Well, it's been a hot minute since i posted on this... that has not been intentional, just been really rough trying to get any writing done, and frankl, this definitely is not my best work. but it hits the points it needs to to advance the story, so good enough by me
Krystal slipped off the stairs at Will's apartment building, making her way down the hall way. She could easily sense Mira's distressed mind, and had been able to from several blocks away. The young woman was filled with terror and apprehension, nor could Krystal blame her really.
Hey Mira, I'm just down the hall. Krystal let that thought slip across her telepathy to Mira, just to assure her that Krystal was indeed a friend. Only a moment later, she was gently knocking on the door. The door instantly swung open for her, an only slightly disheveled Mira on the other side. On her hip was her blaster pistol, not buckled in like she usually carried it. Which meant she wanted rapid access to it. Nor could Krystal blame her for that.
"Hey Krystal. Shouldn't you be with Fox right now?" Mira only stepped out of the door frame enough to let Krystal in, closing the door and locking it as soon as Krystal's tail was clear of the frame.
"He has a job now Mira. He's not just sitting around at home! Besides, he doesn't need me holding his hand at all times." She smiled, flopping unceremoniously onto the couch.
"But his leg?" Mira only tentatively sat down, her ears on a constant swivel, her eyes only slightly behind.
"Is not that bad. I swear, he's fine by himself Mira. And relax, he's no where here. Telepathy, remember?" Krystal smiled warmly as she placed a hand on Mira's knee, hoping to calm her.
"He's snuck up on you before!"
"And he won't again. Come on, lets take a walk, shall we?" Krystal hopped to her feet, holding a hand out to Mira.
"Krys… we shouldn't! so much could go wrong, he could have a sn-"
"Mira, stop. Don't let fear control your life. There's nothing wrong with being afraid. There is something wrong with only acting on it, instead of in spite of it."
Mira let out a small sigh, accepting Krystal's hand up, gently being pulled from the couch. From there, they both slipped through the door, Mira locking it behind them as they took the elevator down to the lobby. Krystal took the lead from there, knowing there was a small park not too far from them, intending to take a walk around it. Hopefully, the exercise would help calm her down. They remained silent for much of the journey, Krystal simply listening to the younger woman's distraught mind. Oddly, though the girl was terrified of Midnight, Will was on her mind far more. It was clearly bothering her how calm Will was about her dating someone else. Clearly, mira felt that shouldn't be the case. As much as Krystal wanted to look deeper into her mind, it was so muddled that there was no way to do so without disturbing her.
"So how are you and Blake doing?" maybe an indirect conversation will bring it out of her?
"It's… it's nice." Mira shrugged, her eyes still ceaselessly searching the area.
"Just nice? What, is he not very good in the bedroom or something?"
"What!? No, we… we don't do that! I mean, he's fun to be around and with but we mostly just chill at his apartment and watch movies, or work around the shop and chat. It's…" she let out a small sigh and yet another shrug. "It's a fling at most. I mean, he's a great person, and I love his son, but… it's not like I'm in a rush to marry him or something."
Kystal nearly choked on her own tongue, as her ploy had exactly the effect she wanted. What she didn't expect was the wall of remorse Mira was feeling for rejecting Will's marriage proposal. She was still madly in love with him, and was absolutely sure she had hurt him very badly out of fear alone. And, Krystal couldn't tell her otherwise, as she most certainly had hurt Will. The man had retracted into his old shell after all.
"So are you planning on staying with him?"
"I guess… it's not like I have anyone else knocking at my door… so."
"That doesn't really sound like a good reason to be with someone…"
"Hmph, says the one who dumped her boyfriend and was near immediately with someone else until they were killed." Mira bitterly snapped back, looking away from Krystal. The statement made Krystal want to smack her but, the thoughts off mira's mind stopped her. It was simply her trying to deflect the conversation.
"First, that wasn't going to be a fling… losing Saber was painful as all hell Mira. Frankly, I don't know who I would've chosen in the end, even now. It's not even comparable in the slightest. But my previously bad love life is not the topic of this conversation."
"No, it's my shitty love life." She jammed her hands in her pockets, her eyes dropping to the ground.
"I wouldn't call it shitty Mira. You have someone who cares about you, and that's a lot more than many people can say. All I'm trying to say is, maybe being with someone just for the sake of being with anyone really, isn't a good way to live."
