Original Days Chapter 10: History, a better days fanfic

Disclaimer: I don't own Better Days

Original days

Chapter Ten: History

A/N: Faithful readers, we are nearing the final stretch. Be warned, things are about to get heavy.

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Pain! That was all It could feel. Ever since the crash Its mind had been swamped by it, ravaged by it, CONSUMED BY IT!! Then It felt the hands, grabbing hands, pulling it from the wreck, putting it into something; A BODY BAG!! No, It was alive! It was-, suddenly someone bent down and whispered in it's hear "Don't worry sir, we'll get you out of here" and It calmed down, gathered itself. Mr. White smiled through the pain, Its pain. Soon they would feel it as well.

"Ouch!"

"I'm done; you can stop being a big baby now." Angela said, putting the medical supplies back where they went. "I still can't believe you didn't want any anesthetic while I put the stitches in." Jason shrugged at the remark, then instantly regretted it as the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through his body. "What can I say; I don't react well to stuff like that, especially alcohol."

After getting Jason back to the company both Fisk and Angela helped him to the private infirmary, another addition by Ryan. Doctors tend to ask bothersome questions, after all. Once there Angela began to examine his injuries. Aside from the bullet wound and the gash down the right side of his face, Which Angela said would leave a nasty scar; there was also moderate blunt trauma to the chest and shoulders from when he hit the ground, as well as minor lacerations on his face and neck from the broken glass. Overall, he was in surprisingly good condition. Angela's skills as a combat medic were more than sufficient.

While Jason was being worked on he told Fisk everything that he had learned while in the archives, and understandably, Fisk was eager to go there himself. Suddenly Angela interrupted their conversations. "If you're going to the archives could you wait a second while I close up? I haven't seen my uncle in a while and-" "Wait a minute," Jason exclaimed, "the old man's your uncle?"

"Yeah, though he's been more like a father to me, ever since my parents died in a car crash." The way she said this was calm and nonchalant, yet both Fisk and Jason could see the sadness that lay in her eyes, so they decided to just drop it. A moment later and she was ready to go.

"Uncle!" Angela called as they stepped into the crowded archives, Fisk looking around in interest and Jason absentmindedly, his thoughts more on what was to come.

"Angela!" Erik Faunts replied, emerging from somewhere in the back and heading their way. "And I see you brought the punk with you. That was great work out there defending the senator kid, good job. And this-" His gaze went to Fisk, and he immediately stopped talking, looking at Fisk like he was seeing a ghost. "Fisk Black?" Fisk nodded. "After my talk with Jason here, I didn't really think I would get to meet you. You look so much like your father."

Fisk looked down, unsure how to respond to that. So he asked the first question to come to mind. "Did you know him well?" "Indeed, he and I worked several missions together. He was a man I admired and respected." The tiniest hint of moisture appeared in Fisk's eyes. "What was he like?" Fisk asked, looking back up at Faunt with hopeful, almost desperate eyes. This was possibly his last chance to learn anything about his father; he wouldn't let it pass by.

Mr. Faunt motioned for them all to takes seats, as he took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, letting the nicotine and tobacco trick his mind into thinking everything would be fine. Finally he spoke. "The best words to use for James C. Black are that he was a good man. Yet at the same time they don't come close to describing him sufficiently. He was brave, reliable, kind normally yet able to just turn that off when he had a job to do. Above all else though, he believed in the potential of others, whether they were an ex-KGB agent coming to us for protection or a little boy in Egypt without a home." Now it was his turn to show a hint of moisture. "He was too good for this type of work. Too God-damn good."

"I just wish I knew for certain that he would be proud of me. Of the choices I have made, the things I have done." Hearing that the old Bat stood up and moved to a nearby desk, piled high with long-forgotten papers and folders. Fisk, Jason, and Angela all watched on with mounting curiosity as Mr. Faunt rummaged through the drawers, until finally, "Here it is." He then turned back around, and held out to Fisk a plain envelope, unopened and yellow with age. "This is from your father, Fisk. He entrusted it to me just in case anything ever happened to him. Take it."

With an imperceptibly shaking hand Fisk took the envelope, and for several seconds no one said anything as he slowly opened it. Inside were two objects; a letter, and a photo. Fisk gently set the photo facedown without looking at it; it would come later. He then unfolded the letter and began reading.

"Dear Fisk, if you are reading this than I am dead, and you probably have the same job I did. There are so many things I wish I could talk with you about, and so many moments in life I wish I been there for you during. Learning to ride a bike; learning to read; your first day at school, bringing your first girlfriend over for dinner; your marriage. But even though I will miss all of that, and more, I want you to know that I will always be proud of who you have become. Look after your mother and sister for me, and make sure that William stays out of trouble, okay?

