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thewhumpstuff · 4 years

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You and I, Me and You [32]

[CW:- References to: Past gunshot trauma leading to loss of limb, human trafficking and trade, amputee oc rescued from captivity. ]

[Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] - (Lost and Found: Chapter - 7)

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Empty by Ritonix

Jared was left feeling incredibly uncomfortable on Ezekiel’s turf. The blonde had just made that house his, left parts of himself in the tasteful debauchery. From the thoughtfully curated pieces of art and display of exotic ancient instruments, to the carefully minimalistic nature of all the furniture that promised convenience, comfort and luxury. He walked into the study with Tariq. “Zizi… sounds like Vivi. Zizi… Vivi… Zizi… Vivi” Tariq remarked with a dry snigger. He needed some relief from the tense silence which he and Nova adopted, to let Zizi rest by the fire. This felt like a cheap trick to lighten things and it made her name feel strangely familiar. He swallowed his hollow laughter and surrendered to the awkward silence again when the other man emphatically did not react. They made their way back inside. Jared spotted the tall woman resting on the floor in front of the fireplace. She looked like she was napping, lying on her right side. Only a single leg emerged under the hem of the flimsy gown. Her arm lay draped across her ample hips, the fingers caressing the carpet with every uneven breath. Her head was resting in the crook of the other and her eyes were closed. The stump of her forearm that she had lost would have been imperceptibly hidden in her hair. Not fingers, nor a fist was visible though the strands and that was enough for Jared to know. Much like Tariq, he had seen his share of victims. It was rarer to see them without prosthetics, though. He made it his priority to get her access to those as soon as time permitted after he got a grip on the situation. Jared noted the swelling and bruises on Tariq’s hands. He jerked his chin towards the pummelled fingers. “Is she dangerous?” Jared did not sound fearful, just a little concerned and rather matter of fact. He was astounded by the resounding quality of Tariq’s answer. “No. She’s a survivor!” Jared narrowed his eyes, there was curiosity but no accusation. “What happened?” “Things just got a little… hairy when I- we tried to get her out of the room…” Tariq sounded a little brittle; Jared rubbed his temple. There were moments that called for correction and inquiry, this was not one of them. From the looks of it Tariq had done the best he could. He assumed there was an altercation and the Q.B. agent held off without needing to strike or restrain the victim. “Right. You should get that looked at.” Jared said. Tariq’s amber eyes rested on Jared as he replied. “I’m fine.” “Yes, but Zizi is going to need a wheelchair, she can’t possibly stay here.” Jared countered, with an entreating glare. Someone needed to run tests on Zizi and soon. The situation was a little sensitive and the only viable option for a BioHacker was also someone Zizi was probably terrified of. He personally knew what it felt like to be hated by a victim of serum-healing. And Akira had had just one session. From the sounds of it, Zizi had it worse. Regardless, they had to get out of Eze’s house. It was an easy way for Jared to trump Tariq with logic. He had no authority to dismiss Tariq and he could only hope the man would show some faith in him. Tariq did have faith in Jared. Given everything they had endured, the mutual suffering, if nothing else, had created some trust and understanding. He could also see that Jared was really trying to get him to leave, but he did make a good point. He’s got this… and… “I’ll be back…” …Sooner I’m gone, sooner I can be back…

Zizi had not been asleep. Jared should have known better, after all, he had adopted a similar tactic to gain information when he was confined to the hospital bed. She got to her feet with astonishing fleetness, given her state, but she had to, to make a point. “Wait!” A startled Tariq heeded the exclamation but did not turn. “Your hand… I - I’m sorry…” Her apology was crisp and not elegiac. There was an indifference to her regret, but also some deference for Tariq’s chivalry. As sour as she had been about it, he had done her a favour and understood the feral nature of a cornered person. Even if they haul me back to the damn pits, at least valour and gallantry is not all dead. He pointedly let his uninjured hand hang by his side, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I don’t see a problem, do you?” “You’re crazy…” she whispered, like it was a personal afterthought. She shook her head disbelievingly. “Empty, that’s you singing right? I’m a big fan too…” Tariq said having placed the lyrics to the name of the song. He looked over his shoulder and offered a reassuring smile, pretending like nothing ever happened. Tariq wished she had not bothered to stand up. He understood that it was to demonstrate the respect she attached to the apology… It still felt unwarranted “Does this fan have a name?” “Tariq… I best be off though…” His smile faltered when he saw her doddering. He considered reaching out, he did not need to. Jared noticed too from the corner of his eye. The movement helped him snap back to reality. It did not take a genius to know a fall was imminent, he swiftly reached over to break the fall. She is fine. Jared will take care of this… better. Tariq conceded to Jared’s experience. With that last glimpse of Zizi falling into Jared’s arms… He left in a hurry. Once her gaze fell onto the face of the man who caught her, she stiffened in his arms. Jared Knight… Hailed then and hailed now. From the way he handled her, it became apparent that he did not know who she was. How would he? I was in a goddamn mask. And everyone who thought they knew him, were probably wrong.

