A/N:
Not too much to say as I want to keep my author's notes short. Orthros is of course to thank for quality assurance, and he's really good at it. Also check out Into Darkness if you like this story.
"…" - Spoken dialogue
Italics - Michael's thoughts
'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue
/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene
"A person who truly knows you is someone who sees the pain in your eyes while everyone else still believes in the smile on your face."
-Unknown
Ch. 35 - Intervention
The bright lights of the city and the rushing sounds of the midnight traffic made everything a blur to the armed militants. One would think that at this hour, the roads would be mostly devoid of people. But Goldenrod was a massive city with millions upon millions of people, and the night life here seemed to get just as many people out and about as the daytime. And things were about to get a lot more lively.
Michael screwed the silencer onto the MP5. With the subsonic ammunition they were using, not a single shot would be heard. That is, if they managed to successfully refrain from getting into a firefight. In order to avoid alerting any lookouts, they rode in a large, black SUV. He had wished that the ride had been a quiet one. It had been on their end of things, but as for a particular zoroark… well, he desperately wished that she'd take a break from talking. Alex hadn't said a word since they'd started the mission, which was odd considering his somewhat quirky, but overall social, personality. But that was the least of their concerns right now. The more pressing matter was how they were going to bring in this thug.
"See back when I was a pup, our village was discovered by some self-proclaimed future champion," Zaire said, beginning another one of her anecdotes. "My father was pretty hostile towards him and his team - nothing good could come from a trainer finding the location to our home, ya know? I still can't figure out how he found the place. But Mom decided to be hospitable and even had him over for dinner."
"Do you ever shut up?" Michael asked, earning a sharp elbow from Thomas. She didn't even hesitate to answer.
"When I'm asleep," she said. "But anyways, back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. He got caught by a friend of ours trying to snatch a zorua younger than me. That didn't end well."
"I'm sure it didn't," John said.
"Nope. He was beaten unconscious and dropped off on the nearest road twenty kilometers away. Never saw anything from him again, or any humans there since."
"So then what made you decide to enlist?" Thomas asked.
"I wanted out of the place. Don't get me wrong, it was great and all, but I didn't feel like living my whole life in the middle of nowhere with about thirty others. But the thing is, if you wanna live in human civilization you need a job. I was already a great fighter, so military seemed like a great option. And after Johto started heavily funding the CIC, they started paying for everything for us. Food, housing, medical… it's a great gig now. Not to mention they taught me how to kick ass even more."
"Well we'll see about that. We're here," Michael said. The car was pulling had pulled to a stop behind a nearby gas station. Behind the building, there were no surveillance cameras, and with no one else in sight, the seven members of the team were able to quickly get out in secrecy. Behind the cyclone fence was a small section of woods that they would use to mask their presence until they could cross the street towards the motel. That would be where the real fun began, as they would need to strategically pick out their targets in a way that would allow them to infiltrate the buildings without being caught.
"Safeties off, thermal on," Hawkins said. One by one they climbed over the fence, wasting no time in merging with the darkness around them. On his display, Michael saw the marked motel of interest about a hundred meters south from their current location. Their plan of engagement was relatively simple: they would all stick together and provide cover while Zaire would serve as their method of getting into the individual rooms. Once they killed one of the guards up front, she would take on his appearance and knock on the doors. That would be when the Reapers stormed in to clean everyone out.
It wasn't long before they reached the clearing. A lone car drove by on the relatively non-busy road, and the thermal vision revealed a couple of men sitting outside in the rocking chairs in front of the rooms. They all wore suits, and the likely guess was that they were concealing handguns inside their coats. Not that it would do them any good.
There were three buildings in total. Two of them on each side of the main, each of them facing inwards towards a small courtyard that appeared to have received little attention since the place had first been built. All three had two stories and small porches in front of the entrance to the room, some of which had the aforementioned guards. In total he could only count three outside, one stationed at each building. "Split off into teams of two and take them out," Hawkins said over the comm line.
Michael and Alex decided to take the man on the east building. Working their way through the outskirts of the woods, they quickly crossed the road when they were out of sight, keeping close to the backside of the building. The Reapers would need to take the enemies out in very quick succession so as to avoid raising alarm. Michael flipped the safety off the submachine gun as the two of them crept slowly around the side. Looking cautiously around the corner, he could see the target of interest nearby. Across from their location, Samuel and Thomas were in a similar predicament as them. Though it would be far easier to shoot the guard on the opposite building, doing so would undoubtedly shoot into the room behind, which would probably blow their cover.
