Declan, my bloodbag whumpee from my series 'Shattered'! 🩸⛓️
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Commissioned from the AMAZING AND BEYOND SUPER TALENTED @elgrajaz ! thank you so so much for drawing my boy!!! 🥹😭 It's beautiful, I can't stop looking at him!!! AAAAAA!
i can assure you if you can't find an artist that will do the weird stuff, we most likely will. no judgement here, we just want you to have your art comforts.
$ method : p4yp4l
REMINDER: DM @chompler TO PLACE A COMMISSION ORDER!!!!!!
This is a commissioned piece for @light-me-on-pyre, who was kind enough to participate in my ongoing whump drive for Palestinian aid.
Want in? Donate $5/€5 or more to ANY Palestinian fundraiser, send me the receipt, and I'll write a custom whump drabble for you, too.
Prompt: "How would you write deconditioning?"
[ My lessons on how to write realistic conditioning can be found here. ]
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TW | realistic whump recovery, emotional whump, brief argument, PTSD, flashbacks, intentional deconditioning attempt, implied past character death (whumper)
It wasn't the word itself this time. It was the way Caretaker said it.
"Kneel."
Whumpee went down hard. The mental cursing began when his knees were about two inches from hitting the ground. Too late to stop the movement. Plenty of time to hate himself for following through.
Where his knees hit, the jarring spike of stacking bruises felt like a punch. Failure.
Another. Fucking. Failure.
Whumpee groaned in frustration, hands balling in his hair. Then he was on his feet again, pacing. "Again."
"Whumpee, I think we've had enough for toni—"
"No! No, I need to try again! I have to get this right just once before I stop." He turned again on his heel, leaving another path in the carpet. "We keep going. I just— I just need to keep going."
Caretaker raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he knelt. With that endless patience that was beginning to grate on Whumpee's nerves, "...we have been at this for an hour. Your nerves are getting more and more frayed by the minute. You said yourself that this works best when you're calm."
"And what if I'm wrong?" Whumpee whirled around on him, tears in his eyes. "I keep failing. I've barely managed to stop myself three times this whole week. Out of what? Four dozen attempts? Five? Every time I quit I end up backsliding more and more. I can't keep giving up. This has to work."
"It will be easier—"
"Are you going to say it or not? You said you would help me!"
Caretaker looked taken aback. And just as quickly, his expression shuttered.
"What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?" he asked. "Don't forget— I still get to say 'no', too."
The reminder hit like a slap. Not because Caretaker was wrong. Because he was right.
It had taken everything Whumpee had just to keep making it through the practice sessions. With how bad things had gotten, he barely had the capacity to take care of himself right now. Let alone worry any of the people around him.
Was that how he'd been acting? Was that what Whumpee was denying him? Even the choice to be a part of this?
After standing there for another far too long moment, Whumpee let out a sigh and came back over to Caretaker. He slipped to the floor beside him, folding his knees up to his chest, back pressed to the couch.
Quieter, rougher, "...Yeah. Yeah, you do." He couldn't bring himself to look at him. "I'm sorry."
Although Caretaker didn't say anything, Whumpee could see the moment the tension in his shoulders let go. The fight passed over them like a distant shadow.
"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," Whumpee murmured. He wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on his forearms. "Between the nightmares and the memories... I'm just... I'm so tired." Quieter still, "I can't seem to get that monster out of my head."
"You've not been sleeping." It wasn't a question.
"...I've been trying to. I really have. But I end up just laying there, thinking the same five thoughts on repeat, over and over and over. Things haven't been this bad since—"
A flash of bright light. Wrists rubbed raw. Whumpee was doubled over, arms wrapped around himself. Screaming himself raw with a flood of relief and despair and a hundred other emotions that he could never admit aloud. Blood spreading on the cement floor. Blood that finally, finally wasn't his own.
Whumpee flinched, twisting his face away from the sight. As if this was something he could just look away from. As if the memories weren't printed into his retinas like the afterimage of lightning.
He took a few slow, steadying breaths, shaking on every exhale. Clenched his trembling hands, open and closed. Open and closed. Eventually he managed a raspy, "...since before."
Caretaker watched, worried. But he knew better than to reach for Whumpee without asking first.
"Whumpee... you've been butting up against this same block for weeks now. I've watched you try everything except the most obvious thing there is. You need to rest." Whumpee opened his mouth to say something, but Caretaker cut him off before he could argue. "—I'm not telling you to quit. I know why you can't, and I would never ask it of you. But there's a difference between giving up, and taking enough time to catch your breath before the next sprint."
Whumpee averted his eyes again, throat working against the burn of building tears. But he was listening.
Softer, "You said this was something you'd be working on for the rest of your life. If that's true, then there's time. For just a few days... give yourself some of the softness you went so long without. Take enough time to be gentle with the man you're trying so hard to save."
The words had hit their mark. He watched as Whumpee's face crumpled. His breath hitched once, and he broke into a sob. Then Whumpee finally reached out for him, and Caretaker didn't hesitate to pull him into hug.
He buried his face against Caretaker's chest, everything he'd been holding back falling apart at once. Pain. Despair. Hope. Grief. All of it came pouring out with his voice.
"There. I've got you," Caretaker murmured, closing his eyes. Exhausted, but relieved that something had finally gotten through. "...I've got you."
