City 31: The Jigsaw Killer

by MrTK-AUS

Chimera Squad find that they may have bit off more than they can chew after an insidious killer donning the moniker of the fictional Jigsaw killer starts taking the lives of seemingly connected strangers in torturous and gruesome ways. But with the case quickly running cold, Torque soon finds herself taking charge in an attempt to stop the killer before they can strike again.

1. Chapter 1

Welcome new readers and returning followers surprised to see me upload after 4 years of inactivity alike.

Premise and storyline by: Rycroft
Writing by: MrTK_AUS

Interested in talking with other fans of XCOM fanfiction? We're hanging around The Viper Pit Discord server if you wish to drop by and say hi: www.*discord.*gg / PBFpc4g (link edited to avoid FanFiction's automated link filters)

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Another uneventful day on the docks, another night of self-loathing behind a glass of the strongest liquor her local corner bar had to offer. The drab, old-world techno pounded away at her ears, drowning out the drunken rambles of the Sectoid directly across from her; animated hand movements exaggerating every word she had no interest in hearing.

She sunk back down into the clutches of the brown banquette, her blue-scaled tail pooling out under the table in search of whatever legroom she could find beneath the leather-adorned booth her small group of co-workers had commandeered for the night.

She hated it out here.

Hated this bar. Hated these co-workers. Hated her mundane job on the Switchyard docks.

And it was always the nights like these, surrounded by the people content with their menial lives stranded on this prison planet, where she couldn't help but fall back to the memories of her life with the Gray Phoenix all those years ago. Back when she had finally had a purpose—an end goal in life, after XCOM's victory and the subsequent fall of the ADVENT Coalition saw her previous life under the Elders' rule ripped right out from under her.

They wouldn't spend their evenings discussing that odd old-world knick-knack you picked up from the local corner store, or the gossip you heard from that Muton in the warehouse breakroom—they'd spend it scouting the city for prominent engineers and scientists that could help their cause, or planning ambushes on transport ships passing through the bad parts of town for weapons and supplies, all building towards that final hit on the starport and ensuing departure from this Matriarch-forsaken prison planet.

She tipped the glass to her blue-scaled maw, another swig of the colourful, Adder-approved alcohol burning her gullet and leaving a bland aftertaste in its wake.

"You were there, weren't you, Ada?"

She briefly returned to the world around her as she peered up from her drink, the Sectoid opposite motioning her way with a half-empty glass of whatever alcohol substitute they were permitted to have.

Her gaze wavered, her attention returning to her drink on the table. "Sure, Dex. Whatever."

"See? See? Ada was there! She knows!"

She rolled her pale eyes as she sunk back down into her left hand, swirling the glass of alcohol with her right. The Viper next to her sported her a quick, judgemental glance, and with a huff, Ada returned her drink to the tabletop, glancing over towards the crowded bar. "This drink tastes like shit."

"Then why do you buy it every time we come here?" the Viper asked.

"Shitter than usual, I mean," she hissed, lending the glass another swirl before taking a sip. "And I buy it, Vira, because it's the only thing here that gets me somewhat drunk, not that it matters to you."

Vira turned away with a scoff, and Ada took the chance to tune out the world around her, drowning out her table of coworkers as she absently stared off into the void beyond the distant crowd.

But her moment of solitude was short-lived, her table suddenly bursting into an overexcited, drunken cheer that snapped her back to attention in an instant. She followed their gaze across the bar, meeting the cheery face of her human co-worker as he gave them a wave from across the room.

"James! I knew you'd make it!" Dex called out over the crowd as he stepped from the booth, meeting the man halfway with a drunken bearhug.

The fresh face returned his sentiments before taking two steps back to meet the drunken Sectoid face to face. "Someone's had a bit to drink tonight, eh?"

Dex let out a laugh—if you could even refer to that boisterous clicking that escaped his booze-tainted mouth as such—before finishing his glass and dismissing the human with a wave of his hand. "I've only had a few."