"On my go," Hawkins said. They waited in silence until they heard the Colonel's command. "Now!"
In a flash, all of the Reapers peaked around and shot their targets. Michael watched as the enemy's head snapped back - a result of the 9mm hollow-point carving a channel through his brain. It had been the first time in almost a year since he'd killed someone. The chair continued to rock, slowing to a stop as the man on top of it sat lifelessly. "All clear," said Thomas.
Zaire walked out into the open, making her way to the guard that Michael had shot. She placed a clawed hand under his chin, lifting the man's head up so that she could get a clear look at his features. "Seems easy enough." She let his head return to its previously slumped position. The zoroark then noticed that she had gotten blood on her hand. "Ew," she said, beginning to wipe it off onto his suit.
"Dammit, just get on with it. We don't have all night," Michael said.
"Fine, fine. This is just gross as shit, having someone else's blood on you."
"Well you should get used to it. Now make the illusion." By now, the others had all approached them, ready to proceed with the next phase of the mission. Zaire focused for a moment, and soon the all-too-familiar dark shroud engulfed her form, replacing it with that of the man he had just killed.
"Good," Hawkins said, "now proceed according to plan." They started with the first room on the bottom floor. Zaire took a deep breath before knocking on the door. While Thomas and Kevin kept their guns aimed outside - just in case anyone else decided to sneak up on them - the other four stood ready to breach the room. She knocked again, this time a little louder. Shuffling could be heard from the inside of the room. Whoever was inside would soon be at the door.
"Any chance this is a civilian?" John asked.
"Unlikely. Lyman's thugs have been running this joint for weeks now. This place serves more as a cover for his other illicit activities rather than a motel. Odds are you'll need to shoot whoever answers that door." The footsteps could be heard approaching before they came to a stop right on the other side of the door, no doubt looking through the peephole and seeing what appeared to be their comrade on the porch.
Michael held his breath as the door opened slowly, revealing a bare-chested man in his thirties.
"The fuck is it?" he asked, before immediately realizing the guns pointed at him. There was no time for him to make a sound as the silent shots were fired. They hurried inside, weapons raised, and found the rest of the room to be empty.
"Great work. Time to move on to the next one," Wesley said. "Keep going."
For half an hour, the Reapers went about clearing out the remaining rooms in a similar fashion. The longest part was waiting for a potential enemy to answer the doors. Not all of the rooms were occupied, after all. But they could not risk it and leave too soon, so they had to wait it out each and every time. Only after about two minutes of silence did they dismiss the room altogether and head for the next one. They alternated jobs so that nobody did all of the work. As much as he hated to admit it, Zaire was doing a relatively good job in maintaining her illusion for such a period of time. True, she may have dropped it between the room breaches, but it was still an impressive feat for a new recruit nonetheless.
Only one mishap had occurred the entire time. Turns out the guards had shifts, and one of the crooks had left his room to swap out with one of the previously killed men. Had it not been for Samuel spotting him at a short notice, he would have blown their cover.
At this point, they were working on the final and central building. They had already taken care of four of the rooms, finding only one to actually be occupied. Michael now stood against a column on the second story, keeping watch over the last of the unchecked rooms. Beneath him he heard Zaire repeat the same steps as before. It wasn't long after that he heard the four invading Reapers storm into the place, and undoubtedly shots had been fired.
"We got him," Thomas said.
"Nice going. Pickup will be there shortly. Get him out in the open."
"Alright," Thomas replied. "Get the fuck up!" Michael didn't move from his spot just in case anyone that might be in the rooms beside him decided to try and interfere. But he could see Thomas shoving the man into the clearing below. Though the thermal vision didn't allow for him to get the best view of the man's features, there was no doubt that it was him. He had his hands behind his head as the others stood nearby with their weapons pointed in his general direction.
"Stay put and you'll stay alive," Samuel warned. The crook said nothing, but did as he was told. Smart decision, Michael thought.
"Well," a certain zoroark said behind him.
"Well what?"
"I'm not hearing any apologies," Zaire said.
"For?" he asked.
"For doubting me. Face it, you were wrong. I pulled this job off without a hitch," she replied with a smug grin.
"It wasn't hard at all. Everything went according to plan, and we did all the killing."
"C'mon," she said, "give me some credit. It would have been a lot harder without my skills."
