Alister dislikes that he's subjected to a doctor's house call later that night, even though he knows that it's justified. He tries to talk his way out of the visit altogether, knowing full well that they're going to restrict what he can do. Raphael bluntly shoots down the start of his protest: "Your fever got up to thirty-nine degrees before we got it to break. This is happening whether you like it or not."
Alister hates that he can't argue that point, especially since it's a damned good one.
The doctor that comes to them is quick and clinical in his examination. Between being completely soaked by the rain and neglecting his own health, Alister's illness is attributed to overworking himself. He's given strict orders to maintain a healthy meal and sleeping schedule, and if he worsens or becomes as ill as he did the night before they're to call the doctor back. There's no need for antibiotics or any medications yet, though that could change if Alister doesn't heed the advice.
The doctor only recommends these things, as he knows Alister won't listen to him. An hour later, however, Dartz calls. Alister is expressly forbidden to do anything except rest. The upcoming trip to Paris is also postponed by another week to allow Alister ample time to recover. There's no arguing with Dartz—his word is law, especially in this instance.
If Alister didn't feel equivalent to a wrung-out washcloth, he'd argue more. He reluctantly concedes that he needs to rest. He can't take down Kaiba if he's too weak to even stand up.
He tells himself that's the reason he allows Valon to hang out with him in his room the following day, and why he tolerates Raphael's presence whenever the man comes to check on him. They've already proven they're not going to leave him alone, and right now he can't find it in his heart to argue against their company. He still maintains his distance, and he never thanks either of them for their help, but they don't demand his gratitude either.
So maybe Alister isn't as cold towards them. Maybe he's doing his best not to snap at Valon. Maybe he decides to mostly ignore what he's heard about Raphael for now, and maybe he tries harder to speak civilly towards them.
He does have to work with them, after all. He might as well try to get along.
(There's no words to describe what changed between the three of them after that night—but Alister knows that something did. He's just not sure what, and it bothers him that he can't put words to it.)
Alister has only rested for a full day when the Swordsmen are called back to Paradius.
It's not raining this time, though the day is still promising bad weather. It's muggy and uncomfortable, the humidity seeping in through the doors and windows even before the sun comes out; there's thunderclouds gathering in the distance even as the sun climbs higher in the sky. Alister hates this kind of weather, but at least it isn't pouring rain.
Valon is grumbling all the while as they prepare to leave. "It's Saturday," he mutters. "Does Dartz understand the concept of a weekend?"
"He's probably been around long enough for its invention," Alister points out, his tone flat. "Doesn't mean he cares."
Alister doesn't either—he hates staying still, especially since there's still so much to do. He's already lost so much time resting when he could have been finding information out about Kaiba. The summons means that Dartz is assessing Alister's health.
Valon rolls his eyes as he goes out the door. "'Course I get the one boss who doesn' care 'bout working weekends."
Alister feels eyes on him, and he meets Raphael's gaze evenly. He knows the taller man's been watching him all morning. Now that Alister's started paying attention, he's beginning to realize that most of what he's seen of Raphael is how he truly is—he's not putting on an act for anyone's benefit, save for those few moments where he tries his best to hide any vulnerability he has. For better or worse, what Alister sees is what he gets.
(It's getting harder for Alister to reconcile what he's heard with what he's seeing in real time. But he still doesn't understand how Raphael can pretend his family is dead and gone, and it's the only thing stopping Alister from outright dismissing the rumors.)
"I'm feeling better, Raphael, so you can quit hovering. I won't keel over," Alister says aloud.
"I didn't think you were," Raphael replies after a pause.
That's a lie, and Alister can see through it. "If I feel lousy, I'll say as much," he says with a sigh. "Master Dartz would throw a fit if I make myself sick again."
Raphael seems satisfied by that answer, though he watches Alister long enough to determine how honest he's being. He turns away towards the garage door after a brief hesitation. "Then let's go," he says simply, and Alister follows him out.
By now they've gotten the Jeep's flat tire changed, and Raphael insists on taking it to Paradius headquarters. He claims it's because he doesn't want to get wet if it does end up raining again. The look Raphael shoots Alister says otherwise, but he can't find it in him to argue. Alister ends up dozing on the way there, and even with his eyes closed he knows Raphael's taking turns slowly to avoid slinging him around.
Gurimo's waiting for them in the conference room when they arrive, this time with plenty of time to spare. It's early Saturday morning, when traffic is at its lowest, so they have no reason to be late. With him are two of Paradius's grunts; both men are burly, in suits, and near identical in appearance save hair color. Alister recognizes them from different security details that Dartz has had in the past.
The two of them sneer at the Swordsmen as they enter, but Alister ignores them. It's no secret that some of the older operatives of Paradius don't like them. Even though Raphael is the eldest of the trio, he's still so much younger than the other members are. No one likes the idea of answering to teenagers and adults who are considered too young to legally drink in this country. But the three youngest under Dartz's employ are his chosen Swordsmen, not those who have seniority or have claimed to give more to the cause. Let them sulk all they want to—it won't change Dartz's mind.
