Love is not a victory march

Summary:

In which Riley gets visitors, Will spies on Whispers, and Capheus gets a surprise.

"Baby I've been here before

I've seen this room and I've walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

And love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."

— From "Hallelujah", by Leonard Cohen (S2E1)


July 8, 2017

Riley was going about her morning routine making breakfast for everyone when she stopped in her tracks. The skillet and pancake batter lay on the counter, forgotten, as she backed into the fridge. A side-glance told Riley there was a visitor, and she reached for the bottle of Blockers she kept in her robe pocket in case of emergencies, but when she turned to look at the visitor's face, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mr. Hoy?"

"Haven't seen me in a while, have you?" he said with a hearty laugh. "I don' mean to frighten you. Jus' came to ask for somethin'."

She nodded.

"'S a rough time for the Archipelago. They're huntin' us down again."

"Who, BPO?"

"Aye, the Headhunters. You let the Cannibal go, didn't you?"

"How did you know?"

He chuckled and tapped a finger against his head. "You underestimate the power of networks, Riley Blue."

"We traded with BPO. Our Cluster-mate was captured. We had to get him back."

Mr. Hoy nodded. "Can't say I blame you."

"Is there anything I can—"

"The Sensates, they're disappearin' like mad. Ain't 'nuff Blockers to keep up."

She cringed and looked at the half empty bottle of black capsules in her hand. "Mr. Hoy, I'm not sure we have enough—"

"'s not the drug we need, lassie. I've just been thrang. Could use a wee bit assistance, makin' these Blockers, if you can spare a lad or two."

"Oh." Riley smiled in relief. "We have someone who can help. I'll ask her."


On the train ride to Scotland, Felix looked out the window, uncharacteristically silent as he reassessed his impression of a certain Indian woman for the third time. A now clean-shaven Wolfie had shared with him a series of anecdotes, most of which involved a member of the Cluster (often himself) in danger and Kala coming to their rescue, fire-a-blazing behind her as she produced bombs and watched shit explode.

"Fuck, Wolfie, she's a keeper," he'd told his friend.

Upon hearing that, Kala had smirked at Felix in a way that reminded him of Wolfie. Felix wondered if being a Sensate meant their personalities rubbed off on each other, too. The last thing he needed was for Wolfie to start lecturing him about science.

Wolfie and Kala sat opposite of him in their private compartment. If Felix weren't on the run from some batshit crazy organization trying to start a massacre, he'd have rejoiced at the prospect of traveling like a millionaire (courtesy of Nomi). The booze one could get on this train was to die for, but in his current mood, he didn't feel like drinking.

Felix watched Kala reach an arm behind Wolfie's back to fluff the pillows she'd put there. Wolfie turned to watch her, and when she finished, he pecked her on the forehead, smiling as he drew back and watched her blush. Felix hadn't seen Wolfie smile like that since he'd seen Felix wake up at the hospital after he'd been shot.

(Those fucking diamonds. Felix pushed the memory out of his mind, trying not to touch the place where the scars still marred his chest.)

"So, Scotland," he decided to fill the silence. Kala and Wolfie turned to him. "I always thought I'd go there on vacation, not when I'm on the run from psycho mass-murderers."

"You could have stayed in London," Kala replied archly. "Someone else could have come with us."

"Pfft." Felix leaned back and turned to his friend. "Tell her, Wolfie, have I ever stayed home and let you have all the fun and glory?"

"Only for the past year or so," Wolfie sided with Kala, who ooh-ed at the low blow.

Felix was starting to miss the days when Dani was the only one poking fun at him.

"You and your imaginary friends have had too many adventures without me," Felix said, pretending he wasn't bothered about the painful reminder of his lack of sensacity. "You're missing out."

Wolfie kissed Kala again before turning back to Felix with a shit-eating grin.

"Fuck you." Felix stood up and stepped past Wolfie's wheelchair. He made his way over to the compartment door and grabbed the handle. "You two,"—he gestured between them—"finish whatever you're gonna do before I come back."

They didn't.


Will's Blocker wore off before dinner.

He had decided to look around Whispers' mind before he fell prey to his invasion, and Riley was sitting next to him on their bed, Blocker at the ready in case he got caught. Holding her hand, he closed his eyes and felt her inject him with a small dose of heroin, just enough for him to reach the Headhunter's mind without triggering his addiction.

It wasn't difficult to locate the coldness Whispers' presence embodied in the Psycellium, but the challenge was to connect to it without being noticed.