"Yeah, a few too many," he smiled, a few laughs escaped from her small group of co-workers as the two made their way back over to the booth.

She had a fleeting moment of hope that he'd steer clear of her had she simply ignored him, but of course, she had no such luck—her refusal to meet her co-worker face to face only working to pull his attention her way.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite Adder!" he said with a pat on the shoulder. "Congrats on that promotion, by the way. It's always good to have some competent dock workers about."

"Touch me again and I'll flay you alive," she flared up, baring her fangs as she recoiled away from his touch. Her point couldn't be clearer if she tried, but his confident flair persisted—either ignoring or blatantly oblivious to her obvious threat.

"That's my Ada, alright. Still packing a bite, I see," he chuckled, sarcastically throwing his hands up in surrender.

"She's been like this all night," Vira scoffed, crossing her scaled arms to her chest.

"Oh, don't you start with—"

"Hey! Come on, the night's still young, eh? Say, who's fetching the drinks?" James butted in, clapping his hands together as he peered around at the rest of the table.

"Ah, ah, that's me! That's me!" Dex called out, catching himself on the table as he stumbled from his seat. "What do you want?"

"It's your call, Dex. Surprise me," he replied. "And bring everyone else another of whatever they're drinking. My treat."

And with that, Dex was away on his mission, and James seized the opportunity to find his seat, squeezing himself in next to the Hybrid and leaving ample room on the end for the Sectoid's inevitable return. Ada took another sip of her drink, paying the Viper next to her a sideward scowl as she sunk back down into her hands, returning to her own lonely little world.

But, alas, her silence was once again short-lived, the young man propping his arm over the back of the chair as he turned his attention her way.

"So, Ada..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering the room for a few moments. "Anything interesting happen today?"

"I've been at work all evening. What do you think?"

"Well, did anything interesting happen at work, then? Anything new come of that snazzy promotion to head stockkeeper?"

Was this really what her life has become? Social drinking and menial conversations about mundane workplace occurrences? She brought the glass to her lips, washing her thoughts down with another shot of the bland, acidic liquor.

"Oh, sure, James," she scoffed. "If you count another shitty day of marking down shipping information for eight hours straight, then sure, my day couldn't have been more interesting if I tried."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled. "I mean, it's a wonder they haven't outsourced to the androids yet. Maybe it's because Miss Sue would just get bored bossing around tin-cans around all day."

"Don't even get me started with Sue," the soft-spoken Hybrid finally piqued up. "Not to be rude, but I think a Chryssalid could probably manage that place better than she can."

"Think you'd ever leave, Leena?" James asked.

"Leave? Leave and go where?" the Hybrid chuckled. "Oh, actually, I know where. You know those relief programs Reclamation started running for those smaller communities in the wilds? Those ones where they bring out supplies, help grow crops, repair and upgrade their equipment… something like that. Something to help people that aren't fortunate enough to live inside the walls."

"A real noble cause," James replied, a hint of esteem in his voice. "Don't think I'd be able to top that."

"Why? What would you rather be doing?" Leena asked, shifting to face him.

James leant back, holding the suspense in the air for a second or two. "Well," he trailed off, his eyes glancing between the three of them, "I've been considering going into the medical field for a while now, actually."

"Like a doctor?" Vira tilted her head, her yellow fingers interlocked around her glass.

"Well, kind of," he replied, "a psychiatrist. An alien-specialised psychiatrist, to be exact."

"Oh, really?" Leena piqued up. "That's as good of a cause as any. I didn't even know aliens needed specialised psychiatrists."

"See, that's the thing..." he started, leaning in as Ada returned to her drink.

For as much as she'd like to just drown him out and return to her own world for the time being, James seemed to have the uncanny ability to pick out her inattentiveness from a mile away, and would no doubt use it as an opportunity to sway the conversation her way.

"...Nearly seventeen percent of the alien population are currently suffering from some sort of mental illness. Probably even more going undiagnosed! And do you know where these issues are most prevalent? Inside those Alien Detention Centres."