With Love, your father.

Fisk reread the letter several times, and then carefully refolded it and put it in his pocket. Picking up the photo, he flipped it over and looked at it. It was a picture of his father and mother at their wedding day, with them lovingly holding hands while looking at the camera together. Near the bottom were scrawled the words "Wish I could be at yours" in his father's handwriting.

That was it; he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. After 10 years Fisk allowed himself to cry once again over not knowing his father. His mind went back to the first time the terribleness of not knowing his father had crashed down upon him, in front of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall. Only this time was so much worse it hurt, it hurt so much that he wished that he could rip his heart out, to stop feeling completely. But then he felt someone embrace him in a hug, and soft words of comfort entered his ear.

Eventually the flow of tears petered out, then stopped. Fisk dried his face with his sleeve, and looked up to the person who comforted him. "Thank you, Jason." All Jason said while going back to his own seat was "Don't mention it. Ever." After that Fisk quietly excused himself, saying that he needed to make a call. When he was gone Angela turned to Jason.

"Odd, you've never been that caring before." Jason looked hurt at the comment. "Well, I've never had family I liked before, so there!"

Elizabeth had just finished drying herself off after her shower when the main phone began to ring. Quickly wrapping a towel around herself, she hurried over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey dear, it's me." Elizabeth immediately perked up. "Fisk! I was beginning to worry about you. Will you be home soon?" Silence for a moment, then "Yeah, pretty soon. I was just calling to say…I love you."

"I love you too honey. Want me to go tell Janie that you love her?"

"Sure. I'll see you soon. Good night."

"Good night." And with that they both hung up. One went to read to their daughter, the other went to confront their worst fear.

When Fisk rejoined the group, Jason and Angela were arguing over preferred caliber or something like that, while Mr. Faunt sat a bit apart, smoking his cigarette in silent thought. Jason looked up and noticed that Fisk was back. "Hey Fish, want to go get some dinner? We really never had a lunch after all."

"In a bit. First, there is one last thing I need to speak to Mr. Faunt about." Faunt was shaken out of his thoughts when Fisk spoke his name, so he looked Fisk straight in the eye with a piercing gaze and asked "What do you need, kid?"

Fisk matched the gaze with one of his own, and asked "What can you tell me about William Hite?" Immediately the other three stiffened at the mention of the recently deceased killer, each thinking different thoughts about him. Angela thought "Traitorous scumbag." Jason thought "Madman…with a nice sense of fashion." But the elder agent had quite different thoughts, as his mind went back to a memory, of a nine year old boy glaring at him with the most piercing gaze, desperately seeking validation of his existence.

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, in which the only thing to be heard was the slight rustle of papers as the air conditioning blew on them, Faunt spoke. "I assume that the punk here already told you everything that I told him?" Fisk nodded. "Good, I hate repeating myself. Well then as you know, your father was tracking a stolen shipment of weapons when he first encountered Hite, though at that time his name was Asim. Because the size of the weapon shipment was too large for him to steal it back on his own, once he found them he was ordered to destroy them, which he did. This also resulted in the foreseen destruction of the building they were housed in; unforeseen, however, was that there were some people living in the building."

"Hite." Jason stated, to which Faunt nodded. "James found this out when he was approached by the kid at his hotel room. Taking pity on the boy, as well as quietly impressed by the skills he had shown in fighting and tracking, James decided to take responsibility for the boy." The next day they were both on a plane back to the States."

"Wow, you'd expect his superiors to be upset with him over something like that." Angela said, drawing their attention to her. "I mean, Ryan is a nice guy and all, but he would never allow an agent to do anything like that." Her uncle scowled, and put out the remains of his cigarette with a stomp of his shoe. "Yeah, well, things were different back then. Also, once they found out how intelligent he was, they were climbing over themselves to make him a weapon."

"Oh come on." This time it was Jason who spoke out. "I know that you need to be pretty smart to be a nuclear physicist, but how smart could he possibly be?" "Punk, on the plane ride to the States, he managed to learn how to speak English fluently and reached a 6th grade reading level. Considering before that he had never even heard any English before, I'd say he was pretty damn smart."

Jason, apparently unable to think of an adequate comeback, asked him to continue. "So want happened then?"

"Well, being the principled man he was, James would have none of it; he even threatened to quit if they went with their plans. Afraid of losing their best agent, they struck a deal. James would take care of and watch over Hite for the rest of his childhood, but once Hite turned 16 would allow him to work for them if that was his choice. No one was completely happy with the compromise, but nobody ever really is. That's how you know it's a compromise."

"How did Hite feel about all of this?" Fisk asked, feeling proud of his father in whole new ways after what he had heard.

