Captain: What is this? Is this real? Am I actually alive? Holy crap I am! And with an update! Sorry for the long abandonment guys, life got a little busy and I never quite had the motivation to sit at the computer for leisure writing. Science majors will do that to you. But hey, only nine more months and I'll have my Bachelors in Wildlife Ecology, woo woo! And just in case ya'll are concerned (rightfully so), this will not be a one and done, I can guarantee it, as I have the next few chapters well under way. I hope to get a little stockpile built of updates that just need a final editing so that ya'll can continue to get new chapters even when the semester gets crazy (which it will, four lab classes and senior thesis, eek). This fic is kind of my baby so I really want to do right by it and all of you faithful readers and not abandon it again. I hope to see it done and done to my satisfaction!
I won't bore ya'll with a long author's note about what I've been up to the last year and a half *shameful face*. I will just say a huge thank you to each and every one of you who decide to come back and give this story another chance. To those just discovering it, I welcome you. I hope you enjoy!
"You son of a b—." A filthy rag shoved into her mouth effectively cut off Emma's insult as she struggled against the bonds that rather effectively kept her immobile.
"Do you ever cease creating noise?" Altair snarked, his expression of distaste once again present as he secured the gag before stepping away from her. He didn't loiter after that, rather he scurried up the wall and out of sight, leaving her alone and securely tied in place.
She still wasn't exactly sure how the hell it had gone so wrong so quickly. One moment she was attempting to sabotage the assassin's weapons in the predawn light and the next he was there, very much awake, alert, and thoroughly handing her her ass. There was hardly time to make it much of a fight before he'd somehow gotten the ropes around her and it was over.
Now she was stuck in the empty Bureau with nothing but her seething temper for company.
Damn him. Damn this place and damn those bastards responsible for sending her here!
Struggling proved fruitless against the knots and the asshat had taken her knife, the only escape would be whenever Malik wandered back.
However long that would be.
She felt the dam cracking, struggled to patch it before it could leak. She'd held it together this long, kept up a strong front. She couldn't let it fail now, couldn't allow herself to indulge the weakness. Whatever it took, whatever distraction it required, she couldn't break.
Seconds ticked by slowly, every miniscule noise grating against her defenses.
Hanging her head, she let out a shuddering sigh through her nose, squeezing her eyes shut against the pressure building behind them. Her nerves were as frayed as the rope was making her wrists, the strain of the stress from the last month driving her to wit's end. Not even attempting to bring in some familiarity by doing her job had worked. She just wanted to go home. She missed her father training her to be a better cop, she missed Matt putting her into headlocks and threatening his military buddies to stay away from her; she missed Eliot's flirting and her best friend smacking her for not taking care of herself. Any one of them would have been able to handle this better. Her partner would have slipped away in the dead of night, her brother was unmatched in hand-to-hand combat, and Cat could sweet talk her way out of anything. But Emma was stuck in the middle, too brash and hot-headed for one and not strong enough for the others.
"I wondered at the quiet." Malik mused as he gave her a once-over. Emma blinked, having completely missed his drop through the roof. There was a slight smirk on his face as he approached. Emma attempted to answer his comment with a glare, but all she managed was a look with no heat behind it. His steps hesitated and he cocked his head before kneeling in front of her, reaching for the gag. "I gather you attempted to stop Altair."
The gag was removed, Emma worked the stiffness from her jaw as Malik prepared himself for the oncoming tirade. It didn't come. Not even when he worked the knot binding her wrists loose. She sucked in a breath, ready to bring one forth. The air fluttered out as she let her head thunk against the wall, muttering only, "Tried, failed."
She didn't have it in her for a rant, she barely had it in her to move. Defeat etched itself into every muscle, every nerve, sapped the energy from her bones. Malik stared at her, unmoving with what looked somewhat like concern mixed with anger spreading across his face. "What did he do?"
Emma blinked slowly at him, "What?"
"What did Altair do to you?" He clarified, making a point to look her over again, "I have never seen you so…tame." Fury he expected, or a stubborn refusal to listen or give up whatever mission she'd assigned herself. Not this. This was unsettling.
Emma gave him a one-shouldered shrug, still unmoving from her place on the floor despite freeing her ankles of the ropes. "He didn't do anything."
She wanted to blame him, to curse and scream and rant against the assassin, but there was little point. There was nothing it would accomplish, it wouldn't help her get home.
"Except truss you up." Malik added dryly. Emma's repeated half-shrug was the automatic response.