"Guess I should count myself lucky, then," Vira said. "I only ever served in the city centres, working menial jobs and acting as a friendly front to get the human populace accustomed to seeing aliens out and about. I can only imagine how horrible it must've been to serve on the front lines."

"And that, right there, is one of the most overlooked things," James replied. "You have these sentient beings, raised without an ounce of individuality, getting the only thing they've ever known in life—combat, bloodshed, destruction—taken away from them. And then they're just thrown into a detention center for twenty years until they're reevaluated and thrown back into this completely new world."

Ada kept to her drink, paying James a few sidelong glances as she scratched a single talon against the base of her glass.

"And this, of course, leads to a myriad of new problems with no way to cope," he continued. "PTSD, depression, anxiety… A simple lack of purpose in their new life, difficulty socialising and making connections with those around them..."

One of her wayward glances found their way to Vira, and for a brief second the two caught each other's stare, her slitted red eyes staring her down from behind the glass tipped to her mouth.

"...and it's so common, too. Almost one in every five. You might even know an alien struggling with mental health problems!"

Vira returned her attention to James, gently returning her drink to the table before wiping a speck of alcohol from the bottom of her maw with a hushed hmph that couldn't have been less subtle if she tried.

Her scratching grew faster, her eyes diverting towards the people surrounding the nearby bar. James made a start on his next sentence, but for a moment, he hesitated; his enthusiastic voice trailing off into the drab old-world music and murmuring ambiance of the ever-growing night-time crowd.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm rambling here," he said, backing himself up with an awkward chuckle. "I don't get to talk about these things often."

His attention had fallen back to her, and it would no doubt be her turn to get hit with an onslaught of prying questions she had no interest in answering.

But for the first time tonight, James' assertive attitude seemed to soften, his smile faltering as he studied her from across the table. For a moment she stared off towards the bar, and by the time she turned back, James had already shifted his attention to the Viper next to her, his trademark smile plastered across his face once more.

"Vira, how about you?"

A smile crept across the Viper's face, a moment of silence passing before she downed her last sip and returned the glass to the table. "Well, it's definitely not as charitable as you two here, but I've always wanted to host guided museum tours."

"Really? You never struck me as the history type."

"Well, being made to run the front desk of that old ADVENT museum for ten years helped," she said. "Back during the Occupation it was mostly just propaganda and lies, but I never really noticed until XCOM took over and started turning the place into their own museum. Those first few weeks after the war were the most eye-opening, watching the ADVENT stuff get drained away and replaced with all these XCOM exhibits… it was like all the smoke and mirrors were being torn down around me, and I could finally see the Occupation for what it was, you know?"

"Can't see why you'd ever want to leave. What brought you to the docks?"

"Same thing as every other former ADVENT, I guess. Finally given my own identity, reprocessed through the ADC, re-homed into whatever accommodation they had available. A young Hybrid woman already took the job up by the time I returned," she said, leaning in and cupping her hands around the empty glass. "I went back to the museum a few months ago, actually. They had this new Tales from the War exhibit based off real stories from Resistance veterans, and I was honestly surprised just how many aliens that entailed—one story was from this Viper who had saved the life of an XCOM soldier after her mind control chip failed in the midst of battle. Just threw her rifle down and dragged him back to XCOM's dropship. And she was almost shot on sight for it too, had that soldier she saved not thrown himself in front of her."

Ada rolled her eyes, peering off towards the bar in search of the Sectoid carting the drinks that'd serve to make this night at least somewhat bearable.

Listening to people celebrating back-stabbing turncoats like they were some sort of hero ticked her off more than she cared to admit. If only her fabled museum mentioned the deserters that weren't lucky enough to slip through the cracks.

She downed the rest of her drink, her forked tongue flicking along the sides in search of every last drop she could muster before bringing the glass back down to the table, sinking into her chair with a sigh as Vira continued to mouth off praise for the so-called heroes of humanity.

