Charon slowly crept up behind his target, making sure to keep his profile low. He took a quick glance around, one last check to confirm that there was nobody secretly watching who would notice him as he struck. Satisfied that there was no one else, he kicked the back of the man's legs, sending him to his knees. Then he quickly ran his knife over the man's neck, his already soaking wet hands not able to differentiate if any blood had got on him or not. Not that he cared. The heavy rain would wash it out after a minute or two at most.
He grabbed the collar of his kill's shirt, dragging the corpse backwards with the hand holding his knife while his other kept his pistol readied and looking for more targets. Pulling the man around the corner, he kneeled down, giving a louder than normal click to try and be heard over the downpour. He heard one back from a shadow not far from his location.
There was a flash of lightning across the dark sky, his shadowy form temporarily revealed to his squad mate. Hunched over animalistically in the shadow of a building, Reacher was looking at the Reaper, the brief flicker of lightning reflecting off his helmet and barely illuminating the monstrous visage normally hidden below. He looked every part a demon hunting from the shadows.
Then darkness returned, both operatives creeping forward, hidden in their own respective realms of shadow. While he could not see Reacher, he knew the sectoid was just to his right, keeping pace with him as they moved forward. As much as the torrent could be a disservice, his wet clothes being heavier and harder to move, as well as the water that would occasionally land on his mask and block his sight, it also granted them major boons. And the duo were taking full advantage of them.
Other than the occasional strike of lightning that lit up the world, the darkness of the night felt tenfold, with the rain only aiding in chocking out artificial light from any source. Lamp posts, flashlights, and headlights from parked cars where guards overlooked the meeting site, all were significantly diminished by the storm. And the noise, the incessant, pounding sound of rain landing on concrete, metal roofing, brick walls, it all deafened their prey to any noise Bauk made. Meaning they could move around far faster than usual.
Normally, Charon and Aspis would be the fastest moving units while keeping a low profile, but with the storm that had come in a few hours earlier, even Hunter would be more than capable of keeping pace with the Reaper and making no discernable sounds. And the seemingly broken open sky was supposedly going to continue its assault of the ground for the next several hours. More than enough time for the shadows to enter the meeting, claim their prize, and disappear into the night.
"This is Charon. Almost to the perch," he said into his radio, seeing the cargo crane a short distance from his current location.
"Understood, Charon. Secure the area above. Reacher, deal with any ground level hostiles," Hawkeye advised.
The two gave brief affirmation to Hawkeye, slowly splitting apart without glancing to the other. Feeling the psionic separate from him, Charon began to focus more on his surroundings, no longer having his partner to aid in spotting threats through the veil of the rain. He dropped lower, moving towards the stairway of the crane. At the base, he could see a small, dangling light connected by a thin wire, being battered by the wind and swaying side to side.
He stopped a short distance away, kneeling down and trying not to shiver as he found himself waiting in a frigid puddle of collected rainwater. He took in a breath, raising his pistol and beginning to track the swaying light source. Once it reached the end of one of its swings, he pulled the trigger, smiling to himself as the bullet struck true and destroyed the bulb without a sound. He waited, seeing if anyone would come to investigate. After a short delay of nothing, he rose from his hiding place and began to move towards his target.
He reached the stairs, ascending them slowly with his pistol aimed upwards and watching in case anyone was waiting above or coming down towards him. His climb eventually came to an end, the large, box shaped cabin where the controls to the crane were located was before him. He peered inside through one of the windows, appearing as a dark ghost looking for anyone hiding within. He could see deep inside was a single individual, resting at the console with what appeared to be a rifle in their lap. Their gaze was forward, across the harbor and scanning for anything, what little could be seen.
Charon lowered down, disappearing from view and reaching for the handle to the door. He counted down to himself, bracing for his breach. Hitting zero, he swung the door open, knowing the rain would cover the sounds of it slamming into the railing to everyone except the man inside. Panic instantly overtook the sniper, who turned to the Reaper with wide eyes while trying to ready the rifle for combat. He never got it very far off his lap before a single round pierced through his skull and he slumped over lifelessly.
Charon scoffed, entering and closing the door behind him. He took the man's body and tossed it over his shoulder, surprised at how easy it was to lift the individual. He then exited the cabin, working his way down the stairs, body slung over his right shoulder to allow use of his left arm and pistol should he need it. Nearing the bottom, he heard a click from Reacher, returning his own and finishing his descent. He found the sectoid waiting just beside the steps with his back to him and scanning the immediate area.
"I'll hide the body. Get into position. I'll join you soon," Reacher said, moving to take the dead man from Charon.
He eased the body onto the sectoid's narrow shoulders. "Got it. I'll see you soon," Charon said, turning and beginning his way back up, albeit much more swiftly than before. Once at the top, instead of heading inside the cabin, he took the walkway around the side, finding easy access to the long arm of the crane. He tucked inside the small path within the arm, finding that it was just large enough for him to crouch into and walk on. While not inside and out of the storm, he was grateful the rain wasn't landing on him directly for what felt like the first time of the op. Reaching the end of the crane's arm, he lowered into a prone position, slinging up his Vektor rifle and locating the area where the trade deal was to take place.
He needed to sweep for a short beat, finding it difficult to identify what he was looking for through the rain. But eventually he found it, seeing the large warehouse with a small dock nearby where he would be needed for the next part of their plan. "This is Charon. On overwatch and ready for phase two," he said calmly, keeping his ears focused for any sounds.
"Understood. The others are beginning their insertion. Do you see the buoy by dock 13?" Hawkeye asked.
Charon swept his gaze through the water, finding the dimly lit buoy bobbing in the turbulent waves. "Affirmative."
"Good. There should be a tango on the wooden dock near that buoy, standing next to a sailboat. Can you see him?"
Another short stint of searching and he found the man. "I got him. Tell me when to take the shot," Charon stated.
"Aspis is moving into position. Hold for now."
"Rog." Charon sighed, letting himself get comfortable while he waited. He eventually heard a click behind him, signaling the arrival of Reacher. He clicked back, slightly scooting to the side and making room for his partner to lay beside him and watch. The sectoid grumbled something about the rain, wiping some of the water from his helmet as he settled to right of the Reaper.
"We waiting on the others?" Reacher asked without emotion.
"Yup. Got a target on the dock by that buoy. See him?" Charon said.
Reacher tapped the side of his helmet a few times, likely cycling the visions and zooming in. But eventually he grunted in affirmation before saying, "Yeah. I see him. That where Aspis is entering from?"
"Most likely. Why else would I need to shoot him once she's in position?" Charon joked.
Reacher scoffed. "Just don't miss. What with this rain, wind, and all the other shit you need to account for, it ain't gonna be an easy shot. How far out is he?"
"About 150 meters. Shouldn't be too bad, honestly," Charon said smugly.
