"Hold still for me, please."
Matt did as he was told as Mark applied the ice bag up to his wounded eye. Behind the blond, Eduardo paced back and forth agitatedly, shooting him glances every now and again. His attitude genuinely puzzled Matt.
"Now, let's try this again; slower this time." Eduardo's voice was taut with urgency. "Tell me what happened out there."
Matt flinched. He didn't want to revisit the humiliation of what had occurred to him in his disastrous attempt of talking Reagan out of going near Edd, but now he has definitive proof that the Irishman is not to be trusted, and if he wants any hope of keeping Edd safe he can't do this on his own. He wanted to. Matt so desperately wanted to take matters into his own hands and help Edd by himself – without needlessly shoehorning in others to solve his problems like he always did. It was Matt's turn to take care of him now, and he failed miserably. Before Tom's death, even when things got tough, Edd would always have a joke or a cheerful remark. Now his carefree spirit had vanished, leaving something darker and heavier in its place. Something in Matt's gut was certain Reagan was the one feeding him that. But can he trust his old rivals with such delicate information? Matt pushed the old bitterness aside. They're way past that, and Matt even sees them as friends. But do they think the same?
Well, here goes nothing.
Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Matt proceeded to tell his former rivals everything about the situation with himself, Edd, and Reagan. The neighbours appear to be listening to him diligently. More often than not, Matt would see concern flash in the duo's eyes. They stayed up until the moon had almost set.
His voice shook, and he had to make a massive effort to continue. Tears brimmed in his eyes. "Yesterday, while I was out I saw Reagan. I thought… since I couldn't get through to Edd I should try to warn him off instead. But then…"
"He punched you, didn't he?" Eduardo cut him off with a growl rumbling in his throat. His dark brown eyes narrowed into daggers.
Matt didn't reply; he just nodded, looking miserable.
"This sounds serious." Mark spoke up, his blue eyes calm and calculating. "But why do you think he is targeting Edd for any specific reason? I mean, maybe this is all just some misunderstanding and you're just-"
"I am not jealous of Reagan!" Matt snapped abruptly.
Mark and Eduardo exchanged a dubious glance before the blond raised his hands, palms out, in a surrendering gesture. "Alright, calm down. That wasn't what I was going to say." He smoothed, still alarmed by his reaction. "I was going to suggest if there's any possibility that you might be looking at the picture in the wrong way. I mean, from what you told us about this Irish fellow, maybe he's just naturally aggressive?" He shot a quick glance at Eduardo as he spoke.
Matt was struggling to comprehend what he was listening. Was Mark really trying to justify Reagan's actions? He shook his head crossly and lifted his chin. "Would you interpret any differently after being punched in the face and threatened?" He enquired dryly.
Mark tucked a lock behind his ear sheepishly. "Point taken." He conceded. "Just making sure we don't jump into this situation with the wrong conclusion."
"There is no wrong conclusion, I'm telling you!" Matt urged. "That guy is up to something, and he is after Edd!"
"But you don't know why?" Eduardo finished.
Matt was silent, which was answer in itself.
"Yeah, look, I'm sorry you and Edd are going through a rough patch and all; but there's nothing really either of us can do." Eduardo admitted with a tone of sympathy to his voice. "It's not our place to intervene and we know next to nothing about the situation. Why should we help anyway?"
"You helped once." Matt said suddenly, without really meaning to. Eduardo regarded him steadily. "That day on the supermarket, when the four of us went out together… you noticed he was in a bad shape then. I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but when you guys returned together Edd was acting better than he did previously."
Eduardo scowled. "Yeah, but that didn't last very long now, did it?"
"But you can get through to him again!" Matt protested, almost pleading for them to help him. An idea had just slid into his mind.
Eduardo reared back, his expression giving nothing away. "What exactly are you trying to ask of me?"
Matt took a deep breath and braced himself for what he was about to say. "You can talk to Edd. Try and reason with him to stay away from Reagan." He proposed.
"Are you out of your mind?" Eduardo interjected incredulously, his dark eyes glittering with disbelief. "What makes you think he will listen to me? He didn't even listen to you – and you are his best friend!"
"Because he listened to you the first time. And… you have a… way with words?" Matt added sheepishly.
Eduardo glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Now, now-" Mark stepped between the two, trying to diffuse the situation. "I think what our acquaintance here is trying to say, is that you won't be as easily swayed in an argument as he is. You can hold you ground."
Matt winced; half expecting to be dismissed out of the apartment for his ludicrous idea, but to his relief Eduardo was looking thoughtful. "Even if I did as you asked, how are we going to arrange it? I was lucky I had any opportunity at all to talk with Edd the first time. And how willing to listen will he be if he learns that you have talked to us first, trusted this deep and personal information to "rivals", without his knowledge?" Not waiting for Matt to reply, he shook his head and went on: "No. I'm sorry. I wish I could help, I really do, but I can't discuss issues that you have with a guy I know nothing about,much less met before in my life, to someone who hardly trusts me!"
"What if you were to meet him?" Matt prompted. "He's coming to pick Edd up for a camping trip later today. If you were to observe just long enough to get a good reading of him, then will you talk to Edd?"
Eduardo and Mark exchanged knowing glances. Then Eduardo gazed back at Matt with narrowed eyes and shrugged with a deep seated sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. But I already have an awful lot on my plate as it is, and I can't get side-tracked now to solve your problems."
Matt's heart dropped like a stone in his chest as he watched Eduardo walk past him and leave. Perhaps it was too much to hope for a bit of help.
Oddly enough, Mark didn't look the least bit concerned and he merely 'tsked' before taking the melted ice bag and heading to his kitchen for a cup of tea. There was a knowing glint in his eyes as he smirked. "Don't worry. I'm sure everything will turn out fine." He reassured.
Matt blinked, wondering how things could possibly turn out fine when he is so lost. And what does Mark know that he doesn't?
(Meanwhile…)
Restrained and properly muzzled, Tom's monstrous form was sprawled on an examination table, hissing and spitting at the three figures surrounding him with awe. Chains looped around his powerful claws to keep him from swiping at them, and a muzzle placed over his face. More heavy chains weighed down the rest of his body to immobilize his movements.
Tord's gaze raked over every single detail of the creature displayed before him. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. At long last, his creation was standing before him in all its glory! Although, Tord couldn't help the prickle of disappointment that coursed through him every now and again.
He knew he couldn't shape the serum to give off the exact monster design he wanted, but he'd always imagined it would be bigger and more monstrous. The news articles he read about the beast case seem to have been implying it as such. But this is just Tom with a few modifications and extra features! Still, Tord hoped he would prove to be more destructive once they get the true testing started.
"Look at the size of these claws!" Paul murmured in amazement, staring wide eyed at Tom's long and sharp claws. He bent down for a closer look, receiving a rumbling growl of warning from the asset as he neared. Paul hesitated, then decided the better of it and stepped back.
Tord was so excited with this development he had no idea where to start the analysis, so he decided to follow Paul's observation and start off with the claws.
He passed by Patrick, who was keeping his distance and staring at Tom with sympathy and dismay. Tord frowned, rolling his eyes but didn't say anything. They weren't on speaking terms yet, apparently.
Approaching the test subject, Tord stooped down and took one of the massive claws into his hands.
