7 Steps from Humanity
Part Two: The Pack
Chapter 3
Scott had been having a nice breakfast; well, if one ignored the fact that Flynn was cooking. Flynn could make an amazing drink, but when he cooked, things got interesting. But overall, things had been going alright before K had entered.
K had that look. That I was right, you were wrong, bow down and worship my brilliance look.
…Okay, so maybe he was over-exaggerating that last part, but still. K had this smug, superior look when a theory of hers proved correct, especially when it was on a subject that had left the rest of them stumped. Scott kind of hated that look; it made him feel like an idiot and he got that enough from the twins.
"Yes?" he asked when she stopped next to him in the kitchen.
"I was right." She told him smugly.
Of course you were, he thought to himself. "About what?"
"Grover."
Flynn paused where he was working at the stove and looked at K over his shoulder. "Ye know wha' the lad is? Tha's good, maybe the twins will calm down."
K's smile grew. "He's a half-breed."
"I thought that was a myth!" Summer said from next to him. Scott had to admit, he was a little skeptic himself. Half-breeds were a genetic phenomena that no one had quite been able to explain. It occurred by accident, some fluke mutation in the DNA, so that when the bloodlines finished settling, two primary bloodlines emerged, instead of a primary and secondary. Half-breed was a bad term for it, really, since Half-breeds weren't half anything. They were two different races at the same time, possessing the ability to shift between them with a thought, easily and harmlessly.
"It's rare, but it's not unheard of." K corrected. "There are documented cases. One of the British Prime Ministers was a Half-Breed; a Fae and Lord of the Woods mix."
"But I thought," Scott said, holding up a hand to get K's attention. "I thought Half-Breeds were two different races with the ability to change between them at will. The two bloodlines don't mix; they're separate. The psychic scent should show that. I don't get where a fuzzy psychic scent comes in."
"That's true, except, by the time Half-Breeds hit puberty they should be able to achieve an in-between state, halfway between one race and the other. It could cause that fuzziness you're sensing because they technically aren't any race at all. You've probably never heard of such a thing before because it doesn't serve any true purpose; it's a control exercise."
"Except Grover's using it to hide what he is." Scott said, and slumped in his seat. K nodded.
"The guy feels like demon kind." Summer said.
"More than likely that's because both of his races are demon kind. The feel of it would permeate no matter what."
Scott rubbed his eyes. "What about Kane's sister? The Siren?" he asked. He really didn't like the way K's expression immediately dropped. K's woodland eyes flickered away. "It's bad, isn't it?" he asked, grimacing.
K opened her mouth to say something then paused. Then, she sighed heavily and looked at him with dark eyes as she solemnly informed him. "There are no registered Sirens within Corinth or any of the safe cities we have managed to contact this past year."
Which was just the kind way of saying Sirens were on the extinct list.
"He's gonna run now." Scott said with disappointment.
"Why?" Flynn asked, frowning at him. One hand was still holding the spatula, which was dripping batter onto the floor.
"What do you mean why? His sister could be-"
"No, no." Flynn interrupted, shaking his head. He paused when the motion translated down his arm and a bit of batter splashed against his hand. He turned back to the stove even as he continued to talk to Scott. "Why do we wan' 'em to stay? When did tha' happen?"
Scott hesitated then rubbed the back of his head. "Well, actually I wanted to talk to you all about it once I found out about the sister."
There was a sudden shift from the corner of his eye and when he turned to look, the twins were standing just over Summer's shoulder. "Oh, this should be good." Gem said, wide grin on his face.
Summer's shoulders jumped in surprise, woodland eyes wide as she spun to face the twins. "I thought we agreed you'd never do that when it was just the team." Summer said, voice tight with surprise and irritation.
The twins' smiles got airy. "You agreed to that, yes," Gemma said.
"We didn't. We just went with it." Gem chirped.
Flynn snorted in amusement and waved the twins over. Gem immediately shuffled over, peering over Flynn's shoulder curiously at what he was making. Scott wasn't sure if the way Gem's brows drew together was a good thing or not.
"About Kane?" Summer urged as Gemma leaned against the counter. Every few seconds, Gemma would reach back with her foot and nudge either her brother or Flynn.
"About Kane." Scott agreed and looked over at K. "It was something you said, back when we first became Rangers. And I guess it stuck with me because I'm suddenly remembering it."