This is a commission I recently finished for @accidentalcookies and their character Shaoyuan that I was proud enough of to share with you all here! If you're interested in getting a writing commission from me, details are on my commission sheet here, which is also linked on my pinned masterpost.
tagging my usual readers in case you guys are interested as well
the setting is an urban-fantasy sci-fi, set in the same universe as my currently unfinished book, Spiritborne. It contains spirit magic, elemental magic, and dragon people. For the sake of the commission, many worldbuilding and character details have gone unexplained here, but any cold-callers (everyone tbh) should be able to grasp things fairly easily
CWs/content list: male whumpee, coercion, dead bodies, gunshots, hidden injury, injury reveal, temporary character death, smoking, general living weapon vibes
Addison and Kre'nuah stepped out of the car, shivering as the icy midnight air nipped at their skin and scales. The lights from police cars flashed all around them, illuminating the crime scene, where two of their coworkers had already set up. Addison hated getting called out this late, but their team were the only spiritually-trained forensic investigators in Middrest, so it was really just part of the job when the crime involved some sort of magic. Still begged the question of why the chief wanted four agents on the scene for a single DB, though.
She could see Shaoyuan — their resident Spirit Manipulation expert and second-newest addition to their department — already deep in meditation a few meters away from the body. Dahlia, the newest rookie after Shaoyuan, was crouched next to it, hugging herself and shivering.
Addison wasn't sure how she felt about Shaoyuan yet. The second he arrived, the entire balance of power in the office shifted. It used to be, Addison and Brig were neck-and-neck for the title of 'best at Spirit Manipulation,' then Shaoyuan arrived from nowhere and blew them both out of the water with an unprecedented amount of natural skill. Not even the Master — the one who taught Addison everything she knew — was as good as him. He didn't have a fused spirit to guide him like Addison did, either. He really was just that good, all on his own.
Addison couldn't help but be a little jealous, but talent at Spirit Manipulation didn't translate to skill at forensic investigation, so her spot as top agent remained unchallenged, and that was all she really cared about.
And really, when it came down to it, Shaoyuan didn't seem to be a bad sort. A little odd, maybe, but if you asked Brig, he'd say the same about her. He made a habit of dropping a fresh cup of coffee at her desk whenever he came over to discuss evidence, and that was all it really took to get past her outer walls. Dahlia had done the same back when she first joined, and now they were meeting up for secret late-night trysts every few days. Obviously the dynamic was a little different with Shaoyuan considering he was a man, but the point was that, in Addison's book, he was alright.
The two of them walked over to the presiding detective, and Kre'nuah greeted him.
"Hey, Shinagawa," she said in that rumbly krytian voice of hers. "What do we have?"
Detective Keisuke Shinagawa turned to them, nodding in greeting. "Hey, guys. Didn't know the SAA would be sending more." He brought up his palm-implant holo, scrolling through notes for a moment. "Here it is. Vic's name is Howard Jorgensen, 28. Found an ID in his wallet. Tattoo on his arm says he's one of the Havard Family, though probably low-ranking. If you ask me, this was a gang hit."
"Any guess on which?" Addison asked. "There are probably half-a-dozen small time street gangs trying to move in on the Havard Family's turf."
Shinagawa shrugged. "All I can say is, there's a bucketload of clear magic usage evidence. Whether that indicates one way or another, I'm not sure, but it's why we called you guys in instead of the regular CSI."
"We'll take a look around," she replied.
"Addy!"
Addison glanced over to the crime scene, only to find Dahlia heading towards them, waving.
She ran up to them, wrapping her arms back around herself. Her breath came out as steam. "Can I borrow your spare coat again?"
Addison raised an eyebrow. "Can't you warm yourself up? You've got Fire krytian blood."
Dahlia shook her head. "Can't, it'll mess up Shaoyuan's reading. There's a shit-ton of krytian magic residue at the scene. If I used my Element, it would leave a mark and contaminate the evidence."
Addison handed her the keys. "It's on the back seat where you left it. We'll meet you at the body."
"Sure thing!" With that, Dahlia sped off towards the car.
"You keep a spare coat in your car for her? That's adorable," Nuah said, cooing.
"She'd forget her own tail if it wasn't attached to her ass. Come on," Addison deflected, ducking under the crime scene tape and heading for the victim.
Howard Jorgensen laid on his back, staring blankly up at the dark sky. His face was bruised and bloody, as were his clothes. Scattered debris surrounded the body, and he had a pistol in his hand. This was clearly an extended altercation.
"What do we have?" Nuah asked, coming up behind her.
Addison pointed at the chest. "Circular puncture wounds consistent with Element-generated icicles. Blunt force trauma on the head and face, speckled with rock debris. Burns on the hands, possible defensive wounds. He was attacked by at least three separate krytians, each of a different Element."
"All attacking at once so there's no one definitive culprit, huh?" Nuah said.
"All it means is that they're all culpable for the murder."
Dahlia returned to them, now wrapped up in Addison's coat. "Thanks, Addy. That's much better."
"No problem," she replied. "What can you tell me about the body?"
Dahlia crouched down on the opposite side. "The coroner was here earlier, confirmed time of death was about two hours ago. Also, check out his eyes."
Addison pulled her gloves on and pried open the victim's eyelids.
"Petechial hemorrhaging," she noted, seeing the scattered red dots in his sclera. "Asphyxiation, then?"