"If I tell you 'good job,' will you get off my back about it?" He desperately wished that she would, then maybe she could go irritate the captive.
"Mmm… no promises. But it'd be a good start." He debated upon whether or not to say it when he noticed another large SUV slowing to a stop along the road.
"Is that ours?" Kevin asked.
"That can't be," Wesley asked. "Stay alert." They all pointed their weapons at the vehicle, ready to fire at the slightest sign of trouble. The car remained still for a moment before continuing on the road once again. The hell was that?
"Guess we'd better clear the rest of these," Zaire said once everything had returned to normal. That actually was a good point. That was part of the plan - they couldn't just leave any potential enemies alive. They only had room for one prisoner anyways, and this would need to be done. They may as well take care of it now.
"What do you think Hawkins?" Michael asked.
"Go ahead. I'd be surprised if there was anyone else in there, but it doesn't hurt to check." Gaining the confirmation, Zaire immediately disguised herself once again, assuming the appearance of the man who had been dead for nearly an hour now. She knocked on the first door, beginning the process once again. Michael stood beside her, just out of view of the peephole. But neither of them heard a thing.
"Well I guess this one is empty," Zaire said after another moment had passed. Just as they had turned to go to the adjacent room, she had noticed something. Following her gaze, Michael saw just what it was. The same car as before had turned off its headlights and was speeding through the darkness.
"Move!" Michael yelled to the others. The SUV drove between the main building and the western one, and Thomas, not having been fast enough in his maneuver, was clipped by the side mirror. He was sent to the ground as the car screeched to a stop.
In a flash, the other five Reapers lit the vehicle up, emptying their clips into the passengers within. Blood sprayed onto the shattered windshield, and the driver's head slammed against the steering wheel. The sound of the car horn permeated throughout the night as everyone regained their composure.
"Shit, he's trying to get away!" John yelled. Lyman had decided to use the distraction to make a break for it, running right towards the woods that they had come from. As if it would do him any good. Samuel took out his pistol and remained still for a second. A trio of shots were fired, the recoil of which had brought the final one right to the target's kneecap.
"That solves that," he said, holstering the pistol once again. While Thomas got himself off of the ground, clutching his aching shoulder in the process, Michael reloaded the weapon. No doubt that a hit like that would leave a nasty bruise - it had taken the mirror completely off of the car. On the other end, Michael heard one of the doorknobs twisting open.
"We've got another," he said, signaling the door to the others. Slowly the door opened, and a black-haired woman in her twenties stepped out, looking for the source of the constant noise. She gasped when she noticed the wreckage and the guns pointed in her direction.
"Don't shoot," she pleaded. "P-please don't shoot!"
"What are you doing here?" Michael asked aloud.
"I w-work here..." In the distance, Samuel and Kevin could be seen bringing Lyman back towards the motels. "What on earth happened? What have you done to the place?"
"Maybe she didn't know," Hawkins said over the comm line. "In any case, we'll be bringing her in too. The local police are already on their way. Let them take her."
"Copy that," Michael replied, before returning his attention to the new captive. "Looks like you'll be coming with us. No doubt they'll wanna know what you've seen here. Take a seat." She did as she was told, likely terrified beyond belief. At this point, with only three rooms left, it would be much easier to just break in and enter to check the last ones. "I'm clearing these last few rooms," he said quietly to the others. He pointed the submachine gun at the doorknob and shot it several times, before ramming into the door. It flung open, and he was greeted to an empty room. "Clear."
It wasn't long before their vehicle had arrived again, looking very similar to the one that they had just shot down. The only difference was the yearly model of the car, which is why they had been confused initially. The car was chosen due to the fact that they were in town and because Camp Gatley was only about twenty minutes away. A multitude of sirens could be heard nearby, signaling the approaching police. When they pulled into the motel, the Reapers shoved their hostage into the vehicle before getting in themselves. Everyone knew that suit; it was one of the most unmistakable signs among the Johto military, albeit the most elite. They were not held back.
As they drove away, John grabbed one of the first aid kits that was always kept in the back before going to work. He patched up Lyman's knee, which still had a steady trickle of blood trailing down, all while he winced in pain. "You… shot me," he said through clenched teeth.
"Yeah," Samuel said, "I did. And what did you expect? You think we're some cops in your homeland? You ran, and we couldn't let that happen."
"I do have to admit," Zaire interjected, "for someone of your size, you can book it. Not faster than a bullet though."