"So this is all my fault?" K asked, one eyebrow raised raised.
"Pretty much, yeah." He agreed, smiling to take the bite out of it.
"Gem?" Flynn asked suddenly. "Ye okay?"
Scott looked over quickly. At some point in the conversation, Gem had wrapped his arms around Flynn's waist and started nuzzling his neck. Except now he'd gone still, shoulders hitched up like they did when he went tense. After a minute, Gem slowly eased and lifted his head from Flynn's shoulder. "'M fine." He muttered and offered a bright smile.
Flynn continued to stare at him, looking entirely unconvinced. Gem turned to Scott quickly. "What'd she say?"
Scott stared as well before saying. "We're not looking for fighters. We're looking for protectors." When they all did was stare at him, the twins with looks that said they didn't even remember that, he added. "He is a Berserker."
"You want to make Kane a Ranger?" Summer asked, sounding skeptical.
"You don't?" Scott asked right back. "He's a Berserker! Name me someone, anyone, better for the job." Summer opened her mouth and raised a finger to answer than stopped; dropped her hand back into her lap. "Damn you." She said without heat.
"You're crazy." K said empathetically, which was strange for the usually cool woman.
And of course, whenever she got like that, he had to get cheeky. "Oh, completely." He agreed brightly. K rolled her eyes in disbelief and looked over at Flynn and the twins. Mostly at the twins. "What do you think?"
K was a genius but she always forgot one thing when dealing with the twins. It wasn't just the twins anymore, it was the Twins-and-Flynn. They'd Mated almost two months ago, Scott honestly thought she should remember by now. As it was, all three glanced between each other before Gemma looked back at K. "It is crazy."
"But…" Gem hedged.
"Tha's why it's gonna work." Flynn finished for them.
Scott immediately pointed at the Human. "Oi! You swore you'd never finish their sentences when you started dating them!"
Flynn blinked then grinned. "Sorry." He said, sounding completely unapologetic.
"Fine." K said. "Now how are you going to get him on the team with his sister outside the walls?"
"I'm still working on that part?" Scott hedged, wishing he hadn't made it sound so much like a question, and gave K his best unsure-but-game smile.
K just sighed. "Of course you are.
Dillon woke up to a knock against the bars of his cell. He sat up immediately, eyes focusing on the man standing just outside his cell and watching him with an unsure smile. He relaxed slightly when he recognized Truman and glanced at the bunk above his. Ziggy didn't do anything. He stood up and looked at the young man; he was asleep. He sighed heavily. Ziggy had taken a long time to fall asleep last night, they both had; neither felt very safe here.
"Let him sleep." Truman said calmly. "We'll be right across the hall, you can keep an eye on him there."
Dillon looked back at the Ranger and nodded, following him quickly. "My sister?" he asked immediately.
"I am sorry to report there are no Sirens currently registered with Corinth city." Truman said. Funny thing was, Dillon actually believed he truly was sorry. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bars. "Damn it." He breathed, and despite how quiet the words were, they echoed all his exhausted frustration and helplessness.
Truman left him to his thoughts for a few minutes before speaking up. "Now, I know you're going to want to leave immediately, but if you're willing to wait a few hours, I have a proposition for you."
"Really?"
"You two get your things back, come with me to the base, listen to my offer, get a good meal, and if you don't agree with me, you get in your car and leave."
"I could leave now."
"You could." Truman agreed, which made him pause. "But, if you want your things back you're going to have to fight all the guards. You could probably manage that, but you'll have to keep an eye on Grover, since there's no way you're leaving here without him. You two make it pass them, you're going to have to grab supplies, which means even more guards. By this point, an alarm will have gone off, meaning the military is on its way, and once its confirmed its you, the Rangers will be too. You won't have time to grab enough supplies for both of you if you want to get your car, which you'll have to find in lockup while we shut down the city. Of course, you could leave Grover in the city, but he'll just end up back here for breaking out in the first place. Or, you could abandon the car, but you'll have to outrun the VENJIX patrols out in the Wastes on foot. And that's all if you get out of the city in the first place."
"Point." Dillon agreed and looked closer at Truman. "You plan that speech?"
"Yeah." Truman said, red eyes glittering in amusement. "Was it rushed? It felt a bit rushed."
