(Cw: lab safety, implied drug abuse)
r4
Glass on all sides. Formless. Alex was back in the test tube, but that was the least of his problems. The scent of Gentek scientists was heavy in the air, but there was no Dr. Mercer. The associates he'd consumed were here, though, he could tell. Which meant the bastard had to be alive. He had to be.
Alex reduced the glass to a pile of shards in a matter of seconds, and before the scientists there could even begin to scream, he was running. Alarms blared, security officers shouted and readied their weapons, but he was too quick for them. He went right out the door of Gentek, ignoring the rain and shouts and the scent of Blackwatch as he leaped over the concrete wall. Up the side of the nearest building, he kicked off into a glide, soaring over the streets of Manhattan.
Big glass building, one he got blown up in, that was what he was looking for. Shouldn't he have had a strike team on him by now? Whatever. Didn't matter. Just around the corner. He dropped from his glide to a rooftop, still sprinting, and kicked off just as he hit the edge. Back to a glide, just enough of one to send him crashing directly through the window and onto the living room floor.
The virus was back on his feet in a matter of seconds, and as though he'd lived here his entire life, headed right for the scientist's bedroom. He grabbed the doorknob, only to rip the entire door off its hinges. He tossed it aside-problem for later-and stepped into the room. Dr. Mercer wasn't in sight, but the hushed sound of his breathing and the focus of his scent directed Alex to the massive pile of blankets on the bed. The tension drained from him in an instant, and he gave the quietest sigh of relief. Dana would be even more so than him when he told her, but she didn't want to be bothered right now. Later.
He stepped to the edge of the bed, movements silenced by a careful distribution of biomass (he'd probably made more than enough noise for today). He hesitated for a moment, before resting his hand on the mound of blankets, a touch that could barely be felt through all the layers.
"Bi-" He started, but cut himself off, pondering for a moment. Probably not the best time for nicknames, huh. "...Alex? Are you okay."
The form hidden under the blankets stiffened in response to the touch, curling tighter in on itself. A quiet voice, lacking the usual venomous sarcasm or insulting lilt, spoke from within. "Just- fuck off..."
Alex pulled his hand away, frowning a bit to himself. If he didn't want bothered, he didn't want bothered. There wasn't much he could do about that. However, if yesterday said anything, it was way too fucking dangerous to leave him alone. From the looks of it, Alex wouldn't be convincing the scientist to get to the safehouse any time soon, either. So with a heavy thunk, he plopped on the ground next to the bed. There. He was fucking off, but he could still keep watch. He rested his head on his hand, watching the mound of blankets Dr. Mercer had buried himself in without a word.
For a long moment, Dr. Mercer was silent. Alex was still here. Did he even get the concept of fucking off? Probably not. Blackwatch would be following him. Cops too. He grit his teeth, and the memory of seeing his chest break apart like an old china plate came back to him vividly. How many times would he relive that while Alex followed him like a lost puppy? The air within the blanket pile was heavy and warm, heated by his too quick breath and the fearful shivers he'd barely managed to shove down. He gathered enough breath to talk, tried to steady his voice, add some weak bark to it- "Leave. I don't want you here."
I know what fuck off means, he wanted to comment, but decided against it under the circumstance. Dr. Mercer had been clear the first time, even clearer this round. So he stood, mumbled a quick apology, and stepped out the door. Only to sit down just in front of the doorway, on top of the door itself due to breaking it earlier. He could tell Alex to leave as many times as he wanted, it wasn't happening. He could easily take on Blackwatch if they came by, but that wouldn't happen if he left. So, the most obvious thing to do was to stay.
Alex tried to keep his focus on the situation at hand, but it was easy for his mind to wander. Maybe it had to do with the fact he knew what it'd felt like. Dying. He remembered Dr. Mercer's last moments, in more perfect detail than he remembered anything else. The fire in his chest as the bullets hit their mark, shredding him. Everything going black before he even hit the ground, the pain still there when he woke in the morgue. He held his head in his hands as he thought it over, exhaling slowly to steady himself as tendrils rippled up his back.
He lingered for a moment, before pulling out his phone-or, at least, the biomass copy of Dr. Mercer's phone. Why radios and phones still worked was beyond him, but he wasn't going to question it. Dana's contact was the only one relevant to him, but once he'd hit call, it went right to voicemail. Shit. There went any hope of asking her for advice, but she wasn't exactly in the state to help him. As the phone beeped, however, a thought came to mind.
Would Dr. Ragland still be at the hospital morgue?
"Dana. It's Alex. He's alright. I'm gonna keep an eye on him." A pause. "Stay in the safehouse. I'll be back soon." With that, he pressed the button to hang up, and tucked the phone back in his pocket. Why didn't he think of Ragland earlier? He glanced back to where Dr. Mercer was still bundled up, and contemplated it for a moment. It was raining outside, again, and he'd made it clear he didn't want to be bothered. The virus narrowed his eyes. No, this was too serious to heed the scientist's words. Besides, Ragland's morgue was a hell of a lot safer than the apartment.
Alex stepped back into the bedroom, the floor creaking under his weight. And, without any warning, he scooped up Dr. Mercer and his many blankets. The scientist swore under his breath, and pulled his cocoon tighter around him in response. Seems like Alex was determined to do… something. He had accepted his fate at this point, and counted the single blessing that keeping the blanket pile was. At least no one would see him.