"Again. Don't miss, or all that shit talking will have to be held against you," Reacher taunted.
Charon smirked. "This conversation sounds eerily similar to the last time we played pool."
"Jackass," Reacher said plainly.
Then they fell to silence, watching their target as he huddled under a small light, shivering aggressively in the rain. His weapon was slung on his back, while his arms were wrapped around his form. Charon did not envy him. But he couldn't help but morbidly think that the man wouldn't be cold for much longer. He just needed to wait for the call. He kept focused on the mission, finding his mind slowly trying to drift to different thoughts, only for him to swiftly put the varying mental topics down and lock them away. He didn't need to be worrying about anything right now besides the mission.
"Charon, you still got the guy on the dock?" Hawkeye asked suddenly, making the Reaper slightly jump at the sudden noise.
"I got him. Just tell me when," he stated, lining up the shot and waiting.
"Aspis is ready. Take the shot when you've got it."
Charon took in a deep breath through his nose, blocking out the cold that had begun to slightly numb his fingers and make him shiver. He needed to be completely still. He let out half his breath through his mouth, pulling the trigger with the same steady, smooth motion he had done thousands of times before. The weapon kicked into his shoulder, all sound swallowed up to even the two operatives next to the weapon. Then the bullet connected with the man, staggering him as it passed through his head.
He began to fall to the side, a black shape swiftly rising onto the dock from the water. Charon watched in awe as Aspis moved behind him fluidly, laying on her back and tucking her coils above herself. The man fell onto her coils like they were a bed, slowly being moved over her and gently dropped into the water behind her, all while her hands were kept on her weapon, raised and scanning around her for any enemies who could see her. The body finished slowly sliding off her tail and into the water in such a way that he doubted there would be a sound even if there was no rain to cover her.
He couldn't help but find himself drawn to the movement of the viper. It was practiced, effective, and only showed her immense competence as an operative. He watched her rise from the ground, deftly rolling up and into the shadows and disappearing from view. "Wow," he whispered, trying to see if he could find her in the shadows, just to get one more glimpse of the black viper in action. He would be lying if he said he didn't find her movements to be hypnotic and strangely beautiful, almost like a dancer.
"The fuck?" Reacher said, drawing Charon out of his stupor and turning to the sectoid. He had expected something potentially dangerous, worried they might have been compromised in their position. Instead, the helmeted face of the psionic was turned to him and slightly leaning away from the sniper.
Charon then realized what had happened. He shook his head and groaned. "Dammit," he muttered, angrily cycling the bolt action on his rifle.
Reacher looked the human up and down briefly in confusion. "Were you just-"
He was shushed by the Reaper who had returned to looking down his scope at the deal site. "Not now, Reacher. We have an op to do," he said aggressively, more upset at himself for letting his thoughts slip around the being that was always reading emotions.
"Fine," Reacher hissed, settling back into his waiting position. "But we're having a nice chat after the op, got it?" he warned.
Charon nodded, not saying anything audibly, but knowing the sectoid could sense his annoyance. He was fairly certain it was rolling off him right now. The two continued to wait, eventually hearing Hawkeye jump back onto the radio.
"Charon, Reacher, you still have eyes on the site?" he asked.
"We got it," Reacher said, shuffling slightly.
"Good. Charon, keep holding. Reacher, move to the next part of the plan. Wisp is waiting for you up ahead at the rally point."
"On it," Reacher stated without emotion as he rose to a kneeling position and began to make his way back towards the stairs.
"Charon," Hawkeye continued. "Once the meeting is underway, I'll need you to keep an eye out for any hidden threats, alright? Whether it be the Sanguines or the Arbiters planning an ambush on the other, or if Carnegie decides he doesn't like the meeting happening in his territory."
"You got it. I'll keep my eyes peeled. Hopefully this rain doesn't get any worse. Visibility is already shit," he grumbled, his mood having plummeted somewhat.
"We'll see. But do your best. Hopefully you won't need to come down or do anything else. But make sure you're loaded for a fight just in case. Hawkeye out."
Charon pulled up a bullet from his belt, replacing the one he had shot earlier with startling dexterity despite the lack of feeling in his fingertips. He then returned to hunting for targets. Finding the warehouse where the meeting was to take place, he began scanning the immediate area, taking note of how many people were there in the vicinity. Their numbers were certainly startling. If he had to guess, it was easily close to, or more than, the recruiting event the Knights had run.
After taking note of enemy positions, he began to look at more distant areas, trying to find any hidden sniper nests like the one he was at. Almost immediately, he saw a sniper hiding on a far rooftop of some fishery, his attention directed down on the meeting site. He relayed the information to Hawkeye and noted the position. He kept hunting, leaving the man for now. Looking further away, in another cargo crane cabin, he could see another sniper.
Again, he noted and relayed the information to Hawkeye. But this time, he didn't leave the man, sighting in and readying himself for an even further shot. After a few seconds of napkin math in his head, he fired, the round striking true and sending his target tumbling back into the seat next to all the controls for the crane. He smirked, looking for more.
Several minutes later, and he had seen no other potential snipers hidden away, so he returned to the first one he found. With an intake of breath, he took the shot, easily killing the much closer man. Then he replaced the two spent bullets, returning his rifle to full capacity once more. "All the snipers I could find are down, Hawkeye. We should have kill box priority over the immediate area now."
"Understood." The man was silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "Look to the East. There should be some headlights coming towards the meeting spot. You got eyes?"
Charon turned from his scope, seeing far to his right in the distance was a convoy of vehicles. "I got 'em. I see four vehicles coming in. Is that the Arbiters?"
"Most likely. Keep your eyes up, Ferryman. Things are going to be kicking off soon." The radio once more fell silent.
Charon lowered his form down, taking a few calming breaths in preparation. He didn't know exactly when or how things were going to start, but he needed to be ready to help in any way he could. He couldn't help but find himself worrying for his team. While they were capable, this wasn't going to be as simple as the other ops. He thought of Aisha, swallowing a wad of spit that had collected in his mouth. Then he shook his head.
They were on a mission. She was Aspis, the combat medic who could take to the shadows as well as any Reaper and crush the life out of you. There was no Aisha, the soft spoken, kind hearted viper. That distinction needed to be made and kept, for both their sake. He exhaled heavily, returning focus back to the mission completely. Then he noticed something coming in from the water. Several dark shapes that he could only just barely make out. He swung his rifle towards them, zooming in and trying to figure out what they were. His eyes widened once he was able to identify the shapes.
"Hawkeye! Ambushers on boats coming from the channel! I repeat, ambushers are coming in from the channel on boats!" he almost shouted into his comms, trying to count how many potential enemies there could be.
"Charon, reposition, now! More are coming in from behind you and making their way to your position. I don't know if they're aware of you or just want to take your spot, but you need to move!" Hawkeye commanded.