Alister doesn't care what they think, as long as they don't interfere with his own mission. Raphael mirrors Alister's own attitude in this regard. He's polite if they are, but if any try to stir up trouble he firmly shuts them down or outright ignores them. Valon's temper is ill-suited for bullies, but usually Raphael is with him to act as a buffer and keeps everyone in check.
No one ever escalates matters to where Dartz needs to get involved. They wouldn't dare invoke Dartz's wrath over petty posturing.
This time, Gurimo doesn't have any complaints about their timing. Instead, he waits until the door is closed behind them before he starts. "Master Dartz wants me to initiate a training exercise with you this morning."
That catches their attention, and even Valon's perked up in interest.
"It's imperative that you master stealth and blending into a crowd. Whether it's because someone will be pursuing you, or it's because you need to escape notice from your target, you all need to understand how to blend in," Gurimo says. "Alister, I'm aware you already understand how to craft disguises and even can alter your voice. You'll have a different role to play in this exercise, since Master Dartz has expressed that you are on restricted duty."
Alister frowns but doesn't reply, waiting to see where this is going.
Gurimo's attention turns to Raphael and Valon. "You two will be given ten minutes to hide outside. You must stay within identified parameters and aren't allowed in buildings, but otherwise you can use all methods at your disposal. After that time has passed, a search party will attempt to find you. You must avoid us for two hours."
"It's like hide 'n' seek, is it?" Valon's eyes are practically gleaming. "Cool. Never played games much growin' up, but this oughta be fun."
"This is not a game," Gurimo says stiffly.
"…Oh, it's not? Righto. So we're hidin' from you?"
"Yes."
"And you're tryin' to find us, yeah?"
"Boy—"
"So it's hide and seek, mate. It's okay, you can say tha' and you won', like, blow up or somethin'."
Raphael is having trouble keeping a straight face, even as Gurimo's expression darkens. "Valon, enough."
Valon's grin is lopsided and full of mischief, but he quiets.
Gurimo waits for Valon to say anything else before he continues. "Alister, your own objective in this exercise is to practice locating targets on the move. Based on what you know of them, you'll direct the search team to where you think they'll go."
Alister raises an eyebrow. He looks over at his fellow Swordsmen; Raphael's expression is neutral, and Valon's eyes hold a challenge. He returns his attention to Gurimo and dips his head. "Shouldn't be hard," he says.
All three of them are given a map of the area that Raphael and Valon are supposed to hide in, something they study in silence. Well, Raphael studies it anyways—Valon alternates bouncing on his heels and toes, looking impatient and antsy. Alister remembers then that Valon's not fully literate and dyslexic; this is going to put him at a disadvantage if he needs to read street signs or the names of buildings. Raphael is no less aware of this issue. As the two of them are leaving the conference room, Raphael is telling Valon what landmarks line the borders of the area they need to hide in.
Alister leans into the seat as the minutes start ticking down. Raphael is at a disadvantage in this exercise, as his physique will make it harder for him to blend into the crowd. Knowing the man, he's going to pick the edges of any large group to stay in. He's like Alister in that he hates being crowded, and he's too tall to stay in the middle of the crowd without notice. The long purple coat he's been favoring lately could give Raphael away, so there's a chance he'll leave it behind.
Valon's a wild card, but he's also impatient. Staying still won't be Valon's strong suit, so he'll pick a location that's busy and bustling so he doesn't get bored. His voice alone will give him away, so getting Valon to talk will be crucial. Maybe directing the team to taunt Valon might get a rise that will give him away, but…the men Gurimo's picked don't like them to begin with, and to allow them a reason to say something truly cruel to Valon…
It's something Alister realizes he's uncomfortable with, though he can't explain why. He decides not to bring it up unless he has absolutely no other choice.
Gurimo returns with a group of four sometime later. It turns out that Alister won't be blind in this exercise—Gurimo has a remote that he clicks a button on, and a screen slides down from the ceiling. Alister can see the screen has multiple smaller ones that are hooked up to various feeds, mainly traffic cameras but also a couple shop cameras.
"When you see them, direct us on the comms," Gurimo orders him as he leaves.
Alister rolls his eyes but turns his attention to the monitors. As much as he tells himself he's not interested in games, or that he's not excited by this exercise, he can't help but feel the start of anticipation. This is a chance to show his own skills, and a chance to see what exactly his fellow Swordsmen can do.
"Give me your best shot," he says aloud in the quiet room.
It takes them almost the full time to locate just Raphael.
At first, Alister is practically chasing Raphael. He's right about where the burly man keeps himself; whenever Alister catches sight of him, he's never directly in the middle of the crowd. But every time they close in on where he is, Raphael seems to realize they're there and moves on. The search team doesn't stay as one cohesive unit and splits up, and even then they can't seem to corner Raphael.
Alister can't pinpoint when it happens, but there comes a moment when he looks at the screen and realizes Raphael's vanished. No amount of scanning the monitors reveals where he went. One would think someone of his height and build would be easy to find—he's proven that's not the case, and Alister is impressed.