"That's my guess, but we'll know more once the autopsy gets done."
"Places an air krytian at the scene, too," Nuah said.
"Two, actually."
Addison jumped, her heart racing at the sudden voice behind her. She whirled around, holding a hand over her chest.
"Spirits, Shaoyuan! Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry," he replied simply, staring down at her with those sharp blue eyes of his. Addison knew he didn't mean to be unsettling, but she could never shake the thought that he always sort of looked like his body died a few days ago and his soul didn't get the memo to move out.
She sighed, putting it behind her. "What have you got?"
"I've finished my analysis of the scene. There were five assailants, all krytian-blooded. One for each major Element, plus an extra air krytian. All five used their magic to assault Mr. Jorgensen. First was fire, from here." He moved into position, holding his hands out to mimic a krytian throwing a wave of flame. "Then earth, from here." He did the same, and again and again for each one of the attackers. The two air krytian were next, followed by water. It appeared that, despite the icicle impalement being the last event in the timeline, having the air sucked from his lungs was ultimately what did Mr. Jorgensen in.
"Do you think you'd be able to track their magic signatures through the city?" Addison asked.
Shaoyuan tilted his head. Addison was reminded of the stray cat that appears at her window some nights. "Of course. It might take me a while, though. Middrest's a big place, and there are a lot of magic users to sort through."
Addison nodded. "Head back to the office and get started on that, then. I'll take the lead on the physical investigation here."
"What's the magic word?" he asked, expression flat and unchanging.
Addison resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Please."
Shaoyuan bowed dramatically. "Of course, mademoiselle. Whatever you need."
Addison snorted. "Alright, alright, get going."
He unravelled back to full height, nodding to her. "I'll update you once I'm done."
"Sure."
With that, he turned and slinked off into the cold darkness, fluid and graceful like the flow of his Element. Addison watched him go.
She really just could not get a read on that guy. It could never be said that he wasn't damn good at his job, though.
—
Shaoyuan's disembodied soul flittered through the metaphysical plane, searching for a trace of the magical signatures he'd memorised before. He started back at the crime scene, following the lingering stains of the culprits on their path away from the murder. The trail turned colder the longer they went without using their Elements, until eventually he lost track of them.
It was hardly surprising. Despite his immense skill at Spirit Manipulation, there was no way to follow a path that wasn't there, and unless the culprits used their Elements again any time soon — which they wouldn't if they knew anything about spirit forensics — no new paths would be made. He had their signatures, though. With a little bit of patience and vigilance, he would be able to track them down.
With a sigh, Shaoyuan's soul returned to his body. Immediately, he felt the presence of another person nearby.
"Chief," he greeted, standing up off the floor of the empty briefing room and turning around to look at him.
Chief Aland bore a grave expression; his usual affable mask nowhere to be seen. Shaoyuan appreciated that Aland didn't play pretend with him like he did with the others. They both knew what Aland was. They both knew what Shaoyuan was. Pretence was a waste of time.
"Did you find them?" Aland asked.
Shaoyuan shook his head. "The trail went cold. But I'm locked onto their signatures. The second one of them uses their Element again, I'll feel it."
"When you do locate them, I want you to go take them out. Remind them of what happens when they mess with the Havard family."
"Take out five people at once? I'm not sure I have the income for all of those dinner dates," Shaoyuan deadpanned, trying to cover up the way his gut turned at the order.
"Don't get cute," Aland snapped. "Remember, the only reason you're here is because I stuck my neck out for you getting you this job so you could pay off your debt. You have no official forensic qualifications whatsoever. If I wanted, I could fire you with the snap of my fingers, and you'd have to find some other, much less savoury way to pay off your debt to us. So, when I tell you to do something outside the scope of your regular work, you do it. Because you're grateful."
Shaoyuan was tempted to mention that Aland ordering him to do stuff like that kind of ruined the whole point of having a legal, 'honourable' job, but he held his tongue. The only reason Aland would've given him the SAA position in the first place was to have an inside man to do his dirty work, even if he wanted to frame it as a benevolent action. No matter what Shaoyuan did, he would never be anything more than a killer.
"With all due respect, sir, the culprits left behind a lot of evidence. There's not much chance they'll get away with the crime. If we just process the case normally, they'll be dealt with, without putting any more Havard assets at risk."
Aland shook his head. "This isn't about justice for Jorgensen's death, Shaoyuan. This is about reminding the Blood of the Dragon and all of those other small time street gangs about what happens when they intrude on Havard family turf. Get it done and wash your hands of it, or get used to being a Havard assassin full-time, because you won't be keeping your job as a forensic investigator, and killing's about all you're good for otherwise."
Aland turned, about to walk out, but Shaoyuan stopped him. He wasn't the type to not pay off his debts, and after everything the Havard family did for him and his siblings, a few assassinations were a small price to pay, but this just seemed petty and foolish.
"Sir, what if I get caught? There's no way I can pull off five assassinations without leaving any evidence behind, and you know this case is going to end up on our desks. If they find out I did it, it'll be traced back to the Havard family, and inevitably to you. It just seems like a foolish risk."
Aland turned back around, one eyebrow raised. "Why all the questions, Shaoyuan? Don't you have any faith in me? I've kept my connection to the family a secret for decades; do you really think something will slip because of a case that will be passing through me? I'll ensure your involvement is hidden, and the case will go cold. In fact, I'll take the lead on it myself. Happy?"
