A/N: Hey everyone, Joey245 here! Hope you all are doing alright in this weird world we're living in right now. Stay safe, stay sane, and don't forget to wash your hands! Oh, and enjoy this new chapter, which only took a month to write this time! Progress!
"Doctor Weir?"
Alan glanced up from his report to see a young man almost timidly approaching his desk. Ruffled, unruly black hair, hazel eyes...yes, he recognized him as the Engineering Agent that had rescued him from Rosemont no more than forty-eight hours ago. The doctor smirked, set the report aside, and picked up his teacup, letting the aroma wash over his tired face for a moment.
"Ah, Agent Shen. What can I help you with?"
Shen shuffled a bit. "I was actually about to ask you the same thing. I know we didn't recover all that much salvage from the Rosemont ops, but I was wondering if I could maybe, I dunno...help with whatever Faulke's got you working on?"
Weir chuckled softly, taking a sip of his tea. "Well...what Myron's got me working on is more than just fixing up guns and making sure the Skyrangers stay in peak condition. My research and development is a bit more...elaborate, and I can't simply allow just anyone access. So...I'd need to get to know you a bit better. But first..."
He produced a teapot from under his desk, as well as an additional teacup with golden filigrees lining the handle and cup. In one swift motion, he poured a sweet-smelling fluid into the new cup, and slid it across to Shen.
The young Engineer looked down at the cup of tea that almost magically appeared in front of him, hesitated for a moment, then picked it up and sipped it. After sampling it carefully, his eyes brightened.
"...oh, wow...that's better than the base coffee, that's for sure. What kind is it?"
"Jasmine," said Weir with a smile, his glasses seemingly shimmering in the low light, "It's my favorite, after all, and I've always found a nice cup of tea to be a treat in and of itself. Now then...Mister Shen, tell me about yourself."
Shen shifted in his seat a little bit. "Well...there's really not much to say. When I was really little my parents fled China in the wake of that tide of Communism, coming to America to try to make a better life. World War II wasn't exactly kind to us, especially whenever the Japanese were involved...it left everyone impoverished and scared. Not a good place to raise a child, my mom always used to say. But that was all before my time. Me, I practically grew up with a wrench in my hands, always taking apart stuff and trying to find out how it fit back together. It was...nice, but it wasn't enough to just know how to fix a car or change an electrical socket, you know? I wanted to go to college to become an engineer, but...well, that wasn't really financially possible."
Weir nodded, sipping his tea. "So you joined the Army."
The young man nodded, though this time he had pride in his eyes. "Figured it was the best way to get out there and see what the rest of the world had to offer. I wasn't the best shot in my unit, but there was no one else who knew their way around gears and camshafts better than me."
"I see. So...what do you fight for then?"
Shen blinked. "Huh?"
"You were a soldier before you were an agent, and from what you've told me, you were a builder before you were either of those things. But now you're all three, and everyone needs a reason for fighting a war as...difficult as this one. So I ask you...why are you serving as an agent, when someone as skilled as you could just as easily remain here in the base working on new designs?"
"Huh." Shen had a puzzled expression on his face. "I...hadn't really thought about that."
"Mm." Weir set his teacup down and looked at Shen firmly, but meaningfully. "Then now might be an excellent time to find one. Here, in safety, instead of out there."
"Right…" mused Shen, gazing at the floor thoughtfully. Weir considered speaking to fill the silence that settled between them, but he thought the better of it. He could see the gears turning in the young man's eyes, as he forced himself to question what he was doing - and more importantly, why.
His patience paid off, as the next time Shen spoke, his words held a spark of wisdom that wasn't there before.
"I think...no, I know...I'm fighting for a better world."
