And now for some action, because wow this fic DOES have a plot you guys! I know, CRAZY, but hey, what can you do.
Brief warning: There is some seriously gross stuff this chapter, mentions of torture, murder, death of children and cult activities will follow after this warning. Skip over the first big section if you do not want to read that. Look for the ### for the end of that section.
Other than that, psychic thoughts/conversations are conveyed by italics and bold. Hopefully that'll keep who and what is going on a little clear. I had another system in mind, but I realized it wasn't about to work on .
Thank you for reading, I hope you guys are enjoying it thus far!
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He stayed low in the dead grass, even with invisibility Sasha felt safer staying low. Caution had never hurt before, it certainly wouldn't hurt now as he and Milla quietly moved towards the orphanage's entry way. If he didn't know its history or feel the pained psychic energy covering the place he would have assumed it was a normal be it run down building. There were cheery flowers planted out front, old children's toys left on the wide wooden porch where the front door sat. Loose papers and a box of crayons were settled on the ground next to the door, a slow gust of cold wind whipping up one the pictures sending it fluttering through the air past the two psychics. Sasha stealing a glance back, watching the picture fall into the melting snowbank behind them.
Milla carefully stepped around a ripped up teddy bear, unlatching the door with a twist of her psi fist. The knob falling into her open palm as she strode in first. Sasha able to see it vanish, either into the folds of her jacket or simply being carried by the woman. He wasn't sure, nor did it matter, not when the house was this still, silence heavy across the building as the two calmly walked down the hall. Their psychic signatures masked with careful work as they found a stairwell leading to the second story of the four story building. The sting of psytanium bolstering their powers was hard to miss, Sasha able to guess it was hidden behind the walls.
I'll go upstairs Milla spoke in a psychic whisper, her words lacking any real emotion behind them. Her mask of authority had fallen into place just as much as Sasha's had. There was no room for emotional reactions right now, not when they had a mission to do. They were highly trained professionals, they couldn't afford to be basket cases over a case.
I'll go downstairs, it's not likely anyone has been to the basement yet. They certainly weren't the first on the scene, but the few agents who got here first had cleared out psychicly charged children who were a danger to themselves and everyone else in the area. The children had been fueled on enough psytanium that would have made any of the adults sick.
Good, keep me posted if you find her. With that Milla calmly walked away, heading up the stairwell. Sasha headed in the direction of the basement entrance, he staying quiet as he possibly could as he looked over the orphanage. The faux niceness wearing thinner and thinner the further one walked into the building. Wallpaper peeling off of the walls, scratched wooden floors, ratty falling apart furniture and lack of decoration spelled out things perfectly. This wasn't much of a home as it was an experiment run by a mad woman.
Sasha knew for certain, if Milla found Dahlia first, there would be a low chance of the woman's survival. He certainly wouldn't weep over the woman's death, all he could really do was insist she at least let the ex cult leader live for informations sake. They needed to know who helped her set this up after all. Her resources had been cut the last time they encountered her. The Psychonauts disbanded what was left of her cult with no mercy, leaving no trace behind beyond mentions of it in their own paperwork.
The German man kept his mouth shut though, simply side stepping broken toys and tossed aside papers to carefully undo the latch and lift the wooden basement door. Sasha felt relief at the sight of emergency lights already lit, they the literal guiding light down the steps. He didn't need much urging to make his way down the brick steps, he biting back a grimace at the faint brown stains on the concrete as he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't hesitate to walk further into the hallway. Sasha took a mental note of the cells lined up along the right wall, able to pick out a few sleeping children one of the bigger cells. Several children lay still in a very different and unfortunate manner were in another cell towards the end of the hallway. Sasha didn't dwell deeply on it, they were casualties, the Psychonauts couldn't have saved them.
Milla's low psychic voice cut into his mental notation. Anything so far?
One wall is nothing but cells with a few children in them. I'm going to contact the agents in charge of retrieving to check the basement. He calmly answered back as he let his gaze sweep across his surroundings. So far only one wall had cells with a few children within them. It would be more than enough to keep them busy if all of those children were psychic. He quickly tossed a message in the direction of his fellow Psychonauts, carefully controlling his mental channels as he reached out. One could never tell when rogue psychics were lurking in the background ready to intercept a message. The German man quickly filling in informational blanks as he hung back, barely noticing a door opening. It taking a curse from the other side to snap him from his mental conversation. He tensing up in readiness incase the woman somehow felt through his shielding and invisibility. It was a rarity, but it had happened before.