"Moving it," Charon responded, getting up and roadie running down the length of the crane as fast as he could without accidentally hitting his head. He reached the walkway outside the cabin, making ready to descend when he heard heavy footfalls coming up the stairs below him. He cursed to himself, glancing around before deciding where to move.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder. working his way to the far side of the cabin and climbing up the small service ladder to the top of the box. Reaching his temporary hiding spot, he laid down, pulling out his pistol and knife while trying to get as flat as he could. The footsteps continued to rise up, three sets from what he could hear. They reached the cabin, one of them opening the door loudly and charging in.
"It's empty!" a man spoke, his deep rumbling voice betraying he was a muton. "You, stay here and hold this vantage point. You, with me. We're going to regroup with the others."
The other men both let out a "Yes, sir!" Then two sets of footsteps began to rush down the stairs once more. Charon waited until the footfalls faded, then slowly pulled himself to the edge of the cabin's roof and looked down. Below him, crouched by the railing with a large rifle mounted and aimed at the warehouse, was a sectoid. Charon slowly rose to a standing position, spinning his knife once in his hand and holstering his pistol as he readied for his attack.
With a faint grunt, he leapt off the roof, landing just behind the sectoid and piercing his knife through the top of the psionic's head in the same moment. The man let out a groan, most of his body already beginning to go limp. Charon grabbed and moved the sectoid's rifle to the ground with his other hand, preventing it from falling off the crane in case the rest of the sectoid's group were still below their position. He didn't want to be trapped at the top with enemies potentially below him.
Satisfied the sectoid was dead, Charon began to make his way to the stairs, an intense need to get out of the immediate area and regroup with his team. "This is Charon. I'm getting down from the crane. Unknown number of hostiles coming from my location and heading towards the meeting site. What's the plan, Hawkeye?"
There was silence during the walk down until he was almost to ground level. "Charon, start to make your way to the meeting site. Kill any who try and stop you. We need to secure that chemical weapon. No fighting has broken out yet, but any second now, this place is going to turn into a warzone. The others are going to need you. There's a large collection of shipping crates not far from the site. If you can get up there, you should be able to provide overwatch for the others."
"I'll be there, sir. Send me the location," Charon said, beginning to move towards the warehouse, pistol once more raised and arm braced with the other. He took a quick glance to his tac-pad, seeing the approximate location of the storage crates. He tucked himself down, darting forward with controlled speed. He didn't know where the ambushers were, but he couldn't just wait around to be found or leave his team without backup for too long.
The first group he ran into had their backs turned, moving in a tight formation the same direction he was. There were too many for him to fight, so he stalked behind them, keeping note of their weapons and numbers. But eventually he split off from the group, taking a different, more direct route to his new perch. The next group he would have walked into, had they not been as loud as they were, only barely being heard over the storm.
He pressed himself to the wall of a storage container, letting the group of four move past him without being noticed. This group, he noted, were much less armed and numbered than the last. He debated engaging them when he spotted another clutch of enemies grouping up with them, doubling their size. He cursed, darting into a different shadow and continuing on his hunt. He was growing more worried by the second. Just the groups he was seeing would put Bauk at a massive disadvantage. And there were likely at least several others on the far size of the warehouse from him that he hadn't seen.
Then he began to hear gunshots. They were faint, almost blending into the rain. But he could barely make out the distinct popping of rounds being fired. He felt his energy pick up, heat rushing into his body. He started to forgo complete stealth, focusing instead on getting to his team as quickly as he could. He rounded a corner, finding himself to the side of three enemies. The closest noticed him, letting out a loud, "What the fuck?"
Charon struck, stabbing his knife into the man's neck and pulling him in front of his body. He fired his pistol at the second, three rounds connecting with the chest of the human and dropping him. The third began to open fire, not hesitating about shooting his own teammate to try and hit the Reaper hiding behind. Charon braced, feeling the body he held in front of him as an improvised shield buck from the rounds striking.
The Reaper stuck just his arm around the body, firing to the approximate area of his assailant. He heard a pained, "Fuck!" after his fourth shot. Noticing his meat shield was not being attacked any longer, he tossed the body aside, pulling his knife free and aiming his pistol. The last, a muton, was holding his head where spurts of yellow blood were leaping from his cheek. Charon firing twice into the muton's forehead and dropping him as well.
Seeing his enemies were dealt with, he sprinted into the shadows, knowing his approximate position was compromised from the loud gunfire. He flicked his pistol slightly while pressing the release button, the mostly empty magazine falling into his hand. He replaced it with a new one, sliding the old one into a pouch on his waist. Reloaded and near his new perch, Charon could hear much more gunfire ringing out now. It was even more oppressive than the rain at this point, and it was only growing worse. Then his local comms began to come alive.
"-coming in from the West! Reacher, fall back to me and we'll try to get behind for a flank! We cannot stay here, or we'll be stuck between all three!"
"I'm moving! These fuckers are everywhere!"
Charon found the pile of containers he was looking for, holstering his pistol and knife as he sprinted at it. He kicked off the ground, clambering up the side and grasping the edge before pulling himself up with practiced ease. He repeated the action for the next one, finding himself much higher than he had expected. He laid himself flat, pulling up his Vektor rifle and sighting in. He could see several dark shapes moving around and inside the warehouse, bursts of light appearing from the barrels of dozens of firing weapons.
Then he saw someone familiar tearing through the inside of the building, a massive burst of light from their weapon lighting them up briefly. Reacher slid over a box, kneeling behind it as a stream of bullets chased after him. "I'm pinned! Hunter, get these assholes off me!" he shouted.
"I'm busy!" the hybrid grunted in exertion, the faint roar of a muton being picked up by his comms before it cut off.
"I'm repositioning, Reacher. Give me a few seconds," Wisp said, her voice still calm despite the chaos around them.
"I don't have a second!" Reacher roared, blindly firing his shotgun over his cover without aiming in a vain attempt to hit something.
Charon found the batch shooting at his squad mate, aiming at the closest one and firing, being more than close enough to simply center the reticle and pull the trigger. The man lurched backwards, his head jerking to the side with enough force Charon wondered if it snapped his neck. He cycled the bolt, picking the next closest target and killing him too. Then he cycled onto the last and fired, taking a third life.
"Charon! That you?" Reacher called out.
"I've got your back. Three down. Reloading, give me a second," he confirmed.
"Thank Christ," Reacher breathed out in slight relief.
The rest of the individuals firing at Reach had started to notice they were being killed, opting to start taking cover and hide. But on a balcony above them, Hunter and Wisp both appeared, aiming down and opening fire. "Reacher! Move!" Hunter called out after they had finished cutting down Reacher's assailants.
Charon finished his reload, watching the sectoid scramble from his cover and into a shadow hidden from his line of sight. Shortly after dealing with Reacher's attackers, Wisp turned into her swarm, making her way upwards out the skylight and onto the roof. Hunter followed but used his grappling hook after he had finished reloading his own weapon.