"I mean, that's not to say everything was heartwarming stories. They sure didn't shy away from the darker aspects of the war, like entire Resistance Havens filled with unarmed civilians getting gunned down by ADVENT forces—one veteran talked about dropping in on a unit of ADVENT Troopers that fired into a crowd of fleeing civilians even as XCOM forces rolled in and returned fire. Right down to their dying breaths they only ever aimed at those civilians."

Leena shifted in her seat, her eyes falling to her drink as she gently swirled the liquid inside. "Yeah, it was… really… terrible..."

"Oh, Leena…" Vira's voice fell quiet, her features softening, "I'm so sorry, I forgot that's a touchy subject for you."

"No, no, it's fine." A forlorn smile spread across her lips, quickly obscured by a small, prolonged sip of her drink. "I'm just glad we can say it's all behind us now."

"And for that, we only have XCOM to thank."

"I'd drink to that," James piqued up from across the table, raising an imaginary glass in toast.

"To XCOM," Vira replied, raising her empty glass.

Ada scratched her talon against the base of her glass once more, every word of disapproval that hung at the back of her mouth washed away in a long, exasperated sigh as Vira continued her toast. The only thing a rant about XCOM would get her is a one-way trip back to the Alien Detention Centre for 'social reevaluation.'

"...And to Leena's future with the Reclamation Relief Programs..." Leena raised her glass, her pained smile growing sincere. "And to James' journey towards becoming an alien psychiatrist."

"Hey, that's alien specialised psychiatrist, thank you," he replied, flashing another of his trademark smirks. She peered his way, the man meeting her gaze with a warm smile as he motioned towards her empty glass, goading her for a word or two of her own.

But she instead glanced away, a wry smile creeping across her face as she pictured his toothy grin behind a frayed bandanna indicative of the old resistance groups she had hunted under ADVENT's guidance all those years ago.

Would he have been a fighter? A runner? No, definitely a runner. That much was obvious.

Now that begs the question of what type of runner he would be. Would he just throw down his gear and hightail it through the woods until his legs gave out? Or would he stop and hide, inciting a fun little game of cat and mouse?

Would he go silently? Would he go kicking and screaming? Or would he go begging and pleading, blurting out whatever comes to mind as he drew his final breaths?

"...And, of course, to me, and my future as the best museum tour guide City 31 has ever seen!"

She stole a sideways glance as her table clinked their glasses together, a hushed snicker escaping her mouth as she shook her head.

A beggar, of course. What else would he be?

Vira's glass slammed down on the table, flustering the Adder for a moment as her attention was swiftly snapped back to the world around her.

"Don't think I can't fucking hear you over there, Ada."

She met the Viper's stare with a brief look of bewilderment, but Vira didn't bother waiting for a response.

"Oh, spare me that look," Vira hissed. "This whole passive aggressive guise you've got going on? That fucking snickering? Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say we're all well and truly fucking over it."

James sat up in his seat, his smile fading from his face. "Hey, come on, let's just—"

"And don't you try to defend her again either, James," she snapped, raising herself up from her seat. "I have no damn clue why you have insisted on bringing her out here every week for the past two fucking months, but I'm over it. If she's going to be here next week, then you can count me out."

"No one's asking you to stay," Ada replied, eliciting a glare that bore right through her.

"See what I'm saying?" she hissed, turning back to face the other two. "I mean, Dex is always just too drunk to even notice, Leena is way too kind to say anything, and you, James, I have no damn idea what it is you see in her, but two full months and the only thing she's said beside her snide little remarks have been those curt dismissals of any question that come her way."

"Like any of you would care about what I have to say."

"We don't have to care about what you have to say, Ada. It's called socialising, and, you know, actually making an effort to talk to people. It's a wonder you ever passed the social aptitude test."

James shifted in his seat, his confident demeanour wiped clean from his face as he struggled to keep the scene under wraps; a few nearby tables falling silent as they listened in. "Vira, come on, you're making a bit of a scene here—"

"Great, James. I hope I am," she hissed, her hood flaring. "Come on, Ada, let's have a friendly little conversation. Just like the tests. Tell us, where are you from, huh? What city did you transfer from?"