It was hard to believe the paws used to be about the same size of his hands – they're huge now! It was nearly the size of his torso. The paws are wide against his palms, but the real kicker are the claws. They're long and held a purplish tint to them. Tord hummed, slowly dragging a digit along one of the claws. He barely flinched when the tip pierced his skin and drew blood.
"Pretty sharp." He noted. It wasn't hard to imagine the creature slitting people's throats with ease. It would only take one fast and precise blow.
Paul reappeared next to him, taking a look at the other claw eagerly. But not even a moment later he sighed in disappointment and lowered the claw again. "No paw beans?" He murmured dejectedly.
Tord rolled his eyes. "Makes sense. Paw pads serve as cushioning, while it seems his paws serve solely as support for the main thing, his claws."
He turned away, and was quite sure he heard Paul mumble "like a sloth's paw" under his breath as he maneuvered the massive paw in his hands. Patrick cleared his throat hard to cover a snort of amusement. Tord rolled his eyes and sighed, but refused to comment.
He eyed the horns next; spikes shooting straight up from the top of Tom's head. They don't look particularly sharp – and really, as he trailed his digits along the length of one of the horns, he got no cuts. Perhaps if the creature were to ram it hard enough it would stab through a person easily. Then again, anything can stab you if plunged hard enough…
His gaze accidentally strayed to the beast's eyes, staring straight back at him. Tom's eyes. Still identical, and yet, so very different. Whenever Tord looked into Tom's eyes, even though they were empty husks, he could still see them glimmer with emotion – even when Tom's facial expression showed none. But when Tord looked into his eyes now in this form it was like gazing into the deep depths of the night, shrouded where no gleam of light can reach.
Tord shook off the apprehensive feeling he got from staring at the eyes, and proceeded to grab a hold of the horns by their base.
The creature roared suddenly, rearing back in his restraints. His powerful tail whipped around and slammed Paul into a nearby shelf; breaking it in half and scattering its contents.
"Paul!" Pat cried out in alarm.
"I'm okay!" The Red Army Commander yelped in reassurance, slowly picking himself up from the wreckage.
Tord instantly let go of the horns. The monster's movements subsided, though he continued to trash around; trying to escape and get at them. Cautiously, Tord approached again and took the horns by their tips this time. The monster huffed and puffed, out of steam, but he tried to shake his head to get rid of Tord's grip.
"Sensible horns, eh?" The Norsk mused, stepping back to jot it down on his research notes. Every piece of information could prove crucial!
Having recovered, Paul returned and wrestled with the trashing tail to subdue its movements. He firmly held it down against the table with his own weight as it continued to flick to and fro.
Tord took a look at the mouth guard piece. "I wanna take a closer look at his fangs." He decided. To Patrick he added, "help me remove the muzzle."
"Would that be wise, sir?" Paul spoke up, shooting his companion an uneasy glance. "I mean, it was such a hassle to put it on him in the first place, I think we should really consider carefully – what if he bites one of you?"
"I appreciate the concern, but I already know the risks." Tord broke in roughly, his hand up for silence. "Help me here, Patrick."
For a moment, he thought the Polish soldier was going to refuse. His pale green eyes scrutinized the restrained test subject with pity, but a heartbeat later he obediently joined Tord. Even if they're in less than good terms with each other for their disagreement over Tom's treatment, Tord knew he would never outright refuse an order from him. Especially now that he's on thin ice.
Together, they worked on undoing the straps of the muzzle. Tord unclasped the ones in the front, directly facing Tom, while Pat undid the straps at the back of the asset's head.
The muzzle came lose with a resonating 'click'.
With a jerk of his head, the monster tossed the mouth guard piece aside and knocked Patrick a couple steps back. His hair bristled with rage as he sets his sights on Tord, who stood directly in front of him. He bared his fangs into an angry snarl and growled menacingly, rising as much as he was allowed to stare the Norsk down. His muscles bunched and he lunged forward with a shriek, sinking his teeth into Tord's arm.
"Careful, Thomas. You don't wanna break your teeth now, do you?"
Tord watched in a mixture of awe and amusement as Tom latched onto his robotic arm, biting him. He could see dents starting to form in the metal where the fangs tried to pierce him.
He knocked him back, dislodging him from his arm, and grabbed a fistful of Tom's hair – or was it fur, now? – and pinned his head down on the table. The creature hissed in protest, and kept trying to veer his head around to snap at his forearm.
"Aw, what's the matter?" Tord cooed mockingly, watching the asset struggle beneath his hand. "Can't speak while in this form? What a shame."
All he received was a loud rumbling growl in response.
With a nod, Patrick took his place in holding down Tom's head while Tord crouched down and pried the test subject's mouth open to have a better look at the fangs. He kept biting down on his metallic fingers. Peering closely, Tord took note of the long sharp teeth. Curiously, it appears that Tom's tongue has also changed. It turned forked, like a snake's. Other than that there wasn't anything else of particular interest. There were no rows and rows of sharp teeth extending along the mouth cavity, like sharks do, or venom in the canines. Although, since the effects of the serum range so closely to zombification, could Tom's bite be contagious and spread the same monstrous outcome? That would make things a whole lot easier.
Tord elected to test that out for later.
He quickly strapped the muzzle back on Tom, who kept hissing and growling at him and tossing his head from side to side.
"Will you quit hissing at me already?" Tord snapped, glaring down at the test subject. Then he grinned. "You know, Tom; if I didn't know any better I would think you enjoy being in this form-"
The monster thrust his head forward and head-butted him right in the face, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Tord staggered back with a yelp of alarm, holding his already injured nose which openly started to bleed once more. "Argh! Not again!" It had taken a while and multiple tissues to stop the first bleeding, so to have it restarted was a pain in the ass.
The monster made a rough noise, a mixture of a bark and a growl, almost as if he were laughing at the misery he imposed.
Tord glared back at him balefully. "Why you-!"
A soft chuckle followed by the clearing of a throat broke in. "Sir, I think it might have been the horns." Paul pointed out.
Tord blinked. What is he talking about now?
"I mean, he has horns; he probably sees you as a threat or something." Paul continued, gesturing toward his leader's hair with barely suppressed amusement.
His words finally clicked with Tord and he scowled at the line of thinking. "Oh haha ha. How clever! He has horns. I have horns. We're two males fighting for dominance – clearly he is imposed by me. It's not like – oh, I don't know – that's just Tom being Tom or anything!" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Now, are you gonna make any more ridiculous animal comparisons or can we continue to analyse the specimen?"
Getting back on track, Tord swiped away the dribble of blood from his nose and turned his attention to Tom's ears; which flickered every now and then.
He cautiously ran his fingers along the twitching appendages. Tufts of fur sticking out their tips and insides. What is their hearing range? They're so long, Tord wouldn't be surprised if Tom could hear every heartbeat in this room. He can't wait to see the full extent of all the monster's senses!
His hands drifted to the test subject's hair. Passing his hands over and over it, Tord can't tell much difference from Tom's ordinary hair. However, farther down nearing the back of the neck the hair tinged from light brown to a faint purple.
Tord pursued his lips and yanked a few strands of hair, one brown and the other one purple, and put the samples on a petri dish each. The monster howled and flailed around, but Tord ignored him. He wondered if there were any differences between the properties of both samples.
"Patrick, get me a snippet of his horns." Tord ordered with a flick of his wrist, as he continued on with the inspection. His gaze raking over the elongated arms and legs.