Aside from the swearing, Dr. Mercer didn't seem to have any objections. Good. Making sure he had a firm grip on the blanket burrito that was his creator, Alex jumped out the window. The rainfall was as awful as ever, but he shoved thoughts about it aside. Across the street and up the nearest building he went yet again, this time making his way to the edge of Manhattan.
He couldn't glide with the scientist in his arms, so the journey was much slower than he liked, but what mattered was that he got there. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and slowed his pace to a more human level sprint as he scoured the halls for Dr. Ragland. His scent was in the air, he was nearby-there. In an office (it wasn't like there were any Blacklight infected bodies to investigate yet). Rather than breaking through the door, he stepped away from it, trying to ignore the way every breath he took was labored.
"-Ragland?" He fought to keep his voice steady, but the usual rasp to it was harsher than normal, panic coming out as aggression. He held Dr. Mercer closer in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. "Ragland."
The doctor opened the door to his office, and when he realised exactly who was standing there, his eyes narrowed. "Mercer?" his gaze flicked to the humanoid lump in the blankets, and he crossed his arms. "I've told you before, no. This doesn't change if you've stolen one from elsewhere."
If this were anyone else, Alex might have snapped at him, purely on account of how much he was struggling to function at the moment. But this was Ragland, and he didn't know him yet, he knew Dr. Mercer.
"I'm not-" He had to stop to inhale sharply, a shudder running through him that caused a full body ripple of tendrils as he struggled to maintain his structure. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to continue. "...I'm not Alex Mercer. This is. I need-fuck-I need your help." To prove his point, he held the lump of blankets outward, inviting the doctor to investigate if he wanted to.
The doctor gave him a strange look, and noted the tendrils. That wasn't usual at all- was he hallucinating? Alex certainly seemed to be, enough to dissociate completely from his sense of self. He'd probably found something new. Gingerly, he laid the blanket pile on the floor of his office, not turning away from Alex fully for a moment.
He unwrapped the layers, eyebrows creasing with the sound of breathing that got louder. Had he kidnapped some poor soul? Then, finally, he pulled back the final layer and was greeted by a tired looking, grumpy double. Right down to the significantly more creased clothes. Then the double took one of the layers he'd just removed and pulled it over his face with a grunt.
Ragland shot Alex- or perhaps his doppelganger- a very sharp look. "Explain."
Alex didn't respond. Instead, he staggered backward a few steps, swearing between rapid breaths. Now that Dr. Mercer was in safe hands, his adrenaline was gone, but how the feeling of suffocating remained. He swayed, before giving out entirely, dropping to the ground in an unconscious heap.
The second he made contact with the floor, however, instinct went to work. His body completely unraveled, leaving a blob of black and red tendrils that began spreading across the hallway to increase surface area. The less water in one spot, the quicker it would evaporate, or so the mass of Blacklight now covering the hallway seemed to think. Despite the open door, however, the virus avoided the office, settling in the hallway to try and dry off.
Dr Mercer cracked an eye open, tilting his head to look out into the hallway. He huffed lightly through his nose, and muttered in the oddly quiet voice that was left after he'd exhausted most of his feelings trying to cope with his own death, "He's just drying off. Don't worry."
"...So he is." There was a lot that could be asked about Dr. Mercer's companion, but with his determination to bring the other here, Ragland put his attention there first. He kneeled next to the scientist, looking over his exhausted form with a slight raise of his brow. "In the meantime... you don't exactly look too well yourself, Mercer. Any idea why he might have brought you here?"
Dr. Mercer didn't bother getting up, just readjusted the face hiding blanket piece with an irritated sigh, "I fucking died yesterday. He seems intent on getting me to… Feel better." The angry tone trailed off for a moment, blank confusion taking its place, but the aggressiveness soon returned. "How the fuck he found you, I don't know."
"I'm sorry, you died yesterday?" The doctor didn't say anything else on it, however, despite the slight furrow of his brow. Instead, he took a seat on the ground next to Dr. Mercer, glancing between him and the viral mass currently coating his hallway. "However he found me, from the sound of it, he was right to bring you here. That's quite the claim."
"Guess so." Dr. Mercer let a dark chuckle escape his lips, and pushed the blanket off his face to meet his pathologist friend's eyes. "Would you believe me if I said this is the fourth time it's been today?"
"I'm afraid you already know the answer to that." Even so, Ragland's expression remained calm and collected, lacking any indication of disbelief or belief despite the situation. He leaned back somewhat as the scientist finally revealed his face, in all his red-eyed and tear stained glory. The slightest furrow of his brow revealed his concern, but he continued despite it. "I'm more than willing to listen, however, if you want to explain."
"I've explained enough," Dr. Mercer grumbled, and started to restore his cocoon status, voice getting progressively more muffled. "If you want to know more, bother Alex. He looks drier. I'm going back to sleep." To finish it off, the blanket lump rolled onto its side, facing away from Ragland.
Alex had come back to not long after he'd shifted forms, though he hadn't moved-half to let Ragland and Dr. Mercer talk without interference, half so he could listen to them. It was enough for him to catch the cue from the scientist; he reformed in a swirl of tendrils moments after he was called on. If he could stop getting rained on, that'd be fucking great.
