I wasn't very active here last month, so I want to share how people were injured in May by a Russian strike drone. It fell nearby and this experience, how the glass flies out of the door and how the room fills with smoke and dust and there is screaming in the street because there are wounded. And these are ordinary Russians, ordinary Russians launch drones, scout and direct them at people. For them, it is a way to spread fear and intimidate, kill and maim. And then pretend that nothing happened. I don't want to show any photos or videos because over the years you have all become so used to Ukrainians having to traumatize themselves twice: first experiencing it and then seeing and publishing photos from the scene. Just remember that the drone falls quickly. Today it is us, a training ground, and tomorrow someone else
Thanks for the encouragement to get back to this. 🥰
Ok so I left Scott in a bit of a pickle... so be warned it's angsty.🙄
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Panic gripping him fully now he backed away from the closed door until his back hit the wall. Sliding down to the floor he curled tightly in on himself as the flood of memories threatened to drown him, until he couldn’t think straight, couldn't breath and here and now became there and then.
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“Scott Tracy is in distress!” Eos voice cried frantically from John's wrist.
Both brothers leapt up, the data pad John had been filling forms in clattered to the ground.
“What?”
“How..?”
“I am attempting to alert assistance!”
“Eos! What's happening?” Penny seemed most capable of clarity.
“Commander Scott Tracy is struggling to breathe!”
“Wait, you can't...” Penny's attempt to stop the brothers crashing into the corridor fell on deaf ears.
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Jody had cleared the first two layers of security and was patiently waiting for the security guard to make the final clearance and bring her to her client.
“All a bit strange, this one,” Fred commented conspiratorially.
“Indeed,” Jody was not going to be drawn. “How’s Peter finding sixth form?”
The older man grinned at mention of his youngest son. “He’s loving the social life but not so much the workload.”
Whatever Jody had been going to reply was cut off by the sudden sounding of an alarm.
“What the...?” Karl leapt for the console. He swore. “That shouldn't...You better stay here!”
Jody had moved with him and looking over his shoulder at what the alert was ignored the last part of his statement, that was her client!
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“But our brother...”
“I'm sorry sir but I am going to ask you to move aside please. You cannot access the cells, I don't care who is down there. “
“He needs help!”
“Then he'll be getting it, sir. Now back away!” his hand rested on the Taser on his holster.
A man with a black bag and a security pass marked medical came hurrying up and the three were forced to move aside as the security guard waved him quickly through.
Was he there for Scott?
Virgil nearly pushed after him but Penny grabbed his arm and forced the irate man to take a step back- palm flat in the centre of his chest.
“Let me!” her glare dared them to disagree as she turned back to the security guard. “I'm sorry. I know you are just doing your job but as you can see my friends are...” she eyed the two Tracy’s who looked about ready to pull the building apart, “concerned about their brother. Clearly something is going on but if we can't go down some reassurance might help...” again she paused, “relax the situation.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Please!”
He regarded her a moment then stepped away and spoke into his radio. He nodded, face grim then turned back to Penny.
“All I can do is to assure you if there is a problem with one of our detainees they are receiving appropriate care.”
“Thank you,” Penny cut across John before he could say what he thought of that lack of information. “We’ll wait back in here then.” She turned and herded the two frantic men back into the side room they had been waiting in. “John dear. The tablet,” she picked it up and handed it to him. Understanding her the astronaut shook himself and bent over the tablet, fingers flying as he sought less official reassurances of his own.
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The terror was overwhelming. Lost in a nightmare of sounds and images his lungs burned. A small part recognised his breathing was too fast and too shallow but he couldn't stop it.
Darkness threatened the edge of his vision. Unable to focus on the dark shadows threatening around him, he struck out at the faceless shapes that loomed. They would not take him.
Not again.
The barking. Hands attempted to grab him again.
No, no, no, no!
There was a grunt as one of his uncoordinated blows connected. The threat retreated and he dropped back pushing himself with frantic hands until he felt the hard wall behind. With nowhere else to go he curled in on himself on the floor.
Loud Voices echoed. Angry.
He waited for blows that didn't come.
Then suddenly loud music startled him. Just enough to break the panic slightly.
“Please, wait” a woman’s voice, vaguely familiar. “Let me try this before you give him...”
English.
