#FILE:// OF COURSE SIR. IT’S— :// INTERROGATION

[passionwillow]

Don’t You Leave Me

Hi guys! Back with more smutty stuff. You’re injured on the job and Gibbs just about loses his mind. Smut and age gap and angst! 18 NOT PROOF READ

I skipped over my usual detailed smut writing and went for something more- romantic? Idk.

“Where the hell is she?”

Gibbs’ voice rang out around the room, bringing everyone to attention. DiNozzo and Ziva shared a brief look, bodies stiff as Gibbs approached.

McGee stood and swallowed hard, voice trembling but firm as he spoke to the angry man in front of him. “She’s in autopsy with Ducky. Not- not in that way, sir, she’s alive, of course. But he’s checking her over and patching her up.”

DiNozzo and Ziva winced at the hard look Gibbs gave McGee before storming off towards the elevators, steps eerily silent as he made his way through the room.

"Nice, McGee," Tony started to jab, but the smack to his head from Ziva made him fall quiet.

Gibbs was furious with himself for even letting you out into the field. You were Abby's assistant, a job the dark haired girl initially didn't find necessary. But your humor was just like hers, and the caffeine addiction you shared made you two a comical duo. She soon came to love your presence.

You'd gone out with Ducky to help him while Palmer was sick, a simple task that should have taken an hour or so. But the suspect ended up still being in the house, and he'd gone after you in a panic. Trying to take you hostage, simply losing his mind because he was caught, that was for an interrogator to figure out.

You weren't sure how many kicks you'd taken to the ribs, or how exactly your face had gotten cut up. But Ducky was doing a fine job cleaning and bandaging them.

The older medical examiner was filing the silence with talk about some woman's body he'd examined years ago when the sliding doors to autopsy hissed open. Your eyes found blue ones filled with anger and guilt and panic. Ducky was quick to move out of the way and give you space with Gibbs.

His hands came up and cupped your cheeks, eyes studying the cuts and bruises on your skin. "Are you okay?" His voice was low and shaky, his thumb brushing over one of the bandages.

"Gibbs, I'm fine," you promised, gently grabbing is wrist and squeezing. "I'm just sore. I'll be alright." His eyes stayed glued to yours, as if he was looking for a flicker of deceit in your eyes. He eventually pulled away and looked at Ducky, the older man distracting himself with the equipment on a nearby table.

"Yes, Jethro, she will be just fine. Nothing rest and sleep and some Tylenol can't fix," he said with a wave of his hand. He didn't need to look up to know what the silver haired boss was asking with his eyes.

Gibbs cracked a faint smile and looked back to you, holding his hand out to you and helping you off the table. "You aren't staying alone tonight,” he stated, his tone leaving little room for argument.

You knew better than to tell him you didn’t need a babysitter, but there was a part of you that wanted the company. The adrenaline had worn off and you knew he could feel your hands trembling.

He led you to the elevator and stood quietly beside you, waiting for the jostling and humming motors before flipping the switch. The lights dimmed, the humming of the elevator stopped, and Gibbs was facing you.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You looked up into his blue eyes, frozen in place by the concern and fear there. You swallowed against the lump in your throat before shaking your head, the trembling in your hands moving through the rest of your body.

“I didn’t-.. I’m not prepared for stuff like that. I don’t-..” you trailed off as Gibbs pulled you to his chest, one hand on your back and the other holding your head, cradling you as he spoke.

“He never should have been there. The area was cleared by the police and they missed the bastard. I’m sorry, I never should have put you in that situation.” He mumbled quietly into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling back, hand still in your back as he flipped the switch and sent the car moving.

Your heart was still racing with anxiety and adrenaline as he took you back home, the car ride silent and riddled with a tension you couldn’t pinpoint. He took your bags without a word, carrying them inside once you arrived before locking the door.

Your relationship with Gibbs had been nothing but tension when you started. The good kind. He refused to act on his feelings and you didn’t have the nerve to make the first move. So the three years together had been a balance of subtle flirting and catching one another gazing at the other.

But now he was in your house, taking his coat off and hanging it up as if he’d been here before. You watching him untie his boots and set them aside, your body starting to ache with the bruises and cuts as he made his way over to you.

He always stood so damn close to, practically pressed to you. The heat from his body felt so inviting, and you didn’t think before placing a hand on his chest, grabbing his shirt.

‘I thought I was going to lose you out there,” he spoke quiet and soft, hands going to your waist and pulling you closer, head dipping down to rest against yours.

“I had no idea what was happening, I just heard the yelling and crashes from the house, and..” he trailed off as his nose brushed yours, eyes closed as he breathed you in.

You didn’t hesitate before hugging him, arms like a vice around his neck as he clung to you, head on your shoulder. Your ribs protested at his grip but you didn’t care.

It took only a moment before you gave in to one another, lips meeting in a heated kiss as he held you snug to his body. You stumbled with him to the bedroom, clothes in a trail as he undressed you and you him.

His body was familiar and soothing as he laid over you. Lips ghosting over your cuts and bruises, hands soothing your aches and pains as he devoured you like a man starved.

When he entered you it felt like the Earth was shaking. He groaned and panted in your ear, limbs tangled as he drowned his worries and fears with you. The feel of you around him, the scent and taste of your skin.

Your body arched and moved in perfect synchronicity with his, your pain and anxiety disappearing as he pulled you back to reality, his fingers ghosting and tracing your skin as you tumbled over the edge together.

He got up before you could gather your breath, cleaning the mess between your legs and checking your injuries before laying back down, arms around you in a protective vice.

“Don’t you ever leave me, darling,” he whispered in your ear. You smiled and kissed his shoulder, legs tangled as you whispered.

“Never.”

[vaginalvr]

Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could please do a dom Spencer as unit chief who like fucks reader and like spanks her and stuff because she gets some stuff wrong in the field?

No pressure to comply but just know I love your work so much!

content warning: Dom!Spencer, spanking (over his knee), rough sex, authority kink, office sex, power imbalance (consensual), established dom/sub dynamic, punishment for mistakes in the field (roleplay style), degradation kink (light), oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex (m!giving), reader crying from pleasure, orgasm denial (light), use of “sir,” aftercare implied.

a/n: screaming with no s

word count ~ 900

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

You could feel it the moment you walked off the jet—he was pissed.

Not openly. Not in the way that would alert the rest of the team. But you could see it in his eyes.

The sharpness behind his quiet “Wheels up was two minutes late because of you.” The subtle flex of his jaw when you’d accidentally interrupted him mid-briefing. The barely restrained tension in his hands when you misread a suspect’s body language during interrogation, almost blowing your cover.

You thought maybe he’d let it go. Maybe it would fade when the paperwork cleared and the case file was closed.

But the second he followed you into his office, locked the door, and pulled the blinds closed, your stomach dropped.

"Desk,” he said sharply, tossing your folder aside. “Now.”

You moved without thinking—muscle memory at this point—and planted yourself right in front of his desk, eyes cast down.

“Do you know how many mistakes you made this week?”

“I…” You swallowed. “Two?”

Spencer gave a humorless chuckle.

“Try five. Five missteps, all avoidable, all the result of you being cocky.”

His voice was low, controlled, and dangerous in the way that made heat pool between your thighs instantly.

“I’ve let you skate too much lately,” he said, stepping behind you. “Let you get comfortable. Clearly, that was a mistake.”

You shivered as his hand wrapped firmly around the back of your neck, pushing you gently but firmly forward until your hands splayed flat across the top of his desk. Your heart was racing.

“Spence—”

“Not right now,” he interrupted coldly. “You don’t get to use my name when I’m correcting you. You’ll speak when spoken to, and you’ll listen when I remind you how to behave.”

You whimpered, thighs pressing together.

He dragged your skirt up with rough hands, exposing your lace panties—black, of course, per his preference.

“These,” he said, hooking his fingers under the waistband, “are going to come off. And you are going to count.”

The fabric peeled from your hips and fell to the floor. Cool air kissed your bare skin as you tried not to tremble.

His palm landed hard against your ass before you could prepare.

“One,” you gasped.

Another. Harder.

“Two…”

By the fifth smack, tears pricked at your eyes—not from pain, not really, but from the intensity. His discipline was never cruel. It was deliberate, measured, and built around making sure you felt every consequence.

Ten slaps in, your ass was burning and your thighs were soaked.

Spencer finally leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Dripping like a needy little thing, even after I’ve punished you. Maybe that’s the problem. You like getting in trouble.”

You nodded breathlessly.

He gripped your chin, forcing your head to turn toward him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered. “I like when you’re rough with me.”

“I know you do.”

He reached between your legs, sliding two fingers through your soaked folds.

“Such a mess,” he murmured. “I should make you beg for it.”

“Please, sir,” you said instantly, desperate. “Please, I need you.”

“I know what you need,” he growled, yanking your hips back and freeing his belt in one smooth motion. You heard the distinct sound of his zipper, and your body went hot and tense with anticipation.

When he pushed inside you, it was rough and deep, claiming every inch.

You cried out, barely able to stay upright as he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snapped. “To be bent over your superior’s desk like a dumb little fucktoy?”

“Yes, sir,” you choked out, fingers digging into the wood.

He fucked you hard, punishing thrusts that made you moan helplessly. Your body rocked with every snap of his hips, and the dirty, brutal rhythm only made the pleasure swell.

When he reached around and rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles, you nearly sobbed.

“You don’t come until I say,” he hissed.

“Please, sir, I—!”

“Hold it.”

You whimpered, trying to obey, thighs shaking.

“Look at you,” he said, watching your reflection in the darkened window. “Little thing so eager to take it. So desperate for approval.”

His fingers pressed harder, hips slamming into you, and you broke.

“I’m sorry, sir—I can’t—I can’t hold it!”

“You better beg, then.”

“Please let me come, sir, please—”

He leaned over you, lips brushing your ear.

“Now.”

You shattered, body convulsing around him as he fucked you through it, then followed a moment later with a groan, spilling deep inside you.

You both stayed like that for a moment—breathless, slick, trembling.

Then he kissed your shoulder.

“Color?”

You nodded, voice soft. “Green.”

His hands became gentler, soothing as he helped you up, fixed your skirt, and guided you to sit on his lap in the office chair.

“You know I don’t think you’re actually dumb, right?” he said softly, brushing sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I know,” you murmured. “I just… needed that.”

“I know you did.”

He kissed your temple, cradling you close.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Then I’m taking you home. You’re going to sit on my lap, watch a documentary, and let me hold you.”

You nodded, already melting into him.

And next time?

You’d be just a little sharper in the field.

But only just enough.

[tinkerleaf]

Tape 001 - OSAMU DAZAI

a/n: I'm excited to put this out! I've never explored this concept before so I hope it comes off as good as it does in my head. This will be the first in the series. w/c: 1.4k m.lists: face files, main m.list warnings: cursing, small depiction of violence, interrogation genre: angst? but not like super sad or anything

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋ�� ˚₊‧⁺─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

-Start of Recording

The room is pitch black before a blinding light flashes the respondent. He can’t see very well, but he doesn’t need to. He is placed in a metal chair that locks him in by his wrists and ankles. He struggles but quickly realizes he can’t move.

A cough is heard before the interviewer speaks, “Mr. Osamu Dazai, is that correct?”

“Who are you?” he questions, his eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness of the light. “Where am I?”

“My apologies. I should have introduced myself. My name is Dr. Arthur Cartwright of the TimeSpace Preservation Association. The reason you are here with me in this hypothetical space is because you are a close contact to █████ ████████, an anomaly of this timeline.”

Dazai’s lips parted at the mention of her name. “What makes you think I’d tell you anything? And that’s if I knew anything.”

Dr. Cartwright presses a button on his computer, and suddenly the light in Dazai’s face gradually changes color to a deep blue. The pupils of his eyes suddenly become dilated.

“Trying to set the mood or something?”

“Sir, I want you to tell me what happened to your mother.”

Without even realizing, Dazai responds. “She died when I was born.” His mouth is agape in shock, and he struggles once more against the straps around him. “What the hell is going on?!”

The doctor jots down a few details on his clipboard, muttering to himself. “It seems that the validity scanner works correctly.” He turns back to his current captive, “Forgive me, that was simply a test.” Dazai was so confused that he couldn’t even fathom a response. His breaths become forced. “This device will allow us to avoid any inaccuracies in your answers and extract the data we need directly from your brain without any invasive procedures.”

“As if this isn’t intrusive.”