He scowled, but it faded into something far less harsh the moment he laid eyes on Ragland. The last time he'd seen the pathologist before now, it was to leave Dana in his care after the Leader Hunter's attack. Not a good memory by any means, but it established just how much he could trust the man in front of him. Rolling his shoulders to make sure everything was back in place, he managed an awkward wave for Dr. Ragland.
"...There's a lot to explain." Yeah, that just about summarized it.
"Alright." Ragland got to his feet, eyeing Alex over. "Perhaps you could begin with explaining-" He gestured to the entirety of Alex, "How your specific situation came about?"
He went quiet for a moment, contemplating how to summarize three weeks worth of events in a way that didn't involve time travel, stolen bodies, an apocalypse, or nuclear weapons. Might as well just give him the basic rundown of what he was-not like he'd remember, if Dr. Mercer's first few loops were any evidence. As with any good explanation of events, he started it off with a small shrug.
"I'm not human." It was easy to say to Cross-he knew the whole story by the time Alex was reflecting, and it hadn't even actually been Cross. Something about telling Ragland made it hit differently, though. It was harder to say, harder to think about. "You know about… Alex's work, I'm guessing. You two seem to know each other, so... I'm his work. I just look like him because I picked his form, or something." A fact he didn't need to prove, given the fact he'd been nothing but a shapeless mass mere moments ago.
The doctor's eyebrows rose into his hairline as Alex continued speaking, but he didn't interrupt, or question it. "And you're alright with this situation?" He hurried to correct his wording, realising that implied he could exactly change it. "You act kinder than many humans, you've got just as much of a claim to humanity as any of us." His gaze lingered on the tense blanket pile in the corner for a long moment.
The mention of "this situation" spurred his standard look of confusion, a look that only deepened as Ragland explained. It was a good moment before he could respond, staring down at the floor with a furrowed brow. It... wasn't an approach he'd considered before. He wasn't human, he was the virus that infected most of Manhattan. He would be that virus, anyway, when time stopped looping. Something surged in his chest that he couldn't place. Relief? Joy? Just more confusion? It was a weird cluster of all of them, and ultimately, he shook it off. He didn't get it, so he wouldn't dwell on that. Maybe ask Dana, or Ragland after the situation with Dr. Mercer was figured out.
"Huh." It was all he offered, but for a split second, he smiled. Of which only seemed to confuse him more, if the way he rubbed his face right after said anything. To clear his mind, he motioned to the blanket cocoon on the ground, changing the topic entirely. "Any idea how we can help him?"
Ragland looked at the cocoon for a moment, before shaking his head with a small smile. "I'm afraid, until he decides he's ready, he'll likely remain like that. Dr. Mercer is a stubborn man on a good day, he's nigh impossible to work with on a bad day- which if he's convinced of his death, today certainly counts." He looked to the worried young virus before him, and offered Alex a gentle, reassuring smile. "The best thing for him currently isn't medicine, or conversation, but rest. Perhaps you could do him a favour and substitute for him at his work…?"
Alex visibly perked up at the suggestion-he could do that. Playing a role was what he did the entirety of the apocalypse, bouncing between disguises and identities to get through to the next day. The fact he hadn't consumed Dr. Mercer (well, while he was alive, he supposed) would make things slightly more complicated, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He nodded, a little quicker than he actually intended.
"That wouldn't be hard." That, and if he could separate some of his biomass, he could stop what was probably a facility-wide panic about the missing bioweapon. Probably not a good thing to mention. "I know how to get there. Can he stay here? His apartment is…" A pause, "not great right now. So it'd be better if he was here."
Dr. Mercer responded by chucking a keychain in Alex's general direction, and his muffled voice followed, terse information rattling off his tongue. "Key to the lab's the one with red tape around it. Just play around with the equipment, I don't care what you do if they don't realise you've escaped. I'll go behind the couch." He stood up awkwardly, and stumbled over the room to hide himself like he was just a messy pile of fabric. Ragland's security camera was broken so he had no issues with placing himself there. The pathologist just looked exasperated, like he was used to this, but didn't stop Dr. Mercer.
Despite the careless nature of the throw, Alex caught it with ease, dangling the keychain with a slight tilt of his head. Yeah, definitely not a good time to point out his very noisy escape from Gentek earlier. He watched Dr. Mercer fumble his way over to the couch, and ultimately, all he cared about was whether or not pretending to be him would actually help. For the most part, that seemed to be a yes. He glanced to one of the clocks, before swearing under his breath-he was late. Not that he couldn't close the distance quickly, but still.
With a small nod to Ragland, he stepped back into the hall, and began to make his way back to the door. Laying in the floor of the hallway, however, was Dr. Mercer's jacket-the same one he'd let Alex wear the day before. It must have fallen from his biomass when he was drying off, but considering the way everything reset… he'd sort it out later. Scooping up the jacket, he pulled it on (he wasn't going to complain about protection from the rain), and headed out the door.
He'd thought he was Alex Mercer for three weeks, and even now, he struggled to think that he wasn't. How hard could this be?