He couldn't catch the rest of her sentence or the deeper voice that replied. But trying to focus on it pulled him closer to reality.
“See, he's coming back.”
More sounds from deeper voices.
Now he turned his face towards the voice. The music continued.
It was loud. Classic rock? Like Alan currently favoured. Alan?
Thought of his youngest brother woke a little more of his awareness.
“Don't talk breathe. Good. Yes. Like that. In...out” The voice kept talking. Steady and calm. Anchoring. “That’s the ticket. Again.”
That Place did not have a voice like that.
It just kept talking. About nothing that he could make sense of but a body gently pressed against his side- he was on the floor he realised. Not comfy but not cold stone. He half expected it to be Virgil beside him but then he realised it wasn't; remembered why and the panic flooded back, his breathing speeding up again, vision tunnelling.
The voice became more urgent “Scott...I know but... just another moment, please. He’s not going to pass out, we've got this.”
The male voice spoke again, low and indistinct but the woman's didn't falter now just kept up a steady stream of speech.
He flinched as a large hand gripped his wrist the way Vigil sometimes did but the grip was gentle pressing lightly on the inside of his wrist so he didn't pull away. The voice kept talking. He relaxed ever so slightly.
Gradually, gradually his breathing returned to something approaching normal.
He began to focus on what was actually being said. The occasional word eventually becoming full sentences. He listened a moment eyes closed, focusing on breathing more deeply as his scattered thoughts began to understand the words.
“Are you... are you reciting...case law?”
“You didn't respond to my thoughts on Ugg boots so yes.”
He huffed a breath that might have been amusement under other circumstances.
“You back?”
He nodded his head once. Focusing on trying to steady his breathing to the rhythm he realised the woman was gently tapping in his leg.
The woman he realised was his barrister. Who he had only just met. This should be humiliating but he was too tired, the emotions from the flashback still too real to actually care.
“Can you tell me three things you can see?”
He raised his head slightly, “Shoes, sink...” a pause as his eyes focused, “grey hair?”
“Sorry, mine.” A hand reached out and grabbed the wig from the floor, “It's itchy. I'm supposed to ask if you mind me removing it but well...”
He waved a hand indicating retrospective permission.
“What do you hear?”
“My youngest brother’s playlist?”
A laugh.
“What else? “
“You, voices outside.”
No dogs.
“Good that's good.”
They sat pressed together on the floor for a moment. His thoughts began to form more coherence. “How did you know about the music? That it’d help.”
“My older brother.”
Scott turned to look at her. She smiled a little sadly.
“Flew combat like you. He... this...happens sometimes. .” she gestured their current location.
Scott simply nodded. Enough said.
Movement in his periphery made Scott start back cracking his head hard on the wall. He swore.
“Careful!”
A large man was kneeling to his left just outside his immediate line of sight watching him carefully. He smiled warmly when Scott turned his head to look at him.
That was mildly unnerving. Now he was more aware of his surroundings, he could see at least two other men in the corridor beyond the open door.
“Good to have you back, Mr Tracy.” Scott looked at the stranger slightly wary. Beyond him on the floor he could see the open medical bag, he sucked in a breath at the sight of a vial and hypodermic sitting beside it, his pulse picked up again and the man adjusted his position blocking it from view.
He handed over a small cup of water which was pressed into his hand, Jody steadying it as his hands were shaking.
She nodded to the man Scott didn't recognise. “Dr Girvan, he's a police doctor, he'll check you over till we decide about this afternoon.”
“Decide?”
“Well, obviously if you're unable to attend... well we'll have to postpone.”
With that icy dose of reality the hand that had loosened is grip on his chest tightened slightly. He straightened himself, “Of course I’m able to attend.”
She looked at him intently, “Scott, I will get you out of here. But there are things beyond any of our control.”
“I'm fine.”
The intense gaze continued, an unprofessionally frank assessment from well within his personal space as she had yet to move away from where she was physically pressed against him, grounding him. Finally she seemed to come to a conclusion. There was an exhale, of frustration or amusement Scott’s tired brain couldn’t decide. “Of course you are.”
She nodded to the man, Scott now realised had a medical scanner subtly held at his side. The man stood and reached out a hand to help her up.
Before she pulled herself off the floor Scott put a hand on her arm, “Thank you, Ms Donavon.”