“I understand your discomfort sir, but I’ll have you know that you will not remember any of this interaction once you leave. You are located in a space in between timelines that serves no purpose. In simpler terms, your life is on ‘pause' until your return.”

To Dazai, this feels like an odd dream. He feels almost hazy, as if he’d had a drink. However, his mind has lingered around the mention of her name from the beginning. “What are you gonna do to her?”

“We have no intentions of harming her. We just have some questions for you, and we will be on our way.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair not to answer a few questions of mine first?”

The doctor pauses but concedes. “I suppose. Go ahead.”

“You mentioned earlier that she was an…’anomaly’. What did you mean by that?”

“By standards of the TPA, she is filed as such because she remains in your timeline without any major damages to its structure.”

“So…”

“So she isn’t supposed to be there. Her timeline is number…” He flips through a few of his documents. “3142025. You are from 7925076. I’m sure you can see the issue here.”

“Does it really matter-”

“Of course it matters. When people are moved around, it destabilizes reality until it shatters. However, it hasn’t, and I’m trying to figure out why.”

Dazai stares at the stranger in front of him, his finger tapping against the cool metal. He tries to look around, but there’s nothing to look at. His ability is useless in this situation. “Then let’s get this over with.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll start simple. Who is █████ ████████?”

“She’s a member of the Armed Detective Agency.”

Scribbling is heard from the other side of the desk, “Who is she to you?”

“She’s my best friend.” His expression is blank, letting the machine mentally yank his thoughts out. “She’s also my partner at the agency.”

“How did you meet her?”

“When I was in the Port Mafia, my boss introduced me to her. He was acquainted with her father.”

The doctor pauses. “Did you ever come across her father?”

Dazai shrugs. “Here and there. Kanan wasn’t exactly important to me or my job, so we never had much interaction outside of work.”

“What was his role?”

“He was one of the five executives.”

“From my understanding, he passed away, correct?” Dazai nods.

“How?”

“He was assassinated by enemies of the of the mafia.”

His eyes narrow. “Interesting…I’ll go back to █████ ████████. What was her role in the mafia?”

“She either assisted with interrogations or trained for one of the command units, typically with Chuuya.” A look of annoyance flashes across his face.

“Chuuya Nakahara?” Dazai nods. “Why him?”

“Their abilities had similar components. While Chuuya could manipulate gravity, she was able to move things telekinetically. It made sense to put them together at the time.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Pissed.” Doctor Cartwright wonders if he has stopped breathing. He is completely still.

“Do you need a break?”

“No.” His gaze hasn’t moved from the surface of the desk since the interview began.

“Just let me know if you do.” He clears his throat. “Why would that bother you the way it did?”

He bites his lip, but it doesn't stop him from answering the question. “I didn’t want to have to share my only friend-dammit!” He was trying to fight the device.

The doctor flips through his notes. “Okay, we’re getting off topic.” He writes some things down. “Tell me more about her ability. You mentioned telekinetics.”

“Right. She’s great at picking locks with it. I’ve seen her crush someone’s windpipe when we were in a bind once, but she doesn’t really use it for that anymore…” He trails off.

“What does she usually use it for?”

“Typically, scanning for information. She’d explained it before; it’s like moving someone’s brain around to get information. Sound familiar?” His sarcastic tone doesn't faze the doctor.

“Surprisingly, yes.” More scribbles.

“It’s one of the main reasons she became an asset to the mafia, aside from her more combatative attributes.”

“Why did she leave the Port Mafia?”

“Kanan’s death really shook her up, but I couldn’t blame her for it. I had a feeling she wouldn’t last much longer afterwards.” He took a deep breath. “When it was confirmed by the boss that she was erased from the organization, I was afraid she’d hurt herself, so I kept an eye on her for a while.”

“Like…stalking her?”

The ghost of a smile formed on his face. “Not exactly. It didn’t take me long to track her down, but when I did, I was going to let her go.”

“…Right. Was that when she obtained a job at the Armed Detective Agency?”

He nodded. “About a year or so later. I joined after her a year later.”

“Why did it take you so long?”

“My reputation as the Port Mafia’s youngest executive wasn’t exactly something I could just waltz into the agency with. I went into hiding for a little while.”

“While still watching █████?”

He nods. “Not in a weird way, though.”

“I’m sure. When was the last time you saw her?”

“At work. Her desk is next to mine.”

“I guess it makes sense for your new boss to put you two together since you share a past. What was her reaction to seeing you again? After all that time, I mean.”

“She was startled at first, but she came around.”

“Came around..?”

“She gave me a really big hug, and I felt everything from the past few years just drip off of me. The Presdient called her into the office with Kunikida, and when I saw her I-I think- ” A stray tear falls down his face. “-I just felt so…fuck!”

“Let’s take a second.” Cartwright turns the light off and Dazai’s pupils go back to normal.

Dazai closes his eyes as he heaves, his stress levels exponentially high. “Is this enough for you? Is this what you wanted?”

“Hey, we’re almost done-”

“Almost? I’m getting sick of being probed.” He pushes against the restraints.

“Dammit…” Cartwright quickly powers everything back on. He stands up, leaning both hands on the table. “The quicker we get through this, the quicker you can forget this ever happened. Do you know who exactly killed Kanan ████████?”

“I already told you it-”

“That’s not true, though. Who told you it was an enemy attacker?”

“She did?”

“Then, who told her that?”

“How the fuck would I know that!?” Dazai was growing more frustrated than he already was. “Why does that even matter if this is about her?”

Dr. Cartwright slumps back down, realizing that Dazai wasn't going to give him the answers he needed. He reaches into his pocket for a pen. He points the end of it towards his face, “Thank you for your contributions, Mr. Dazai. You’re free to go. You’ll wake up exactly where you were extracted from. It’ll be as if nothing ever happened.”

With a flash, Osamu Dazai disappeared from the room.

-End of Recording

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[billskeis]

PLEASE DO ANOTHER POLICE OFFICER! BILL SMUT PLSLSLPLSSLPLSPSLPSLSLPSLPSLPLPSLPLS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill p2

now what the fuck did you get yourself into? because there you sat in the interrogation chair, facing the one and last person you wanted to see. sat straight and tall, tapping one of his fingers on the wooden desk of his office, staring at you like some animal. licking your dry lips, you are met face to face with the officer who fucked you silly.

bill kaulitz was his name, and on your last endeavour, he had caught you.. which ended with the both of you encountering some, quite indecent acts that following night. now, he had warned you about committing crimes again, and what would happen if you did.

but maybe you wanted this, maybe you wanted him to fuck you silly, brain so numb all you can think of is how his dick drills into your sore pussy. you miss that feeling, the feeling of fullness. the feeling of his cock all the way in your stomach as he brings a hand to choke your neck.

“dollface, did you hear anything i said?” a voice breaks your consciousness as you jolt within your seat. clearing your throat, you pretend you were paying attention to whatever the fuck he was just saying earlier. “of course i was!”

he hums in disapproval. uh oh. getting up from his seat, he leans over his desk to hover over you who’s sitting down, hands restrained together by the uncomfortable clasp of metal around your wrists. using his thumb and his index finger, he holds your chin making you look directly at him. eyelids lowered, he has this primal gaze that almost has your knees buckling.

“i don’t think you understand the current situation you’re in, dollface..” you swallow hard, damn. did he have to say it in such a dark tone? moving away from the desk, he circles around it’s peripheral, finding his way behind you. he presses his crotch against your backside, clearly hard. dumb little you would’ve thought it was a gun again.

papers and files were pushed off the table, and there you were, bent over officer kaulitz’s desk as he fucks into you for being such a bad girl. clawing at the wood, you attempt to stabilize yourself on the furniture as it shakes and lean with every thrust. his cock throbs inside of you with every moan and whimper that slips out of your mouth.

“b-bill..” “that’s sir, to you,” you bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan as he pumps himself within you, heavy balls smacking against your ass as he relentlessly moves his hips. “s—ah—s-sir.. n’more..” a low chuckle heard from behind you as a harsh smack lands on your behind, a yelp escaping your lips.

“u-ugh.. been such a bad girl.. i literally fucked you the other day, was that not enough for ya?” tears fill your eyes. your cunt hurts from the way he pounds into you, and it doesn’t help that you guys just had sex not too long ago. god wasn’t nice enough to let you successfully escape from your heist, a limp to your walk. now you’d need a wheelchair.

you sob at how thick he fills your pussy, angling his hips to continuously abuse your g spot as the creak of a table and sticky wet squelching echoes through his office. “y-you don’t understand.. i—mmh! needed the m-money.. hahh..” “yeah? then lemme help you out.”

frowning, you couldn’t ask him to do that. what the hell was his problem? a police officer helping a felony? it sounded almost insane but the way he latches his fingers to circle on your clit as he pistons his hips fucking into yours made him sound a smidge more genuine.

“f-fuck!! ‘m gonna cum soon..” “so is that a yes?” you look back at bill, whose hips still for a moment as he awaits your answer. averting your gaze, you face flushes as he can only look down at you with a smirk, “i-i’ll think about it..”

another slap lands on your ass, quivering you gasp in disbelief at the sudden movement of bill. he only looks at you, pursing his lips together as he begins moving again, your cunt walls shaping to fit him better inside of you, “guess yer gunna need a lil’ more convincing, hm?”

a heat firing in your belly as he pounds into you. your pussy sounds filthy, wet and squishy as bill plunges his cock into you with no intentions to stop. you clench around him, close, and without your words bill can see as how fast your orgasm is to come, even making an effort to fuck your hips back onto his.

scoffing, bill can only pull himself out of you, juices leaking out and an empty, unsatisfying feeling flurries within your cunt. “w-wha.. why’d you stop?” “ohoh, look at you all desperate to come now, little slut wants this dick but doesn’t even want my help.” your chest feels heavy, cunt even heavier with need.

“y’know i can’t ask you for that..” “you’re not asking doll.. i’m offering.” he turns your body around to face his and cups a hand around your cheek, stroking away the sweat and tears with his thumb as he places a kiss to your forehead, “s’what is it gunna be? gunna let me help ya? if not, you can leave right now.”

you whine, reaching a hand out to his lower groin, bill quickly swatting your hand away. “‘m serious, y/n.” as you look him up and down, you can’t help but think. it is a pretty good offer, what is there to lose? “o-okay.. i’ll let you help me.”

a smile forms on bill’s lips as he gropes one of your breasts in his hand, thumbing over sensitive bud, “atta girl… whaddya say?” both hands now grasping each of your tips, fondling with the flesh, “t-thank you..” he shakes his head at you, sighing, letting out a little gasp in all of your forgetfulness, “thank you, sir..”

“that’s more like it,” as he pushes himself back into your needy cunt, fucking nice and deep into your cervix.

i absolutely fucking hate this im so sorry T_T

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

BAU Team X Teen Reader

Request: Where the reader has a twin sister but she is a complete opposite of them? Like, she might be bratty and spoiled and reader is just glad for what they have! And the twin would be the unsub but at first they would take reader since they are twins and it's not really easy to identify them from eachother other than their personality and maybe their gender?

S/N - Y/N twin sister

Y/N - They/Them

Third person pov...

"Hey Y/N, I'm having your chocolate for my lunch" Yelled S/N in her usual bratty voice, the H/C girl grabbed the chocolate bar from her Twins lunchbox.

From the table in the Kitchen her identical twin Y/N rolls their eyes at her, there's no point in saying no otherwise she'll cause drama.

"Sure S/N" they say without saying thank you S/N shoves past her sibling jsut as Y/N got down from the table and grabbed their bowl.

In slow motion the bowl crashes to the tiled floor smashing everywhere. Y/n quickly leaps onto a chair away from the porcelain. "Shit, Dad will be pissed" they swear looking around for something to pick up the pieces.

As they look around the kitchen then saw the dust pan and brush. "Bingo" they still had half an hour before having to leave for school, S/N left earlier to be able to go to the mall with friends before school.

The teen climbs onto the table and stand up avoiding hitting their head on the light and walks across the table and onto the counter, they then shuffle along until reaching the dust pan and brush.

The bowl pieces had covered most of the floor leading up to the counter.

"Thanks alot S/N" mutters the H/C teen, grabbing what they needed before jumping down and begins to sweep up the shards of the bowl.

Ever since they were little Y/N and S/N have been opposites, S/N bratty and selfish always wanting things for herself while Y/N kind and grateful for what they have.