"A bit." He agreed. Truman smiled at him, all good humor. "If I don't agree, I can leave?" he asked; Truman nodded. "What about Ziggy?"
"You mean Grover?" Truman asked. "The situation is… complicated."
"Complicated? How is it complicated? He came in with me, he's in here with me, he leaves with me."
"You have to see it from our perspective." Truman said and grimaced at the look he received. "Grover comes in, fills out half a registration form, and then, somehow, in a city of maybe 5000, he disappears. I am being completely serious, for nearly a year, Grover just vanishes off the grid. You don't just do that in a walled city without practice, so he's probably used to living as a gypsy. In this city, being off the grip for any extended amount of time usually means crime, so at the very least, he's a thief; he's good at it, we can't pin anything on him, so he's been doing it for a long while.
"And then he slips back on the grid, as he's slipping out of the city. He's gone for two weeks, just two, and then he's comes back with you, who feels like VENJIX, who he had to know felt like VENJIX. It's a little suspicious. Of the two of you, I'd honestly say he's the one I'd choose as working for VENJIX."
"He's not working for VENJIX."
"We can't know that."
"You don't know I'm not either."
"You're leaving."
"You don't want me to."
That gave Truman pause. "You're right, I don't. I think you'd be an excellent addition to the team and I'd hate to lose that." Truman told him, which made him stop. Truman wanted him to be a Ranger? Seriously? Truman continued, "We protect people, Kane, and I can't think of anyone better for the job. I've seen how you act with Grover, so I know those implants aren't affecting your instincts; Doctor K doesn't think they're affecting your thinking at all. My team is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, to believe that you're a victim in this."
"They must also believe you're crazy."
"Oh yeah. But it's my sane plans that fail spectacularly. Drives my father nuts."
Dillon grinned slightly. "I just have to listen?"
"Yep."
"I'll go wake up Ziggy." He agreed, and decided to ignore the smirk on Truman's face.
It was a circus. That's what the team was. A circus. Because seriously? He didn't think you could get more ragtag than this team was. Now, he understood why Scott came off as slightly insane; there was no way to stay sane on this team. The only vaguely normal person on the team was McAllistair, and he was Mated to two Deal al Mon. Twin Deal al Mon who practically read each other's minds, but still two Dea al Mon. That must have been an interesting courting process; he was so glad he hadn't been there to see it. Dillon had almost been worried about the man, but there had been a quiet steel to him, along with a seemingly endless patience and good humor.
The Witch had been waiting for them when they'd arrived. She had a pleasant smile, short blonde hair, and her arms had been littered with tiny scars that she didn't seem to realize were there anymore. She had looked him over once before asking, "Do you have any issues?" Except the way she had asked it, he was pretty sure it had been Issues, capital I and all. Truman had made a sound of amusement behind him as he'd hedged out a yes. Landsdown' smile had grown wide. "You'll fit right in then." She said. Which made him a little wary of meeting the rest of the team.
As they'd entered, Ziggy had leaned into him, all warmth and trust and sly amusement. "Truman's into her." Ziggy had warned him. "Like, seriously, probably end up Mated, into her." Dillon had no idea where Ziggy had gotten that impression; there was nothing he could see in body language or scent to give it, but something told him Ziggy knew these things the same way he knew that there were four exits to outside and the door in the kitchen was locked at the moment.
The twins he'd written off as a relatively harmless kind of crazy; at least, harmless until they got upset. He was pointedly not thinking about the fact that they were more uneasy around Ziggy than him.
The doctor, though, the doctor had taken the cake. She was arrogant and, unfortunately, had the mind to back it up. She was too smart for her own good; it kind of reminded him of Amara, in a way. Amara would like her, he decided, at the same time deciding they should never, under any circumstances, meet, lest he lose what was left of his sanity.
He was just so glad to be out of that building.
"What do you think?" Dillon asked Ziggy quietly as they sat down at the table in the diner. Truman had taken them out for lunch, as promised; Scott and the Witch had accompanied them but had decided to take a different table to let him think; their table was also closer to the door.
Ziggy glanced at the two Rangers over his shoulder even as he deftly unwrapped the silverware and palmed the butter knife away. It was the fourth knife Ziggy had managed to get his hands on since exiting the jail, two of which he'd taken from the Ranger's kitchen. Dillon didn't even know where he was putting them. This squirreling away of anything sharp was so typically Dea al Mon that it hurt Dillon's head to think about. "They're sincere." Ziggy said, turning back to him, and if the shading of his eyes was off Dillon wasn't acknowledging it. "And I bet they're willing to negotiate."