“I think you can probably call me Jody at this point. Don't you?”
Hot Take: Schoolhouse Rocked lowkey ruined Arturo's character. "Maria" was a switchblade comb Arturo received as a parting gift from his father SHORTLY BEFORE he was sent to prison. This immediately writes off any of Arturo's past actions prior to this episode as him having C-PTSD. Especially the crank call episode. He is essentially The Joker of the PPG franchise.
Huh...I don't really agree with this. I'm not sure if you're suggesting that Arturo would be better if he was just a rebellious teen and nothing more, which is fine, nothing wrong with thinking that. But I see it as hidden depth given to the character, and I personally like when a character, especially a villain, has a reason for doing what they do. That's what makes them interesting to me.
As for the prank call...idk I think the pause was just Arturo trying to hold back laughter before he could finish the call. There was a bit of a wobble in his voice when he said, "please hold," like he was close to cracking up but held it together.
The part about Bubbles is interesting, though, I've never really noticed that. And again, it adds to the depth, knowing what we know about his dad.
What I am curious about is how you feel about Aspirations, since it brings up something similar. That episode heavily implied the entire gang has parental issues of some sort. Do you feel that enhanced or ruined their character?
Sorry for the big gap in posting- real life is just very full on at the moment- lot of spinning plates, most smashed!
@idontknowreallywhy consulted hard on this one.
Anyway. You know that one scene you can picture fully before you start a fic. Finally, finally we've got there.
Tw I do give Scott a hard time here. Sorry if it's all too melodramatic.
The bail hearing continues.
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As the doors closed behind John and Virgil, Jody met her client’s eyes. He thought of flying, of Alan’s laugh, he shut out memories of another more recent laugh, of darker colder things. He nodded slightly and sat straighter in his seat bracing for what was to come.
He could do this.
He had no choice.
“Your Honour, my client suffers from medical issues due to an incarceration he suffered while serving in the USAF.”
“I was not aware...
“It is not a matter of public record but my client was held prisoner after his jet was shot down over Bereznik. His subsequent three months as a prisoner of war has left him with occasional recurrences of post traumatic stress disorder. There is concern that being confined at this time, combined with the connection to Bereznik in this case might prove exceptionally detrimental to his mental health.”
“Your Honour, perhaps the defendant should have considered this before he committed a crime that carries a mandatory life sentence!”
“The compassion and evident impartiality of the prosecution is noted and I will remind him of the burden of proof.” He turned his withering gaze from the prosecution barrister who had the decency to look shamefaced for a moment. Then he turned his attention to Jody who waited patiently to be invited to speak.
“Ms Donovan if you would be so kind to explain what's going on. My list has been rearranged for what is already proving an irregular experience and I think we'd all like to get some clarity this side of tomorrow.”
“Thank you, your honour. I can supply evidence to support my client’s claim, with the speed of events I am unable to produce it till later today. Dr Patricia O’Brien a specialist in this type of trauma who has been treating my client for several years is prepared to testify to the particulars should the court require. We ask that the court show compassion for a decorated war hero.”
“Your flair for the dramatic is noted. I will take this into consideration upon receipt. Clearly this information could have bearing on the case.”
“Of course your honour.”
Ms Donavon, If bail is granted your client can expect the conditions to be extensive. It would be equally pertinent for you to take instructions on matters such as surety and a potential residence address within the jurisdiction.”
“Thank you, your honour. “
“I’ll rise until 2pm. Your client will remain in downstairs in custody until then.”
He rose and left the court.
Jody moved across to Scott, “That was encouraging. You'll be ok for a couple of hours? I'm going to speak to your brothers, explain what's happening and then I'll come and we can discuss what you can expect from this afternoon. I know this isn't your choice of strategy but I agree with your brothers, we need to get you out of here to figure out what is going on. This isn't...” she gestured the space around them, “Things are being moved along in a strange way. We need you out so we can regroup. This is a good first step to that. You'll be ok?”
He gave a half smile and Jody got the sense of armour being worn in the form of a charmingly wry grin, believable except if you looked into his eyes.
His painfilled eyes.
“Tell them I'm ok. Fine even. Yea,” his lips moved in a facsimile of a grin, “Tell them I say I'm fine,” He straightened the grin gone a look of tired determination in its place. She squeezed his arm slightly, an unprofessional impulse just as the guard led him away.