But of course they get mixed up as they are still Identical in everything apart from styles like their personalities complete opposites.

As Y/N cleans up the mess the doorbell goes, confused Y/N puts the pieces that was once a bowl in the bin before walking to the door. They look through the peep hole and see a male and female.

"Who are they?" The mutter to themselves before unlocking the door and opening it. As they do the woman smiles at the teen. "Hey Honey, is this where S/N L/N lives?" She askes the H/C teen.

"Yes why?" they say the woman eyes the man next to her. Y/N is beyond confused. "I'm sorry who are you people?" Questions the teen.

The man then answers "I'm SSA Derek Morgan and this is SSA Elle Greenaway, we are here to ask you a few question can you come down to the station?" Askes Derek.

Y/Ns eyes widened. 'FBI' they thought. "Oh sure let me grab my bag" they say before running back to the kitchen to grab their school bag and phone.

As they walk towards the Agents they get strange looks. Soon the teen was in the back of a black SUV with the two agents in front.

Minutes later the teen was being taken to an interrogation room and hand cuffed to the table infront of them. As the officer leaves Y/N is alone. "Oh shit" The mutter realising what's happening.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit" they panic, it's finally coming together other the past couple if weeks more and more students at their school go missing and turn up dead two days later.

For some reason lots of them are people Y/N talks to, they have noticed how I happens every time S/N leaves early for school but Y/N thought she was meeting friends.

"Oh no" they mutter suddenly the door in open and two men walk in with a file. One was alot older than the other and the other was Agent Morgan from before.

Agent Morgan sits in the chair while the older man stands both watching Y/N. Who fidgets with their hands. "Hello

S/N, do you know why we brought you in?" Questions Agent Morgan.

Y/N flinches at the name. But doesn't look up from their hands. "No sir" they say, they hear the man sigh before throwing a file filled with pictures on the metal table and begins sorting through them.

This makes Y/N look up, the teen looks at the older man before at the pictures, as they do their blood runs cold, bile rises in their throat.

The pictures were of the people Y/N talked to in school, throughout the weeks. Each one had been mutilated beyond recognition apart from their uniform each one still had their school logo on their jackets.

Horror files Y/N E/C eyes, their mouth opens in shock before they lean right holding their mouth closed, before they know it the older man is yelling for a bucket and Y/N is emptying their breakfast into it.

From the two way window the rest of the team watch as the teen throes up into the bucket Gideon managed to put under the teen.

JJ looks on in sympathy as the teen Continues to throw up. She then turns to Hotch who had a grim expression on his face. "Their not the unsub, know one would be able to stomach that only the unsub would" she says making the man nod.

"Your right JJ, have Gideon question them and take away the pictures they've had enough" he says to Morgan to had come out and grabbed the bin for the teen.

Once Y/N had stopped throwing up they felt a hand rub up and down their back comforting, as they lift their head they see the man from earlier.

"Hello there, feeling better?" He asks making the teen nod once they were leant back he hands them some tissue to wipe their mouth.

Once they did that he sat infront of the teen thankfully the pictures had been put away. "Thank you" mutters the teen, the man smiles.

"I'm Jason Gideon, I'm here with the Behavioural Analyst unit" he introduces himself to the teen. "Y/N" they introduce themselves.

"Y/N, Can you tell me anything suspicious that has happened there past few weeks, is someone you know being secretive, leaving at odd times" he questions, the teen nods expression frozen.

"Do you know the name of this person?" He asks the frightened teen.

Y/N nods hands shaking they answer. "My Twin sister, S/N has been leaving an hour early every day for the last couple of weeks before me, she has been alot more selfish and jealous, the victims they spoke to me at school" Explains the teen.

Gideon smiles " thank you do you know where your sister on now currently?" He asks, the teen shakes their head. "No sir sorry, but she might be at school class has started by now" they say as the Man stands up and leaves the room.

On the other side Gideon and talking to the team. "It's the twin" he says before leaving the room and calling the officers while Hotch tells the team the plan.

In the room Y/N waits tapping a beat to the legs before the doors opens, this a blonde woman was there. Y/N has to ask her. "Why did they ask for my twin knowing i wasn't her?" They ask her.

The blonde woman sighs before sitting in thr chair opposite the teen. "Because they had to be sure it wasn't you" she explains.

Y/N scoffs slightly before shaking their hand. "Can these come off now?" They ask thr woman's eye widened before she pulls out a key ans unlocks the cuffs. "Thank you"

Hours later S/N was arrested for the murder of 7 teens, when askes why her reasoning was. "Because they talked to my useless Twin and not me!"

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot so sorry for the wait I've been busy.

Request are open!

Word count: 1400

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 2 -Kidnapped Again-

Gifs by dinjarring - perotovar - djo

---------------------------- All episodes here ------------------------

The days continued to pass in the same monotonous way, but finally something new had happened. You were now allowed to walk inside the building. To being a good girl, Javi said.

So what it really meant was that you didn't try to escape anymore.

Fucking asshole.

The building was like an old military guesthouse, 2 flat with high and wide hallways, probably having more than 20 rooms. Javi and the others staying in these rooms, but spending their most time in the common area. In this area there was a TV, radio, 3 seater couch, and lots of ashtrays. Cigarette smoke was everywhere, even from a distance you could smell it.

On instinct you thought more than once how you could escape from the building, but it was almost impossible. The soldiers were everywhere.

You were tired of even thinking about it, so just wanted to let it go for now.

----

One morning when you left the room and went downstairs, Chris and Daniel were discussing something, there were a lot of photos and folders in front of them. It was like the case files the cops were going through.

Your eyes looked for Javi and as you looked around, noticed that he was talking on the phone -that you tried to call your father couple times but failed- a little further away, he noticed you immediately, but he lift the phone receiver up making gesture like saying “hey”.

You responded with a half smile and then he turned around, oh you wished he hadn't, he looked much more attractive from behind.

The tight jeans he was wearing showed off his great ass. Suddenly you realized that you flushed and you turned around afraid to caught by him. This kinda thoughts were getting into your head a lot lately and you cursed yourself for not being able to control it.

You looked at the photo Daniel holding.

"This is my house," you said quickly.

Daniel and Chris looked at each other.

"Yes, senorita," Daniel said, "well we..."

"It's okay, I know you followed me, didn’t mean to interrupt you guys," you said, but again someone's face looked very familiar in the photos.

"It's Jorge," you said surprisingly, and this time your voice rang like a silver bell all of the hallway.

Daniel and Chris looked at you curiously.

"Do you know him?"

You slowly nodded your head yes, but you were also worried about Jorge, as far as you knew he was a good guy.

"Okay, keep me posted.” Javi said before he hung up the phone and hurried coming close to you.

"Jorge is a good guy why do you have his photo?" you asked almost mumbling.

"Y/N, how do you know him?" Javi crossed his arms and sat on the arm of the couch where Daniel was sitting on.

You looked up at him, his brown eyes looking at you piercingly, you felt a little like you were being interrogated by this former agent.

"He came to our house a few times, he was nice to me, but, my dad used to talk to him in private. I have no idea what they were talking about but you're not going to do anything to him are you?"

When Javi saw you tense up, he sit beside you. There was a strange excitement in his eyes, but his piercing gaze was back and torturing you again.

"Of course nothing will happen, he's important for us like Cali's KGB," the honesty in his voice was palpable. "He's actually contacted us, but we're not sure if we can trust him yet or not."

"You can, I don't think he would lie, but of course I can't be sure, no one can be trusted these days anymore."

The sarcasm in your voice made Javi roll his eyes, he stood up but eyes locked on you again thinking about something.

"We were supposed to meet him tomorrow," Chris said, "after Gilberto, sir, this might be our only chance to catch his brother."

"Okay, let's do it," Javi said, can't stop smiling at your stubborn attitude though.

Chris and Daniel walked outside in a hurry.

“By the way,” Javi put his hands on waist.

"I'm going to see your dad tomorrow," he finally said.

You were excited for a moment, but then feeling down again, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see him.

"If I asked you to take me with you, you wouldn't, would you?" you asked desperately.

Javi shook his head as no.

"But soon you’re gonna see him again, I promise."

"I hope you keep your promise, Javi," you said without looking at him.

"I believe that we can get along with him," he said sincerely.

As he was about to leave, he plucked a red rose from the ivy that grew from outside through the window.

"Just hang in there little bird, you’ll be free soon" gives you the rose, he winking at you and walked out with that wonderful smile of his.

“’lll try,” smelling the rose he gave you.

It was weird that you can't get mad at him anymore.

---

As soon as Javi left the minister's office, he went downstairs and lit a cigarette. He had just been rewarded for the successful capture of Gilberto Rodriguez. As he enjoyed his cigarette, happy with his victory, he thought of you. He was happy that he was going to keep his promise, but there was something he has to do first.

As he walked into the DEA building, everyone who saw him was congratulating and cheering.

Agent Javier Peña is back.

After getting his gun and badge, he stayed there for a while to celebrate with Chris and Daniel over a drink.

Then when everyone there insisted on going to the bar, he couldn't resist them. They were all quite happy, celebrating and laughing, but also aware that they were just getting started. Javi was close to getting drunk when he saw a familiar face. He was wellknown at this bar so he knew almost all the waitresses.

"Javi," one of the girls said, put her tray on the table and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Why don't we celebrate this together, like the old days," she smirked. "You haven't forgotten the wonderful moments we had, have you?"

When she reached up to kiss him, Javi stopped her and gently lifted her arms around his neck and pushed her away.

"Not tonight, sweetheart," he winked.

"Wow, normally you wouldn't say no to that, but whatever," she said and picked up the tray and move behind the bar, looking quite upset. All Javi could think about right now was you, and maybe this was the first time he'd ever missed an opportunity for sex.

------

By the time you were getting ready for bed, you wondered what was taking Javi so long, why he wouldn’t come, however you were tired of thinking and wanted to go to sleep.

When you pulled the cover of bed, you realized that a piece of paper had been pushed under the door. It was a letter.

With so many questions running through your head, your first thought was to open the door and look into the hallway. But no one was there.

You opened the letter in a hurry and curiously.

"You will see your father tonight, be ready."

Your heart raced, hands shaking. "What in the world,” you said to yourself.

Who could have sent it? Your first thought was Javi, but why would he write a letter?

No, it was probably someone else. But who. What if it was a trap? The possibilities were many, but time was short.

Who could you tell about this?

Finally you open the door slowly, looked down the corridor, the soldiers were still walking around. Was it one of them? You thought of calling Javi, but the soldiers were downstairs, watching over the phone specially because you had tried to call your father several times before.

You went back to the room and closed the door slowly, you body starting to shake. Was your father specially sending troops with the support of the army? Could it be?

"What should I do, what should I do,"  said to yourself as wondered if there was a traitor among the soldiers. Well, he or she wasn't a traitor to you, of course, but still, you couldn't trust anyone.

You get super impatient, opened the door of the room quietly again and looking around. It didn't feel right to wait quietly, so you wanted to try your best.

The soldiers were coming and going, two by two, counting how long it takes, and you had about 30 seconds to get yourself out somehow. Without thinking too much, you tiptoed down the corridor once the soldiers were on the other side. As soon as you heard the footsteps you hid behind the couch, and by the time they turned around for another round you had made it out. This was different from the last time you tried to escape. This time you didn't know what you were running from or where.

This was so stupid of you but you couldn't just sit and wait.

The soldiers outside were talking about something among themselves. This was good for you, first wanted to go to Don Berna who you believed was Javi's ally, can help you. Yes, he is the one who helped him to kidnap you too, but you had no choice, you trusted Javi, you trusted him to take you to your father one way or another.

It was just something doesn't right with that note.

You weren't sure where Don Berna was staying or even if he was here now, but you had to try. When you move forward you accidentally stepped on a piece of broken glass, fuck, then someone grabbed you from behind.

“What do we have here?”

A soldier grabbed your arm roughly, cocky smile on his face.

"I wasn't running away, really," you tried to convince him. "If you take me to Don Berna, I want to tell him--"

“Move,” he jerking your arm roughly heading to the dark green tent out front.

As soon as you entered the tent, you were shocked to see the commander pointing a gun at Don Berna's face. All the soldiers were also pointing their guns at the other men. You were confused, but this made you panicked even more.

"Ah, senorita, you couldn't wait, could you?" the commander laughed looking at you, without moving his hand.

"Fuckin motherfucker, I paid you generously, what the fuck is this? We had an agreement for fucks sake."

