#i only needed 6 blanks for the cover but this gives me some more leeway with the designs

[discountalien-pancake]

Bite and Sting tile blanks! The dried clay makes the most satisfy click-clack sounds when you tap the tiles on a hard surface (including each other!) and I’m so pleased. Sooo worth the effort of making actual tiles and not just cutting out cards.

[adrenaline-roulette]

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 8K+ (She’s a doozy!) Warnings: Language, angst, very basic medical procedures *Disclaimer: Hey again guys, so sorry about the delay with this chapter. But I’ll admit, I actually got this posted a lot sooner than I thought I would! So kudos to me I guess? I just want to say a huge thank you to all of those who have been with this story since the beginning, and those who have joined us along the way. This isn’t the end of this story, but I just want to let you all know how much you all mean to me.  And please remember, if you read this story and you like it, give it a like, a comment and maybe even a reblog if you think your followers may like it? I know there isn’t much happening in the 6 Underground fandom these days, but the only way to keep it alive, is if people keep reading and writing for the characters!

All my love my dudes ❤❤❤

Probably best if you check out the other chapters first..... One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Chapter Eleven: Don’t let me fall, at least not alone

“Four? Can you hear me?” Billy felt weak, and highly disoriented. His head was spinning, as if he actually was fighting a migraine, unlike the one he was supposed to be faking…. Faking, why was he faking a migraine again? “Four, stay with us!” The voice continued calling out, though why was this person yelling out a number? A name sure, he could understand that. But calling out random numbers? That just served to confuse him more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” This was a new voice now, one which sounded just as Billy’s eyes had slowly drifted closed against the harsh fluorescent lights above him. How strange, surely these people weren’t addressing him were they?

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” The same voice from before was firing orders, her voice holding an edge of fear and concern. Suddenly a shadow appeared above his closed eyes, and carefully he peeled them open, relieved to not be greeted with bright lights, and instead by a shadowed figure. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.” She was whispering to him, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Though it was hard to be sure, especially as he struggled to keep his eyes from falling shut once more.

How had things turned out like this? The last thing he could recall, was speaking with a woman dressed in white at a reception desk. Then it had all gone blank for him.

*****

You paced around the small living room of the house you had all been calling base for the past few weeks, sucking in deep breath after deep breath, all the while clutching your arms around yourself in a tight embrace. “Nope, I can’t do it. I cannot do this guys!”

Two looked up at you from her gossip magazine, having taken great pleasure in the abundance of French reading material. She was the only one of you in the group to have settled into your temporary accommodation, and was fitting in with the locals perfectly. Rolling her eyes at your outburst, she returned to her reading. It wasn’t that she was being unsupportive, far from it actually. It was just that she had reached her limit of words of support, forty odd minutes ago, at the beginning of your breakdown.

“Yes, you can. You know you can! We’ve been over the plan hundreds of times now, everything is in place. Weapons are stored in the hospital, the Lushnick’s are there, we’ve seen them! Everything is working out according to plan. Four will be on his way to Emergency within a few hours, then it’s all up to us. We can’t leave him.” It was One’s turn to play reassurer this time around, and he was the first to raise Four as if knowing it would get a rise out of you.

You whirl on the spot, eyes growing wide and pupils blown. “I never suggested we leave Four! I ju– I just don’t know if this mission is a good idea is all?”

One sighed, squaring his shoulders before smoothing his hands down his turquoise scrubs. “Eight, if you had one shot, or one opportunity. To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would capture it? Or just let it slip?”

You stare at One, blinking slowly as silence fills the room. “Is – Was that Eminem?” You stammer, shaking your head gently, as if to clear the fog which had settled there. Surely you were mistaken, One couldn’t be quoting Lose yourself, right?....

“Does it make it any better or worse knowing this isn’t the first time he’s used that as a motivational speech?” Seven grins, winking at you impishly.

“I think what makes it worse is knowing that no matter what reaction he got last time, he still decided to try it again!”

“Touché, and dude, get yourself a better speech already!” Seven smirks, patting One on the shoulder as he walks by and towards the kitchen. His uniform shirt half buttoned as he goes.

“Why does everyone know that song straight away?” One groans, looking genuinely confused.

“Because it’s the bloody 2020’s! And not to hate on Slim or anything, but for the love of god, replace your ipod shuffle, and listen to some new music. Please!” You plead, as the startling thought of One thinking lose yourself was a new song creeped its way into your mind, causing you to shudder.

Five steps out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her. Looking like the absolute goddess she is, with her hair wrapped in a fluffy towel, and a robe concealing her, she fixes you with a strong look. “Eight. You are ready for this. Upon our first mission, we were all terrified. But we pulled through, one way or another we did what needed to be done, and look where we are now. I know what you’re feeling, we all do. We’ve all been there, trust me. But the only way this will work, the only way we will be able to get to the Lushnick’s, is if we stick together and work this mission just as we’ve planned. That means all of us. We can’t be a member short, not this time.” Without waiting for your response, Five walks away, closing a bedroom door behind her.

You have no response, no witty retort. Nothing. Not that it would matter, Five wasn’t there to hear it anyway. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn back to One, who still looked somewhat put out by your ipod comment. “Has anyone seen my uniform?”

*****  

Just after 11am, Billy made his way to the hospital and into the Emergency department, cradling his head between his palms, and groaning in mock agony. His earpiece was safely tucked in his ear, providing him contact with his team. Contact which he had been severely missing these past few weeks. At first it had been bearable, what with your secret texts on your burner phone. But when One had arrived at the safe house, it had been harder to sneak messages, until finally they had ceased all together. But hearing your voice now, ringing through his ears, he felt like he was home. Despite walking into a hospital.

“Genevieve Lushnick is on the move. Last seen leaving Ward 11A.” You advise everyone.

“She finished her rounds in Paediatrics much earlier, not sure where she’s headed now.” Five recalls, the sounds of crying infants in the background of her voice.

“Usually her roster would have her checking on Geriatrics in Ward 7B next. But She’s already been there. That was her second visit of the day.” Seven advises, though he sounds confused. To be fair, so does everyone else. Genevieve was changing up her routine, something she hadn’t done at all during their surveillance of her. So why now?

“Hold on, let me see if I can track her down through the live camera feeds.” You suggest, the sounds of your fingers flying across a keyboard breaking the silence which followed.

Billy’s concentration on the conversation happening in his ear is cut off by a woman dressed in white sat at the Emergency reception desk. A nurse from the looks of her. “Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” She blinks wide amber eyes up at Billy, who stares back confusedly.

“Uh, En-English?” A part of him wants to chastise himself for not learning French for this mission. But knowing he was playing the part of a tourist he allowed himself some leeway in the preparation department.

The nurse smiles further, though the more teeth she shows the more forced it looks. “Of course. How may I help you today sir?”

“I just flew in a few days ago, and I have an awful headache. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. All lights are too bright, I feel weak, my head is pounding, and I feel nauseas.”

“Has this just begun, or is this an ongoing issue?”

“No, it just started this morning. I took a couple of paracetamol to help when I woke up, but they’ve done nothing.”

The nurse nods her head, looking down at her computer, as Billy adds in a groan for effect. Just as the nurse asks for personal details, One appears from the behind the desk. “Goodness, what’s wrong with this man? He looks like death on two legs!”

Billy repeats what he had just told the nurse, with One nodding along, and playing every part the good doctor. “You need to be seated immediately. Someone, bring me a wheelchair!” One calls in the direction of the wardsmen who are stood around the waiting room. “Jennifer, you need to be more familiar with signs of a migraine. This young man, what was your name sir?”

“James.” Billy moans, falling back into the wheelchair once it appears behind him, laying his head back for added effect.

“Yes, James could have collapsed at any moment. Please be more mindful next time.” One warns, a harsh glare in his eyes directed at the young nurse.

“O-of course Doctor Cleavers. It won’t happen again.”

Billy can barley contain his smirk at the sound of One’s alias, covering his attempted chuckle with a well-timed groan.

“Does anyone have eyes on Gregory?” Two whispers harshly into her earpiece, causing Billy to flinch slightly, just as one does the same. Christ, Two needs to keep her tone down!

It’s Three’s turn to respond first now, who sounds quite proud of himself as he speaks. “He’s up in theatres, doing God knows what to God knows who.” The sound of a trolley filled with rattling dishes being pushed, barely making his mumbled voice audible.

One moves around behind Billy, kicking up the brake on the wheelchair, and pushing him towards the swipe pass activated doors, leading to the Emergency treatment area. The deafening silence flowing through both his and Billy’s earpieces cause the two men to glance at each other nervously.

“How long ago did you see Gregory heading to theatres?” You ask, an edge of worry hinting at your tone.

Yet another long pause, until. “During breakfast rounds… I suppose two hours ago, maybe?” Three no longer sounds sure of himself, which sets in a sinking feeling in all those on the team.

“He was scheduled to finish surgery one hour ago. Has anyone seen him this past hour?” You snap back, perhaps more of a bite in your words than you had intended.

“Negative.” Replies One in a quiet voice, while smiling at fellow doctors as he pushed Billy.

“No.” That was Two.

“Nope.” Five now, who had been awfully quiet so far.

“Neither.” Three mumbles, likely feeling as dejected as he sounded.