I am looking for the Chairman, Will thought to himself as he suppressed a shiver. He was getting close. A memory of a conversation with the Chairman, where I can see his face.

Will had gathered that a Sensate felt others' emotions by the memories they triggered, which were then translated into a relevant and familiar sensation. Whispers' fear was a thin wall of ice surrounding his memory. The cold barrier could be easily broken, but the sharp corners still cut if Will tried to put a fist through it in his mind to see what was hidden. And the pain it brought would be no less insufferable than if Will had physically broken his hand: he'd learned that the hard way, the first time he pushed through to see Croome.

So when Will made out the ice around the darkness that surrounded Whispers' presence, he imagined a hand wiping away the frost gathered at the surface. Peeking through the barrier, all Will could see was more black. He hovered closer and made out a woman's voice echoing within the chamber. But the woman's tone was sharp, and her words cut cracks on the wall, which shook slightly upon Will's touch.

I want to see the Chairman's face, Will chanted in his mind again, but no images showed.

Then Will felt a firm arm on his shoulder, and a fiery sensation he knew too well engulfed them both—the embodiment of Lito. I think we should work around it, Lito thought in their shared consciousness.

Around what?

The woman makes him scared. I can feel it.

But how—

I can feel it because you feel it because he feels it because—you get the idea. But he's trying to hide it. He's lying. There's a reason he's lying. He doesn't want you to know she scares him.

Will tried to nod, his mind's eye bobbing up and down in his vision. Will felt Lito give him a pat on the shoulder before his fire vanished.

Show me the woman, Will thought instead, forehead pressing against the ice.

Blonde curls and steel blue eyes pierced through the semi-transparent layer of ice, and for a second Will suspected the woman could see him watching. She couldn't have, he reminded himself, because she was a memory. Something about the middle-aged woman brought forth another memory of piercing blue eyes glaring through the darkness. But Wolfgang's eyes had a softness beneath; hers were unrelenting.

Still, Will breathed a small sigh of relief at his success, his breath up the surface of the ice a little. He imagined a hand wiping at it to give him a clearer view.

"What evidence do you have that Croome is lying?" Will heard her ask. She had an impeccable London accent, but Will knew, because Whispers knew, that she was not from here.

The woman closed the cap of her black fountain pen and leaned back in her chair. The blinds were pulled up behind her, and Will could make out Southwark with all its tall glass buildings, the panels reflecting the sunlight.

"He had been listening in. Reporting back," Whispers said, in the voice that haunted Will's dreams. Will drew back from the ice slightly, reminding himself not to lean too close against it in case the Headhunter caught him snooping and tried to push back.

"To whom?"

"Our computer systems are not as secure as they appear," Whispers said. "The DNA census data has been disappearing. The deletion was a gradual process, but now it has been brought to my attention. People are infiltrating our organization."

The woman scoffed, and Will felt Whispers draw back slightly. The corners of her dark red lips quirked up for a second. "Our organization, Milton?"

"Your operations cannot be completed without me," Whispers reminded her.

"It was Angelica Turing's theory, if I'm not mistaken, that inspired the prototype for the Reciphorum?"

"But the Traceworks—"

"Would not have been completed without her research."

He was seething, but she watched him stir in his chair, lips pursed. "You cannot hunt down the August 8 Cluster without me, Veronika."

Veronika tutted her tongue upon hearing her name, suppressing her annoyance at his audacity. "That may be." Her voice was calm, unfazed. "But you are in no position to bargain, after your complete failure at the Iceland facility."

Will knew Whispers' veins were bulging as he resisted his temper. "I am aware."

She gave him a stern nod. "Until my men have gathered concrete evidence of Croome's actions against my orders, you will do as he says."

"Understood." Then Whispers got up from his seat, and Will felt the lens from which the memory was viewed move upward before Whispers looked down at Veronika again. "May I suggest a search of his office? "

She raised an eyebrow, and Will knew Whispers was smirking. "What would I be looking for?"

"Tracking devices, perhaps." Whispers suggested. "A personal relic would make a perfect disguise."


Mr. Hoy wasn't the only surprise visitor Riley had that day.

"Foolish girl," a familiar Icelandic voice echoed behind Riley as she was about to climb up the stairs. "You're going to get your Cluster killed."

Riley jumped and would have fallen if it weren't for Will holding her in place.

"Yrsa?"

"The woman from Iceland?" Will asked, looking in the same direction. He had started taking Blockers before bed in case Whispers tried to deduce the location of their new hideout. "What did she say?"