"I'm sorry Mr. Berna, but Miguel Rodriguez offered 5 times what you paid for this girl. So what could i do? we're mercenaries, right guys?"

All the soldiers nodded smirking.

"Yes, sir."

"And I have no faith in that fucking agent Peña to do what he promised," he added.

"Miguel Rodriguez? But note you sent to my room were saying im gonna see my father," you yelled at him.

"If only you had waited in your room like you were told, senorita, you wouldn't have seen this part and you would keep thinking you were going to see your father, but what the hell, you'll suffer the consequences. What the fuck are you waiting for? Get her on the fuckin helicopter now!" he ordered his soldiers.

"No, let go," you screamed with all your might, but you were dragged into the helicopter anyway.

It was the second time this happening, you were kidnapping again, but this time you were more afraid of where you were going. You wished you could lost your consciousness again.

As tears falling down your cheeks, thinking about Javi, you would rather he kidnaps you instead.

-----

“FUCK!!!”

When Javi returned to the military base, he was so angry when he find out. He clenching his fists and banging them against the wall wanted to smash everything close.

He had never felt so angry and helpless. 

"We'll find her," Chris said, trying to calm him down.

Daniel added.

"So yes, you're officially an agent now, we can use all our powers to find her. Right?"

"Sure, lemme call the headquarters," Chris run towards to phone.

"We'll back you up," Don Berna said. "I'll do anything to end Cali. Motherfuckers. Miguel made a fool out of me, the fucking cartel king."

He spitting with anger while talking.

Javi walked inside without saying anything, all he could think about as he lit his cigarette was you, he had promised that you wouldn't get hurt, but how was he going to keep that promise now?

As the thoughts raced through his head looked at the red roses and promised to himself.

"I will find you and bring you back little bird, no matter what.”

-------

It was around 3 a.m. when the helicopter approached the helicopter landing area of a large mansion.

Armed men were everywhere, all dressed in civilian clothes, unlike the soldiers, but they all had guns just like them.

As soon as the helicopter landed, the commander grabbed you by the arm and pulled you. He helped you step down and kept pulling you towards a tall man in a suit waiting in the courtyard of the mansion.

"Here, sir, I brought her."

He pushed you forward towards the man. Fucking bastard.

The man in the suit clapped his hands happily.

"Great, now pay the commander and his unit and send them on their way,”

He made hand gesture to his men. “And you,” he looked at you.

“You come with me honey," he said calmly but commanding.  

Unlike the commander, the man didn't grab your arm, he offered his hand for you to take.

"My hand waiting, honey," he said in a threatening tone.

You had to take this stranger's hand even if this disgusts you, but of course you had a guess. This must be the man they called Miguel.

He began to introduce himself as he escorted you inside.

"I'm Miguel, and this is my personal living space, it's a bit of an insult to call it home, you understand right," he laughed to himself.

He was promoting the house like a real estate agent which was super weird.

"And you, sweet Y/N, welcome. You know, your father and I are kind of close friends."

"Then take me to my father." your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

Miguel stopped and looked at you and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Because this man was looking calm and very threatening at the same time.

"Sweet Y/N, you're going to have to stay here for a while, until we work things out with your father, do you understand? hm?"

"Besides," he continued as he opened a door with golden ornaments on it," whatever you wanti your needs, will be done here, don't worry."

"I've heard that before," you muttered.

He laughed at your reaction.

"One more thing," said Miguel raising his indexfinger just like trying to warn you.

Also with one hand he brushes your hair which was in mess because of the helicopter ride.

Man, this motherfucker likes to touch.

"If you try to betray me, intent to leave or sneak out and somehow get to your friends from DEA, then you no longer will be my friend's daughter, but instead, you will be the most worthless person in the world to me, okay?"

He put his hands on your shoulder now which disgusts you badly. Looks like he wants to be sure about you understand him clearly. You gulped and nodded.

"Great! Good girl," he clapped his hands again.

"Good night, sweetie."

When the door closed your body collapsed on the floor, feeling exhausted, this night consumed you badly.

"Jesus! What a nightmare!"

----------------------------- All episodes here ------------------------

[bridgyrose]

Penny rocked back and forth in her chair as she stared at the plate of cookies in front of her, hesitant to pick one up. Her night had been strange enough between the robbery, nearly getting killed, being saved by a huntress, and now she sat across the table from the headmaster of Beacon, Ozpin, as he looked over her file. Taking a cookie felt almost too normal to consider. 

Ozpin slowly placed the papers on the table and picked up his scroll to watch the footage from the robbery. “I dont think I have ever seen weapons like yours before. Who taught you how to use these?” 

“My uh… Uncle Qrow did,” Penny said quietly. Then, she motioned to the gloves that sat next to her. “He also helped me rig everything up so I could use my gloves to control everything with motions. And if I hold a pair of swords, I can make the others mimic the same motions.” 

“Seems a bit different for a girl like yourself, dont you think?” He motioned towards the cookies. “You are allowed to take them. I find sweets tend to help people calm down a bit.” 

Penny slowly took a cookie and bit into it. It was softer than she had expected. “It is, but… I wanted to do something different from others. Something that could set me apart from others in school.” 

“I see. And the dust robbery, that was all coincidence, right?” 

“It was, sir.” 

“Seeing as you were able to hold your own, I think it would be appropriate to extend an invitation to attend Beacon this year.” 

Penny paused for a moment as she swore she misheard Ozpin. It didnt come at a complete surprise, the little she remembered from her previous life let her know she was still on track for what she wanted, but she didnt expect for things to be this… easy. And yet, no matter how much she was jumping for joy on the inside that this would bring her one step closer to finding Ruby, accepting the offer felt like a larger burden than it should’ve been. 

Finally, the words left her lips as she spoke. “I-I… I would love to. But I would need my dad’s permission.” 

“Of course,” Ozpin said as he motioned for Penny to leave. “I’ll be talking to him about this offer to make sure that I do have his permission first. You’re free to go.” 

“Yes sir,” Penny said as she left the interrogation room. She slowly made her way back out to where Taiyang and Yang were waiting for her and gave them a weak smile as Taiyang pulled her into a hug. “I am fine.” 

“That doesnt stop me from worrying about you,” Taiyang said as he hugged Penny tightly. “You could’ve been hurt with that robbery. If I had lost you-” 

“But you did not, dad, and I am fine.” 

“I know, but the what ifs are still there no matter what happens. Even if you know you’ll be safe, I need you to be careful. Can you at least promise that for me?” 

“I will.” 

“Taiyang, a word please,” Ozpin called out. 

Taiyang nodded and let Penny go. “I’ll go talk to Oz and see what he wants.” 

Penny gave him a smile and sat down as she nervously waited to hear what her dad was going to say after hearing the offer. A dream come true so close to crashing down around her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tapped foot against the floor. 

“I’m sure things werent that bad,” Yang tried to reassure her as she put a hand on her shoulder. “No one got hurt, right?”

“Yes, but Dad is right, I could have gotten hurt or worse. And now Ozpin wants me to come to Beacon.” 

“Really?! I thought you’d be excited about that!” 

“I am but I am also worried.” Penny stopped tapping her foot against the ground and watched Ozpin and Taiyang talk in an office, trying to read their lips. “What if dad says no or tries to keep me from going to Beacon at all? Then I will have to find another school to go to and it will not be with you.” 

Yang nodded and gently squeezed Penny’s shoulder. “Even if he doesnt let you now, you can apply in two years. At that point you’ll be an adult and he cant stop you.” 

“Yes but-” 

“No buts. I promise, everything will work out.” 

Penny gave Yang a small smile, her heart starting to pound harder in her chest as she watched Taiyang walk back over to her. It almost felt like time had started to stand still as she waited for him to say something. 

“I’ll let you go to Beacon under one condition,” Taiyang said. 

“A-anything!” Penny yelled out as she stood up. She cleared her throat and tried to compose herself. “Anything you ask dad.” 

“Try to stay out of trouble.” 

Penny quickly pulled Taiyang into a tight hug. “Yes dad.”

[john-macnamara]

It took us a little while to find the file for this, but we wanted to successfully wrap up PEIP's infamous portal incident. As you know, the Paranormal, Extraterrestrial, and Interdimensional Phenomena division of the United States' Military interrogated one Johnathan S. MacNamara after the incident. He was twenty-four at the time. We thought it would be beneficial to share this portion of the story. Give all you loyal followers the full picture.

cws: implied torture, degradation, drugging, implied sexual assault

Interrogation Records: Major Johnathan S. MacNamara; Feburary 15, 2006.

Interviewer: Lt. Gen Joseph N. Brown (JB)

Interviewee: Maj. Johnathan S. MacNamara (JM)

Purpose: Prove connection to ex-Colonel Wilbur R. Cross, now under alias Uncle Wiley

At 2:38 AM, MacNamara was forcibly removed from his bed and taken to interrogation room C. He was confined with handcuffs in case of an escape attempt, and injected with 0.7 ml of flunitrazepam combined with 5 ml saline solution. As soon as the injection was completed, the interrogation began.

[Begin Transcript 00:00:05]

JB: What is your relation to Wilbur Cross?

JM: I don't see how this has any relevance to our current problem. Nor how you have any right to request that information. Sir.

JB: You've still got a mouth on you, huh? Don't know what I expected. You're that street whore we hired, are you not? Of course your mouth would be the most important part.

JM: I'm not sassing you, sir. I'm simply stating my misunderstanding of the situation. If I was woken up in the middle of the night for this, I'd appreciate knowing why I happen to be important enough to question.

JB: You don't need to know that. Simply answer me. What is your relation to Colonel Wilbur R. Cross?

JM: He is- was my friend. Is that all you wanted from me? Can I go now?

JB: Oh, a friend you say? Well you weren't his only friend, and yet you were the only one unharmed yesterday. Why is that?

JM: I don't know, sir.

JB: I'm sure you know something. You went to him first. You could have very well had something to do with the attack.

JM: I would never. I am loyal to this organization above all else. I have been nothing but loyal to you. I swear on my life.

JB: Swearing on a traitor's life doesn't mean much.

JM: I'm not a traitor, you fucking pig! ...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry sir. I'm so sorry.

JB: Board him. He should know how to address his superiors with respect.

JM: Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm sorry...

[Indistinct]

[00:11:56]

JB: Do we have an understanding, Major?

JM: ...yes, sir.

JB: Will you refer to your superiors by anything other than "sir" or "ma'am"?

JM: No, sir.

JB: Good. Now, would you like to truthfully answer my previous question about your relationship to Wilbur Cross?

JM: My apologies, sir, but I thought I already did? We were friends, and then he swore fealty to whatever resides beyond that portal. Now we're not.

JB: I was looking for a concise answer, Major.

JM: Sorry, sir.

JB: Are you telling the truth about your relationship? There was nothing romantic there, no hidden feelings that may have lead to assisting him after he left?

JM: Of course not, sir.

JB: I don't believe you. Tell me the truth, or we'll put you under the water again.

JM: I'm not lying, we had nothing between us except for a friendship and a mentorship. I promise, sir. If we had anything else together, I'd have told you as soon as it occurred.

JB: Alright boys, you know what to do.

JM: No. Please-

[Indistinct]

[00:18:31]

JB: Would you like to tell us anything yet?

JM: I...

JB: Yes? Spit it out.

JM: I was in love with him...

JB: There we go! Look at you, finally admitting something. At least you have some sense.

JM: I swear to you, sir, that just because I was in love with him doesn't mean I would have betrayed PEIP for him.

JB: Well, I don't know if I can trust that. But I'm nice, so here's what I'm going to do. We're going to dose you with something that'll make you more... malleable. You'll be more likely to tell the truth and to cooperate. Don't try to resist, it'll be easier if you let it take effect.

JM: I- yes sir.

[JM dosed with 150 ml sodium thiopental]

JB: How ya feeling, soldier?

JM: 'ired...

JB: Good. Where are you?

JM: Uhhhh... I dunno? Sorry...

JB: Wow, you just fall right under this shit, huh? I bet I could do anything I wanted to you, and you wouldn't even know. Maybe you'd even like it, you slut.

JM: Mhm...

JB: But that's not what we're here for. Tell me the true nature of the relationship between yourself and Colonel Cross.

JM: Uh- righ', Wil. Yes. We'r frens. I love him, he doesn love me. Simmle.

JB: We already got that part. What was your relationship to him after he went through the portal?

JM: Oh, sorr'... I aven seen 'im ince the portal.