Some sprinting, rooftop running and gliding later, and Alex was outside of Gentek. Where he was made, and where he'd first woken up. The last time he'd been to this building with the intent of going inside, it'd been to release Elizabeth Greene, as monumental of a mistake that was. This time, his only goal was to play the role of Dr. Mercer until work ended, with the sole purpose of making sure no one realized Blacklight had escaped this morning. And, by extension, making sure no one thought Dr. Mercer was to blame.
Which would have been a hell of a lot easier, if the place wasn't already crawling with Blackwatch. Go figure. Instinctively, he tugged his hood further down as he passed, avoiding their gazes. Half because he didn't want spotted; half because just looking at them made the urge to consume nearly unbearable. He'd spent a fuck ton of energy the last couple of days, more than he should have, and it had him on edge. Even so, the soldiers didn't pay him so much as a glance as he slipped into the building. For better or for worse.
Alex had just begun squinting against the bright lights when an associate nearly barreled into him. They let out an odd, squeaky yelp when they saw his face, pressing their clipboard to their chest and swallowing hard. He only gave them a confused look, even as they began rambling.
"D- Dr. Mercer! Sir, we-we're sorting the situation right now, I assure you! All evidence-it suggests that Blacklight wasn't stolen, I mean- you have the only key to the lab- which, which is good, but it doesn't explain, explain what we saw on the-"
"Blacklight wasn't stolen. It's right where we left it." His tone was quiet but firm, and before the associate could react, he was walking down the hall towards where he remembered the lab being. Scientists rushed about around him, the scent of Gentek in general making him have to fight not to grimace. Not to mention the sheer number of both Gentek and Blackwatch around, if his thermal vision was anything to go off of. The place was crawling with them. Knowing he was undercover kept him from externalizing any of his unease, but it settled like an anchor in his chest, multiplying the urge to consume tenfold.
He pulled Dr. Mercer's lab coat off a hook outside the lab, and after a moment's delay, pulled down his hood. The jacket took the coat's place on the rack, and he pulled the coat over one arm while unlocking the door with the other. He had an idea-a way to deal with the fact he was Dr. Mercer right now, not Blacklight. But he had to be quick. Shoving Dr. Mercer's keychain in the coat pocket, he slipped into the room, closing the door with a quick kick. To the lab table he went, grabbing an empty vial and flicking off the lid.
His body writhed at the thought of losing biomass right now, but it wasn't like he had a choice. He flicked his wrist, forming a short claw from one of his fingers. He grabbed a stray curl with the opposite hand, and with one swift movement accompanied by a wince, he severed the strand from his biomass. It began to deform almost immediately, but not before he could slip it in the vial. He turned to face the door just as the associate from earlier stepped through-and before they could even get a word in, he held up the vial.
"See?" He shook it a couple times as proof, but the brief look of horror on their face said he should probably not shake the deadly virus. He stuck it on a nearby test tube rack, watching the associate mumble nervously under their breath before heading over to one of the other stations. The rest of the Blacklight team soon followed, greeting him with a small nod or quick "Dr. Mercer" before heading off to do their own work. So this was the team that made him, people of all sorts of backgrounds and identities working to make the very thing that would nearly destroy all of Manhattan. The thought made him scowl. Sure, they wouldn't be able to get anything done if time kept looping. But eventually, it was going to be October. Eventually, Dr. Mercer was going to release the virus. If tomorrow looped again, nothing he did today would matter.
If tomorrow wasn't a loop again… maybe he could put a little delay in Gentek's plans. Subtly, as to keep them from hunting Dr. Mercer down, but he could work with that. Glancing to the associates, he searched around the table until he could find the paperwork. Years of research, careful observations of the Blacklight virus. It was hard to see where you were going if you didn't know where you'd been. Glancing around to make sure none of the associates were watching him, he started crumbling up the papers, a few smaller tendrils on his abdomen allowing him to consume the wads of paper as though they had never existed.
What else could he do-taint the equipment. Alex grabbed as many beakers and test tubes as he could, ignoring the raised brows from the ones working with him. He dumped them on a different table, then stepped back to the associates. He grabbed whatever was closest to him on their tables, not bothering to investigate what they could be and ignoring the frantic whispers as he carelessly handled every chemical he got his hands on. Back to the table of random containers he went. Only… half of these would explode, right? He could handle an explosion. Well, only one way to find out. Separating his assortment of containers, he started to open up the chemicals, dumping them into the containers with little more reaction than a slight furrow of his brow.
One of the associates, a younger looking woman, accidentally let a strangled yell escape her lips when her superior grabbed several different degreasing agents, bleaches, and the agar mix that was still setting from yesterday and started mixing them together without care for any lab safety. She could see some of her coworkers subtly thumb dialing what was probably Blackwatch or the police, but she'd been the one to respond aloud so she had to continue. She didn't dare get closer, but said, in the dizzy tone of someone seeing pure horror unfold, "Dr. Mercer- what are you doing?"
Alex looked up from his concoction, steely gaze meeting that of the woman who'd cried out. What would Dr. Mercer do? Probably be an asshole. He also probably wouldn't be sabotaging his own work, but whatever. He set two of the chemicals aside, just so he could cross his arms and narrow his eyes. There were some perks to your confused face always looking aggressive.
"What does it look like?" He motioned to the array of chemicals in front of himself, watching everyone in the room grimace as he nearly knocked some of them over. "I'm testing Blacklight's endurance." Which wasn't entirely wrong, if he made something explode in his face. "I don't see the problem. Blacklight's repulsed by water, too. Which this will fix."