No. Shaoyuan was never happy. "Addison will ask questions. You know she will. I've only known her for a few months, but even I can see she's not the type to let something like this go. She might not be as good as me at Spirit Manipulation, but she's an extremely skilled detective. She'll know something's not right."
"That's why I'm not going to give Addison the case. And, you're right, she is an extremely skilled detective. In fact, I'd say there's even a chance she'll find the suspects in this case before you do. And what do you think will happen then? Why do you think I need this done so urgently?"
It only took a moment for the realisation to cross Shaoyuan's mind. He clenched his fist.
"That's right. She's going to do what she always does, and follow up on the lead alone. It'll be five krytians against one Spiritborne with a prosthetic arm and whose only unique ability is generating light. If she's lucky, she'll just be killed. I doubt she'll be lucky, knowing how Blood of the Dragon operates."
Aland sauntered up close to Shaoyuan, placing a hand on his arm. "I don't want my best agent to be killed, Shaoyuan. And I know you don't want to put her at risk either. So sit your ass back down, find their energy signatures, and kill them before she walks bullheaded into her own death. That is an order. I will not ask again."
Shaoyuan clenched his teeth. Aland was absolutely right. This wasn't about paying back his debt anymore, or assassinating the krytians. He had to protect Addison, at any cost.
He nodded. "I understand, sir. Consider it done."
—
As expected, it wasn't long before he picked up another energy signature from the culprits. One little burst of flame was all it took — no doubt to light a cigarette or something — and Shaoyuan knew their exact location; a run-down warehouse down in the industrial district, probably abandoned at some point and converted into an outpost for their gang. Astral projecting his soul over their to scout the place out, he found only the five targets present. There would be no other distractions.
Time to go do what he did best.
—
"Hey Addison, I got that trace analysis done for you," one of the scientists at the regular CSI offices said, coming up to her with a file in hand as she passed by his station.
"On that rust stain in the shoe print?" she questioned, trying to recall what evidence she gave him to check out.
He nodded. "Yeah, and get this. It's galvanised steel."
She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think anywhere in Middrest still used that since spirit-based metallurgy spread up here?"
"That's the thing; they don't. The only places that would still have anything made with galvanised steel would be really old. Like, before Middrest was even technically a city old. It tracks with the amount of rust too, because it would take a while for galvanised steel to oxidise enough to produce this big of a stain. Probably a wet environment as well, considering it stuck to the culprit's shoe like that."
Addison nodded, taking the file from him. "Thanks, Jim. I'll follow up on it."
Her business here concluded, Addison made her way back to the SAA building next door, taking the elevator up to the Investigations Department office. Dahlia and Nuah were both at their desks, but Shaoyuan was still nowhere to be found. Odd.
"Hey Dahlia, have you seen Shaoyuan? He still hasn't reported back to me."
Dahlia looked up from the file she was reading. "Nah, he was gone when I arrived. Dunno where."
Addison hummed. That was strange. But, Shaoyuan could take care of himself, and she needed to focus on the investigation. "Have you found anything?"
Dahlia shook her head. "Nope. I've been looking at Jorgensen's criminal record, but he just seems like a regular crime family thug. Nothing stands out that seems like it would make him a target for other gangs."
"I don't think this was personal to Jorgensen. Any other Havard guy could've taken his place. Have you heard of Blood of the Dragon?"
Dahlia snorted. "Duh. I grew up in the underground. Half the businesses in my neighbourhood paid them protection fees."
Addison nodded. "Then you know they've been making pushes up into Middrest; into Havard family territory. A kill out in the open like this isn't from some little scuffle. It's an act of war. It's a message, saying "We're here, and there's nothing you can do about it.""
Dahlia raised an eyebrow. "You think they've claimed a proper outpost in Middrest?"
"I do," Addison replied. She raised the file with the trace results. "And I bet if we cross-check all surviving buildings that used galvanised steel in their construction, or housed it in some way, we'll find them."
Dahlia nodded, grinning. "Let's get to it, then."
—
The first sign that something was wrong was the sharp, persisting throb in Shaoyuan's abdomen. The second sign was that his hand came away covered in red when he touched the spot, blood seeping invisibly into his black suit. He winced, a bolt of pain radiating from the wound. Funny. All those flames and rocks flying around, and it was a plain old bullet that got him. He supposed that was just his luck.
The job started out stealthy, as he picked the lock on one of the warehouse doors and slipped inside, choosing his targets. The two Air krytians were priority. Water was his own element; he could handle someone else attacking him with it. Fire could be easily doused. Earth could've been a problem, but this particular krytian didn't seem too adept at her Element, judging by the meagre damage to the victim back at the crime scene. Air was the real danger. One sweep of the hand, and the oxygen would be pulled from his lungs, condemning him to a slow death by asphyxiation. They had to be taken out first.
The first one went down fine; already isolated in a corner, looking out across the space with their back to the shadows. Shaoyuan's knife slipped through their scales, deep into the soft spot at the back of their skull, severing their brain stem and ending their life in a painless instant. He caught their body as they fell, preventing any noise and allowing him to search their pockets for anything useful. All he found was a matchbook. He decided to keep it.
