Breaking Down

Chapter 1

Brooks cursed as he jogged through the city, periodically glancing over his shoulder to watch for pursuit. Not that he'd see most of the fuckers who were after him, but he'd seen enough desperate situations over the years to know you worked with what you had and didn't obsess over the shit you couldn't control. He'd taken a shot, screwed himself and several incredibly dangerous people, and if he wanted to live, he'd be getting out of Brockton right quick.

Spotting a broken bridge up ahead, he increased his pace slightly, despite the fact that he was already winded. Reaching the first ballustrade, he glanced backwards again, then placed a hand on the weathered stone and flipped himself over. Dropping roughly 6 feet, he landed in roughly a foot of stagnant, stinking water and slipped into the shadows of the shattered bridge above.

A storm sewer grate was roughly 15 feet ahead of him and he swiftly moved to that and pulled it loose in a shower of rust and rubble, tossing it to the ground.

"Damnit!"

The only thing visible in the narrow tunnel was some clear, torn plastic; remnants of the sheet he'd wrapped his emergency bug out bag in when he placed it here.

Turning abruptly, he kicked the grate lying on the broken concrete he was standing on. The metal moved only slightly, but the splash of water was at least a little satisfying. This still left him in... not great shape though.

The money he had in there was practically worthless until he got out of the city, but would have been essential once he made it. He didn't dare touch any of his accounts; he needed to go dark hard and fast. The supplies- food, water, weapons, those would have been critical for actually making it out.

Slamming his fist down on the only flat surface in the vicinity he paused for a moment as he felt something other than slime, pastic, and crumbling masonry. Grasping it, he pulled it out and found himself holding a slightly damp, heavy piece of paper- a single word was scrawled on it in black ink, slightly blurred by the water, but clear enough: 'RUN.'

Not Merchants or some other drifters then. Slumping against the wall, he closed his eyes and tried to think through the sound of his pulse beating in his ears.

He was basically screwed. This was the second drop he'd checked and the note likely meant the fact that the first one had been ransacked likely wasn't bad luck like he'd thought at the time.

He could try for a third, but... there was a good chance he'd find the same thing. Running at this point was a fool's game though- he needed to do the unexpected rather than play into the narrative of the asshole hunting him.

Wading back out to the side of the bridge, he tapped his finger on the gun holstered at his side as he thought, then made his decision. Grasping a steel rung embedded in the side of the flooded canal, he pulled himself up and was back on the street in short order.

Moving back the way he had come, he tried to stay out of sight, but his priority was on moving quickly and the blocks passed by rapidly. He soon found what he was looking for though- a solid, granite building that had weathered Leviathan way better than most.

Moving in he found it as abandoned as most of the buildings in this area of the city and he took a moment to lock the doors behind himself and jam a flag pole through the handles as an additional layer of security. It would hold off an assault slighter better than used toilet paper, but he should at least see or hear someone coming this way.

An emergency exit sign pointed him towards the stairs and he was soon moving up them at a jog. The stairwell ended on floor 7, which would have to be enough. He pushed the door open and headed for a window only to stop short, breath catching as a girl in a tight black and purple catsuit lounging in the sill sat up and swung her legs over until they were flat on the ground.

"Too predictable, Brooks. Did you really think you could outsmart me?"

He shook his head slightly and just replied, "Fucking capes." Then raised the pistol in his right hand and shot her in the face. Or tried to anyway.

Unfortunately, though on target, the bullet just glanced off of her cheek, leaving a slight scrape, but otherwise doing jack shit. Smiling weakly, he turned and dived for the stairwell, only to catch Senegal's knee in the chin as he found himself diving at his friend rather than an empty landing.

The man caught him as he slumped, vision going white from the hit, then threw him backwards where he slid a few feet to stop in front of Tattletale.

Fuck his life.

Brooks eyed the woman who had taken over their contract after Coil as she stepped forward and put her foot on his throat. The pressure was light right now, but it was enough that his swallowing was noticeably difficult. "Did you really think you were going to be able to get away without consequences after screwing as many people as you did?"

Her grin wasn't quite as smug as usual today, in fact... her teeth actually looked slightly pointy for some reason. It gave her appearance a far more feral cast and made the grin way more dangerous looking.