There he was, composed and detached as usual. Out of personal, illogical vendetta she wanted to strip at that wall, bring to the forefront her own resentment as a victim, as collateral damage in the grand scheme of things. She wanted to and she tried not to, but the bitterness slipped into her tone. “Oh… If it isn’t The Red Knight.” She greeted him in another whisper that was soft and unsettling. Jared could no longer ignore the feeling that something was off, something that necessitated privacy; luckily, he had some now. Those green eyes pierced his soul, with reserved judgement. There was a sheen of sweat on her skin. “So, where do you stand in all this?” She spoke coolly, pulling herself away when she regained footing. He frowned and was quick to let her go. She lowered herself to the ground with a slightly ungraceful fall towards the end. He sat down too, cross-legged. Like old friends by the fireplace, except it was anything but. They did share a past… And it was not pleasant. “I was told that Ezekiel held you captive against your will and that Novara was made to conduct experiments on you.” She winced; he did not mince his words. “That is correct.” She did not add any details and studied the man in front of her. Jared could see her unwillingness to really cooperate. She had no reason to trust him, but apart from that, there was more to the simmering, penetrative gaze that pinned him. He switched tactics, it made sense to set her at ease first. “You must be hungry… I personally like this one...” Jared held both the bottles of BuzzBo in his hands, wiggling the fruity flavour. It reminded him pointedly of Akira and their discussion. He ignored the reminder. She avoided looking at Jared and could not help choosing the other bottle. The one he did not recommend, the savoury flavour that tasted more like soup. It was a pointed decision. Jared ignored the feeling and weighed this logically. He assumed she was emphasizing a lack of trust. It would not make sense for him to tamper with just one of the bottles if he wanted to drug her. He broke open the seal for her. Look at you, helping me… Just because you have both your hands. Zizi really wished she could swallow the bitterness that rose like bile. She tensed and it would have been imperceptible to most, not to Jared. “Thank you.” Her words were too abrasive, to hold the gratitude they were meant to. Jared narrowed his eyes, he was good at reading people, but Zizi was not even trying to make it difficult. What Jared lacked was access and information, to figure out the why. In the spirit of trying to inspire trust yet again, Jared shrugged, opened the option he had recommended and took a swig. The sweet freshness was welcome. It quelled the odd queasiness he had not bothered to recognize until it was gone. “Ezekiel has been arrested on some charges; he will not be returning.” “So, what happens now, am I free?” She asked with an acidic emphasis, like she was challenging him to make a promise he could not possibly keep. He did not. “That depends on where he found you... Zizi.” “Found me? I was… traded… for my own life. If that makes any sense.” It doesn’t. A sharp inhale followed her words. It was difficult to make heads or tails out of that, but it did not sound good. He tried to prompt her for a less vague explanation. “Traded for your life?” Jared repeated, he hoped she would offer more clarity so he had something concrete to proceed with. The more she looked at his face, the harder it became for her to not blame him for everything. Traded for my life, a life that did not belong to me anymore… because of you! He knew he was not really the enemy, not then and not anymore, but that just made it all the more difficult to handle. He got to be the good guy who was doing his job, she had to live with the damn fallout. She shook her head with an urgency and resorted to disjointedly spewing her lyrics again. Empty returned to her lips again. She rapped softly, like it was a mantra. It was iconic enough to be. “Empty… promises, empty threats…, empty lies and empty beds.” Zizi used lines she had penned a long time ago, like a serenade. The words sent a jolt of disquiet within Jared. Empty, by Ritonix. It was a long time ago that he was ordered to look for that enigmatic artist and his involvement in the chase had not ended well. He did not expect that name or these verses to haunt him today. Jared sat paralyzed. He stared at the floor resolutely focusing the fibre of the carpet, which was red and not green. Which was soft and not abrasive. Letting that solid red colour stand like a wall between the memories that sought to invade. It was a long time ago! I am fine. I’m fine now. And I knew the risks then. Briefly, her eyes snapped open, they held within them accusation that she failed to supress. She waved the stump of her right hand in his face. “That bullet changed everything! That bullet changed EVERYTHING.” Jared leaned away from her on instinct, he was bewildered. His subconscious learned something though, something clicked in the back of his head. - “Do you have a clear shot, Knight?” “Yes sir.” His gun was aimed at the masked artists’ head. “Take it. One dead should kill the spirit of the rest.” The crowd watched the confrontation, there were too many eyes on him. He lowered the gun, just a little. BANG. The victim was soon buried in a thicket of angry people. “I missed, sir. Situation is hostile, we’re outnumbered.” “Damn it, Knight. Get your team the fuck out of there.” - “Break your mind, break your soul, break your body, to make you whole.” She went on. It felt merciless to Jared, but she had no idea what the lyrics were doing to him. She did not know that he had been brought to his knees for that shot… and worse. Jared resisted the urge to cover his ears and beg her to stop. Instead, he grit his teeth and folded his arms. He sat there, practicing denial as he watched her. She rocked to her own words, like a shattering star. There were so many dissenters who had claimed they were the legendary artist. Many had lost parts of themselves too. This could just be a coincidence. It could not be. It could not actually be her. And even if it was her… I did pay heavily for that bullet too! Indignation had become a recurring theme recently. Perhaps a part of him was finally tired of paying for things he had to do. Jared grappled with the forbidding memories again and tried to focus on keeping his breaths spaced and even. Was this just some cruel ploy? Some last-laugh game that Ezekiel was playing to torment him? Nikolai had buried everything related to that incident the best he could, but Ezekiel did always have special access. Maybe he found out what the Ritonix fans and crew did to Jared as retaliation for that shot… Now, he wanted to know. He needed to know. And for that he would need his own clearance. He also really needed Zizi to stop whispering the rap… A door opened and closed somewhere in the house. The sound toppled Jared back to reality yet again and it broke the grim tension of the moment. Tariq returned with a wheelchair. Zizi was still in a trance. Her eyes were screwed shut. She rocked and rapped with an insistence, through lips that barely opened. And Jared looked like he had seen a ghost. I thought you had this handled, Jared. “What the fuck happened here?” “We need to get her looked at…” Jared replied, collecting himself quickly as he got to his feet. “Nova is the only option if we want to avoid exposure. Do you think that’ll be okay?” Tariq asked uneasily, they were both out of their depths. It was unlikely that Zizi did not harbour at least some ill-will towards the medic if she was a subject of experimentation with that serum. Jared was rummaging through the canvas pockets of the wheelchair, most of them came equipped with medical supplies, including tranquilizers. He swiftly fixed up the needle. I need… her to stop and we need to get her out of here. He rarely acted in total selfish interest, today was no exception. She looked like she needed to calm down and he knew if the verses continued, they’d rip through him eventually. And that would hamper his ability to remain professional. Tariq wanted to protest but did not and Jared made a decision. “It’s the safest… fastest option.” Zizi did not open her eyes till she was already being injected with the tranquilizer. Emerald eyes drilled into Jared, with hatred and fear, before her vision blurred. Tariq hoisted Zizi’s limp form into the wheelchair and strapped her in to keep her from wobbling. Jared sent a message to Nova.

