipated an argument, something that would allow him to bargain his way out of this. No, he wouldn’t give up Bianca, but if he could prove how worthless he was maybe then she would let him go or let him die.

What child wanted to play with a toy broken beyond repair?

She smiled at him as she watched his confusion cloud his face. “Orville, you are much more valuable than the secrets you keep. I’ve not come to lock you away again.”

He pulled away at those words, not trusting them at all. She let him and stood up to her full height again. His eyebrows furrowed together, “You haven’t?”

“No,” she shook her head, still smiling. “I’ve come to offer you a job.”

It was his turn to laugh.

“A job?” he scoffed, unable to help the sarcastic amusement that struck the back of his throat.

“Yes. A job. Come work for me,” she said, stepping forwards to run her thumb over the bruise under his eye. “You’re wasted here. I admit, I squandered your time keeping you locked away from the world, too. After the first month we knew we could never break you, but you were good practice for my men. For me, too.”

She reached back into her pocket to pull out a knife. His eyes darted to it, his breathing going shallow as he swallowed down the fear that rose up in his throat. Evgeniya chuckled and went back around behind him. The binds on his wrist gave first, then the ones around his chest, and finally the ones on his legs. Orville glanced up at the men. They hadn’t moved.

“But when you left, when the RAS did not come knocking on my door, I knew I needed to find you,” she continued as she came round. “Not to kill you. Not to lock you away, again for my own amusement, but to offer you a chance to join us.”

A hand was extended to him and he stared at it for a long moment before looking up at her, still questioning. She nodded to him, reaching her hand closer. He stayed put, already trying to jerk away. One of the men cleared their throat and made him look up at the guns still on him. He sighed sharply through his nose and took her hand. Evgeniya pulled him up to step beside him, looping her arm around his to begin walking.

“The RAS, they left you for dead, Orville,” she continued without missing a beat. “But me, I’ve not rested in my search for you...I’ve come all the way from Russia for you. I don’t do that for just anyone you know. Not even my cousin, and she, much like you, is in a cell waiting for someone to come get her. Yet I am not there, I am here. For you.”

She led him up to the men, only stopping a few paces away from where they stood to turn him around to face her again. Her hands were on his arms as her thumbs rubbed into the fabric of his uniform.

“I know you hate them more than we do,” she smiled, flicking the hair out of her face. “I know you want revenge. So come with me. I can give you the tools you need to ensure you get the ending you deserve. They have hurt more people than helped, sacrificing their own for futile reasons. They will continue to if we don’t do something about it. Please. I don’t want to leave you to shovel shit for a bunch of spoiled children for the rest of your days. You are capable of so much more, my dear.”

Orville stared down at her through squinted eyes.

The Rescue Aid Society had wronged him. They had done worse than leaving him to die, they had left him to rot away in a hole in the ground at the hands of this woman. They had continued on with their missions and their operations while he waited for one of those to be to come get him. All in vain. All to have to get himself out after months of living in a fate worse than hell. One that he had to carry around with him every day after that.

He had sat there thinking about all he would do if he ever got out, all the scenarios had crossed his mind.

Revenge, payback, justice.

“Orville?” she asked, her eyebrows moving upwards as she expected him to answer. His eyes looked down at the floor.

He deserved that didn’t he? A chance to get back at the people who had done this to him. He deserved the chance to prove to them that he hadn’t forgotten just because they had. She was offering it to him. Orville would be a fool not to take the opportunity.

He nodded to her, little jerky motions of his head.

“Oh, good,” she said, pulling away to clasp her hands together. “I knew you would see it my way.”

Orville moved fast, knowing it would be the last thing he ever did. He landed a hard punch to her mouth, using everything he had left behind it. Quick, but no less painful.

“Fuck off,” he growled out at her, shaking out his hand.

She yelled out in pain, an arm coming up to hover frantically over her face as she wrenched herself back around to look at him with a murderous expression. Her other hand flew up as he heard the cocking of the guns just beside them.