Weir raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"A lot of my friends growing up, my family…" said Shen, fingertips curling around the teacup, "...they went through things no one should ever have to suffer. Had things done to them that no human ever has the right to do to another person. It's the way the world was before my time...but that doesn't mean it has to stay that way, right? We can do better. Be better. Make a world that's worth protecting, one that doesn't force people to live in fear or despair...and these Outsiders just might be the best way to make that happen."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, not the Outsiders specifically, but their tech and their designs," added Shen hastily. "Just a few pounds of Elerium can generate more power than Hoover Dam can put out in a year. And whatever they're building their spaceships and guns out of, it's as light as aluminum but as strong as steel. If we can use their tech to solve the problems we're facing...then maybe we can avoid needless wars entirely, or reduce poverty, or start a scientific revolution. Make a better world than the one we have."
And there it was. The dream of literally building a better world. Weir smiled, as if he was looking at his own reflection.
"In that case...I think we'll be spending a lot of time together, Mister Shen."
Shen's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Because that is what I am fighting for as well," said Weir, "even if I'm not out there on the frontlines like the rest of you. So…"
Weir stood up and extended his hand. Shen did so as well, shaking the offered hand firmly.
"Welcome to the Avenger Project, young man."
"Chef's surprise again? Come on, Leo."
"Oh jeez, sorry princess! Filet mignon and caviar coming right up! Lemme just dip into my other crate of rations!"
"Ooh, are you gonna put on that apron again? The one with the little hearts on it?"
"Keep talking like that and you might find some drywall in your next meal, Percy."
"Hey, at least that'd add some texture!"
Summer shook her head and let out a soft chuckle at the playful shouting across the mess hall, smiling bemusedly as she took another bite out of her big plate of...something. Despite reading up on the history of United States Army rations in Penny's books, she still wasn't entirely sure what she was eating. Maybe it was better not to know. Perhaps in this case, ignorance was bliss.
Besides, it can't be as bad as that time Qrow and Raven tried to make a traditional Mistrali curry for the Vale City Culture Festival, thought Summer with a reminiscent grin. Gods...that thing smelled like death and tasted even worse. Poor Ozpin. He had to shut down the entire event after some of the guests mistook that towering pile of rice and meat for a creature of Grimm…
The thought amused her...for a moment. Then that familiar sadness and longing crept along the edges of her heart, threatening to taint a fond memory and turn it into another bittersweet experience. Another thing she had lost. Another reason she should resign herself to her fate, another reason she should give up going back home to -
"Heeeeeeey. What's a pretty lady like you doin' sitting here all by your lonesome?"
The sight (and smell) of an inebriated agent brought Summer back to reality, and she noticed with some annoyance that the World Almanac had been knocked off of the seat across from her, supplanted by the young blonde's unsteady foot as he tried to line up his elbow with his knee, then his hand with his chin. Just next to him, another agent stood, this one thankfully sober, though perhaps that was a curse rather than a blessing - his face was displaying all the second-hand embarrassment of his drunk friend's antics.
"Jesus, Jack, I told you. No pick-up lines. Just go up to her and say 'hi.'"
"That wasn't a pickup line! A pickup line woulda been 'heeey, I can see why they call you Summer, cause damn are you hot!' I didn't say that…"
"Except you literally did. Just now."
With a shrug, the flirty man turned from his friend and looked back at Summer (or maybe he was looking at the blurry afterimage only he could see?) with a grin. "So...this seat taken?"
It was almost a tempting offer. Almost. The man - Jack, she supposed his name was - was certainly handsome, and radiated confidence even if half of it was from being too drunk to care what others thought. His blonde hair, his blue eyes, his agility and limber form...it was checking all the things Summer usually liked in a man.
Unfortunately for Jack, his romantic exploits would have to wait another day.
"It is taken, unfortunately," she finally responded, "I'm waiting for a friend." She glanced across the mess hall meaningfully, watching Penny try to cross the floor and dodge the people walking around while balancing a plate of food almost as big as her head.
Jack didn't seem too phased by this new information. "Aw, come oooon, flower girl. I can tend your garden real well…"
His wingman, thankfully, had more sense than the inebriated agent. "Jack, come on, she's not interested. Let's get you cleaned up."
Summer smiled sadly. "I'm really flattered, though. Thank you."