Someone in a far corner, fiddling with the window from on top of a chair, muttered under their breath, "Can't take it out of the vial until we've got the quarantine room set up, though..."
"Quarantine room my ass," he muttered, recalling the way Dr. Mercer had smashed the vial without a care in the world. But then, an idea came to mind. A horrible idea for any human, but one that didn't mean shit to him. If they weren't going to let him sabotage, then fine. Alex stepped away from the table, moving instead to grab the vial of Blacklight off the test tube rack. He moved to the center of the room, making sure he was in full view of everyone around him as a chaotic grin spread across his face.
"It's just Blacklight. What's the worst that could happen." He flicked off the lid of the vial with his finger, swirling the contents for a moment. "Just watch." And with that, he brought the vial to his lips, threw his head back, and poured the contents in his mouth.
At the same instant, several things happened at once. The employees, though some were initially frozen by shock, ran to the freshly opened window and kept running across the concrete ground. The door was thrown open, and several uniformed- though not armored- Blackwatch soldiers rushed in. The commander was stuck still for a moment, undeniable horror crossing his face as he saw the situation. The employees- gone. Containers- bubbling, some exploding behind Dr Mercer. Dr Mercer- smirking like he didn't just down a deadly bioweapon like sherbet soda.
Well, that was a major setback if he'd ever seen one. The employees were on the run, and the door was kicked open, and he tossed the now empty vial behind him, all traces of Blacklight absorbed back into him. The moment of amusement and delight didn't last, however, when he realized just who was in here now. He turned sharply, smile fading to a snarl as he took a few steps away. One of those bastards called Blackwatch on him? Not to say he was surprised, but… fuck, he was hungry. He avoided looking at them entirely, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Aside from a muttered, "shit," he held his tongue, listening to their every movement as he looked away.
They just needed to stay over there. He wouldn't have a reason to tear them apart if they just left him alone.
"Dr. Mercer." The commander spoke, sharply, but he didn't seem surprised. He was ready to do what he had to, but procedure would keep those steps at bay for a small while. "I'm going to need you to confirm some personal information. First, your birth date."
Alex pressed himself against the wall, trying to shake the memory of the morgue from his mind-being gunned down by Blackwatch soldiers, even if he'd survived. What was Dr. Mercer's birthday? He didn't know. Right now, he didn't care. The urge to consume that he'd been fighting off so aggressively before now was unbearable, blurring his thoughts and making it harder and harder to ignore the Blackwatch in front of him. He clenched his fists, exhaling slowly. He needed to consume.
...Fuck it. Better to consume Blackwatch than people he didn't want to hurt when he couldn't control himself anymore. Alex rushed forward, grabbing the commander by the throat and pulling him up from the ground. He didn't give the man time to struggle, driving his fist right into his chest. The second the opening was made, tendrils tore through the non-biomass lab coat, wrapping around the commander and tearing him apart to be properly consumed. Before he was even done and the memories started flooding his head, he waved his arms, forming both sets of claws so he could tear through the remaining Blackwatch units.
This was something Alex understood. Throwing his enemies in the air so he could slice them in half, crushing flesh and bone like it was nothing in a solid grip, shredding through everything around him like paper. Most were consumed, others left on the ground in shreds. He could hear boots against the floor from where he stood; reinforcements, trying to figure out why no one was answering their call. He stepped away from the door, taking the form of the fallen commander , the lab coat's remains getting caught up in the mess of shifting biomass. They'd be killed just as swiftly as the others, and he knew that for a fact.
This was what he was made for. Whether he liked it or not.
Far away from the chaos, several hours later, Dr. Mercer slept on the floor of Ragland's office, swamped in blankets. Rest had indeed helped him to calm down, but the comforting presence of his close friend, working mere feet from him did more to help him. He shifted in the heavy pile, contemplating getting up, but he'd managed to find a comfortable position so he just stared blankly at the wall, taking in the bland patterns with bleary eyes.
The quiet peace of the two doctors was only temporary, however-if the sound of heavy footsteps just outside the door said anything. The door swung open, and in stepped Alex, in his usual attire with his hands in the pockets of his leather coat. He pulled one hand out, before tossing the keychain to Dr. Mercer, aiming for the floor so he didn't do any accidental damage.
"Work's over." He commented, before turning away, focused very intensely on one of the walls with his standard confusion. In reality, he was listening for Dr. Mercer, waiting to see his reaction so he could go from there.
Ragland gave Alex a small wave of greeting, but was busy typing up some kind of report so he couldn't exactly get tea and biscuits out for the guest. Dr. Mercer, on the other hand, had no such restraints and pushed himself so his head stuck out from behind the sofa, and looked Alex over. He was still in the freshly woken up sleepy state of someone with 0 energy, but his gaze was sharp as he looked at the perfectly normal copy of himself. He expected the worst, honestly, but he'd have to hear to find out, "So. How was it?"
Dr. Ragland got a small nod in return, but Alex's attention was quickly shifted to his creator. He moved over to the couch, seemingly unbothered by Dr. Mercer's decision to merely peer out from behind it as he crouched in front of him. He looked back to Ragland, then faced Mercer again, brow furrowed and lips drawn in a tight frown. He was awake, good. Alex wasn't exactly one to beat around the bush when it came to explanations, so he blurted out the first thing he thought (even if he had to fumble past the sheer number of memories bouncing around in his head to do it).