It was one of those odd nuns. Her long coat sleeve was caught on the door, she struggling with it fruitless before simply ripping the fabric off of her arm. Revealing the fact she had a latex suit underneath, that red shiny latex bright against the dull glow of emergency lights overhead. Sasha simply watched as she ripped away the rest of the black robe dress, dropping it to the floor and kicking it aside. She apparently wearing high heels under the robe as well. The woman was a legitimate wet dream for people in love with the idea of the bondage scene with no idea how it truly worked. Her figure was nearly impossible, pushed into the shape by her dress and the belts restricting her movement. It took a moment for Sasha to notice the fact her teeth were misaligned. He squinting warily before realizing they weren't even teeth, they were metal studs, her teeth were pieces of a zipper jammed into her gums where teeth once were. A zipper piece itself settled at the corner of her mouth, bobbing with each movement she made. Disgust settled low in his belly as he watched her.
"Master will be so angry with me," She muttered angrily under her breath, simply shredding the remnants of her dress and walking away from the door. He let her walk a few steps before knocking her over with a mind bullet. The Nun crumpling into a heap of latex, strained skin and rubber on the concrete floor. Sasha quietly peered at her, filing away information for later as he pressed his fingers to his forehead briefly, opening up his mental channel.
Found one of the hostiles, heavy body modification has been done on this one. He pinged Milla calmly back, reaching out to alert someone to grab the woman while he went into the area she just left. He sending a general image through the link, unsurprised at the faint ripple of emotions he got as a feed back. Weaker stomached agents certainly didn't react well to the image of the flash of queasiness was anything to go by. Others found faint dry sort of amusement in the fact this cult went from being nearly Puritian to this.
He let it sink in as he moved through the open doorway, the German man finding a small makeshift office and a few other doors. He opening one and seeing it was purely a room full of filing cabinets and medical supplies. The next door led to a small medical room with a few ratty cots set up and toys left out on the floor. The only moving thing in the room was a nun, humming a song under her breath as she scrubbed the floor. A flash of red showed she was like the other woman he encountered, clad in latex and heels. Sasha quickly and easily neutralized her, sending out another alert before he went into the last door. It contained a small under furnished bed room, he finding Dahlia Gillespie settled across her bed. Her bony hands clutching at a scripture book as she lay on her back, her head lulled to the side. Her veil and greying blonde hair obscuring her features entirely from where he stood at the doorway. He approached cautiously, quick to constrain her with a psi-fist until he realized the woman was dead. Very much dead if her lack of eyes were anything to go by. He checked her pulse, confirming for certain the woman was deader than dead by this point.
He felt some relief at this as he alerted Milla, heading back the way he came as two more psychics came down the hallway to collect the children and latex clad nun's. More following soon after the first two, the clean up job was going to be a pain for everyone involved. The paperwork, therapy and mental check ups for agents would pile up faster than it had before. The German man simply focused on finding Milla, heading up the stairwell where he last saw her. He passing by two retrieving agents on his way up the stairs. Invisibility falling away due to the all clear from the rest of the agents in the area. More hostiles had been found and dealt with accordingly. Stretchers being brought in to carry the guilty and innocent alike.
Milla?
The silence that answered him made his stomach twist slightly as he probed again, Milla? Answer me.
There was no lull this time, Milla quick to answer with the tone he had. I'm here, sorry for the delay. I was checking something.
Where are you?
Fourth floor, fifth door down.
He found her in a burnt out playroom, broken toys and a dead little girl occupying the ruined room. The scorch marks along the walls behind her body showed it had been an accident, the child's powers exploding out on itself and taking the girl with her. Even with the facts it didn't make it any easier to look at. Sasha suppressed a grimace as he looked to his partner. Her expression was blank, guarded from the world as she just stared at the scene.