Gathering her files quickly she nodded at the prosecution as he held the door for her and went in search of her client’s family. They were not going to be pleased that they'd been removed from proceedings.
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Virgil was pacing like a caged tiger, behaviour more usually seen in Scott who had been eerily still in the courtroom. The engineer had a fist twisting the hair on the front of his head tightly and seemed to be having a conversation on his own head.
“This is ridiculous!”
“I know, dear heart but we have to trust the process,” Penny’s voice was calm but Virgil noticed with a morbid satisfaction she was biting on her thumb nail in an uncharacteristic way.
“The same process that has landed Scott on trial for murder? Forgive my lack of reassurance.”
“Vee,” John's voice held a gentle rebuke.
“Sorry, Penny.” The blonde just waved a hand to show no offence had been taken.
“How could they just kick us out like this?”
“So they can talk about his file.”
“But we're his family. We lived the aftermath. How could they remove us!”
“Virgil,” John sighed and put it a leg to stop Virgil's pacing motioning to the seat on his right. Virgil took the hint.
“He could have said it was ok for us to remain, he must have instructed Jody to do that- the court was empty. Why?”
John sighed sadly looking up from the data Eos was sending him. “We both know why, Vee.”
Virgil visibly deflated in his seat. “I know.”
They sat in silence before the sound of the courtroom door alerted them to the fact it was clearly over. Jody approached and motioned them to follow her into a side room where they could speak in private.
She passed Scott's message, the “fine” drawing a sad huff of laughter from the brothers, clearly a meaning she didn't comprehend.
“I have looked over the information; what I'm cleared to read anyway. I'm a confident as I can be at this stage that the ruling should go in our favour, at which point Scott will be released on bail which you'll need to pay upon his release. I need some numbers of accounts and an address here in London where you so be staying. You can access a sizeable amount of cash quickly?”
John looked at Virgil and they both nodded. “Good. Always helpful to have things in place to expedite matters. I'll leave the forms here. Sorry to be callous but with means such as yours, the figure will be high- we’llneed the money immediately if the ruling is in our favour.”
John took the data pad she offered him scanning the first page of the open document and nodding again.
“I'll let you sort these details for the court and I’m going to go and discuss this afternoon with Scott, I feel it best I prepare him for what details I intend to present.”
“Thank you, Ms Donovan.”
“Jody.”
“Jody,” Virgil’s smile was genuine.
As she hurried to the cells below, Jody took a moment to app the warm brown eyes, different to her clients yet strangely alike.
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He’d met his brothers’ frightened gazes with the most steady and reassuring one he could manage. He had held it together as his barrister had made the appeal for special consideration. He hated that his record was being used like this. It was a violation, but as she had pointed out the prosecution would no doubt be digging it up. He felt nauseous at all the implications of this. What if... he shut that down as tight as he could.
He’d met her eye and held his head up as he been lead out of the court room. He was a Tracy he lived through worse.
He didn’t feel that confidence now.
His hands trembled and he balled them into fists to stop it showing.
The guard opened the door and motioned for him to enter the tiny room. He closed his eyes and walked forward, breaths deliberately slow and steady. The rhythm had been taking more and more effort to control as they had moved deeper under the courthouse. No natural light and a horribly familiar feeling of his hands being bound was not helping him.
This wasn't there.
The resounding clang of the door closing behind him caused him to start. His heart rate and breathing both accelerated, all pretence of a steady pattern deserting him.
He was here. This was not Bereznik. He would not be here for long. He would not be tortured.
No torture.
He could do this.
He was not there.
He could do this.
He was not there.
Anxiety had him pulling at the bandage on his hand, fingers digging into the cut. The pain helped keep him in this reality; an unhealthy coping mechanism that would have Virgil tearing his hair out.
He forced himself to open his eyes and slowly turn, taking in every inch of the square box he found himself in.
Not there. Not a stinking straw mattress on the ground. Proper flooring. Not there.
He knew he was breathing too fat and tried to steady himself but he was loosing the battle. He thought he heard dogs in the distance.
Not the dogs. Not here. They weren't here.
There was a bang as a cell door nearby closed and the dark wave of the past closed over his head.
Panic gripping him fully now he backed away from the closed door until his back hit the wall. Sliding down to the floor he curled tightly in on himself as the flood of memories threatened to drown him, until he couldn’t think straight, couldn't breath and here and now became there and then.