The second Air krytian posed more of a problem. Whether it was because they noticed a disturbance in the air, or the disappearance of their friend, Shaoyuan didn't know, but as soon as he was done with his first target, the next one came power-walking over to investigate. In their more alert state, it would be harder to get the drop on them. But Shaoyuan would manage. Stealth was valuable, but after both Air krytians were dead, it was also entirely optional.
So, as the target approached, Shaoyuan called on his Element, reaching out to the moisture in the air around him, and swept his hand forward. Condensation formed into droplets, which joined into a thin, high-pressure stream, spearing right between the krytian's fourth and fifth ribs and into their heart. They hit the floor with a loud crash, dead before they could even register what was happening.
From there, things quickly descended into chaos. The three remaining krytians realised what was going on and moved to attack. Shaoyuan flowed effortlessly between them, dousing flames with spurts of water, blocking rocks with summoned spirit-shields, deftly avoiding the icicles thrown by his Elemental kin, all the while twirling that high-pressure stream around and using it to stab and pierce their bodies. He heard a few gunshots crack off from the Earth krytian, once she realised the futility of attacking with her Element, but he paid them no mind. A mistake, perhaps, as he failed to even register exactly which shot hit him. He got the job done regardless.
And then, it was now, and Shaoyuan was standing amidst the broken bodies of his targets, bleeding from the gut, his pain steadily growing as the adrenaline of the fight died down. Judging by the rate of blood loss, the bullet probably nicked more than a few veins, if not an artery. Without surgical intervention, he'd be dead within an hour. This hadn't been part of his plan. What was he going to do?
It wasn't that death worried him; no, that was an issue he had long since taken care of. A temporary inconvenience, at best. The issue came from this situation. It would take a little while for him to come back once he died, and he doubted this warehouse would stay empty for that long. Either Addison would catch up to him, or the krytian's allies would come to check on them. Neither situation would be ideal, considering he was supposed to have nothing to do with these murders.
Or, maybe both choices led down the same path? Maybe Addison would come along, find him with his targets, piece things together and leave him there to rot, until the Blood of the Dragon picked him up. It would be no less than he deserved. This facade of a normal life could only last for so long. Those faces he'd grown to find comfort in seeing every day would turn against him. It was inevitable. He shouldn't have let himself get attached. He was never really a part of their team; just an outsider, passing through.
Well, he walked here, so running away wasn't an option with the time he had left. Might as well just roll the dice and wait for the result.
Shaoyuan limped over to the Fire krytian's body, remembering that he'd been smoking a cigarette when he entered. Sure enough, he found a pack of xyroot cigarettes in the inside pocket of the krytian's coat. Slightly bloodstained, but that was okay. So was Shaoyuan. He pulled one out, slipped it between his lips, and lit it with a match from the matchbook he found earlier. A small indulgence before the end of this new life of his.
He made his way over to the nearest wall as the calming substance suffused through his body, slumping against it before slowly sliding down to take a seat on the floor. The bullet wound throbbed steadily with his heartbeat, reaching a point where he couldn't ignore it anymore. Wincing and taking another puff from the cigarette, Shaoyuan closed his eyes and tried to meditate as he waited for the end to come.
Only, a few minutes later, the quiet was broken by the sound of a car pulling up outside. He detected no spirit energy coming from it during his meditation, meaning it had to be electric. There was only one person he knew who was old-fashioned enough to still be driving an electric car in the year 2174. Addison Brightwater. She'd shown up much earlier than expected.
Maybe he could still salvage this.
Mustering all of his strength, Shaoyuan forced himself up. The world spun drunkenly around him, but he steeled himself and pressed on, fighting the pain to present an unhurt facade as he quickly came up with a cover story in his head. Nothing was lost yet.
Wasting no more time, Shaoyuan buttoned up his suit jacket to cover the bullet hole in his torso, and limped out of the warehouse.
—
Addison's investigation led her to one very specific spot; a warehouse, built during the early days of Middrest — back when it was still just a glorified trading post — which had passed into public ownership about seventy years ago and sat unused until now, right in the middle of a hotspot of gang activity. She had a few other spots she could potentially check out, but this one was the most obvious choice by far, to the point that she would be surprise if she didn't find any evidence there.
She and Dahlia — who insisted on coming no matter what Addison said — stepped out of the car, into the old, pot-hole filled parking lot.
"I don't hear anything," Dahlia said. "Do you?"
Addison listened. Wind howled, rattling the sheet metal of the walls. Cars hummed by back on the road. There were no sounds to suggest any sort of activity in the building itself. No visual cues either, aside from an open padlock and a chain lying next to the door, distinctly pristine for how degraded the surrounding material was.
"No, but someone's definitely used the place recently."
Right as she said that, the door opened. The two of them jumped into defensive stances, but of course, it was only Shaoyuan. Addison should've predicted. He was always showing up where she least expected.
"What are you doing here?" Dahlia asked. Addison looked him over. His hair was a little frazzled, and his skin was, somehow, a touch paler than usual, but he didn't seem injured.
"I followed up on a lead," Shaoyuan replied. His words slurred a little. "Went inside and found the culprits. Things got out of hand."
Addison stepped around him as he spoke, taking a peek through the doorway. Her throat tightened.
"They're all dead?"
"I'm trained in advanced self-defence with my Element," was Shaoyuan's flat response.