“No,” she commanded, waving her hand with aggression to motion for them to put their weapons down. “Keep him alive. Maybe they’ll come after him this time. Cut out the search for Gabor.”

The men moved towards him, forcing him backwards to the chair. Evgeniya walked past, wiping the blood from her lip on her sleeve.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he yelled after her. She stopped then, turning to look at him, a grin showing her teeth coated in red.

“Then at least I have my favorite past time back.” She looked at her men in the eyes, one after the other. “Do what you want with him, just make sure he’s still breathing when I get back.”

They nodded to her.

Evgeniya shut the door behind her so she wouldn’t have to listen. She had work to do.

он здесь! - He’s here!

мы нуждаемся в нем в живых - We need him alive.

[orvilleright-blog1]

Code Red -Red Light Runners-

[orvilleright-blog1]

miissbiianca:

As Bianca saw it, there were two options: they all scatter, or they all stay together. She knew which option she preferred. Scattering meant running, getting as far away from Swynlake as they could in as little time as was possible, but it made them easier targets. Maybe they were expecting them to run. They could have more people than they knew out there, waiting to capture them, pick them off one by one.

Stay together, and they could protect one another. Bianca would need to explain this to Bernard, of course, but she trusted him to help. She was sorry for putting him in danger, but she supposed he had expected as much, when he had taken the job. Being an agent was going to get them into some amount of trouble, sometime, but if the three of them stuck together, they could make it through. The London agents would help, and there would be backup on the way, if the Director knew–

And yet, Orville couldn’t see that, could he?

Bianca wished there had been a way to tell him that hadn’t triggered his flight response, but what else could she have done? Not told him? Not an option; he had to know. She couldn’t have imagined what would happen, if he found out, and she hadn’t told him…

He would never trust her again.

But still, running wasn’t an option. She shook her head just a little, just once. “You can’t run - it’s not safe. They’ll find you, it’s what they do, Orville. Please, listen to me–” But she might as well have been talking to a brick wall, hm? He wasn’t going to take any notice, but she had to try. “I can’t know that you’re safe, if you’re out there alone.”

It wasn’t going to work, though. Bianca knew it. She could only hope.

The only reason he was still standing there was to make her aware that he didn’t want her help, and he didn’t want her following after him, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for anyone else to come looking like they were now. The truth was, he didn’t know if it was because of her, in all reality it was his own fault for not having used a fake name or being careful not to leave a paper trail through Russia as he traveled back to the UK. He needed someone else to blame, like he always did, and she was standing right there in front of him.

She was right, he wasn’t going to listen to her. He had no reason to believe that anything she was telling him was the truth. This might be some twisted way of bringing him into the RAS to get whatever information out of him, to bring him back in to ensure their secrets were protected. All he knew was that he needed to get the hell out of there one way or another. 

“No,” he insisted, shaking his head back at her. Orville took another step back for good measure, making sure he was out of her direct reach. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

He needed something that would get her to stay away from him. Anger hadn’t worked, it had only brought her back time and time again as she tried to make amends. Neither had the truth, that had only made it seem like she wanted more to do with him because he had revealed how screwed up he really was.

“If you want me safe, Bianca,” he settled on, looking at her dead on, “then you’ll let me go. I’m just another civilian you’d have to take care of. You take them in, you’ll have nothing to worry about. Just let me go before we waste anymore time.”  

[melody-the-unwritten]

Moving up & Moving in {Open}

[orvilleright-blog1]

melody-the-unwritten:

“Oh wow that quite a while.” She was sure what she was expecting but sometimes this town felt like it was people that were here all their life and people that were here only a small amount of time. 

“Why wouldn’t it? You’re the one that lived there of course it means something.”  He would be the one to know how great the country could be. He would know if it was worth it or not. London while great to her always seemed like people overhyped it to her. Tourist season was always interesting. “I’m sure I’ll find myself back there again.”

