Guess who has covid? This bitch.

Title: Dani California - The Red Hot Chili Peppers

20 - California Rest In Peace

'Sir, I'm very worried about my grades.'

'Newton, it's the second day of term. I really don't think -'

'I don't mean any disrespect, Mr Soper, but you know how I feel about my grades, right?'

'Of course. But don't you think you should take a little time to breathe before worrying about anything like that? I certainly don't want you to be stressed.'

'Sir. Sir. I don't think you understand. My emotional support buddy has run away, and you think I'm not stressed?'

Vin had to stifle a snort in his hand, so as not to give away his hiding place. Newton certainly had a tendency to be a little melodramatic when presented with the opportunity. All the same, he was probably taking it a little too far.

On the other side of the wall, Mr Soper seemed to be similarly taken aback. 'Emotional support -? Newton, what's really going on here?' There was a scraping noise as Soper's office chair was pushed back, followed by the sound of him pacing about the office. 'Would you like to talk about Zero? Because you know I'm here if you need to.'

'What's there to talk about, Sir?' Newton said, with a slightly overdone sigh. 'She hates us all and exacted her revenge by vanishing off the face of the planet. Not much more to say.'

Soper made a faintly exasperated noise. 'You know that's not true. Look, I'm not surprised that you are using humour as a coping mechanism, but I promise that you don't need to put up those walls here. I'm all ears.'

Newton hummed. 'Well, I would like to talk about it. Just . . . can we go somewhere else? Offices make me twitchy.'

'Of course,' Soper replied. 'How about we go take a walk?'

'That works for me.'

Taking his cue, Vin quickly slipped away from the doorway and hurried down the hall, shutting himself in the linen closet. After a moment, he heard the sound of Soper's office door opening, followed by their voices as the conversation continued.

' . . . I've really been tossed in the deep end here, Sir. My best friend has abandoned me. I'm all alone . . .'

God, he was laying it on thick.

Once their footsteps had faded, Vin cracked open the closet door a little to make sure that he was alone, before slipping quickly into Soper's office. Once the door was closed behind him, he made a beeline straight for the filing cabinet.

Zero's file was easy enough to find. Vin flipped it open, skimming over most of the notes with a cursory glance.

Aggressively inclined . . . Appears to have established strong friendships . . .

No, that wasn't what he was looking for. He needed the bare details.

He continued flipping through, searching for something similar to the words "home address" when something else caught his eye.

It was a fairly recent note, dated to about a few weeks ago.

Has confirmed physical abuse from father. Sexual abuse denied - to be queried at later date.

Soper's signature was neatly penned just underneath. Vin's stomach churned uncomfortably, seeing the words written so matter-of-factly. It was another issue to add to the ever-growing list of things he should at least try to talk to her about.

He continued to turn the pages, brow furrowing, until finally - finally - he found an address that looked promising.

He brought his watch up near his face, keeping his voice low.

'Trix, I've got a lead.'

There was a brief pause, before the mic crackled with her reply. 'You found it?'

'Yeah.' He stared down at the paper, a new sense of determination in his heart. 'Looks like we're heading to Bed Stuy.'

The three of them stood in a row on the pavement, staring up at the shabby house before them with equal expressions of apprehension.

'Uh,' Vin said finally, 'so what's the game plan here, guys?'

Trixie frowned as she studied the building for a long moment, before glancing across at Newton. 'What do you think?'

'I think we're better off looking for a window,' he replied. He pointed to the skinny alleyway just to the left of the front porch. 'That's gonna be our best bet. Less chance of getting caught.'

Vin, ever a man of action, immediately took off. Newton and Trixie exchanged exasperated glances, before hurrying after him.

'Vin,' Newton said, maybe a little too sharply. 'Wait for us.'

Vin made an irritated noise, but slowed down a little.

The alleyway didn't reveal very much - just a few windows, one of which was boarded over. Once he was on Vin's shoulders, Newton took a closer look. The wood was fairly brittle and weatherbeaten, and seemed easy enough to remove. He pulled a multi tool from his cargo pants and set to work, gradually easing out each rusty nail, one at a time.