Heaving a sigh of his own, the one-armed Dai stood, taking the woman's hand in his own and pulling her to her feet. She didn't resist when he led her into the other room and placed her before the dead fire. It was silent as he moved about, shuffling some things aside.
"Emma." She blinked, eyes finally meeting his and wondering when he'd pulled up the other chair.
The woman had never felt so lost. "I want to go home."
Her voice cracked and she looked away, staring into the grey ash of dead coals. Weakness was never something that was easy to show. She abhorred it. The sarcasm and anger were her armor against it, and it'd been years since it failed her. It was shattered now, no pieces left large enough to hide behind. She felt exposed and raw, a feeling that failed to lessen when she wrapped her arms around herself.
A callused hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look back at the man, "If there was a way, I would take you there."
She believed him. The evidence was stacked against her denial, and it was but a fool's hope that she clung to now that this was all still some elaborate play, that this wasn't the past. Whatever it was, she was stuck here, and Malik couldn't help her get back.
"I don't know what I'm doing here." Her eyes burned, her vision blurring. She felt like a damn child mixed up in something too big for her. Malik stayed quiet, and it was all the prompting she needed for the dam to burst completely. "I don't belong here; I can't speak the language, I don't have a damn clue what's going on out there and I can't even do my damn job! I can't stop a murder I know is going to happen and….and I miss my family, my world."
Her voice ended in a whisper as she rubbed her eyes, struggling to keep the frustrated tears at bay. Malik sighed, casting a long look across the room before he faced her again, his expression one of understanding. "It is much different here, than what you knew. Where you are from guards protect, here they are little more than hired swords. They protect only their master's interests, good or ill. Right and wrong have little meaning to them. Justice and protection for the people come at the end of a blade." He paused, letting it sink in for a moment before he went on, "The man Altair is after today is a slaver; he abducts people from the streets, from their homes, and sells them to the highest bidder. He has paid off the guards to help him and the regent looks the other way. Altair's work will put an end to this suffering, it is the only way."
Emma chewed her lip as she digested the information. It was obvious things were screwed up here, that the usual methods of dealing with those types of people wouldn't work. It didn't sit right to just roll over and accept that this was the only way, but if this was somehow really the past, then that was how things had to go. There was nothing she could do to change them, not when her methods wouldn't be invented for another few hundred years. One person could change a lot, but she couldn't take on reforming the entire world's justice system, not when so much was run by the corrupt and nothing could hold them accountable. Nothing but a blade in the crowd.
She rubbed her face, feeling more exhausted than she had since arriving in this place, "I don't belong here."
Malik regarded her for a moment, "You may not be from here, but I do not doubt there is a roll for you to play. You would not have been brought here for no reason."
The cop snorted, "I'm here because I broke into a building with people doing some shady shit. They caught me and needed a guinea pig for their newest experiment."
She'd never divulged the details of her coming to the city, and Malik noted the new information with a frown. "Guinea pig?"
"Test dummy, chances of survival are usually pretty slim. I probably wasn't even meant to live through it." She could still feel the heat of the machine against her skin, see the flashing landscapes. It made her wonder if the test had been a success or not. Did they want her to end up here? Or had she been meant to land in some other time? The thought of using history as a playground made her head spin. There had to be some potentially world-ending consequences to that.
Malik gave her a sideways grin, an attempt to break the darkening mood, "You snuck into a guarded building?"
Emma let out a soft laugh. Yeah, in hindsight her 'plan' had been pretty dumb. "I was given intel that they were involved with some people who'd gone missing."
She paused, noting the almost ironic parallels with a dry chuckle, "Except I never did find those people or who was in charge. Even if I did find the bastard, he's got the money to have gotten away with it."
At least it would have been a slow-burn case that would have tarnished his name beyond employability; but without bodies, Abstergo would have lawyered up, cut the man, and escaped clean.
"An assassin could have put an end to that." Malik mused.
"Murder doesn't fly like that, we investigate every one with equal importance. And we have a justice system that cares about the people. There are entire teams dedicated to monitoring the rich and powerful." It wasn't perfect, but neither was theirs.
"You feel the need to continue your work here, I understand." Malik laid his hand on her shoulder. His look held more knowing than just sympathy, and Emma was suddenly painfully aware that he'd been facing the same problem. The details differed, but the end result was the same. "You cannot enjoy the freedoms you are used to, there is no place for your work in this world. Instead of forcing yourself to follow that same purpose, perhaps you should instead find a new one."
