A/N: Hello all, and welcome to my first Psychonauts up taking. I played the game years ago, and up until only recently, me and my fiance got back to it and actually beat said game - our interest in it renewed due to us working together on a project. Thus I've been driven into the world of Psychonauts beyond the games; that of the arts and stories I found. So when my mind started coming up with my own ideas for stories... I couldn't really say 'No' to it.

And now you're going to suffer along with me and endeavor this (and hopefully other) adventurous a tale involving our favorite psychics. Our, well, most of my favorites, anywho. So enough rambling. I'll get on with it. Really hope you guys enjoy the ride with me.

Warning: This fic is rated M for Mature. Contains themes of violence, sexual tension and/or innuendo, language, and mental trauma.

Disc: I do not own Psychonauts. That honor belongs to Tim Schafer. If I did, however, we'd all have gotten Psychonauts 2, played, loved and beaten it, and be anticipating Psychonauts 3 later this year in April.

O Desejo Mais Profundo

'The mind is a terrible thing to waste.' That being said, then why is it that everyday, minds are being continuously wasted?

Oh yes, there are those who chose to advance their education, going to college, getting careers that shape their minds for tasks of grandeur more prominent than that of learning how to flip a hamburger. They think to themselves that they are doing something with their lives, and alternatively their brains, and that they are contributing more to society by doing so.

I, however, see this as rubbish. They are no better than those individuals who sit at home all day long watching TV, or wasting hours upon their computers doing such trivial things involving the internet.

Society expects individuals to grow, learn and evolve to better mankind, and in turn, better society. Yet, society is what is wasting these minds! Society is the problem here, because what it can not understand is that, while yes, a man receiving a degree from harvard has shaped his mind for a higher purpose... all that man did was learn.

Learning is a basic function of the brain.

It is growth of the brain that is being denied! This is the failing of society to see the difference between what is, and what can be.

However, society placed limits and statues on what individuals can do in order to achieve this growth... thus stunting that growth entirely.

I find it ridiculous that what needs to be done in order for humanity as a whole to grow beyond its limits, can not be done based on the ideology of morals and moral value.

History has shown time and time again that when true progress is actually being made in the advancement of humanity, it gets shut down as soon as it is brought to light. So many trials wasted.

This has not, and will not, be the case with myself. Our trials and studies have proven so many great things about our minds and brains... theories and ideas only thought fantasy have opened up to us. I've documented everything progressive in every case we've taken on.

However, for now, no light can be shed here. Perhaps in the future to come, we can come out from the dark and share our research with the rest of the world. For now, we must remain behind the veil.

We are to being a new trial in three days. I am not sure what results to expect with this particular trial; lending itself to a more mundane area of study and one that has even fewer subjects that meet the required criteria. Surely it shall lead to some promising results, though only if we take some veritable course corrections within this scenario.

Trial 16-72: R
Section: Marriage and Family
Subsection: Child/Parental Bonds
Operations: Program A2, A5, B4, B6, C5, {D,E,F}[All] R4, S6, and T7 (variable n random)
Extra parameters: Subject Psychological Profile, extrapolate/modify

True Values; Non-negotiable:

W1: Patient is exposed(placed) to deepest desire.
W2: Patient must accept desire is, in fact, reality.
W3: Refer and Enforce Week Two.
W4: Patient undergoes loss of reality.

Trial time expectancy: One month
SRTV

I will be updating this trial's log with a number of additional imposed questions if for sheer experimentation with a few personal queries and ideas of what can happen between times of peace and stress, joy and sorrow, and ultimately measuring the mentality of a mother's bond between child, and how it becomes affected when faced with loss of said child. There will be three separate subjects for this trial. One subject will be conducted and monitored under my personal team.

- S. Monroe.

xxxxxx

The jarring blare of an alarm clock sounded throughout the small room it occupied; the sound bouncing off the walls created an echo effect that could have woken the dead. This digital cry only lasted a few seconds before a heavy hand fell upon the device, silencing it.