"It looks like, she had pyrokensis as a specialty," The Brazilian woman murmured, breaking her verbal silence. The German man could only reach out, gently clasping Milla's shoulder in comfort. The two looking on in silence. It only broken up by the secondary psychic shout of all clear. The lull of quiet broken by a flurry of Psychonauts coming onto the grounds. Milla was the one to pull away first, striding towards the door of the room. "Come on, we'll need to give our debrief,"
"Of course," He walked after her easily, the two walking down the stairs. The empty building suddenly full as psychics pulled it apart. Milla ignoring stretchers being pulled out of the house, her calmness never once shattering as she walked back out into the dead grass in front of the house. Sasha stayed near her, quietly observing the operation as armored psychic proof vans were loaded up. The cultists were loaded into one van in varying degrees of wakefulness, cuffed to their seats. Milla quietly made her way back towards the jet, almost seeming to part the heavy fog that fell over this place as she strode forward. Sasha trailed after her, glancing back warily at the other agents as they worked on containing the scene.
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"We didn't get a lot from the paperwork Dahlia left for us. She never directly named her benefactor," Truman stated simply back as he shifted through the stack of paperwork on his desk.
"Not even once?" Milla questioned back, eyes narrowing dangerously back. The plump man shook his head, mustache moving with his words, "Not once. Any mention was blacked out before we got there. It's fresh from what I've been told,"
"Certain explains why there were so little in the way of staff," Sasha intoned as he adjusted his sunglasses. "Most of them had a chance to flee the scene,"
The redheaded man nodded back at that, "We still caught a large number of them, the problem is getting any of them to talk," Truman knew of the devotion the cult had to its beliefs, one did not betray the codes. Two cultists had attempted to kill themselves on the way back to New York just solidifying that fact for the psychics. "We know we can always jump in to their heads, but we'd rather have a vocal confession. If not, several agents will go in and find the appropriate memory vaults," He eyed Milla as he added, "You and Sasha are on paperwork duty. You've done enough for this case."
Being singled out made the Brazilian woman stiffen up slightly, a touch of a frown curling across her features as she spoke. "Truman-"
"No, paperwork or you're transferred to another case entirely," He didn't soften the blow as he spoke, straightening up the stack of papers in his hands as he leveled a steady gaze at Milla. A brief flicker of distaste showed Milla's real feelings on matter, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Yes, sir,"
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Milla sulking was something Sasha knew how to handle to some degree. His friendship with Milla had been close enough to actually see. The sunny facade was her, but not always. He gently took her hand in his own, squeezing it as they walked together. The Brazilian woman barely responded, turning her head away to focus on the melting snow drifts along the sidewalk.
"Milla where do you want to go for lunch?"
"Anywhere is fine, dear," She sighed, offering his hand a limp squeeze in turn. Milla hardly paying much attention as they walked together.
Her lack of response left a nervous lump in the back of his throat as he responded. "Ah, of course," Lunch was a silent stiff affair, discomfort solidly there as Milla replied with quiet nonverbal responses. She picking at her food, disinterested in what was going on. Her mind was elsewhere, only occasionally offering quiet responses when Sasha vaguely tried to engage her in conversation. The case clearly was taking its toll on her, at least that's what Sasha was assuming.
Even when they parted ways, Sasha felt the slog she was most likely going through. He caught her on the way out of the office, gently grabbing onto her arm to stop her from leaving just yet.
"Do you want to come over tonight?"
She paused for a moment before slowly nodding, "Yes, I would," She gently held onto his hand, lacing her fingers with Sasha's own. "I'll get a few things from my home and come over," She brought Sasha's hand up to her lips, kissing his knuckles softly back before releasing his hand. The Brazilian woman calmly walking back to her car. Sasha lingering at the HQ's entrance, weakly smiling as he patted his pocket for his car keys. He eventually finding them as he moved his way towards his own car. The trip was a quiet one, Sasha feeling too queasy to really dwell on playing with his car's radio or putting in a CD. The silence was enough for Sasha as of now. He automatically driving his way home as his eyes took notice of the scenery.
He busied himself with dinner, glancing up as Milla let herself into Sasha's apartment. The German man offered her a small smile as he spoke. "I hope pasta is alright, if you're hungry that is,"
The woman's features brightened up at that, the edge she had been carrying all day lightening considerably. "That sounds fabulous, darling, thank you," She slid out of her jacket, hanging it up on the metal coat rack by the German man's door. She moving over to Sasha, peering down at the stove top curiously as she spoke. "Do you need any help?"
