one by one
Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction
Nights drinking with Dr. Mortum have become equal parts business and pleasure. You never know where you’ll find a new lead.
[Fake]
[Read on AO3]
“Jane…?” Dr. Mortum’s voice is quiet compared to the noise of the bar. Busy night at Joes again.
“Mm?” Jane blinks, jerking her head up. “Sorry, sorry. I was a million miles away.” You need to stop thinking about Ortega. This is getting dangerous.
“Penny for your thoughts, mon amie?”
“Oh, uh…” She scans the floor, looking for something to sidetrack the conversation. “What do you make of that modded woman over there?” Jane nods her head in the direction of the game tables. A heavily scarred Latina woman with mods down the back of her head is in a heated argument with an Asian man with a crisp pressed suit. South-east Asian maybe? “Does she have any sense of self-preservation? That’s not the kind of guy I’d want to cross, personally.”
“Not the kind of person you would cross?” Mortum laughs, “What makes you say that?”
“Look at him.” Jane gestures in their direction, a quick motion. Hopefully not noticed by anyone but the doctor. “That suit? In this dive? Guy’s some kind of made-man.” She shakes her head. “Just asking for trouble.”
“You are not wrong.” Mortum nods her head in agreement. “I do believe that is one of Hollow Ground’s men.”
“Hollow Ground?” Jane frowns, drumming her fingers on the table. “Huh.”
Now that you think about it, you’ve seen him around here once or twice. Hollow Ground has a finger in just about every criminal enterprise in Los Diablos, so it’s to be expected, really.
“Do you think Hollow Ground is a real person, or is he like… some sort of shadow cabal?”
Mortum shrugs, suddenly interested in her drink. “I find it does not pay to ask that kind of question, mon amie.”
“Hrmmm…” Sooner or later, you’re going to end up crossing paths with Hollow Ground, whatever they are. In another life, you’d listen to Ortega talk about her theories, try to help her track down likely clues. Not once did either of you turn up anything material. Who or whatever they are, their grip was rock solid. Anyone that wanted to talk had a habit of catching a case of sudden death.
Ortega was convinced there was a singular person behind it. Someone that had murdered her mentor, Marshal Hood.
It was never your favorite subject. Something about the whole thing just… seemed off.
Funny to think you might stand a better chance of finding out the truth now, when you could never tell Ortega. “What are the odds you think it’ll escalate into a fight?”
Mortum doesn’t even look up. “Seventy-six precent.”
“Did you just make that up?”
“Of course, mon amie.” She winks at Jane. “Did you expect me to say something like, ‘somewhat likely’ like some kind of hack?”
“Ugh. Scientists.” Jane rolls her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how much of your stuff is just bullshit.”
“Madam, you wound me.”
Jane doesn’t offer a retort, watching the argument slowly escalate in volume. Maybe you can get a sense of this guy’s abilities. Two-to-one he’s some kind of Enhanced. Rosie approaches the modded Latina, trying to talk her down.
To little success.
With a sigh, Jane pushes herself up from her seat. “Alright, I’m gonna go pull Rosie’s ass out of the fire.”
“I would have thought she could handle herself, but suit yourself mon amie.” Mortum eyes the scene, then flickers back to Jane with barely concealed curiosity.
“You know me.” Jane winks, a smile on her face.
Sauntering over to the table, Jane keeps her hands on hips as she surveys the scene. It’s a quantum roulette table. Numbers generated using quantum uncertainty to make an ‘uncheatable’ game. The wide variety of different boost abilities out there have forced gambling to take a few extra steps in order for casinos to stay on top.
The scarred Latina has left her seat to come around and prod Hollow Ground’s guy, who has in turn gotten out of his seat and is staring down at the shorter woman with an air of bored amusement.
Hrm. Doesn’t look like she had much money left. Good sign.
Rosie tries to reach for her friend’s shoulder, pull her back. “Mecha… please. Don’t start anything.”
“I don’t care! I’m sick of this cheater!”
Jane siddles up next to Rosie. No one else looks about to interview. The Croupier watches with a blank expression, as if expecting things to resolve themselves. The other players look to be quietly collecting their winnings. “Hey, Rosie.”
“–Jane?” Rosie glances to the side, face brightening up once catching sight of her friend. “Oh, hey Janey.”
“How’s the luck running?”
“Not bad – well, not as bad as…” Rosie makes a face, nodding towards Mecha.
“I heard. Along with the rest of the bar.” Jane eyes Mecha, who has not once stopped ranting at her supposed ‘cheater.’ “What’s the problem here anyway?”
Rosie drops her voice into a whisper, guarding her mouth with a hand. “Mecha thinks Jake here is cheating.” ‘Jake’ huh?
“Seriously?” Jane raises her voice. “She’s really going to accuse Joes of running a crooked game?”
That gets Mecha to turn, snarling. “No I’m not.” She jabs a finger at Jake’s chest. “I’m saying he is cheating!”
To your relief, Jake brushes the finger off, his expression unchanging.