"-What do you normally do at work? They didn't think me drinking from the vial was anything weird, or mixing chemicals." A pause, as though he was thinking on it, consulting his own mind. "They're used to that kind of shit from you. I want to know why."
Dr. Mercer blinked once. Twice. Then, horrified surprise barely hidden behind acidic tone, he finally managed to put a sentence together. "What vial."
Frustration briefly overtook Alex's confused concern, as though there was only one vial and Dr. Mercer should have known that, but it faded as quickly as it had come. "The vial of Blacklight. They were talking about bullshit safety precautions they wouldn't even actually use, so I drank the Blacklight." Last moments of confusion, a lack of surprise but also horror at Dr. Mercer drinking the bioweapon flicked into his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. "It was just a small piece of biomass."
"You drank- okay. Okay." Dr. Mercer closed his eyes for a moment, an expression indicative of his thoughts coming to a nails on chalkboard halt. "I'm- not usually that bad." He pointedly ignored Ragland's quiet huff at his statement, "We do actually use safety precautions, though."
The virus stood, exhaling through his teeth. He paced in a quick circle, before crouching down again, rubbing his face with a look of worry better suited for the one who didn't drink the vial of bioweapon. Maybe not that bad. But he had memories to say it was bad, and the huff he heard loud and clear didn't help that much. Well, if he knew anything now, it was that Dr. Mercer was very much the kind of person who would smash a vial of a deadly bioweapon in Penn Station.
"Other than that," he mumbled, shifting the topic sheerly on the account of having no clue what to say, "work was okay. Most of the scientists fled the scene, and I consumed most of the Blackwatch there."
Although he was grateful for the topic shift from his past behaviours, the direction it took was nearly as unwelcome. "Most?" Dr. Mercer straightened up into a sitting position, though the rats nest's hair and slightly crooked glasses ruined the seriousness of the moment, "Were there witnesses?"
"No." Another feeling, adding to the flood of them he was keeping below the surface-frustration again. Frustration at the fact he had been killing Blackwatch and Infected for his entire life, and Dr. Mercer was doubting his ability to do it right. He kept anything he felt from his face, safe for the brief moment in which it darkened. "I killed anyone I didn't consume. They didn't see me coming. Sent an all clear to their base so they wouldn't investigate, at least not for the rest of today."
Dr. Mercer let out a relieved sigh, but the other occupant of the room was far less pleased. "Did you just admit to mass murder? And Mercer- do not encourage this sort of behaviour. I don't care what you took, or how Alex came to be, murder crosses the line."
Shit. Alex was on his feet in an instant, panic flashing across his features. Right. This wasn't what he was used to-this kind of thing wasn't normal. Of course it wasn't normal, he was a sentient virus that consumed people. He sulked into his hood a little, but kept his sharp gaze on Ragland, even if it was far more nervous than aggressive now.
"I didn't have a choice." He spoke with an uncharacteristic degree of softness, even as he stepped forward, instinctively reaching to Ragland in an attempt at comfort. "They were gonna kill me. If not me, then Dr. Mercer-or Dana, or you."
The harshness in Ragland's expression did not fade for the meek justification given by the virus. He knew he could not harm Alex, but he would not support the ending of another person's life no matter the circumstance. He refused to sell out his morals, and he took on the dead as a way of honoring their forgotten lives. This was the one line he wouldn't let anyone cross. "Mercer. Alex." He breathed slowly through his nose, and looked at the clock. "You have one minute to get out of my sight before I call the police. Leave."
The doctor scrambled to his feet, a dark look clouding his features as he tried to meet Ragland's gaze, only for the gentle hearted pathologist to look firmly into the space above him, dark fists clenched in barely hidden anger. He grit his teeth and pulled his hood up to hide himself with shaking hands, pushing out the doorway past Alex and stalking down the endless clean corridors as fast as he could manage to push his legs.
Even as Dr. Mercer pushed past him, Alex lingered, hurt etched across his features. But then he was gone, slipping out the door with silent footsteps before his absence could even be acknowledged. He followed Dr. Mercer down the hall, then moved ahead of him, heading out the door several paces ahead of his creator. No Ragland, then. No Dana, either-she needed to recover from what happened yesterday, and she'd call him when she wanted him back around. He lingered outside the door, not turning his head away from the street even at the sound of the door opening.
"Do you want me to take you home?" It was barely a mumble, but he might as well put the offer out there. He felt stuck-he had nowhere to go. He had nothing to do. He didn't know what to do. "They probably fixed the window."
Dr. Mercer barked a dark laugh, and gave Alex a grim smile from beneath the shade of his hood and the auburn sunset. "No. You don't need to do that. Nothing matters now, after all." He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, fingers digging deep into his palms, but it barely phased him as he looked around the front- or rather, the back- of the coroner's wing. He picked a direction he vaguely remembered leading to some alleys, and set off, shaky walking posture slowly correcting itself as he burnt away the excess energy.