She sunk down into her hands, her eyes unmoving from the table. "Are you done yet?"

"I'll be done once you decide to give us a straight answer. How about another? What did you do before you came to the docks, huh? What did someone like you get up to before coming here?"

"I killed people," came her curt reply, a sarcastic flair dotting her words. "I killed lots and lots and lots of innocent people, Vira."

"And there you go, dismissing yet another question with more of your bullshit." Vira scoffed, crossing her arms. "And you know what? I honestly wouldn't put something like that past you, you… freak."

An awkward silence befell the table as the Viper finally calmed down, her hood resting back against her neck as she sunk down into her seat.

The surrounding tables grew lively once more, their five seconds of entertainment gone and forgotten.

"So…" James trailed off, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop. "Leena, you were… uh… talking about those relief programs, weren't you?"

The Hybrid swirled her drink, briefly mouthing the words she found herself too timid to say. She instead turned, staring off in silence and leaving James' question hanging on the air.

"I… bring… alcohol!" came the loud, slurred voice of their drunken saviour. James seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the Sectoid finally returned, a tray of drinks taking up his hands. "I tell you, I just met one of the nicest Hybrid ladies ever," he said, his words stilted. "Well, not as kind as Leena over here, at least."

For a second he stumbled, and James jumped from his seat, taking hold of the tray before Dex had the chance to send it crashing down over everyone at the table.

"Well, sounds like someone's been on a bit of an adventure," James chuckled, setting the tray down just out of her arm's reach. "Why don't you tell us about her, huh? Did you catch her name?"

"Oh, no, I didn't," he gasped, turning back around towards the bar. "Maybe I should go find her again…"

"No— I mean, hey, come on, I think you've done enough adventuring for one night, bud," he said, pulling the Sectoid's attention back to the table with a friendly nudge to the side. "Just… just tell us about this Hybrid. What was she like? What did you two chat about?"

James settled back down in his seat as Dex started handing off the drinks with about as much efficiency as you could expect from a drunken Sectoid. He passed off the first glass to James, then almost spilt the second as he sent it sliding down Leena's way. His boney fingers made their way around her telltale drink, but his attention quickly wavered as he instead ushered James' way. "No, wait, I did get her name, actually…"

With an annoyed scoff the Adder lunged forward, snatching her drink from the tray and downing a mouthful of the colourful liquor before she had even settled back into her seat.

But the aftertaste struck her odd, and for a moment she flicked her tongue over the brim of the glass, taking in a whiff of… something. A slight sour tang, something that just wasn't sitting right on her tastebuds.

"Hey, I was meant to hand you that," Dex spoke up.

The Adder dismissed him with a huff as she sunk down into her seat, bringing her glass up for another taste, but a hushed scoff from the Viper next to her stopped her in her tracks.

"What?" Ada huffed. "You're not going to go on another of your little tirades, are you?"

"I just— someone swap, please. Anyone. I don't care. I'm either swapping or I'm calling a cab and going the fuck home 'cause I honestly can't take this anymore."

"I'm fine with swapping if you want to," James replied, crossing his arms as he leant back in the seat.

"No the fuck you are not," Ada hissed, her sudden outburst only serving to further solidify Vira's choice. James climbed from his seat, squeezing his way past Dex as Vira moved to do the same. Yet the Adder was adamant, crossing her arms and refusing to move a muscle.

"You're actually unbelievable," Vira said, shaking her head. "Un-fucking-believable."

"You are not going to sit him next to me."

"Fine. Have it your way," she replied, dipping down under the table and reappearing in James' seat mere moments later, much to Dex's drunken amusement.

"If only I was that agile, eh?" James chuckled, leaning up against the table. "Cause I'm, uh, definitely not that agile. Mind moving over?"

"Do you not have anyone else to harass?"