"Stay outta this bitch. And when I walk away from this, I'll make sure they take every one of your heads."
"Oh trust me, you're not going anywhere. We had everything we needed to book you for life. Unovan lawyers won't ever be able to find you. Not where you're going. And that's if they decide on imprisonment," said Thomas. "You know how pimps get punished over here?"
"I have rights. You can't take those from me."
"Watch us. You forfeited your rights when you stepped on our turf, you fat fuck," Michael said. "Maybe if you cooperate, you might get spared from the electric chair. May even get to call your family every once in awhile - that is if they even want to speak to you."
"Don't entertain a conversation with him anymore," Wesley said. "It's immature, and you're wasting your time. Let us do all the talking to him." That was probably for the best. Seeing two of his comrades with their pistols ready to go, he laid back against the seat, closing his eyes.
. . . . .
Once they had arrived at Gatley it was about 3:00 AM, and a crew was already waiting for them when they pulled in. Lyman was taken to the medical bay where, according to international law, his wound would be more properly treated. That was, of course, prior to his questioning, which would likely come with more inflicted wounds. Odds were they'd transport him to a more secretive facility to undergo a process like that, and that would be the last they heard of him. Michael estimated that it would take no more than a few days for him to break.
Colonel Hawkins led them back to a room that had been cleared out for the Reapers to use as their own personal armory. Michael removed the suit just as easily as he had all the other times. First the weapons and gear, then the mask…
"I'm not seeing my Negev in here," Thomas said.
"That's because you won't be needing it for this line of missions," Hawkins replied. "I'm sure it's waiting for your return back at Stryker." Michael finished slipping off the kevlar suit and hung it on its designated spot. It always felt good to get out of that thing. While they went about undressing, Zaire waited outside. Finally, a moment where she was quiet…
Once they had finished putting on some more casual clothes, one question remained. "Where are we staying?" Kevin asked.
"Right outside the base. The duplexes are usually reserved for officers, but we were able to clear a few out for you all. Two beds and two bathrooms apiece. Some of you are sharing."
"Wait, there's no way we can—." Wesley cut Michael off before he could finish.
"I said some of you. Cool it. I know that you've got five others living with you. You're getting a room to yourself. John and Kevin are sharing, and Alex and Samuel are as well. Thomas, you'll get one on your own."
"Wait - how come he gets one to himself when we've both got the same number of pokémon?" Alex asked.
"Because he's just about as big as his golurk. You expect them to share a bed?"
"Alright, alright. Good point," Alex admitted.
"Zaire, as the only female member of the team, you'll get the last duplex to yourself."
"Well that's no fun," she said. "I kinda wanted a roommate."
"I'm sure you'll manage," Hawkins replied. "In the meantime, your cards have been updated to grant you access to the buildings, and each of your pokémon are already in your quarters."
Once they had finished up there, everyone was ready to go to their quarters and get some rest. But as they were headed out the door, he was stopped. "Michael," the Colonel said.
"Yes."
"There's something I want to talk with you about. Meet me at the front entrance at ten in the morning." He was surprised to hear this, especially considering Hawkins' tone. What could he want to discuss? He would just have to wait until morning to find out.
"…Alright."
Fortunately for them, the duplexes were within walking distance. John shone the light on his phone onto the folded piece of paper that had their names and the corresponding building numbers. When they arrived, the Reapers stopped in the middle of the road, standing beside the driveway of one of the specified buildings. They looked pretty nice - the lawns were well kept and everything was pristine. A door on each side led to the mirroring living spaces for each individual building.
"Okay, so Kevin - you and I have fifty-two. Alex and Sam get fifty-three right in the same building. Thomas, you're on fifty-one."
"Am I fifty?" Michael asked, desperately hoping the answer to that question was yes. Please for the love of Arceus, tell me you didn't do this to me Hawkins…
"No, you're fifty-four. Fifty isn't on the list. That leaves you in fifty-five, Zaire." Fucking hell.
"Oh well, it looks like you'll have to put up with me," Zaire said in a teasing manner. What he wouldn't give to trade spots with any of the others right about now. But the cards were set to open their specified doors. By the time he'd be able to request a room change in the morning, everyone would have settled in… Was Arceus punishing him for something?
"I'm not tryin' to be rude," Thomas said, "but I really don't wanna stand here and talk. I need to get some ice on this fucking shoulder."
"Yeah. Watch out for any mirrors on your way. Heard they can be hard to dodge," Kevin said.