Nothing matters now. The phrase seemed to knock Alex out of his sadness induced daze, but before he could respond, Mercer was trudging off some direction. A smashed vial, gunfire at Penn Station-he didn't like what those words implied. Casting Ragland's morgue one last glance, he set off behind Dr. Mercer, but took to the rooftops to oversee him from afar. The soldiers he'd consumed whispered in his head, alternating between telling him to stop and telling him to follow. Leave him be, he doesn't want anything to do with you. Follow him, you're all he has right now. Even as he walked the roofs, he rubbed his head, grimacing past the amount of noise in it. He just wanted to make sure he got home. That was it. Is this for him, or for you?
The man who was the subject of Alex's attention was only somewhat aware of it. Everywhere he looked, there were people- of course there were, it was nearly 8pm in New fucking York City- and if there wasn't people, there were looming buildings or dark alleyways which, while he could probably go looking through some for a place to hide, this wasn't his part of New York and he didn't know where the gangs or the police or any groups were set up.
He was lost, he was stressed, and he could not settle down anywhere for the life of him despite the hunger burrowing through his stomach, or the dull ache of his feet from the unexpected exercise. So he kept walking, staying away from the shadier looking parts, following the streets in a blind movement forwards, changing directions every so often. He was probably being watched. Being listened to. Being tracked like a prey animal by someone. Alex had confessed to mass murder in the middle of a quiet wing of the hospital, but that was still too public. And the foolish kid had his face, too. He kept walking. All the better to not think.
Dr. Mercer's energy was draining. By focusing intently on him, he could hear the pattern of his footsteps shifting, his pace slowing even as he pushed himself forward. Had he eaten anything all day, even? Alex could guess that was a no. It was hard to figure out what he even felt towards the man-resentment for what he'd do in October, for making him in the first place, but the fact Dana cared for him made him care, too. He was a bastard, but the kind that made you worry, the kind that didn't know how to fucking take care of himself and had his bioweapon tracking him so he wouldn't get killed. And the kind you only cared about more because of that. Surprisingly, a few of the soldiers he'd consumed had similar experiences, or had even been people like Dr. Mercer.
Whatever he felt, he cared about him. And Dr. Mercer needed help.
He finally dropped from a roof, hitting the concrete of an alleyway with enough force to make the buildings around him shudder. He left it as soon as he dropped into it, catching up with Dr. Mercer without even having to sprint.
"If you don't want to go to your apartment," he started, as though there hadn't been any gap at all between their conversations, "We could go to the safehouse. It should be empty, because of the reset. I can make spaghetti again."
Dr. Mercer stumbled back with a curse, back hitting a brick wall he misjudged the distance to with a thud. He didn't even waste a second to think his words through before he spat out a response drenched in the venom he always shielded himself with, "I don't want to go anywhere with you. Leave me be and stop coming back."
But Alex wasn't phased. If the venom hurt, he didn't show it; he merely picked up the pace, just enough to put himself right in front of Mercer. He dug his heels into the concrete, gaze sharp and intense but not aggressive. Just determined.
"Then I'll take you to the safehouse, and you'll stay there by yourself." He wouldn't be with Alex, then, now would he? "It's not safe out here. You said nothing matters, and that's bullshit. A lot matters." He narrowed his eyes, tendrils rippling down his back. "What's it gonna be, Alex?"
Dr. Mercer ran Alex's words through his mind once again, eyes narrow as he thought, before responding. "How about you fuck off and leave me alone instead?" He pushed off from the wall and walked in the opposite direction to Alex, but the dehydration and hunger decided to make themselves known, quite forcefully, and he fell to the ground unconscious.
The fall was too sudden for Alex to catch him before he hit the ground, but that didn't stop him from rushing to the scientist's side. Dumbass. He huffed as he carefully lifted Dr. Mercer from the ground, cradling him in a way similar to how he'd carried him to Ragland in the first time. With a crouch and a jump, he was back on the rooftops, holding the scientist tightly against his chest as he made his way to the safehouse. He didn't have a key, but he could barricade the door after breaking it open. He'd figure it out when he got there.
The virus could make the journey back to the safehouse with his eyes shut, given just how used to going there he was. With Mercer in his arms and no key, he settled for kicking the door down, making a note to himself to put it back later. He brought Dr. Mercer to the same sofa he'd set Dana on just yesterday, pulled the same blankets over him and left him there. From there, he headed into the kitchen, digging through the cabinets to see what he could make. There was enough consensus in his mind to turn him away from Nutella this time, instead directing him towards actual spaghetti sauce to accompany the pasta. Remembering water was part of making spaghetti, begrudgingly putting some in a pot and boiling the pasta. Putting more in a cup when he'd finished the food. Alex stepped back into the living room, plate in one hand, glass of water in the other. He set both on the ground next to the couch, before backing into the shadows, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Time to wait. Same as he'd done for Dana. To wait, to think about what they'd do next rather than what had happened before.
Dr. Mercer came to slowly, greeted by a familiar dirty ceiling and the smell of overcooked spaghetti. He sat up abruptly from where he'd been placed on the sofa, and saw that Alex was in the kitchen. Why the fuck was he here. He'd passed out and Alex took him to the 'safehouse'? Who the fuck would do that. Couldn't he have just left him there? Time was going to snap back soon enough- he didn't want to even talk to the damn virus so Alex's solution was to fucking kidnap him.