"Thanks for the assist, Charon," Hunter called out. "We need to pull out of here. Make your way to the evac point we had planned earlier. We'll meet you there. Watch your back. There's syndicate fighters all over."
"Rog. I'm on my way," he said, rising to a kneeling position and swapping his Vektor rifle for his pistol and knife once again. He slid off the container, taking the same route to get down, tumbling in a controlled roll when he reached the ground. Snapping his pistol around him after landing, he waited for a short second before darting towards evac. He could hear the fighting around him growing and fading in intensity at random intervals.
So loud was it, that he didn't hear or notice the muton until it had almost been completely on top of him. He leapt to his side, rolling away and to his feet. He rose his pistol to fire, being interrupted when he was charged into by the muton. He fell to his back, groaning slightly. He made to stand when one of the large hands of the alien grasped the front of his shirt, hefting him into the air easily. He pulled up his pistol, firing into the head of the muton before it could do anything further.
It dropped him, stumbling backwards a step. Charon landed on his rear, starting to once more ready his pistol to fire again. But the muton, somehow, seemed completely unphased at the head shot and charged forward. One hand slapped the pistol from his hand, the other wrapped around the Reaper's throat and lifted him up. This time, he slammed the human into the wall of one of the shipping containers, a metallic clang ringing out as Charon's back collided with the metal.
Charon rose his knife, still having kept it in his grasp and swung it. He couldn't reach the muton's neck or face, his arms being far shorter than his attackers. So instead, he dug the blade into the softer inside of the muton's elbow, twisting it once it was deep in. But instead of dropping him, the muton's grip only tightened, cutting off Charon's ability to breathe in. He pulled out the knife, eventually just stabbing the appendage over and over in an attempt to free himself.
But nothing was getting the behemoth to drop him. As his energy began to fade, he finally noticed something strange about the muton. It's eyes were glossed over, the normally yellow orbs that most had were instead a pale blue. Charon couldn't dwell on it further as his vision began to darken at the corners. He couldn't call for help, couldn't fight. His legs began to spasm slightly as they dangled in the air uselessly. He dropped his knife to the ground, unable to hear the clattering of metal as his quickening heartbeat began to pound through his skull louder and louder.
"Am I going to die?"
But then the pressure was released, the muton's head almost popping as a round pierced it. Both dropped, Charon landing on his side, coughing and clawing at the ground while attempting to breathe in through the pain his throat felt at even the slightest flex. He felt someone move near him, his instinct to fight trying to stop him from pathetically floundering around. He found his knife, preparing to swing at the newcomer. But he stopped when they spoke.
"Charon! Are you ok? Can you stand?"
"A-Aspis," his voice was raspy, sending him into another fit of coughing.
"Don't talk. I should not have asked. We need to go. Let me help you," she said quickly, worry heavy in her voice.
She began to help him to his feet, confused when he began to protest. Then he pointed, seeing his pistol laying on the ground a short distance from them. Aspis nodded, her helmet parting slightly as her tongue shot out to grasp the weapon. Pulling it back, she handed it to him, the Reaper slowly becoming more stable on his feet. She slithered under his right arm, bracing him on herself while they began to move forward. The duo slowly picked up speed as they went until eventually Charon separated from her.
"Fine," he croaked out. "Thanks." Then he motioned them on, beginning to run forward far quicker while the viper stayed incredibly close to him. Slowly, the sounds of gunfire faded as the rain began to overtake their hearing again.
"Charon, Aspis, are you both almost to evac?" Hawkeye asked.
"Affirmative, sir. We're almost there. Have the others made it?" Aspis said, continually looking to the Reaper who was sprinting beside her.
"They have. Waiting on you, and then you can all get the hell out of there. Keep moving."
They rounded a corner, seeing the dark form of the civilian truck they had stored for the mission. As soon as they started to draw closer, the headlights turned on, lighting up the locked gate to leave the docks. Reacher opened the back door with his psionics for them, peeking his head out the passenger window.
"Hurry! Let's get the fuck out of here!" Reacher called to them.
They both dashed to the open door, Aspis moving far ahead of Charon and leaping in first. He watched as her body tucked up mid jump and disappeared into the shadows of the vehicle. Charon, following suit, more or less dove into the back, bringing up his legs and crashing into someone, not bothering with apologizing at that moment. Two arms then carefully enveloped his body, pulling him in further while something darted past his head. He turned, seeing a long, thin appendage wrapped around the door handle that then pulled the door shut. The appendage raced back, Charon following it and seeing it was Aspis' tongue. And she was the one currently with her arms around him.
"They're in! Wisp, step on it!"
"Yes, Hunter." Then the vehicle lurched, the tires struggling to find traction on the wet surface briefly before they began to move forward. "Brace yourselves," Wisp warned.
Aspis' arms around Charon tightened, pulling him to be more flush against her as the truck charged the locked gate. They hit the metal, their vehicle slowing somewhat and jerking them all forward slightly. Charon could hear Reacher from the front seat let out a curse. The truck began to speed back up, moving to a road and swiftly taking them from the combat that was likely still raging behind them.
"Is everyone ok?" Hunter asked from the driver's seat, turning completely around, not bothering with looking forward at the road.
Wisp materialized part of her body near the center console between Hunter and Reacher, giving a slight nod. "I am unharmed, sir."
Reacher waved a hand. "Got some scrapes and bruises, but I'm alright. Gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning," he complained.
Hunter turned to the last two, seeing Aspis was ignoring him, and Charon was too busy trying to somewhat resist the viper as she attempted to remove his helmet. She had managed to lower his hood, looking over the helmet for how she could unfasten it and growing somewhat frustrated whenever he would smack her hands away.
"Fine," he got out weakly.
"Charon, what happened?" Hunter asked sternly.
"Don't speak," Aspis said to Charon, leaving messing with his helmet to begin removing her own. "He got ambushed by a muton that almost crushed his windpipe. He'll have bruising for sure and shouldn't be talking for at least two days to allow himself some rest. If I hadn't found him when I did-" she trailed off with sadness. She tossed her helmet down to the floor of the vehicle. "Now stop fussing and let me begin tending to it. Unless you wish to have your injury worsen?" she said with a somewhat threatening tone.
Charon groaned, a scratchy, pained sound coming from under his mask as he began to unfasten it.
"Don't do that either," Aspis warned.
Charon shook his head, finishing with the last clasp and removing his mask. It had barely left his face when Aspis began to tug down the collar of his shirt and coat, drawing her face close to his neck. He could feel her tongue gently dance over his skin and the sharp exhales from her nose. He couldn't help but shudder at the feeling. Then she drew back, lowering her body down and digging under Reacher's seat. Shortly after, she rose back up with her medical bag, digging in and pulling out an ice pack. She shook the small item, nodding to herself before closing in on Charon once more.