"Fuck off," the larger Reaper said, already on his way.
"Well I think I'm gonna go ahead and turn in too," John said. "Goodnight y'all." Michael hurriedly walked over to his place, hoping to get to sleep soon and without having to deal with the new nuisance that had been assigned to their team. How on earth he was going to survive up to a month with her as a "neighbor" of sorts was beyond him. Probably through a lot of avoidance on his part, and maybe with the help of Jack Daniels.
Michael quietly shut the door behind him, as the girls were undoubtedly asleep by now. He found the duplex to his liking at about the same size as their previous quarters, albeit in a completely different configuration. The front entrance had brought him to a hallway, which had three doorways along the right side. The first brought him to the living room, dining room, and kitchen, while the other two were bedrooms. With the doors open, he could see it was dark inside, so he wasn't about to bother any of them. He went into the dining room, where a small closet to the side revealed an all-in-one washer and dryer unit. On top of it was some spare linens, which he grabbed and threw somewhat carelessly onto the couch. Before heading to bed, he went into the bathroom and found sets of new toiletries under the cabinet. After brushing his teeth, he set the alarm on his phone and laid down on the couch, falling asleep quicker than he had in a long time.
. . . . .
Sunlight poured into the living room as he woke to the sound of the microwave going off. Michael groggily opened his eyes and noticed that the time was only 7:44. Why are they up now? He tried to turn onto his side, pulling the blanket over himself again, but just a minute later and a loud thud sounded from the kitchen. Fuck… He kicked the sheets off of himself, realizing that four hours of sleep was all that he was going to get. What did you do? he thought as he walked slowly into the kitchen. Layla was sitting up on the floor in front of the refrigerator, clearly dazed. "What the hell Layla?"
"Sorry," she said. "I fell…"
"What were you trying to do?"
"Get another one out of the fridge," she said, pointing to the object that she had taken out of the microwave. It was an instant breakfast pack. It was then that he realized that Charlotte and Elise were also at the table.
"Why didn't you ask for help?"
"Because Ver and Alaina had to go do some training exercise and you were out cold," the lucario said. Extending his hand, Michael helped her up before retrieving the other two packets out of the freezer. "You could've asked me," he said.
"Mhm, but you came in late. I almost went to sleep at two and you still weren't in." He nodded.
"Yeah. It took awhile, that's for sure."
"How'd it go?" asked Charlotte.
"Went pretty well. It was the same thing every time, but it worked, and we got the guy we were after. Samuel ended up shooting him in the knee, so that was pretty funny."
"Ouch… where is he now?" Charlotte asked.
"Beats me. They're shipping him somewhere where they can torture him for information. My guess is probably Orre."
"What did he do?" Elise asked. "That seems… harsh…"
"He ran a prostitution chain here in Goldenrod. Sometimes it's cause those girls owed him a debt - probably for drugs - and sometimes it's because they were kidnapped and forced. Either way, it's wrong. Not to mention he's with the group that's trying to take over all the regions. We need to know what he knows, and sometimes physical pain is what it takes." The microwave went off, and another one of the packaged meals had finished its cycle. Charlotte had already started to eat hers, and Layla motioned for him to give the next one to Elise.
"Is the country going to be okay?" asked the glaceon.
"Of course. We'll be fine," Michael said as he put the final packet into the microwave. "We always are."
. . . . .
When it had nearly come time for him to meet Hawkins, Michael stepped outside. Still no sign of Alaina or Ver. Out by the side of the road, a group of soldiers were going about their morning exercises, jogging in a double-file line. Directly behind them was a pack of manectrics similarly engaged in the routine. He was about to head over to the meeting place when he noticed two figures trailing behind the others. That's strange, Michael thought, they don't seem like military. One of the two was a man that looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a dark hoodie. The other was an absol, who appeared to be not nearly as winded as he was.
Returning his attention to the current objective, Michael followed the road at a leisurely pace. The front gate was about one kilometer from his current location, so ten minutes would be more than enough. Nice day out, he thought. Though it was a tad bit on the cool side. He did find it strange that of all the places to meet, Wesley would pick this one. But then again, he didn't know the base's layout, so something easy to get to was probably the best option. As he neared the designated meeting area, he noticed something odd. The man and his absol from before were already there, speaking with Colonel Hawkins. The fuck? Whatever they were saying, he couldn't hear it, and by the time he'd gotten close enough to where he could, the man in question had already resumed his morning jog. Wesley straightened his black beret before noticing Michael approaching.