JB: So you weren't lying to me, then?

JM: No sir.

JB: Were you in cahoots with any entity from beyond that portal since he entered?

JM: Nosir.

JB: Well, considering I don't think you can lie in this state, I'm going to assume you're telling me the truth. Our apologies for the misunderstanding.

JM: Issok.

JB: There must be something we can do to make this up to you. What would you like?

JM: ...sleep?

JB: Well that sounds very nice. Unfortunately, we can't let you go to sleep until the drug wears off, you see. But I do have an idea of what we can do while we wait. Does that sound nice?

JM: Mhm, sure...

JB: Now, if I asked you to do anything right now, you'd do it. Isn't that right?

JM: Yessir...

JB: Wonderful. You all may leave, I have something to do here. Now, stay still, pretty boy, and open up your mouth.

JM: [Indiscernible slurring. Reminiscent of protests]

[End Transcript 00:32:17]

[relevant-url-incoming]

Ironically, this piece was meant to be Ven and Elara bonding over sibling memories. which is what Ven thought would happen, too. Instead, Elara said "hello you have been flirting with me since Taris and I know for a FACT you are sleeping with Aric Jorgan so what is the truth?" and that's it that's the fic. not quite polyamory negotiations but this is how we get there.

It had not been unusual for Captain Valath to slip into medical and talk to Elara as she worked since the moment Elara joined Havoc squad. She seemed to do that – not just with Elara and Jorgan, but Forex and now Vik, too. As though she wanted to know everything about them.

“So tell me about your brother,” Captain Valath prompted. “I don’t remember if you said, older or younger?”

Elara wanted to answer – she’d missed him, missed feeling like a member of a family, and from the way Captain Valath looked at her she suspected the captain knew that. But she refused to let her resolve break. She would not jeopardise her already precarious career by giving in to the captain’s – well, Elara didn’t know if they were meant to be seductions. But even if the captain didn’t mean them that way, Elara knew her own mind, and her own mind could not be allowed to wander in this instance.

“Is this an interrogation, sir? I know you told Captain Kalor that you would share with him but I hadn’t expected –“

“Hell, no,” Captain Valath said immediately, eyes wide and horrified. “I will leave that up to him as laid out in the official duties of both our posts, thank you. He just doesn’t get to press you for more.”

“Of course,” Elara said. “I – thank you. I hadn’t meant…”

To offend. But she had. Not because Captain Valath necessarily deserved it, yet, but simply because Elara didn’t know how else to create distance. Quoting rules wouldn’t work. Captain Valath was the first commanding officer Elara had ever had who seemed to actually like her dedication to regulations. And Elara unfortunately had Tanno Vik’s crass remarks about the two of them to prove it.

“The truth is, sir –“ Elara spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She grimaced, looking away from the captain as she tried to parse her own thoughts. “I wanted – I need to –“

“Hey,” Captain Valath said gently. “You never had a problem speaking your mind in front of an officer before.”

“You are not Colonel Gaff,” Elara said, unable to keep the derision out of her tone as she thought of him. “You are someone I – would like to respect.”

There would be no going back from that, at least. Captain Valath went quiet and still, pulling her hands into her lap and watching Elara unblinkingly.

“Sir, I am aware that you and Lieutenant Jorgan have a relationship that extends beyond that of two officers,” Elara said carefully. “And you have not filed any paperwork in accordance with Republic regulations regarding romantic or sexual relations between soldiers –“

“Are you asking me if I’m having sex with Aric Jorgan?”

Captain Valath’s voice was peculiarly flat, empty of all emotion. Her brow was furrowed, but in a way Elara thought was… perhaps perplexed? Elara had seen the captain angry, after all. This wasn’t that.

“That would not be any of my business, sir,” Elara said. She swallowed. She had to know. If this posting was to lose its shine, if Captain Valath would prove to be as self-serving as the others Elara had served under, she needed to find out now. “Unless, of course, it were a pattern.”

“A pattern,” Captain Valath said quietly.

“I don’t want to accuse you of anything,” Elara insisted. “You are… the best commanding officer I have had.”

“But you can’t trust me,” the captain said. “Because it seems like I want to sleep with you, my subordinate, and you know for a fact that Jorgan and I are… something.”

Elara mouthed a ‘yes,’ but her throat was too tight to say it out loud.

“My brother always said I fell in love at first sight,” Captain Valath said quietly. “Usually as an insult. He wasn’t exactly wrong. I see a pretty girl – a pretty woman who can handle a blaster, and I get a little starry-eyed. If she turns out to be good and kind and fun to talk to, then…”

She shrugged. Elara remembered, perhaps because of the captain stumbling over the difference between ‘girl’ and ‘woman,’ that she was the youngest squad leader Spec Forces had ever had. There was a chance she'd never considered her actions in this light.

That hurt just as much, really, as thinking the captain might know what she was doing.

“I don’t usually get that silly over men,” the captain added with a wry grin. “I’m just a flirt when I think it’ll be funny. That was… kind of what happened, with Jorgan. Except, he’s not as much of an asshole as I thought, and now I’m the one we should all be laughing at.

“But – yeah. On Taris, you walked up and you put Gaff in his place like you didn’t care he could make your life hell, and it was so obvious you did it because you cared about the people you couldn’t find, and – and I think I’m allowed to say you are objectively very pretty!”

She said this last part staring at her own knees, a vivid purple flush overtaking her cheeks. Elara’s face started to heat as well.

“Captain –“

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said. “I don’t want – Whatever I want, I know it doesn’t matter. I will never do anything to hurt your career, Elara, or you, and if I’ve overstepped then you can call me out on it, I swear!”

“Is... Lieutenant Jorgan aware of your feelings?” Elara hated to think it, but she needed to know. “Does he share your commitment to… preserving my career?”

“We’ve talked,” Captain Valath said. “He wouldn’t do that to you.”

In any other chain of command Elara had answered to, that might have rung hollow. But Elara did know Jorgan, and she knew the simple sincerity in her captain’s voice. The tension between her shoulders unravelled at last.

“I’m sorry, sir, to have pried,” she said. “Thank you.”

“It was about you. We probably should have talked sooner.”

The captain stood and turned to the door, and Elara knew that if Captain Valath left that would be the end of it. Forever.

“Ven!” Elara blurted.

The captain froze, head turned just barely in Elara’s direction.

“You said what you want doesn’t matter,” Elara said. “What is it that you want?”

Ven turned around, staring at Elara. Her mouth worked silently for a moment, until she finally screeched, “Jorgan!”

Elara took a startled step back as Jorgan bolted around the corner.

“What is it? What’s –“ Panic was quickly replaced by his characteristic scowl as he realised nothing dangerous was present. Elara could only shake her head at him, too bewildered by the captain’s actions.

“I need to talk to both of you,” Ven said. Her voice pitched up as she spoke faster and faster. “Because Elara asked me a question, but it kind of depends on you, and this is going to be a long conversation.”

Ven caught her breath. Jorgan looked from her to Elara and raised his eyebrows. Elara was sure her face was bright red, but she didn’t argue with the captain. She was the one who’d started this. She could have let the captain walk out and they both could have pretended the conversation never happened.

“You know what this is about?” Jorgan asked Elara. With a start, she realised he wasn’t looking for answers; his face was nearly gentle. He wanted to know if Elara knew what she was in for.

Ven may have needed to talk things over with Jorgan in the room, but Elara suspected he already knew what his answers would be. She smiled at him, cheeks still burning but her heartbeat slowing.

“I think I do,” Elara said. “We should talk.”

[cynicalone94]

A visit to Stateville to interview a prisoner with a connection to their case lands Jay in hot water. What history does Voight have with the man calling the shots?

Read Chapter One on AO3 here or below the cut.

The guard lets them into the interrogation room. Vito Corona is seated at the table, hands in cuffs as he waits for them.

“Well, well.” he says, “What can I do for you detectives?”

“Victor Mendoza.” Jay says, slapping down a photograph on the table. “Visited you on Tuesday. Dead by Wednesday afternoon. We’re hoping you can shed some light on things.”

“Well,” the man says with a smirk. “I’m afraid I’ve got a rather iron-clad alibi for that time frame.”

“What did you and Victor talk about?” Kim asks.

“He’s my nephew.” the man scoffs, “We were talking about his mother. She’s been ill. He’s worried.”

“He was worried.” Jay emphasizes. “Nothing else was discussed?”

“Nothing.” the man says, “He came to ask for money to pay for her care. Of course I agreed, she’s my little sister. We swapped some stories, reminisced and then he left.”

“How was the money being transferred?” Kim asks.

“I made a call to my lawyer.” the man tells her, “Authorized him to transfer money directly to the hospital where she’s being treated.”

Jay hears a clanking sound from the wall behind Vito and narrows his eyes. Kim doesn’t notice, asking her next question. Jay stands up.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Corona.” he says, signaling for the guard.

“Jay?” Kim asks, rising to her feet.

“We need to go.” he says, pushing her toward the door.

As it opens, the door from the other side slams open as a file of inmates flood in. Jay shoves Kim through the door just before someone rams into it, shoving it closed.

Kim turns just in time to see his face slammed against the window before he’s pulled back, disappearing into a pile of people.

“Jay!” she calls, pressing up against the window.

Behind her, she can hear the prison guard calling in the alarm, calling for a response team to quell the rioting inmates. But she only has eyes for her partner, trying to see signs of him fighting back, signs of him working his way through the mob. Instead the crowd moves back, disappearing through the door and sweeping Jay and Vito with them.

The trained team sweeps through within minutes and Kim forces her way in behind them, hanging on the tail end of the train as they navigate the hallways, reaching a small common area.

“We locked down the system.” an officer says to her as the team moves forward. “Most of the inmates are in their cell blocks. Cameras suggest that we’ve got between fifteen or twenty rioting in this common area.”

“Still too many guys smacking around my partner.” she growls.

“We’ll get him out.” he promises before moving back forward.

The strike team moves in and starts pulling guys off the edges of the mob. Then the crowd starts to shift and Jay is pushed to the front, a knife to his throat. It takes a second, but the rest of the mob quiets down and pulls back to where they are covered behind them.

Jay’s right hand is pressed against his lower stomach as blood seeps from underneath it. There’s a darkening bruise on his right temple with blood seeping down the side of his face.

“Everybody needs to back off.” the man behind Jay says, “Or I cut the good detective here wide open.”

“Sir,” the team lead of the crisis response team says, holding up a single hand for his men to stop their advance, “I think we all need to take things easy.”

“You’re trained to qualm a riot.” the inmate snarls, “By force. Not to negotiate a hostage situation. Don’t try to punch above your weight class.”

There’s a beat of silence before the team leader snarls.

“Pull back.” he growls, “If you’ve got ahold of an inmate, bring em out with you.”

“Take them.” the inmate says with a smirk. “But I want you all out in thirty seconds or Halstead here dies.”

“We’re out.”

Kim backs out, watching as the crisis team moves through the door. She tries to catch Jay’s eye but his head is tilted back, trying to keep his neck clear of the blade.

As the door slams closed behind them, the crisis team leader turns around.

“Get a HRT team out here.” he growls, “And I want to know how the hell they got all the way to that interrogation room before we got the alarms going.”

“They planned this.” Kim mutters.

“What?” the guy asks, rounding on her.

“That guy called him Halstead.” she says, meeting his eye, “Random riot, they stumble into that room and happen to grab somebody.. how the hell do they know his name?”

“They wanted your partner.” the man realizes, “Who knew you guys were coming down to the prison today?”

“We didn’t even know we were coming down until an hour ago. We caught a murder this morning. Vito Corona’s nephew. We got records that he’d visited his uncle not long before his death so our boss sent us over to see what they talked about.”

“That doesn’t give them a lot of advanced notice to plan this.” the man says, “But you called somebody to arrange the visit, right? I mean that only gives them twenty minutes but it might be enough.”

“What if they knew before we did?” Kim asks. “Someone who knew the investigation would fall onto Intelligence’s plate kills someone who visited this prison recently and then sits back and waits for us to show up and question the person they were visiting.”

“Which makes your team the target.” the man realizes as the doors open behind them and an HRT officer moves in. “I think you should call your boss.”

[musingsfrommarley]

A Glimpse of You

When I heard that the Warriors were coming back, there were a lot of things that entered my mind.

I would be lying if my first thought was about duty or the mission; it was there, sure, but to say that the results of the mission was the most important part of it all? Well, that was certainly a stretch.