She made to place it to his neck when her hand was stopped by the human. She paused, looking into his face to see his eyes were wide and staring right at her. She blinked a few times, calming down and then nodding to him. She offered the pack to him, moving away and settling into her seat more normally. Charon sighed, placing the pack to his neck and cringing. He was already cold, and this was definitely not going to help.
He exhaled heavily, falling back into his seat while leaning against the headrest. He closed his eyes, his limbs becoming so heavy it became difficult to hold the ice pack to his neck. But he held it there, not wanting the alternative of the viper doing it for him. He didn't need that right now. Especially not with Reacher in the car. Seeming to know he was being thought about, the sectoid shuffled loudly in his seat, grumbling angrily.
"That shit did not go well," Reacher said. "Didn't even get the fucking chemical."
Hunter shook his head. "No. We did not."
They car dropped into a heavy silence, with all the operatives passing the ride their own way. Charon would cycle between closing his eyes, feeling either a step away from falling asleep, or being wide awake, glancing around and looking for any sign that something was happening around him. He had pulled his hood back up, mask resting in his lap and held gently by his free hand.
Aspis mostly watched the human, trying to keep herself from being too obvious in her observations. Several times when he would close his eyes, she would see the ice pack bob slightly and begin to drop down, almost drawing her in to take it and hold it for him. But then he would return to normal, and she would pretend she had not been moving closer to him should the need arise.
Hunter watched the road, almost completely unmoving, none except Reacher would be able to tell what he was feeling. His bullpup rifle was still in his lap, with a firm grasp on it. But Reacher was the only one who could see the hybrid tapping an index finger on the side of the weapon. The older warrior hid his feelings remarkably well, but even he had some chinks in his armor.
Wisp remained unformed, keeping herself from taking up any room in the car, instead just driving. Occasionally, a cluster of her swarm would form for a few seconds, brushing past one of the team without them knowing as she checked up on them. She was more focused on her team than the idea that they had not managed to complete their mission how they had planned. She just wanted to get them home safely. Nothing else took priority to her.
And then Reacher watched everyone. He could feel the disappointment from them all. To varying degrees. Hunter's was towards himself and the syndicates. While he couldn't tell exact thoughts without breaching his privacy, he knew they weren't the nicest. Wisp was as unreadable to him as always. But she was unusually silent, so not a good sign to the sectoid. Charon's emotions were barely there, the Reaper teetering on the edge of exhaustion and sleep. When he could read something, it didn't stay for very long before fading out, not leaving him with enough time to identify what the emotion was.
As for Aspis, she was the one he mostly focused on. She had every emotion directed towards Charon in some capacity. Worry. Sadness. Pain. And something he was having a hard time placing. Something that was constantly flowing just behind the others. Sometimes he could almost feel it, but then it was buried again. He could read her mind, and she would never know. But he fought off that temptation. After all, he had a good idea what was going on in her mind based on his earlier interaction with the person she was so focused on.
"Bauk, we have arrived," Wisp said softly. The team slowly roused themselves as their vehicle pulled into its spot. Parking the truck, they all began to slowly get out, Andal finally removing his helmet and slinging his rifle on his back. Abe just began walking to the op room, teeth bared in a scowl. Wisp formed next to the hybrid, following next to him closely and exchanging faint words that went unheard to the rest of the team.
Jonathan slowly lowered himself from the large truck, dropping the ice pack from his neck long enough to help him get to the ground without losing his balance. Once planted, he returned the cool plastic to his neck and began to walk after the others. He felt a hand rest on his back, not doing anything besides just being there. He looked to his left, seeing Aisha was slithering beside him. She did not look at him, but her gaze was lowered to the ground. She was bothered, that much he could tell from her expression. He looked away from her, just walking slowly into the op room.
The team was greeted by Hawkeye, the man giving them a nod as they settled into their chairs. He remained standing, looking them over briefly, his watchful gaze lingering slightly longer on Jonathan before moving on. Once his brief assessment was over, he sighed, falling into his chair.
"I'm glad you're all back in one piece," he began. "We had planned for Carnegie to show up. But not with numbers like that. The fact that you all even made it out alive is nothing short of a miracle."
"We didn't get the chemical," Abe hissed, clenching his fists. "And now that shit could be anywhere."
"Do we know who grabbed it once the chaos started?" Hawkeye asked.
Andal shook his head. "No. We don't. It could have been recollected by the Sanguines, taken by the Arbiters, or maybe it has been seized by Carnegie's men."
Hawkeye nodded. "Alright. Then we need to find out who took it. And sooner rather than later. I doubt Carnegie would use it on civilians. If the Sanguines got it, they may try to deal with the Arbiters again. And if the Arbiters got their hands on it..." he trailed off.
"A lot of people are gonna get hurt," Abe grumbled.
"Yes. They would."
"Sir, if I may?" Wisp stated, standing from her chair.
Hawkeye looked to her for a moment, confusion dancing across his face for only a brief moment. "Go ahead, Wisp."
"I believe I have discovered what the chemical weapon is in nature," she said.
"Like, what they made it out of?" Abe asked.
"No. But what it does."
"How did you manage that?" Andal asked.
Wisp swiped the holo-table, pulling up footage from earlier. It was from her perspective, the Spectre sneaking through the firefight. Then, far in front of her was a canister letting off a glowing blue shimmer. There were several individuals fighting around it, most of them being mutons. But the interesting part was that they were all fighting savagely, like rabid animals. One of them noticed Wisp, roaring a challenge and charging her without any weapons. She turned, making her way away as she fired, each round only serving to upset the muton as it ignored the damage and barreled towards her faster.
Then Jonathan noticed something. The muton in the footage had the same blue eyes as the one that had grabbed him. He pointed at it, trying to keep himself from speaking. The others noticed, the video being paused. He stood, vaguely aware of Aisha's hand finally being removed from his back. He pointed at the eyes of the muton. Then he shook his head, frustrated he couldn't talk without descending into a fit of coughing.
Wisp pulled up a keyboard in front of him, the Reaper giving her a thankful look. He dropped the ice pack, placing it on his chair momentarily and beginning to type swiftly with both hands.
"The muton that attacked me had the same hazy eyes. He was basically numb to everything I did to him. I even shot him in the face and he kept coming. Stabbed his arm where the joints are to get him to drop me. Still didn't work. If Aisha hadn't pulped his skull, I'd probably be dead."
He lowered back down into his seat, returning the ice to his neck when Aisha offered it to him. He gave her a faint smile.
Wisp continued the video, showing her dancing around the muton as it tried to swipe her form out of the air. "That would add up, Jonathan. The chemical weapon is a sort of adrenal boost. But far more dangerous than any seen in most data bases. From what I have gathered, the user loses all sense of self, becoming nothing more than pure instinct and rage. Their pain receptors are dampened, and all manner of self-preservation is completely suppressed."