"Can't say I do," he replied. "Guess you're stuck with me for the night."

And with a sudden bout of misplaced confidence he made his move, hoisting himself up and over the Adder's tail in a single, less than gracious leap that evoked a chuckle from the Viper now sitting across from her. He stumbled on the way back down, the Adder recoiling away as he caught himself on her shoulder.

"What have I said about touching me?" she hissed, instinctively shoving the human away as he threw his hands up in a mock surrender.

"You did that to yourself," he replied, settling down into his new seat before swapping glasses back around with the Viper across from him. He took a sip of his drink, leaning forward to meet her scowl with a friendly chuckle and a warm smile. "Hey, come on now, I don't bite."

"Well I do," she replied, turning to meet his stare. "And I will bite you if you don't keep your mouth shut."

He brought a finger to his mouth, zipping it closed and flicking away a metaphorical key in one drawn out movement that couldn't help but elicit an eye roll from her.

"Like that's going to last long," she huffed, turning away.

"You got me there," he shrugged, returning to his drink.

But for a brief second she found herself peering back across at him, a talon tapping against her glass before her gaze returned to the bar, a content silence overcoming their short-lived conversation.

"So, what did you want to do if you had the chance to leave the docks? I never got the chance to ask."

Oh, great. This again.

But something about this conversation felt different. Felt off.

Sure, he was the same annoying coworker pressing her for details she'd rather not give, but something about his words hit differently—like a friendly conversation between two old friends trying to catch up on lost time.

Deep-seated memories of Eve came drifting back; her one true companion during her time with Grey Phoenix, and like clockwork, memories of their untimely departure came trotting back right alongside it.

What she wouldn't give to have her back in her life right about now.

She brushed his question off with a sip of her drink, the same sour aftertaste hitting the back of her throat and almost getting sent right back up amid a brief hacking fit.

"Whoah, hey, easy there." James moved his hand for a friendly pat on her back, but a quick hiss and an abrupt flash of her fangs made him reconsider. "Right, right… your no touching thing. I'll remember."

She gazed down at her drink, giving the liquor inside a swirl before peering back up at the Sectoid across from her, a few choice words about his terrible choice in drinks ready to escape her mouth. But she found him already fast asleep, his head drooped back over the top of the banquette and his bony mouth sitting slightly ajar.

The two women next to him were off in their own little world too, their bodies turned towards one another and their hands wrapped snug around their glasses, their mouths muttering words she couldn't hear.

"What about your job before the docks? Did you see much of the world outside City 31 back during the war?"

She answered him with another bout of silence; her left hand tapping against the side of her glass.

"Look, I get it if you don't want to talk about it," he said, his voice growing quieter. "Many people had to suffer a great deal during the war. You're not alone in that regard."

A few replies passed her mind by, but none of them seemed natural. None of them seemed right.

"Whatever," came the response she finally settled on, her voice indifferent and uncertain—a rather noticeable shift from her scornful self that James would have no doubt picked up on by now.

"Look, I'm just saying…" he twisted his left arm around, bringing light to the tiny metal plate embedded in his skin—an identification chip linked with the City's intranet that differentiated you from a crowd of clones, providing everything from a quick form of credit payment to a link between all the smart systems City 31 offered, and, more importantly, a quick way to exchange contact details between one another.

She peered down at her own chip, brushing up against it with a single talon. A black market counterfeit, installed by a group of shady men in the back of an old warehouse after the fall of Grey Phoenix all those years ago. She wasn't even sure if it properly worked anymore, it's been so long since she's had to use it outside of her apartment rent and occasional trip to the local liquor store.

Her maw drifted open in anticipation of her next words, but a brief coughing fit arose in its place, the Adder bringing her clenched fist to her mouth as she buckled over against the table.

"Everything alright over there?" James piqued up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she replied, tugging the neck of her top as she sat herself back up, the strong, acidic aftertaste still coating her gullet. "This place just has shit drinks."