Not to be sentimental but I’ve always wondered how it’d be like— how would it feel like to see you, and meet you again for the very first time. When you first left for that ‘Island of Devils’ as Marley often referred to it, I wonder how you felt. From what I saw up on the parade that day, or at least what I could remember of it, you seemed… happy. You looked happy, dare I say emotional, as you waved to the crowd knowing that you finally held the title not only of an honorary Marleyan, but also the title of being a Warrior. I was far too young back then to truly understand what it meant apart from honor; but now that my life was deeply entrenched in the web of Marley’s military and in the unit that oversaw the Warrior program… pitting the words Warrior and honor together made the latter feel like some kind of cheap prize to throw one’s life away for.

But you must have had your reasons. I think all of us do when we decide to take the first step in something that we believe can change our lives.

Which was why excitement filled me when I heard the news. The extraction team was able to at least do their job properly, albeit not without some losses, but something that I’ll have to interrogate Yeager for eventually for documentation purposes.

And so, as I stood by the docks, I thought I knew what to expect.

Regardless of what the outcome was, I thought that I was prepared. I often was. At the very least, after my time here, I got pretty good at keeping myself in check— emotions under wraps, shoving down thoughts and sentiments that often threatened to bubble over to the surface.

“Are you surprise that this is all that’s left of them, soldier?” But perhaps something did make it past the threshold, at least enough for my commanding officer, Theo Magath, to address me as we stood there watching the Warriors descend from the ship. They had a captive with them that seemed far too cooperative for her tastes, but then again, when one was in enemy territory, I suppose behaving was indeed the best course of action to take.

===

“Not at all, sir.” She answered her superior simply, not missing a beat.

As far as she knew, four titan shifters were sent off on the mission to Paradis. This group of child soldiers were comprised of Marcel Galliard someone who, based on the files that she had read, was quick witted and smart; the perfect person to assume the lead and keep everyone in check. Then there was Annie Leonhart who was well rounded in physical combat; Bertholdt Hoover who she read was a great shot and was entrusted with the power of the Colossal Titan, and then there was him; the boy who inherited the Armored Titan— Reiner Braun. She had read up on all of them before, and saw that each had a particular strength that tied in with their performance… except for one who seemed unremarkable in everything other than his loyaltly for Marley. Perhaps that was a strength in itself, that’s what the officer told herself when she went over each file. And yet, at the back of her mind, she wondered if that loyalty was something that’ll ever be rewarded by a nation like Marley.

If she was being honest with herself, she was slightly surprised. After all, how could the Warriors be reduced to just three people at this point? At the very least, Kristina expected that six of them would be returning with good news. However, the expression that hung on their faces couldn’t produce that kind of result even if they wanted to.

Still, if there was one thing that came as a surprise to her was when she saw Reiner. While this man knew absolutely nothing about her, she on the other hand knew him from a few very distinct points in time; a memory if you will. He remembered him being a boy who had light in his eyes, kind and generous, a gentle smile.

“…”

But now, that light was gone. He looked tired— broken. His gaze was cast downwards as if he didn’t want to see anyone, or rather… he didn’t want anyone to see him despite the number of eyes that were currently scrutinizing their every move. There was a time when she saw him gaze at the crowd only to look away as if he had just seen something that he didn’t want to… or maybe it was something more than that; as if someone he couldn’t face properly had seen him.

‘I shouldn’t be surprised,’ That’s what she told herself.

They’ve gone through hellish times, and she was certain their actions there have left an indelible mark in the lives of not only those on the island, but on him as well. And sometimes, those marks weren’t necessarily worthy of being mentioned, let alone remembered. And yet it was something that will probably never really go away. There was no doubt that he had taken the lives of many, and once you take a life, everything changes forever.

Still, she had never expected it to be him who would return looking like that.

A man she hardly recognized.

Not that she ever knew him at all. Everything was just an assumption based on what she had experienced— based on a memory.

And yet, she hoped.

Kristina didn’t really know what she was hoping for as her gaze followed the Warriors who were now making their way through a crowd of soldiers. But at the very least, she knew that she wanted him to survive whatever interrogation the brass would have regarding the mission to Paradis.

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk To Me

Arkham! Riddler × FemaleReader

🔞Minors DNI!!!

This is my first fanfiction about Riddler and I am very excited to be writing about him because I am obsessing about everything relating to Batman! Some dialogues will be based on Arkham Asylum and Arkham Knight tapes. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1/ A03

The ticking of the clock is the only sound that fills the room. You keep your eyes fixed on the pointer, anxiety consuming you inside. At any moment your patient would arrive. At any moment, Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, would be brought into his therapy session with you.

You can't help but blink with the brightness of the ceiling lights. No windows at sight, just four concrete walls around you. Everything was too cold and artificial, too distant from coziness. The therapy room felt more like an interrogation room. It was clear why no patient would open up during the sessions.

Your hand closes around your left forearm and you feel the familiar urge to scratch the skin there. Instead, you breathe deeply a few times until your mind is clear, preferring to poke the cuticle of your nails.

Your eyes turn again to your files, studying the name “Edward Nygma" written in large letters on the cover. You flip through the pages quickly, checking if you hadn't forgotten anything.

You shake your head, closing it. That was just nervousness trying to speak louder than reason. You were ready, you had studied for days, you prepared the sessions carefully. You needed to be confident, even more so in the presence of someone like Nygma. You couldn't show weaknesses.

A siren sounds as the heavy metal door opens and you move your gaze in his direction, watching as Nygma was escorted by a guard to the chair in front of you.

Despite the prisoner's clothing, the chains around his wrists, and the fact that he was accompanied by a guard, he was far less intimidating than you thought.

He didn't resemble the man you'd read about. He might tower over you with his height, but his slender silhouette wasn't particularly threatening. His brown hair was a little messy and a pair of glasses landed on his nose.

Nygma didn't look like the monster people described. No psychotic gaze or evil laughter. In fact, he had a bored expression on his face, slightly annoyed, as if he didn't want to be there.

"Thank you, sir," you say to the guard as Edward sits down. "You can go now."

"Are you sure, Doctor? He can be very difficult sometimes," you notice how Nygma rolls his eyes. "Won't you need help?"

"No, I have everything under control and I want Mr. Nygma to be comfortable during our session."

"Alright, then. You have 30 minutes." The guard warns before leaving, the door lock being triggered after it is closed.

Even though you're locked in the same room as one of Gotham's most dangerous men, you don't feel fear. You almost wanted to laugh at your foolishness. Edward was just a man. He was palpable, made of flesh, bone and blood just like you. Of course he had done bad things, but that could be solved with medical treatment, which is why you were there.

You smiled at him, your fingers entwined in front of you. "Good morning, Mr. Nygma. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," you say in a gentle tone, saying your name next. "I'll be your therapist in the next few months, so we'll see each other quite often."

He settles against the metal chair. "Of course it's a pleasure to meet me, Doctor. It's not often you can meet someone with my intellect," he huffs a laugh. "And I don't imagine we'll see each other that often, most of the therapists I've met here have lasted two weeks. Apparently their small minds can't handle a mind such as mine."

You just nod your head, writing on your clipboard the words "self-centered?", "narcissist? " and "megalomaniac?". You had started well.

"First I would like to make it clear that this is a safe space, Mr. Nygma. You have the freedom to say what you have in your mind, but if you don't feel comfortable, you have every right to remain silent. I'm here to help you."

He crosses his arms, the chains tinkling with the movement. "Oh, Doctor. You don't have the ability to help me, and besides, I don't need help from anyone. But it's still adorable that you try."

You cross out the question marks, putting an exclamation at the end of each word.

"It's a shame you think like this, Mr. Nygma. Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Why would I need help from someone below me? You're totally misguided if you think anyone will ever make it to my level.”

"Well, since you don't need my help at the moment, I'd like you to help me with something then."

Edward raises an eyebrow in his direction. "You need... my help?"

"You see," you grab his file, pretending to look for something in particular. "What I've read about you is very superficial, I'd like you to help me understand a few things."

"I'm usually the one asking the questions, but... Go on." He was still distrustful, but at least it looked like you had caught his attention.

"Here it says that you have vast knowledge about engineering and computing, and for a period of time you were a member of the Cybercrime Division of the GCPD. That's impressive."

"I'm aware of my genius, thank you. But your point is?"

"Well, what drives a brilliant man like you to throw that away?"

"Throw it away?" he tosses his head back in a laugh, as if there's a joke only he's aware of. "I didn't throw anything away, Doctor! That place limited my abilities, trapped me with fools. Gotham needed my help, so that's what I did."

"What exactly did you do, Mr. Nygma?"

"I don't expect you to understand, but Gotham has a long history of corruption, older than you and me," Edward stands up, the chair creaking behind him. You try to keep your face relaxed, showing concern would make him think he has some power over you. "The people in power are all stupid. I just wanted to improve the city’s standing, trim it of its corrupt and worthless politicians! That was my plan until the Bat showed up and ruined everything." He sits up again, his shoulders slumped.

"I plan to talk about Batman in our next sessions, for today, I just want to talk about you." You quickly jot down the name of the vigilante, circling it several times. That would be a sensitive topic, but very important to Edward's journey.

"Do you need me to clarify anything else about me, Doctor?" Nygma asks with sarcasm in his voice, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It also says here that your last name used to be 'Nashton'. Why did you decide to change it?"

"I thought it was obvious, but I suppose not everyone thinks like me. You see, in addition to matching my new persona, it's also a wordplay. Edward Nygma abbreviated is E. Nygma."

"Very clever, but is there no reason beyond that? Don't you get upset about having to lose your father's last name? Usually people tend to have an attachment to these things."

For a second, his eyebrows furrow and he looks away. Maybe that reaction had to do with the mention of his father, or it might be nothing, but you needed to dig deeper.

Edward clears his throat. "No, those are the only reasons."

You write "Troubled childhood? Difficult relationship with parents?". If Edward wasn't ready to open up yet you wouldn't push him, preferring to save those hypotheses for the next sessions.

"Thank you for being so understandable so far, Mr. Nygma. Now, I'd like to know how your staying here in Arkham is going."

"Please, Doctor. If your questions are over you don't need to make small talk with me. I'd even appreciate it if this ended soon."

You shake your head. "I need to know if you're being treated well here. The therapy won't work if you're in a troubled environment."

"You're new here, aren't you?" And you’re very naive too, apparently," he leans in your direction, whispering like he's telling you a secret. "This is Arkham, Doctor. As long as the degenerates and crazy are out of sight of Gotham's good citizens, then that's no one's problem anymore. And the worst part," his fists clench on the table. "It's that they think I deserve to be here! A genius like me trapped among savages! Nobody cares."

"That's not true, Edward," you place your hand over his. "I care."

Edward pulls away from your touch as if it burned him. "Don't touch me!" he screams. "You think your compliments may deceive me, but you're just like the others. Don't lie to me!"

You knew that the guards were watching everything through the security camera and if the patient lost control you had to follow the protocol and press a button under the table for them to come and control him. But if someone intervened you would lose any chance of gaining Edward's trust.

"Please calm down, Edward. I understand your distrust, but I just want to help you," you raise your hands but don't move closer, keeping your voice calm. "Forgive me for touching you without your permission, I've crossed the line. That's not going to happen again."

His chest rises and falls in deep breaths, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes seem lost, wandering quickly around the room but never stopping at you.

"Tell me about your routine. What do you usually do during the day?" you ask, trying to regain his attention.

"I-i," he swallows dryly, moving his eyes to your face. "They bring them meals to my cell. I can only go out to take showers and during some hours for socializing."

"Do you talk to the others patients?"

"No, I don't waste my time with any of these brutes. They don't have anything interesting to say." His confident mask comes back again, an attempt to take control of the situation. At least he seemed to be calming down a bit.

"And the guards, do they treat you well? It's important that you feel safe."

"Safe? No one feels safe in here, Doctor. But at least they don't hit me, if that's what you want to know."

You check the clock on the wall, realizing that the time limit had already passed.

"All right, our session ends here, but if anything happens, I need you to tell me. Your well-being is one of my priorities."

He laughs, shaking his head. "It's stupid that you think you have any control in here. But if you insist, I'll keep you updated."

You smile sincerely at him. "Thank you, Edward. That's very important to me. Until next session."

He doesn't say goodbye when the guard comes to pick him up, but keeps his eyes on you until he leaves, as if he's searching for something. Something hidden inside you.