He shrugged again, not really thinking anything of it. A year here had felt like nothing in comparison to the year previous to it. That had felt as if it had been dragged on for ten. But he was not thinking about that. He was thinking about helping this woman with her broken shoe and getting her bags up to her new flat.

“Good. I hope so.” Orville had wanted to answer the question to tell her that what he had meant was that he didn’t mean anything to her, which was related to his opinion, since they had just met. She was being nice, though, hadn’t wronged him, there was no need to say it. “Unless this town keeps you around for too long. But you’re young, you’ve got time to see the world.”

[jachelrames]

Disney’s movies from the ’70s are my favorite

[melody-the-unwritten]

Moving up & Moving in {Open}

[orvilleright-blog1]

melody-the-unwritten:

“How long have you been here then?” Melody questioned gently prompting a little more conversation so it wouldn’t be awkward being the man that didn’t even need to volunteer to help while stuck in an elevator. 

“I think I’ve only been to Scotland once? My family liked to travel around a lot.” But it was when she was younger and honestly she couldn’t remember a whole lot of it.

“Little over a year,” he said. Then shrugged, squinted, and tipped his head back and forth. “Give or take a month or two.” 

Orville smiled at the thought of her being in Scotland. Mostly of Scotland in general. It made him nostalgic and pulled at his heart strings enough for him to feel that tug of home sickness lurking around. “Once? Well, that’s more than most people can say. But in my opinion, not enough.” He paused. “Not that, that means much to you.”

[orvilleright-blog1]

Code Red -Red Light Runners-

[orvilleright-blog1]

miissbiianca:

“Orville.”

She said his name because she was, otherwise, at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure what reaction she was expecting, but she wasn’t sure it was him leaving, just stalking out of the room like a man on a mission - a mission he apparently hadn’t thought to let Bianca in on.

She followed hi, because she couldn’t think of what else to do, and she was going that way anyway, and she didn’t want to just… leave him. She was going to protect him, she had said as much. If they were on their way to pick Orville up, then Bianca was going to make sure that didn’t happen, and not just because it was her job, but because he was her friend. She wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him, not again.

But she had been too busy thinking to follow his movement; she had only just seen him stop in time. She skittered to a halt, heels squeaking against the floor, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

She had brought them here?

“Orville,” She said it again, repeated his name like it might do any good. She shook her head, taking a step towards him. “This isn’t–” She couldn’t deny it, that she had been the one to bring them here. Maybe they had found him, maybe they’d found her; she didn’t know. She supposed it didn’t matter. They were both in danger either way. “I’m sorry.” She said, her tone sincere. She was sorry for ruining the new life he had built. “But this isn’t going to be like last time. I’m not going to let it be like last time. Just let me help.”

The sharp shadows cutting across the floor from where the sun was setting had him thinking about how soon night was going to come. They were wasting time now arguing about this, but if he was going to get the hell out of here he needed to ensure that she wasn’t going to follow him.

If she followed then they wouldn’t be too far behind. It was a selfish thing to do, and he knew that. It sat there in the forefront of his mind that what happened to him could happen to her, her partner, anyone they were looking out for here in town now that had given them the incentive to set up shop. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that for anyone. But he also wasn’t strong enough to take that bullet again, to be able to sacrifice himself for the greater good. At one time he could have, he would have, just not anymore.

“You’re right. It’s not,” he told her, his eyes cutting back to her from where he had been surveying the corridor just outside the door. “If you really want to help me then you’re going to let me walk away and you’re not going to follow me. You’re going to do whatever it is you need to do with your people, and you’re going to leave me the hell out of it.” 

From the very moment his last call over the radio went out he had been alone. There had been no one with him in that box, there had been no one with him when he escaped, and there was no one here in town that he could turn to. The only person he could trust to get himself out of here safely was himself, and what a mess of a person he was to have to rely on for that. Orville still thought it was a better option than the RAS. 

“And when it’s over, don’t try and find me.”