His expression twisted into a mute snarl and he stood up- forcing down the dizziness the action brought- and stumbled over to where he guessed the front door was, only to be met with a barricade of planks and furniture propped over a door sized gap. He stood there, swaying slightly from the complete lack of normal energy, and cursed quietly, turning to face the kitchen with dread pooling in his stomach.
He was trapped. He still didn't have the address of this place, so he couldn't get away safely if he wanted to. Dana no doubt still hated him- likely more so after seeing what sort of situation he was in, so he could hardly call her to ask for help getting away from this mad child. He was trapped. Completely and utterly unable to run away from Alex.
The "mad child" in question stepped out from the kitchen soon after, drawn in by the creaking of floorboards and Dr. Mercer's uneven breaths. He narrowed his eyes a fraction, pale gaze flicking over the man a couple times with an expression between confusion and frustration. Why was he up? He had slept, yeah, but he'd been doing that all day long. How this man even lasted into October was honestly beyond him at this point.
"You shouldn't be up yet," he muttered, before making a motion back to the couch. The look in his eyes suggested he wasn't taking no for an answer. "I made you spaghetti, but it got cold. So I'm making more. Sit your ass back down on that couch, and I'll bring it to you." In reality, he had gotten stir crazy and didn't want to pace the apartment, so he decided to cook everything he could get his hands on. Not that Dr. Mercer needed to know that.
Dr Mercer responded with narrowed eyes and crossed arms, ignoring the firm command. "Let me out of here. I want nothing to do with you."
"And I don't want you dying on the street." Alex shifted his hands to his pockets, but his expression didn't shift. Well, that was something he never thought he'd say about Dr. Mercer, at least four days ago. "You take care of yourself, and you can leave. That means eating food, and drinking water. But only after that, Alex."
"Why do you care?" He snapped, unyielding, "I'm the cause of all your troubles, surely letting me go would serve you better than mothering me."
"Because you're family." There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in his voice, though he was impressed at how clearly he could get his thoughts into words. Must've been a consequence of all the people he'd consumed today. "You're my family, and that means it's my job to keep you safe. I don't want anything to happen to you." He paused, furrowing his brow a fraction. "I don't know why that's hard to understand."
When those words left Alex's mouth, so simple and pure and innocent, the anger drained from Dr. Mercer's face, replaced by something like fear, or confusion- but not the red hot vicious feelings that dominated his expression so often. Family. That's something he hadn't thought of for years till this horrible week started. The simplicity of the concept of people being good to each other just because they shared blood was one he'd never seen last. His own family was a fractured, criminal ridden mess, with the occasional good egg like Dana slipping out of the clutch. Family.
He grit his teeth, unnerved by how many feelings the single word brought up. "Family," He repeated, as if questioning. "You want to care for me because I'm your family?" Dr. Mercer shook his head, "I'm a terrible person for you to choose to be family. Dana would be able to give you a hundred reasons for that. If you must care for someone, go fuss over Dana- she deserves it much more."
Alex answered the question with a nod, but the flicker of relief on his face at it being finally understood was quick to fade back into frustration. Maybe his view was too simple, yeah. His view of other people consisted of whether they were friend or foe, with essentially no in-between. But that wasn't the point. Tendrils rippled up his arms, and he exhaled through his nose.
"She could. I could. But even through all the things you've done, through all the things I've done, she never stopped caring." He started to reach toward the scientist, but reconsidered, ultimately sticking his hand back in his pocket. "She told me something once. No matter what happened, I was still her brother. She knew about the people I killed. What I did to them. And that's what she said-and she thought I was you. So no matter what happens, no matter how terrible the things you do are, you're still my family."
He paused, turning his attention to the wall just behind Dr. Mercer. Alex held his breath, staring it down as though he was waiting for something. That was how this worked, right? A moment of connection before everything went wrong.
"Dana doesn't want to see me right now, anyway." A stiff shrug, spurred on by how distracted he had become. He had to listen. He couldn't let it happen again. "Yesterday really hurt her. So I was leaving her alone. I'll do the same for you when I know you're okay."
Dr. Mercer listened to Alex, and once he'd finished talking his point- surely he was lying somewhere with how idealistic that story was- he gave a terse nod. "I'll eat something. And drink some water. Then you leave me the fuck alone tomorrow. Deal?"
That was all he wanted. Alex seemed to snap out of his daze, nodding with a quiet, "deal." He headed back into the kitchen without further response, preparing a plate with an absurdly large amount of spaghetti. Dana and Dr. Mercer could both take a break tomorrow-same with Ragland. He'd work on investigating the loop. He filled another cup with water, before heading back into the living room. Both the plate and cup were set down on the couch, and he offered Dr. Mercer a small nod before heading back into the kitchen.
Reluctantly, Dr. Mercer ate some of the spaghetti, well aware of how terrible it is. Someone would have to teach Alex to cook eventually, if even the hundred or so employees of gentek, blackwatch included, could merely produce this mess from group collaboration. It was bland, the water more so, but he'd had worse before. He got about a third of the way through the monstrous amount before giving up, just leaning back into the cheap fabric and glaring at the ceiling. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep, accompanied by the clatter of cooking utensils, until time abruptly, in the way it had so regularly done, dropped backwards into the start of the day.