"No, I meant, what do you think I should do?"
"Not my place to say." Ziggy said, snatching one of the menus from the holder by the edge. "I'm not Pack."
"But you are." He said, frowning.
Ziggy's eyes shot up to him, face frozen in shock. Dillon felt a chill go through him as he realized. Sometimes, resonation didn't go both ways; sometimes, the non-Pack races didn't even realize they part of a resonation. And despite knowing that, Dillon hadn't even considered that, while Ziggy was his Pack, he wasn't Ziggy's. But that wasn't the big thing, not really. You didn't need a resonation to have a Pack. Of the millions of Packs that had existed before VENJIX, maybe one in every ten had contained a single resonation. All the others had been formed over time and he could do that with Ziggy, could get the younger man to accept him the longer way.
No, the bad part was that Ziggy hadn't even realized he was Pack. Despite what had happened in the jail, Ziggy hadn't even thought of it. Ziggy had leashed him three times now and he'd been sure Ziggy had known he was doing it, that Ziggy had trusted the bond to hold Dillon back. He hadn't. Ziggy had had no promise that Dillon wouldn't turn on him and he'd done it anyways.
Then Ziggy smiled, slight and teasing, and he still looked like someone had smacked him with something heavy. "Wow, you're really desperate for a Pack, aren't you?" he said.
Dillon huffed but before he could respond, a waitress moved from Truman's table to theirs, looking nervous and pale. Dillon was a little worried about her fainting. The waitress kept giving him terrified looks as she squeaked out her name and asked for their orders. Dillon sighed and leaned back as Ziggy turned the full weight of his smile onto her. By the time the woman left, she was completely charmed and looked more than a little stunned, a slight, flattering blush on her cheeks. Dillon honestly couldn't blame her for the reaction.
"You're incorrigible." Dillon told Ziggy. Ziggy laughed, a rich sound that dragged a smile up, no matter how hard Dillon tried to push it down.
"Thank you." Ziggy said gleefully. After a few minutes, Ziggy grinned brightly. "Hey, maybe you could get them to help you find your sister!"
"How do you think that's going to work?"
"Well," Ziggy said, spreading his arms wide. The motion revealed the bare skin of Ziggy's wrists; seriously, where had he put the knives? "She's not in here. She's got to be out there. I saw some of those strongholds while I was outside, from a distance admittedly, but they were still pretty huge. You can't get through there by yourself. Having a team to back you up will help. And you'll have a lot of medical equipment when you get back. Not to mention a place to come back to. It would be a little cold-hearted for them to just say no."
"So you're for me joining?" he asked.
"I'm for nothing. I'm just pointing things out." Ziggy said calmly.
Dillon smiled again and leaned forward to watch him. "Say I leave, would you come with me?" he asked.
Ziggy paused and gave him a weird look. "I just got back." He said with a frown. "I think I've had enough of the Wastes for a while."
"I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone."
"You had no problem with it before." Ziggy said, brow furrowing.
"That's before I learned a jail worth of guys wanted to kill you." He hissed.
"Oh, they don't want to kill me, at least not immediately." Ziggy said. "I'd much rather die than let them get a hold of me."
Dillon was aware, peripherally, that the diner had just gotten a little too cold and that the Rangers were now watching him nervously; that Ziggy's charmed little waitress looked close to tears of fright. And that it might be his fault. Ziggy just leaned back in his chair and frowned at him. "A bit not good?" he asked, looking wholly unconcerned.
"A bit." He agreed with too much control.
Truman had stood up and was walking towards them, looking unsure. As he did, Ziggy flicked his wrist, a swift, barely there motion that pulled Dillon's eyes down instinctively. The butter knife Ziggy had "acquired" was resting comfortably in Ziggy's palm; Ziggy twirled it between his fingers with practiced ease before placing it back wherever he'd been hiding it. Dillon frowned as Truman stopped next to them, understanding Ziggy's silent message that he could take care of himself. If he actually could or not didn't matter because Dillon could still see him pressed against the wall of their cell, too scared to even think properly. How was he supposed to leave Ziggy behind with that image stuck in his head?
…Sometimes, being a Pack Race sucked.