There were several large gaps between the boards, most about two fingers wide. He couldn't see much inside the room; the door was closed, and it was very dark. That was even better, as it was more likely they would go undetected. That was, if anyone was even home, which seemed unlikely.

He pulled the first board off with a horrid squeak. They all froze for a moment, but when it seemed clear that no one had noticed, he got back to work.

One by one, the other boards were gradually removed. Once the last one was quietly placed on the ground, Newton pulled himself over the windowsill and into the room. He turned around to help Trixie in when Vin gave her a boost, before following in suit. Once they were all inside, Newton then turned back to look at the room, ready to assess their next move.

He would spend the rest of his life wishing that he hadn't.

Trixie let out a horrified gasp. Vin made a noise that was outright anguished. Newton could only stare, dread in his gut and bile in his throat.

The room was completely trashed, but there was no doubt who it had belonged to.

Newton slowly moved forward, his trainers crunching on broken glass from the bottles scattered on the floor. The sight around him was so overwhelming that he didn't know where to look first.

He glanced back, mouth working uselessly. There were no words for the look in Trixie's eyes - pain, horror, revulsion; none of them were good enough. Vin had gone sheet white, touching the blackened, bloody marks on the windowsill with dawning realisation.

Of all the horrible things that Newton had imagined - they paled next to the brutal reality that was spread out before him.

He walked over to the bed, eyes roaming over the slashed bedsheets, the dark smear of a handprint on the wall. Hot, bitter anger churned in his gut - so strong that there weren't words to describe it.

'Jail wasn't enough for him,' he murmured, voice trembling. He turned to the others, who had also moved forward for a closer look.

Vin looked up at him. Angry tears stood bright in his eyes. 'I hope he rots,' he whispered.

'Guys,' Trixie said softly. 'I . . . we - we've got to keep looking.' Her words shook a little as she struggled to get them out. 'I know it's . . . it's monstrous, but . . .' She swallowed, clearly on the verge of tears. '. . . but we - we can't let it . . . distract us.'

'Distract,' Newton spat, mouth twitching into something like a snarl. 'Trix, this is - i-its a crime scene. Don't you care?'

'Of course I care!' she whispered shrilly. She clamped a hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to stifle a sob. 'I-its horrible. But . . . we already knew it happened, Newton.' She looked him determinedly in the eye as tears began to roll freely down her face. 'We already knew.'

'We might have vaguely known,' he replied, 'but this - this is just brutal.'

'I know. I know.' She took his hand, squeezing it hard. 'But there's nothing we can do.' She waved a hand, indicating the destruction around them. 'This was two years ago.'

'What I don't get,' Vin said, voice soft and gritty, 'is why this is still here.' He gestured vaguely around them. 'I mean, the blood - why wouldn't you clean that up?'

'Because he's a lazy son of a bitch who didn't give a shit,' Newton muttered. He pointed to the bedroom door. 'I have a feeling that door just doesn't get opened.'

'But what if someone comes looking? The evidence is right here, just waiting to be found -'

'And speaking of which,' Trixie added quietly, 'make sure you take photos.' At their confused frowns, she continued, 'Because you're right, Vin. What if someone does come looking?' She chewed her lip, looking around the room. 'I know Zero has no interest in reporting this. But . . . but if she changes her mind, at least there will be even more evidence in her favour to back it up. The last thing she would need is for someone to clean this room up and make it look like nothing ever happened.'

Newton frowned as he considered it. She definitely had a point. 'But Zero would kill us if she knew we'd been here.'

Trixie folded her arms, lip jutting out definiantly. 'Well, she should have thought of that before she ran off, leaving us here worried sick. And speaking of which -' She turned around, wiping her eyes as she scanned the room. 'We came here for a reason. If there are any clues to why she left, they're bound to be here.'

'Check for dust,' Newton said, moving forward to join her. 'Or anything that looks like it's been disturbed. That'll be our best indicator.'