A mass of bedsheets and blankets shifted, the hand slowly sinking back under the piled fort. A disgruntled murmuring slipping out from beneath the fabrics. A defeated sigh followed and the figure beneath the covers pushed up; fort toppling.

It was five in the morning.

Razputin Aquato glared at the mocking red LED display on the clock. He hated being up so early. Yet there was nothing to be done about it. The boy stumbled his way of out bed, using up the ten minutes of leeway he'd given himself in order to get ready before he had to leave; and that was way too soon.

Get up at five; meet up with the gang at five-thirty, to get to the airport at six, get on a plane at seven, to get to their destination at eleven, to arrive and make a meeting by two.

Raz rubbed his face and wondered how the other members of the crew fared this early of an hour. He could imagine Lili being a bit the same as he; tired and grumpy for not getting enough 'beauty sleep.' Though that last part she'd probably only admit in her head, and he would admit to himself that she wouldn't need to sleep for her beauty.

Sasha would be tired, but wouldn't show it; and would most likely already have a half drunk cup of coffee from a local vendor or fast food joint. Most likely his second cup of the morning... and maybe a smoke. Raz shrugged. He never really got the whole smoking thing. Yes, he knew for some it was a vice; helped with nerves and other such things. For others it was a peer pressure and rebellious thing. Some few a mere fashion statement. Raz didn't really care either way. He didn't plan on ever picking up the habit... he already had his own vice of assorted sodas and rich candied goods.

Milla... Raz paused. Milla was one of those people who you were pretty sure you could figure out everything about her after spending on day around her. Yet, Raz knew this wasn't entirely the case. He'd seen a side of Milla most of the public never saw. Granted, he'd been a Psychonaut for six years now, so this was one of the many privileges that came with working with who you've known for so long; that you got to see sides of people you normally would not.

Not always good, not always bad. Just another part of a person that made them human.

All this musing however did nothing to alleviate the fact that it was now five twenty and he was still miserably tired. With one last look around his room; going over a mental checklist of everything he'd need for the trip, Raz gave a huff as he grabbed up his suitcase and headed out the door.

xxxxxx

"If he's not here in five minutes, I'm going to pound him into next week! It's too early for this crap!"

Lili Zanotto was not amused.

It was five fifty in the morning. The group was suppose to leave in ten minutes to go to the airport. They were running a tight schedule, and if they arrived late to the meeting...well, nothing catastrophic would happen really, but it would make the US branch of the Psychonauts look really bad.

"Don't stress, Darling. Razputin will be here any moment now."

Lili turned slightly towards the taller woman, giving her a look that seems to say 'Yeah, I know, but I still wanna pout.'

"He's always doing this. I thought we were the only ones allowed to be fashionably late?"

Milla gave a small chuckle at this, followed by the young Zanatto. Over the last few years, Lili had sprouted up a bit from the tiny girl she'd been, and was blossoming into an attractive and feisty young woman. She still sported the look of a girl who enjoyed mixing girlish styles with dangerous themes...

Knee high boots with zippers; short skirts with mixes of color and flash; tops cut at the right angles with some various art scrawled on it - usually some band name or some brand of clothing catering to the eclectic, goth or punk masses. Bangles, bracelets, fingerless gloves. A choker. The same mahogany locks of hair; pigtailed; now trailed down her back almost to her rear; a small streak of blue or black could be found mixed in.

All this was the image of the fourteen year old Lili Zanatto.

"I highly doubt the representatives at the conference would be so inclined to give any accommodation of our tardiness towards fashion." Came a subdued response.

Milla turned towards her partner and smirked.

"That is because those bureaucrats only ever wear the same suit and tie day in and day out. Fashion is about more than just one sharp outfit in a closet, darling."

Sasha's expression appeared to remained neutral, though he'd paused in his action of taking a sip of his coffee; pulling it away from his lips just slightly.

"Are you saying I'm not fashionable?"

Milla was about to respond with a teasing mock hurt comment when a sudden shout caused the group to halt and turn towards the owner of the voice; which was currently moving towards them in leaps and bounds.