"Hmph, maybe for you. It's working fine for me…"
"Say what you will Mira, you heart's speaking the truth far louder." Mira only growled in response, marking the end of their conversation. Though, Krystal could still feel her deep in thought about it.
"Hey, excuse me miss?" a canine woman with a small table before her called out to them from across the street, bring Krystal's focus on Mira to a sudden stop. The table had a blue banner on it, labeled 'Cerinian Aid Program'.
"Looks like someone just mistook you for a refuge." Mira let out an almost bored chuckle, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, you can't blame her, can you?"
"I guess not. Want to go check it out I guess?"
"Of course!" Krystal, glanced both directions, being sure no traffic was coming before she darted across the road and toward the table.
"Oh, good, you actually stopped! It's so rare for your people to actually notice when I call out to them!" the woman was a a fluffy, golden furred canine, having to adjust her glasses as she spoke, long blonde hair nearly obscuring her view anyway. She couldn't have been more than twenty, by her voice and build.
"Well, I don't think most Cerinians understand Cornerian. What's this 'cerinian aid program'?" Krystal smiled warmly to the woman, who nearly jumped at her actually speaking to her.
"Wha-at…. You speak… and read Cornerian? You must be incredibly smart if you've already learned our language, and you speak so well too!"
"Well, she would have to be a refugee for that to be a shocker." Mira rolled her eyes again, letting out a small snigger.
"Mira, let the lady talk!" Krystal jokingly smacked Mira, happy to see a little bit of her snarky side out to play.
"You're… not a refugee?" the woman was utterly dumbfounded, her mind seemingly having stopped entirely.
"No. I've been in Lylat for nearly ten years actually. You seem to have missed my question…"
"Oh! I'm so sorry! It's something my school put together! We've got a kitchen set up in our gym, as well as a few classes being taught by students to try and help Cerinians get their feet under them…. Or, sort of. We've been having a lot of trouble getting any Cerinians to come… most of them seem to have no idea how to speak…" she rubbed the back of her head nervously, not able to look Krystal in the eye.
"Well, most Cerinians don't know how to actually talk. Not even our own language. Telepathy took over in it's place. Those of us who can speak were usually singers. Heck, most cerenians aren't even named. We don't need names to recognize each other anyway."
"Really?" the girl's eyes seemed to light up with fascination as Krystal spoke, so insatiably curious that it was down right adorable.
"Wow, you never told me that Krys?"
"in my defense, none of you ever actually asked."
"That's fair I guess."
"So, um, do you think you could come help us out some time!? We really want to help the refugees but as I said, we haven't been able to!" she pleaded with Krystal, her begging almost as adorable as her curiosity.
"Um sure, I've been having a little trouble finding a job anyway. I'd be happy to help."
McDonnell tensed as a series of rapid booms suddenly ripped through the warhouse, several sparks causing his personal magnetic shield to flare into sight. The burst of ballistic gun fire near instant hopped from him to spraying across his would be clientel, cutting many of them down.
"Now what!?" he couldn't imagine it was the Cornerian police, as they didn't use ballistic weapons, looking to his left to spot the source of the weapon fire, not highlighted by muzzle flashes anymore as whomever it was was changing magazines. Several plasma bolts ripped from the criminals he was dealing with at the crates in the ware house, burning small chunks from them.
"Sir, we should leave, in case reinforcements are on the way."
"Yes sergeant, prep the van. We'll find more agreeable customers elsewhere anyway. He glanced at the bleeding and dead leader of these criminals he had been speaking with just a moment prior, shaking his head. Utter waste of my time. Oikonny, this plan of yours better not be this wasteful in the future. Fresh automatic fire drew his attention back to the crates, able to make out the outline of a human behind the muted muzzle flashes, his fire terrifyingly precise for fully automatic on a ballistic rifle.
Hmm…. He's familiar some how… McDonnel shrugged, stepping into the van without a care, barely sitting down in time for it to lurch toward the door, ripping through the sheet metal like paper.