Thanks for the feedback after the last chapter- I know, I know bit mean but there you go!
The whole story so far is here on A03
Chapter 4 is here on tumblr
Chapter 6 is here
Driving @idontknowreallywhy mad with this one but heroic attempts to keep me on track continue.
But it was all a big misunderstanding... right? Sure it'll all be sorted by lunch.
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John looked at the streams of data in front of him. They were all moving too fast for a casual observer to understand. At this point most of it was highly illegal, if he was caught there was no way he would be avoiding consequences. Maybe he and Scott could be in adjoining cells he laughed bitterly. Better not get caught then.
John’s focus was entirely on the central hologram of Eos.
“Eos, are we in?”
“I have found a way. Initialising.”
There was a brief pause and Eos’ avatar shifted and the hologram in front of him resolved itself into the inside of a small square room. It was bare except for a desk in the middle, a couple of chairs on either side. At this moment in time his older brother was sitting on one of the chairs, head in hands. He was alone.
The feed was grainy but John could see his brother tapping his fingers and jiggling his leg as he only did when upset and he thought no one was near. A small micro dot in his shirt collar pinged his location and some basic biometric data, normally unaccessed, only there for an emergency. This, John felt was emergency enough to justify its usage. The data showed signs of extreme stress, go figure. They needed to get to the bottom of this and fast. Scott would not do well in a cell. John squashed an emotion he didn't want to examine and focused on the task at hand.
Obviously they had confiscated Scott’s comm and phone so John had had to resort to other measures.
As John watched, Scott scrubbed a hand over his face, causing John’s heart to clench painfully. He looked…lost.
Then suddenly his demeanour changed and John was unsurprised when seconds later the door opened and three men entered, one John recognised as Scott's new solicitor.
“Eos, have we any way of getting audio?”
“I shall attempt to access any microphones in the room. But I am not sure this is useful, John.”
“Eos. We need to know what is going on. We need to help Scott.”
“OK. John. Attempting to access the detective’s phone.”
“Thank you, Eos.” John leant forward as if by doing so he could be with his brother in the room.
Just as the audio feed crackled to life the apartment’s buzzer rang.
“Master John,” Parker’s voice was heavy with meaning. “That was the front door. There are several members of the constabulary h’on their way up. They wish to speak with you and master Virgil. Might I suggest,” he cast an eye over John caught in tableau, his older brother in holographic form floating behind him, “you h’ensure they find you…presentable?”
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Scott had been ‘processed.’ Mug shots had been taken, he was still blinking from the brightness of the flashes. He had his fingerprints taken and verified his name and address several times. He’d refused medical treatment for his hand, subtly bandaged by Virgil in the small hours and had as per every lesson drilled into him by his father and their legal team at TI’s asked to speak to his lawyer. He been led into this room, given a bottle of water and left alone, he assumed deliberately, without really being told anything else.
It was very disorientating not helped by the fact he hadn’t slept much and, while he felt he had a grip on things, he knew he was feeling the hypervigilance that he always experienced when certain topics were plaguing him. Plus, and this was the biggest thing, his mind kept raising and rejecting the idea that anything could possibly have happened to the girl who had been very much alive and in his arms the night before. He wanted to move but resisted the urge to pace.
He ran a hand their his hair.
Eve, Evie. She had said her dad's name was Jackson....Guinevere Jackson. Was it... her?
He swallowed hard. He needed answers.
His chest constricted and he forced his breathing to stay steady. He curled his injured hand into a fist welcoming the sting as it pulled painfully helping him stay grounded. The recently resurfaced thoughts of the last time he was held in a small cell threatened to combine with the clawing fear that she...that something could have happened. He would not, could not let it get a hold. He needed to find out what was going on which meant he needed to focus.
They’d taken his phone so he’d not been able to reach out, to contact her and reassure himself that this was all a big mistake. No one had been forthcoming in response to his requests for clarity. He just needed to know she was ok.
How he hated the waiting.
A sound in the corridor alerted him to incoming company and he straightened. Game face on, rules of engagement were the same on the battlefield and in the boardroom, he’d stick with them here as well. Don’t let the opposite side see your cards until you know what their game is. Something was certainly not right with this.
