Thank you to everyone who read/favorited/followed this story. I really appreciate the support. You guys make me feel validated.
And a big thank you to LittleGee and TARDISbluecolor for reviewing
Disclaimer: I don't own Misfits, but wouldn't it be cool if I did. Any familiar dialogue/elements are taken from the show.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is part 2 of what was initially chapter 35. Some of it is the same, especially near the beginning, but the end is TOTALLY different. Hopefully you like it and I've gotten out of my writing rut.
P.S. TARDISbluecolor, thank you so much for your lovely review! I'm really glad you like the story and hope I continue to do justice to comments like yours.
Chapter 36 – Level Up
Fuzzy. She felt fuzzy. And there was a sort of ringing in her ears as well as a sharp pain radiating from the back of her skull. All of the sudden all those cartoons where the birds fly around your head made a sort of sense. Izzy had always hated those birds, even when she was a kid. Where did they come from? Where did they go afterwards? It was probably stupid for an eight-year-old to question the logic of cartoon, head-trauma-induced birds, but that was type of kid she was—the type who found out Santa Claus wasn't real far too early and ended up ruining it for the rest of the class.
The ringing in her ears just wouldn't go away, and it began to sound vaguely familiar. It was the 'Doctor Who' theme song blasting from the phone she had lodged in her back pocket. Gradually, that fog surrounding her brain began to dissipate, and her mind began to regain some degree of clarity. Pieces of disjointed memory began to slide back into place, like a jigsaw puzzle about to be solved. Once it all came together, Izzy was left with an image she didn't quite care for.
Fuck, she had been kidnapped—she had been kidnapped and she had a concussion. Why hadn't her power worked? She it had worked all those times before—except when something was fucking with it. Maybe it was because she hadn't realized that he was there, that in that particular moment she hadn't felt threatened. Great, now she was in the same boat as Curtis—the whole 'it doesn't work like that' situation. Well at least she would only be getting herself killed with this nonfunctional power bullshit. Why did the bastard have to be so fucking sneaky?
Izzy blinked slowly, opening her eyes and readjusting to the light as it stabbed at her eyes. Wincing at the cold sting, she force her eyes open to take in the scene. She was in that meatpacking warehouse, but the guy hadn't decided to stage another fucking tea party like he did with Kelly. No, she was strung up from the ceiling like a slab of meat, her arms aching under her own weight.
"Are you fockin' awake yet?" an angry voice said from somewhere on her left. "Ya nap longa than my gran."
Izzy didn't recognize the voice. Everything still sounded so strange to her. Groaning loudly, she lifted her head, which felt heavier than usual, and looked in the voice's direction. Kelly was hanging there was well, still dressed in that ridiculous wedding dress. Izzy shot her a weak smile. "Kelly, you look absolutely beautiful," she managed to rasp out. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've gotten you an engagement present if only I'd known. You were registered for a blender, right?"
Kelly glowered at her. "Shut op!"
"You're glowing, really," Izzy said, laughing lightly. "It must have been quite the whirlwind romance. I can't believe that you didn't invite me. Friends should be there for such big life transitions."
If Izzy was hung any closer, Kelly probably would have tried to some sort of bodily harm to her. Even now she was kicking her legs a bit in frustration. "When we get out o' this I'm gonna batta ya!"
"You look like a meringue if it was attacked by like a shitload of shaving cream."
"I said shut op!"
"You look like you're auditioning to be a sugar plum fairy in the local ballet."
"I swear I'm gonna—"
"Say bibbidi-bobbidi-boo five times fast."
"Are ya done yet?" Kelly shouted angrily.
"Almost," Izzy shot back he smile growing. "I was going to so this whole bit about seeing the bride before her wedding….I've got a few more jokes in my pocket."
"Well then just leave 'em there, yeah?" Kelly growled angrily. "Stop bein' such a dickhead."
"Being a dickhead is kind of a preexisting condition for me."