He reached the tail, where Paul was still restraining it, and shooed his Commander aside to take over. He grabbed the trashing tail by the tip. The fur, which Tord's sure is what it is this time, felt velvety to touch unlike Tom's hair. It continued to writhe in his grasp, trying to escape and swipe him away like it did with Paul.
The tail is pretty strong. He mused to himself, feeling the tissue of muscles constricting in his grasp. To have flung Paul away so effortlessly like that…
His train of thought was cut off abruptly by Paul's high-pitched squealing. Tord and Pat whipped their heads in his direction.
"What happened?"
"He has toe beans!" Paul announced, beaming with excitement as he held up one of Tom's feet and showed the paw pads as he pressed down on them, sheathing and unsheathing the claws repeatedly. The asset let out an indignant hiss and kept trying to pull his foot back out of Paul's hold.
Tord face palmed with an exasperated sigh.
He only wants to have a detailed look at Tom and understand his monster form, is that too much to ask? When he wasn't dealing with Patrick's silent treatment, he had to deal with Paul losing his sh#t over the minimalist of things! Of course, Tord was just as equally excited about this discovery as he is, granted! But couldn't Paul at least curb it like him and be more professional about it?
Tord pinched the bridge of his nose but wisely decided not to comment on Paul's misplaced enthusiasm. On the upside, it seems his Commander has forgotten he is supposed to be disappointed in him.
He turned away and grabbed a syringe. A sample of Tom's blood in this form could be useful – he wants to take a sample of everything if it means getting closer to understanding the monster.
As he stabbed the needle into the back of Tom's neck, eliciting a loud barking cry from the test subject, Patrick approached at the same time with a tool in his hands to chip off a tiny piece of the horns. Tord watched him. His eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the flash of sorrow in the Polish man's eyes as he glanced at Tom, and quickly chipped the tip of one of the horns for a sample; as if he did this to spare Tom from prolonging the pain.
"Thomas is fine." Tord told him with a mixture of annoyance and concern, but he hid the latter behind a matter-of-factly tone. "He's been shifting into a monster for at least the past ten years. Any pain we put him through should be the equivalent of a pinch, and that's it."
Patrick glanced at him, his honeyed green eyes dull as he gave a curt nod of understanding.
Tord fumed, but stifled the urge to sigh out loud or rebuke him. He won't let his deputy ruin the fun of researching and investigating Tom's monster form now that he finally has what he wants! The experiments are just getting started.
"I think we're done with the inspection for today." He decided, laying the samples they've collected on a table for further research. "We'll collect more samples if needed later on. Now, let's transfer Thomas to the enclosure and observe what he is capable of."
(Meanwhile…)
The sun had started to set, and shadows began to stretch across the city. As Edd put on his jacket and headed toward the building's exit, thinking longingly about what this camping trip might entail, he spotted Matt stepping out of his apartment and approach him.
What does he want? Edd wondered nervously.
He halted to wait for his friend. "Don't start complaining or arguing!" He burst out, before Matt had the chance to say a word. He knew it wasn't advisable to speak to his friend this way, but he just couldn't stomach another overly-worried lecture. "Reagan is waiting for me, and I'm going, whether you're happy about it or not."
"I'm not happy about it." Matt admitted, his eyes narrowing. "But maybe not for the reason you think."
What does that mean? "Don't you think I can look after myself?" Edd retorted, a growl in his voice. "Listen to yourself—you almost sound like my mother! I'll be fine."
Matt nodded, unexpectedly serious. "I know that. But I can still be worried about you, Edd." He shifted his legs uncomfortably. He's been acting strangely jumpy as of late. "I've been giving a lot of thought about this." He admitted. "Don't you think you might have become a little too reckless since Tom died?"
Edd was already on edge, and the mention of his dear, eyeless friend made his self-control snap. Just when I finally feel like I don't have to feel guilty every moment . . . "I don't want to hear about Tom anymore!" He spat.
Matt's blue eyes widened in a mixture of shock and dismay. He stared at Edd in silence for several heartbeats before he spoke again. "How can you want to forget Tom?" He asked incredulously.
"That's not what I meant—" Edd began, horrified that Matt believed he could ever feel that way, but the ginger had already spun around and retreated to his apartment.
Watching Matt's retreating back, Edd felt needles of guilt stab his heart. Of course I'm not trying to forget Tom. I didn't mean it like that! Did I?
He searched his heart, and realized no, he didn't.
He never wanted to forget Tom, his dear friend, who had always been able to make him smile; even if unintentionally. All he had wanted was to push away the painful memories, and not always think about how much he was missing him. But Matt hadn't given him a chance to explain.
He heard a loud car honk coming from right outside the building. His ride is here, no doubt.
Deciding to talk things out with Matt when he returns, Edd grabbed his bags and left.
"Eddie!" Just as he'd expected, Reagan was standing outside by a dark moss green van; his arms wide open to greet him with a hug.
"Hey, Reagan!"
Edd returned the gesture, completely unaware of the lone figure watching them from one of the balconies of his building, through the lens of a digital camera.
"So you're the bastard stirring up trouble, huh?" Eduardo muttered to himself, gritting his teeth as he observed Edd hug and chat with the Irishman. It's a shame he couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance. But thankfully, with the help of the zoom in feature of his camera he could just as easily read their lips to figure out.
He snapped several photos of their interaction, and made sure to snap one of the car's number plate for good measure.
He gotta hand it to the airhead – this Reagan fellow sure is shady. Several times Eduardo felt a churning sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watched them interact. Also he could've sworn at some point, when the Irishman looped an arm around Edd's shoulders and guided the brunet toward the car… he grinned and stared at Edd with a look of greed and something else more sinister. As if Edd were a great prize to own.
How does the loser not see anything wrong with this? Eduardo wondered, completely baffled. That guy has "bad news" written all over it!
"Investigating, I see?"
The voice, although somewhat unexpected, did not startle Eduardo at all as he glanced over his shoulder.
Mark blinked at him smugly. "I knew you wouldn't stay out of this."
"Congrats. Want a medal?" Eduardo snorted dryly, and continued watching the scene below.
"Does that mean you'll take the case?" Mark questioned, stepping closer to him.
"Case?" The burly brunet echoed, a light chuckle to his voice. "This is hardly a case! No, no. I'm just… confirming if the airhead's suspicions have any weight to them. That's all."
"You care about Matt, don't you?"
Eduardo nearly had an aneurysm hearing that. He quickly recovered and scoffed disbelievingly. "Don't be ridiculous, Mark! Of course not – me? Caring about that doofus? Why would you even suggest that?"
"You can't fool me, Eduardo. I've seen the way you keep looking out for him whenever we're together." Mark argued, his blue eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't be out here following his suggestion if you didn't. Plus; you seemed pretty upset that he got punched in the face."
For a while, neither of them spoke. Eduardo ignored his friend's accusation by focusing on the situation happening below them. He watched as Edd got in the car with Reagan, and the van drove away.
"Here," Eduardo handed his camera over to Mark. "Tell me what you think." He changed the subject.
Mark began to flip through the pictures he'd taken; humming deep in thought as he carefully looked over each one of them. He blinked slowly. "Well, it does seem like there's more to this story than meets the eye." He observed, pausing on one of the many pictures of Reagan – this one of him staring at Edd with a look of triumph. "No normal person looks at someone like that unless they have ulterior motives." He turned to Eduardo. "So Matt's suspicions are legitimate – though I never doubted him. But what are you going to do about it?"