Jack grinned as his friend pulled him away by the elbow. "Just remember, flower girl - once you go Jack, you never go back!"
"Oh my god Jack shut up you're literally making it worse."
Penny set down her plate on the table across from Summer, then retrieved the fallen copy of the World Almanac. "I am so sorry about that," she muttered, casting a glance at the blonde man from beneath her glasses. "I would have gotten here sooner, but I had to make sure that the food was the right consistency and it wasn't too -"
"It's fine, Penny," said Summer with a chuckle. "I don't mind it too much. Besides, I can't really blame him. A hundred men stuck underground with no way to contact their wives and girlfriends? I'm surprised it took this long for someone to make a pass at me."
The timid communications operator bit her lower lip, blushed a bit, then started digging into her food as she began reading. A few moments of quiet chewing and page turning ensued, and Summer was content to let the silence settle for a moment as she tried to find the words she wanted - no, needed - to say.
"I...I don't think I ever thanked you."
Penny looked up from her book. "Hm?"
"I was talking with DaSilva earlier today," said Summer, silver staring into hazel, "and he said that the only reason the distress signal got picked up was because you never stopped looking for one. We probably still would have been out there in enemy territory if it wasn't for you."
The young woman blushed, readjusting her glasses as if she was trying to hide her eyes. "Oh, it...it was nothing...really, it was just what DaSilva thought was a malfunctioning radio that led us to you…"
"True, but you were still clever enough to figure it out. So I wanted to thank you personally for that...in addition to the million other things you've done to make me feel welcome."
Summer put her hand forward and laid it - gently - on top of Penny's, squeezing affectionately. Heat seemed to radiate from the young woman, and the blush deepened until her entire face was a dark crimson.
"...of...of course...y-you're welcome…I'm just...glad I could help my friend." Penny sighed, a sad frown overtaking her smile. "I...don't really have many of those anymore…"
The Huntress, whose own friends were on another planet that was possibly thousands of light-years away, could understand the feeling all too well.
But the pain wasn't as bad when she was with people like Penny.
"Ah, Herr Carter, thank you for coming here on such short notice."
Doctor Heinrich Dresner watched William Carter come into his labs with his familiar resting scowl, looking around at the dozen or so experiments the German scientist was running all at once. He tipped his hat towards the doctor, then stared at him. "What do you need?"
Straight to business, as usual. Dresner liked that. Best to show him the same courtesy.
"After a number of trials, I believe I have discovered the nature of your 'healing abilities,'" explained the Doctor as he went around adjusting various instruments. "The artifact you are bonded with is continually producing protein chains that seek out damaged tissue cells and 'glue' them back together. What's more, these protein chains appear to be in some form of dormant state until activated by the presence of cellular damage, and can be transferred through both physical contact and by coming into contact with your bodily fluids."
Carter nodded, though Dresner could tell most of his words went over his head (or hat, rather). "Okay. Which means…"
"Which means that, if we had a large enough sample of fluid from you, we could possibly create some kind of healing stimulant that could be used in your absence to treat wounded soldiers in the field. It would not be as effective, as we would need to conserve the samples you provide us...but it could save lives, Herr Carter."
The gray-hatted agent furrowed his brow, as he took in what the Doctor needed from him. Eventually, he nodded. "Okay. So what do you need from me? Do I gotta pee in a cup, or give a blood sample, or - "
"Absolutely not," said Dresner with a tight frown. Why was that always what came to mind when he said "bodily fluids" were required? "Your blood is better served staying in your body, and urinary samples largely contain waste products. No, I have something much simpler in mind…"
The doctor swiped the thermos from his desk, giving it a small shake as he handed it to Carter. "Take this and stand in front of that tank. Then drink all of the solution. I recommend pinching your nose if you don't like the taste...it makes the coffee taste like ambrosia."
Carter scowled, then did as he was instructed, draining the entire thermos in one long gulp. After it was emptied, he set it down, smacking his lips uncertainly.
"Well?"