"I can handle this, go sit down." He gently waved her away as he continued working on the meal. Not looking up as he turned the heat up under the pot. Even without looking, Sasha knew Milla had walked over to the living room area. She settled into one of the creakier arm chairs, quietly giving an relaxed exhale in turn. Her gaze focused on Sasha, clearly just watching him do the work while she did her best to actually unwind. The Brazilian woman relaxed to some extent, eventually getting up to set the table herself.
She startling the German man by coming by to press a kiss against his cheek. It warranting a low smile from the German man, he dropping his gaze back to the pot in front of him as he tested another noodle to see if it was done, pleased to find it was. He grabbing his serving spoon out, turning to grab one of the plates, only to find Milla had already beat him to the punch. She holding up a plate with an easy smile. Even without her help, it wouldn't have taken very long for Sasha to dole out the pasta, not that he didn't appreciate it. He wasn't quite used to having company over for dinner, much less his girlfriend. She certainly invited herself over often enough, but they usually were content to watch movies together or talk.
The meal itself went by in silence, be it a less tense one than their lunch had. The two quietly washing up the dishes and pots together, Milla eventually humming as she worked. Some spark still there, even if it was subdued by this point. Sasha simply let things go, watching her from the corner of his eye as he placed his dishes back into their usual place in the cupboard. By the time he turned around he'd see Milla leaning against one of the counters, toying idly with the top button of her blouse. She eventually undoing it, followed by another and another. It easy to see her bra straps, the cups being revealed as she fluttered her eyelashes back at him.
"Darling, come here,"
He hesitated, feeling his stomach knot up as he took a few tentative steps forward. "Ah, of course," He felt less wanting and more nervous. Milla easily tugged him into a kiss, clearly eager as she moved to push Sasha up against the counter. Her fingers digging into the fabric of his clothing as she deepened the kiss. Sasha had little response, awkwardly returning the deepened kiss as he pressed lightly against her. His hands staying up at her sides, unsure of where to touch her. Milla broke away from the kiss a moment later to frown tightly at the German man, frustration coloring her words as she stared at him. "Are you just not in the mood?"
"What- of course I am," He fumbled awkwardly back, trying to curl his arms around the woman's waist, he was rebuffed as Milla backed away out of his reach. Her mood cloudy and much clearer as she spoke. "Every time we even try to have sex, you never seem to want it,"
"I do-" He started to protest, guilt slamming into him as he reached out for Milla. She batted his hand down in irritation as she spoke. "Sasha, you don't. I'm not blind, dear, you always act like it's some chore you have to get through," She buttoned up her blouse, turning her back to the German man. Stillness fell between them as Sasha struggled to actually verbalize something, he beaten to the punch by Milla sighing. "Sasha, I'm going home. Thank you for dinner, but, I can't deal with babying you tonight." Disappointment was clear in her voice as she moved grab her coat from the coatrack. Not giving Sasha much of a chance to respond as she slid back into it. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, dear,"
The slam of his front door jarred the man from his stupor. "…Fuck," By the time he got his shoes on and was out the door, Milla was already pulling her car out of the driveway. Pointedly ignoring him calling out to her as she drove away. The Brazillian woman speeding her way out of the neighborhood entirely, clearly not going to even give Sasha the chance to try and catch up.
Sasha just watched her car go, feeling considerably useless as he awkwardly made his way back to his complex's doorway. He patting his pockets unhappily, expecting to find a key somewhere in his coat, it taking him a moment to realize he left his keys inside. The German man just stared at his empty palm, letting it drop before lightly knocking his head against the wall next to the complex's door a few times in frustration. The sound of the door opening distracted him from his attempt to give himself brain damage, one of his neighbors was holding it open for him. "Come in before you freeze out there, Sasha,"
"Thank you," He murmured softly back, unsure how to feel about the sympathetic look the woman was wearing as he walked in. He at least glad he left his own apartment door unlocked as he walked in, calmly locking the door behind him before dejectedly moving over to flop onto his bed. The german man feeling too tired to really care.
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