"Spirits, Shaoyuan! We're not authorised to use lethal force with no police on the scene!"
He turned, meeting her frantic gaze.
"I'm sorry."
She sighed, rubbing her temple. This was going to be a legal nightmare, but ultimately, he was defending himself. She couldn't blame him for that.
"Are you hurt?" Dahlia asked before Addison got the chance.
"I'm a little shaky. One of you should drive us back."
"When was the last time you ate?" Addison asked, chalking up the shakes to adrenaline and hunger. Shaoyuan just shrugged noncommittally. She sighed again. "I'll take you back to the office so we can talk about this with everyone and get you some food. Dahlia, stick around and set up a crime scene, please. Get the coroner in for prelim."
"No problem, Lightshow," she replied.
Addison looked back at Shaoyuan. "Is that all fine with you?"
He nodded, slow and accepting, as if it was a weight off of his shoulders. "Okay."
—
Shaoyuan rested his head against the window, trying not to look too dead in case Addison glanced in the rear-view mirror to check on him. The pain had dulled to a slow achy throb, and a chill had begun to set in at his extremities. The world around him faded into the distance, like he was witnessing it through a thick sheet of glass. It wouldn't be long now.
The radio was playing some song or other. Shaoyuan tried to grasp the words or the beat, but they slipped out of his mind like grains of sand through his fingers, instead just ringing discordantly against his ears. That was fine. It was a mild annoyance at best.
He wondered if Addison would be mad at him for dying in her car. Probably. She already seemed pretty angry before. And who could blame her? He knew how seriously she took justice and the legal system, and he basically just spit in the face of all of that, just because he couldn't say no to Aland.
It was funny. Back at the start of all of this, he wondered if the two of them could turn out to be friends. They were so very similar. She was one of the only people in the office he could talk to that wouldn't fill the conversation with unnecessary idioms and double-meanings. Now, though... Even if he got through the legal hell to come without getting indicted for the krytian's murders, he couldn't see her forgiving him for literally dying in her back seat. There would be too many questions once he came back; too many secrets brought uncomfortably close to the light. 'Where did you learn that skill?' 'Why didn't you tell us where you were going?' 'How did you manage to kill all five krytians on your own?' 'Where exactly did the Chief hire you from?'
The only thing in the SAA office stronger than his Spirit Manipulation skills was her sense of justice. If she knew even a hint of what he used to be — what he still was in many ways — she would want nothing to do with him. And none of that was even mentioning the fact that he was bleeding all over her nice upholstery.
But... That was just what he got for daring to hope for something nice. Nice things didn't happen to people like him.
As the darkness began to pool at the edges of his vision, Shaoyuan closed his eyes and thought of his siblings. Wherever they were, he hoped it was a better place than here. He hoped they got to have all the nice things he was denied.
He hoped they were happy.
Shaoyuan breathed out. He didn't breathe back in again.
—
Addison rubbed her eyes as she sat at the stop light, exhaustion seeping into her bones from the midnight call-out. She just couldn't wrap her head around this situation with Shaoyuan. It was such a mess.
"Are you okay, Shaoyuan?" she asked, mostly on a whim. "You've been quiet."
He didn't reply. She glanced up at the rear-view mirror, tilting her head to see him.
Slumped against the window, mouth slightly ajar. Heavy bags under his eyes accentuated by his corpse-pale skin. He must've passed out.
Addison hummed. Something about that didn't sit right with her.
"Why on earth would he do that?" she muttered to herself, though in truth she knew the likely answer. Simple inexperience and an over-eagerness to get things done. She probably would've done the exact same thing as him a few years ago, only it wouldn't have ended nearly as well for her. She was just lucky to have people like Dahlia to hold her accountable when she got too absorbed in an investigation now. If only she'd been able to do the same for him.
Once again, she found herself wondering where exactly he came from. As far as she could tell, he had no discernible forensic skills outside of his Spirit Manipulation abilities, and there were very few places one could learn to wield their Element so effectively. To come out on top in a five-on-one fight was no small feat. He had to have years of experience in some sort of combat-facing role. A secret government agent, maybe? Transferred into spirit forensics as a way to integrate back into normal life? As outlandish as the theory was, Addison was unsettled by its plausibility. With how much — or, how little — she knew about Shaoyuan's past before joining the SAA, anything could be possible.
But, when it came down to it, those matters were his business. Just because it presented a tantalising mystery didn't give her the right to dig through his personal life. Right now, all that mattered was dealing with this train-wreck of a case.
She pulled into the office parking garage and turned off the ignition. Time to face the music.
"Shaoyuan, we're here," Addison said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Once again, he didn't respond. She sighed, getting out of the car and moving around to the back seat.
"Come on, buddy. Wake up," she said, opening the door he was slumped against. Shaoyuan slumped further without the door's support, now only held up by his seatbelt. Addison frowned.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked, reaching out to gently shake him. He didn't react.
Now notably concerned, Addison carefully reached over and placed two fingers at his pulse point.
Nothing.
Fear constricted her insides, but she had to make sure before she got carried away. She leaned forward, carefully placing her ear against his chest.
The inside of his body was totally silent.
Shaoyuan was dead.
"Oh... Oh spirits..." she muttered, pulling away. Her palm stuck to the seat a little as she retreated. When she turned it over to check, she found it covered in red.