Izzy sighed and swung her feet back and forth a bit. It was a strangely surreal feeling, not being able to touch the ground. She almost wanted to be unconscious again. At least that way her arms wouldn't hurt so fucking much. And then there was her head. She could feel the blood beginning to crust over and crack as she her neck twisted. "Where is the prick?" she asked bitterly. "He fucked up my hair."
" 'E's outside in 'is car. 'E's got all sorts of shit in that fing. One second 'e's pullin' out another gun, the next 'e's got this fockin' wedding dress. I fink I saw some goddamn nunchucks in there." Kelly started shouting obscenities at the empty warehouse before letting out a yell of frustration and turning back to Izzy. "Are the othas awright?"
Izzy tried to shrug in response, but the searing pain in her shoulders reminded her that that wasn't exactly possible at the moment. "As far as I know. They're robbing a bank so they can give him the money he wants. Hopefully after that he'll just…let us go." Izzy blew out a long breath and glanced around, looking for any possible escape route. There wasn't one. "This is nice," she said suddenly in a light, sarcastic voice. "The two of us haven't gotten to hang out for a while now. Get it? Hang ou—"
"Yeah, I fockin' got it."
There was a loud banging noise at the other side of the warehouse—the sound of a door slamming. Izzy felt a fleeting moment of hope that was dashed as soon as it appeared. The mental guy walked quickly and quietly towards them, that same gun still in his hand. Izzy could see a bit of blood staining the handle—her blood. The dick had pistol-whipped her.
"You're friends are here," he said in that same, monotone voice of his. "They better have my money, or your brains will be painted over the walls."
"Who wrote the dialogue for this video game," she muttered to Kelly. "It's seriously clichéd."
Kelly huffed loudly and shook her head derisively. "If we bof live through dis, I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya."
"No you won't," Izzy grumbled back. "I'm fucking delightful."
About a minute later the door opened again, and Simon, Curtis, Alisha, and Nathan all slowly walked in. Simon had something in his hand—a metal briefcase or something. Holy shit, they had done it. They had actually robbed a bank. Successfully. The level of competence they were displaying was actually a bit frightening. That is, until they all walked off in the wrong direction. Izzy's eyes closed involuntarily when she heard the guy cock the gun.
"You better have my money, Conti," he said in a deadened tone.
The others slowly turned around to face them. When Nathan's eyes fell on Izzy his jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he seemed to lapse into an uncoordinated panic. "Jesus, Izzy are you alright?" he shouted anxiously, rounding on the others before he got a response. "What did I tell you? I said if she wasn't answerin' her phone somethin' must have happened! I knew we shouldn't have let her go off on her own like that. But, nooooooo—"
"I'm fine!" Izzy shouted, trying to break him out of the spiral he seemed to be headed down. "Seriously, I'm good. Let's just get this shit over with so we can all go home. How does that sound?"
"Me arms are fockin' killin' me in case anybody gives a shit," Kelly spat bitterly.
"Slide it over," video game guy insisted, still staring daggers at Simon. Nodding, Simon placed the case on the floor and crouched down next to it, giving it a hard push. It only went about a third of the distance. Looking sheepish, Simon moved forwards and gave it another push. Again, it only went about a third of the way. Jesus, it was like she was watching a fucking terrible parody of 'The Godfather' or something. It was fucking embarrassing.
Finally Simon just picked up the case and closed the distance between him and the video game guy, popping the thing open and revealing the money. Then the guy's head sagged and his shoulders drooped, like he was a robot powering down. Izzy let out an internal scream of victory. That had to be it, right? The bloke had completed his mission, it was over. But then, after a few moments, the shoulders straightened and the head lifted again. Fuck. The guy had fucking rebooted.
"Is it true?" he asked out of nowhere.
Simon, who was still crouched near the money, far, far too close to the guy, blinked in incomprehension. "Is what true?" he asked stupidly.
"You know what I'm talkin' about. Don't play games with me, Conti."
"Well isn't that fucking ironic," Izzy muttered, snorting a little too loudly given the circumstance.
"Ugh, he talks dis bollocks all the time!" Kelly shouted in frustration.
"Fat Tony says you've got an undercover cop in your organization," the guy continued.