"I'm here! I'm coming! Sorry for the delay!" Raz shouted as he made his way quickly towards the group.

He stopped short of them; bending over to catch some of his breath.

"What the hell, Raz!? It's six fifty-five! We're going to be late to the airport!" Lili stomped a boot onto the pavement; her hands resting on her hips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I sorta... got lost? Hehe...but, hey, I'm here now, so we can get going!"

"How do you- ugh, nevermind." Lili sighed.

The girl then grabbed ahold of Raz's arm and began to drag him over towards the vehicle meant to take them to the airport.

"I wish we could have taken the jet instead of a public plane." The boy muttered as the group got into the car.

"Agreed. The jet would have indeed been more adequate for this kind of travel." Sasha replied, fastening the passenger side seat belt as he spoke.

"Unfortunately, it is still undergoing extensive repairs from the Johannesburg case."

"Really? That was like, two months ago."

"Don't stress about it, darling. The jet will be fixed up eventually, and up and running again. In the meantime, a plane trip isn't going to kill you; either of you." Milla grinned back at Raz through the rearview mirror, then to her partner sitting next to her.

The car roared to life, and began to make its departure. It was time this 'mission' got onto the road.

xxxxxx

Raz felt as if his body were melting as he sank into the seat assigned to him aboard the plane. It was a lot comfier than he imagined it would be. Then again, it could just that he was dog tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next four hours. However, this fantasy was shot down as he remembered Sasha telling him that both Lili and himself were going to be briefed on the topic of the Psychonaut conference their group would be attending.

The younger agent fiddled with the button on the arm of his seat as he waited, some what impatiently, for Lili and Milla to cram their bags into the overhead storage compartments. He wondered idly why the heck both women felt the need to have two bags of luggage for clothes. Did not they tell him to pack light because they'd only be gone for a week? Three of those days being stuck in the conference to boot. The boy rolled his eyes. All he had with him was his backpack with enough items he considered acceptable and had been able to simply shove that under his seat. Hell, even Sasha had packed less than he did! Looking under the other's seat, Raz noted the only bag Sasha had carried on was his a bag for a laptop; also placed under his seat.

Raz paused mid drum of his fingers, eyes snapping up at the man sitting in front of him.

Wait… if that was all he had… then was he already wearing the only clothes he had?

Raz made a face at that; but was suddenly given a look as the subject of his scrutiny peered up from the folder he'd been looking over.

'Milla is forcing me to purchase a few sets of clothes while we are there.'

Raz's eyes widened. Had he said something out loud? Sasha gave the boy a tiny smirk.

'Your mental defenses don't seem to care for early mornings either.'

'I..ah.. sorry; wasn't trying to be rude...just...rambling thoughts?'

"Okay! Finally!" Lili suddenly shouted in a small bout of triumph.

The girl then wiggled her way past Raz, to sit down in the seat next to his. Milla mirrored the girl by sitting in the seat opposite her and next to her partner.

"So, is this something special for planes, 'cause I've never seen planes with seats facing other seats before." Raz wondered aloud.

"For certain types of planes, such as the bigger international airliners, this is a bit standard. A lot of business is discussed on planes by corporate heads, so it maintains the business partner appreciatory aspect." Sasha spoke as he pulled out three identical folders to the one he was already glossing over.

He handed over a folder to each of the others, moving right to the point of their trip. Raz flipped open the folder, scanning over the documents in them. It wasn't some outrageous crazy villain bent on world domination, nor was it some madman stealing brains or using his psychic powers to enslave humanity. It was, however, still a disturbing thing to see and read about.

"As you know, the conference we are attending will be addressing the widespread terrorist attacks that have been occurring since January; though I use the term 'terrorist' loosely here." Sasha spoke evenly.

"Why? It's an attack on people, isn't it?" Lili said, looking up from her folder.

The young girl frowned. Seeing things like this in papers; it made her a bit sick to her stomach. Humanity could be such an ugly creature sometime; to attack itself just for the sake of saying 'You're wrong, I'm right!' or 'You're different so you must be punished.'