"Everything okay?" Truman asked.
"You'd better be able to fucking negotiate." He growled at Truman, settling moodily in his seat as his temper warmed. More than one person sighed in relief.
Truman's eyes flickered towards Ziggy briefly in understanding before going back to him. "I'm sure we can work something out." He replied genially.
"Once a month." Truman said firmly.
Dillon arched an eyebrow. "A month?" he echoed in disbelief. Ziggy had been right; the Rangers weren't entirely adverse to the idea of helping him find his sister, especially if raiding VENJIX holds was involved. "We try to be self-sufficient." Truman had said with a shrug. "But we always seem to have a shortage of something."
"Like intelligence." The doc had muttered from behind her computer screen. Dillon wasn't quite sure if she had meant IQ or knowledge about VENJIX. He had a feeling it might have been both.
"One factory, once a month." Truman repeated. "Anything more and VENJIX will notice we're looking for more than supplies and info. If he knows we're looking for more than that, he'll set traps." Truman raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of him. "That one's none negotiable."
"He's got a point." Ziggy agreed from where he was sitting on a stepladder nearby.
You're supposed to be on my side. Dillon thought belligerently, but didn't voice it. "Fine." He said instead, but made sure his tone said he didn't like it.
Truman smiled happily. "Right. Anything else?"
He jerked a thumb in Ziggy's direction. "He gets out of jail with me." Truman grimaced, like he'd seen this coming all along. Dillon smirked. "Problem?" he asked.
"Asides from the fact that he's taking all of our knives?" Truman replied sarcastically. Dillon shrugged to hide his surprise. He hadn't thought they'd noticed that. From the slight sound Ziggy made, he hadn't either. "Nothing I can come up with." Truman finally admitted. "Though my father really isn't going to like this."
"I honestly don't care what you're father thinks."
The Witch- it was Landsdown, right? Or should he be calling them by their first names now?-, who had been passing by the lab, snorted in amusement. "Oh, he'll fit right in." She said gleefully. Dillon smirked as Truman snorted. "Anything else?" Truman asked.
"Nope. We have a deal." He replied; Truman looked almost relieved. "So, do I get my own personal 'here I am, shoot me now' uniform now?" he asked.
Truman bit his lip to hide his smile. "Sorry Kane. I was thinking of putting you in something black. You don't strike me as a shiny, neon kind of person."
"You never know." Dillon said, deadpan. "I may have a secret love of pink and sparkles."
Truman grinned, wide and startlingly boyish. "I would pay to see that."
"But no matter how much you offer, it will never be enough."
Truman laughed. "What a shame." He said before turning and starting to walk away. "I'll get to work on the paperwork for your release. I'd prefer it if you two didn't leave until I finish." Truman stopped and turned enough to lock eyes with Ziggy. "And if our knives somehow found their way back to their proper places, I'd greatly appreciate it."
"I make no promises, Captain." Ziggy said solemnly and snapped off a smart salute. Truman rolled his eyes and continued walking away.
Ziggy looked at him with amused eyes. "Congratulations." He said cheerfully.
"I think I'm doomed." He said in reply. Ziggy laughed, short and quiet. "What are you going to do now?" Dillon asked, stepping closer. Ziggy frowned and tilted his head to the side slightly. "I was only gone for a few days." Ziggy replied thoughtfully. "They shouldn't have sold my apartment yet. Not that there's really anyone to sell it to. I'll probably go back there."
"You gonna be okay?" he asked.
Ziggy nodded. "I'll be fine. I can run faster than they can."
"Can you not sound so cheerful about that?"
Ziggy laughed. "If I'm not cheerful, I'm going to flip the fuck out." He said brightly. "And that won't be pretty. After all, I have the Rangers' knives."
Dillon pressed his lips together. "You could stay here." He suggested.
"Here?" Ziggy asked blankly.
Dillon nodded. "Here at the Garage. With the Rangers. Where you'll be safe."
"Where you can keep an eye on me?" Ziggy said with a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I wasn't going to say it, but yeah."
Ziggy looked around briefly, almost curious, then shook his head. "Nah." He declined. "It's not really my style. Besides, I think I make the twins uncomfortable."
"Well, I can't force you." He said and shrugged. "But if you need anything, I'm here."
Ziggy's smile was soft and sweet. "I'll keep that in mind."