"Hawkins!" Bradley shouted across the crates at his partner, just hoping the human could hear him over the fully automatic thrum of his weapon, "Hakwins! What the hell are you doing!?" he shouted again, to no avail, the human ducking down to reload as several multi-colored bolts ripped over them. With the rifle quieted, he could hear a distinct ring in his ears that wasn't there before, all of his hearing muted. Beneath it all, he could hear a vehicle engine kick on, a moment before Hawkins was up and firing again. There was a squeal of rubber on concrete, just before he saw the van lurch into the metal door of the warehouse, ripping through it and into the alley.
"Dispatch, officer Bradley, shots fired, vehicle fleeing the scene, say again, shots fired!" he screamed into his radio, protocol completely forgotten. He nearly cut off his own statement, as the moment he released the mic key, a perp came around the corner on the other side of Hawkins, raising a rifle toward them. Bradley was faster, panick firing several blue bolts past Hawkins, one hitting the perp center mass and dropping him. Meanwhile, Hawkins was dropping behind the crates again, changing magazines again.
"Hawkins!? What the hell are you thinking!?" Bradley still got no response, several bolts of plasma ripping dangerously close by him.
Hawkins remained totally unfazed, firing more bursts of automatic fire, silencing the last of the return fire, almost unceremoniously. Without a word, he stood and ran for the smashed door, Bradely forced to follow him.
"Hawkins!" he shouted once more, sprinting to catch up with him, grabbing his shoulder. Instead of a vocal response, Hawkins elbowed Bradley in the gut, knocking him flat to the ground. In the same fluid motion, he had raised the rifle toward Bradley, the smoking muzzle pointed at his chest.
"Whoa, whoa whoa! Don't shoot man!" Bradley shielded himself with his arms, squinting his eyes. Hawkins entire body was twitching, his eyes almost completely dilated. The closest description he could give the man's appearance in this moment was like he was staring at an animal instead of a person.
What the hell!? Bradley could swear the human was about to pull the trigger on him as well, shivering uncontrollably as he waited for the inevitable bang that would end his life. Instead, Hawkins weapon snapped back toward the warehouse, firing two more bursts as several more plasma blasts slapped the warehouse walls. With that done, he rushed out the door, Bradley left utterly stunned on the floor. He barely managed to drag himself to his feet, slipping slightly on one of the polymer casings left on the floor by Hawkin's ballistic rifle. The warehouse was nothing but bodies now, blood slowly pooling around them.
"Dispatch, Officer Bradley… multiple perps down, locator's on… one officer…" he froze for a moment, not really sure how to describe what was going on. "One officer in pursuit of other perps, how copy?" he waited for an acknowledgement before he stepped out of the warehouse to look for Hawkins. The man was nowhere to be seen, their own squad car missing. Add to it, the squad car that had been blocking the far side of the alleyway had been smashed aside, several small burn holes in the metal. Shit, I need to make sure they are alright!
He took off down the alleyway as fast as his feet could carry him, rushing to the squad car. Both of the officers were still in the cab, Bradley nearly gagging as he realized both were dead, shot by blaster fire, one in the throat, the other the head. Damnit! Hawkins, where are you! He was about to put out a call on the radio when he glanced to his side, seeing another squad car a few blocks down the street, smashed into a staircase off the street. One glance at the number on the back bumper confirmed it as the car he and Hawkins had for the search. Oh fuck, not him too! "Dispatch, two squad car's down, officers down, I say again, officers down!"
I groaned, my entire body in pain. I could hear the tinkling of broken glass around me, and could tell I was in the drivers seat of a vehicle, but I couldn't for the life of me place why. I cracked my eyes open, looking out the shattered windshield, barely able to see the sides of residential buildings past the cracks. Beside me was an old ACR, among the many weapons inherited from my father. Staring at it for a few moments jogged my memory, remembering the bank heist, the search and ultimately, finding the warehouse packed with obvious criminals, but everything after that was an utterly blank. And a terrifyingly familiar blank at that.
Damn it! Not again! I smashed my hand on the steering wheel, utterly oblivious to the pain of the motion. I was about to try and open the door when I realized it was jammed against the building, no hope of being able to open it.
"Hawkins, are you in there!?" Bradley was shouting from the other side of the car, his voice dull in my ears.
"Yeah… gotta crawl out…" I tossed my rifle into the passenger seat before carefully crawling over the center console, trying to avoid the glass shards scattered through out the car. Bradley yanked the door open for me, allowing me to crawl out, half dragged by him. As soon as I was out, I was slumped against the side of the car, just wanting everything to stop spinning.