“So… let me get this straight,” Jane frowns. “You’re saying–”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business!”
“You’re loud enough to make it my business.”
Rosie winces, “She’s not wrong.”
“Look.” You sigh, shoot a glance at Jake. “You really want to say someone that works for Hollow Ground has to stoop to cheating? Really?”
“I…” Mecha grinds her teeth, balling her hands into fists and then letting go. “I see your point.” Oh good, so she’s not suicidal. That’s nice. Mecha spares one last glance at Jake. “But…”
“It was a bad losing streak.” Rosie cuts in. “Legendary.”
“I… guess.” Mecha groans.
Jake shrugs, “Bad luck. It happens.”
“Whatever.” Mecha throws up her hands, stepping away from the table. “I’m out of here.” She doesn’t even stop to collect her meager winnings.
Rosie watches her leave with a sigh. “Well, that could have gone better.”
“Hey,” Jane winks. “It could have gone a lot worse too.”
Jake sits back down at the table, taking stock of his large pile of tokens. “You gonna play then?”
Would it be weirder to say yes or no? Jane glances at Rosie who shrugs, unhelpful. “Alright, well. There’s a free seat, so why not?” With a smile she takes the open seat and sits down. Guess maybe a round or two won’t hurt right?
It’s a weird sensation as Jane sits down. Like this has all happened before. Someone laughs as a new song comes on the radio. The numbers finish cycling, landing on red twelve.
Okay.
That was unsettling.
The croupier looks at Jane, blank faced. “Place your bet miss.”
Jane pulls a few bills out of her purse. As she does, someone laughs in the background, a new song cycling onto the radio. Okay. That’s weird.
A moment of hesitation and then –
Jane puts the fifty dollar bill on the table. “Put in on red twelve.” You did this before, didn’t you? Or were going to? Or was always going to have done? It doesn’t quite feel real.
“Jesus.” Rosie groans behind Jane, watching over her shoulder. “You don’t put that much on a single number, Janey.”
“Beginner’s luck.” Jane can’t stop the grin as she watches the numbers cycle. It’s all for show. The actual randomization takes an instant. But what is gambling without pagenty?
Hrm. No wonder so many villains gamble.
The croupier does not sound surprised as he speaks, but he looks in Jane’s direction, curious. “Red twelve, Miss Jane wins.”
Behind her, Rosie gasps, slaps Jane on the back. “Hot damn! I can’t believe it.”
“...neither can I.” Jane watches the small fortune shoved her way, wide-eyed. “I was just… the beginner’s luck thing was bravado.”
“Hey, guess drinks on you tonight, huh Janey?”
“...sure.” Sitting across from her, Jake watches Jane intently. He’s not the only one. Might have outstayed your welcome sooner than you expected. Robotically, she splits off a handful of bills and presses them into Rosie’s hands as she gets up from the table. “Have ten of them.”
“See, this is why we’re friends.”
“Uh-huh.” Swallow hard, throat dry. What the fuck was that?
Dr. Mortum is still waiting when Jane returns. Face a little more ashen then when she left. Purse significantly fuller.
Mortum raises her glass in greeting. “Still in one piece, I see?”
Jane’s smile as she sits back down is more brittle than you’d planned. “Disappointed?”
“Of course not, mon amie!” Dr. Mortum looks genuine enough as she says it. “I was mostly… curious what you were up to.”
“Worried?”
“More…” She takes a drink to stall for time. “Wondering why, I suppose.”
Jane shrugs. Would prefer to move on from this topic sooner rather than later. “I guess I wasn’t eager to see a friend of Rosie’s get put in an early grave.”
“Is that so?” Mortum raises eyebrows, not buying it. “That is a noble goal.”
“Probably futile, if we’re honest.”
“I was not going to say anything.”
Jane shrugs, keeps her back turned on the roulette table. Could swear you feel Jake’s eyes digging into Jane’s back. Without your telepathy, you can’t actually know that if that’s true or if you’re just being paranoid.
You’re not sure which answer you’d prefer.
“Do I really need a goal?” What Jane needs is a new drink. “It was fun, I guess. Nothing more to it.”
“Fun?” Dr. Mortum winks. “Perhaps you are in the wrong line of work, mon amie.”
“Oh don’t start with that again.” Jane scowls, “I felt like doing it, so I did.”
“Fair enough.” Mortum leans back in her chair. “I suppose that’s just life. Chaos and impulse until it all goes black.”
“Bleak.”
“But true.”
“I don’t know about that.” Jane’s smile is grim. “Nothing’s truly random.”
What was up with that table? How did you know that? Come to think of it, haven’t you felt that before? In the past. It was always easy to brush off before.
“There’s always a pattern,” Jane presses on. “Someone pulling the strings. If you know where to look.”
“And you do, mon amie?” Mortum smiles back.
It’s an open question how much the doctor knows. Enough, at least. More than you’d like, almost certainly. Concerns for the future. As long as her friendship with Jane keeps her on your side, you’ll make use of her skills. And there’s always a call for that. Each new day offers new opportunities. New strings to pull.
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