"Sasha has the impression these attacks aren't meant as terrorist attacks, darling. For one thing, they've been targeting both psychics and non psychics alike. For another; there is never any demands made, no threats of action or retaliation, and no evidence to support that these attacks are meant to terrorize the citizens or government. Though, of course, people are getting scared." Milla said softly.

"People are also disappearing. Whenever there is an attack and the dust settles, there is always one or two people missing from the area. It took about a month for people to catch on to this recurring detail." Sasha said curtly.

Raz though Sasha sounded almost bitter about this. Then again, he probably was. This could be what the older agent considered 'sloppy investigating' for it to have taken the police that long to realize people were disappearing.

"So… then it's starting to sound like… some kind of mass kidnapping ring."

"Exactly what I was thinking." The older psychonaut gave a nod to the boy.

"But what for?" Raz narrowed his eyes, thinking it over.

"Looking at the reports of all the reportedly missing people since late January, you can see there is no discrimination towards those being taken. Men, women and children of all ages and ethnicity are seen here."

"Anti-racist kidnappers. Wonderful." Lili snorted, the snark comment dripping of sarcasm and a promise to kick this group of people snatchers square in the balls.

A stewardess stopped by just then, asking each of them if they'd care for any refreshments. Once the groups order was taken, she politely excused herself and hurried along to the next group. Raz had to lean over Lili to confirm that they had indeed already taken off and were high up enough to get up out of their seat if need be.

"So then why call it terrorist attacks at all? Isn't that just going to confuse people and create widespread panic?" Raz turned back towards the older pair.

"Because the government is a bunch of-"

"They feel it necessary to use such a drastic tactic in hopes of elevating the seriousness of the attacks, pushing it to the top of a long list of serious threats that need to be dealt with. It's there way of… securing a priority standpoint." Milla smoothed over.

"That's playing dirty." Lili sneered at that.

"That's politics." Sasha grunted.

The conversation went on for a while longer, pointing out further details about what the conference was going to cover, the thoughts the older agents had about the attacks and how they might go about investigating them. During this time the stewardess had brought them their drinks and a few assortments of packaged peanuts and crackers.

Raz knew he was not going to enjoy sitting in during the conference. It was going to be six hours of listening to people talk, 'bitching really..' about their problems and why no one had done anything about it before and what they will be doing about it now. The only saving grace about all this was that even though it was going to be a three day conference, the days would be spread apart.

Today, Monday, would be the first meeting. Then Tuesday the group would have to themselves. Wednesday a meeting, Thursday free, Friday would be the last meeting and Saturday they would be leaving for home. So at least the monotony would be broken up by doing...something fun, yes? Milla and Lili had bounced off some ideas for what they could all do on the off days. Some of the ideas sounded like a lot of fun; some sounded a little dull; yet much more promising than the conference. Raz spared a glance towards his mentor during this point.

Sasha didn't seem moved by any of it.

Raz half rolled his eyes. That was par for the course with Sasha. The only time the man actually looked interested in anything was when he was in his lab performing some kind of experiment… though he did seem to enjoy the times of the training exercises. Raz smirked a little. Sasha was all about the thrill of a challenge. Granted, this thrill wasn't the vocal or expressive thrill one would get if, oh, you were riding a roller coaster, but hey, to each his own.

A small yawn pulled Raz out of his thoughts and he glanced towards Lili.

"I think I'm gonna catch some 'z's while I can." She gave him a small smile.

"I think I like your idea and will steal it for my own." Raz grinned back at her, as the girl just rolled her eyes but gave him a playful punch on the arm.

She then proceeded to rest her head on the begoggled boys shoulder, a hummed murmur escaping her lips. Raz settled a bit more into the chair and rested his own head against the top of hers gently. Ten minutes later and both were passed out; snoozing soundly.