"Me? Nothing." Eduardo shook his head with a disdainful sniff. "I already told you, I'm not getting involved in this. I only wanted to take a look to see if this situation is as bad as the airhead described. Now that I have my answer, I will simply return working on the job I already have and not stick my nose in other people's business."
"A little too late for that, don't you think?" Mark retorted scornfully, his blue eyes glittering like ice. Then he relaxed, his expression softening. "I know you better than anyone else, Eduardo. You're already involved, and I know you won't sit back and let this play out without trying to do something about it."
"What the heck do you want me to do, huh?" Eduardo demanded, his muscles tensing. "I'm just a jerk who bullies people, not some knight in shining armor! I'm not the right person to help in this situation. The loser is on his own."
"And what about Matt? Are you willing to let him handle this by himself, too? You saw the state he's in - he's desperate! Desperate enough to trust us for help."
As he spoke, Mark glimpse the burly brunet wince at his words; looking away to avoid displaying emotions. Years living together, Mark could read him like a book. He can tell Eduardo was torn about some inner conflict. Then realization dawned on him, and his eyes sparked.
"He… he reminds you of Jon, doesn't he?"
He noticed the way Eduardo went rigid at his question, and even though he didn't so much as glance back at him, that was sufficient answer for itself. Mark's gaze softened, and he stepped closer to rest a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I don't blame you. I can see how you would think that way." Mark began, his voice low. "They're both wide-eyed innocent and naive. Sometimes I make that connection myself."
Eduardo swallowed thickly. "I'm not trying to replace him."
"I know you're not. Never imagined that you would." The blond comforted. "But I also know you never truly forgive yourself for what happened to Jon, and I think – correct me if I'm wrong – that you see Matt as a chance to redeem yourself."
His words resonated deep within Eduardo. He felt a shard of ice pierce his heart. Could it be true? Did he make the connection between Jon and the airhead without realizing? It would explain these strange sensations he's been having around the ginger. All the times he'd "saved" him, and then the sudden burst of anger and protectiveness he felt when he discovered the dark bruise swelling on his eye.
Unable to answer, Eduardo bowed his head and sighed, his shoulders sagging.
"Take the case, Eduardo." Mark urged sympathetically. "I know deep down you really want to – you wouldn't be here otherwise."
"But," Eduardo choked, fighting back the overwhelming wave of emotions that run rampant through him. "But what about my case?"
"It can wait for now. You've been at this for little more than a year now with no definitive leads." The blond reassured solemnly. He glanced away. "Chances are, there won't be any conclusive leads for a while."
Eduardo sighed, the wind buffeting his hair and jacket. "I… I miss Jon." His voice was hardly more than a whisper.
"I know." Mark gave him a sad smile, looking away to peer at the dusk sky. "I miss him too."
Eduardo regained his composure, and turned away with a hardened expression of determination. "Invite the doofus over to my place later. If I'm gonna do this, we need to do it the proper way. We have things that need to be discussed."
Mark stepped back and followed him inside, a faint smile on his face. "As you wish."
(Meanwhile…)
How can you want to forget Tom? Matt's words echoed in Edd's mind as he and Reagan drove up the hill toward their destination. Even though he kept reasoning to himself that wasn't the case at all, the words continued replaying like a broken record; frustrating the h#ll out of him.
Edd pushed the thought way, refusing to acknowledge it any longer.
"We're here." Reagan announced, breaking the silence. "Pull over." He told the driver, who simply nodded and did as he was told.
Edd looked out the window. He could glimpse the looming silhouettes of the cabins contrasted with the rosy blue sky of sunset. The city long gone behind them. Around them, a swath of tall trees stretched in every direction. A large lake could be seen shimmering between the trees, the sky reflected on its surface.
They stepped out of the vehicle once it came to a complete stop. Edd and Reagan picked up their stuff, and started walking toward the camp.
On their way, Edd noticed a sign that said "Welcome to Camp Littlepine!" Edd furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Uhh, Reagan? Where exactly are we?"
"I did tell you we're going camping, right?" Reagan glanced back at him, taking the lead.
"Yeah, but… I thought you meant like the "pitching tents" kind of camping." Edd explained.
Truthfully he wasn't complaining. It's been a really long time since he last went camping - he probably would've spent the night in a crummy badly pitched tent and be exposed to the freezing cold.
"Nah, this is even better; I promise you. This camp is abandoned, and is ours for the taking." Reagan told him simply, staring far off into the trees. "And I think our companions are already here and waiting for us."
Edd followed his gaze, spotting a flicker of light from a fireplace in the distance. They continued the haul their bags along the path leading toward the camp. The only sound was the faint creaking of branches as a breeze wafted through the trees.
At last, they arrived at the camp and were met with a group of four standing by the campfire in the center. They all turned to look at them as they approached.
"Sup, guys!" Reagan greeted with a lazy wave, dropping his bag as soon as they reached the group.
"Reagan! Hey, you made it."
Edd followed a little slower, regarding the four strangers with an appraising gaze as they each greeted Reagan.
"Everyone here knows me… so go on and introduce yourselves!" Reagan invited, waving his hand at the five people surrounding him to encourage them to come forward.
A young woman with wavy dirty blond hair, fawn white skin, and huge round glasses over a pair of green eyes, glanced around shyly and ducked her head. "My name's Sasha."
"I'm Benjamin!" An even younger man with chestnut messy hair and warm olive skin gave an eager little bounce as he spoke. "It's great to be here!"
"And I'm called Michael." A man with dark brown skin and buzz-cut stepped forward with a friendly smile.
Edd shuffled his feet nervously as he gazed at the strange faces around him. He found himself accidentally locking eyes with a young woman with pale skin, monolid eyes and long black hair. Her soft round face didn't match with her glaring gaze. Though she was slighter and softer in looks than the others, her dark brown eyes were sharp and intelligent.
"Rosalyn." She grunted simply.
Edd waved around to everyone, trying to be friendly. "Hello, I'm Edd."
They mingled around for a little bit, chatting and making small talk with one another. Reagan watched them interact, very pleased with himself as he unpacked the beer from his bag and started handing cans around to everyone. They'll start off stiff and awkward around each other for now, but give it time to socialize and a bit of alcohol in their systems to loosen up and the five will be best buds by the time this trip is over.
"Aiight everyone!" Reagan clapped his hands together loudly, strolling to the center to draw everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, our camping trip can finally commence! Thank you all so much for accepting my invitation – I really want to spend some quality time with each and every one of you before my business trip is over. I hope we get to share some unforgettable moments in this trip."
"Sooo… why exactly is this camp abandoned, anyway?" Benjamin prompted, gazing around the camp with wide blue eyes.
Reagan opened his mouth to answer, but Michael beat him to it. "Don't you know? There was a massacre here not too long ago. Only a handful of campers survived."
Everyone exchanged alarmed glances.
"Ma-massacre?" Sasha stammered, her eyes darting around nervously.
"Great! Just what I needed to hear." Rosalyn muttered. Then to Reagan, she narrowed her eyes and added, "what made you think camping here was a good idea?"
Reagan shrugged slyly. "No one comes here, so we have the whole place to ourselves. No work pitching tents when we got cabins. And who doesn't like a spooky story to add to the place and make things more interesting?" After a moment's hesitation, he could tell none of them were reassured by his words. His eyes darkened. "Oh, c'mon guys, this place has been abandoned for four years. Nobody comes up here!"