Emma didn't know how to respond. He was right, of course, but… "Being a cop is all I've ever known. I knew I was going to be one when I was five."
It was in her blood, there'd never been a question. "Then it is time to find something else to define you, something you have chosen for yourself."
What else was there? For twenty years she was sure of her career, she'd been living it for the last five. How could she move on from that? And in a place where her options were so limited no less.
A draft shifted dark cloth. Her eyes caught the empty sleeve of Malik's robe, held for a moment, before ducking away in shame. He was only speaking to her of advice he'd had to come to terms with himself. Like her, his entire life and all his plans had been ripped away in one brutal act. He was left with only the option to reshape himself with a much more limited range of options. At least she still had all of her limbs intact, and the worse wound had been delivered to her pride. She should count herself lucky, but there was a selfish part of her that reminded her a one-armed man still had more opportunities than a woman in this place.
It was ass-backwards here and she hated it. She already had to prove she could do her job on the streets, but here she'd have to prove she could do more than just pop out kids. It made her grateful Malik seemed to see that; that whatever notions he had about a woman's abilities were either ahead of his time or he just kept quiet about them.
A bell tolled in the distance, interrupting the quiet and whatever it was Malik had been about to say. His face pitched into a frown and he muttered several phrases under his breath that Emma had little doubt was what passed for swearing in Arabic. In the month she'd been there, the bell had never rang more than once. Now it rang repeatedly and she looked to her host, "Malik?"
He stood, making his way to the other room, where the sound rang louder through the open roof. Emma followed him, "What does it mean?"
"It means that Altair has most likely succeeded in his task, but in a manner that attracted attention. They will be hunting him, and they will use the excuse to harass anyone they please." He grabbed a thick rope hooked along the wall and pulled. A hatch slammed over the opening, muting the sound of the bell. "Best to stay inside and out of sight for a few days."
"A few days?!" If that didn't spell potential cabin fever she didn't know what did, "I thought death was something they looked over here?" She'd seen that for herself more than she cared to.
Malik shot her a dry look, "Normally they do, but Talal's death will result in fewer coin for the guards, and that is something they take personally."
Emma blinked, realizing that the city guard was less like a corrupted justice system and more like the enforcers of a mob. It meant even with the tumor gone, the cancer was still there; a new leader would no doubt pop up, and the cycle would continue. Looking at Malik, she realized that was the point of his being here; to keep the new leaders in check, and remove them when the need arose. She wondered if they knew it would never end. Despite very different methods, their end goal was the same. It wasn't the easiest pill to swallow, but she'd choke it down anyway.
"I won't apologize to him." She jerked her head toward the hatch, "But…I suppose I'll try not to interfere, so long as the civilians are left alone."
"Stay your blade from the flesh of innocents. It is one of the rules of our Creed." He arched a brow, "Altair deserves no apology, his arrogance is what allowed you to interfere, and he could stand a few more blows to his pride."
The animosity was thick in his voice, suggesting he wouldn't mind the assassin taking a few hits to something other than his ego as well. Emma cocked her head, curiosity finally winning out over courtesy. "What did he do?" She gestured towards the empty sleeve, "Is he responsible for that?"
Malik looked away, sporting a fierce scowl as he moved back towards his bookshelves and slipping behind the counter. "This was the least of his crimes."
Damn, what the hell else did the bastard do? She wanted to know, but the man offered no more, and the pain in his eyes kept her from pushing. So she was quiet as she followed him, chewing her bottom lip.
"Tell me of your life before all of this." She shifted, knowing it was an intentional turn of the conversation away from him.
"What do you want to know?" Once he'd believed her story of being from the future, he hadn't asked much and she hadn't offered.
Malik gave her a steady look, "You have spoken little of your family and friends. I cannot take you home; speaking of it may help."
Emma glanced away, chewing her bottom lip in thought as she leaned against the counter. She gave in with a loose shrug, perhaps he was right. Then again, speaking of them out loud would make it real, that there was possibly no way home. "Mom left before I was old enough to know her, so it was just Dad to raise my brother and I. He was a cop like my grandfather, taught me everything I know and was there for me when no one else was. He pushed back his retirement until after I graduated the Academy. 'There's been a Harp wearing the badge since 1838', he walked the beat an extra two years to keep from breaking that."
It was a fact David had always been extremely proud of; that their family had been in law enforcement since its start in Boston. Where their line went beyond that no one really knew for sure.