Once she knew to look, it wasn't hard to find the bullet hole, despite the blood blending into his dark clothing. How could something like this happen? Why didn't he say anything? She could've gotten him to a hospital in time. Now, it was too late...
Addison stared for a long, awfully silent moment before autopilot kicked in. Gently, she shut the car door and stepped into the elevator, her ears ringing and her mind racing. If she'd just gotten to the scene sooner, maybe she could've helped him. Or, maybe there was nothing anyone could've done. Maybe, it was just his time.
She clenched her fist. Just because it was his time didn't make it right. It didn't matter that she didn't know, she still should've done something. Alyx or the Chief would've noticed something was wrong. They would've seen him shaking and demanded a closer inspection. How could she be so blind?
The elevator dinged at its destination, and she stepped out into the office. Kre'nuah looked up at her.
"Hey Addy, you alright?"
"Shaoyuan is dead."
Nuah's face dropped, and she stood up. Across the office, Alyx Luaz, the department Vice-Chief, got up from her desk as well. "What? Where?"
Addison took a breath to compose herself. "He's... downstairs in my car, in the garage. Dahlia and I found him at the warehouse, where we found out he'd gone ahead of us and was attacked by the suspects. He killed them all in self-defence, and didn't report any injuries. I left Dahlia to set up the scene and took Shaoyuan back here to debrief. By the time I arrived, he wasn't responding. I checked him over and found no pulse, and a gunshot wound in his abdomen. He... must've been in shock or something. I don't know. I don't know what to do."
The Vice-Chief walked over, placing a gentle hand on Addison's shoulder.
"Take us to him," she asked softly.
—
His body was right where she'd left it; lying still in the back seat of her car, slumped against the door as if he'd just gone to sleep.
"I don't understand how I missed it," she muttered as Nuah opened the door.
"You're not a doctor, Addison," Alyx said. "Don't beat yourself up over it. It's not your fault."
"Still. I should've done something."
Alyx frowned, looking at Shaoyuan's body. "Wait. I'm... sensing something. Did you do a metaphysical examination?"
Addison shook her head. "No, I just checked his pulse."
Alyx closed her eyes for a long moment. Addison felt a presence flit by her, rising goosebumps on her skin. Minor spirits in the metaphysical plane, sending messages through each other in response to Alyx's prompting, like trillions of intangible neurons. She opened her eyes again.
"There's minor spirit activity around his wound, as though someone's performing Spirit Healing on him."
"What?" Addison questioned. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Was his soul still present?" Nuah asked. She was less versed on Spirit Manipulation than the rest of them, so it made sense that she would ask such a simple question.
"No," Alyx replied. "It would have left when he died. Although, there was some odd spirit activity besides the healing. Like a bunch of them linked together and connected to his body in some sort of tether. For what purpose, I'm unsure, and if it's a Spirit Manipulation technique, it's not one I'm familiar with."
"What are we going to do?" Addison asked.
Alyx sighed, taking a moment to think about it. "We have to treat it like any other investigation. Nuah, you go back to the scene and give Dahlia a hand. Addison and I will stay with Shaoyuan."
"Alright. I'll let the coroner-"
Someone coughed. Shaoyuan's body jerked in the corner of Addison's eye. She whirled around to look at him.
"Shaoyuan?" she whispered. His body was still.
"Addison... He's dead," Alyx said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"No, I just saw him move!"
Did she just imagine it? It wouldn't be the first time her mind played tricks on her. But, no, she was certain she saw it.
"Come on Addison, let's go back to the office and get you a glass of water, alright?"
"No, just look!"
Alyx gave in and turned her head. Right at that moment, Shaoyuan's finger twitched.
—
Resurrecting could never be called a comfortable affair. It was much like waking up with stiff muscles after falling asleep in an awkward position, only with your entire body, internal organs and all. The heart was designed to keep pumping continuously for its entire lifetime. It wasn't designed to sit still long enough for the blood to start clotting inside of it, and then start up again. But, alas, the heart was the first and most important thing to wake up, because without blood to transport oxygen, none of the other organs would be able to get back up and running.
There were very few times Shaoyuan was grateful for all the horrible magical experimentation his family put him through to create the most powerful weapon they could, but he'd always be thankful for the ability to cheat death, even as unpleasant as it was. Through a series of invisible runes and a permanent tether of minor spirits, his soul would be kept from straying too far after his body died. Then, the runes would activate, and begin to encourage Spirit Healing on whatever wounds he'd acquired. Finally, once the damage was in a manageable state, the runes would wake his body back up, and the tether would pull in his soul. For him, the experience wasn't all that different from astral projecting, at least until he had to return to an almost-dead body.
This resurrection was no different. Shaoyuan felt his awareness return as his soul slipped back into place. Extremities twitched as nerves and muscles came back online. He breathed slowly, so as to not upset his airways. Pain radiated up and down his body, centred at the place he'd been shot. That would still need some medical attention later. But, knowing his luck, he was probably in a morgue right now, so that shouldn't be a problem. His senses were still waking up, so his surroundings weren't clear just yet.
"Shaoyuan? Shaoyuan!"
"Hold on, give him some space! Wait until the medic arrives!"
Addison's voice, and the Vice-Chief's. Why would they both be in the morgue? Only one would be needed, and just to follow up on an autopsy. Except, there definitely hadn't been one. Otherwise, Shaoyuan'd be in a lot more pain right now.