Edd stayed silent throughout the argument, just listening. It was creepy to think they've been brought to a place that held such tragedy and horror, and are expected to spend the night here; but on the other hand, he always was one for adventure and exploration so he didn't particularly mind the setting all that much. If anything, it reminded him of the sort of mischief he and his friends used to do.
"You don't think there are bears around here, do you?" Sasha squeaked, suddenly looking frightened.
Rosalyn didn't seem fazed. "Well, even if there are I don't think singing kumbaya around the fireplace and make friendship bracelets will help us much."
"Does anyone remember the talk of a beast wandering around killing people not too long ago?" Benjamin reminded nervously. "What if it's still out there?"
Reagan watched the on-going argument with frustration rising within him. Not this beast nonsense again. Perhaps luring a bunch of stupid sheep together had been a bad idea. He shook his head. No. If the five of them develop a bond toward each other, the more likely they will join the Red Army when asked. If one goes, the rest will follow.
"Aiight everyone, simmer down will yah?" Reagan spoke up, waving his arms around to diffuse the conversation. "This place, despite what may have happened here, is completely and utterly safe! I wouldn't have deliberately brought us to spend the night here if I wasn't sure if it was." Oh no. That comes in later. "So let's all just relax, lay back, drink a couple beers and bond, aiight? There's nothing to worry about."
One by one, everyone began to settle down; finally reassured by Reagan's words.
They started chatting to one another again. Edd found himself conversing with Sasha and Benjamin; the latter describing a hiking trip he went to last spring. Edd listened politely to the end of the story, chuckling and already feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in.
"Oh, so guys," Reagan interrupted, walking up to them, "I found something, kinda amazing."
Edd furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"
"I'm not gonna tell you. You have to come see it for yourselves. Come on, it's this way."
"Where?" Sasha prompted, appearing hesitant to follow but complied a heartbeat later so as to not be left behind on her own.
"Right around here, guys. Gonna blow your mind." Reagan led the group down a path around the lake, taking the chance to show them around the whole camp. "Pick whichever cabin you want to sleep in." He suggested casually. "We can even have a whole cabin for every one of us if you don't feel like sharing."
"Sweet!" Benjamin whistled, glancing from side to side, his blue gaze taking in every detail.
"Uhh, you're not gonna catch me sleeping in that cabin over there." Rosalyn spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to the last cabin on the far right, right in front of the lake.
The cabin was in shambles; the door barely on its hinges and flapping audibly in the wind with a resonating creak. Some of the windows are broken, but disturbingly enough there was what appeared to be blood stains smeared on the glass, and the little steps leading up to the door are wrecked. The group, minus Reagan, all gulped apprehensively at the sight.
"Oh man, that must be where the massacre took place." Michael broke the silence uneasily.
"Dude, I dare you to go inside." Reagan grinned widely at him.
Michael shook his head, taking a couple steps back. "No way, man."
"Just a quick little peek." Reagan rested a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Unless you're too much of a chicken to go?"
Michael glared at him. "I got self-preservation and common sense, unlike you. I am not going in there!"
"I can go." Edd happily volunteered, if only to stop the argument from escalating any further and because he's always been one for exploring even the most morbid of places.
Everyone turned around to glance at him in surprise as he stepped forth. Reagan clapped a hand on his back hard as he passed, nearly tipping him over. "Way to go Eddie!" He smirked. "See? Eddie here's not a coward – he ain't afraid of a little bit of dried blood!"
Reagan's words caused a chill of unease to ripple down Edd's spine. For some reason he thought the Irishman could be goading the others for not behaving accordingly. But that's ridiculous; why would Reagan care about the way they act?
He pushed his thoughts aside and pressed forward. He climbed the broken little steps cautiously. A cold breeze blew, ridging the surface of the lake and rattling through the reeds that edge the shore and the windows of the rundown shed, creating an almost eerie sound of a low pitched whistle. Edd pushed the broken door aside and slipped inside.
The place was a mess, but no bodies. Thank goodness. Edd breathed a relieved sigh.
Just because he likes adventure, doesn't mean he wants to see a legitimate dead - not undead; he'd seen plenty of those to be a normal occurrence by now - body.
The beds are upturned and dishevelled, bed sheets sprawled around on the floor and pillows ripped to shreds; feathers littering the place. A large hole gaped one of the walls, as if something huge had burst through. Dried blood splattered all over the floor, beds, walls, and windows. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.
Edd paced further into the cabin, the wood creaking beneath his feet with every step taken. An overwhelming sense of dread followed him the longer he stayed. Edd noticed what appeared to be scratch marks along the walls and floor. An animal did this? He wondered.
The sudden crunch of glass splintering beneath his heel drew his attention.
Lifting one foot wearily, Edd inspected the item he just stepped on. A broken frame with what appears to show a squad of campers posing for the picture. The people in the photo look barely old enough to be teenagers. A chill ran down Edd's spine, making even his bones feel cold. He bent down to pick up the picture, careful with the shards of glass, when something soft and light fluttered against his fingers; he drew back to see a tuft of fur snagged on the corner of the frame.
Shaking, Edd gently teased out the fur and leaned closer to inspect it. He held it up to the shaft of moonlight that filtered through the various gaps of the rundown cabin. His eyebrows furrowed.
Purple fur? He wondered how that's even possible.
"Oi Eddie!"
Startled, he spun around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Reagan was standing behind him, surveying the place with blatant disinterest.
"You were taking too long." The Irishman told him. "What did you find?"
Edd showed him the unusual clump of fur he found. Reagan peered at it, but seemed ultimately unimpressed.
"So… a bear did this?"
Edd blinked. "Wha-? No! What kind of bear has purple fur?"
"I don't know, Eddie. I'm not a f#cking bear expert!" Reagan retorted with a roll of his eyes. "C'mon, the others are waiting."
Edd followed Reagan outside to where the others were gathered. Edd debated whether he should show off his discovery to the rest of them, but opted not to. They're already weary of this place enough as it is, it wouldn't do any good to spook them further. Edd kept the more gruesome details to himself as he told them what he found inside.
They didn't have long to ponder on the scene as Reagan urged the group on to whatever discovery he wanted to show them. The ground started to slope more steeply, with rocks jutting out here and there; patches of grass and small shrivelled bushes were rooted in the gaps between the rocks, growing more visible as winter nears its end.
Reagan reached the top first. Halting on a flattened boulder, he called back, "Come and see this!"
Edd, Michael, and Rosalyn sprang up beside him, with Benjamin and Sasha right behind. Even though the last of the sun had long gone and shadows gathered everywhere, Edd could make out the wide wooden structure just ahead of them. The half-moon, shining through thin clouds, cast beams of light that better revealed the sight before them.
It was a shed, far smaller than the sleeping cabins, with a long fence and bench with a gun rack on the side. Beyond the wooden fence, several objects ranging from bottles, sandbags and bull's-eyes lay spread out on the field ahead.
"Ta-dah!" Reagan stepped forward to show off the location. "Pretty sweet, right?"
"A… shooting range?" Rosalyn quirked an eyebrow.
"I know, right?" Reagan didn't seem to pick up on the dryness of her comment, and instead gushed over the guns. "C'mon! Just take a look at these beauties."