"See that's why I don't play computer games," Nathan hissed loudly. "Because they never bloody end!"
The guy took a few steps forward, looming over Simon whose face morphed into a mask of fear. "Who's the cop?" he demanded coldly.
Simon swallowed so heavily Izzy could see his Adam's apple bobbing from half-way across the room. "Noone?" he replied, his voice sounding more like a question than a statement.
Without another word the guy raised his hand and struck Simon across the head with the butt of his gun, as she assumed he had done to her, causing him to crumple to the ground. Izzy squeezed her eyes shut and winced. Now she got to witness what happened to her.
Inside of five minutes the rest of them were strung up next to her and Kelly, hands bound and feet dangling. The bloke stared up at them. "I'm goin' to my car to get a chainsaw…and when I get back you're goin' to tell me which one of you is the undercover cop." Then he swung his head around and marched out the door.
"Nice one!" Kelly growled angrily. "Brilliant fockin' rescue!"
"No chance of a rewind, then?" Nathan asked, leaning forwards and staring in Curtis's direction. "Get your boyfriend to sort it out!" he shouted at Alisha.
"Uh, he's not my boyfriend," Alisha spat back.
"We split up," Curtis added angrily.
"Huh," Nathan said thoughtfully, eyeing Alisha. "So you're available then?"
"Not to you!"
"Hey, I wasn't askin' for me!" Nathan replied, sounding mildly offended. "I've got other options! Better, more flexible options!"
"Wot da fock do ya mean 'more flexible'!" Kelly shouted loudly.
Izzy stared straight in front of her, determined to stay out of that particular conversation. Now they really needed an escape route. She hadn't looked too hard earlier seeing as they had a plan already, but now that that was all shot to shit, they needed options.
"Where's that prick in the mask when you need him!?" Curtis snapped in frustration. Izzy was beginning to think much the same thing when her thoughts were interrupted by a loud grunting noise. She leaned forwards to see Nathan thrashing about like epileptic shark, trying to flip himself off of the hook and swore under her breath. If that was the best they could come up with, they were all fucked.
Izzy was just beginning to write her own eulogy in her head when suddenly—out of thin air—someone else appeared. It was that girl from the flat they broke into a few weeks ago. She turned around slowly and saw them, her eyes widening in confusion.
"Why are you all hanging from meathooks?" she asked incredulously.
"To improve our fucking circulation," Izzy shot back sarcastically. The girl glared at her for a second before turning to Curtis, who she had apparently become rather familiar with.
He made a face and probably would have shrugged his shoulders if he had proper use of his arms. "This is some of the weird shit I was tellin' you about."
"Isn' dat the girl whose flat we broke into?" Kelly whispered, making Nathan wrinkle his nose guiltily.
"The new guy's heart got transplanted into her," Curtis explained. "She's got his power now."
"I didn't know this sort of shit was transferable," Izzy mumbled.
"I guess it makes sense," Nathan mused.
His voice attracted the girl's attention, and her expression which had pretty much been characterized by confusion morphed into one of boiling rage. "You!" she growled angrily, moving towards him.
"Hi!" he said, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry about…er…you know…"
"Shitting in my bed?" she supplied, practically spitting in anger.
"Yeah," he said smugly. "Wrong flat."
Izzy groaned and rolled her eyes. "While this little reunion is all heart-warming and shit, I think we should sort out our fucking priorities here."
The girl blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"
"I think you're supposed to rescue us!" Simon said urgently, having apparently regained consciousness.
The girl nodded and rushed over to the chains, yanking at them. She wasn't quick enough, though. Before she could find the right one, the sound of the door opening rang throughout the warehouse.
"Get out," Curtis hissed, jerking his head to indicate that she should leave.
"I can't just do it whenever I want!" she said defensively.
Izzy could practically hear the collective eye roll. "Right," Nathan drawled out sarcastically. "That would be way too convenient and useful."
