- UPDATE 09/15/2020: Good morning, everyone! Instead of uploading another chapter to this fic as I do every 1st and 16th of the month, I am announcing that I have officially published Brightest Silence - A Prequel! It can be found on my profile or works page, and even though it only has one chapter at the moment, I hope to upload a new chapter to it once a week for the rest of the year. Unfortunately, that means that Red Capes: Saviors (this fic) will have to go on a temporary hiatus while I focus on Brightest Silence, but I will be uploading chapters to Saviors before the end of 2020. This hiatus will be 2-3 months long unless something really serious comes up in my personal life, but the moment Brightest Silence is complete, I am resuming work on this fic.
To tide you over in the meantime, I have made some major updates on the Red Capes: Saviors as it is:
The first one I have made is that the first 15 chapters of this fic's original version (most readers who saw it before this update will recognize those chapters as the ones that talked about Darcie's backstory and Rooms) have been removed completely, and after being revamped they will be part of Brightest Silence!
The other update to this fic is that chapters 1 through 19 (before the update, they would have been chapters 16-29)(yes, I added a few) have been revamped as well, and as promised, Lois' investigation finally does some justice to her title of Senior Investigative Reporter!
Please enjoy, comment, and kudos! I love reading them!
Author's Note: To capture Darcie's hypersensitivity to being out in the wide world for the first time, each chapter title includes a color seen, something felt, and something heard.
This fic takes place after the events of Brightest Silence. Though the prequel does clarify quite a bit of this fic, it isn't absolutely necessary that you read it to fully understand this story.
Chapter 1: Sepia, Wood, and Laughter
Loud.
Very loud.
It wasn't anything she couldn't deal with, and not nearly as bad as some of the sensory training she had gone through only a few months before. But everything seems louder when one was stressed or tired, and after two weeks of sleepless nights hitch-hiking, trespassing, stowing away, walking, running, and simply surviving as best she could, Stormkrigeren felt she was at least entitled to a bit of peace.
Maybe a pub had been the wrong choice for a hiding place.
It was loud and crowded, the building packed with hot bodies and reeking of stale beer and sweat, but that would make it all the harder for someone to find her there. Not that extreme caution was her first priority anymore - yesterday she had finally managed to shake her hunters off her trail, hopefully for good, and could let her guard down just the smallest amount. Thus the beer on the counter in front of her - though it didn't seem to do much to drown out the noise.
Stormkrigeren closed her eyes tightly and tried to block it all out - men's voices, glasses clinking, guitar playing, and a radio blaring in the background - every sound rushing into her ears and clamoring for her attention. The forecaster on the little box was predicting more cold and possibly snow, though all she could hear was the constant squealing of what she assumed to be the radio waves. If that was even possible.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she opened her eyes again and focused, glaring down at her beer on the shiny wooden bar in concentration. The pub was in the middle of nowhere, and the sheer remoteness made her chest clench uncomfortably. Being alone was nothing new, but being lonely was. She felt exposed and unprotected - like everyone was looking at her and waiting to pounce. No one was really, and even if some dude was eyeing her, Stormkrigeren knew she could floor him easily.
She adjusted her trucker cap to brush a strand of dark hair behind her ear and took a sip from her beer, the intense nutty flavor and bubbling sensation stronger than she was used to. Her eyes scrunched closed again as she fought the urge to scream - she knew she shouldn't have chosen a place so full of people, but as stupid as it seemed, her hunters were less likely to look for her here.
Various conversations filled the room, oblivious to the pain they were causing her as she struggled to keep her senses under control. Focus was the key, narrowing what one saw and heard down to a single conversation or person and block out everything else, so Stormkrigeren focused on two lieutenants of the Canadian Armed Forces having dinner a few seats down the bar, naturally drawn to those who shared the same tactical instincts as her.
"-been a change in the plans," one was saying, popping a french fry in his mouth, oblivious to the eavesdropper. "Somebody found something strange up on Ellesmere. AIRCOM's been making runs out there all week."
His friend snorted in disbelief. "That rat hole? You gotta be kidding me."
"I know! Crazy, right? And the Americans are there too - lots of them. They're calling it an 'anomalous object', whatever that means."
"Man, that's weird. Wonder what it is. Though it's probably just some-"
Stormkrigeren did not hear what he said next as her focus was suddenly broken by a brief shriek as a waitress shouted on the far side of the room, causing her to wince at the loud voice. "Ludlow! Let me go!"
"C'mon, Chrissy, sit down!" a rough-looking diner was saying sweetly, trying to calm her down and coax her into the seat beside him - though Stormkrigeren saw him pat her rear as she tried to turn away and immediately decided she disliked the man. The waitress was clearly in distress as Ludlow continued to harass her despite Chrissy's protests, and Stormkrigeren was on the verge of going over to tell him off when someone else intervened.
"Hey, leave her alone," one of Chrissy's coworkers said, a dark-haired waiter who had been quietly clearing a nearby table when the commotion started, but Ludlow ignored him until the man put a hand on the trucker's shoulder.
That caught his attention and Ludlow eyed the waiter furiously, dropping his grip on Chrissy in favor of shoving back his chair as he stood up and threw off his hat, breaking something. The sound of glass shattering brought all conversations in the room to halt as everyone turned to look at the two men staring each other down. Ludlow smiled confidently at the younger man, sizing him up.
"Or what, tough guy?" he asked, goading the waiter despite the fact that the trucker was clearly the smaller of the two. Stormkrigeren saw Chrissy standing nervously off to the side, desperately hoping a fight wouldn't break out.