“Well you know I haven’t.” Billy smirks. It was a risk him speaking to the group like this, but currently with his head tilted back, and staring up at the ceiling as he was being wheeled down a corridor, no one really paid any attention to him.

“I’ve only seen Genevieve. The two haven’t been together all morning sorry.” Seven whispers.

“Fuck me…” You breathe out, slamming your fists down on the desk. “I can’t see either of them on the live feeds!”

Carefully, Billy lifts his head once again, turning over his shoulder to peer up at One, who was frowning and staring dead ahead.  “Is there a problem Doctor Cleavers?” He mumbles, keeping the act up for anyone who may pass.

“There very well may be.” One mutters, only glancing down at Billy for a brief moment.

The two continue down the corridor for another few minutes, the bright clinical lights beginning to bring on a genuine headache for Billy now. Finally, they come to a stop in a large treatment room, multiple beds lining the walls, all encircled by blue curtains. Some had been drawn for patient’s privacy, while others remained opened. In the centre of the room was a large desk where Nurses and Doctors hurried to and from, collecting and depositing various prescriptions and clinical orders. “James, are you able to stand to bring yourself over to the bed?” One asks, raising his voice enough to somewhat put on a show for those nearby.

The temptation to ask One to pick him up is almost too great to pass up, but knowing that somehow it would come back to haunt him, Billy opts for standing himself. “I think I can manage, thank you Doc.” Standing slowly, Billy pivots on the spot, and shuffles over to the bed, hoisting himself up and laying back.

“We’ll need to bring your fluids up, I’m worried about you becoming dehydrated. We’ll need to cannulate you. Have you ever had a cannula before?”  One asks, waving for a nurse to come and assist him.

“No, I don’t think I have.”  

“Not to worry, it’s relatively quick and painless.”

The nurse hurries over, and listens as One fires orders at him, orders which he had picked up from watching medical shows, mostly scrubs…. “We need James on a drip ASAP, get that started now!”

“Right away Doctor Cleavers.” The nurse agrees, before moving off to grab the necessary equipment.

Billy turns his attention to One, raising his eyebrows in concern. “Are you seriously going to stick a needle in me?” He hisses, emerald eyes flashing in fear.

One shrugs lightly, turning away from Billy to keep an eye out for the nurse. “Well, I’m not going to be injecting you. Can’t say the same for the nurse though.”

Billy wants to scream, at no stage during the briefings had there been any mention of him having a needle jabbed into him! Hell, if there had been any discussions of such a thing, he likely would’ve backed out! Perhaps that was why there was no mention? The nurse reappears, and preps his work station, all the while One, or Doctor Cleavers stays around to supervise the proceedings, occasionally chiming in with his theories as to what the cause for his sudden pain could be.

“Four! One! They’re coming!” Your voice breaks through the stinging sensation of the needle, panic flying through Billy’s veins. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for-” Your voice is broken by puffing breaths, and the sound of your feet pounding on the tiles as you sprint from somewhere else in the hospital.

“Emergency.” Billy finishes, as the two people who he had been staring at photographs of for months now, strut into the treatment room, patients and doctors alike parting like the red sea as the couple head towards Billy and One. Four sets of eyes meet, and no member of either team is willing to break concentration.

“We’ve been expecting you.” Genevieve grins, her canine teeth almost too pointed, like fangs brushing against her ruby painted lips.

“Thank you, Eric, you’ve done a wonderful job here.” Gregory turns to the nurse and nods his head, the nurse returning the gesture and leaving the group.

“Eight for Four, come in Four!” Your voice shouts in his ear, causing Billy to flinch away.

“Ah, that must be the rest of your team I take it? Not to worry, we have our people taking care of them as we speak.” Genevieve shrugs, before turning to One. “Seeing as you’re so good at playing Doctor, you’ll be pushing your friend. He won’t be awake much longer. I would hate for him to collapse.”

At these words, Billy shoots up on the bed, his head spinning as he does so. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Genevieve waves him off, her nails painted the same shimmering ruby as her lips. “Surely you don’t expect me to give away our secrets? That’s not how people like us work.”

One steps behind Billy’s bed, and begins driving it forwards, following behind the Lushnick’s with a scowl. Billy could see the wheels in his mind turning, as he tried to formulate a plan of escape, though from every way he looked at it, they were pretty well fucked. He could feel his body growing tired, and his mind becoming clouded and dazed, whatever they had given him, it was taking over his body quickly, and any minute now he would be useless to the team.

*****

Fuck! The entire team had lost the Lushnick’s! How did that even happen? Seven was supposed to be trailing them, he had been doing so every other day perfectly, but what the fuck had gone wrong today? Your fingers fly across the keyboard, frantically switching between all the cameras in the hospital. Some provided a live feed, while others only offered playback, but at this point in time you would take what you could get. Window after window pops open on your monitor, squinting at the slightly pixelated images to try and identify who was being filmed.

“There!” You practically scream, causing one of the guards walking past your office to jump, turning a concerned look your way. “Sorry, just uh – finally got a fly that’s been harassing me all morning.” You blurt out, though with a shrug, the guard walks on, either having bought the lie or not caring enough to question it further. You gaze back at the image on your screen, it was from one of the playback cameras. Both Gregory and Genevieve were spotted seven minutes ago in one of the staff only corridors, leading between the imaging department and emergency. “Seven minutes…. How long does it take to get there?”

“Three! Come in Three!”

“Bloody hell, no need to yell Eight. What is it?”

“On your delivery route, how long does it usually take to get between X-ray and Emergency?”

Three pauses to think, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he does so. “Roughly twenty minutes.”

“We’re fucked.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

You ignore the frantic questions streaming from Three, the others shortly joining in with their own confusion. But you didn’t have time to address their concerns, right now there was only one thing on your mind. Beating the Lushnick’s to the Emergency room. With your heart hammering in your chest, and breathing coming out in desperate gasps you turn back to your computer, snaking your way into the hospital power grid.

You know how to do this, it’s just like what you did for your museum heist way back when you had met One. But for some reason, your brain can’t seem to summon the image of what you need to do. You could try a keyboard smash now that you’re in the controls, but that could seriously damage literally everything… “Come on, just think dammit.” You snarl at yourself, clasping your hands into fists, and pressing them against your temples.

Eyes springing open, you fix a harsh glare at the blinking screen before you, asking for a password. “Y’all Lushnick’s are fucked.” The password it simple to guess, trust the Lushnick’s to use their fucking last name as a password. They may be smart in what they do, but they sure as hell know nothing about internet security. The screen turns black, with a 3D model of the hospital slowly building itself on your screen. With each scroll of your mouse, the model shifts, and enlarges to a new section of the hospital.  A blinking blue bar in the top left of the screen offers a text space, and going on a hunch, you type in ‘Geriatrics’ and press enter. The model disintegrates into tiny pixels, before rebuilding just the section you had searched. “Brilliant…” You whisper to yourself.

The geriatrics ward of the hospital consisted of one main power source, with a backup which would boot up and provide energy to the most necessary equipment and lights in the event of the main grid failing. “Five for Eight, come in?”

“Eight here, what’s going on?”

“I’m being followed. There’s security blocking off just about every exit on this floor, and no matter where I go, there’s someone behind me, or waiting for me.”

“Has anyone else got this issue?” You call out, eagerly awaiting replies. There’s a resounding yes in response, with the only discrepancy coming from Seven.

“A couple of guards caught up to me in 11B, they’ve brought me along to help catch the infiltrators.”

“So they don’t know you’re a part of this?”

“Seems like it. And from what I gather, they aren’t onto you either…”

“Perfect, Seven stay with your team. There’s about to be a Code Blue in geriatrics. I’ll put the call through to all security to get to the ward, that should give the rest of you time to escape. Rendezvous in Staff corridor D.”

You don’t wait to hear the replies from your team, once again your body working quicker than your mind. Your hands already working on shutting down the power to the Geriatrics ward. You should feel worse than you do, you were putting innocent people’s lives at risk. But the one thing which had been drilled into you from the begging was, the team comes first wherever possible. It was Seven who insisted on this. But who were you to argue with him?

Your eyes are glued to your screen as you watch a warning light appear over the 3D model you had been working with. ‘WARNING! Main power grid will be turned off. WARNING!’ It was rather polite of the system to warn you of the damage you were about to inflict, however the flashing red image did little to stop you. With one final mouse click, a new pop up appeared on your screen. This one somehow even more urgent, despite no red flashing lights. ‘WARNING! Main power grid for geriatrics has now been turned off. Back up system now operating.’ An alarm was blaring throughout your office, warning you and all security who remained nearby of a system failure. “All units. Repeat, all units to Geriatric ward immediately. Power failure. All units report.” You instruct through the P/A system.” Instantly, you watch as two security guards’ race past your office, down the hall and towards the stairwell.

“Five, have they gone? Can you get out?” You ask carefully, keeping your voice low in case of any security stragglers.

“Yeah, they’ve all gone now. Jesus Eight, what kind of a system failure did you make?” You can hear her laughing now, though you know the doctor side of her is genuinely concerned as to what chaos you had caused.

“Nothing that should cause any real harm, but it’s done the trick.” You smirk, locking your computer and stepping out of the office.