'You mean disturbed like that?' Vin asked, pointing at the floor.

They both glanced down.

There were several footprints on the dusty floorboards; most of them their own. But over in a corner of the room where none of them had been yet was a single pair of bootprints. Next to them was a rough looking floorboard, where most of the dust had been brushed off around the edges.

Aha.

Newton immediately strode over to it, pulling his multi-tool out as he went. Opening up one of the functions with a short, thin blade, he squatted down, sliding it between the floorboards and levering the loose one up.

There wasn't much to be found underneath. A few loose coins, some scraps of paper. Newton grabbed the paper, passing it off to Trixie, and knelt further down, using the flashlight on his phone to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

'Oh, uh . . .' Trixie made an odd noise, and Newton glanced back up. She was reading one of the papers, mouth turned downward. Vin, who was reading it over her shoulder, seemed similarly uncomfortable.

'What's up?' he asked, getting to his feet and brushing the dust from his knees.

'I don't . . . I don't think this is what we were looking for,' Vin said faintly.

'We should put this back,' Trixie agreed.

'What is it?' Newton pressed.

She handed it to him. 'Here. Just - just put it back.'

He skimmed over it as he knelt back down. His eyes were immediately drawn to the signature - love, Mamma - and nope, he was not opening that can of worms. He immediately shoved the letter back beneath the floorboard, and looked back to the others. 'Anything else?'

Trixie was flipping through the scraps of paper and frowning. 'No. These are just . . . clippings from judo magazines, it looks like.' She handed them over, and he stashed them away with the letter. 'You sure there's nothing else hiding down there?'

'Nothing.' He sat back on his haunches. 'Shit. So what do we do now?'

They all stared at each other, as the uselessness of their situation slowly dawned on them.

'Shit,' Vin muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 'What do we do?'

They both looked at Trixie, who was staring blankly into space as she thought, an upset crease between her brows.

'I . . . I don't know,' she said finally. She swallowed, forcing herself to come back to focus, and looked up at the two of them. 'I don't know.

'Toriello, catch!'

At this point, it was practically instinct for Zero to drop what she was doing and whirl around, snatching the glass out of the air as it sailed toward her. She turned it over in her hands for a moment, rolling her eyes, before setting it down on the bar with a thunk and looking over at Sharni with a raised eyebrow.

'You really need to stop testing your luck,' she told her dryly. 'One day I won't catch it, and thenyou'll be sorry.'

Sharni cracked a grin, impish and unabashed. 'Yeah, I don't really believe that. Besides, it keeps you on your toes.'

'Keeps me on my - oh, fuck off.'

Sharni snorted, going back to wiping down the benchtop. She poked her tongue out when Zero flipped her the finger. One of the regulars - and currently the only customer in the bar this early in the afternoon - huffed a laugh at their antics and pushed his glass forward for a refill. Sharni obliged him, a small grin curling on her lips.

As far as coworkers go, Sharni was the best. She was a twenty-something Australian woman, with dark skin and hair, and a startlingly beautiful face. She was sharp and witty, with a wicked sense of humour, and she'd immediately taken Zero under her wing like the chaotic older sister she'd never had. She had offered up her sofa the second day that they had known each other, no charge. Of course, that didn't stop Zero from squirrelling away small bundles of cash in odd places around the apartment for her to find later - hopefully by the time she was long gone. (She didn't do charity.)

It was . . . nice.

The job was less nice, of course. As an underage kid with no address and no paperwork, her options for getting money had been very limited. It was a pure fluke that she had managed to find this place - a dodgy, hole-in-the-wall bar that had been willing to put her to work, cash in hand and no questions asked, so long as she kept quiet about it.

That was fine by her.

Sure, the boss was a bit of a dick, but she kept her head down because she really didn't have any other option. Before this place, she had been holed up in an abandoned warehouse, living off dry ramen noodles and desperately trying not to think of home. And shit, it was hard. It took every ounce of restraint in her not to go straight back the way she came.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the other side of the bar.

'Scotch on the rocks, please.'