The mental guy marched towards them, chainsaw in one hand and gun in the other. When he saw the new girl, he paused for a moment, head twitching a bit like he had glitchy software. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The new girl stared down the barrel of the gun he was holding and let out a shaky breath. "That's complicated," she murmured. Within minutes her hands were bound and she was being fit with her own personalized meat hook. Did that mean she was part of the gang now? This hazing ritual was certainly fucked up enough for it.
"You need to tell him you're the undercover cop!" Simon whispered suddenly, looking at Nathan. "If he kills you it doesn't matter!"
A pained expression crossed Nathan's face. "That's easy for you to say! You're not the one who has to be dismembered with a chainsaw!"
Izzy bit her lip and stared down at the mental guy, who was hooking the new girl's hands to a chain and beginning to hoist her up next to them. Fuck. She had to do something. Time to nut up or shut up.
"I'll do it," she said with determination. "I'll tell him I'm the undercover cop."
Nathan's head snapped around to look at her. "Are you fuckin' serious? Why would you do that?"
"I've got the best power for it," she said nodding as she worked out her thought process. "He comes at me, I blast him, grab his gun—done and sorted."
Nathan let out a disbelieving scoff and shook his head. "Yeah, 'cause your power worked so well first time around."
"I wasn't expecting him then," she whispered urgently. "The force field didn't help because I didn't know he was there—I didn't feel threatened. Now I feel pretty fucking threatened. And how do you think you'll manage it? We don't know if you'll be able to reassemble all your appendages and shit if he hacks you to bits. You're not a salamander, Nathan. All those bits might not necessarilygrow back."
It seemed like a fair enough plan—the prick would get his comeuppance and nobody gets sawed to pieces—but Nathan didn't seem all that satisfied with the reasoning. His jaw twitched and he shook his head. "Nah, man. I know how fond you are of all my lovely appendages but there's no way I'm lettin' my girlfriend sign herself up to get shot at."
Izzy felt her muscles clench as a sudden blanket of silence fell over all of them. He had called her his girlfriend. It was the first time either of them had called each other anything, actually. Curtis, who was busy apologizing to new girl, whipped his head around and gaped at them. "Girlfriend? What the fuck—the two of you are together now? How the fuck did that work out?"
"I fockin' knew it," Kelly said, a weird element of smug self-satisfaction in her voice.
Alisha didn't say anything at all. She just looked at Izzy like she had lost her mind.
"Is it true?" Simon asked in a quiet prodding voice.
Shit. This is just what she wanted to avoid—all the questions and expectations and theories. As soon as people know about relationships, that's when they become real. As long as they're quiet they can stay in that sort of 'trial run' category where you get to figure things out, but when other people find out you're put into this box where they impose they're rules….you have to define the relationship. And of course it was happening at the most fucking inconvenient time possible. A wave of terror shot through Izzy, but then she glanced over at Nathan and it evaporated. He stared back at her somewhere between apologetic and completely insecure. Izzy looked at him and thought about that picture she had found, and then she felt something she had never felt before in the whole of her life: certainty.
"Yeah," she said loudly. "Nathan's my boyfriend. We're involved, together…whatever the fuck you want to call it. Except 'dating'—that sounds too fucking lame. And we're really fucking happy about it so if I hear any shit from any of you, I will kick your arse so hard it'll end up looking like cottage cheese. Do any of you have a problem with that?" She glanced over at Nathan, who was looking a bit smug and rolled her eyes. "So now that you lot have become acquainted with my sex life, can we focus on the task at hand? Because unless you've forgotten one of us is about to be dismembered."
As if on cue, the engine of the chainsaw roared to life, reminding them all that there was a very clear and present threat. Not that there was really anything they could do about it. The guy walked up to Alisha, hauling her off the hook. All of them began pleading with him, begging him to stop.
"Leave her alone!" Izzy shouted. "It's m—"
"Wait, wait, wait," Nathan said, that pained look returning. "It's me. I'm the undercover cop. So fire up the chainsaw and get with the sawin', and I'd appreciate it if you did it quickly and cleanly an—"
The guy glanced over at Nathan, taking in his 'confession', but Curtis had other ideas. He kicked the guy hard in the face, shouting for Alisha to run. She took off, sprinting out of the room. It didn't take long for the guy to recover his senses and stride out after her, gun raised.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" Izzy demanded, panicking.