Her eyes drifted back down to her glass, the dancing colours of the liquid inside leaking out into her surroundings and turning her yellow-scaled fingers into a blur of purples and reds.

"Are you sure you're fine? Cause—"

"I said I'm fine, James," she hissed, her voice growing irite as she climbed from her seat. "I… I just need to use the bathroom."

"Hey, Ada, if it's something I said—"

She pulled her arm away before he could reach out to stop her, stopping mid-climb to stare back down at him. Any replies she could have given were clouded in her mind, and so instead she turned, eying the bathroom across the bar and leaving her table of co-workers without so much as another word.

She brushed shoulders with a younger Muton woman as she slithered into the bathroom, the hardwood under her scales transitioning into a cold tile floor as the door slammed shut behind her, the drab music pounding at the back of her head fading away into nothing but muffled bass.

A cocktail of emotions brewed deep down as she leant up against one of the sleek, steel sinks that lined the tiled wall, her milky blue eyes staring back at her from behind the dirt and graffiti that tarnished the bathroom mirror.

Her stomach churned, her breaths growing quicker as she sunk down into the palms of her hands.

He reminded her of Eve.

That confident smile, the way she took her bullshit in stride, the way she always seemed to see right through her facade.

He reminded her of Eve, and she fucking hated it.

She quickly collected herself as the stall door behind her swung open, a tattoo-adorned Hybrid in a synth-leather jacket tugging at the cuffs of her sleeves as she walked past. Her eyes trailed her reflection as she left, and only when the door slammed shut behind her did she allow herself to return to her moment of self-loathing, broken only by the occasional bout of weariness she chalked up to her drinks simply hitting harder than usual.

Her talons scratched the sides of the grey metal sink as her grip tightened; her breathing growing shallow. She parted her maw, letting out an almost therapeutic hiss at the blurry mess of an Adder staring back at her, her voice bouncing off the tiled walls and fading away in the muffled music outside.

She couldn't deal with this.

Not tonight.

She collected her breathing as she pushed her way back out into the bar, the same old music pounding against her head as she slithered back to the table.

Vira was the first to acknowledge her presence as she approached, the human promptly propping his arm on the back of the banquette as he followed the Viper's gaze.

"Hey, Ada, you don't look so good," Vira said, sitting herself up.

"Everything okay?" James chimed in, squeezing himself back against the leather banquette as she climbed up and over him, grabbing her brown handbag tucked away beneath the table.

"I'm leaving," came her curt reply.

"Leaving where?" Vira replied.

"Home. What do you think?" she hissed, fishing through the trash littered about her handbag in search of her car keys.

Vira sat herself up, pushing past the Sectoid still fast asleep in his seat. "Not like this you're not."

"Oh, what the fuck do you care, Vira?" she flared up. "You wanted me gone, anyway."

It felt as though her mind was on autopilot; as though she was taking a back-seat in her head and watching the blurry mess of colours and lights play out from afar, and the consistent, droning voice of the Viper pounding against her skull surely didn't help.

She flinched back with a hiss as Vira reached out to grab her arm, her handbag slipping from her trembling hands and exploding over the hardwood floor below.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you try to drive like this."

"I fucking hope I do," she yelled, her eyes drifting from the Viper to the few people watching from the crowd beyond.

"I'll call you a taxi."

A hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and the Adder spun around with a hiss, striking the human across the face in a flash of yellow and red. And like a deer in the headlights, she froze; the regret hitting her like a freight train before her hands even left his face.

He fell back, one hand pressed to his cheek and the other making a desperate grab for the table before he stumbled to the ground below, twisting over onto his side as his breathy whimpers filled the stunned silence of the bar. Her instincts called for an apology, but her tongue spoke faster than her muddled mind, "I said don't fucking touch me."

If the bar wasn't quiet before, it sure was now—nearly all eyes were on her; the mental Adder coiled on the dive bar floor with blood dripping from her trembling talons.

James peered back up at her from the cold ground; fresh blood cutting through the streaks of glossy tears, seeping between his fingers and dripping to the hardwood below.