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John was not the only one watching his brother. On the other side of the one way glass Chief Superintendent Morgan was considering the man in the next room.
“You do realise we’re holding one of the most famous and respected men in the world in there.”
“Yes. However, the evidence is suggesting this is a cut and dry deal, sir.”
“I’ve seen the evidence and…it feels too easy. Why would someone with his intelligence and resources just allow himself to he caught? No attempt to conceal or leave? Man lives on an island for goodness sake; good luck getting an extradition agreement with his own family.”
“Arrogance?”
“Does he look arrogant to you?” They both regarded the man sitting alone in the room.
“The forensics will be back any second and Hicks and Rowan are already on their way to interview the brothers.
“Good, good.” Morgan rocked on his heels slightly, an indication he was thinking. Henderson waited.
“The list of people who owe their lives to this man…its a long list…my wife’s sister is one of them. Heaven help me when this gets out. Pulled her out of that big fire in Paris a couple of years back.”
As no response seemed necessary, Henderson wisely kept his mouth shut.
“To hear her tell it you’d think it was angel wings and not a jet pack that he was using to fly…” he seemed to loose himself in thought scrutinising the man through the one way glass.
“No special treatment. This thing is being driven from the very top, and I mean VERY top, Henderson. Every ‘i’ dotted, you understand me. I’ve had the Commissioner on twice already, he’s mumbling about the Home Office. This thing is huge, the dad being who he is.” It had all the markings of a career making case. Or ending, he thought darkly. He didn’t tell Henderson about the phone call from his counterpart, if she could be called that, in MI5 asking to be kept apprised. If the spooks were involved…he shuddered. Something rotten in the state of Denmark indeed.
His phone chimed and he answered curtly, listening with a grim face to the other person. He sighed heavily. Green was one of the senior officers on this case, he wasn’t sure how that had happened, annoyingly short staffed needs must but he was not always delicate in these matters. Henderson however was a good solid officer who looked set to have a long and successful career- should he not make an enemy of one of the Forbes’ Lists top entries.
“That was the front desk. Mr Tracy’s lawyer has arrived.”
He was sure he had an ulcer starting. No guilty man, regardless of how rich he was or how impressive his legal representation was would be walking away from this, he would make certain of that; a promising young life had been cut off, he’d seen the crime scene photos and she deserved justice. But…he narrowed his eyes at the man in the room, Morgan had been around a long time, no innocent man was going to be framed if he could help it either.
The motivations for removing Scott Tracy from the game board? Morgan wasn’t where he was and set to continue further up the ladder without understanding the dirty politics of the world. He sighed again. Probably a lot of people could benefit if his new friend went to jail.
Henderson cleared his throat- waiting for Morgan to remember he was there. “Do we know them, the solicitor?”
Morgan started slightly, raising an eyebrow and regarding Henderson cooly, “Yes. You have heard of Wolfe and Bryne?”
“Who hasn’t. I mean we knew it would be from a top firm. Who have they sent? I’ve dealt with John Harkness before, decent guy, bit scary.”
His boss laughed, “We Should be so lucky. It’s only David Wolfe on his way up as we speak.”
“The boss?”
“The big boss. Met him once years ago,” that had not been a good day for young green DI Morgan. “I don’t think he’s left his desk in over fifteen years.” He pulled his glasses off, running the bridge of his nose. Today felt like several long days and it wasn’t eleven o’clock yet. “Aren’t we blessed. You stick to Green like glue, don’t let him get us all fired.”
“Sir,” his own data pad chimed. “That’s the lab sir. The glass is a match, which puts him directly at the scene along with the CCTV Footage. I’m not sure how he would hope to get out of this.”
“I will be convinced by nothing but a full and Comprehensive confession and you should be careful too Henderson. I want EVERY move catalogued and in a report on my desk before you’ve even thought it; you and I are telepathically linked for the duration, you understand?”
He sighed, eyes still on the window. “Something does not add up. This is under the highest level of news lockdown, make sure you reiterate it AGAIN to your team. The father is incommunicado. The embassy are pulling him back from wherever he is. Any leaks from this office and I’ll have badges and livers. Haven’t had this level of lockdown on a story since, well, it’s been a long time…”
Henderson nodded, too seasoned an officer to be nervous, especially when the evidence was painting an increasingly compelling story of guilt. He was however very good at his job and smart enough to recognise the warning and advice he was being given.