"I was savin' her life!" Curtis shouted back.
"How! How the fuck did you save her? He's still after her and he's still got a gun. We're still stuck up here and can't do a fucking thing about it if he catches her!" Izzy took a deep breath and fell silent. She knew Curtis was trying to help, but all he had managed to do was royally fuck everything up. And she was stuck hanging there, powerless, and left with the knowledge that Alisha was running right in the direction of that fucking can of petrol.
She came back though. About fifteen minutes Alisha appeared through that same door with a tear-stained face and story that sounded to Izzy like total bullshit. Her face had an expression on it—one that looked like resignation. And she smelled like petrol. And smoke.
Soon enough they were all free, their feet back on the ground. The lot of them walked out of the warehouse and piled into the car. They still had to get the fucking thing cleaned. None of them said much when they drove to the hospital to drop off Kelly or while they scrubbed down the car. Eventually, they pulled the car back into the lot at the community center, made there way to the locker room, and got changed.
Once in the locker room, there probably should have been a moment where they reflected on the seriousness of what they had all been through, about how close they had been to death, but there wasn't. The ASBO shitheads were never really known for self-examination, after all. Curtis wandered off with that girl Nikki, leaving Izzy with a good look at his patented 'sexy face' and Simon gave them an awkward wave goodbye and went back to his.
Other than her and Nathan, Alisha was the last to leave. Izzy caught her watching Simon leave in the mirror while she was pretending to apply mascara. There was a flicker of longing in her eyes, one you wouldn't be able to pick up on if you weren't looking for it. After the door closed behind Simon, Alisha's eyes shifted and ended up looking at Izzy. The vulnerability that had been there hardened suddenly as she reached into her back. Applying a few swipes of lip gloss, she grabbed the rest of her belongings from her locker and stormed out. Izzy felt a wave of sympathy wash over her. Alisha would be grieving alone. They both would.
Izzy squeezed her eyes shut and fell back against the lockers, letting out a long breath. One thing was for sure. She would be needing a fucking drink. And she would be toasting to Simon, that stupid bastard. How much time did her Simon have left before he martyred himself for their cause? And why had he picked such a pathetic cause?
"So I'm your boyfriend, huh?" a voice demanded, interrupting her wallowing. She opened her eyes to see Nathan leaning a shoulder against the lockers a few meters away, a hand planted firmly on his hip and a smug smile covering his face.
Rolling her eyes, Izzy shifted so that she was facing him. "Only by the transitive property," she replied drily. "You said I was your girlfriend before I admitted to that degree of emotional intimacy."
"Yeah, but you agreed with me," he shot back.
"It seems that I did."
For a moment that overly confident grin faltered. "You know, there was a second there I wasn't sure you were goin' to."
Izzy cleared her throat slightly and her eyes glanced guiltily towards her feet. "I wasn't sure I was going to either when it came down to it," she admitted. "But I did. And I'm glad I did. I mean who could pass up on all of that," she said, gesturing up and down his body. "I would have to be fucking crazy."
Nathan let out a light laugh, tinged with a bit of relief, and nodded. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her suspiciously. "So how are we gonna do this?" he said gesturing between them. "The whole 'boyfriend-girlfriend' thing."
"How do you think we're going to?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as well.
He pushed himself off the lockers and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a few swaggering steps forward until he was standing directly in front of her. "Well," he said lightly, pursing his lips in mock thought, "the way I see it, you'll cook me food and do my laundry and all that borin' shit, and then you'll get to have sex with me."
Izzy snorted loudly. "I think you've got that the wrong way around, mate. You get to have sex with me. I'm the Gatekeeper."
"And I'm the fuckin' Keymaster," he shot back. "What difference does it make?"
"The Gatekeeper can change the locks."