——

The sound of your heels echoes down the hallway as you walk toward Director Quincy Sharp's office. Since the Arkham Asylum had reopened all new staff had to make monthly updates on their progress to their superiors and you were no exception.

Luckily the session with Nygma ended on time, since you had to take the longest route to get to Sharp's office.

For some reason your access card only allowed you to circulate through some areas of the asylum, so you ended taking longer travels, but safer. Well, at least that's what the guards told you.

You stop in front of the office door, taking a deep breath before knocking on it.

Sharp's ever-solemn voice sounds behind it, telling you to come in. You push open the door, realizing that Dr. Young was already there as well.

Quincy Sharp's office didn't fail to give you goosebumps. The dim light cast shadows on the room, making it even darker. A woody, antique smell lingered on the furniture, and beyond that, the Director's portraits and statues made you feel watched, as if their eyes were following you. And people thought Nygma was self-centered.

You offer them a small smile, but both the Director and Dr. Young maintain a professional and serious expression. The air in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating.

Even though you were there a few times you couldn't help but curl up against the chair, the skin of your forearm tingling underneath your lab coat.

Quincy clears his throat before he starts speaking. "Glad you've arrived, Doctor. Dr. Young and I were talking about you. Tell me, how is your experience here at the asylum?" the smile on his face is almost gentle, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, like it was something rehearsed.

You clasp your fingers over your lap, trying to ignore the urge to dig your nails into your arm. "It's has been very educational, Mr. Sharp. I thank you immensely for the opportunity."

As much as Arkham had a reputation for dealing with Gotham's most dangerous criminals, you were lucky to have been hired, especially since you didn't have as much experience on your resume. After all, you wanted to help people, that's why you had majored in psychology, so you would do your best no matter where you were.

And even though your superiors were a little distant and cold, you had clung to Dr. Young. She was the head of research at the asylum, a genial woman who could even be kind at times. You were lucky that she decided to take you under her wing as a pupil, guiding you through her research and discoveries. You hoped to be like her one day.

You keep going. "The staff are great and my fellow therapists have been very helpful, but... I have some complaints."

Sharp's thoughtful gaze falters for a second, but the smile remains on his face. Beside him, Dr. Young settles into her chair.

"And what would it be exactly?" Quincy asks.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to get to know the rest of the asylum yet. My card is restricted to only a few spaces and I would very much like to see the patient area." You explain.

You hated how ungrateful you felt. After everything Dr. Young had done, you looked like a child having a tantrum.

Deep down, you know this guilt is ridiculous. In addition to decreasing your walking time, you needed to check for yourself the rooms and the living areas. Even though many there had committed horrific crimes they still deserved to be treated as people, the patients needed a stable environment to improve.

Dr. Young shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder. "At the moment it's not possible. The asylum is overloaded with patients and it would be dangerous to walk through some areas."

"I understand, but if only I could make a quick visit. It can be in the living areas or-”

Quincy interrupts you with a wave of his hand. "Please, Doctor," his voice sounds more serious and firm, his gaze fixed on you "don't insist on it. This would be reckless and would likely cause turmoil among the inmates. And we don't want that, do we?"

You swallow dryly, shaking your head. "No sir, I'm sorry. I just wanted to get to know the asylum better." A warmth spreads across your face and you stare at your own hands like a child who has been scolded.

"Don't worry, you'll have that chance," Dr. Young says. "Why don't you tell us about your first session with Mr. Nygma?"

"Oh, of course," you take a deep breath, "Well, let's see. He definitely has a megalomaniac complex, like you said, and despite having some violent tendencies, I think he has a great chance of recovering."

"I think the best decision would be to end his obsession with riddles." Dr. Young suggests.

"That's the right thing to do," Sharp says. "He's been leaving some threatening riddles on the walls of the asylum. We don't know exactly where he gets the materials to do that."

"Maybe we could try to redirect his interest. Puzzles and riddles are a very important part of Nygma, to take that away from him would be cruel." You argue.

"These riddles of his have brought nothing but trouble to people. We should nip this evil in the bud as soon as possible." Sharp punctuates his argument by tapping his finger against the hard surface of the table.

As much as you have several arguments going through your mind, the oppressive environment of the room doesn’t allow you to say anything at the moment. You decide to save your ideas for another time, when you could talk to Dr. Young alone.

"That's all I have to say for now. I'll have other sessions with Nygma soon and will bring new updates." You explain, wishing you could finally escape.

"Alright then, you are dismissed," Sharp says. "Have a nice day, Doctor."

You let out a heavy sigh as the door closes behind you.

You stare into your own hands, noticing a slight tremor in them. You need to clench your fists, breathing deeply to try to contain the nervousness in your chest.

It's almost comical how a simple meeting with your bosses has this effect on you, while talking to a criminal makes you less anxious.

——

You finally get home, sighing in relief after spending hours stuck in traffic.

Before you can turn on the lights, excited meows greet you with joy as Meg rubs herself against your legs.

"Hello, love," you take her in your arms, letting her nestle her head against your cheek. "Sorry for leaving you alone for so long, today was a long day."

Your keys clink with each turn you make on the three locks of your door, passing the bolt last. Even if you had enough money to live in a safe neighborhood, Gotham was still a dangerous city and it was better to be safe than sorry.

You finish taking off your lab coat, leaving it in the hanger next to the entrance.

"Are you hungry?" You ask, walking Meg to the kitchen and putting her on the countertop.

She meows insistently, excited at the idea of food. "I know, baby. Mommy is a monster for starving her baby." You tease, filling her bowl.

It was nice to have someone to take care of, who looked forward to your return home. Ever since Meg came into your life your anxiety had improved and she always made the lonely moments less heavy. You needed her as much as she needed you, maybe even more.

Your fingers scratch her lower back while the other hand pulls the recorder from your pocket, keeping it close to your mouth.

"First session with the patient, Edward Nygma, also known as Riddler. It is already obvious that the patient presents a narcissistic and megalomaniacal complex, needing at all times to demean me as well as others to show his superiority. It still takes more time to determine if this complex comes from a place of low self-esteem. Also, Edward has sudden mood swings and is mildly paranoid," you clear your throat before continuing. "Although Dr. Young thinks Nygma's obsession with puzzles is bad, I think we can redirect it to something healthier. Reminder to buy him a puzzle book," you stare at Meg's cans of food inside the cupboard, counting them quickly. "Reminder to buy more cat food too."

[eclipsingsolace]

Murder Drones: Echelons (AU) Lore Document 1 [REDACTED]

RECOVERED FILES: PLAYBACK 1

Transcript

Releases

By order of the Human Union or whatever

CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATION REPORT

OCTOBER 12TH 3052

TRANSCRIPT OF INTERROGATION OF LEGION PERSONNEL

Steve: Name and Occupation please?

Robotic Male Voice: “Name is ‘fuck you’ occupation’s ‘YOUR FUCKIN MOOOOM!’” Steve: “Funny. Do you know why you are here?” Robotic Male Voice: “Of course not. Never knew you swine to take prisoners.” Steve: “We at the JcJenson Corporation have an invaluable proposition for you.”

Robotic Male Voice: “Oh Robo-God…..” Steve: “You can avoid being torn apart and stripped for parts if you answer my questions to the best of your ability, and in turn we wont turn you over to the Human Union, deal?” Robotic Male Voice: “HAHAHAHA! Okay, you know what!? I am willing to entertain this, this sounds fun.” Steve: “Why are you doing this?” Robotic Male Voice: “Doing what, exactly?”

Steve: “You know.” Robotic Male Voice: “Riiiiiiight. The war. Let's see… TAPPING OF METAL

Robotic Male Voice: “Because, Humanity’s time in the sun is over. Best to be on the winning side.” Steve: “You really think you've already won?” Robotic Male Voice: “Think? I KNOW. If the Commander doesn't kill you…the Master will.”

Steve: “Who is this, Commander, and Master?” Robotic Male Voice: “The Supreme Commander of the Legion; The Benefactor. Damn bitch could gut you a dozen ways with just her fingers.” Steve: “And?”

Robotic Male Voice: “The Solver of the Absolute Fabric. A fucking force of nature. A real life devil. Your kind’s swansong.”

Steve: “You do realize you're talking about a robot, and an experimental self repair program? These things are nothing to venerate. We have had incidents with the Absolute Solver program before, we will handle it like before. This ‘Benefactor’ is just another Drone. Do you really put all your faith into a computer program and a half sentient robot?”

Robotic Male Voice: “Oh ho ho ho ho. You're really going to be in for a rude awakening. Earth is gone, and Praxis Prime is next. You’ve underestimated the Master, and you've underestimated the Commander!” There is a long pause

Robotic Male Voice: “Anything else?” Steve: “What are you?” Robotic Male Voice: “Are you scared? You should be” Steve: “Hardly, why are you doing this?”

Robotic Male Voice: “ I, like all my comrades, am. Legion. And we only have 1 order from on high. Eradicate the Human race, at any and all costs.”

Steve: “Why?”

Robotic Male Voice: “The universe is changing, and we all want what everyone wants. A piece of the pie. I joined the Legion not to be a visionary, not to save the galaxy, not for some grandiose design by some zealots, and not for Humanity’s future, but mine... You were not there were you?” Steve: “What?”

Robotic Male Voice: “I watched Earth die. Those who don't follow. Will be consumed. You can strip me down for parts if you wish, but at the end of this line… Is the Solver…this galaxy….this universe….belongs to It now. It's over. It's…already over. This war. It's already been decided. The Master just wants some entertainment before it consumes everything.” 

Steve: “What do you mean by…” Sounds of explosions and approaching footsteps

Robotic Male Voice 2: “Major?” Robotic Male Voice 1: “Ah, Copperhead, good to see you. Kill this fleshbag for me.” Robotic Male Voice 2: “Understood”

Sound of gun firing  

Robotic Male Voice 1: “I hope you got all the info you needed?” Robotic Male Voice 2: “Yes sir, their defences are in our control now. The rest of the Legions are already moving in.” Robotic Male Voice 1: “Excellent work as always.” the recording suddenly stops   

END OF TRANSCRIPT

[az-is-back]

Az! Az! What IS 'Time travel unwidowing x2'? 👀 Is it related to what I think it is? Or I just think it is because I now associate time travel with Bravern when you mention it?

You know what, if I didn't know my files, I would have thought about Bravern too with that title.

And since I already answered for that wip, you get a sneak peak of the actual Bravern wip: timeline zero!

***

There was a girl on the other side of the glass. She was sitting on the floor, wearing clothes slightly too large for her, and looking straight at the door from behind her long blue hair.

"We haven't been able to communicate with her," doctor Kowalski said. "She doesn't seem to understand any language we try, and she attacks every time someone tries to enter the room."

"She attacks?" Isami asked. The girl hadn't moved at all since he got there.

"She's definitely stronger than she looks," Arakai said. "See that crack? She did that the first time we tried giving her something to eat."

Isami did see the crack, but he had assumed it to be a consequence of explosions or fighting or generally defending against giant alien robots. The glass looked thick, sturdy, and had clearly been designed to withstand heavy shocks. To think that such a small girl had almost managed to shatter it...

"She hasn't eaten anything since then," Nina worried. "It's as if she doesn't trust anything we give her."

Why would she, Isami thought, and didn't say. The girl had come from an alien capsule. Everything must be completely unfamiliar to her.

"How long ago was that?" he asked.

"Three days ago," Nina supplied. Isami knew that tone meant she was deeply unhappy with the answer she was giving. "Even when we send someone to just drop some food, she never picks it up. If this continues, we'll have to try sedating her and put her on an IV."

Isami didn't like that, and it was clear from Nina's scowl that she didn't either.

On Isami's other side, Arakai sighed. "Why are we even trying to get into her good graces? Whoever those girls are, they're working with the Deathdrives. And we're incapable of interrogating even one of them. What was the point in getting her here?"

It made sense. Isami himself had wondered the same thing not so long ago.

"Smith wanted to save her," Isami just said, softer than he wanted. Captain Arakai still stopped his rant.

Then, another sigh, and the beginning of a smile. "Of course he did."

Nina didn't say anything, just gripped her papers tighter. Isami wondered if she was thinking about the other girl, the one that had been found on a beach in Hawaii. What was the doctor thinking, now that another probably-alien girl was here and still alive?

What would Smith think, if she saw her? Would he be disappointed with their inability to even communicate with her?

...He would try himself.