You knew the security alert wouldn’t deter the Lushnick’s, hell even if the building was on fire, you doubt they would stray from their current target. But if your calculations were correct, you still had at least five minutes to warn One and Four of their impending arrival. Your heavy combat boots pound against the tiles, sprinting your way towards corridor D, praying the others would already be there, or at least arriving soon. Pressing your index finger against your earpiece, your voice sounding frantic even to you. “Four! One! They’re coming!”. They had time, they had to have time….. But with no response from either, you try again. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for Emergency!”

Nothing, not a single word from Four or One. This wasn’t right, they were supposed to have time still, plenty of time to get out of Emergency and meet you and the team. But as you round the corner to Staff corridor D, there’s no One, and sure as hell no Billy. “Thank God you got here alright!” Five gasps, running over to you and wrapping her arms around you. You had never known her to be much of a hugger, but you suppose high stakes situations like this could change a person. Checking over her shoulder you spot Three, Seven, and Two all talking amongst themselves. “Where’re Four and One?” You ask timidly, stepping away from Five’s embrace slowly, and looking between her and the rest of the team.

No one seems inclined to answer you, which only serves to send a deep chill down your spine, and for a solid mass to feel as if it had been lodged in your throat. Pressing on your earpiece again, you try calling for the two again. “Eight for Four and One, come in both of you.”

There’s again no reply, and your heart feels like it’s being strangled. “I heard some of the guards talking. There was talk of a couple of intruders being found…” Seven begins, his dark eyes meeting yours, with a look which could only be described as true sympathy.

Sharp, electric static echoes through your teams ears, all earpieces but yours going haywire for five seconds, before silence once more. “What the fuck was that?” Three snarls, ripping the piece out and glaring at it between his large fingers.

An all too familiar voice speaks slowly now in your ear, but as you look around you realise this voice was only speaking to you. No one else could hear her. “Well, who do we have here. You’re not the Doctor, I would recognise her voice anywhere. And you’re obviously not the French one, unless you’ve managed to disguise your accent, which I truly doubt. So who are you…”

“I’m not playing any of your sick little games Genevieve. Where is the rest of my team?” You hiss, causing the others to look up and over to you.

“Eight? What’s going on?” Two asks carefully, stepping towards you slowly.

“Who are you talking to? Three asks, lifting his brows up.

“Ah, see. There’s the French one! I knew you had to be someone else! Eight was it? Oh how interesting. So what, did another one of your team die? Is that why you’re here?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m not someone’s replacement.”

“Oh aren’t you? Well that just makes this even more special then doesn’t it? Tell me, which one of these charming young men is Four who you seem so concerned about? Is it this ruggishly handsome tall fellow who keeps glaring at me? Or is it the pretty blonde, with the gorgeous green eyes, who’s having a hard time staying awake right now?” It’s an involuntary reaction, but at the mention of Four, your breath catches in your throat, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. “Ah, the blonde it is..”

“What have you done to him? What can’t he stay awake?”

“My my, so many questions! If you didn’t want anything to happen to him, then maybe you shouldn’t have used him a bait silly little girl!”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I suppose I could tell you, it would be rather enjoyable to see the look on your face as we operate on him, while there’s nothing you can do about it…”

You don’t wait to hear anymore, ripping the earpiece out and throwing it as far down the corridor as possible. “Theatres. The Lushnick’s have Four and One. They’re about to do something to Four.” You gasp out, barely able to catch your breath, as tears prick the backs of your eyes.

“Shhh, Eight it’s going to be fine, I promise.” Five offers, soothing her palm down your back gently.

“Don’t you dare make empty promises.” You growl, shaking her off and racing down the hall, towards the stairwell.

*****  

“What have you given him?” One growls, glaring between both the Lushnick’s and Four who lay on an operating table, barely moving and occasionally groaning. He rattled his arm against the handcuffs which kept him bound to a side railing. He was completely useless, both to himself and to his teammate.

Genevieve turned to him now, regarding him with a cold stare. “I hardly see why that matters now? You can’t do anything to help him, especially not in your current predicament.” She chuckles darkly, before turning her attention back to Gregory. The man barely spoke a word, but the sick sadistic smile which had been growing across his lips these past few minutes, was enough for One to get a better sense of his character.

“At least tell me what you’re going to do to him!” One tries again. He was running out of questions, and by the looks of things, time too. He had hoped he would be able to keep the Lushnick’s occupied long enough for you and the rest of the team to get here, but ever since Genevieve finished her conversation with you, she seemed all the more eager to get this started.

“Well that’s the fun part. Greg doesn’t know yet! Here’s how this works. Greg cuts the patient open, has a bit of a poke and prod around. Takes out what he wants, and then stitches ‘em back up! You never know what will be taken!” Genevieve grins, pressing a red kiss to Gregory’s cheek, who only grins broader.

One has to fight back to urge to both vomit, and throw punches, instead opting to glare at the duo. “You’re both sick, and you’re going to rot in hell once we’re through with you!”

Genevieve waves him off, turning her attention to Four, who was more unconscious than conscious now. Though he occasionally made a slight jolt, or mumbled a quiet sentence. “Should we wait until he is a bit more under before beginning the procedure?”

Gregory turned to her, lifting a brow in curiosity. “And risk the others getting here, before it’s too late for them to rescue him?”

Just as his words die off, a loud crash against the operating theatre door causes both Doctor’s to glance towards the sound. The crash was quickly followed by another, before a gunshot can be heard echoing throughout the circular room, the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground following. “Greg…..” Genevieve whispers, turning to the Doctor, as the double doors slam open. The metallic hingers screeching under the sudden movement.

“Where the fuck is my boyfriend?” You scream, pistol raised, and aimed directly at Genevieve Lushnick.  Seven and Three stand beside you, each holding a gun of their own, with Three aimed at the nurses in the theatre, and Seven poised to fire upon Gregory. Two and Five stand either side of them, aiming at the guards behind them who were writhing on the ground, though they both remained vigilant for any further arrivals.

Gregory lifts a scalpel and hovers it directly above Four’s abdomen, poised and ready to cut. “Ah, you must be Eight.” Genevieve grins, taking a careful step towards you, as Gregory lowers the scalpel closer to Four’s bare skin.

Seven aims at the wall just above where Gregory stands, the bullet ripping a hole in the sterile room, causing Gregory to jump back almost an entire foot. “Don’t even think about trying that again.” Seven hisses, fixing the Doctor with a glare.

“Now now, there will be no need for violence.” Genevieve begins, before taking a look at the guards who were slowly bleeding out in the entry way. “At least, no more violence that is.” She steps forwards again, fixing you with an interested eye. “My goodness you look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I’m positive I would recall meeting someone as wicked and vile as you.” You spit, keeping your pistol trained on your target, your eyes following her every step.

“Hm, yes I suppose so.” You were now engaged in an odd type of dance, Genevieve was slowly circling around you, and you followed her every move, moving in a circle on the spot. “This is where the negotiations begin, I imagine.”

“There will be no negotiations. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we take you to the authorities who will make sure you both rot in a prison cell for the rest of your sorry lives.”

Genevieve shakes her head no, still walking in her slow circle around you. From an outside perspective, it was that of a lion circling its prey, though to your perspective, you had the upper hand. Or at least, you had the weapon. “No, you see that doesn’t work for us.”

“Fine. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we kill you both right here, right now.”

Genevieve shakes her head again, looking over to Gregory who was clutching the scalpel for dear life. “Eight, something’s wrong…” One calls, looking over to Four. The young man was beginning to convulse on the operating table. His skin was flushed in tiny pinprick sized red dots, and his chest was rising and falling in rapid laboured breaths.

You chance a glance over to Four, and your heart stops. Something was horrendously wrong. “Five, go check on him!” You screech, turning your full attention back on Genevieve as Five races past you. In a split second, you pocket your gun in the back of your jeans, and lurch forwards, fists griping into the collar of Genevieve’s shirt. You hold the fabric with such ferocity the seams popping in her shirt is almost audible, but your blood is pumping too loudly in your ears for you to hear. “Tell me what you gave him!” You’re practically screaming now, directly in her face, yet Genevieve doesn’t seem phased at all. She was used to outbursts such as this, granted they were typically from a grieving mother or father, and not someone threatening her life, but none the less, it felt like just another day in the office.

“Not until we strike a deal!”

There’s only one thing running through your mind as your eyes lock onto Genevieve’s, the training fight you had had with Three all those months ago. Only this time, there was no one fighting back, you had the power. Your leg steps behind Genevieve’s left, and you sweep out with your entire weight, releasing her collar just as her knees gives way and buckle beneath her weight, and she crumbles to the ground bellow you, her back smacking the hard tiled floor with a crack. Instantly, you’re on top of her, kneeling down against her stomach and pinning her to the ground.

“You bitch!” She shrieks, coughing as she attempts to regain the breath you had knocked out of her, though with almost your entire weight leaning into her now, it was unlikely she would.

“I’m terribly sorry. I guess I lost my footing.” You smirk, pressing your knee harder against her. Causing Genevieve to cry out in pain.

Gregory races forwards, his scalpel dropping to the ground in his haste. “Get off of her!” He calls, wrapping her palms over your shoulders and attempting to tear you away.

Three steps in, shoulder barging him in the stomach and sending the Doctor crashing to the ground beside his wife.

“Guys! I think Four’s having a severe allergic reaction to whatever concoction he was pumped full of!” Five yells, a stethoscope looped around her neck, as her frantic eyes meet yours. “Is he allergic to anything you know of?”