Milla looked up from the plane wrinkled magazine she been glossing over and found the picture that greeted her to be one of the most adorable things she'd seen in a while. She cursed her fortune that her camera was stowed away in her luggage. However, the longer she stared at them, the more the hypnotic suggestion to grab her own little catnap became more appealing. Setting the magazine down on the small coffee table between the four seats, and glanced over to her partner.

Sasha seemed engrossed in a science journal magazine from what she could see of the cover. Though the way the people on the cover were dressed suddenly reminded her of something. She smiled and settled back into her seat; looking at him out of the corner of her eye. A small hint of deviousness crept into her thoughts.

If Sasha noticed, he didn't say anything. He merely sat there, eyes glued to the page; taking a swig from a small cup of coffee.

'So, I was thinking something in plaid?'

Sasha emitted what could only be considered the cross between a choke and a snort into the cup of coffee.

Milla had to cover her mouth to stop the grin that wanted to spread across her face, and hold herself as still as possible so her shoulders wouldn't shake from the complete giggle fit she was desperately trying to quell. Sasha turned towards Milla, with what the woman knew had to be inspiration to the phrase 'if looks could kill.' She could also feel the barest flicker of what felt like hatred, not towards herself, but the mere idea of what she suggested.

'I'm joking, darling! I would never seriously ask that of you. You need to loosen up.'

Sasha's fixed gaze didn't waver from the other, almost as if he didn't believe her. After a moment however, he turned back to the magazine and seemed to let go of some small bit of tension he been holding onto.

'If you had your way you'd have me in polyester suits with flared cuffs and possibly bellbottoms.' Sasha's expression shifted ever so slightly from the neutral mask he normally held to that of thinking of something unpleasant.

'Oh you know you could work it, baby. Though I could just as easily pick up one of those flashy Mariachi outfits.'

'Are you deliberately trying to irritate me?'

'I am trying to get you to loosen up. I don't know what's making you so tense; what's got you so lost in thought?'

'And why do you feel I am 'lost in thought?''

'Darling, you've been reading the same page for ten minutes.' Milla gave him a look that clearly said she knew how he worked.

Sasha gave an audible sigh, though a small one, and gently leaned forward to place the magazine upon the same coffee table Milla had tossed her onto moments previous.

'It's not just one thing; it's a number of things.'

'Like? Sasha, darling, why haven't you said anything to me? You always come to me to be your soundboard.'

'Not always.'

'Almost always. I know you prefer to keep most of your ideas and thoughts to yourself, but you have come to me on several occasions regarding something that ends up bugging you… and I'm referring to all the non work related matters here.'

Sasha remained silent for a moment before responding.

'Right now is not the best time. I would rather discuss this after the conference talks.'

Milla gave her partner a look; one that implied he was attempting to dodge talking about whatever was pestering him.

'I am not avoiding the issue. I merely would rather-'

'Alright, darling. I won't bug you about it until after this week is over; but you need to promise me to lighten up a little; let your hair down a bit, Mister.'

'I'll do what I can.'

'Fair enough.' Milla gave him a smile.

Stretching for a moment, Milla settled back into her seat a bit.

'I'm going to get a little catnap in. If the stewardess comes by again I don't need anything.'

Sasha nodded, looking back over the files in his folder. He'd read them numerous times already; front to back, left to right. Each time he thought there might be a single detail he'd missed before, that would jump out at him and provide some significant identity or motive as to why these 'attacks' were happening and for what purpose. However, the longer he looked over the papers, the more the words began to blur and blend together.

He felt a sudden, though familiar, weight and warmth upon his shoulder. He shifted his gaze from the papers in front of him to his right; knowing what to expect. Milla had propped herself a bit against the seat, and a bit against himself. This was commonplace with them; had been for a number of years now. Sasha briefly reflected on the time she'd first used his shoulder as a headrest. He'd tensed up, and not wishing to disturb her - as she'd been through one hell of a tiring day that mission - he remained as still as possible; a not moved an inch until she'd woken up herself.