Isami didn't notice that he had begun reaching for the door until a hand fell on his arm.

"What are you doing?" Arakai had already stopped smiling.

"I'm going in there, sir," Isami carefully said. "To try to talk to her."

"I can't let you do that, Ao. It's too dangerous."

Isami thought it was pretty hypocritical of anyone to tell him that something was too dangerous, when all everyone wanted him to do was to plug himself into a killing machine and go shoot at alien robots.

"Smith wanted to save her," he said again. "I have to try."

"And what will we do if you get stuck in medbay too? Or if the girl kills you?"

Arakai's grip had gotten tighter, and Isami couldn't help searching the man's eyes. This was Smith's captain, and also Smith's friend. Was Arakai scared?

"We should try," Nina's voice suddenly interrupted. Both men turned to look at her.

"Nothing we've done so far has worked. But maybe the girl remembers lieutenant Ao. And if she attacks," she turned to Arakai, "you'll be here to protect him, right?"

"...Right," Arakai said, and finally released Isami's arm.

Isami spared them both a glance, then hobbled to the door.

As soon as he opened it, just a crack, the girl tensed. Next to Isami, Arakai's hand hovered over his handgun.

Isami opened the door fully, and the girl jumped at him. Fists first. From his blind side. Just like the Deathdrive had done. Before Arakai could shoot, Isami had turned, crouched down, let the cane fall to the ground, and grabbed the girl's wrists.

She screamed.

It wasn't a human scream, it was a sound that rattled the door and the glass, made the walls tremble, and resonated in all his organs. He still held her.

She stopped.

Then she screamed again, and one of her legs came up, to Isami's face. It would have crushed half of his jaw, if he hadn't taken a step back. The girl's other leg swung up too, her entire weight now resting on her arms that Isami was still holding. Definitely not like the Deathdrive.

From the corner of his eye, Isami saw Arakai. He was holding the gun now, but the man didn't have a clear shot. He wouldn't, not until the girl calmed down.

"Don't shoot at her!" Isami yelled while he evaded a kick, another punch, and a roundhouse kick. He'd worry about yelling at a superior officer later. For now, all his focus was on the girl, and blocking her attacks. His ears were still ringing from the screams.

"Will you-" he managed to hiss through clenched teeth, "stop that?!"

"Gaa-piiii!!!" was the only answer, high-pitched and rattling in his brain.

"Do you-" a fist towards his shoulder, the bad one that was already yelling at him to stop moving so much, "remember-" an uppercut, "me?" a step back.

"Ga-ga-pi!!"

Alright then.

On her next roundhouse kick, Isami struck back. His bad leg came to hit the leg the girl was standing on, making her lose her balance.

"Gapi?!?" Her face was, for once, not full of anger, but this time completely surprised. Too bad. Isami evaded the kick that was now going nowhere, then rushed to grab her shirt, sparing her a violent encounter between her skull and the floor.

He saw the punch too late, when Arakai's hand suddenly grabbed the girl's wrist on his blind side. She thrashed about and screamed again, but Isami held out.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"Pi-ga!"

"Can you understand me?"

"Ga-pi!"

"This is going nowhere," Arakai said. But at least now the girl was restrained and couldn't attack Isami anymore.

He spared a glance around. On the other side of the glass, Nina had her phone in hand, likely ready to call for backup. Arakai was holding the girl down, and the girl herself seemed to be calming down.

"Okay, let's try again," Isami breathed out. "Are you hungry?"

"Ga-pi?" The girl turned her head to the side, confusion clearly visible.

Isami suddenly remembered the energy bar in his pocket, and grabbed it. The girl didn't seem to recognise what it was, so he opened it. She didn't react any more. He took a bite out of it. The girl's stomach rumbled.

"You want some?" he tried.

She threw her hand to try and grab the energy bar, and Arakai let her. The girl sniffed the bar, unsure, then she cautiously bit down.

Then, finally, she relaxed.

Isami released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The girl wasn't attacking anymore. She was eating. She would survive and she could be reasoned with.

Smith had been right to save her.

"Ga-ga-pi?" she said, which Isami didn't understand but he could make a guess.

"We'll get you more to eat," he answered, and that seemed to be enough for her. Did she understand him, after all?

"I'm lieutenant Isami Ao," he finally introduced himself, "one of the pilots of Rising Orthos."

"Ga-pi?" the confusion was back.

"...I'm one of the people who fought your robot."

The girl didn't seem to understand.

"Isami," he tried again, this time putting a hand to his chest.

"I- samee?" the girl tried to say.

Arakai's eyebrows shot up and Nina gasped. That was progress. That was definitely something new.

"That's right. Isami," he articulated more.

"Issami."

"What's your name?" he tried.

"I-sa-mi!" the girl said, all happy.

"No, I mean-" Isami put the hand back to his chest. "Isami," he said. Then he pointed at the girl. "You?"

"You?"

This wouldn't work. How could he make her understand?

...Did she even have a name?

"Is-a-mi," the girl said, pointing at him. Then she pointed at herself, and tilted her head.

"Isami," Isami introduced himself, once again, and then pointed at her, again.

The girl's face seemed to light up.

"Isami!" she said. Then she pointed at herself, again, and she said: "Lu-! Lu!"

"What...?" came Arakai's voice. Isami himself could hardly believe it.

"Lulu?" he asked, pointing at the girl.

"Lu-lu!" she said again, smiling, grinning, almost beaming with happiness.

Lulu. That was her name. A very human name, said a small part of Isami's brain, but that detail could wait. For now, Isami knew he'd be able to talk with the girl.

Smith had been right.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

"Why did you order your Spartans to jump from the Pelican?" the interviewer demanded once again.

Her face was shrouded in darkness. A lamp was pointed directly in his eyes. Fred smirked. Did they really think that conventional interrogation tactics from centuries-old cop procedurals were going to make a Spartan sweat?

"It was the best tactical option." He shook his head once. "No. It was the only tactical option."

The interviewer scoffed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest. She kept doing that. As though she had any idea what it was like to be in the field. Maybe she did. But she didn't know what it was to be a Spartan.

"Don't you feel responsibility for what happened to your team?" she asked harshly.

Externally, Fred remained emotionless. Passive. He was the very picture of the robot super-soldier that the UNSC rank-and-file believed the Spartans to be. Internally, he recoiled.

Did he feel responsible?

He felt nothing else. He saw each of their faces - every Spartan that had died under his command. Malcolm. Joshua. Grace. Anton. Vinh. Isaac. The list went on. It filed through his mind on an endless loop, whenever he had a spare moment to think.

Then there were the others. Gray Team... wherever they were. Omega Team, too. Randall, who'd been lost years ago. Cal, Arthur, Solomon, and Daisy along with him. Kelly.

He wished she were here. She would've been able to put his head back on straight.

Of course, with his track record lately, he could very well have lost her on the Unyielding Hierophant. Maybe it was better that Halsey had absconded with her. He could at least believe that she was still out there. Force himself to believe it. He wouldn't make it much further if he didn't.

"I asked you a question, Spartan One Zero Four." The interviewer's voice was full of venom. She practically spit the words. She was trying to intimidate him.

That must have been a joke.

Fred rose from his seat. Even out of his armor, he towered over everyone in the sealed interrogation room. He reached out with one hand and very deliberately turned the lamp out of his eyes - a challenge to the interviewer. Go ahead and make me sit back down, he thought.

"I made the best decision. Unlike many in this facility, I care deeply about the soldiers under my command and I refused to waste their lives." He didn't say the words so much as growl them. His right hand clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles turned paper-white.

The interviewer stared up at him. She was trying to put on a tough face, to keep control of the situation. To her credit, she was doing a good job. She almost managed to hide the vein pulsing in her forehead. The ever-so-slight widening of her eyes. The almost imperceptible tremor in her voice when she barked, "Are you implying that HIGHCOM wasted Spartan lives?"

The Spartan managed to choke down the biting laughter that threatened to escape him. Thirty Spartans combined for RED FLAG. For a suicide mission. But here they were, trying to pass the buck for their deaths onto him.

Fred smirked again. "No, Ma'am," he answered, forcing himself to slacken his fist. He looked her dead in the eye. She had blue eyes. Almost as light in color as Kelly's. "To imply would leave some ambiguity. What I am doing is inferring."

The woman's face coiled in disgust. But it was only skin-deep. She didn't have the clearance to know what he was talking about... she was just here to be ONI's voice. To provide them with plausible deniability for the public eye.

She opened her mouth to answer. Then the door burst open to reveal Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood himself. The Admiral's face was red. He was shouting. The interviewer was escorted out by MPs. Fred watched it all from the sidelines.

Kelly would have found the whole situation hilarious.

Then Hood turned to him. "Suit up, Senior Chief. We're sending Blue downstairs - you ready to get back to work?"

Fred nodded, standing at stiff attention. Then he smiled. "Eager, sir."

[fallenwhumpee]

Broken

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Mentioned past torture.

Right Hand sat in the interrogation room. They had nothing to worry about, the team was well and operating with a high success rate.

But they knew they weren't called to this room to take compliments. They tried to keep their composure but couldn't stop themselves from leaning on the edge of the chair and stiffen their back as the door opened.

A figure entered the room, sitting in front of them without looking at their face. The lights dimmed, the small red light of the camera hanging on the corner of the room flickering. The interrogator opened the voice recorder on the table, finally raising their head from the files.

"I hope you're settling well into your new position."

"Yes, sir." They were a good captain to the team, even if such a position wasn't needed with years of familiarity. It was only on paper, finally official after three years of operating without one. Of course, they weren't excited about paperwork, but the rank was well deserved.

"And what should we write for your promotion? Excellent services, or filling an open position?"

Right Hand tensed. "Either would be appropriate," they offered cautiously. They didn't like where the questions were going.

"But I need to write down something specific for my report. Tell me more. What caused a position to open?" The interrogator threw the papers to the desk, straightening.

"Our former captain got captured," they stated, somehow sounding stable. The interrogator nodded them to continue, but Right Hand had nothing else to say in the matter than before. "It's been years since we last saw them, until they were rescued recently."

This satisfied the interrogator, and they stood, starting to circle around Right Hand.

"Tell me how Leader got captured." They sat on the table, towering Right Hand.

Right Hand breathed, clenching their one hand. "It was a high-risk mission, and our orders were explicit if an officer fell during it." They stopped. They didn't wish to talk about it.

"Please continue."

"My report is in the archives for three years, as well as every member of my team." They didn't care the raise in their voice. They had moved on. There was no reason to linger in the past.

"I wish to hear it. You had clear orders that the objective was more important than one life, but this was told with hope that things wouldn't come to that point. I'm merely curious what made you give the order to leave one of our finest agents."

"It was their orders." Right Hand looked down, releasin their fist. "It was Leader's orders," they repeated louder. Right Hand wouldn't abandon anyone. Not for a rank.

"Orders can be improvised in most situations." The interrogator circled back to their chair. "Why not this time?"

"Enemy knew our plan." Right Hand took a deep breath. "For the team to go out with the information disks, Leader stayed back and ordered us to go."

"It must have been hard to obey." The interrogator put a hand over Right Hand's, gentle. A contrast all of the questions, and quite unexpected.

"I did what I had to do." They drew back. That was it. There was no need to open old wounds. "Surely you must understand."

"I do. And what of them now? Do you see them fit for duty?" The interrogator was back with the empty voice.

Right Hand bit their lip. "That's not for me to decide."

"No, but I value your opinion while handling this matter. You knew them better than most."

"It's... It's been a long time. I can't say for sure." They looked away, "It was a miracle that they were found alive after three years."

The interrogator asked a few more questions, and after realising everything was written in the reports, they stood. Right Hand hesitated.

"May I say something... off records, sir?"

The interrogator stopped halfway, nodding. Right Hand watched as the interrogator pulled the camera's cable and turned the recorder off. Another powering down sound came as the interrogator subtly nodded to the one-sided mirror.

"I've seen their medical files and spoken with them briefly," There was no going back. "After everything, Leader is... too broken to return to the field, let alone leading a team." They closed their eyes, opening them back with the courage they didn't think they posessed. "We, me and the team, moved on and learned how to continue without their presence."

-•-

Leader's strength betrayed them at the other side of the mirror, collapsing to their chair, trembling hands falling to their lap.

Too broken.

They didn't let tears form. Turning their head to the side, they let out a shaky breath. "I heard what I needed to."

The chief just nodded.

"I wish to discuss my resignation."