He finally locates him again, this time standing outside of a quiet looking café with a cup of coffee in hand. Alister gets the answer about why he lost Raphael. He's changed into a neon blue t-shirt, gained a gray hoodie to tie around his waist, and has a baseball cap with a bright zig-zag pattern that he's worn backwards. The colors are obnoxious on Raphael, who normally wears muted ones, but it serves its purpose. Alister doesn't figure out it's Raphael until the man steps into the peripheral of a camera to let a young mother into the café.
It's clear Gurimo wasn't expecting Raphael to hide as well as he did. On the cameras, he looks hot and irritable; Alister can imagine that the weather is getting distinctly uncomfortable, and Gurimo is still in his robes. How Gurimo can preach about subtlety, yet wear something so completely outlandish, is beyond Alister to understand or care about.
They're still looking for Valon when Raphael returns; it takes Raphael fifteen minutes to get back on foot, and Valon has just ten minutes left to hide. He's still in the clothes he was disguised in, and Alister can't help but smirk as he comes back in. "Rad outfit, my dude," he drawls.
Raphael is momentarily caught off guard, and then after a moment he returns the smirk. "I thought the colors were totally bodacious, personally," he says. Alister works hard not to laugh at the matching drawl.
Raphael's eyes shift past him to the monitor. He sobers and crosses the room, removing the cap. His hair is a little more flattened on his head from wearing the hat and by sweat, and he runs a hand quickly through it. Though it rises again, the ends of his hair start to curl. "I'd wondered if they were going to have you using cameras," he remarks. "That's why I tried staying away from them."
Alister's thrown by the sight—he hasn't noticed Raphael's hair is naturally wavy—but he recovers. "I haven't mastered looking through walls yet, sorry," he replies. "Seriously, nice touch with the hat."
"I've had plenty of practice hiding in plain sight," Raphael says off-handedly, something wry and bitter in the comment. His eyes are on the screen, and he misses the frown Alister shoots him. "Where's Valon?"
"Haven't found him yet," Alister replies, returning his focus as well. "I know Gurimo and his team are having trouble, too."
He grudgingly admits that Valon's managed to pull a literal vanishing act despite his bright and cheerful personality. He was expecting to find Valon first, yet he's still searching for the kid. No amount of careful scanning on the surveillance feeds yields his location. "I don't suppose you know where he'd be?" he asks.
Raphael shakes his head. "I wouldn't, but I'm not surprised you're having trouble finding him. He told me he grew up on the streets. He didn't say more than that," he adds, noticing the look Alister is giving him. "But this is probably a cakewalk for him."
Alister scowls. He doesn't know what happened to Valon that possibly left him growing up homeless at such a young age, but it explains why Valon's been so hard to locate. This exercise is to his advantage after all, since he probably knows more about how to blend in urban environments than his friends combined. A deserted island and a warzone are not anywhere close to matching the bustling streets of civilization.
Alister leans back in the seat again, frowning thoughtfully. He knows Valon used to live with a nun, but there are no churches in the established boundaries. Hiding in alleyways and in corners of buildings would be too obvious, especially for Valon. He knows the kid's a showoff. Valon's probably hiding in plain sight, somewhere that would irritate all of those searching for him but would allow him to keep moving—
"There."
Alister sees it the same time Raphael points to the screen. Gurimo and the search party have come back together and are starting to make their way back to Paradius. Directly behind them there's a small figure. Their hands are folded into their pockets, a beanie cap shoved far down on their head. The oversized hoodie they're in almost swallows them.
Come to think of it, he's seen that individual in peripherals, hanging around Gurimo or one of the members of the search team for the duration of the exercise. He didn't think anything of it, just thought it was some kid that happened to be in the area, but—
"I'll be damned," he mutters.
Valon looks up at the nearest camera with a cheeky grin and winks, giving it a cheerful wave.
Smart brat, Alister concedes, smirking. He taps the headset. "Hey, Gurimo."
"It seems you're both fully capable of hiding. Good work," Gurimo says, studying the two Swordsmen.
Raphael shrugs, and Valon's still grinning. Both are back in their own clothing by now, and everyone's cooled off. But Alister notices that Valon's limping when he wasn't before, and Valon's grin turns edged as he glowers at the group behind Gurimo. Something's happened from the time Alister spotted him to when Valon came back to the conference room, when he was off camera.
He frowns. The new injury bothers him, and he knows Raphael's now aware of it as well. He's flanked Valon, not quite holding him up but close enough to help him if the need arises.
"Alister, it shouldn't have taken you so long to find them," Gurimo adds. "You had the cameras and a team on the ground, yet you needed almost the full time to find them."
"Alister almost caught me a couple times," Raphael says then. Alister notes the edge that's crept into his voice, once again startled when he realizes he's being defended again. "Even when he's not feeling well, Alister managed to push me. I had to change clothes completely to get him off my back."
"Bet Alister woulda found us faster if Dartz let him outta 'ere,'"Valon mutters before Gurimo can retort. He's still glaring at the men across the room, his fists clenched at his side. "He's smarter than you gits."
"I doubt it, kid," one of the men replies, a challenge in his voice.
