To Butterfly: I like the Heroes of the UK, too! I'm happy to see that people are getting attached to this group!
To StarDaPanda225: My secret is twofold. First, because I write the story in its entirety before publishing, I actually have a backlog. If you look at my profile, the story I'm working on now is "Lukagami." Second, I write in spurts – I'll crank out a month of "Patrol Logs" in a day or spend a weekend writing a couple "SLD Case Reports," write sporadically for a few days (I have a day job), and then write several chapters in a day.
To yellow 14: It is a bit clichéd for them to come together over a trauma, but certainly worked for this story. I try to avoid overusing clichés, though sometimes they fit.
Felix woke up with his neck bent forward at an odd angle, his legs elevated the slightest bit and hanging over the edge of something firm and unyielding. Quite unlike his own bed – or even the thin cot in his dorm room – this bed felt stiff, lumpy, and uncomfortable under him. The blanket draped over him felt scratchy and rough. The throw pillow under his head did nothing to soften the hard wood of what he finally realized must be the arm of a couch. He blinked once in the grey light filtering through the window on one side of the room and finally took in his surroundings: a roughly-furnished living room less than a third the size of his bedroom at the Manor. A television sat against the far wall on an entertainment centre, a couple of potted plants on either side of it. Below the window was a small scratched-up bookcase laden with books, many of which bore library markings, with a planter of fresh herbs resting atop it. Other than the couch he had slept on, there were a couple old wooden chairs and an end table on which Barkk was curled up asleep, her paws moving slightly as she dreamed.
With a frown, Felix rubbed the back of his neck and looked around in confusion, unsure what had woken him – or even really where he was. But he was certain this wasn't his dorm room. The events of the previous night all ran together in his sleep-addled brain. From the traffic noises he could hear outside, he was somewhere in London, probably not too far from the Thames. How had he gotten here? A glance down at his watch showed that it was almost 7:30 in the morning. If he left right now, he could probably get back to the workshop and reach his first class in time. Although he hadn't ever finished the essay that was due this morning.
The night before he had at least taken off his shoes; he slipped them back on and sat up, stretching his back to work out the ache that had set in from sleeping on the lumpy couch. Frowning, he looked around for a kitchen or bathroom to get a drink of water and rinse out his the stale taste left in his mouth because he hadn't brushed his teeth before falling asleep. The living room opened onto a small, pristine kitchenette, and he got up to walk over, but before he could investigate, he heard again the sound that must have woken him up.
A quiet whimper echoed down the hallway to his left.
The previous night suddenly came back to him with a vengeance. He had carried Iron Maiden – "Bridgette," she had told him her name was – back to her workshop, where she had activated her suit, a firm set to her jaw as she climbed inside it. The moment she was ready, the two of them had gone out and searched the city from top to bottom, running together in concentric circles, first around the area the Ripper had been targeting recently, then expanding out from there to cover the entire city. They had searched together for hours, long past dinner, long even past midnight. Long enough that Iron Maiden had needed to refuel her jetpack and replace her suit's battery twice while he had continued to search on his own. They had stayed out so long in fact that Iron Maiden had nearly flown straight into the Tower of London out of sheer exhaustion on her final pass. That had been enough for him: although Bri had tried to stay at it longer, she had been in no position to protest when he had snatched her out of the sky and carried her back to the workshop. Despite her weak protests she had acquiesced, shut down her suit, and stumbled weakly out of it. Once he had detransformed, he had asked whether she wanted him to walk her back to her apartment building to be safe. Then, when they had arrived at the front door, she had clenched his hand tightly and begged him to come inside with her. After her flatmate's abduction she didn't want to be alone in the empty apartment.
So this was Iron Maiden's – Bridgette's – apartment. Felix stopped just in front of the hallway and looked down it nervously. Her bedroom must be at the end. He shouldn't go down there; Bri's privacy had been violated enough already, in a horrible fashion – and less than a week ago at that. She deserved to be safe in her own apartment. And after they had only just gotten back on speaking terms again twelve hours ago, he couldn't do anything to jeopardise that. He turned back toward the kitchen, but froze. Another whimper, this time louder. At the sound, Barkk started awake and looked up at Felix. The Kwami let out a soft whine, a question in her eyes. Felix closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't just sit out here and listen to his friend cry, either. Finally he made his decision.
He followed the sound of Bri's quiet moaning down the hallway, Barkk perched on his shoulder, her wagging tail pattering steadily against his shoulder blade. The first doorway he passed was open and led into a bathroom. The door opposite the bathroom was closed, but the sound came from beyond there. Finally, unsure what to expect, he arrived at the last two doors, one of which was slightly ajar. "Am I doing the right thing?" he whispered.
Barkk shrugged. "A Dog will always come when his partner needs him."
"Yeah…" Felix slowly pushed it open, but hesitated in the doorway without entering.