She expected to be hit with words of spite, shot accusatory looks, or told to get the fuck away and never come back.

Something she was used to. Something she could deal with.

But the fear behind his eyes cut deeper than any words could, and before she had time to process it, she grabbed her handbag and turned tail for the door as what felt like every pair of eyes in the bar bored into the back of her head.

The frosty night time air washed over her like a wave as she pushed through the rear doors and into the desolate parking lot beyond, briefly catching herself on a metal bollard as another bout of that shitty liquor hit her once more. Shouts echoed out over the droning music still going strong inside; a plea for someone to call an ambulance, a warning that 31PD were on their way—all drowned out beneath her shallow breaths.

She dove her claws back into her handbag as she slithered off into the concrete wasteland, glancing back in search of any would-be pursuers as she cut through a row of parked cars, scanning the dimly lit parking lot ahead in search of her silver sedan.

The music from the bar had long since faded into the night-time air by the time she spotted it, sitting under the light of a lone street-lamp by the corner of the lot. She briefly peered back as the bar doors opened, the voices of two patrons carrying over the silence as they made their way towards the street. Whether they were out looking for her or not, she wasn't sure. But she wasn't about to stand around and find out.

She slithered around the side of her car, grabbing hold of the door handle and freezing for a few brief seconds as the door she could've sworn she locked opened without a hinge of resistance.

She threw her handbag atop the passenger's seat as she coiled down in the driver's side, her tail pooling out into the empty tailwell below.

Her head sunk back into the seat, tears swelling in her clenched eyes as her breathing grew heavy; but her mind, with nowhere else to go in the silence, fell back to every place she didn't want it, every bottled emotion hitting her en masse as she slumped forward against the steering wheel, years of pent-up tears hitting her all at once.

A few long seconds passed before she closed her eyes, a few deep breaths escaping her maw as she wiped her bloodied talons against her top.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

She was done for. Disorderly conduct was one thing, but an assault on a human was another. Not to mention her only documentation came in the form of a dodgy black market implant that would never hold up under an organisation as thorough as the Agency.

They'd look into her past; figure out who she really is, and they'd surely send her back to the ADC for good once they uncover the things she was involved with during her time with Grey Phoenix all those years ago.

She punched the top of her dash in a brief fit of rage, sinking back down into the steering wheel as another bout of tears struck her hard, running down her face and mixing with the blood smeared across the neck of her top.

There's no way she was going back there. Not now, not ever.

Her focus fell on her handbag on the passenger's seat, her hand wiping the swelling tears from her eyes as she reached over for the car keys shimmering under the glow of the streetlight peering in through her front windscreen.

But a brief glint in the rearview mirror caught her eye, stopping the Adder dead in her tracks as she locked eyes with a shadowed figure sitting in her backseat. A stunned silence followed as the Adder sat frozen, a few stray tears dripping from her eyes and trailing the creases of her blue scales.

The stranger ever so slowly leant in, a gentle gasp escaping her mouth as a small piece of metal no bigger than a toothpick slipped between her scales, her muscles falling almost instantly lax as she collapsed atop her passenger side seat, knocking her handbag to the tailwell below.

The needle emptied into her bloodstream with one drawn-out press of the plunger; the figure slipping the needle back out as the Adder brought her frail hand to her neck, her other making a desperate swipe for the glove box sitting mere inches from her face.

She could feel their presence; the weight of their body pressed against the back of her seat as they leant over her, watching her fading struggles grow less and less energetic.

The glove box fell open, her fingers brushing against the grip of a mag-pistol she had no strength to lift.

The overhead lights peering down over her dash faded as her eyelids grew too heavy to hold; her body unresponsive, as though she was nothing but an observer taking a back seat in her mind as she stared up at the humanoid shadow looming above her.

And with one last frail breath, the Adder's head slumped down, plunging the world into darkness as the sedatives in her bloodstream finally lulled her to sleep.