The group drew closer, inspecting the structure with wide curious eyes. But Edd took everything in with confusion. This is what Reagan wanted us to see? He couldn't see what the big deal is, but maybe that's because of his history of weird adventures. If anything, the shooting range caused a thorn to prick his heart with a pang of hurt.
He knows a certain someone would love this place if he were here…
"Strange… why is this even here though?" Edd observed out loud.
Benjamin blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, why is there a shooting range here to begin with? I thought this place was for children?"
Reagan shrugged. "What? Just because this place used to be for brats means they couldn't learn how to shoot? Relax, It's just for fun – no harm done." He pointed out, grabbing one of the rifles. "C'mon! Let's see which one of us shoots the most targets!" He grinned.
Everyone simultaneously shrugged and decided "why not?", and took a rifle each to try their luck. Just to pass the time with a bit of fun. Reagan pretended to join in on the fun, even though he was the one who suggested he only wanted to observe.
He didn't care much for friendly competition. He only brought them here to test out their potential skills as soldiers. It wouldn't do any good to his image if he brought five lousy recruits to Red Leader! Oh no. His boss only deserves the best, and once he sees the hard work he put in ensuring a batch of new soldiers for him, then he'll have no choice but to give him that promotion!
Reagan paced along the fence, observing each and every one handle a gun and their aim game.
Edd hit most of the targets, but wasn't really trying to. His shots were half-hearted. Reagan whistled behind him.
"Niiice! You handle a gun pretty well, Eddie."
Edd glanced at him, surprised to find the Irishman lurking behind him. "Oh, uh, thanks. I guess my time in the army hasn't gone to waste."
"Oh?" Reagan perked up immediately, grinning immensely wide. "You've been in the army before?" If Eddie is already experienced with this environment all the better. Red Leader will be impressed!
"No kidding?" Michael spoke up from the side, overhearing their conversation. "That's pretty dope."
"Impressive. But I bet you can't shoot the farthest targets!" Reagan challenged, eager to see the brunet's skills.
Edd took aim of the empty bottle standing on top of a tree stump, barely visible in the dark, and far away where it seemed to be the size of a mouse. He peered through the scope, squinting his eyes to make out its position. His finger curled on the trigger.
A shot rang out, and the bottle shattered to pieces.
"Whoo! Nice shot, Eddie!" Reagan praised.
Edd blinked at him in surprise. "That… wasn't me."
They stared at each other. Then they look around at the others, finding equally confused faces, until the line of curious looks all turned to face the last person left who turned out to be none other than Sasha; who's still taking shots at the targets and hitting every single one of them with precise motions. She only noticed their staring once she placed the rifle down, and instantly reverted to her shy attitude.
"S-sorry!" She flushed red in embarrassment, shifting her feet from side to side and pushing her glasses back to her eyes. "I used to go on hunting trips with my grandfather when I was little, so wielding a gun doesn't feel all that strange to me."
Reagan nodded, shooting her an impressed and amused look. "Duly noted."
Then the six of them returned to the fireplace and gathered around once more; drinking and telling each other stories about themselves. Oddly enough, Reagan hadn't said a word throughout the whole exchange. He seemed content just watching them interact, and drink his beer of course. Though he often pushed the others to keep on drinking more.
As the night wore on, they drank more and more, and at some point during the conversation the topic shifted from light-hearted and funny stories to sombre melancholic tales about their past.
The others' eyes were filled with sorrow, and their heads and gazes were drooping. Edd became aware of a great tide of grief and loss surging through his companions. His own lost ones came back into his mind, with pain sharper than knives.
Tom . . . and Tord. He might not be dead, but he's lost to me, just as if he were.
"Should we drink away our sorrows? I think we should drink away our sorrows. Who's game?" Reagan spoke up after a moment of silence had fallen over the group.
Before anyone knew, they began spewing their deepest darkest secrets out to each other; unknowingly prompted to do so by their so called mutual friend, who had orchestrated this entire meeting solely for the purpose of turning them vulnerable.
The five fools are pathetically easy to manipulate. Each one of them going through their own issues, but every single one of them fell for his tricks. Benjamin, who lives in an abusive household with a younger brother he would do absolutely anything to protect. Sasha, who's a top grade student but struggling to make ends meet in this economy and help her family, is totally on board for a solution, no matter how radical it may seem. Michael, a man who lived in the shadow of his more successful siblings would die for a chance to stick out and excel someplace else. Rosalyn, who was a bit more difficult to manipulate due to her guarded and distrustful nature, but after a lot of insistence on Reagan's part he managed to get through to her though exterior to find that she cared deeply about someone who's stuck in an abusive relationship and would like to help free them no matter how. And then of course, there's Edd; who's grief over the loss of his friend made him so desperate and eager to stop the pain in his heart he latched on to the first thing that promised him a chance to forget it all.
They're all so distraught, and desperate for a solution to their problems. Reagan is more than happy to deliver it to them. It feels nice to be needed like this. It really does.
(Meanwhile…)
The longer Tord watched, the more confused he felt about Tom's behaviour.
After the inspection, they had chained and escorted an angry and hissing monster through the hallways, trashing the whole way, and freed him into the enclosure Tord had made especially for the serum monster. A huge, spacious room with ledges to climb and stand on, and a pool of water. He'd been trying to get Tom to collaborate with him in the tests, but to no avail.
The test subject has done nothing but snarl, pace, hiss, jump, and growl his way ever since he was freed from the restraints and put in the enclosure. Even when Tord had administered the controlled shock on him, Tom didn't subdue. If anything, it only got him more agitated as he paced around on all fours, tail lashing back and forth behind him.
Tord wasn't sure what this meant – is this a new way of rebellion Tom was playing by acting like an absolute animal?
He watched the asset from the observatory, looking out the window separating him from the monster. His one working eye narrowed into a slit.
"I don't understand." He began thoughtfully. "Tom said he's in control, but now he won't stop behaving like… that." He glared pointedly at the test subject as he scratched his ears with one of his feet, much like a dog would do. "Is it something to do with the new serum? Is this just a temper tantrum he's throwing? Maybe since Tom has avoided turning for so long, his control isn't the same as he believed so? I don't know. What are your thoughts, Patrick?"
"So now you want to hear my input on the matter?" Pat couldn't help but retort, a flash of rage pulsed through him.
"Watch it, Pat." Tord cautioned tightly. "I have a high tolerance for misbehaviour when it comes to either of you, but I won't stand for it any longer if you keep this up."
Patrick ignored him. "You told me I am not allowed to meddle with the experiments, and I intend to follow your orders, sir." He snarled. "I can only tell you what I told you before. Tom is not mentally stable. It's likely that the serum has affected his brain in ways that compromise his sense of reasoning."
Tord glared at him, hands on hips. "Why do you care so much for him?" He couldn't help but ask.
The Polish man stared at him in dismay. "I… relate to him. Empathy just so happens to be a strong trait found in humans, and whether you like it or not, you just so happen to be one yourself." He replied. "You care for him too; you're just too damn stubborn to admit it. But when you realize it for yourself it will be too late to do a damn thing about it."
Tord blinked, shocked to silence.
Patrick glared at him for a heartbeat, then spun around and stormed off. "Now, if you excuse me; I have mountains of paperwork to deal with." The doors slid open just as Paul arrived with a tray of food in his hands. He smiled at the sight of Pat, but the Polish man walked straight past him. Paul's smile fell and his gaze landed on his leader.