"I'm not sure if he even knew of the deal. I do know, however, what he thought of your dad. He hero-worshipped him, held him in the highest regard. James taught him everything it meant to be an American, our history, our culture; even basic stuff like how to swim."

"Hite didn't know how to swim? Ha ha ha!"

"Punk, he grew up in a desert country. Why would he know how to swim!?"

"Okay, good point. Continue."

"Well, in short, he looked up to James like a son does to a father. He was even becoming a pretty nice kid, always with a helping hand and a witty comment; everyone in the headquarters loved him. Until your father died anyway." "Fisk looked at him with a guarded expression. "Why, what happened to him when that happened?"

"When that happened," Faunt said, eyes taking on a far-off look, "everything changed."

Flashback

It was raining, Erik Faunt noted as he stood there with the rest of the mourners. It would rain at every funeral he'd go to. As the preacher finished and the casket was lowered into the grave, mourners eventually started peeling away from the group, until there were only two people besides the diggers left. Eventually even they were finished filling in the hole and gone, leaving only a grieving ten year old boy and his new guardian.

"Do the clouds grieve for him as well?" the agent thought as he watched the way the raindrops fell on the boy kneeling in front of the gravestone. "Or is God giving us the chance to hide our tears?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the child before him spoke. "Mr. Faunt, why did he have to die?" Erik sighed in resignation. He really didn't want to give this speech. "Listen Will, sometimes bad things happen, people die, and there is nothing we can do abou-" "YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO SOMETHING THOUGH!!" William screamed, shooting up and turning to face the other person there. "YOU ALL SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO SOMETHING! YOU WERE THEIR BOSSES, HE TRUSTED YOU WITH HIS LIFE, WHY DIDN'T YOU KNOW!? WHY DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT HIS PARTNER WAS A TRAITOR?"

For the briefest of moments Erik was taken aback by the unbridled fury and despair in the boy's words, and then with a sick feeling in his heart knew that the boy was ruined. He held his head down in shame, speaking so softly that Hite could barely hear him over the sound of the falling rain. "You're right Will, we should have been more careful. We grew too confident in our security, and James paid the ultimate price for it." Hite seemed to calm down slightly after that, and resumed his kneeling position. "You didn't even capture the Communist bastard who did it. He is still out there, ruining someone else's life, keeping other children from ever knowing their fathers. That is all Communists are capable of doing, ruining things for other people." He looked back up at Erik with calm eyes, and for a moment Erik thought that he would be okay after all, until the next few words were spoken. "They must be exterminated, all of them. And anyone who helps them."

Standing up, William Hite stopped crying, and looked up at his guardian. Then he spoke four words that Erik Faunt knew in his gut would come back to haunt him. "Let me join you."

"After that day the higher ups in our organization, besides cutting all ties with the official government, also took an increased role in Hite's life, something he relished. They trained him to put to use all of his substantial talent and ability. He went on his first mission at 14, and at 16 was capable of fighting three other agents to a stalemate. He never failed a mission, and at 18 even began taking college courses, with missions on weekends and between terms. He got a doctorate in Nuclear Physics in two-thirds the time it takes most people, cementing his unofficial place as smartest agent ever. The directors considered him the perfect agent, the older agents respected his ability, and the newer agents all thought of him as some kind of hero. Until that mission; his last mission."

Fisk picked his slack jaw off the floor and asked "Why, what was his last mission?" "Yeah," Jason added, "it must have been pretty bad for everyone to change their opinion of him."

Faunt looked each of them in the eye, silently judging if they were capable of handling the knowledge, and in his eyes they say enough pain and anguish for a hundred people. He kept all of it from reaching his voice however when he gave one word as his answer, the name of a city that had been forever etched into history.

"Chernobyl."

They sat there, unblinking, unthinking. How could they think, when their minds, their souls, were so weighted down by the sheer horror that they were experiencing. Chernobyl, the Ukrainian city which in the spring of 1986 suffered the worst nuclear power plant disaster in history. Four hundred times more fallout was released there than had been released by the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima. 600,000 people had been exposed to radiation; men, women, children, their lives had been ruined forever. The thought that anyone could not only think of doing something that horrifying, but actually do it, nearly broke them.

Mr. Faunt seemed to have been expecting this reaction, as a moment later he blew a thick cloud of cigarette smoke into each of their faces, shocking them back to normal. Jason was the first to speak. "You let, I mean, someone like that, and the respec-, I mean, you let a monster capable of that live?"

"Punk, it's not what it seems. We-" "For God's sake, why would you even have a mission like that to perform in the first place!? What was wrong with you people?" Angela and Fisk could only agree, and waited for the old Bat to explain. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that." He pleaded. "The mission was only to slow down Russian nuclear reactor development, not blow them up! He was only supposed to tamper with it, make it inoperable! Instead he rigged the safety systems to turn off when they weren't supposed to."