To Novara: Where are you?

Jared had made a mental note of Nova’s things in Ezekiel’s house, just because they stuck out and reminded him that she had to live with him. On their way out, he whipped the sleek, black velvet coat off the hanger and threw it over Zizi in a slightly unceremonious manner. His actions were plagued by a hefty weariness. Tariq took a moment to wordlessly correct the folds of the fabric so it covered Zizi evenly. -

To Jared Knight: I’m with Akira… I told her everything. She is okay. I’m okay too. :)

Novara had the tendency to include smileys in her text messages, even when she decidedly was not smiling. Grief and relief had reduced her to sobs. Novara had invited herself into Akira’s room on the pretext of watching a movie. It had not taken her long to simply, spill. Akira now knew more than Jared did. She knew about Zizi and she knew what Vivi-Anna, Tariq and Nova did to Ezekiel to free her. “It’s okay… It’s okay...” Akira’s voice was soft, she cradled Nova’s head against her shoulder. They were both in Aki’s bed and she hoped for the magic of covers to make things better… Even temporarily, like they had last night for her and Jared. She felt the weight of guilt, a lot of things happened because she made the decision to defect. However, things had gotten so unrealistically out of hand, at this point there was no way she, or anyone else could have predicted all these outcomes. So, after having plummeted to what she believed to be rock-bottom, Akira tried to rally. Focus on the silver-linings. Focus on the silver-linings. Shit hit the fan, but Ezekiel was imprisoned, Jared was offered SiC and Zizi had been rescued. Maybe it was time for things to get better. And she needed to pull herself together, so she could be there for Novara, for Tariq and for Jared. “They’d eat a bullet for you.” She was grateful that they did not have to. They had suffered too… And they had been there for her. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me? Ever… not hate me?” Nova didn’t look up as she spoke. Akira could not make promises for Zizi. She chewed on her lower lip. “Time heals everything, right Nova…? Or you do…” She tried to lighten the mood. Nova half-sobbed and half-giggled against her friend. Akira joined her in the half-hearted chuckle. The sounds faded, the screen in front of them continued to mutter something unintelligibly. Akira spoke over it, “I think I want to meet her.” Nova received a notification on cue.

Jared Knight: Stay there, I am bringing Zizi over.

The CommCube traced Nova’s gesticulating fingers as they danced in the air, typing on a keyboard that her SmartEye lens allowed only her to see. She sniffled and replied to the text with a monosyllabic confirmation.

To Jared Knight: Ok! :)

“You might be in luck… They’re coming here.” Nova could not help but sound nervous. Akira read her tone with ease. “It’ll be fine…” She reassured.

[Tags: @quirkykayleetam, @lettuceknighted]

#dealing with past trauma #whump #emotional angst #guilt #coping mechanisms #fear #trying to build trust #oc Zizi #oc Jared #oc Akira #oc Novara #oc Tariq

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