"The hell was that shit Hawkins! You just opened fire without saying a fucking word!?" I remained silent, not knowing an adequate answer for him. "Hawkins, Dominic and Santa Cruz are both dead!" there was a thick layer of pain in Bradley's voice, shaking me to my core.
"I'm sorry Bradley… I fucked up…" I couldn't stop tears of my own flowing out of my eyes, knowing that whatever happened, it was entirely my fault. I cursed and slammed my fist into the side of the car, the hollow bang echoing lightly across the area.
"Hawkins, is this true? You opened fire without a reason!?" Bradley cringed as the lieutenant yelled at his partner, knowing his report had likely just torpedoed his career. It had barely been more than two hours since the fight, their shift being pulled off the search.
"I cannot confirm it nor deny it sir. I would assume Officer Bradley's report is accurate, sir."
The lieutenant let out a sigh, his head falling into his hand. "What do you mean, you can't confirm it?! It's a simple yes or no question!"
Hawkins face slackened, even his official bearing falling out. "I can't remember anything after we entered the warehouse sir."
"Because of the crash?"
"No sir." Bradley's mouth fell open slightly, shocked. It would have been perfectly reasonable to say he couldn't remember anything from the crash. Then, Bradley's report would be considered unverifiable and left without major repercussion.
"The hell do you mean!?"
"Sir… I can't remember the fight because I… I lost control of myself." He spoke quietly, a pain in his voice unmistakable to Bradley. It was though his words were a poison, slowly killing him.
"Explain. Now."
"It's a condition caused by genetic manipulation in U.S. soldiers. i… I thought I had it under control… but I don't anymore sir." The lieutenant glared at Hawkins, prompting him to continue. "It causes the brain's emotion center to… go wild under the right stimuli. In most cases, it's caused by anger, and amplifies that emotion into a blind rage, sir."
The lieutenant let out a small sigh, pulling his hat off to run a hand over his head. "How long have you had this… 'condition' and why is it not in your file?"
"Since I left the military, and… I don't know why it's not in my file here. It should be, and I thought it was sir."
"You are probably going to get kicked off the force because of this, you know that right?"
"Yes sir. It would be the right course of action sir."
Bradley watched helplessly, unable to not feel for his partner. Every word was saturated in pain, like listening to someone breaking their own heart. There was no denying that this job was something Hawkins wanted. Losing two officers and his job in the same day had to hurt in a way Bradley couldn't place.
"I disagree. Get a shrink, get this looked into. I'm suspending you until you get me an answer for it. Got it?"
"Sir!?" both Bradley and Hawkins spoke, Bradley as shocked as Hawkins must have been.
"You heard me. You have a lot of potential as an officer. By the reports you two have been putting up, I want you on the force. But only if you can get this shit sorted. Got it?"
"Sir, yes sir."
"Both of you, dismissed, get your injuries looked at and go home. Been in too many firefights lately."
They both saluted before leaving, Bradley quietly following Hawkins to the elevator. On the ride down to the locker room, he opened his mouth several times to speak, but found himself unsure of exactly what to say.
"if you hear anything on the funeral's, let me know?" Hawkins broke the silence between them, his voice as quiet and subdued as before.
"yeah… of course…" he couldn't bring himself to look at his partner in response. Part of him was hoping for the best for the man. He couldn't imagine what it could be like to lose control just by getting angry, but at the same time, the whole reason two of his fellow officers were now dead was because of just that. That knowledge was undoubtably tearing Hawkins apart on the inside, but part of it still angered Bradley, leaving him with no idea exactly how to feel about him. Should he simply trust him, be wary of him, or outright stop trusting him altogether? He could think of arguments for all three, none of the options feeling right to him.
"Thank you for being honest in your report… it… I hope it brings some peace for those officers families…" his voice was even quieter this time, Bradley looking at him to see a tear slip down his face.
Alright, fuck this, he's worth the damn trust! I know a dozen other officers who would've tried to cover it up and I wouldn't blame a single one of them!
"Of course man. It's our job. Just get your shit right. I got your back anytime you need it."
Hawkins merely nodded, returning the pair to silence once more.