You stare back at Five, your mind going completely blank, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Surely Four would’ve told you if he had any allergies, right? And perhaps he had done just that, but standing here now, with all hope resting on your shoulders, you couldn’t think of a single thing which may be useful in this situation. Shaking your head, a growing sense of dread filling you, as the rest of the team remain silent. “I- I don’t know….”

“I can give him an Epipen, but I need to know what he’s either had, or what he’s allergic to so I can get him the proper antidote!”

Tearing your eyes away from Five, you look over to One, who not only felt but looked entirely useless, chained to a handrail on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes searching his for an answer. Your mission was to capture the Lushnick’s, and right now, that was exactly what you had done. But if you kept them as they were now, as prisoners, Four could die….. Was that a sacrifice you were willing to make?

All One could offer was a gentle half smile, shrugging his shoulders slightly in his compromising position. He couldn’t offer you an answer, hell you couldn’t even offer yourself an answer….

Carefully, you release some of the pressure from Genevieve’s stomach, just enough for her to look up at you in surprise, blinking wide eyes up at you. “Tell me what you gave him, and we’ll let you both go.” You mutter, fighting back the urge to swallow back your own words.

A wicked smirk unravels over Genevieve’s lips. The kind of smirk which one would associate with a wicked stepmother, or evil queen from a Disney film. “Deal.” You release more pressure from your hold on her, until she can breathe properly once more, and Three steps away from Gregory, giving the man a swift boot to the hip just to make his point. “We gave him a combination of penicillin, general anaesthetic, codeine…” Genevieve stands, as does Gregory, both stepping backwards towards the door. Your team moving out of their way upon looking at you for clarification. No one wanted to move, that much was obvious in the frantic looks the others were throwing your way. But at the same time, they all knew the price they would have to pay if they kept the Lushnick’s as they were now. A price no one was prepared for.

“There was some paracetamol mixed in too….” Genevieve continues. They were at the doorway now, hand in hand, gazing behind themselves to make sure the way was clear. “Hm, what else?”

“Gosh, I just can’t recall.” Gregory shrugs, an evil smirk crawling its way over his lips. His eyes glowing with malice. “I simply have no idea what ese they’re may have been!” He calls with enthusiasm, before both pivot on the spot, racing from the theatre.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” You shriek, your sight going red as you sprint after them down the corridor, pulling your gun out as you give chase. Genevieve looks at you over her shoulder as they reach the stairwell, regarding you with a look of familiarity.

“Eight! Eight, it’s not worth it!” Two yells from the doorway, watching you with a deep concern. She knew what you were capable of, your whole team did, but not the Lushnick’s. And from the looks of things, they didn’t care either. You stop halfway down the corridor, releasing the safety on your pistol and firing three shots at the door Gregory hand his hand pressed against. He jumps backwards in shock, glaring back at you, pure fury masking his features.

“Yes Eight, listen to your friend. She seems to be the brains of this group. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now would we?” Genevieve snarls, baring too many teeth to be considered even remotely friendly.

Aiming the pistol once more, you line up your sights, finger hovering over the trigger. One shot, that’s all it would take. A bullet to the middle of Genevieve’s forehead would kill her instantly, and Gregory would have no choice but to surrender. “Are you going to kill me? Shall I say hello to Kellie when I see her?”

You stare at Genevieve, her words ringing through your ears, and sending a jolt of shockwaves straight down your spine. In that moment of hesitation, the Lushnick’s push through the stairwell door, and flee.

You’re paralysed on the spot, staring after where the Lushnick’s had stood moments ago. They recognised you. They knew who you were and why you wanted revenge. But how? It had been years since you last saw them, you had been a child! Surely you looked different now from back then? But they knew you! They remembered Kellie… A gun shot rings down the corridor, the sound of metal clanging to the tiled floor following directly after.

“Eight! What happened?” One yells, now free of his handcuffs, and jogging down the corridor to meet you. You hadn’t moved. Still stood with your arms raised, and gun pointed to where Genevieve had stood.

“They – They knew me.” You gulp, putting the pistol away with shaking hands, and turning to look up at One. Tears were brimming in your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. At least not yet.

“What? But how?”

“I don’t know! That’s the fucking problem.” You hiss, storming away from One back towards the theatre. Once back, chaos surrounded Four, with everyone racing around him handing various different equipment and medications to Five, as she prepped some kind of antidote perhaps. “How’s he doing?”

Five looks up at you, regarding you with a careful mix of sympathy and hope. “The EpiPen gave him enough adrenaline to wake up again, though he’s extraordinarily groggy. Now I’m just tyring to figure out exactly what to give him to counteract the other shit that’s pumping through him.”

You nod your head in thanks, knowing you would find the time to thank Five properly once all of this was over. “What can I do to help?”

“We need to try and keep him awake, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness.” Three replies, as he passes Five a vile of clear liquid.

“Four? Can you hear me?” You ask carefully, stepping over to him and squeezing his hand tightly. His warm fingers curl around yours in reply, before falling limp against your palm.

“He’s out again! Wake him up!” Five yells to those in the room.

“Four, stay with us!” You plead, pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. To hell with anyone seeing the act of intimacy, if One wanted to give you shit for it, he could do so when you were all in the clear. Though checking the room, you can’t find One or Two for that matter, they must still be in the corridor where you had left them?

Slowly, Four blinked his eyes open, frantic emerald flickering around the room and searching for something, or someone. Just as his eyes landed on yours, they fell shut again, and his body spasmed once more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” It was Seven yelling this time, his voice booming above all other noises in the vast room.

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” You can hear the tears in your voice as you beg for him to open his eyes again, but they remain closed. Turning to look at Five, she looks frazzled. Her hair which had started in a neat, slicked back bun, was now hanging loose down her back, and was wild with frizz. She looks up at you, not quite in a glare, but with enough ferocity behind the look that you know better than to bother her anymore.

Leaning down, you card your fingers through Four’s blonde curls, brushing away a few stray locks which were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Barely more than a slit, his eyes open and stare directly up at you. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.”

Three looks over at you, his ears perking up at the use of his teammates real name. It was one thing to use names in privacy back home. But during a mission, however failed that mission may be, now that was new. Shaking his head, he spots One and Two heading over, but with grim looks on their faces. “What’s the plan?” Two asks, her eyes locking with Three’s.

“There isn’t one, not really. We just need to keep him awake.” Five sighs. “I think I know what to give him to help, but I want him awake when I administer it. If it works correctly then it should knock him out for a bit. If he’s already unconscious when I give it to him, then I won’t know if it’s doing more harm than good.”

One turns his attention over to you now, lifting one brow as you meet his gaze. “Any idea what will keep him awake?”

You pause, clutching Four’s hand tightly, and staring blankly at One. “Trivia. He loves random trivia facts!” You blurt out after a beat of pause. All eyes turn to you in surprise, no one quite knowing how to respond to this information. You shrug lightly, averting your gaze from One’s. “We play a lot of trivial pursuit back at base.”

Seven is the first to break the silence, though not to mock you as you had thought would be the case. Instead, he looks down at Four. “Hey mate, did you know high heels were originally invented for men. Imagine Three chasing down the Lushnick’s in stilettos.” He laughs, which causes Four to stir slightly, his eyes opening just a tad.

“Fuck, you’re right. That did work.” One blinks in surprise, running a hand through his short hair.

“Of course it did. I know Four, I know what works on him.” You mutter quietly.

Without looking up, Five smirks to herself. “You sure do kid.”

There’s no fighting the embarrassment which claws within you. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to be making suggestive comments… “Alright, keep ‘em coming guys!”

“Um okay…. Uh, Canada has more lakes than anywhere in the world.” Seven offers unsurely.

“Those greedy fucks….” Four moans, causing everyone to pause, before laughing quietly. Good, his sense of humour was still intact, that’s surely a good sign!

Two steps closer, and looks down at Four in deep concentration, before leaning back slightly. “David Bowie, he did not in fact have two different coloured eyes. One of his pupils was permanently dilated after he was punched in the eye during an argument over a girl.”

“Bugger me, really?” Five pipes up, both brows raised in surprise. “I always thought he had one blue and one brown eye.” She shrugs, priming a syringe carefully.

Slowly, Four was waking up. Granted he wasn’t exactly moving very much, but his eyes were opening, and he was grinning somewhat at the facts that were being thrown at him.

Staring down at Billy, something pops into your mind, a fact which you had learnt years ago at school but never shared with anyone else. “Okay, here’s one for you. Madonna’s like a prayer, is actually not about praying, it’s about giving someone a blowjob!”

Silence follows, and you swear you could hear crickets chirping. “Why the fuck is that something you know?” Four groans quietly, his eyes searching all over your face, before finally meeting your own.

“Shit, I don’t know… I also didn’t think that would be the fact that would wake you up the most! I was hoping someone else would say something after me!” You grumble through a grin.

“Nothing could possibly beat that fact.” Four chuckles weakly, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could muster.

Five turns around, holding a full syringe in her right hand, and a sterile swab in the other. “Glad you’re awake. What I’m about to give you however, is going to send you right back to sleep. Sorry about that. But I assure you, next time you wake up, you’re going to feel amazing.” She grins, ripping open the swab, and swiping it over the inside of his elbow.