His back had been stiff the rest of the night after that. Yet it happened more often as missions began ranking up under their belts. Then there were time times she would loop her arms with his; still did that on an almost daily basis. There were also the few times when missions would send them to some swanky party and the two would have to blend in; the few times he'd actually danced with her without being coaxed into doing so. It had been for the mission, of course. Yet part of him knew those few times the woman treasured above all; though she'd never said it aloud. He just knew.

Milla Vodello… was something...altogether unclassifiable. An enigma of a woman, surely. Through the years, Sasha had seen so many sides of his partner, and yet he was certain there were still a few left yet to see.

Some of those, if not all, he was sure he never would.

It drove him crazy - though he'd never let on it did - but to know there was still a puzzle to solve or a riddle to figure out; yet knew it wasn't yours to do so with… it would be like walking into someone else lab and trying to run their experiment; without permission or direction. It still didn't alleviate the truth that it was infuriating. Perhaps the only part of himself willing to admit that, yes, he was being childish, and yes, he wanted to be the one to see these remaining sides.

Yet, maybe… hypothetically speaking… in all improbable likelihood… if there could be a way-

No. No and No. No, no, no. Just no.

Why?

God that question. So simple and so powerful at the same time. It was the question that got him into trouble all his life; got him right where he was now; how he thought, how he lived his life, how he acted.

'Why?' Always 'Why?'

'Why' do things work this way? Why don't we try this? Why can't this be perfected?

Why, why, why…

Why could he not admit? Why was he afraid?

Afraid of what exactly? His image being tarnished? His dignity being disgraced? His ego kicked?

Or was it deeper? A fear of… rejection? A fear of being so very wrong about… all these… mixed signals, coincidences, that touch more affectionate undertones, fussing and fawning.

Reading too much into something not there. Because… he wanted there to be something?

Sasha shifted ever so slightly back into his seat; his jaw clenched as he zero'd in on a particularly deep train of thought he tried to avoid when he was out in public. Avoid most of the time, really. Yet he was just as human as anyone else… and what had he spouted off to Razputin the very day the boy arrived at camp?

"If you try to completely suppress your undesirable feelings, they'll build and build and eventually explode."

Ah. Right.

A tap on the shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts; he could almost hear the mental slamming of a door to a room he was not meant to peek into. It also felt like his heart was beating just a little bit more quickly than it had been.

However, his outward appearance showed nothing of his currently mental state and he merely looked up to the source of the tap to his shoulder. It was the stewardess again.

"I'm sorry, Sir; I thought you were awake, I didn't mean to wake you up-"

"It is alright, I was merely… lost in thought."

"Oh, okay. I was just going to ask if you'd like another drink or any more snacks."

He mulled it over a moment. Coffee at this point seemed unappealing, and soda, while not his first choice, had caffeine. Juice didn't.

"What clear caffeinated beverages do you have?"

"We have Sprite, Ginger-Ale, and Seltzer-water." The woman smiled in reply; acting as if she'd heard this same question a hundred times before.

"I'll have the Ginger-Ale, thank you."

She passed him a chilled can from her cart.

"Would you like me to leave you a drink for your wife?"

"A Sprite, thank you."

Milla had said she wouldn't want anything for now, but Sasha knew she's appreciate the drink for later.

Once the woman had passed him the second can, she gave him a nod and proceeding onwards to give out refreshments to other passengers. Sasha had just popped the tab to his drink when what the stewardess had said completely registered. He paused. As it sunk in, it wasn't the shock of the girl mistaking Milla as his wife that surprised him; nor was it the idea of thinking that Milla could, and had on a handful of missions, play the part of his wife, but simply over the fact…

It had been so incredibly easy to accept. It had felt so natural. It felt… nice? No, too plain. Good? Better, but not by much.

A small smirk came to his lips as he leaned his head back against the seat.

'Wunderbar.'

~ x ~

A/N: Okay.. so there you go. Apologizes over the fact I've updated/edited this like, four times now. First few were grammar; but then I had to dial back a couple of years; I'm writing this fic out with certain ages and mind and jump then too far. I've got like, three different story ideas in my head, all at various times, so it got a little mixed up. Anywho, problem solved.