In answer to her question though, he just shrugged since it wasn't like he could talk anyway and he heard Senegal laugh behind him. "Brooks was never really the thinking type."

Head whipping around, her hair flying out with the speed, Tattletale said, "Shut up, Senegal. If I want your input I'll ask. I am not in the mood right now." Unusually, Senegal shut up quick. Really quick. His friend usually liked to push the boundaries more than that. He supposed he couldn't blame him though.

Tattletale took her foot off of his throat and he reached up to rub his neck briefly as she crouched down. Dropping down into a squat next to him that looked deep enough to be painful, she said, "I've got a certain someone telling me that I should kill you for what you did. And I have to say, while I haven't actually pulled the trigger on anyone, it's really tempting with you."

Brooks blinked. This was really the first time he'd had an inkling he might not die.

"So tell me why you did it. It wasn't an accident, but I want to hear it straight from the source. What made you think you knew better than myself, Skitter, Accord, and the rest of us who actually came up with the plan that would have shut down the Butcher permanently?"

Or not. He opened his mouth, trying to think of something that would satisfy his boss and his eyes bulged as Tattletale's hand snapped forward, grabbing his tongue with nails that felt way more pointy than they looked. He tasted blood as she leaned forward and said, "And if you lie... I'm taking this as a trophy."

Fine. Whatever. Not like he had any options anyway. He nodded slightly, though not enough to pull any more on his tongue and she let go, leaving him to run it over the roof of his mouth. It wasn't bleeding too badly at least.

Clearing his throat, he kept it simple. "I saw a chance to have a completely clean shot and, well, I was okay with being the Butcher. Could deal with voices in the head if it came with that kind of power."

Her gaze was penetrating and he shrugged, adding, "I figured I'd offer to leave with the Teeth and you wouldn't put up much of a fight about it, since I'd know to stay away from the Cherish bitch."

Tattletale groaned and stood up, one hand plastered on her face. "You're an idiot. A complete moron. One who listened to the damn briefing and missed the fact that THE BUTCHER ONLY TRANSFERS TO OTHER PARAHUMANS!"

Oh. That... kind of explained what went wrong. He kind of figured one of the others actually finished her, Tattletale he assumed at this point. Maybe he shouldn't have dumped his coms gear as soon as he saw her and Citrine converging on the body without him getting any of the powers or voices in the head he had been expecting.

Starting to pace back and forth, Tattletale started muttering to herself, or perhaps arguing with the Butchers in a voice low enough that he couldn't understand. He decided to just keep very still for now, staring at the ornate wooden trim on the ceiling. If there was a chance of getting out of this intact, he wasn't blowing it by mouthing off like Senegal, regardless of how stupid they thought he was.

When she finally stopped and turned to him, he decided he might as well sit up and it didn't seem to trigger any additional outbursts. She just pulled a chair and slumped back in it, massaging her temple.

"So here's the thing. I'm not going to kill you because fuck you, Nemean."

What?

"The thing is, me not killing you doesn't mean you're not screwed."

Ahh, yeah. Skitter was a vindictive, ruthless bitch- he suspected he'd be way better off with Tattletale killing him than her getting to decide the fate of the guy who caused her subordinate to go insane. Tattletale smiled crookedly and it was a lot closer to what he remembered. "Well, you're not wrong. Skitter would be a problem, but I think she's got a better handle on this than the others from what I saw. No, it's all the others that are more likely to be out for your blood."

He frowned and said, "Why, what the fuck do they have against me that you wouldn't have first claim to?" Also... did she just fucking read his mind?

Leaning forward, his boss said, "The same thing I do, you dipwad. Your stupid fucking play to be the Butcher threw his powers onto the roulette table. The thing is, Citrine cracked the marble before the wheel was spun because we were trying to play damage control. So now there are 14 of the assholes running around in as many capes bodies. And while you have a couple 'heroes' in the mix, the majority of them are bloodthirsty bastards whose very first goal is going to be revenge on the powerless dipshit who killed them or doomed them to an eventual life as a voice in some nut's head."

Brooks mind froze for a minute as he tried to wrap his head around that, which made the next bit barely register. But that was okay, he was able to make it out and he suspected it wasn't for him anyway since it was nearly muttered.

"Right behind reuniting the whole team in the Teeth. Fuck me."