For the second time that day, Four winces in pain as a needle plunges through his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut against both the sight of the injection, and the stinging pain. Whatever Five had given him was fast acting, and soon enough Four finds it nearly impossible to reopen his eyes now that he’s closed them.

“Move him into the wheelchair there, it’ll be easier than carrying him out of here.” You suggest, pointing to the blue cushioned wheelchair in the corner of the room.

One, Three and Seven all nod their agreement, and move around the operating table, getting into position to lift Four. “Count of three…. One, two, three.” Three instructs, as the men lift Four who simply groans in protest. You watch his limp body be carried across the room, your heart aching at the sight. ‘It could be worse… He’s just asleep.’ You repeat to yourself, once again fighting back the tears which had remained ever present at the corners of your eyes.

Three pushes the wheelchair as you all follow in a daze. Your mind felt as if it were a million miles away from the current situation. For the briefest of moments, you had genuinely considered murdering Genevieve. Never once had you thought yourself capable of doing such a thing. But yet, there you had been. Gun poised, and trigger finger rearing to go. If it hadn’t of been for her words, then she would be dead…

The escape route was an easy one, especially with security still trying to figure out what had gone wrong on the geriatrics ward still. Swiping the keys to an ambulance at the docking bay, you load Four inside the back with Five to monitor him. One drives, Three and Two sitting beside him up the front. While you and Seven sit quietly in the back. Occasionally your focus returns to Four, but mostly you stare out of the back windows, watching as traffic zips around you. You nearly killed someone today… What sort of a person were you becoming? And did you even like the person you were turning into?

Four Eighths taglist (If you would like to be added, please let me know!) @sj-thefan  @not-the-cleavers  @jinxfirebolt18902  @softnorris  @dear-vista  @mixer2b  @rintheemolion  @shane-isa-shame  @keithseabrook27  @tammykelly  @himarisolace​  @buckingpeterparker​  @cailin-lefantasy​  @riddikuluslysirius​  @vivalakatee​  @pxroxide-prinxcesss​

My Masterlist for all my other nonsense! 

[aworldoffandoms]

Runaway - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Suprises

Authors Note: This chapter might be a little filler-y as it was gonna be really long if I didn’t stop lol. Hope you like this chapter nonetheless. A special, special thanks to @am-i-invisible777 for your mood board/collage and @pixieferry for the awesome banner! You both did an amazing job! Thank you!! <3

Pairing: Liam x MC [Ariel]

Word Count: 2, 878 (+/-)

Rating: T 

Warnings: No warnings

Summary: The gang wonders what to do next in the wake of Liam’s anonymous delivery. Ariel reflects on the choices she has had to make while someone arrives at her workplace which shifts her world into dangerous territory.

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Pixelberry and all characters belong to them. The plot is all mine.

Tag list: @hopefulmoonobject @blackcoffee85 @blznbaby @super-secret-fandom-blog @am-i-invisible777 @lauradowning29 @khakie4 @captain-kingliamsqueen @moneyfordiamonds @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @ao719 @umccall71 @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @pixieferry @pixelpenny @jlouise88 @thequeenofcronuts

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged :)

Drake, Olivia, and Maxwell were seated in Liam's suite, faces open in shock as they pore over the contents of the anonymous delivery that Liam had received. All of them were just as perplexed as the king himself, his own face downcast to the floor, unwilling to even make eye contact as he tried to make sense of it himself.

Who could possibly know he was here? Were there people spying on him? Maybe he wasn't being as inconspicuous as he first thought?

“What are we going to do, Liam?” Drake says, his voice sounding far-away and muffled like he was underwater. The subsequent silence hinted of the king’s exhaustion.

After a long moment, they exchange a tense glance when they find his face devoid of all emotion, his eyes just as blank.

“At this point in time, Drake? No. I am half expecting this to be a complete ruse.”

At this time he was admittedly astonished he could feel anything at all. It was a complete miracle he had some semblance of a heart left. Ariel had all but destroyed it.

After all this leeway he was still a broken man, pining for his wife that he wasn't even certain would return to him.

Liam had gathered his entourage in his room as soon as he read the message. Bastien had appeared a few minutes after Liam had texted him and the others following shortly thereafter.

“Your Majesty…” Bastien starts, his posture and expression, for once, not that of his bodyguard, but that of a man who had seen his charge grow up into a respected and well-loved monarch, to a forlorn, man who had suffered through two years of a hellish nightmare.

“Yes, Bastien?”

Although Bastien’s posture was calmer and personal, his words still held respect and rectitude. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Liam gives a curt nod, waving at him in a casual gesture to continue.

“Over the course of your life I have seen you at your best but also your worst and over the past two years, the latter has been the most dominant. The cipher only gave us Moscow...it certainly didn’t give us anything else. Pardon my language, my king, but I’ll be damned if I see you spiral into yet another dark hole which I’m afraid you won’t recover from.”

Drake gives a long exhale as he sits down, levelling his gaze at Liam’s bodyguard.

“Bastien...aren't you worried that this is a trap?”

“In all my years of protecting King Father Constantine there was always the threat of correspondence being a trap, however, my gut is telling me that if we do not follow this lead we will be missing out on a chance to find the queen.”

Drake’s eye’s shift to his best friend, reading Liam’s expression and his heart clenches when he sees Liam flinch at the name of his wife. It amazed him how a few simple syllables could make the almost-always cool, indomitable King of Cordonia react as if he’d been punched in the stomach and shot in the chest all at once.

It’s quiet in the room, the last of Bastien’s words echoing in their ears until Olivia huffs, the sound of her fist connecting with the desk almost deafening in the thick silence.

“Enough of this nonsense! I’ve had to witness Liam become a shell of a man because of all this mess. He might not know what to do but I’ll be damned if I’m going to watch him slowly retreat into himself once more.”

Olivia pauses, taking a deep breath, shoulders heaving in exertion. Her face set in resolve, the corners of her lips lift up in a visceral smile.

“I will not sit idly by when the one clue we have been searching for three days appears right in front of us. This is our chance. You'll be a fool not to take it. I'll drag you there with my bare hands if it’s so inclined for me to do so.”

Liam glances up at Olivia, her slender form exhuming that fire he so admired about her. Her steely eyes pierce through him, almost as if she was trying to exchange some of that fire to him herself, to give him that push he needed.

For all intents and purposes, Olivia was right. This was solid evidence. Liam would only be an imbecile if he didn’t seize this opportunity. He would be quite an idiot if he didn’t take this information and grab onto it for dear life.

A few beats pass of stretched silence, the king’s fingers fiddling with his wedding band, his mind running a mile a minute.

The silence is almost too thick, the urge to fill the silence almost too unbearable. That is until Liam squares his shoulders, his posture settles into the regal, poised well-practiced disposition as if he was gearing himself up to enter into a room full of press and dignitaries.

Liam clears his throat as he stands, his expression set into a renewed vigor. The earlier despair nowhere to be seen. His eyes alight with the fire Olivia spurred in him moments before.

He glances around to all his friends, the numb ache his chest that was a common occurrence most days transitions into gratitude for each of them.

“I think you might be right, Olivia. Bastien.” Liam nods to each as he gives them each a smile of thanks.

Despite the verbal kick to the backside both rightly given by two of the people he trusted, Liam feels the fatigue settle in after the shock of the delivery and the resounding adrenaline stemming from that slowly ebbing away.

That too fades away as the clock chimes with its nightly reminder. “As much as I would love to go right now - it’s late. I believe we should all retire to bed and pick this up in the morning.”

It was a sore thing to admit, but the clear-mindedness a few hours of rest would grant everyone an advantage in the days ahead. They would need it.

He could not afford to lose focus now. He was so close. Years of training and trusting his instincts either with a tax reform put forth by the Royal Council told him that he was close. He had to believe that if nothing else.

Small, conciliary smiles slip onto his colleague’s faces as they slip silently out of the door, Bastien following behind and closing the door to leave Liam to his thoughts.

Once the door was securely shut, Liam’s face fell and he sighs heavily, slowly sinking to the bed, his hands moving up to his face to cover it as his shoulders sag in his growing exhaustion.

The burn behind his closed lids enlightening him into the ever-present pain that he hid from most public and private eyes. Had it always been there, or had it come just now? He suspected that it was the former. Perhaps he just didn’t notice it as much these days, so long he had gotten used to it.

Unable to bear it, Liam jumps up from his bed and begins pacing, his footsteps creating a soft thud against the carpet. Liam’s pulse races as he tries to make sense of the message that was delivered and the conclusion that was drawn. He could not fault his friends for pushing him to follow this. This lead could potentially change the course of how he proceeds with finding Ariel.

Liam rolls his shoulders, pushing his arms back and forth and cracking his neck, the tension in them almost too uncomfortable to bear. He rubs at the spots along his neck that are tight and as he closes his eyes, a smile lifts his lips as he imagines a much smaller pair of hands kneading the back of his neck, the lithe fingers easing the tension after a long day of meetings, diplomacy and trade deals.

If he envisioned hard enough, he could acutely feel her fingers on his skin, her soft lips on his neck as she kneads the knots away as Liam sighs in contentment, his chest warming with love for his wife.