"Tastes like watered-down whiskey and cough syrup," reported the agent. "Now what?"
"Lean over the tank," instructed Dresner. "I'll pull the curtain in just a moment."
"Curtain? What do you - mmrk!"
Dresner pulled the thin plastic sheet just before something splattered it, and for a good thirty-seven seconds the lab was filled with the sound of heaving and retching. When the coughs and groans turned into pants and moans, the German scientist pulled the curtain back, pleased to see that Carter had followed his instructions and provided a very large sample of material for him to work with.
"What the hell did I drink?" gasped Carter.
"A hydrochloric acid solution with a small amount of arsenic and cyanide," reported the doctor clinically as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "With an embittering agent to induce vomiting."
Carter balked at Dresner. "...are you trying to kill me, doc?"
"Kill you? No. Cause enough damage to your esophagus and intestines to activate the healing proteins, allowing the solution to pick them up after regurgitation? That was absolutely my intent, Herr Carter, and I'm glad to say that it was a resounding success. Medical science thanks you for your contributions today."
The agent, who seemed paler than he did a moment ago, scowled at the doctor. "Yeah well...medical science has a funny way of showing its gratitude."
"I will arrange for a gift basket to be delivered to your office shortly," said Dresner dismissively. Then he waved his hand. "Now go. Shoo. You are dismissed."
As Carter left, Heinrich Dresner ignored the grumbling under his breath and collected the sample of "fluid," grinning in satisfaction.
Kinney never liked the medical wing. Sure, he understood why the Bureau had one, and he had to admit, the one in the base was probably the best one in the country. But even one as advanced as XCOM's still stunk of blood, antiseptics, and anesthetics as a team of dedicated doctors and nurses tended to agents who had taken debilitating wounds fighting the good fight. As someone whose Saturday afternoons consisted of hospital visits to see an ailing grandmother (may God rest her soul), John Kinney always felt uneasy being in such a sterile environment that nonetheless seemed to carry the mark of Death around every corner. (The fact that the Medical Wing contained a morgue just a few hallways away from the surgery room didn't do much to assuage his tension).
Even so, he had a good reason for visiting today.
After getting directions from one of the nurses, he navigated the halls and picked out which of the multitude of doors led to the patient room he was looking for. A few quick knocks, and a nurse came over and opened the door. It didn't escape Kinney's notice that she was gorgeous - blonde hair, soft facial features, green eyes and long legs - but the protective stare in her eyes and the ring on her finger sent a clear message that she wasn't available.
"Hello Miss Walters," said the Engineer, "Is Tom awake?"
"He is," said the woman with a tight frown, "but right now he's in the middle of a check-up. Maybe you should come back later and -"
"Hey, Liz...is that Kinney? Go ahead and let him in, dear."
The sound of Nils from inside the room seemed to soften Elizabeth's heart, as she stepped to the side with a sigh and reluctantly let the visitor in. Kinney stepped inside, nodding and smiling sweetly to his old friend as he passed her. She gave a fraction of a smile in response.
The Recon Agent was lying on a bed adorned with soft white sheets, hooked up to an IV line and various other medical devices. His bloodied and rank bandages sat in a nearby trash bin, revealing his bare chest as well as the plasma burn that stretched across from his right shoulder to his left hip. Kinney didn't shy away or feel uncomfortable - it was nothing he hadn't seen when the two of them were growing up, though the scars and wounds were definitely new. Despite the pain, Nils greeted his old buddy with a smile, though Kinney noticed he was clenching his jaw as he did so.
"Huh, doesn't look that bad," remarked Kinney as he sat down. "Remind me to propose to a nurse."
Nils gave a strained chuckle. "No way, man. I wouldn't wish this kind of torment on anyone."
"Oh, is that what I am now?" asked Elizabeth as she closed the door, letting down her mask of professionalism in the company of childhood friends, "A 'torment'?"
"Only when you slip the gloves and mask on," said Nils quickly, "Rest of the time, you're an absolute angel. But I still get chills whenever you pick up that...knife thing."