"She thinks we're all gonna die," Mavis explained as she walked over from the kitchen and gave Yrsa a wave. "Evening, Mother. You're looking well."

Yrsa breathed an exasperated sigh, and Will looked between Riley and Mavis, and then glanced at the space where he thought Yrsa must be. "Mother?"

"Right! Haven't told you her name. Silly me." Mavis leaned against the wall next to the staircase, gesturing between Will and the empty space. "Will, Yrsa. Yrsa, Will."

Will opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Sun walked over from the living room and raised her eyebrow when she found Riley and Mavis looking at a visitor she could not see. Riley gave her a nod, and she walked back to her position silently, knowing she would be debriefed later.

"I should have known you were involved," Yrsa said to Mavis, ignoring Will.

Mavis smirked. "I thought you weren't talking to me anymore."

"Why wouldn't she be talking to you?" Riley asked, turning to Yrsa.

"It was terribly naïve of you to think you can fight and win against BPO," Yrsa spoke to Mavis, her gaze stern as she gestured at Will and Riley. "Have you no idea you are endangering this Cluster?"

"Uhh, I don't think I'm the one putting them—"

"Foolish child. And your own Cluster, too. Are you so willing to risk—"

"I'll have you know, Yrsa," Mavis' voice shook as she crossed her arms and stepped forward. "That I have everyone under Veracity protection. Which you would know if you haven't been hiding for the last two years!"

Yrsa sighed. "I did what I had to do."

"Well"—Mavis swallowed to steady her voice, before looking at Riley and a completely baffled Will. "So did we."

Riley beckoned Will over and whispered what Yrsa had said. He nodded before putting a hand on Riley's arm, pulling her closer. Yrsa observed the exchange between the two of them with a frown.

"In wars, there will always be loss," Yrsa said, more to herself than to the people she was visiting, gazing at the space behind them.

"Jonas said the same thing," Riley said, recalling what Sun had told them.

"Jonas should know that more than most," Yrsa said. "I'm surprised he's still willing to cooperate with Veracity after what happened with Angelica."

"You know Jonas?" Riley asked. "Then why did you say he couldn't be trusted—"

Next to Riley, Will sighed as he put the pieces together. "You didn't want us to get involved."

Riley's eyes widened. "You worked for Veracity. You were erasing the DNA data."

"I did," Yrsa admitted.

"What changed?" Riley asked.

Yrsa shook her head and sighed, not wanting to divulge. But there was a hint of emotion flickering on and off between their connection. Riley felt a passion intermingled with warmth. A familiar sensation—she'd often felt that way around Will. She smiled, relishing in the personal memories this feeling had brought.

Before Riley knew what was going on, she had latched on to the impression of whatever memory Yrsa had tried to repress, and she was looking at a strawberry blonde, green-eyed woman. The woman's hands caressed her face, but her fingers didn't quite graze her skin: the memory felt foreign like she was experiencing the woman's touch through a mask.

Just as Riley was about to open her mouth and ask where she was, she shifted out of the body she was inhabiting and watched on the side as a younger, happier version of Yrsa smiled and kissed the other woman.

"Wars are not worth the risk. I know now." Yrsa's voice brought Riley back to the present.

The older woman narrowed her eyes at Riley. Mavis was gawking beside her, wide-eyed, muttering woah under her breath.

What? Riley thought to Mavis.

That, Mavis replied, was freaking impressive.

"You loved her." Riley looked at Yrsa sheepishly, trying to suppress her guilt at accidentally finding the woman's memory.

"I wish we'd never gotten that far," Yrsa admitted.

"I'm not sure I agree." Riley thought about Magnus. The scars his death had left on Riley had never fully healed, but she could never imagine giving up the memories they'd built.

In the back of Riley's mind, unfamiliar voices echoed like long lost memories.

"They're still alive, Yrsa, I know they are." The woman's voice had a musicality to it, and the inflections of every word sounded like a wistful melody. Riley knew, somehow, that it belonged to the strawberry blonde-haired woman. "They're keeping them hostage. I just have to find them."

"Please be careful," Yrsa said.

"I remember what the facility looks like. What I need to do shouldn't take long."

At the sight of Yrsa's pursed lips in the present, Riley felt the synapses in the Psycellium ripping away, fading, detaching Riley's mind from Yrsa's. The pain upon the separation wasn't sharp, but the lingering emptiness echoed in the space where the connection used to be, getting louder every time Riley—Yrsa—tried to reach out with the tendrils of her own mind, hoping to feel something.