Valon digs a hand into his pocket and tosses a wallet onto the table. "I know Alister wouldn' 'ave let me pick 'is pocket," he retorts. "Your driver's license photo sucks, by the way."
The man who'd spoken starts and pats himself down. He scowls at Valon as he realizes whose wallet is on the table. Valon grins back, but it's not a friendly one.
Gurimo purses his lips. "You both strike a reasonable point. Once Master Dartz permits it, we'll see how quickly Alister can find you. In the meantime, you are dismissed."
The men file out, one of them stopping long enough to pocket his pilfered wallet. Valon watches them go, bristling all the while. It isn't until they're all out when Raphael turns to the younger teenager. "What happened to your leg?" he asks, his voice low and holding the start of concern.
"Nothin', Raph," Valon mutters, starting to hobble towards the door. "Don't worry about it."
Alister steps in front of him before he's realized he's moved. "You're limping, Valon. You weren't doing that ten minutes ago."
(He doesn't care about Valon personally, he tells himself. He just can't have the mission to Paris postponed again because Valon went and hurt himself.)
"It's nothin', fellas," Valon snaps, scowling at them both. "I jus' tripped on the way back and skinned my knee. No big deal, I've had worse. I'll take care of it when we get home."
It's a lie that both older Swordsmen immediately see through. A skinned knee wouldn't make Valon completely shift weight off his leg, nor should it make him favor it. He's hurt worse than he's letting on.
When it becomes clear that neither of the older Swordsmen will let him drop the topic, Valon finally sits down and rolls up his right pant leg to let them look at it. Alister's eyes narrow at the blue-purple bruise already forming beneath the bleeding scrapes on the kid's knee. The skin under the bruise is starting to swell. His gaze travels to Valon's ankle, where he can see it's already puffy.
"You call this nothing to worry about?" Raphael asks, eyes narrowing. "What did you do?"
"I've had worse, Raph," Valon says tersely. "Just drop it, all right? I tripped on my way back in, tweaked the ankle, and banged up my knee. This isn't tha' bad."
"Valon—"
"I said drop it." Valon's voice holds a warning and a snap, and Raphael falls silent. He rises to his feet and lets his pant leg fall over his knee, starting to hobble out. "C'mon, let's just go."
Alister and Raphael exchange glances, but they follow Valon out of the room. On their way to the elevator, they pass the small squad Gurimo put together for his exercise. The man who got his wallet stolen sneers at Valon as he passes.
"I saw you almost eat it earlier, kid. Maybe you should watch your step," Wallet calls after Valon.
Valon's shoulders rise, scowling at the man. Alister sees a silent challenge in the older man's expression, and Valon gives a soft growl before he keeps moving forward. But Raphael stops and faces them, his eyes narrowed. "Maybe you shouldn't trip him," he says icily.
"Raph, don't," Valon mutters, but it's only half-hearted.
Wallet holds his hands up. "Whoa there, tough guy. I just said he needs to be more careful. I didn't do anything to him, did I?" he asks, looking around at the men beside him.
"That's right!" pipes up another one. "The kid got tangled up in the threshold. I saw it!"
"You shouldn't be so quick to accuse us of hurting anyone," adds a third one. "We're all supposed to work together. You don't need to create a hostile work environment—we need to get along, not accuse people blindly of things they didn't do."
Alister knows Raphael's right about what happened. The men in front of them are practically gloating about it, and Valon's own behavior confirms all their suspicions. But there's no immediate proof that they did anything, and unless Valon directly says otherwise there's not anything they can really do.
Raphael glares at them a moment longer before he speaks. "You're right. We do need to work together," he says stiffly. "I find it charming how much effort you're putting into work relationships. Good for you for trying your absolute best to get along with a child."
He ignores the starts of indignant splutters as he turns away, going towards the elevator where Valon's waiting. Alister shrugs at them, looking thoroughly unimpressed as he passes them. "He's not wrong," he says. "Be proud, boys. You really showed us."
Alister leaves them alone, joining the other Swordsmen on the elevator.
Two more days pass before they receive another summons to corporate headquarters.
Alister's already feeling better, enough to where the doctor grudgingly gives him a clean bill of health. He's warned to take it easy, and to continue eating and pursuing a healthy sleeping schedule. Alister won't, but at least he's allowed to move around again.
Valon's knee and ankle both end up needing ice, with his ankle wrapped as an extra precaution, but thankfully it's not a serious injury. He stops limping by the end of the first day, and he's back to his cheerful and obnoxious self as well. But whenever it's brought up, Valon refuses to talk about how he was injured. Alister doesn't bother pushing the issue, as it really isn't his business; Raphael's obviously worried, but there's nothing he can do if Valon won't talk.
When they arrive, Dartz is waiting for them in the conference room. Gurimo is there as well, along with Wallet and his little posse. Valon bristles at the sight but surprisingly remains silent; Raphael puts himself between the group and the younger Swordsman, pointedly ignoring the glares from all sides.