Elizabeth giggled. "I've told you a thousand times, Tom. It's called a scalpel."
"And now it's a thousand and one times," said Kinney with a grin. Then it faded. "Hey, Liz? If it's not too much trouble, could I talk to Tom for a sec? Alone?
The young nurse bit her lower lip in frustration, then sighed. "Alright, fine. But he needs to go back to sleep as soon as you're done talking." She hesitated for a moment, then leaned down to kiss Nils on the cheek before she drew away, her heels clicking as she left the room.
Nils, despite being stuck in a bed, seemed like he was over the moon. "She's something, isn't she? After all these years, I still have no idea what she sees in me."
"Well it's not your looks, that's for damn sure," said Kinney with a grin as he shifted in his seat a little. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a train carrying seventy tons of nuclear waste," groaned the wounded Recon Agent. "It hurts, and it burns, but mostly I'm just worried about growing a third leg. But that's neither here nor there. What's going on? You wouldn't be sending Liz out of the room if all you wanted to do was chit-chat."
Kinney's grin faded. "You're right, I wouldn't. I came to say goodbye."
Nils raised an eyebrow. "Goodbye? Is Faulke sending Strike Two out on another op already?"
"Not an op, per se," clarified the Engineer, "More of a...field investigation. Like what we used to do before Groom Range got hit. Right when we first started, remember?"
"Yeah...two years ago," recalled Nils. "And it couldn't wait until I was healed back up to send the full team?"
Kinney shook his head. "Faulke's fielding a smaller team for this. Apparently a full strike team is too high-profile for this kind of investigation. He wants things to be a bit more...covert this time around, so he's sending me, DaSilva, and Redmont."
Nils chuckled, wincing in pain. "He wants this thing handled quietly and he's sending Nico? The guy who can whip up a demo charge out of spare cardboard and a toothpick?"
"Guess that kind of resourcefulness is why he's being sent as the lead," said Kinney with a shrug. "As for me, I'll be the comms operator and repairman, while Redmont is our medical officer. We'll be going deep undercover on this - can't let anyone know who we are once we get there."
"I see. And where are you being deployed, exactly?"
The Engineer smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"We're heading to Roswell."
"...you're shitting me."
"That was my reaction too," said Kinney, shaking his head in bemusement, "But we've been getting unconfirmed reports of Outsiders trying to set up some sort of shipyard in the area, and that those crop circles that have been popping up in nearby farms are actually the foundations for future landing strips. It sounds like a stretch, but...if it isn't, we can't let that happen."
Nils nodded. "Yeah...the aliens already managed to get a foothold in Rosemont. If they manage to get to the point that they're able to build more ships right here on Earth…"
Kinney nodded, and a silence fell between the two, one that neither of them wanted to be the first to break. Nils, as usual, was forced to break it first.
"When are you leaving?"
"As soon as possible."
"How long will you be gone?"
"No idea."
"Will you be sending updates?"
"Every week, or immediately if we find something interesting."
The last answer seemed satisfactory for Nils, but the first two left a sour expression on his face. Kinney reached forward and pulled his longtime friend into a hug, squeezing as tight as he dared without disturbing the injuries.
"Wish I was going with you, buddy," groaned Nils as he returned the gesture.
"Me too," said Kinney quietly, "But we shouldn't be gone for too long. We'll be back before you know it."
Nils chuckled. "Always the optimist, huh?"
"It's gotten us this far," said Kinney with a soft laugh of his own.
The embrace lasted for a moment longer, before Kinney gently laid Nils back onto the bed.
"Get some rest, okay? Nico and Michael and I will be outside those doors waiting for you when you're all healed up. And then we're gonna have some real food. My treat."
Nils smiled. "Looking forward to it, John…" he mumbled, before he fell asleep again. Kinney took a moment to tuck his friend in before he stood up, gave Elizabeth a hug on the way out, and left the medical wing.
With luck, it wouldn't be the last time he'd be here.