"What happened? Did you guys argue again?" In hindsight, leaving those two together by themselves when they're in bad terms wasn't such a good idea.
Tord shook his head crossly. "Never mind that." He didn't understand what Patrick was trying to get at with that statement. Feelings are worthless, and his silly little compassion for Tom just proves it. "Did you bring test subject #1826's meal?"
Paul sighed, pulling the metal lid off to reveal a bloody juice steak. "Red meat… just like you demanded it, sir."
"Excellent!"
He took the tray from his Commander and walked over to the control panel and turned on the mic into the enclosure. "I hope you're hungry, Thomas – your meal is here!"
The monster's ears pricked and he let out a feral growl.
Tord paced over to the dispenser and placed the tray of food inside. He's not insane enough to go into the enclosure himself! When he was done delivering the asset's meal, he dusted his hands and turned around only to halt at the sight of Paul scribbling on a blackboard.
"Paul… what. Is. That?"
The blackboard held a drawing of a score table between "cat vs dog" and a question above saying: "what is the monster?" Paul smiled sheepishly.
"Well, I just thought that, maybe, for research and all we should test whether Tom is more cat or dog like in this form." The Commander explained, wincing with every word as if only now he realized how silly this idea is. "You know… for science?"
Tord frowned and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Where to even begin?
"First of all…" The Norsk began after recomposing his patience. "We are not going to see what animal attributes Tom has in this form, because that would not only a gigantic waste of time but also incredibly ridiculous. Secondly, the world isn't exclusively divided between cats and dogs. Thirdly, get that blackboard out of my sight right now or so help me god."
Paul hurriedly complied with his request, wheeling the blackboard out of the room with a disappointed sigh. With a shake of his head, Tord turned back to observatory window; just in time to see the monster sniff the delivered meal cautiously. Tord frowned. What is it this time? Tom suddenly lashed out at the tray and swiped it aside with one massive paw, the contents slamming against the far wall and scattering everywhere.
Tord bristled. He pressed the button on his robotic arm and delivered a controlled shock on the test subject. The monster screeched, writhing on the floor until the jolts subsided and he began to roll around as if to lessen the pain he just received.
"How dare you?" Tord roared, absolutely livid. Tom rejecting his food – again – wasn't that surprising; but toppled with Patrick's insubordination and Paul's misplaced excitement; it became a tipping point in his temper. "Hate it to break to you, Thomas – but you've already turned! Can you stop this pointless resistance against eating meat already?"
Tom growled his way, his hair fluffed up.
"You know, I considered for a long time whether to change back your diet to chicken and fish only since you did comply with my request for shifting." Tord went on. "But, you have also been an incredible pain in my ass by resisting constantly and those dirty little tricks you played on me doesn't help matters. So red meat only it is!"
Hissing and snarling, the monster scored the steel floor with his claws repeatedly, creating an agonizingly loud high-pitched screeching sound that grated on Tord's ears. The Norsk glared down at the asset. "Will you knock it off, already?!" He snapped.
The creature dropped to a crouch, muscles tensing in his legs, glaring straight at him on the other side of the glass. He suddenly charged at Tord, pelting across the enclosure to ram against the glass head on. Tord stepped back, wide eyed with alarm. Thankfully the glass was heavily fortified, so no dents or cracks were made by the impact. But that didn't stop the monster from continuously claw and snap at the glass, trying to get at him.
"Awn, bless your little bromeliaceous brain – I'm not in the same room as you!" Tord jeered as he drew closer. "Did the serum make you grow dumber by any chance?"
He watched in awe as Tom reared back on his legs and slowly rose to his full height, easily towering over him in his form with his teeth still bared in a snarl. Tord craned his neck back to look up and forced himself not to be intimidated by the big change of height between them. He was so used to being an inch or two taller than Tom, but to suddenly be turned into the definitely short one was alarming.
"Tom," Tord regarded the monstrous figure standing before him steadily, "I know we have our fair share of stand-offs, but we usually know when to quit and start taking things seriously." Tom's ears twitched. "You lost, Thomas. You transformed – get over it! I would greatly appreciate if you could stop this unruly behaviour and cooperate with me from now on."
A deep growl rumbled from the monster, his tail whipping to and fro. With one last contemptuous hiss, he turned and dashed away; leaping to one of the ledges with one powerful jump and settled himself at the top, still glowering down at Tord even from afar.
Anger flared in his eye. "You know what? Fine! Be that way." Tord shouts, unable to take the stress of arguing with Pat, Paul, and then deal with Tom's sh#t all in the same day within the spam of a few hours. His earlier excitement was gone and replaced with frustration. Things just weren't following through as they should. "Be as difficult as you want – see if I care! Just hope you don't regret it later, Thomas."
Tom yawned, showing a mouthful of spiky teeth and his tail curled. Tord observed him. His expectations for the monster project seem so far from reality now. He hopes all these issues piling up against him don't put a damper on the experiments...
(Meanwhile…)
Inside Edd's apartment, Matt poured cat food into Ringo's bowl and petted the gray tabby as she started eating in quick famished gulps. It worried him how skinny Ringo has gotten, and he dreaded the possibility that Edd might have started neglecting her, albeit unintentionally, in favour of Reagan. Edd didn't even instruct him to take care of her while he was gone.
A knock sounded on the door. "Matt? Are you in there?"
Matt perked up at the sound of Mark's voice. He breathed out a sigh, wondering what his blond counterpart wants now. He doesn't feel up for a makeover session tonight; being too distressed with his predicament with Edd.
He opened the door to greet him, his gaze downcast. "Oh, hi Mark. You need something?"
Mark eyed him from head to toe, taking in his worn out appearance. "Are you… doing okay?" He prompted worriedly.
"Not really, actually." Matt shook his head, unable to go into further details without heading into a three hour rant about his problems. Mark wouldn't want to listen to him whine about his life, anyway. "But anyway, what can I do for you?"
"Eduardo wants to have a word with you."
His words caused Matt to freeze in shock, and his blood to turn ice cold in his veins. Eduardo wants to talk… to me? Apprehension flickered inside of him at the thought. Whatever for? Even though the burly brunet did somewhat comfort him after his last encounter with Reagan, the man still unnerved him greatly. He seemed especially upset after he asked him for help, and Matt felt foolish for even trying.
As if reading his mind, Mark continued with a more reassuring tone. "Don't worry. It's nothing bad, I promise." He turned away, gesturing for the ginger Brit to follow him. "He… well, he only wants to discuss a few things with you. You know; about your little problem."
Understanding dawned on Matt, and he obediently followed suit. Nervousness still pricked at the hairs on the back of his neck with each step, wondering what exactly Eduardo wants to talk to him about. Maybe he wants to drive home how stupid my idea was. He thought gloomily.
He tried to stop his legs from trembling as they drew to a stop by the door to Eduardo's apartment, loud crashing sounds and heavy rustling could be heard coming from inside along with muffled curses. Matt raised an eyebrow but wisely did not comment on it. Mark rolled his eyes and knocked on the door.
"He's here."
The noises inside ceased, as if that were confirmation to proceed.
Mark faced Matt again with a nod of his head. "You go right on in. It's okay."
Matt's eyes stretched wide with apprehension. "You mean, you're not coming in with me?" He exclaimed. "I'm talking to him by myself?!"