This time it's just fine-tuning their upcoming assignment to Paris. With Alister in near full health again, there's no need to delay it much more. There's also a brief review of their exercise with Gurimo; Dartz commends the Swordsmen for the use of their skills, and Alister smirks when he watches the expressions on Gurimo and his team darken.
He still doesn't say what Alister's assignment is in Paris, and since it doesn't pertain to Kaiba Alister doesn't press for details. He'll find out soon enough, he supposes. He still doesn't understand why Raphael is so nervous whenever the topic comes up, but Dartz doesn't single him out for a response; while Alister is interested, he's not curious enough to push the subject.
Raphael and Gurimo are ordered to remain behind, but everyone else is dismissed. Alister doesn't see the need to stay or wait upstairs—he'll wait in the lobby, where he can leave faster. He wants nothing to do with Gurimo's goon squad anyways, so he moves quickly down the hall.
Valon tags along with him. "You ever been to Paris?" he asks.
Alister shakes his head but doesn't speak, not interested in conversation. The kid keeps pace with him, humming for several seconds before he suddenly says, "I think I'm gonna eat a snail when I get there."
Alister actually stops at that, thrown by the random comment. Valon accidentally bumps into him, as he wasn't ready for the other Swordsman to stop as abruptly as he did. The look Alister gives him at the involuntary physical contact causes the kid to quickly step back, but he's still grinning.
"Is there a particular reason you're bringing this up?" Alister asks him, exasperation coloring his voice.
The kid shrugs, making a noncommittal noise. "Figured the best way to get you to talk is sayin' somethin' unexpected. It worked," he replies cheerfully.
Alister studies the kid for several seconds before turning away and continuing on. "I don't do chit-chat," he says flatly. "Go bother Raphael if you're looking for a conversation partner."
Valon rolls his eyes but continues to follow, shoving his hands into his pocket. He stops, quickly patting his pants before groaning. "I left my keys back there."
"I'm not waiting on you, twerp."
"Wasn' asking you to, bludger," Valon calls over his shoulder as he trots back the way he came, a lopsided grin in place as he rounds the corner. Alister doesn't watch him go and continues towards the elevator. Valon's quick on his feet and he'll probably catch up to Alister soon enough.
He's in the elevator, the doors starting to close, when a snarled cry comes down the hallway. It's Valon's, and there's an edge of pain to his voice.
He slaps the elevator door to stop it from closing as he shoots out of the small space, his pace brisk and his strides long as he follows the path Valon took. How is it that Valon's gotten himself hurt in the space of a minute?
He rounds the corner and stops, his eyes falling onto an unpleasant scene.
Wallet and one of his friends are standing over Valon. He's backed against a closed door, a red mark on his cheek and the corner of his mouth bleeding as he glowers up at them. His fists are up and his arms are close to his body—he's in a defensive stance. He's not swung at them yet, bound by his parole, but Valon's temper has a notoriously short fuse. A fight is imminent.
"Careful, kid," Wallet sneers, every word condescending and mocking. "That's the second time you've tripped in two days."
Valon's glare sharpens. "Bugger off!" he snarls.
"Or what?" Wallet steps closer, and this time he grabs one of Valon's clenched hands. He forces it down and twists, and Valon yelps as he tries to follow the pull of his own hand. "You can't hurt us, kid. Unless you want to screw up your parole."
Valon twists out of the man's grip, holding his wrist as he glares at them, but Wallet has a point—there is nothing in this moment that he can do to defend himself, not when he's alone.
Maybe it's the fact Alister hates bullies almost as much as he hates Kaiba and his company. Maybe it's because Alister remembers the low conversation that he overheard between Raphael and Valon days ago, and he wants to prove Valon wrong out of spite. Maybe it's because of the look of frustrated helplessness on Valon's face as he stares up at the grown men surrounding him.
(Alister refuses to acknowledge that it's because the sight of Valon's blood stirred up the protective fury that only being an older sibling can generate).
Alister storms to the group, cutting between Valon and the grunts. "You all have three seconds to tell me what happened," he hisses at them, his voice cold and full of menace. "Why is Valon bleeding?"
He's pleased to note that Wallet and his friends have stepped back, their expressions varying degrees of nervous and uneasy. Alister is not as muscular as Raphael or Valon, but he knows how to make himself look just as intimidating. It isn't always about brawn, it's about presence—Dartz has taught him that much.
"The kid bumped into us," Wallet says at last, scowling at Valon. "He wasn't watching where he was going and almost knocked us over, so we were asking him to apologize. He started yelling at us and threatened to hit us, so we were just reminding him about Master Dartz's rules."
Wallet reaches over towards Valon, the smile on his face not meeting his eyes. "Don't worry, though. We solved it already, didn't we?" he asks, ruffling Valon's hair.
The Australian jerks backwards and out of reach, eyes flashing. "Don' you bloody touch me!" he snarls, fists clenching.
Alister holds up a hand to quiet Valon, the motion sharp and just as effective as a shout. He returns his attention to Wallet and his friend, lips thinning. "You still haven't answered my question," he says frostily. "Why. Is Valon. Bleeding."