Liam allows himself to stay in that vision for a few ticks of the clock until his exhaustion starts to overcome him and the smile of Ariel snaps away. Liam takes a deep breath as he settles into the bed, his eyes already heavy from the emotions swimming inside his gut.

Even with the sweet blackness of sleep dragging him under, Liam can only hope that the message he had gotten was the answer to all his questions.

He at least had to try.

And maybe . . . just maybe . . .

He’d be able to breathe easy once again.

***

Three days had passed and she hadn’t heard from Marguerite since she instructed the princess to hand off that message to Liam. The worry was starting to gnaw at her insides.  

Marguerite had been born into the world of crowns and charity derbies and the heavyweights of the monarchy. She’d all been bred for the role, punctuality and resiliency included. It was unusual for her to be this late with information.

Maybe this was just paranoia. That didn’t surprise her really. She’d been on the run for nearly three years, what’s a little paranoia to add to growing list of more bad karma to happen to her?

If she could be sure about anything, it was that the message was delivered. She had to. It was the only thing that was tethering her down at that point.

Liam might be doing this on his own but Ariel could breathe a sigh of relief to know that he had a bit of help.

It was the only thing she was capable of doing even when she was in hiding. The contacts she had made over the past few years served her well.

It still astounded her that most of the European royals were falling to the tricks of The Sons of Earth. They weren’t to blame. The Sons of Earth were the puppeteers, and they, the marionettes. How easily she and the others had danced into their trap, one by one. The ultimatum they sprung on her all those years ago sending a shiver down her spine at the memory.  

The amount of royals, though, was a surprising number. They had planted the root of their plan inside her crown, and from there, it had ensnared so many. Belgium, Monaco, Sweden - how many would mourn in front of television cameras and the harsh scrutinies of family expectations because of her?

Oh, the Sons were clever, she had to admit. She had been so naive, believing in the goodness of people to ensnare them in their own deviations. How wrong she had been, and now she was paying the price. It was little comfort knowing her fellow royals were undergoing the same thing. No, it was a tinge of guilt.

An all too familiar flare of anger closed its fingers on her chest, and Ariel bit down on her cheek, keeping quiet lest she shout in anger.

Anton Severus…

How dare he return.

Anton hadn’t wasted any time in making sure that he had power over Ariel. Liam was her weakness. Her only weakness and Anton carelessly toying with both their lives too many times.

All the lives balanced so precariously in her hands was too much. And the Sons had known it, shaking her so much her knees gave out from under her and she cried herself to sleep countless nights.

“After everything . . . and I’m still here,” she muses, dejected, shoulders slumping.

After conquering Anton at her wedding...she and Liam could finally relax. They felt free. Free to live, laugh and love.

Liam’s reign was no longer chained by these threats. They were free from further plots against them.

Ariel scoffs, shaking her head in bitter resignation.

Who was she to think that she was finally rid of that complete asshat?

The time that she had with Liam felt like a distant memory and something that was slowly slipping out of her grasp like sand on a hot summer's day. The time without him was breaking her, if not already. It would be easy to leave, max out her credit card to reserve a ticket on the library computer, then jet away. That little slip of paper would be her salvation and her downfall.

She had a purpose. She had a duty.

If she took flight, her feathers would only fall on the other royals. Whose lives would be at risk now? Marguerite? That prince of Belgium who disappeared just a bit ago? Another royal with no idea of his or her fate?

Anton Severus knew how to play her. How to play all of them. Either disappear or let the lives of all royals to fall into the hands of the Sons of Earth and let the monarchies of Europe falter and crumble. The worst part? Essentially giving Anton Severus the control to do as he pleases without any remorse for the consequences. Trying to kill Liam and herself was simply not enough in his case, apparently. For everyone's sake, Ariel chose the former.

That was the exact reason why Liam was in danger. Anton had close eyes on him and if Anton caught a whiff of what Liam was doing Anton had the means to make sure Liam would stop.  Ariel had faith that he’d be doing the investigating discreetly. Ariel knew her husband enough that she knew he’d be doing everything in his power to find her. If the roles were reversed -- she would not stop until her last breath.

Ariel exhales heavily as she leans back against the couch, pulling the soft fleece blanket over her as the chilly apartment bites into her skin. The low drones of the television distract her from the impending realisation that no matter what she did...those she loved would be in danger and she could not do a thing to stop it.

The last remnants of sound eased in and out of the tiny room as her eyes closed.

“Officials report no further leads on the disappearance of European royals . . . here to speak on the matter, is geopolitical expert, Thomas Marin. Thomas, tell us . . .”

***

“Order up!”

It had been four hours already, delivering orders, pouring beer and spirits to those who asked, their eyes glazed over in an alcohol haze she saw on a daily basis.

When did her life become this mundane, never-ending cycle?

Her heart aches at the longing she feels for the diplomatic meetings, international and national trade deals and economic summits she accompanied with Liam. She would give anything for her to be in one of those now. Who would have thought she’d take those meetings for granted?

She chuckles at the irony. “Figures. Such a twist of fate that is.”

More duties come as Ariel takes a plastic bussing bucket and begins to empty the tables of the half-eaten food, her mind drifting to the rolling hills and calm blue waters of Cordonia and the deep running valleys of her duchy. She wondered how Valtoria was doing without her.

Ariel's stomach twists in regret because she left a duchy, her duchy without anyone to guide them. She had failed them all. Even more tragic, she had failed Cordonia.

“Honey, you’ve got two at table twelve,” Tania yelled over the din of a cracking plate, and the drunken slurs of a young man nearby. Hurriedly brushing a tiny bead of sweat from her brow, Ariel whisked over to the table, sidestepping a grease stain that the busboy had failed to clean. She’d have a word with him later.

“Hi! Welcome to the Mountain Tavern, what can I get you guys?”

A deep chuckle resounds in her ears and she glances up. The smile she has on slips from her face, the breath in her lungs jarring to a stop as the blood in her veins runs cold when she recognises the face.

Her eyes dart to the unfamiliar brunette beside him as panic rises to her chest, the overwhelming urge to run pounding through her whole being.

This is bad. This is so bad.

The next words out of Ariel's mouth are choked, short, all of them stringing into an incoherent sentence. “What--I don't--How--Where--?”

The man with the familiar face stares her down. His eyes are kind yet had a hint of suppressed anger.

“Well, this a shock. What are you doing here, Your Majesty?” he says, the smirk on his face evident. That mischievousness she so delighted in seeing appearing even in this tense atmosphere.

The brunette beside him gives her companion a quizzical look. Her face blanks and then flashes in recognition as she meets Ariel’s blue eyes. The stunning brunette gasps.

“Oh my gosh. This isn't--?”

Leo nods, his blue eyes piercing through Ariel like he could see through to her soul where all her secrets lie. She flinches as her stomach rolls violently. Her skin prickles in the telltale sign of a fainting spell, herself already feeling lightheaded.

“The one and only. My brother’s wife and the missing Queen of Cordonia.”

[restatebrk24219]

10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

Update: I wrote this article in 2015, but I thought with the new year right behind me that I should update it with all the learning I’ve received on the subject of post-mortems. I realized, in retrospect, that I left one key tip out that I make sure to include in all my post-mortems. So, what’s better than 10 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem? I present the much new and improved 11 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem. (Spoiler: #5 is new.)

I love meetings. Actually, let me clarify. I like creative, strategy-focused meetings like a brainstorm or its emo cousin, the Post-Mortem.

What is a post-mortem? To some, it’s an examination of a corpse in order to determine the correct cause of death. To other more well-adjusted individuals (no offense Dana Scully), it’s a discussion (usually at the end of the project) to identify and analyze elements of a project that were successful or unsuccessful. It answers the question, “How’d we do?”

Many people find the name “post-mortem” too macabre. They’d rather call it a “retrospective,” which I find boring and lacking imagination. Even if a project was a ridiculously successful delight from start to finish, the post-mortem marks the end of a job (or phase) and your team is probably happy to have it behind them. If I had my way, I’d call it the “[insert project name] Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza!!” Now don’t tell me you wouldn’t rather go to that than the “[insert project name] Retrospective.”

Not Just For Single Projects

Many people assume that post-mortems are only for one-off projects. Although they’re extremely important for projects with a clearly defined start and end date – think apps, web sites, infographics, etc. – they’re just as useful for ongoing marketing efforts. Post-mortems can keep the big picture in perspective with monthly, quarterly, or annual reviews. Obviously, having one every month is time-consuming, but a few hours every quarter is time well spent.

Not Just For Agencies

Post-mortems aren’t just for agencies trying to retain clients or win new business. They are every bit as useful on the brand side. Marketing Directors can equally benefit by holding post-mortems after finishing any campaign or project. To note, in a perfect world, the post-mortem can involve the client team and the agency team together. Remember, it’s “How’d we do?”

So, now that you’ve been convinced of the awesomeness of the post-mortem and have probably already scheduled one, here are my 10 tips for getting the most out of your post-mortem:

(Note: For the purpose of these tips, I’ll refer to them in the context of a single campaign with a goal of completion rather than an ongoing project.)

1. Have a post-mortem for every project, no matter how small or how big, no matter what the outcome.

Even if a project is small, there are always things that pop up which will help you learn for larger projects. For example, let’s say that the project was delayed because of communication issues. This could lead to a delay of a few days for a small project. But in a massive project, this could delay you by months and more importantly, increase the cost by two-fold. Always a fun conversation with the CFO.