Nathan gave her a bewildered look and then shook his head violently, sending his curls flying all over the place. "Nah, man. My body is a temple, and I am letting you worship at my altar and in return I get all that other stuff. And by altar of course I mean—"
"Nope," Izzy cut him off loudly, furrowing her eyebrows in contemplation while looking him up and down. "I'm still not really seeing what I get out of it."
Nathan scoffed, sounding very offended. "You'll get all of this," he shot back gesturing at himself.
"I'll get to cuddle with an overgrown cabbage patch kid?"
Nathan moved even closer, pinning her to the lockers and leaned down, capturing her lips with his. Izzy quickly wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and his hands found their way to her hips, his thumbs absently rubbing circles on the skin just above the waistline of her jeans. When he finally pulled back, he looked slightly dazed and immensely proud of himself.
"And that is how you do that," he said smugly, clapping his hands together and taking a few steps back.
"Yeah, really not seeing the appeal," Izzy smirked, grabbing the bag at her feet and pushing past him. "Maybe we should just quit while we're ahead."
"Aw, come on, Ginger!" he whined, following her out of the locker room. "I can kill the really big spiders in your flat."
"I'm not afraid of spiders," she replied in a singsong voice.
"I can carry heavy boxes and shit."
"Why would I need someone to carry heavy boxes for me? It's not like I'm moving out of my flat."
"I can fix the sink when it gets all clogged up and sewage is sprayin' everywhere like guts in one of those low-budget horror flicks or me after eatin' a bad kebab."
"Really?"
Nathan snorted heavily. "No. Of course not. That would mean I have some sort of marketable skill and then I'd have to go and get a proper job. Who wants that?"
They bickered and bantered all the way back to her flat. As soon as they got there, he grabbed the remote and jumped on the sofa theatrically, flipping on the telly and toggling through the channels until he got to one of the wildlife specials or football games. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Izzy observed him, a warm and fuzzy feeling penetrating her chest. But then something else caught her eye.
Sitting on the cheap new card table she had bought, she saw two books, black leather binding with a swirly Celtic design on the front. They looked just like that book Simon had waved around in his flat. The one that he had said she wrote. Izzy walked up to the table and flipped the first of the books—the new one—open. On the inside cover there was a note scrawled in Simon's handwriting that read 'to get you started'. The rest of the pages were blank. Izzy eagerly turned to the next one—the older one—and began to flip through the pages, only to find all of them had been completely blacked out. All of them, that is, except for the inside cover. There she saw the same note as in the new copy, but with one more sentence scribbled at the bottom in fresher looking ink. 'You really didn't think I'd make it that easy for you?' it read.
Izzy smiled. He was being coy. Even from the grave, Simon was being cheeky, taunting her. As much as she had whined about all the secrecy and shit, Izzy had quite liked him. And these days when she interacted with the present Simon, she was seeing bits and pieces of the other one beginning to appear. Izzy let out a laugh and grabbed books, sliding them onto one of her bookshelves, side by side.
"It's all coming together," she murmured under her breath.
"What's that?" Nathan shouted from the sofa, snapping her out of her reverie.
"Nothing," she said quickly, moving towards him and plopping down on the sofa. "What's on the telly?"
Nathan let out a long breath as he scrolled through the options until he found something suitable. "What would a lovely bird such as yourself say to 'Robots vs. Wrestlers'?"
"I'll make the popcorn."
So there's the new chapter. I hope you liked the title (I found it to be quite clever if I do say so myself). So I had fun writing this, so hopefully that means I've conquered the writer's block. I'll start working on the next chapter soon, but I'll be super busy in the next few days so it might be a little while before it comes out.
*Insert obligatory, desperate review-begging here*
References:
-"Nut up of shut up" is from Zombieland, obviously. If you didn't know that, you're not as cool as I thought you were.
-'Robots vs. Wrestlers' is a HIMYM reference (I wish it was real, but unfortunately we are not so lucky)
I want to thank you guys for bearing with me through the repost. I know it's probably annoying, but it needed to happen. Good news is, I think I got my groove back, so be expecting completely, 100% new chapters soon!
Cheers!
It Belongs In A Museum