"Which would explain why the one attacking Jonathan did not stop until I had shot him. Without a brain, they cannot function." Aisha narrowed her eyes, Jonathan being close enough to see some of the scales on her neck were beginning to bristle slightly, something he had never seem them do before.
"Precisely, Aisha. Unfortunately, without further examination of the chemical itself, or observations towards the individual afflicted by it, I cannot tell much more about the weapon," Wisp concluded.
"So we don't know how long the effects last, if it works for every species, how to counteract it, or how much area it can cover if released in full. And someone has their hands on it," Andal said gravely.
The team was silent for a short while until Hawkeye pulled out his phone. "I need to let Director Kelly and Captain Burkheart know about this. If there's a chemical weapon somewhere in 79 and potentially waiting to be released, we need all eyes and ears looking for it as soon as possible. I think we've covered just about everything we need to for tonight. Go home, get some rest." He directed his gaze to Jonathan. "Unless something comes up, stay home for a few days and just worry about recovering. I've been hit by muton's enough to know it's going to feel ten times worse tomorrow, Jon."
With that, the man began to move to his office, lifting his phone to his ear and sighing. The rest of the team was left sitting around the table, looking at the holo-screen with the map of the docks still pulled up in front of them. Abe was the first to stand, making no noise and shuffling to the locker room with his hands dangling by his side. Andal followed after the sectoid shortly after, giving Jonathan a soft pat on the shoulder and a small smile.
Wisp turned to the Reaper, bowing her head slightly. "Jonathan, would you like me to clean your coat again today? Unless you would rather head home, considering it is very late."
He shook his head, making his way to his feet. He then pointed over his shoulder with a thumb at the exit. His movements were sluggish, showing just how tired he was.
"Very well. Please get home safely, and I shall see you in a few days. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to message me." She bowed once more, then turned and walked towards the offices, seeming more robotic than normal. Jonathan assumed she was just as bothered by how the evening turned out as he was.
He turned to Aisha, offering her back the ice pack. She took it wordlessly, watching as he moved to the locker room. He shucked off his kit, not bothering to organize it more cleanly, more concerned with just getting home as soon as he could. Aisha had entered shortly after him, placing her own gear away and entering one of the shower stalls, closing the door behind her after giving a long look to the tired human. He tried to give her a smile, only wincing when it somewhat hurt.
Then he turned, leaving the room and making his way to the elevator with his hands in his pockets. He walked out the front door, into the still raging storm and frowned. He didn't have an umbrella, and despite being moderately rain proof, his coat had only kept his under shirt from being soaked for the beginning of the op. But now, he was cold, wet, tired, and still had to make his way home in the storm.
Then he remembered that the trams had finished their routes for the night, so he would have to order a taxi instead. He sat himself down on a slab of concrete, not even noticing that it was wet from the rain. He was already soaked. He really didn't care. He ordered the taxi through the website, not wanting to try and talk to a customer support agent. Aisha would kill him if he tried talking. Once finished, he glumly sat, droplets of rain falling from the brim of his hood and in front of his face. He watched some for a bit, but eventually just looked past and into the slightly flooded road.
He wasn't sure how long he sat before the rain suddenly stopped pelting him. He looked up, seeing something dark above his head. An umbrella. A large one. He looked to his right, seeing Aisha was patiently standing beside him. She was looking down at him with her soft blue eyes, worry painted on her face. She gently lowered herself next to him, shivering when her tail made contact with the cold concrete.
"You know you don't have to wait out here in the rain, Jon. Aren't you cold?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the loud pattering as the water contacted her umbrella.
He just shrugged. Breathing out softly. He doubted she heard it, but it got the point across. To himself at least.
She hummed, readjusting herself to get more comfortable but saying nothing to him. But they did not stay there long before a small taxi pulled up, its headlights brightening and dimming quickly a few times to get their attention. Both rose, the viper holding the umbrella above them both as they lazily moved to the yellow vehicle. Aisha opened the door for Jonathan, letting him in first and covering him the entire time, even going so far as to briefly leave herself exposed while he clumsily crawled into the back.
He started to settle into the seat when he noticed she had closed his door for him and was moving around to the other side of the cab. She opened the other door, closing her umbrella and then swiftly diving into the back of the cab. She pulled her long tail up, piling it up underneath her and keeping it away from his side, both already feeling cramped in the smaller car. Jonathan merely watched her with confusion. She didn't look at him until well after the driver had started moving the car into the almost completely empty street.
"Gonna have to take a longer route to get to your destination. Some of the roads are flooded and blocked off," the driver said casually, sounding almost as tired as them.
"Ok. Thank you," Aisha said, her gaze briefly moving to the driver and then over to Jonathan. She met his confused look with a blank one. "What?" she asked.
He just gestured to her with a hand, trying not to touch her despite their incredibly close proximity, and then letting it fall back into his lap afterwards.
"You made sure I got home safely. Let me do the same," she said warmly, her serpentine face stretching into a smile.
He looked into her eyes for a few moments before eventually nodding to her.
"Although," she began awkwardly. "I am sorry about just joining you. After all, there are bigger cabs designed for aliens. We don't exactly have much room, do we?"
He shrugged, slightly rustling his coat against her own heavy-duty jacket. He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. And it seemed to work, her more rigid form loosening up as she raised her head up more, almost pressing it to the roof of the cab.
Jonathan turned from her, looking to the right and out the window, watching the rain race down the glass while the unrelenting sounds of the storm battered into the small car, but never making it in. He leaned against the headrest, once more struggling to keep himself awake. He tried to fight away the lethargic feeling infecting his body, not wanting to doze off in the back of some cab. But he must have been very obviously losing the fight because Aisha placed a hand on his forearm. It was only faintly felt, just enough to reassure him that she was there.
"I'll wake you when we get there. Rest," she whispered, having moved closer to his ear without him noticing. He spun around to her, seeing her face just barely a few inches from his own. He looked into her blue eyes, finding his focus jumping from left, to right, and back to the left again. But sleep kept calling, so he eventually nodded to her. It didn't take him long to fall asleep once he let his head fall back to headrest.
When Jonathan awoke, he didn't move at first, feeling far too sluggish still to want to. The taxi was still moving, albeit somewhat slowly. The rain still remained, letting out deep pitter patters on the roof. But something was different. And slow rising and falling motion that moved his head up and down. He didn't notice it at first, merely slumped slightly to the side and remaining in the foggy state between being awake and asleep.
But slowly he began to take in more of what was around him and his position. That was when he realized he was leaning to the left, not backwards like he had been when he fell asleep. His eyes shot open, his heart rate jumping slightly as he realized what he was leaned up against. Aisha was almost completely still, her only movement was her long inhales and equally long exhales. Her shoulders rising and falling, bringing his head up and down with them. It was rhythmic, calming. It tempted him to close his eyes again and go back to sleep.