"I wish I hadn't gone that far. I wish I hadn't been given time to fall in love," Yrsa explained, "because, unlike love between Sapiens, love between Sensates has far more dangerous consequences. And my selfish desire to love had killed us all."

"Is that how Clusters are born?" Riley asked.

Yrsa nodded. "Most of us are products of love. Sensate children are much the same. But as a Sensate, love is a death sentence. By falling in love, by birthing more Clusters, we had doomed our children."

"I'm not sure I agree with that, either." She thought of her life before she connected with Will. In retrospect, it wasn't much safer. It may have been a step up from having an entire organization chasing after her, but even after a year on the run, fearing for the life she finally decided she still wanted, Riley had cherished every second she had with Will.

Mavis, presumably having read Riley's thoughts, nodded nearby as she fiddled with the bracelet she always wore.

"I know you don't," Yrsa told Riley. "Which is why I can't help you."

Before Yrsa could leave, Mavis stepped forward and tackled Yrsa into a hug, nearly knocking her back with the force of it. "I'll try not to die, Mother," Mavis reassured. "I've survived this long, haven't I?"

"You have," Yrsa conceded.

Mavis let go and turned to Riley and Will. "Well, so have they. Have a little faith in us."


Will had always been a light sleeper. Riley knew this since they began living together. He'd jump out of bed at the slightest sound she made, ready to tackle what he thought was an attacker. She'd laugh, but she'd always remind herself to be quieter next time. That night Will turned as Riley slipped into bed next to him, making the old mattress creak. She gasped, thinking she had woken him. He shook his head and inched closer.

"I wouldn't give it up for anything," he told her. Riley had informed him, and Sun and Dani who was on guard duty, all that Yrsa had said.

Riley stroked his hair. "Give up what?"

Will smirked, knowing she just wanted him to say it. "You. Us." He moved forward to peck her on the lips. "Being a Sensate. God, I can't even remember being unborn."

She cringed. "I remember the migraines."

"Right. That wasn't fun."

She laughed. "But it was worth it," she confessed as she reached down to pull the unzipped sleeping bag, their makeshift blanket, over both of them.

He responded by kissing her again, his nose crinkling slightly as their lips touched. When he pulled away, he opened his eyes, taking in her smile. He responded with a smile of his own before turning away to lie in a fetal position. She embraced him from behind.

"Good night, Will," Riley mumbled in his ear and saw him frown.

"We haven't gone on a date," was his response.

That made her laugh. "I think everywhere is closed now."

"Not today," he said with a yawn, and she reached over to kiss him on the cheek, noting to herself that he needed another shave. She'd take care of it tomorrow, she thought as her fingers ran across his cheek, the coarse stubble scratching her skin.

"Why were you thinking about this?"

"Because"—Will inched back slightly, so her chest was against his back, and he could feel her heartbeats—"tonight Lito was telling me about this restaurant he and Hernando went to on their first date, and I got hungry."

"I can make something if you want."

"Mm, no." Will mumbled, eyes closed now, shifting his head so that it burrowed deeper into his pillow. "It should be my treat. You're always cooking."

"I don't mind cooking."

"I know you don't." He turned his head back a little so she could see him, more or less. It was hard to tell with his eyes closed. "But I should"—he let out another yawn—"I should do something for you. And we haven't been on a date."

"You're right, we haven't," Riley conceded, smoothing his hair back with her hand, a trick she knew worked better than any lullaby.

"I'll find you somewhere nice," he promised before he drifted off.

Will was the first person who made her believe she was worth saving. (After Magnus, she thought with a pang, but the pain had faded somewhat since she'd met Will.) Will had put his faith in her at the Iceland Facility. Faith that Riley, at the time, didn't believe she deserved. But because of Will, Riley had decided to spare her own life. She loathed to think what would have happened had he not been there to stop her.

And now?

Maybe it was the nature of their connection, but every time they got away from the clutches of BPO under Whispers' watchful eyes, Riley grew a little more optimistic about her future. Their future.

Will was a fighter, that much was clear. He still believed he could save everyone despite all the times he had been proven wrong on his job. And Riley knew how many times he had broken from lost hope. Unlike her, he could never hide his nightmares, and at the end of the day, it was his innocence that made Riley fall in love a second time.

"I love you, Will," Riley said as she watched his chest rise and fall. He didn't respond, but he smiled, snoring gently.