'No worries,' she replied absently, grabbing a tumbler and bottle from the shelf on the wall. She turned to her customer, and the bottle nearly slipped from her grasp.

Standing there over the counter was Mr Soper, casual as anything. Like it was perfectly normal that they would meet in a bar on the other side of the country.

What the fuck?

Doing her best to fight the obvious shock that she knew was written across her face, Zero slid the drink across the counter.

'Six dollars,' she said faintly. Soper handed her the cash, and she turned away again, making a point of busying herself at the till. Her head was spinning, and she wondered for a brief moment if she might pass out. She gripped the bar counter with one hand to steady herself, blinking furiously.

How did he find her?

Letting out a shaky breath, Zero turned back to him with the change.

'What are you doing here?' she asked, voice low and flat.

He raised a mild eyebrow, unbothered as ever by her bluntness. 'I've always been meaning to visit California. I thought that now was as good a time as any.'

'In the winter?'

'It didn't seem to stop you.'

'Yeah, well -' She cut off, grinding her teeth. 'What do you want?'

He shrugged easily, leaning forward on the barstool to rest his elbows on the counter. 'To have a drink.'

She stared as he absently swirled the scotch in the glass, a mesmerising shimmer of amber liquid. Once she finally managed to find her voice, she said, 'I never pegged you as the type who liked alcohol. I thought you were too . . . hippie for that.'

He laughed quietly at that. 'I think that we'll always continue to surprise each other, Zero.' He looked down the bar, glancing over Sharni as she chatted with another customer. 'Long shift?'

'Yeah,' she replied. 'What's it to you?'

'Just wondering. I hope you aren't kept on your feet for too long.' His gaze flickered briefly over her midriff.

She felt her mouth tighten in a frown. 'I'm fine,' she said, perhaps a little too sharply. 'Besides, I need the money.'

He didn't respond to that, opting instead to sip at his scotch. She glanced around the room, meeting eyes with Sharni for a brief moment. She glanced between Zero and Soper, mouthing you okay? Zero flashed her a quick thumbs up beneath the bar counter, before pretending to busy herself with wiping glasses - if only to keep her hands busy.

'You know,' Soper said finally, 'if money was the only issue, there are definitely other solutions.'

Zero frowned at him. 'Who says it was just about the money?'

'I'm not saying it was as simple as that. However, I'm guessing it played a fairly large role in your decision here?'

She exhaled heavily. 'Look,' she said, failing to keep a slight wobble out of her voice. 'I'm not your charge anymore. You don't need to pretend you care.'

He set his empty glass down, and she topped it up, refusing to meet his eyes.

'Zero,' he said, voice soft and firm. 'I have never pretended to care about you, as long as I have known you.' He tilted his head slightly, and she glanced up for a split second. 'I've done the best I can to raise you. It has never been a chore.'

Her lip quivered traitorously. 'I . . .'

'And if you'll let me,' he went on, 'I'll do everything that I can to continue helping you.'

She didn't reply. If she happened to wipe down a glass a little more viciously than was strictly necessary, well . . . neither of them said anything.

Soper continued to quietly drink his scotch, eyes never leaving her face.

'I know you don't think so, but you are a very smart kid.' He gave a small smile when her eyes darted back up to meet his. 'I'd hate for you to give up, because you think that this . . . situation . . . means that it's the end of the road.'

'It is, though,' she said emphatically, slamming down a glass. 'It is the end of the road, Sir. Because I'm not academic, and any chance of making a good life for myself has been thrown out the window, because I've fucked it up.' She swallowed, throat making an audible click. 'It's not just about me anymore.'

God, she could kill for a cigarette right now.

'Don't think so little of yourself,' he said firmly. 'Now, I want you to consider this for a moment. Imagine that money was removed from the equation - what's stopping you from coming home?'

Fucking Elizabeth, that's what.

Aside from that however, she had no answer. After a very long moment Soper gave a firm nod, taking her silence for what it was - stubbornness.