“Right,” Morgan straightened and indicated Henderson should go and begin the interview, “let’s get this circus started. Lay on Macduff.”
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'Our praises are our wages'
Let me know what you think. It's all kicking off now!
OK. So here's the next installment. :: goes and hides::
Basically not much happens but Scott thinking about stuff. He's wet.
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Scott leant against the side of the lift in Penny’s building as it made its way up to the penthouse. The cool metal felt good against his skin and he welcomed the vibrations. He ignored the water dripping down the back of his neck. It ran off his sodden clothes and puddled at his feet.
He had been much longer than he’d intended; not for the reasons his brothers probably believed. He huffed a bitter laugh at that. They should know by now good things did not happen to him, or at least not without complication. His hand throbbed. He was pretty sure he had stopped the bleeding but he was too weary to care at this point. Not his greatest moment with hindsight but, well, reasons.
He was fairly certain he hadn’t broken anything; what Virgil didn’t know couldn’t hurt Scott was a maxim to live by at times like these.
He shivered, the cold threatening to unleash memories he was struggling to keep his usually very tight lid on. He breathed deeply through his nose, he was fine.
Door, light, pink carpet- dear Penny, he grounded himself, deliberately working through the exercise, glad of the ache in his hand as it too helped keep him in the present. He might have lost a little time earlier which was... concerning but...
He was fine.
It was fine; he was caught by surprise, that was all.
A hot shower, some breathing exercises and he’d be good to go. A long sleep would be good, but he figured that was not going to happen that night; he never slept well when that place gnawed at him and the apartment lacked the soundproofing of the villa if he did mange to sleep. He was probably going to have a few nights of darker dreams than his brothers needed to be privy to. Staying awake till it settled again was his preferred plan. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The lift stopped and he straightened waiting for the ping and swish of the doors. He could tell the light was still on as he approached the apartment door. Virgil he guessed. He cursed softly.
Great.
He looked at his throbbing hand, hastily bandaged with his bow tie, Evie having claimed the earlier rejected handkerchief as her own. Despite the chill eating into his bones through his soaked clothing and the darkness of some of the thoughts he was having trouble suppressing, this made him smile. She had plucked the blue silk from his pocket and claimed it as a hostage until dinner the next evening. Threatening, that if he reneged on her, she would auction it off on a fan website to cover dry cleaning expenses. He’d laughed at that.
Dinner he was definitely looking forward to; explaining to Virgil how he came to mangle his hand, not so much.
He paused in the corridor thinking. Did her connection to That Place make a difference?
A cheeky smile and infectious laugh momentarily over wrote the other things in his head. The memory of soft lips was also... pleasant.
He sighed, No. The link didn’t make a difference. Now he knew it existed, mention of it wouldn’t catch him off guard again. Maybe he’d even become desensitised to it! She wasn’t actually anything to do with There. What her father did, well, he admired the man, he could cope with that link, his stomach tightened a little. He could cope; couldn’t he?
He imagined explaining it to Virgil and John, “Eve is super and I am totally excited to get to know her but you'll never guess who her dad is ! I didn't and it seriously triggered me to the point I had a major flash back and I've mangled my hand in an attempt to escape the overwhelming darkness of the memories that threatened to pull me under.”
He gave a soft laugh. Probably best work on the wording.
Only his life.
He paused again, looking speculatively at the closed door. It was possible he was wrong and Virgil was not keeping an eager watch for his return. I mean anything was possible. He shivered, which caused unfortunate memories to crowd forwards. He needed out of these wet clothes.
Breathing.
Keep breathing.
It’s fine. He muttered under his breath resting his head against the door for a moment and steadied his thoughts. If he could get to his room undetected he could sort his hand and casually dropher father into conversation, smiling over breakfast like the big deal it wasn't.
Another sigh. Like schrodinger and the stupid cat, only one way to know his fate. Sliding his injured hand into his pocket to conceal it should be be correct about Virgil, he opened the door and slipped quietly in.
I think it’s heartbreaking when small things become associated with horrors. When innocence become tied to evil. You can’t play that song you once loved, or sit by that fountain in the park, or listen to the wind howl through the trees at night, because what used to be a comfort is now tangled within the pit of fear.