"What was that about?" Michael asked.
"Do you know why I asked you to speak with me?" Hawkins asked. A question like that always made someone nervous.
"Not really. Did I fuck something up this past mission?"
"In a way, yes. You never mentioned to me that you have PTSD."
"I don't," he said in an annoyed tone. He was going to let Alex have it when he got back. "That's a bunch of bullshit."
"Well I can't take that risk. Reapers are prime candidates for developing it, and it's a good way to get people killed - sending out someone like that on missions."
"What are you saying?" Michael asked. "You mean to tell me that you asked me to come here and help bring down a new criminal organization - and right when we're getting ready to go to the League - only to tell me that you're not going to deploy me anymore?!" He was beyond livid, and it was too late to go back to the way things were headed beforehand.
"Hold off," Wesley said, "I never said I didn't intend to deploy you over the course of this tour. But until I know for sure whether or not you have a mental disorder, I am prohibited by law to assign you."
"Shit," Michael muttered. "How long will it take?"
"He said something about it taking at least six weeks, maybe six months."
"Fucking hell - and what do you mean by 'he?'" Michael asked.
"The therapist that you're now required to see."
"I'm going to kill him. Alex shouldn't have opened his damn mouth when he doesn't know shit! There's absolutely nothing wrong with me!"
"Well if that's the case, then you'll be back out there in no time. But right now I need you to cooperate and go through with this. Is that understood?" He wasn't asking a question; he was making a demand. Michael knew that there was no way that he could get out of this. His only response was a slight, silent nod, all while he gritted his teeth. "Good. I'm sorry that it's come to this, but I want you to understand that all of us want the best for you. No one meant any harm by bringing this to my attention." I'll show him harm.
Once Hawkins had gone his own way, Michael turned right back around. He had only one destination in mind as he paced there quickly. Kevin was out on his usual morning run and noticed him.
"Hey," he said in his usual carefree tone, "you look pretty pissed. What's up?" He didn't say a word, but just kept walking. Honestly, the words had barely registered to them at this point. "Huh, alright then."
The second he approached the door, he knocked on it loudly. The number fifty-three glared back at him as he stood there, waiting for someone to answer. Eventually someone did. Samuel stood there in just a pair of gym shorts, curious as to why his comrade had furiously approached them. "Something up?" he asked. Michael walked straight in, passing him without a second thought and quickly scanning over the house. He saw exactly who he was looking for in the living room, with the luxray asleep beside him. Alex must have known, too, as he stood up the moment Michael walked in. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of them and shoved Alex back down, causing his head to contact the wall.
"You got me fucking grounded!" Michael yelled to his dazed comrade.
"What are you talking about?" Alex said, standing up once again and squaring off against him.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about! He just assigned me to a fucking therapist because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut!" He swung for his friend once again, though this time Alex backed up.
"Stop it!" Lillian yelled, having woken up to such a sight.
"He fucking betrayed me!" Michael yelled back, before directing his rage once again towards Alex. "After all the shit we've been through, you go and pull a stunt like that?!"
"Look at you!" Alex finally screamed back. "You're not all there! You haven't been in a long time! I don't give a shit if you're mad or not! I'm not gonna sit around and watch you get yourself killed!" Michael rushed forward again, only to find his whole body stiffen up as a burning sensation crawled through every fiber of his being. He fell to the ground and cramped up as the electricity ran its course throughout him.
"You… took one of the last things I cared about," Michael spat. His breathing was frantic and vengeful.
"If you don't get help, you'll lose the last five things you care about," Alex said, rubbing the back of his head. Samuel had come into the room and put himself between the two of them in an effort to break everything up.
Michael picked himself up off the ground, seeing Lillian flinch in apprehension. But the static was still running along her fur; she would shock him again if he stepped out of line. He turned away, heading for the door. The Reaper had no more words, other than Alex had been a pretty shit friend to make a move like that.
Everything about this whole situation sucked. Hell, if it was found that he was mentally unfit, he might even legally have to turn in his firearms, and it would be a cold day in hell before that happened. Not to mention the fact that he was stuck here on base for Arceus knows how long. And all of this would either be confirmed or dismissed based upon the words of one individual. As much of bullshit as it was, one particular stranger was going to be in control of a significant part of the Reaper's future. Oh I'll make sure, he thought. I'll make sure whoever this fucker is, he says exactly what I want.