'I'm going to give you an option, here,' he told her, eyes determinedly locked with hers. 'I can loan you whatever you need, with no interest. All I ask is that you come back to Pinkerton. Finish your education. You still have a whole year ahead of you - even college, if you choose. There is so much you can do with your life. Just don't give up now.'

Her breath caught in her throat, and she could feel the traitorous sting of tears behind her eyes. She dumped more scotch in his glass - far more than she should have - and turned away, viciously gritting her teeth as she tried not to cry.

'I get off at two,' she said, voice rough and scratchy. 'I . . . I'll think about it.'

'I'll be here,' he replied softly. The unspoken promise behind that made her heart clench painfully, and she closed her eyes.

Going about her shift after that felt almost impossible. She moved about in a daze, pouring drinks on autopilot but not really being there; completely lost in her own head.

She considered what it would mean, if she went back. Her friends were angry with her, that much she knew. It had been a kind of betrayal, leaving them so abruptly with no explanation. Would they even forgive her?

Did she deserve to be forgiven?

If she went back, and finished school, then what? She had always delayed thinking about it before - after all, there was another entire year before she would have graduated. She wasn't going to be seventeen for another month yet - the idea of life after graduation had always seemed too distant in the future. What would she do with herself? Did she even want to go to college?

Regardless of what she chose, there was now going to be a kid in the equation. That changed everything drastically.

But . . .

But what if it could work out?

She thought of having a sense of safety again. Of peace, and of home.

She thought of her friends, and their ridiculous, unconditional love.

She thought of Vin, and his beautiful, dumb smile.

She wanted it so badly.

She needed it.

And she was done with being a coward. She was angry - at Elizabeth, for taking everything from her. At Macbeth, for being the catalyst behind it all. At herself, for rolling over and accepting it when she should have fought back.

She was being given a second chance. And she would be damn stupid if she didn't take it.

It was a quarter past midnight, now. Soper was still sitting at the bar, currently engrossed in a book. The whiskey had remained untouched since they had last spoken. Steeling her nerve, Zero strode over to him and threw down her polishing cloth, slamming her hands down on the bar.

He glanced up at her, lifting his eyebrows.

'Take me home.'

He slowly closed his book, setting it down. Pushing his glass aside, he met her eyes for a long, steady moment. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

'It would be my pleasure.'

She couldn't help but let out a little laugh, heart thudding in her chest. She untied her apron, tossing it on the countertop, and turned to find Sharni.

She had no idea where to begin. 'I . . . I've gotta -'

'It's fine,' Sharni said with a small smile. She reached out, squeezing Zero's hand briefly. 'Go with your dad. Go home.'

Zero didn't bother correcting the "dad" comment - there was too much to unpack just for it all to make sense, and she really didn't have the energy for that right now. And besides . . . Soper had been more of a father to her than her own dad ever was. It was probably fair that Sharni had come to that particular conclusion.

'I'm not coming back,' she said. 'I . . . We're going back to New York.'

Sharni hummed as she considered that, before opening the till. She counted out a few bills, before pressing them into her hand. 'Then here's your last paycheck. Don't worry,' she continued, when Zero tried to interrupt. 'I'll handle the boss. You go.'

She bit her lip, unsure of what else she could say. 'I . . . thanks. Thank you.'

'No worries, kid.' She grinned. 'I'll miss you.'

'Thanks for letting me crash on your couch.'

She shrugged offhandedly. 'Thanks for not stealing my shit and running off.'

'As if I'd do that.'

'You would.'

'Yeah, I would. But the point still stands.'

She gave her a playful shove. 'Now go on. Get outta here.'

Zero grinned at her, feeling stupidly, unashamedly happy for the first time in forever. Soper was waiting at the door, and she fairly ran in her eagerness to catch up, nearly slamming into him as she went. He steadied her with a firm hand to the shoulder, and shit, that small gesture shouldn't have made her want to cry as much as it did. Together, they left the building, stepping out into the freezing January night.

She hadn't liked California that much, anyway. She was a New York girl, through and through.

5/2/22