But he couldn't, not knowing that he was up against the beautiful woman he had been thinking about for the past several days. She had found a way to invade his thoughts at every turn, constantly wriggling her way into everything. And while it could be rather infuriating when he needed to genuinely focus on something else, he had slowly grown accustomed to thinking about her. It was befuddling to him, how he could feel like this towards her. But after so many weeks of being around her, on and off the field, during work and after work, it just felt natural.
He looked down, his face hidden from her under his hood as he pretended to be asleep. Her hand was still on his forearm, he noticed. It was nice. Being close to her, he decided finally. He just hoped the ride would continue for a while longer. As childish as that might have made him. So he stayed there, silently enjoying how close he was to his viper teammate. But it eventually ended when the taxi slowed down.
"Alright, we're here," the driver called out. "Careful, it's wet out there," he joked.
Aisha nodded to the driver, raising her hand from Jonathan's forearm to his shoulder and beginning to shake him awake, completely unaware that he had been for the past several minutes. He slowly rose up, taking in a deep breath and sighing. He turned, looking up at her and making eye contact. They just looked at each other for a while until the taxi driver cleared his throat.
"Hey, today please? I'm almost off." They both looked at him, Jonathan quickly pulling out his phone and paying for the fare. The two then exited the cab, Aisha once more opening her umbrella and quickly making her way to his side. She walked him up the stairs to his apartment, the Reaper watching how she climbed the stairs by almost lifting her coils and body up to plant herself onto the next step. Even more impressive was her ability to keep pace with his own walking. He didn't comment, but gave a goofy thumbs up instead.
He unlocked the door, pushing it open slightly but not entering. He spun to face Aisha, his silence not due to his injured throat, but because he didn't know what to do next. He moved his hands slightly to the side, his mind catching and stopping quickly whenever he began to try to think of something. But eventually she spoke, nodding to him with a smile.
"I should let you rest now, Jon. It is late, and I do not wish to take up any more of your time. I shall see you once you get better." She began to leave when he grabbed her arm suddenly, stopping her movement. She directed her wide eyes to his hand, her form slightly tensed up. He released her, growling slightly to himself and then coughing to the side weakly. He held up a hand, the other fishing for his phone.
"It's really late. I have a spare bedroom if you wanted to stay here tonight and then head home tomorrow," he typed, showing her the message when it was finished.
She read it, her tongue darting in and out repeatedly as she went over the message. "I-I think I should be fine. It's not as though I plan on walking. I can take the same taxi that-" she cut off, turning and seeing that the cab was gone, leaving only an empty street filled with rain and faint light from the lamp posts.
Jonathan chuckled, typing another message quickly. "The bed has a heated blanket. If you wanted to use it," he wrote.
Aisha eventually giggled. "I see." She paused, inhaling deeply before nodding. "Very well. If you aren't opposed to me being here. I hate to impose."
"Not imposing if I offered. I am more than happy to have you," he typed. He gestured to the open doorway, letting her in first. She closed her umbrella, shaking out the water a few times to get most of it off and then entered. Slithering into the darkness, she wasn't much impaired without light, her kind naturally able to see somewhat well in the darkness. She squinted when Jonathan turned on the lights, stepping past her and taking her umbrella. He placed it near the doorway, where he had also removed his boots and set on a small mat.
He began to walk further into his home, flicking on more lights as he went. He motioned her to follow him, surprising her with how chipper and energetic he was. She choked it up to him being excited to be home and able to rest soon. All she needed to do was get out of his way and let him. She followed after, head slightly lowering in shame at the thought that even when she was supposed to be helping him, he was still trying to look out for her.
Leading her down the single hallway, he opened a door on the right side, flipping on the light within and pointing before moving on. She glanced in, seeing a moderately sized bedroom with a surprisingly large bed inside and tucked against the far wall. She made to enter when she heard another door open near her. Looking almost behind her, Jonathan had opened another door, motioning to that as well. She glanced in, seeing the bathroom was located behind that door. She nodded to him.
He finished with the door at the end of the hall, the master bedroom being only just slightly larger than the one in the hallway. She surmised this was his room. It was relatively undecorated, a few small knickknacks scattered about. A poster of a band she did not recognize here, a picture frame of some scenery there. But the one thing she did see that drew her attention was a picture frame on the wall, dark wood bordering the photo within.
She found herself moving closer to it, unaware that Jonathan was watching her with a small grin. She reached the photo, examining it closer. Shown was Jonathan, who she recognized immediately despite him looking younger. He was wearing his Reaper jacket as always, but the hood was down and he was smiling widely, his teeth on display more than she had ever seen before. His hair was only just slightly longer than she was used to seeing, more unkempt and shaggy rather than long, but it was certainly different from how she knew him to have his hair now.
But next to him was a woman who was older, small wrinkles formed on her forehead as well as similar dimples to Jonathan, but with more crinkles forming pathways off than his. She also wore a Reaper jacket, but hers was more weathered, signs of age and numerous repairs were evident. Her hair was the same shade of dark brown as his, but the interesting part was that hers was long, down to her shoulders, and very curly. Much like Jonathan, the woman's smile was large, her eyes bright and almost glowing. He had an arm around her shoulders, the other giving a thumbs up to the camera.
She became aware of Jonathan having walked next to her, also looking at the picture with fondness in his eyes. "Is that your mother?" she asked, already fairly certain of the answer.
He nodded.
"She looks so happy. Was this after you became a Reaper?"
He nodded again and pointed to the jacket in the picture. She moved closer, seeing that the clothing article in the photo was in much better shape than the one he was currently wearing. But the same one, nonetheless.
"She seems very nice. I'm sure you're looking forward to your visit?" she asked while glancing away from the photo and to the Reaper.
He nodded, then gave a small shrug and snort. "I'm looking forward to it. I just hope she doesn't try to get too into my business," his phone read when he held it up.
The viper gave her own nod to him. "Well, if you don't wish to worry her, I hope you have a plan for your neck. You should be more than capable of speaking if she is getting here in a few days. But the bruising is going to last at least a week. And a week is generous. I wouldn't be surprised if it lasted much longer," she advised.
His expression immediately fell, the viper giggling at him. "I didn't even think about that. I might have to buy a turtleneck. Or a scarf," he typed.
"I think you would look quite dashing with either option," she said without thinking. Only when Jonathan shuffled uncomfortably and licked his lips did she realize what had tumbled from her mouth. She turned from him, making her way out of his room, another thing she hadn't thought about until now. She had just entered his room without asking for his permission and started looking at his things. She swiftly darted into the room she would be staying in, closing the door behind her and dropping her head into her hands. He almost let out a groan but held it in, not wanting him to hear that on top of everything else she had already done.