Ever since her brother had chosen to take a different path, she'd known it had fallen to her to continue the tradition. She couldn't get stuck here forever and be the reason the line broke.
Before she could brood on that train of thought there was a bang against the shuttered entrance, a muffled swear followed by a silence only interrupted by the continuing bell. Malik scowled in the direction of the noise and Emma took a guess that it had been Altair attempting to return, only to find the door shut. There was no telling where he'd go until Malik decided to open the hatch again, and frankly, she didn't care.
The interruption had broken her confidence to keep talking though, so she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and worried it instead.
The importance of the people she spent her life around had always been in her mind, but stuck here without them made it all the more painfully clear. She was adrift at sea, and none of her stars were there to guide her way.
Malik placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a light squeeze. There was nothing he could say, no promise he could make to make things better. He was simply there, and the sadness in his eyes spoke of an understanding for her pain.
The stars may be hidden, but perhaps there was a lighthouse in the storm after all.
A good while later, after the sun had disappeared and darkness had reclaimed the city, a pigeon flew out the Bureau. Malik watched it go with a sour gut. It was right, of course it was, there was no questioning that, and yet…a tug at his mind. He shook it off as he returned to his bed. The bird was gone, there would be no turning back.
XxXxXxxx
Eliot raised his fist to knock on the plain white door before him, hesitated, then let his knuckles rap lightly. He held his breath, hoping the door wouldn't open, yet at the same time wishing it would. The keys in his hand weighed heavier than they had a right to.
It would have been simple enough to allow a tow truck to return Emma's car to her father now that it had been released from evidence, or arrange for him to pick it up himself, but the man was owed more than that. Eliot knew he had a debt he could never repay. Emma was his partner, he'd sworn to look out for her as she had for him, to always have her back. But the one time she needed him most, he wasn't there. It was a guilt that sank heavily in his gut.
The door swung open, revealing an older man who looked as though he'd aged another ten years in the week since Eliot saw him last. A brief spark of hope flashed in his blue eyes before fading as he recognized the officer. "Anything?"
Eliot didn't have to answer, David Harp may have been retired, but his skills as an investigator hadn't dulled a bit, he could read his expression as easily as the morning paper. The younger man held out the keys instead, lightly clearing his throat of the knot threatening to form. "They released her from evidence, I figured it was the least I could do."
David's eyes traveled past him to land on the Camaro he'd passed down to his daughter. Eliot saw his lip tremble and pretended not to notice the way the other man's hand lightly shook as he accepted the keys. His voice was gruffer than usual when he nodded inside, "Come in out of the heat then."
It was a cloudy day and he was on duty still, he shouldn't; the higher ups were already getting annoyed with his neglect of other duties. He followed the veteran officer into the familiar home.
"Anything on your end?" It was an automatic question that came out before Eliot could think to stop it. He'd been to this house enough to know that if David wanted him to know something, he'd know it. He should say something else, anything else; he couldn't think of anything. It only echoed through his head that he failed the trust David had put in him to protect his little girl.
"My contacts still have ears out, but there's been no mention of her." His back was to the younger cop as he set the keys on the counter, a weariness to his shoulders that spoke of sleepless nights and a weight too great for one person to bare.
"She's still out there." It was as much an offer of comfort to her father as it was to himself. Hope was a precious thing to find and cling to, and every day it seemed to slip a little further from reach.
She had to be out there, no way Emma Harp would ever go down quietly. If there was no sign of her, it was because she was still kicking….somewhere.
"I know she's alive." David snapped, abruptly turning back around. "You think a father wouldn't know if his…" His voice cracked and he looked away, growling in a lower tone, "She's alive, we just have to find her."
Eliot knew that a parent's hope was a never-ending thing, no matter how long the case went cold. He just prayed his own would hold out so long. "You're sure she didn't mention anything before?"
David dropped into his chair, shoulders slumping as he wearily rubbed his face with his hands. "She didn't come to me for anything." Sometimes he couldn't help but wish she'd gotten a little more of her mother in her and a little less of his own stubborn nature. "Are you sure she left Abstergo?"
It was a broken record question, but Eliot could see there was something that nagged the veteran. "They have her on video."
"Video can be doctored."
"It's Abstergo David, why would an entertainment company take a cop?" They were putting out a new game this year, but Emma wouldn't have cared if there was 'top secret' information lying around about it, and it was hardly proper motive.
"Why would Emma be there in uniform on her night off and not tell you about it?" David challenged.