He can feel Valon's surprised eyes on his back. Alister doesn't turn, his attention focused solely on the men in front of him. None of them seem to be forthcoming in what happened, trying not to look guilty even as Alister watches them.
His eyes narrow. "Valon, maybe you can offer some insight."
He knows Valon won't. Even though Alister is near certain Valon didn't start this, he also knows the younger Swordsman won't do anything perceived as "snitching." He probably thinks it won't help him if he does, given his background; he's used to fighting his own fights, never really having anyone who's stood up for him before.
But that's not what Alister is after when he asks. If anything, he's setting out bait. And sure enough, one of Wallet's friends takes it.
"Oh, come on! Why would we push the kid into the door?" he snaps indignantly. "He's one of Master Dartz's precious Swordsmen! We know he would be furious if we hurt one of you!"
Alister smiles. It's not a nice one. "Weren't you the one who said we shouldn't foster a hostile work environment? I never said you pushed him. And into a door, no less? My, how oddly specific."
The group realizes what's been said and freezes.
The smile vanishes off Alister's features. "This is the second time Valon's been alone with you and has ended up hurt," he says, his voice low and threatening. "There will not be a third time. Understand?"
He doesn't wait for their stammered replies, turning away and taking Valon's uninjured wrist to pull him along. "We're going," he says curtly, and he starts towards the elevator. Valon has to half-jog to keep up with Alister's long strides.
Only when the doors close does Alister turn to the younger Swordsman. "Come here."
Valon yelps as Alister's hands go towards his face, backing away. "What—?"
"Stay still."
The starts of his protests immediately die as Alister gently tilts Valon's chin up to better investigate the growing bruise and where he's bleeding. He also takes Valon's wrist, gently rolling it to make sure there's no serious injury. Once he's satisfied, he releases him and steps back. "What happened? Don't tell me it was nothing."
"…Bit my cheek when I hit the doorframe," Valon says in a clipped voice, something wary and guarded in his expression. Alister can't blame him—he's never shown the boy anything close to concern before. This is unfamiliar territory, and now that Alister's temper is cooling he realizes he's just gotten himself involved in something that's not his business.
Well, he's gotten this far. He might as well find out the rest. "Was their story true?"
Valon blinks. "What?"
"Did you run into them, or did they push you?"
Valon's gaze shifts away. "Why do you care?" he retorts.
Good question. "There are rules, Valon," he says at last, and a hard note slips into his words. "If you're being expected to follow the rules Master Dartz has laid out, that standard extends to everyone. There is no excuse for grown men to be beating up a child."
A silence falls between them as the elevator doors open. Valon doesn't speak, mulling over the other's words. He even stays silent as Alister gets him an ice pack for his face. Whatever he's thinking, Alister can't tell—for once, Valon's poker face is better than his own.
He makes them wait, no longer interested in leaving without Raphael. It isn't until the eldest Swordsman exits the elevator, his eyes landing on them and his expression shifting into a concerned one, when Valon finally speaks.
"They started it, both times."
Alister nods once. "Okay."
And before Valon can protest, can even begin to form the words to stop him, Alister steps forward and tells Raphael what happened.
Whatever his reasons, Alister has learned Raphael does his best not to show any vulnerability around them. If his true emotions show, it is only because something in those moments strikes a chord. The thunderstorm on the island is one such instance.
This turns into another.
Raphael's eyes turn a darker shade of blue. The man's jaw clenches tight, and his hands ball into fists as tension crests along his shoulders. It's very clear that Raphael has that same protective fury on Valon's behalf that Alister does, and it's another expanse of common ground gained between them.
Raphael doesn't say anything for several minutes, clearly mulling on how he's supposed to proceed. Valon shoots Alister an uneasy glance, to which he shrugs–he's not a mind reader.
Ultimately, Raphael's expression clears. He turns back to the elevator. "Stay here."
Valon starts, realizing where the man is going. Alister stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Raph, tellin' Dartz won' solve anything!" he calls after him.
Raphael gets into the elevator, but he doesn't turn to reply. "I'm not telling him."
They're called back to the conference room ten minutes later.
Gurimo and his team are already there when they come back in. Wallet and his friends tense when they see Alister and Valon, but Alister doesn't look over or dignify them with a greeting. Whatever is going to happen will happen.
"I apologize for having you all return," Dartz says smoothly. "But something important was brought to my attention, and I felt it was enough to call you back. Raphael, would you like to elaborate since this is your idea?"
All eyes swing to Raphael. He's impassive, arms folded across a broad chest. "It was Gurimo's exercise a couple days ago that made me realize that hiding won't always be an option," he says. There's not a trace of emotion in his voice as his eyes sweep across the room. They rest on Valon. "Sometimes, we'll need to be able to defend ourselves and fight back."
There's a message to Valon in that sentence. Alister can hear it, and he knows Valon understands whatever it is that Raphael's telling him. The boy straightens, his gaze locking onto Raphael with sudden intensity.
"You raise a valid point," Dartz says mildly. "Gurimo, we have a gym here in this very building. I want you and your team to use the rest of the afternoon to assess their hand-to-hand combat skills. Anything goes, Gurimo, but I will ask that no life-threatening injuries be inflicted. Valon, I will lift your parole for this exercise only."