To her relief, her coworker calmly refused to take the trucker's bait and replied evenly, "Or I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Ludlow just sneered at him, an ugly grin forming at the corners of his rough stubble. "I've been coming here for over fifteen years, busboy. I think I'll leave when I'm good and ready."
He threw a punch at the young waiter - strong enough to have at least knocked a few teeth out, but it never reached its mark. Stormkrigeren held Ludlow's closed fist in her hand, glaring back at the man with a slight frown.
"I apologize for interrupting," she spoke up politely in a thick French-Canadian accent, "but physical assault is illegal in most places - you could be arrested for starting a fight."
The roughneck grunted, trying to pull his hand out of her grasp and failed. "Damn you, let go, freak!"
"Miss?" the busboy said, trying to draw her attention, but Stormkrigeren ignored him and focused her restrained wrath on the struggling Ludlow. Diners were chuckling at the nearby tables, hoping a fight would ensue between the humiliated waiter and the trucker over the rogue gal. Stormkrigeren winced at their raucous mirth and unintentionally squeezed Ludlow's fist harder, causing him to yelp in pain and let out a string of foul words which earned a few cheers from the coarser customers.
"Thump 'm, girlie!" someone shouted, banging on their table. Ludlow was still trying to pull away while the busboy attempted to calm her down and convince her to release the injured trucker. The world seemed to grow louder, the diners' chuckles becoming high-pitched shrieks of laughter, every breath and heartbeat roaring in her ears as she fought to find something to focus on. They were all clawing at her, fighting for her attention so they could drag her down and break her all over again, catch her and take her back to the Rooms. Ludlow's harsh shout joined the clamor as Stormkrigeren felt his ring finger snap beneath her grip, and despite her best efforts, she did the worst thing she could have possibly done.
She panicked.
Her teacher had drilled that single, essential rule into her head nearly every day of her life, and she had tried so hard to follow it. Never panic, do not allow yourself to panic, do not allow yourself to be afraid. She had only broken the rule a few times, but it only had to happen once for her to become painfully familiar with the feeling of dread as it washed over her, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, her heart clenched in her throat, and her ears ringing with every sound in the world. All she wanted to do was escape and find somewhere quiet where she could be alone... but they wouldn't let her go, grasping at her mind, never letting her escape-
"Focus, damnit," she whispered to herself, scrunching her eyes closed and fighting to keep herself grounded to her own low voice. "You're too loud, keep it quiet, keep it focused-"
"Miss?"
One voice, softer and quieter and gentler than all the laughing shrieks roaring in her ears, reached out through the throng and touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes to look up at him beside her and saw the blue-eyed waiter - his hair was in need of a good brush and maybe a shave, but his sad smile was beautiful all the same.
"It's quieter outside," he murmured, yet she could hear him clearly above the din, and somehow his soft voice captured her focus enough for her to finally pull herself together, shutting everything else out but his words and her rage at the trucker beneath her fist.
Stormkrigeren took a deep breath to calm her nerves and turned back to Ludlow, twisting his wrist violently as she shoved him up against the back wall. Suppressing the urge to give him a good kick in the balls, she bared her teeth and growled. "If I hear you've been bothering her again, you can guarantee I will be back for your hide! Got that?"
Despite the fear in his eyes, he had the audacity to grin back sweetly at her. "Whatever you say, doll. We can even discuss it at my place if you like."
The occupants of the pub roared with laughter at his smart comeback as she thrust him away in disgust, returning to the bar and sliding a few crumpled bills over the counter to the bartender to pay for her drink. He accepted them with a scowl which Stormkrigeren ignored as she headed for the door, pulling her cap down tighter on her head. A few whoops of 'Get outta here!', and 'You showed 'm!' rang out behind her, and were immediately silenced as she grabbed a beer can off a nearby table, tossing it in the air followed by a roundhouse kick that sent it straight across the room into the wall beside Ludlow's head. No one spoke when it didn't fall, partially embedded in the wood, and the rogue left without a backward glance.
The pub resumed its usual chatter as the dark-haired waiter approached the can, observing it curiously and found that the force of the young woman's kick had nearly driven it through the wood into the insulation while the aluminum had barely been crushed. Ludlow had mostly recovered from his ordeal, already boasting that he had been in complete control the entire time and could have escaped if he'd wanted to - though he was still cradling his bad hand.
"She was just roaring for a fight, but my momma taught me to never hit a lady and I'm a good son, so I kept my hands to myself," he explained to the chuckling guitarist. "Though that girl was a bit of a bad bitch. Would've been plenty fun to have done her in."
The busboy frowned - she had only been standing up for another person and didn't deserve that sort of degradation - if anything, she was to be admired for her courage. Part of him wanted to hit the man, his fists curling at his sides and a fiery glint burning in his eyes as he took a step towards him before catching himself. Fighting wouldn't help anything, so it was with great reluctance that he forced himself to back down, but not before shooting a burning glare in the trucker's direction
Ludlow only let out a harsh laugh at the sight and shouted back to the barman, "Hey, Weaver! I think your busboy's about to go postal over his girlfriend!"
Weaver shrugged from behind his bar and kept wiping glasses, mentally weighing the value of his too-polite busboy against a steady customer.
"You're fired, kid," he said casually, not even bothering to look up. The trucker grinned at the ex-waiter, hands in his filthy pockets, and shrugged.
"Pity. Now get out!"