She stood there, just on the other side of the door until her head cooled and her tail didn't feel like it was being jolted by electricity. Quietly, she moved towards the bed and began to place the items in her pockets onto the nightstand. She shook her head in annoyance, the tip of her tail flicking aggressively. She needed to control herself. She was getting reckless, acting without thinking. She had been trained to always be in control, to focus, plan, and attack without any doubts or foolish mishaps. And while she was not perfect, she had been making far too many mistakes the past several days, and it was beginning to bother her.
Even tonight she had let her emotions get the better of her several times. She had almost never let go of him, except in the truck when he gave a terrified look at her close proximity. She had been about to hold the ice pack to his neck for him, completely forgetting that he was more than capable. He was a skilled operator, same as her. Even a hatchling could hold an ice pack where they needed to, and she had been treating him like an infant. And it had only gotten worse.
The main example she kept thinking of had been in the cab. He had dozed off easily, something that surprised her given that she had taken his arm and he didn't seem bothered by it. Likely just due to the tight quarters of the vehicle, or that he was too tired to care. But after he had fallen asleep, she couldn't help but notice that his head had been bouncing somewhat uncomfortably whenever the cab started or stopped. Which was a lot. So, without thinking, she had simply tugged on his arm slightly and guided his head to her shoulder.
And no excuse she made about how she was just looking out for a teammate could cover the real reason why she did it. She was infatuated with the human. Adored him even, if she was forced to admit it. She constantly thought of him. He warmed her chest, caused her to grow excited, anxious, and happy all at once. And he didn't even seem to try to make her feel so. He was just being himself, and she had found herself smitten with him.
So when she had run into him during the op tonight, dangling like a puppet with most its strings cut, she had panicked. If she had been a moment later then he might have been killed. Her gut twisted and turned at the torturous thought. And she hated herself for feeling the way she did about him. Because she knew it was impossible for him to ever feel the same way. She knew this. Was more than aware of his past. And yet she seemed content to self-destruct with her attempts to grow closer to him. And whenever he agreed to spend time with her, she could only tell herself that it was because he felt bad for her.
He viewed her as a friend, as he had told her many times before, but there was nothing beyond that. There couldn't be. But she kept tempting fate, over and over again. And her comment about him looking dashing? Completely true. She believed he would. But it was something that could easily be taken the wrong way. Only further exacerbated by the fact that she had run away after saying it. If this kept up, he was certain to find out she was pining for him. She had almost worried he would have found out when she had asked him to go out to explore the city with her a few days ago. Had it been anyone else asking him something like that, she was certain he would have thought they were asking him out.
But he didn't think that. At least, he didn't appear to. And it didn't help her keep her thoughts clear of him when he had done what she had least expected.
He agreed.
He had agreed to her offer. The only stipulation was that he wanted to wait till after his mother had finished visiting. A price she would have paid tenfold if need be. During ADVENT, she didn't have free thought to form such emotions. Afterwards, she was too busy wallowing in her self-loathing and hiding away in sterile rooms stitching people up to ever let such thoughts blossom into anything. She had been fractured then. And even until recently she hadn't been much interested in the prospect. But slowly, the idea continued to slip in, infecting her mind.
She almost wanted to blame Andal, between his comment at the bar the other night saying that sometimes there was no good time for something, and that the opportunity needed to be taken, as well as their many long conversations during stakeouts in the past. She wasn't sure if the hybrid knew her true feelings towards the Reaper they discussed so often, but she doubted he was completely ignorant either. He had likely asked Jonathan about his relationship status at the bar because she was there herself. She had expressed, on more than one occasion, her curiosity about the human's more personal life, whether he had anyone other than his mother he was close to. And Andal had simply asked him for her.
She almost loathed the Skirmisher, but also silently thanked him for alleviating many of the hurdles that had held her back from allowing more interest in the human. She sighed, moving onto the bed after pulling back the covers and slipping her body underneath. She had tried looking for the controls for the heated blanket, but after a short search which proved fruitless, she gave up. She could have asked Jonathan for help, but she felt she had caused him enough trouble already just by staying here. She would be more than fine, she told herself.
Laying herself onto her side, she huffed, trying to clear her thoughts of the human who was sleeping just on the other side of a wall from her. She wondered if he slept in his Reaper coat or wore something else. She tossed slightly, crinkling up her face when the thought of him in his workout clothes flashed in her mind. He was nowhere near as large and well-built as some humans, or nearly as intimidatingly large as someone like Andal, but fit in a different way that she much preferred. He was toned, his arms showing muscle definition, but the thing that truly drew her in was how lithe he was.
He was thinner, but still strong and with incredible dexterity when he snuck around in the shadows or worked out. Andal and Abe lifted weights and could throw their sparring partners around easily, but she watched Jonathan when he would do his workouts. He could do pullups easily, his shoulders flexing as she could easily watch without him noticing, his back always being to her when he was doing so. She cursed his shirt, finding it to still be too baggy. She had initially thought a tighter shirt would be better, but also found a different temptation to him when she had first seen him without his jacket and working out the first time.
His tattoos. She had never seen any before, even with all her work in the medical field, she hadn't seen one. Knew of them, yes. But to actually see one in person was something new for her. And to then meet someone who had seemingly so many was startling. Doubly so because she found them somewhat attractive. Maybe it was just for him, but she wasn't entirely sure. But the thought that under his body was much more than just what she knew from the diagrams she had studied for her medical license teased her in a way she never knew possible. She wondered what other ones he had underneath that were just waiting to be seen. He had described the one on his back with some regret, but she still wished to see it with her own eyes.
She groaned in aggravation, flipping over to her other and clenching her eyes shut. She would not think about her co-worker in that way, she resolved. She found it difficult to believe herself, especially given she had had this conversation with herself before and it hadn't panned out those times either. So instead she finally gave herself a new resolution. She would be more honest with him once his visit with his mother was over. She was steadily growing tired of dancing around like a fool. And it was no one's fault but her own. They were both adults. If nothing came of it, then she would not let it affect her work with him. There were people who needed them, and she wasn't going to let any petty drama keep them from helping folks.
But what if something does come of it, she found her mind asking over and over. She would cross that bridge if she came there, she finally decided, even if she doubted that was a conclusion that would happen. Much as she would like things to turn out that way. But that was something that would be resolved many days from now. Right now, she needed to rest, and laying in the bed coiled up was finally allowing her to feel tired for the first time in several hours. She would wake up tomorrow morning, leave, go about her day and take the time to rest and continue to do what needed to be done. She was certain that she could wake up early enough that she would miss Jonathan, not that she necessarily wanted to, but after her embarrassing stint, she would much rather prefer taking some time away from him to ensure she did not slip up again.
Closing her eyes, the viper began to drift off, finding her thoughts to be of the human, and wondering, idly, if he would be soft and warm to fall asleep against.