The sudden grin on Valon's face is sharp and frightening in how savage it is. It's a look that does not belong on such a young face. "You got it, Dartz," he says, his eyes practically glowing.
Raphael doesn't look very happy, and Alister falls into step beside him as they start out of the conference room. "You're letting a kid take on four adults?" he asks when they're out of earshot of Dartz.
"Outright telling Master Dartz that Valon's getting bullied will solve the problem, but it'll make Valon look as if he's cowering behind him and make him more of a target. Doing nothing will only allow room to potentially escalate the situation, to the point where he could get seriously hurt. This is Valon's chance to stand up for himself and to make a point."
"Then why do you look like you bit into a lemon?"
Raphael keeps his gaze focused on a point straight ahead of them. His mouth is turned down at the corner. "You know why Valon was sent to prison?"
Alister doesn't respond, waiting for Raphael to elaborate.
"He beat five grown men half to death. He put two of them in a month-long coma. I have to hope that this won't be a repeat performance."
…Oh.
Valon volunteers to start the sparring practice without any hesitation, choosing Wallet and his friends as his opponents. He chooses to take all four of them on at once.
He ends it in less than five minutes as the only one standing.
No one dies, and no one ends up in a coma. But Alister knows with full certainty Valon will no longer have to worry about anyone in Paradius hurting him again.
Just like Alister never directly thanks Valon for his help when he was sick, Valon never thanks him or Raphael for standing up for him. But Alister thinks that maybe the kid seems friendlier towards him, and at least he makes an active effort to avoid antagonizing Alister. Raphael patiently ices Valon's hands as the kid chats cheerfully While it's clear Raphael isn't fully happy with his own decision, he's relieved that Valon held back.
(Valon held back. Alister doesn't think he wants to know what it looks like when the kid pops the clutch and goes full throttle into a fight.)
Alister allows the camaraderie. It's not like he's being friendly by letting Valon get out some of that nervous energy, and as long as Valon doesn't push Alister's boundaries he doesn't care if the kid is warmer to him. Anyways, he only stood up for Valon because the kid is a Swordsman–he's more than earned the respect of his peers on that merit alone.
He refuses to entertain the idea that he stood up for Valon because he was genuinely angry at seeing him hurt.
It isn't a complete surprise when Alister is asked to go undercover at a charity gala. Valon is too brash and doesn't have the patience for events like these. Raphael is no less capable than Alister, but he is too recognizable in places filled with societal elite and the press. That just leaves Alister as the logical choice for Dartz's request.
There is one change, however: this is one of the few galas that Dartz is choosing to attend.
Alister doesn't immediately understand why. Kaiba isn't attending this one, so it's not something pertaining to Alister; while there are plenty of names on the roster he recognizes from other parties, none stand out to him to mark as a potential target. Dartz has to make public appearances every now and then to maintain his cover, but why he's chosen this party out of all the other ones remains a mystery to Alister.
That's not all that's caught Alister's attention. This gala is taking place the night before he's expected to be in Paris with his teammates. There's got to be a connection between the events, but Dartz offers no insight and Alister is only given the assignment to circle the crowd for anything of note. He suspects this is Dartz's way of truly testing his readiness after his brief bout of illness, so Alister doesn't protest.
Tonight, Alister is disguised as a server that's making rounds in the crowd. He will only remain for however long Dartz chooses to remain at the party. Once he leaves, Alister will follow suit; Dartz never lingers long, so he anticipates at least three hours and plans accordingly. He circles the crowd, listening where he can and gathering anything he thinks of note. He does circle Dartz, though never enough to get people to notice him.
Alister's passing a nearby table when he hears Raphael's name.
He circles back around, keeping casual even as he approaches the table again; it's a group of six, at a table tucked in the back. There's no one of note in this group, no one on the mental list Alister keeps to identify investors or supporters of Kaiba's empire. There's also empty water glasses and plates, and it's enough of an excuse to linger.
"—can't believe it's been nine years already," one gentleman is saying, heaving a heavy sigh. "Where does time fly?"
"Indeed," an older woman replies, thanking Alister when he refills her glass. "It feels like only yesterday we got news of the Harmonia sinking. My brother has a friend who lost his mother on the ship, poor dear."
"I think we all know someone who lost a loved one on the Harmonia," replies another man, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. He's slightly overweight and balding. "I know the anniversary is fast approaching. Has anyone reached out to the Allards in this troubled time?"
"No, they have enough on their plates as it is," one woman says, her mouth set in a thin and disapproving line. "They lost so much to begin with, and then their nephew…"
She leans forward as Alister starts stacking plates, and he keeps himself from leaning in with the rest of the table. She looks around her conspiratorially and continues. "Has anyone even heard from Raphael at all since he ran away?"
Alister almost drops the pitcher he's holding. No one notices him.
"I've heard rumors he's over here somewhere," the first gentleman says. "But as far as exactly where he is? No, I'm afraid no one's heard anything."