The bed was pushed into the corner, a thrift store dresser at the foot. Clothing lay in strewn haphazardly around the room in small piles on the floor. Bri lay in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. She held the bed sheet in a death grip, her knuckles white. Her eyes were open and unfocused, staring up at the ceiling. She quivered and trembled in place, breathing erratically. "N–no," she whimpered. "P–please."
"Bridgette?" Felix called hesitantly, knocking on the door. Barkk flitted past him into the room, hovering directly above Bri.
"N–no…" Bri's breathing became ragged.
"Bri!" he whisper-shouted as he knocked a little louder.
She cried out in terror, thrashing, writhing on the bed.
Unable to watch any longer, Felix crossed the room in three strides and knelt next to her bed. "Bri," he called again, softer this time, placing his hand over one of hers, barely brushing her skin.
The effect was instantaneous. Bri turned on him, wild-eyed, wrenched her hand out of his weak grip, and swung her other arm at his head. Barkk phased through her arm as it passed, and Felix ducked, narrowly avoiding the haymaker, before he shouted, "Wait! Bri, it's me! Wake up!"
She blinked, her eyes focusing on his face. Her brows knit together in confusion, her mouth opened slightly in an O. "Felix?" she whispered. "W–why are you here?"
"I'm sorry," he apologized, backing away a pace, out of her range, his hands held up in a placating manner. Barkk dropped down to nuzzle against Bri's cheek, and she cupped a hand around the Kwami, whose tail wagged. "I was in the living room when I heard you. I–I didn't want to come in here, but I couldn't just listen to you… It sounded like you were having a nightmare."
She swallowed hard and fixed her eyes on him, her mouth set in a frown. "Oh… you heard that?" she asked, flushing.
He nodded, running a hand through his hair guiltily. "I–I'm sorry. For coming in here while you were asleep and without your permission, I mean. And for–"
Bri sat up in the bed, her blanket slipping down off her shoulder, revealing the same shirt she'd worn the day before. She hugged the blanket tightly to her chest, leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes. "I know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I know."
Barkk curled up on Bri's shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered, rubbing her cheek against Bri's neck. "We're here for you."
Bri nodded, letting a breath out through her nose. "Thanks."
Felix took a half-step back toward the door. "Um…" he began hesitantly. "Can I make you tea?"
"No." She shook her head and looked up at him, her eyes betraying her vulnerability. "Please don't leave. I… I don't want to be alone." She patted the bed beside her and slid over, closer to the wall, to make space for him to join her.
Felix nodded and sat down next to her on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor. Bri leaned over and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Hesitantly, Felix put his hand on her shoulder. Her breath hitched. "Is this okay?" he asked, not daring to move.
She nodded jerkily. "I–I'm scared," she admitted, letting out a heavy sigh. "When I arrived in London, I was just running away from Paris, wanted to leave everything behind. That included my Papa, of course. But it also included my Maman and my friends, too. After finding out about what Papa was doing, I was ashamed of him. I didn't want anything to do with him. I was afraid that when people found out, they would blame me – say that I should have done something sooner."
Barkk patted her shoulder. "I can imagine how difficult that was to do," she told her. "I don't think I would like just being all on my own like that."
Felix tightened his grip on Bri's shoulder. "I understand. I guess now you know what I meant about my uncle." He let out a humourless chuckle. "I was only in Paris once during Hawk Moth's reign, and I was still afraid that I could get caught up in the fallout from his unmasking. I was still civil toward Adrien, but that was it – at least at first."
"When did it get better?" Bri whispered, trembling.
He shrugged. "It took some time, but we made up," he confessed. "He had no more to do with his father's misdeeds than you do with yours. And thanks to a few good decisions and some timely intervention from the Heroes of Paris, over a year later he's largely escaped his father's shadow. The same can be true for you."
"Maybe." She sounded doubtful.
"Definitely," he assured her. "You won't face it alone. And you're not alone now, either."
Barkk nodded. "You're in my pack now, and a Dog's pack sticks together!"
"That's the thing," Bri answered. "I was on my own when I came to London. I wanted a clean break, so I barely answered any calls from my friends back home. I've seen my Papa once since arriving, and only talked to my Maman a few more times than that. I was alone in a new city and didn't know anyone. But that was when I moved in here and met Anne. She's more than just a flatmate, more than just a friend. She became like the sister I never had, and she never let me feel alone again – even after everything that happened… last week. But now she's alone… with him. And I know – too well – what must be happening to her–" Her voice cracked, and Felix rubbed her back comfortingly. She leaned into him and sniffled back a sob. "I know what might have happened to her already. And if she's still alive, by now she probably wishes she was dead."
"We'll find her, Bri," Felix promised, squeezing her shoulder. "And we will bring the Ripper down. He will never hurt anyone again."
She sniffled and looked up at him pleadingly. "How can you be so sure?"
His gaze hardened. "Because if we fail, I don't know what I'll do."