July 9, 2017

Lito watched from across the kitchen table as Mavis logged on to her email from Nomi's computer, typing out a series of codes to override all kinds of protection protocols set in place to encode her communication. She'd learned it from one of the Veracity hackers she worked with during her training, she told them, tilting her chin up as Nomi nodded in approval—the perfect disguise for a young Sensate trying to impress.

Identity was but a costume, the designer from Kit Wrangler's party had said. (Lito didn't even remember his name; the entire memory of the party was a blur). Mavis seemed able to shed one identity for another, as evidenced by the night she'd gone to Soho when she'd put on an air of sophistication with a black dress and a blonde wig. Lito was both curious to see what else she could become and nervous about what her skills implied.

"Ooh, new message." Mavis leaped from her chair, and her shell of professionalism vanished, leaving behind the core of an excited twenty-one-year-old on her first big mission.

"Your Cluster-mate?" Will, too, sat forward in his seat.

Mavis nodded before she turned back to skim the email.

"Is that the Portuguese?" Will asked.

"Brazilian," Mavis corrected, turning back to face Will. "But it's not him, it's someone else. And she says the professor she's working with is attending this convention thing abroad…" She looked at the email again, ignoring Will, who had opened his mouth to ask another question. "Huh, she says he's in Chicago, apparently. Sounds fishy. Lots of crazy stuff happening in Chicago."

"Wait a minute, her professor?" Amanita interjected.

"Oh yeah, she's in college. She got this internship at UCL this summer though, and she's working with this neuroscientist who's kind of a big deal. And she thinks—and I'm gonna agree with her because she's freaking smart and she's usually right about these things—that this scientist guy might be working with BPO."

"Are you sure it's safe for your Cluster-mate to be so high-profile?" Nomi asked.

Lito crossed his arms and huffed, pretending to be offended.

"Not like you, Lito," Nomi quickly amended. "Your status is a good cover."

Mavis shrugged. "None of us knew when this feud or whatever you wanna call it with BPO would end. We may as well try and live a little. Those of us who can afford to, anyway."

"Are you sure she hasn't been found out?" Sun asked.

"I'd say she probably hasn't."

"Why?" Sun asked.

"Because"—Mavis drawled, puffing out her chest dramatically, and Lito was reminded of the times he passed on new knowledge to Hernando for a change, the smugness of it all—"she's always on Blockers, and her birthday is registered as the first of July."

"Is that legal?" Will asked.

"She was adopted from Kenya." Mavis smirked. "They couldn't pin down her exact birth date with a medical test. So… first of July."

Capheus stopped in his tracks on his way to rinse out his coffee mug. "When was your birthday again?" he asked Mavis, his brows furrowed.

"June 6th. Why?"

Lito saw Capheus' hands shake, though Capheus tried his best to suppress it. Capheus set the cup down on the counter. He might've ended up breaking it otherwise.

Riley turned to look at the Cluster, and all of them turned to Capheus, eyes full of hesitant anticipation. Hernando and Dani were looking at each other, frowning. Lito met their eyes and nodded slowly, giving them an "I'll explain later" look.

Mavis tilted her head to look at all of them. "Okay, you people are scaring me. What's wrong with my birthday?"

Capheus took a deep breath. Lito guessed he was going to ask anyway if only to eliminate the slightest possibility. "Your Cluster-mate. What is her name?"

"Grace." Mavis said, then added, "Her original name is Kiira. It's Kikuyu. Her parents kept it as her middle name. It's what we call her—"

Capheus was leaning against the fridge for support now. "Kiira?" he asked to make sure he heard correctly.

Mavis nodded. "Why, do you know her?"

Everyone in the Cluster did, but knowing was an understatement. In their collective memory, Kiira was still the small bundle of giggles and big hopeful eyes. They were all aware Capheus still cried about the day they gave up his sister on bad nights.

Lito had often shed the tears in Capheus' place. One night, months ago, Lito had sobbed so hard in his sleep, he had woken up and hugged a baffled Hernando and Dani in the middle of the night. They didn't need an explanation to know he was hurting.

When Hernando would ask him about that night in the future, long after their struggles in London were nothing more than bittersweet memories, Lito would explain to his partner that he had grieved because he had dreamed of the moment Capheus' sister left her mother's arm, like the pain was his own. And he had heard Shiro's crestfallen voice, a voice that carved a hole in their hearts.

Goodbye, my Kiira*.


*So Kiira is a Kikuyu name that means dawn, and I think that's beautiful. :)

A/N:

Dun dun dunnnnn WHAT A TWIST! I might be busy again for the next few days so hopefully this will hold you over for a while :)