Importantly, post-mortems should be held no matter how well a project went. Some tend to think that a post-mortem is all about what went wrong. Again, I prefer to think of it as “how’d we do and why?” I’ve never worked on a project that went perfectly. Likewise, I’ve never worked on a project that was a complete disaster. There is always something of value to learn.

“The minute that you’re not learning I believe you’re dead.” Jack Nicholson

2. Schedule the post-mortem directly after the project concludes.

If you’re like me, project details evaporate from memory when the big push is finished. If a project goes well we lose sight of problems in light of a job well done. If a project goes poorly we lose sight of successes as we try to figure out what went wrong. Have your post-mortem while details are still fresh. Bonus points for scheduling them in advance.

“The palest ink is better than the best memory.” Chinese Proverb

3. Set a constructive mindset.

This is by far the most important tip on this list. A post-mortem is not about highlighting failures with the purpose of assigning blame. It’s not about reviewing employee performance. It’s about reviewing the work and the result for purposes of team and personal improvement. It needs to be constructive.

Therefore, it’s important that your team is in the right mindset: positive and learning-focused, not defensive or hypercritical. The best way to do this is to start off the conversation with something positive. Generally, the more powerful or proud they feel, the more effectively they can process constructive criticism.

As one of my team members always likes to say when things go wrong, “Well, nobody was killed, so…” Remind everyone that, no matter how embarrassing a gaffe, you can learn from it. Obviously, this doesn’t work if somebody did die, but no Portent project has killed anyone so far… so I’ve been told.

“I’m the kind of person who likes to create the environment and mindset – not because I do it deliberately, but because that’s how I like to live – where, from catering to makeup to hair to wardrobe, electricians, camera department lighting, sound, you know, it’s our movie; we’re together, and we have that camaraderie and that closeness.” Steve McQueen

4. Create an agenda.

Even a relaxed meeting needs an agenda. The last thing we want is a completely disorganized mess that leaves you an hour later with no idea of what you actually learned. Having an agenda will actually help with all of the tips I’ve spoken about so far.

Here’s a sample agenda for an effective post-mortem:

Set Tone / Explain Format (5 Min) – This is possibly the most critical, pivotal 5 minutes of the meeting. It’s where you remind the group that this post-mortem is all about constructive analysis. It’s your chance to guide the mindset of the group and hopefully get them to relax and feel safe enough for a truly productive session.

Recap The Project (2 Min) – That’s it. You’ll give a synopsis of what the project was about and what the initial expectations were. This will let you focus on the measurable goals so you can objectively evaluate whether the project was a success.

Recap The Outcome (3 Min) – Although there might be a difference of opinion on how everyone thought the process went, usually there’s a pretty straightforward idea on whether the goal was met. Was the client happy? (This could be a client in the literal sense, or it could be the CMO of your own company.) Did the cost exceed the budget? Was the product delivered on time?

Team Member Questions (40 Min) – This is the meat of the post-mortem. Where all this setup will pay dividends. It’s where the conversation really gets going and your team members get an opportunity to speak up. It helps to jump-start by asking one person a question and allow people to riff off each other. The important thing is that everyone gets a chance to contribute. Here are the questions that I like to ask:

Are you proud of our finished deliverables? If yes, what made them great? If no, what was wrong or missing?

Did we get the results we wanted and did it make impact?

Which of our methods or processes worked particularly well?

Which of our methods or processes were difficult or frustrating to use?

How would you do things differently next time to avoid this frustration?

What else could we do better next time?

What was the most gratifying or professionally satisfying part of the project?

Wrap-Up (10 Min) – This is where you thank everyone for participating and let them know that notes will be coming soon.

Admittedly, it can be really challenging to keep to this agenda on the fly, but the last thing you want to do is stop the conversation from flowing organically. Most times, the conversation will jump naturally from one question to the next. The important part is that you make sure each of the answers is a conversation and everyone is able to address them.

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin

5. Send out a questionnaire to all the participants prior to the meeting.

An agenda is extremely important, but it’ll be hard to stick to your timetable if the participants aren’t prepared themselves having thought about all the questions you plan to cover. If they haven’t already though through the questions, I guarantee you if you ask them what methods or processes worked well, you’ll get at least 10-20 seconds of blank stares.

This is productive for two reasons. First, you’ll more likely get better answers. It’s hard to come up with something on the spot that has substance. Secondly, when somebody finally feels like they have a good answer, nobody else will listen to them because they’re busy trying to think of a good answer themselves.

So, along with a simple agenda, make sure that you send all the participants a list of questions that they should think about prior to the meeting. It’s best if you give them plenty of time to get this done so it’s not a last minute dash right before the post-mortem.

“We must open the doors of opportunity. But we must also equip our people to walk through those doors.” Lyndon B. Johnson

6. Identify the moderator.

Along with an agenda, there must be one person responsible for moderating the meeting. This is generally the same person that set the agenda and scheduled the post-mortem. Having a moderator not only creates bumper rails for the conversation, but allows all the other team members the freedom to speak their mind without worrying excessively about the structure or process.

A good moderator will give the right amount of leeway for the conversation to tackle a tangent before reigning it back in.

The moderator should also be the one to take notes. I recommend using a white board. That allows team members to stay engaged, rather than frantically scribbling notes.

“Can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the things?” Homer Simpson

7. Keep it relaxed.

As I mentioned earlier, I love creative strategy meetings. They tend to be more relaxed and therefore more fun. Dreaded, high-tension post-mortems kill creativity and seal your team into their personal shells. That kind of meeting is as productive as a team-wide nap time.

You’re uncovering uncomfortable stuff much of the time. Deliberately promote a relaxed environment. If it’s early in the morning, bring coffee and donuts. If it’s later in the day, bring beer and well… donuts. Always bring donuts.

“A cheerful frame of mind, reinforced by relaxation… is the medicine that puts all ghosts of fear on the run.” George Matthew Adams

8. Encourage participation.

The goal of a post-mortem is a deep dive into the project and learning as a team. By surfacing the perspectives of everyone in the group – many of whom are often more in the weeds – they let us uncover issues at a micro-level that add up to a seriously macro impact. If only a few team members are speaking up, be sure and ask the others what thoughts they have. Sometimes it only takes a small amount of prodding before people feel comfortable talking.

“In teamwork, silence isn’t golden, it’s deadly.” Mark Sanborn

9. Leave the laptops behind.

Just like creative brainstorms, I prefer that post-mortems are screen-less affairs. Folks are encouraged to bring notes, but computers often provide more distraction than they’re worth. For those already a bit hesitant to share their thoughts, there’s nothing worse than opening up only to find that people aren’t paying attention. A post-mortem should create dialogue and bounce thoughts and ideas back and forth. There’s no room for a computer in this process – even for note taking. (I’ll explain why later.)

“The successful warrior is the average man, with laser focus.” Bruce Lee

10. Develop actionable takeaways.

Even the most productive post-mortem is no good unless there are clear, actionable takeaways. “Do better” is a noble takeaway indeed, but how do you act on that next time? You need specific to-dos the team can remember in the heat of the next project.

In our previous example, if communication was the problem, perhaps the actionable takeaway is to set more regular, in-person check-ins.

Actionable takeaways set clear expectations. The team can hold each other accountable for implementing them on the next project.

“An organization’s ability to learn, and translate that learning into action rapidly, is the ultimate competitive advantage.” Jack Welch

11. Share post-mortem takeaways.

Nothing groundbreaking here. The last important tip is to share the post-mortem takeaways with anybody who might benefit from your newly-found pearls of wisdom. This definitely includes your post-mortem attendees. But spend the time to identify others in your company who deal with the same challenges.

“Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.” His Holiness the Dalai Lama

While some of these tips are bit more rigid than others, the most important thing to remember is to keep the nature of the post-mortem light, yet still productive and impactful. If you succeed, you’ll watch your team take away immensely valuable insights that’ll make the next project even better.

Or if this is all just too much, just be sure and call it a Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza. And bring donuts.

The post 10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem appeared first on Portent.

http://bit.ly/2AJittR

[constructionsworkr3053]

10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

Update: I wrote this article in 2015, but I thought with the new year right behind me that I should update it with all the learning I’ve received on the subject of post-mortems. I realized, in retrospect, that I left one key tip out that I make sure to include in all my post-mortems. So, what’s better than 10 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem? I present the much new and improved 11 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem. (Spoiler: #5 is new.)

I love meetings. Actually, let me clarify. I like creative, strategy-focused meetings like a brainstorm or its emo cousin, the Post-Mortem.

What is a post-mortem? To some, it’s an examination of a corpse in order to determine the correct cause of death. To other more well-adjusted individuals (no offense Dana Scully), it’s a discussion (usually at the end of the project) to identify and analyze elements of a project that were successful or unsuccessful. It answers the question, “How’d we do?”

Many people find the name “post-mortem” too macabre. They’d rather call it a “retrospective,” which I find boring and lacking imagination. Even if a project was a ridiculously successful delight from start to finish, the post-mortem marks the end of a job (or phase) and your team is probably happy to have it behind them. If I had my way, I’d call it the “[insert project name] Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza!!” Now don’t tell me you wouldn’t rather go to that than the “[insert project name] Retrospective.”