Eliot couldn't answer that. For a woman who was so vocal about her opinions, she'd been tight-lipped about that particular matter. He hated it. "I wish I knew."
"She may be a hot-head but she would have left a clue somewhere, we just have to find it." Therein lay the problem, Eliot had gone through her desk, her apartment, hell even her car, but there was nothing.
"I've gone through everything, if she left something I can't find it." It wasn't an easy thing to admit, but he respected David too much to try bullshitting him.
"Did you check the Camaro?" A new voice asked, a man not much older than Eliot stepping into the room, a spitting image of what David probably looked like twenty years ago.
The cop tipped his head in greeting, "Every nook and cranny." It had been as fruitless as every other search. "How are you doing, Matt?"
Emma's older brother held himself like a Marine, all confidence and power. Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't be able to tell his right leg ended at the knee. His face, however, was just as ragged and worn as his father's, and sporting a dark beard he normally kept trimmed back.
"Keeping busy." His voice was rough, tired. He sank into the chair next to the cop, absently rubbing his knee where the prosthetic was strapped. "I've got my own contacts digging around."
It was almost a relief having so many eyes and ears out there, it was certainly more ground than the department could ever hope to cover. However, Eliot wasn't so certain either of the Harp men would bring leads to him before going after it themselves in whatever manner they saw fit. He knew he didn't have it in him to put them in cuffs. How could he? He wasn't deluded enough to believe he'd be able to stick to the books on this one either.
"Just promise you'll both keep me updated."
"You know we will." David answered for them. It was a hollow promise and all of them knew it. At most he could hope for a fair warning before things went to hell.
With a nod, Eliot stood, he didn't offer a false smile or a promise he might not be able to keep, but repeated an oath he'd made to them several times already, "I'll do whatever it takes."
David stood with him and walked him to the door, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "We'll bring her home."
When the door shut behind him, Eliot let out a long sigh and let his head fall back, staring blankly up at the clouds. "What the hell did you get into?"
Tires squealed and a horn blared; his eyes slid down the street where a black SUV had cut off a tow truck as it swung into the street. The truck driver was swearing loudly out his window, shaking a fist as his load bounced against the tow rack. Obviously bound for the scrap yard, the car looked like it'd been driven through a house.
Or the steel supports and glass walls of Abstergo. The cop frowned as he tracked the trashed vehicle until it disappeared around the corner. He'd glanced briefly at the finished report of the accident; it had been some old clunker picked up from a junk yard, bought with cash and not street-legal; most likely it had been some teenager's rebuild project. There had been no driver, so the car had probably been parked on the side of the street up the hill when the brakes failed.
That was the story anyway.
"Tell me you didn't." He muttered to himself, climbing into the cruiser another officer had dropped off for him and slipping into traffic.
She had.
It took him trying four scrap yards, the right words and flashing her photo around before the owner of Singer's Salvage gave him the affirmative. Rubbing his beard, the older man gave his uniform another glance. "Ya know, ya ain't the first to come around askin' about that load of junk."
Eliot felt a ball of dread sink into his gut, "Who else was here?"
The owner gave a partial shrug, "Never offered a name, just claimed it was involved in an accident."
Abstergo. The cop worked his jaw as a spark of fury flared to life. Stiffly, he gave a nod of thanks before turning to leave. That stupid, reckless, woman. What the hell was she thinking sending a car into a bloody building?! And not one owned by just any company, oh no, she had to target the one with the best lawyers sitting on retainer.
"Damn you, Harp." He growled to himself. What could she possibly have been looking for?
The fact Abstergo made no mention of knowing where the car came from, and that they were making no outward sign of wanting to hold anyone responsible for the damage, cast them in a seriously suspicious light. A gaming company would have no trouble doctoring up some video footage and it appeared they had motive after all.
Peeling out of the salvage yard, Eliot headed towards the precinct, half a plan beginning to take shape. He was going to find his partner, even if it meant a little secret investigating himself.
Captain: Sooooo yeah, that all happened :D. Yay for character development! Haha so yeah, Emma isn't always foul-tongued and short tempered, just extra so when under extreme stress, which, lets face it, we'd be a little freaked if we ended up in what is essentially a different world. Malik, at least gets to see the other side! And hey, we know what Eliot's been up to now! Again, I apologize for such a freakishly long break. Hope ya'll are willing to drop a review and let me know if I screwed up anywhere after being away for so long! Until next time!