Seeing the overwhelming guilt hidden in his face, they stopped to think about how long he must have kept it inside, unable to share it with anyone, and it was this that made them stop blaming him. Fisk had another question to ask though. "What happened once he got back to the States? I can't imagine that he got a warm welcome."

"It was just as you said, Fisk. Many of the less experienced agents quit, unable to handle that their idol would do something like that. The older agents refused to work with him, saying they didn't trust him to not view their deaths as 'acceptable losses'. Before things got too out of hand the directors 'politely' asked him to leave, which he did. And, well, that's that. He finished his degree, met a nice girl, and started his experiments. He's dead now, so none of it matters anymore." This got nods of agreement from everybody. Soon after that Jason once again suggested going to eat, to which Fisk said sure, seeing that it was about 7 o'clock by now and about that time. Halfway to the door though, his cell phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Fisk! Thank God you answered!" It was Tommy. "Tommy, what's wrong, what's happened?"

"It's Lucy, she's-" suddenly a piercing screech filled the air, and Tommy's voice turned into static. "What is that?!" Jason yelled over the screech, covering his ears and staggering to Fisk's side. Fisk was currently occupied with desperately trying to get his phone working again, so Jason turned to Angela. "It's our automated network defense system; it means that someone is trying to hack into our network! Fisk, your phone was hit by a weak EMP blast, sent out not take out all nearby portable electronic devises; it's not going to work for several hours." Giving up with the phone, Fisk yelled "Let's get topside, now!"

It was not long after they had reached the main floor when suddenly the screeching stopped, and everything except the red emergency lights went off. By this point many of the people around them seemed to be on the verge of getting the hell out of there, and Jason didn't blame them. "This means that the firewalls were unable to keep the intruder at bay." Angela explained, scanning the area for Ryan. Spotting him near the conference room with Church, she began making her way to him, the other two following close behind. As they walked she continued her explanation.

"As a last resort, the defense system cuts off all power to the building's mainframe. Can't hack into an inert piece of metal, right?" Before they could respond, and right as they reached Ryan, all of the TVs and computers switched back on, startling many of the confused company people. On every screen in the building a figure appeared, the figure of an unnaturally white-furred Cougar in a ripped and bloody white business suit, cracked white mask still in place. "Greetings, people of the company." Fisk and Ryan shared a look of alarm, while Jason proceeded to make every rude gesture he knew of to the screen closest to him. It was White.

"I am truly disappointed in the security to your network; it was pitifully easy to get into." He paused for a moment, looking off to the side, and then continued. "I truly wish that my renewed contact with the company could be conducted under more mutually pleasant circumstances, but it is of no importance. What are important; however, are the events that transpired six hours ago, when several agents, including one of your directors, prevented me from eliminating Senator Netton. I wonder, did any of you realize that he was going to ruin all of us? That Ryan Tobs and his cohorts were actually fighting so that Netton would be able to destroy you? Ignore the fact that he changed his mind after you saved him; you had no way of knowing he would do that. From this and the general lack of skill and willpower in the agents I have encoutered, I conclude that none of you are capable of doing what needs to be done for the good of the country anymore. Very disappointing; especially you, Fisk Black."

Fisk glared at the screen he was looking at, but it had no affect on the image, and White continued. "Of course, I am still capable of killing Netton, as well as every other pathetic excuse for a person in the city. I mean, because of the surgery I was in after the crash, I was away from my little reactor so long; who know what might happen now?" Then he smirked at them all through the screens. "Other than the creation of a rather significant crater, of course." Now people were really beginning to panic, with several rushing for the doors. The panicked voices rose so loud that Jason resorted to firing his gun to get their attention; just in time for White to start talking again. "Of course, Fisk Black is welcome to come over and try to stop me. In fact I happen to have a highly enticing reason for him to come, and her name begins with L." With that White stepped aside, and behind him, gagged and bound to a chair, was Lucy.

The room seemed to get several degrees colder, and everyone who knew Fisk began to feel very sorry for White. After a moment White stepped back into frame. "You have one hour, Black." And then he cut the feed. Everyone in the room turned to look to where Fisk had been standing, only to find him already heading for the door. Immediately three more people joined him; without looking he gave orders. "Jason, you fight with me; Angela, someone will need your medic skills afterwards; Church, you will tell me about everything that wasn't on the tour. Now let's move out."

A/N: Please don't hate me too much for including Chernobyl. In all honesty I really do believe that foul play of some kind was involved; no way was an event that catastrophic purely an accident. Next chapter will be similar to this one, yet also different.