"You're gonna do just fine in there. This discussion is between the two of you only." Mark told him, clasping the ginger's shoulder in a comforting manner. "Don't be scared. Remember what I told you about Eduardo?"
Matt furrowed his eyebrows, thinking hard. "That… he can look intimidating," he recalled, "but deep down he's a softie?"
The blond nodded in approval. "I'll be back in my place, if either of you need me." And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Matt on his own in front of Eduardo's doorstep.
Gulping, Matt lifted his chin and reached for the doorknob as bravely as he could. If he can survive an encounter with Reagan, then Eduardo should be a walk in the park! But the idea of meeting the burly brunet by himself still stirred conflicted feelings within him. When he first proposed his wild idea the previous day, at least Mark had been there to quell the other's temper if things got out of hand.
Now, he's on his own.
Please don't punch me. Please don't punch me!
He opened the door, peeking inside wearily. "Hello?" He called out, feeling as if he were stepping into the lion's den. No answer. "Eduardo? Are you there?" He slipped inside, his gaze flicking all over the dim place. With a pang in his heart, Matt remembered who this place used to belong to. He could hardly recognize it now. The blinds were shut, and papers scattered everywhere, and in the far corner of the living room was a board of sorts covered up by a sheet.
But no sign of Eduardo anywhere.
Matt squinted his eyes, stepping closer. What was behind the sheet? Walking farther into the apartment he reached out his hand, ready to grasp the sheet and pull it back.
"Don't."
Instantly flinching back, Matt whipped around in alarm and met with Eduardo's stern stare boring down on him. "E-Ed-Eduardo! I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to-" He started apologizing profusely, breaking to sweat.
"It's fine." Eduardo cut him off coolly. "No harm done." His gaze flitted over the covered board next to them and sighed. "It's just… it's something from my work, you know?"
Matt rubbed his own shoulder uneasily. "Right, yeah…" He trailed off.
"How's your eye doing?"
The question took Matt by surprise. He touched his healing eye subconsciously. "Fine! It's- it's doing fine, actually."
Eduardo nodded, shifting his feet in discomfort and cleared his throat. "Anyways, let's get on with this." He sighed, and gestured for the man opposite of him to take a seat on the couch. Matt scampered over to comply as quickly as possible, and sat down with both hands on his knees as he waited for Eduardo to begin.
The broad-shouldered man paced in front of him. "I, uh, though about what you told us of Edd and, well, I decided to follow your suggestion."
"You did?" Matt sat on the edge of his seat.
Eduardo nodded. "I observed them from my balcony, and yeah, I agree with you that something is not quite right about this."
"You do?!" Matt's heart soared with hope.
"However," Eduardo continued, his voice hardened. "With that said, I cannot intervene in this situation without any legitimate proof. If Edd is to stop meeting with that guy, then I'm gonna need to have some dirt to convince him."
Matt tipped his head, seeming confused. "Okay… but I'm not sure what do I have to do with this?"
"It means, that in order for me to snoop around where I shouldn't without getting into trouble about it, I'm gonna need you to formally hire me."
His words took Matt by surprise. He blinked, wide eyed. "Hire you?" He echoed, staring at the man before him with a mixture of wonder and bewilderment. "I don't understand… what exactly is your work, anyway? You always seem so busy whenever you mention it."
Eduardo sighed, straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin to adapt a more "professional" outlook. "I'm a private investigator. A detective, of sorts…"
Hearing this, Matt gasped and looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time; awe glowing in his eyes. "You mean you're like… Sherlock Holmes?" He whispered, barely containing his excitement at this revelation.
Eduardo frowned. "Yeah, just like Sherlock Holmes." His voice rumbled so deeply it sounded more like a growl.
Matt gasped, his hands flying to the sides of his face in amazement. "Oh my gosh! Have you ever defeated any bad guys? Oh oh! What sort of crimes have you solved? How do you know when you found a clue in a crime scene? Oh, do you have a pipe like detectives usually do-"
He broke off as Eduardo clamped his mouth shut with one hand. The brunet stared him down.
"Focus. We're not here to talk about what I do for a living, I need you to focus and give me something to work with here. Besides, none of the things you just asked apply to what I do. My work tends to be a lot more subtle than that." Eduardo sat down across from him once he was sure the chatty ginger wasn't going to go off in another excited bout of questions. "Now, I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything there is to know about this Reagan douche. Anything you can remember. It is vital for the investigation."
"Hang on, so you're saying that our plan to stop Edd from meeting with Reagan… is to what exactly?" Matt prompted, trying to keep up with everything that's happened once his excitement dwindled. This was a lot for him to take all in at once.
Eduardo face palmed. "The plan is for you to hire me to investigate Reagan, so I may find something to present Edd when I try and talk him out of it. I can't dig around into people's private lives without a justifiable reason, so opening an official case on Reagan is the only way to go about this. And if I go up to Edd empty handed he won't take me seriously, I know it." He explained as calmly as he could, holding in his temper from bursting. "He won't like that I'm involved in this; however, if he sees that we have gathered evidence against Reagan, showing that he is indeed dangerous, this should be proof enough to steer him away for good."
"But what if you can't find it?" Matt questioned, concern crossing over his features. "What if all of this really is based off a hunch we had and Reagan is completely normal?"
I doubt it. Eduardo narrowed his eyes. Given the way he saw the Irishman interact with the loser was any indication, he knew there had to be something more going on in this situation. Still, he answered as professionally as he could. "Worst case scenario, we find nothing on the guy and we were wrong – but at least we can be reassured he is not someone to worry about. But c'mon, do you believe that for even a second?" He prompted, one eyebrow raised. Matt shook his head after a moment's hesitation. "I thought so." Eduardo crossed his legs and sat back. "Now, tell me everything you know about this fellow – anything you can remember. Even the smallest details can be important."
"Okay!"
Unprompted, Matt began to fumble around with the inner pockets of his overcoat. Eduardo stared at him in confusion.
"Wha- what are you doing?"
Matt glanced back at him questioningly, holding out a piggy bank from his pocket. "I- I just thought that… since I'm hiring you and all, shouldn't I have to pay you for it?"
Understanding dawned on Eduardo, who immediately shook his head profusely, palms out. "Oh no no, you don't have to. I mean, we're only doing this for formality sake – I'm the one offering to go through with this for you." He placed his hand on the piggy bank and pushed it back to Matt's chest. "Seriously doofus, I can't accept this. Keep it."
Blinking, Matt gazed at him in awe. "Thank you, but... why do you suddenly want to help me? What changed your mind?"
Eduardo stared back at him; taking in the ginger's wide blue eyes piercing right into his soul with an innocent and hopeful gaze, and an image of Jon briefly flashed through his brain for a split second. He sighed and shrugged. "I just… thought better of it. It's nothing, really-"
He cut off abruptly as arms wrapped tightly around his torso, squeezing the life out of him. His eyes stretched so wide they might as well be bulging out of his skull.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Eduardo!"
Eduardo awkwardly patted Matt on the head. "Yes yes, this doesn't mean I want you hugging me – now knock it off!"
A loud throat clearing had his head snap up, and he locked eyes with none other than Mark; who entered the apartment with a tray of tea in his hands and a wide smug grin on his face as he looked upon the scene.
"I brought you guys tea."
Eduardo glared at him. "One word out of you about this and I will knock your teeth out!" He mouthed back to him over Matt's shoulder, who still hasn't let go of him.