More people clamoured on around him, and Shaoyuan just focused on waking himself up. He had to figure out what was going on here. Why could he hear Addison, Vice-Chief Luaz, and Kre'nuah's voices? Why would they care enough to wait by his body on the mortuary slab? Hadn't they figured out what he'd done yet?
Finally, after a long period of reacclimation in his body, Shaoyuan regained enough awareness to open his eyes and look around. He found his ex-corpse right where he left it; in the backseat of Addison's car. Only now, he was surrounded by the concerned faces of his coworkers, looking down at him in bewildered alarm.
He blinked up at them, vision still blurry. "What's the occasion?"
Addison stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape. The Vice-Chief stepped in front of her. "Are you alright, Shaoyuan? We lost you for a moment there."
He took a moment to compose himself. "Yes, I'm fine. Must've just passed out."
He tried to get up, but apparently his legs hadn't woken up yet. They buckled out from under him as he exited the car, prompting another bolt of fiery pain from his still-slowly-bleeding wound. Kre'nuah caught him before he could fully collapse.
"No, you're not fine!" Addison all-but shouted. "You were dead! I checked your heartbeat and heard nothing! You can't just pretend like you're okay when you just bled out in the back of my fucking car!"
Shaoyuan froze. He'd never heard Addison swear before.
But, of course. This was what he'd been expecting. He already knew she'd be furious with him before he died, and it would be no less than he deserved. So why did her scorn sting so much?
"Addison..." the Vice-Chief softly chided.
"No!" she yelled, taking a step forward to lightly push Shaoyuan's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me you were injured?! I thought I killed you by taking you back here instead of to the hospital! I thought... ugh!"
She whirled around, shoulders hitching. Shaoyuan felt like broken glass, still trying to piece himself together after being shattered.
"Are you... crying?"
"No!" Addison choked, hugging herself. "You just... You can't just do that to me! You could've told me it would be okay!"
"I'm sorry..." Shaoyuan croaked, voice still unsteady from reanimation. "I didn't realise you would care so much."
"Of course I care!" Addison yelled, spinning back around. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was wet. She covered her mouth, shrinking in on herself under everyone's scrutiny. "You guys are... all I have. I don't want to lose any of you. I know we haven't known each other for that long, but I still care about you,Shaoyuan. You're one of us. So, yeah, sorry for getting a little worked up after you died in my car."
Her voice echoed through the garage before fading into silence. Shaoyuan stared at her. This didn't make any sense. Addison wasn't supposed to care about him. He should've been nothing more than a passing acquaintance to her. And yet, she wasn't mad at him for what he did. She was mad because he made her worry.
Something strange bubbled up inside of him. It was distinctly uncomfortable.
"Um..." he mumbled. "I'd offer you a hug, but you'd get blood on your clothes."
She huffed, wiping her eyes. "Idiot..."
"Oh, and... sorry for... bleeding all over your seat."
Addison sniffled, staring at the ground. "You're paying for the dry cleaning," she muttered.
"Come on, let's get you to a medic," the Vice-Chief said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "After that, I'd like to hear all about what happened at the warehouse, alright?"
Shaoyuan hummed, stepping away from Kre'nuah's support and allowing himself to be led to the elevator. "Is the Chief here?"
Luaz shook her head. "No, he left a little while ago. You're stuck with us."
Interesting. Without Aland there to intercept, Shaoyuan wasn't sure what would happen now. His future had become cloudy and uncertain.
But, what was new there? Like always, Shaoyuan would weather the storm, and make it through to the other side. Facing it felt... a little easier, knowing that maybe, just maybe, there might be a few good people waiting for him on the other side.
—
Addison held her coffee cup without drinking from it, letting the warmth seep into her hand, trying to wrap her head around this situation now that Shaoyuan had been treated and shared the whole story.
He didn't go out there alone because he was trying to get ahead of the investigation; Chief Aland sent him, totally against protocol. What Addison couldn't understand was why.
Did he already know about this resurrection ability Shaoyuan had? Even so, sending him alone was still a wild breach of ethics and morality. Not to mention the fact that he was almost guaranteed to be forced into a fight. Aland might as well have ordered the deaths of those suspects himself. Addison just couldn't understand it.
The door opened, and Alyx entered the breakroom. "You feeling better, Addison? Haven't seen you that shaken up in a while."
She nodded. "Yeah, well... Having a coworker die in my back seat and stain the upholstery can be pretty traumatic."
Alyx huffed. "Keep trying to pretend you care more about your car seat than Shaoyuan. Eventually, you might convince someone."
Addison grunted at the jab, hiding the small tickle of amusement. "No, I'm just... thinking about things. Why would the Chief send him out like that?"
Alyx's face darkened. She looked down at the floor. "I don't know. All the years I've known the man, he's never done something like that before. It's not like the case was anything special, either. It's... unusual."
Something uneasy settled in Addison's gut. "What are we going to do about it?"
Alyx looked up and smiled, and Addison felt the sight clear some of the discomfort within her. If the Vice-Chief was confident, everything would turn out alright.
"You just focus on your cases. I'll keep an eye on things. Don't worry; if something's going on, we'll get to the bottom of it."
And, really, how could Addison not believe her when she said it like that?