Not Just For Single Projects

Many people assume that post-mortems are only for one-off projects. Although they’re extremely important for projects with a clearly defined start and end date – think apps, web sites, infographics, etc. – they’re just as useful for ongoing marketing efforts. Post-mortems can keep the big picture in perspective with monthly, quarterly, or annual reviews. Obviously, having one every month is time-consuming, but a few hours every quarter is time well spent.

Not Just For Agencies

Post-mortems aren’t just for agencies trying to retain clients or win new business. They are every bit as useful on the brand side. Marketing Directors can equally benefit by holding post-mortems after finishing any campaign or project. To note, in a perfect world, the post-mortem can involve the client team and the agency team together. Remember, it’s “How’d we do?”

So, now that you’ve been convinced of the awesomeness of the post-mortem and have probably already scheduled one, here are my 10 tips for getting the most out of your post-mortem:

(Note: For the purpose of these tips, I’ll refer to them in the context of a single campaign with a goal of completion rather than an ongoing project.)

1. Have a post-mortem for every project, no matter how small or how big, no matter what the outcome.

Even if a project is small, there are always things that pop up which will help you learn for larger projects. For example, let’s say that the project was delayed because of communication issues. This could lead to a delay of a few days for a small project. But in a massive project, this could delay you by months and more importantly, increase the cost by two-fold. Always a fun conversation with the CFO.

Importantly, post-mortems should be held no matter how well a project went. Some tend to think that a post-mortem is all about what went wrong. Again, I prefer to think of it as “how’d we do and why?” I’ve never worked on a project that went perfectly. Likewise, I’ve never worked on a project that was a complete disaster. There is always something of value to learn.

“The minute that you’re not learning I believe you’re dead.” Jack Nicholson

2. Schedule the post-mortem directly after the project concludes.

If you’re like me, project details evaporate from memory when the big push is finished. If a project goes well we lose sight of problems in light of a job well done. If a project goes poorly we lose sight of successes as we try to figure out what went wrong. Have your post-mortem while details are still fresh. Bonus points for scheduling them in advance.

“The palest ink is better than the best memory.” Chinese Proverb

3. Set a constructive mindset.

This is by far the most important tip on this list. A post-mortem is not about highlighting failures with the purpose of assigning blame. It’s not about reviewing employee performance. It’s about reviewing the work and the result for purposes of team and personal improvement. It needs to be constructive.

Therefore, it’s important that your team is in the right mindset: positive and learning-focused, not defensive or hypercritical. The best way to do this is to start off the conversation with something positive. Generally, the more powerful or proud they feel, the more effectively they can process constructive criticism.

As one of my team members always likes to say when things go wrong, “Well, nobody was killed, so…” Remind everyone that, no matter how embarrassing a gaffe, you can learn from it. Obviously, this doesn’t work if somebody did die, but no Portent project has killed anyone so far… so I’ve been told.

“I’m the kind of person who likes to create the environment and mindset – not because I do it deliberately, but because that’s how I like to live – where, from catering to makeup to hair to wardrobe, electricians, camera department lighting, sound, you know, it’s our movie; we’re together, and we have that camaraderie and that closeness.” Steve McQueen

4. Create an agenda.

Even a relaxed meeting needs an agenda. The last thing we want is a completely disorganized mess that leaves you an hour later with no idea of what you actually learned. Having an agenda will actually help with all of the tips I’ve spoken about so far.

Here’s a sample agenda for an effective post-mortem:

Set Tone / Explain Format (5 Min) – This is possibly the most critical, pivotal 5 minutes of the meeting. It’s where you remind the group that this post-mortem is all about constructive analysis. It’s your chance to guide the mindset of the group and hopefully get them to relax and feel safe enough for a truly productive session.

Recap The Project (2 Min) – That’s it. You’ll give a synopsis of what the project was about and what the initial expectations were. This will let you focus on the measurable goals so you can objectively evaluate whether the project was a success.

Recap The Outcome (3 Min) – Although there might be a difference of opinion on how everyone thought the process went, usually there’s a pretty straightforward idea on whether the goal was met. Was the client happy? (This could be a client in the literal sense, or it could be the CMO of your own company.) Did the cost exceed the budget? Was the product delivered on time?

Team Member Questions (40 Min) – This is the meat of the post-mortem. Where all this setup will pay dividends. It’s where the conversation really gets going and your team members get an opportunity to speak up. It helps to jump-start by asking one person a question and allow people to riff off each other. The important thing is that everyone gets a chance to contribute. Here are the questions that I like to ask:

Are you proud of our finished deliverables? If yes, what made them great? If no, what was wrong or missing?

Did we get the results we wanted and did it make impact?

Which of our methods or processes worked particularly well?

Which of our methods or processes were difficult or frustrating to use?

How would you do things differently next time to avoid this frustration?

What else could we do better next time?

What was the most gratifying or professionally satisfying part of the project?

Wrap-Up (10 Min) – This is where you thank everyone for participating and let them know that notes will be coming soon.

Admittedly, it can be really challenging to keep to this agenda on the fly, but the last thing you want to do is stop the conversation from flowing organically. Most times, the conversation will jump naturally from one question to the next. The important part is that you make sure each of the answers is a conversation and everyone is able to address them.

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin

5. Send out a questionnaire to all the participants prior to the meeting.

An agenda is extremely important, but it’ll be hard to stick to your timetable if the participants aren’t prepared themselves having thought about all the questions you plan to cover. If they haven’t already though through the questions, I guarantee you if you ask them what methods or processes worked well, you’ll get at least 10-20 seconds of blank stares.

This is productive for two reasons. First, you’ll more likely get better answers. It’s hard to come up with something on the spot that has substance. Secondly, when somebody finally feels like they have a good answer, nobody else will listen to them because they’re busy trying to think of a good answer themselves.

So, along with a simple agenda, make sure that you send all the participants a list of questions that they should think about prior to the meeting. It’s best if you give them plenty of time to get this done so it’s not a last minute dash right before the post-mortem.

“We must open the doors of opportunity. But we must also equip our people to walk through those doors.” Lyndon B. Johnson

6. Identify the moderator.

Along with an agenda, there must be one person responsible for moderating the meeting. This is generally the same person that set the agenda and scheduled the post-mortem. Having a moderator not only creates bumper rails for the conversation, but allows all the other team members the freedom to speak their mind without worrying excessively about the structure or process.

A good moderator will give the right amount of leeway for the conversation to tackle a tangent before reigning it back in.

The moderator should also be the one to take notes. I recommend using a white board. That allows team members to stay engaged, rather than frantically scribbling notes.

“Can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the things?” Homer Simpson

7. Keep it relaxed.

As I mentioned earlier, I love creative strategy meetings. They tend to be more relaxed and therefore more fun. Dreaded, high-tension post-mortems kill creativity and seal your team into their personal shells. That kind of meeting is as productive as a team-wide nap time.

You’re uncovering uncomfortable stuff much of the time. Deliberately promote a relaxed environment. If it’s early in the morning, bring coffee and donuts. If it’s later in the day, bring beer and well… donuts. Always bring donuts.

“A cheerful frame of mind, reinforced by relaxation… is the medicine that puts all ghosts of fear on the run.” George Matthew Adams

8. Encourage participation.

The goal of a post-mortem is a deep dive into the project and learning as a team. By surfacing the perspectives of everyone in the group – many of whom are often more in the weeds – they let us uncover issues at a micro-level that add up to a seriously macro impact. If only a few team members are speaking up, be sure and ask the others what thoughts they have. Sometimes it only takes a small amount of prodding before people feel comfortable talking.

“In teamwork, silence isn’t golden, it’s deadly.” Mark Sanborn

9. Leave the laptops behind.

Just like creative brainstorms, I prefer that post-mortems are screen-less affairs. Folks are encouraged to bring notes, but computers often provide more distraction than they’re worth. For those already a bit hesitant to share their thoughts, there’s nothing worse than opening up only to find that people aren’t paying attention. A post-mortem should create dialogue and bounce thoughts and ideas back and forth. There’s no room for a computer in this process – even for note taking. (I’ll explain why later.)

“The successful warrior is the average man, with laser focus.” Bruce Lee

10. Develop actionable takeaways.

Even the most productive post-mortem is no good unless there are clear, actionable takeaways. “Do better” is a noble takeaway indeed, but how do you act on that next time? You need specific to-dos the team can remember in the heat of the next project.

In our previous example, if communication was the problem, perhaps the actionable takeaway is to set more regular, in-person check-ins.

Actionable takeaways set clear expectations. The team can hold each other accountable for implementing them on the next project.

“An organization’s ability to learn, and translate that learning into action rapidly, is the ultimate competitive advantage.” Jack Welch

11. Share post-mortem takeaways.

Nothing groundbreaking here. The last important tip is to share the post-mortem takeaways with anybody who might benefit from your newly-found pearls of wisdom. This definitely includes your post-mortem attendees. But spend the time to identify others in your company who deal with the same challenges.

“Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.” His Holiness the Dalai Lama

While some of these tips are bit more rigid than others, the most important thing to remember is to keep the nature of the post-mortem light, yet still productive and impactful. If you succeed, you’ll watch your team take away immensely valuable insights that’ll make the next project even better.

Or if this is all just too much, just be sure and call it a Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza. And bring donuts.

The post 10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem appeared first on Portent.

http://bit.ly/2AJittR