"I don't understand how he could abandon his family, after all they did for him," the youngest of the group says at last, huffing angrily. "It's bad enough there are families who lost loved ones, but you know they'll all look to the one family who had someone survive the accident for support! He has a moral obligation to those families, yet he just runs off? How is that fair?"
"It isn't, Gina, and you're right to ask," the second gentleman says, nodding. "He is the only one who could give those grieving families closure, and he's gone and run off. He's left his family alone with such a heavy burden."
Alister feels the beginnings of a very familiar wave of anger starting to rise. He's gained a grudging respect for Raphael, to the point he's almost forgotten about his family. He realizes that he's let his guard down around the other man, had even started to think of him as someone he could rely on, and it isn't until this moment that he's forced to revisit what he knows.
He got to me. Damn it all, his stupid act worked.
Another woman at the table frowns. "I know he's a troubled young man, but keep in mind all that Raphael's been through. It isn't fair to saddle him with such a heavy burden, either," she begins gently. "He's survived something that no one else has. Such a tragedy is bound to leave its scars, especially when—"
But Alister isn't listening anymore. Dartz is leaving his seat and shooting Alister a distinct look signaling it's time to leave. Between that and his renewed disgust and fury, Alister has no further reason to listen in this conversation. He takes the empty plates and leaves the pitcher, jaws clenched and gripping the china in his hands too tightly.
He slips out of the party the first chance he gets, shedding his disguise as he moves. By the time he's rejoined Dartz in the limousine, he's only got the server's outfit and the wig he'd been wearing left. He's clenching his fists tightly, feeling a wave of frustration and anger building.
"Is there anything I need to be aware of?" Dartz asks calmly, watching him across the limousine.
Alister takes a breath and counts to five. He uncurls his fingers just before his nails would have cut into his palms. "Nothing pertaining to Paradius, or Kaiba Corporation," he replies. After a beat, he adds a stiff, "Raphael's name is making the rounds again."
Dartz hums, but it's not a happy sound. He doesn't say anything for several moments, and Alister forgets his anger long enough to look up and study Dartz. The man's face is characteristically blank; once again, Alister wishes that he could understand what Dartz is thinking.
He's about to ask why Dartz had him sneaking around this party when the other man starts talking. "I appreciate your patience in waiting for me to give you your assignment. This is of high importance to me, and your report just now confirmed that I was on the right track after all. I'd rather this matter does not reach your fellow Swordsmen or Gurimo."
Alister frowns. "I've asked before if this was about Kaiba. Is it?"
"No. It's about Raphael."
Alister stills. His thoughts screech to a halt. "What?"
"There is a journalist that was hired to release an anniversary special pertaining to the Harmonia and to Raphael. Understandably, I do not want him being so widely publicized once again. I want all the information he's gathered retrieved. You are good at disguising yourself. While your voice mimicry is still developing, it is already impressive enough to where you can easily fool others."
Dartz reaches for a briefcase and opens it, holding a manila folder out to Alister. "The journalist in question has his office in Paris. This is who you are impersonating. Read over that file and plan your visit to their office accordingly."
Alister doesn't move to take the file. He's still trying to process what he's heard. "Y-You want me to go halfway across the world because of some stupid news story?" he asks, the beginnings of anger creeping into his voice. He doesn't know where he wants to direct his sudden fury, or why he's suddenly so angry. "Why don't you send one of the lower-level operatives? Better yet, why don't you make the prima donna go get it himself?"
"Show your fellow Swordsman respect, Alister."
Alister doesn't care. "Why isn't Raphael going for said tape?" he asks, a bite in his voice.
"Please use simple logic," Dartz says, sounding too patient. "Raphael's family lives in Paris. Though time has passed, Raphael is still known in the area. He cannot stroll up to a media outlet demanding that they not publish material about him, not when our cause relies on secrecy."
Now Alister understands why Raphael's been so uneasy about going to Paris, but his temper doesn't abate. "Yet you're sending him back to what equates as his hometown, where there's a good chance he'll be recognized anyways? What's to say he won't want to go back to the spotlight?"
Dartz gains a sharp and analyzing edge to his expression. "Raphael knows better than to draw attention to himself. In fact, he's not voiced anything that would tell me he wishes to return to public attention. Do you know something I don't?"
He could tell Dartz what he really thinks of Raphael, he could tell Dartz all that he's heard of him. Dartz must know something of the story surrounding Raphael, he's attended many of the same events that Alister himself has. But how far does his knowledge go? Does Dartz even know about the family Raphael's abandoned? Does he understand that Raphael is pretending he has no family left?
The memory of a gentle hand on his back and a low soothing voice stops him.
"No," Alister grinds out at last, his fists clenching hard enough at his sides to draw blood. There is a hard edge to his voice, and he cannot fully quell his anger at the situation.
Dartz leans back in the seat. "As for why I do not send someone else, that is easily answered. I do not trust anyone else. In his enthusiasm for the…sparring lesson, Valon has taken out the only other people I could spare for this task. I know your capabilities, Alister, and I trust you to handle this discreetly."
This does not help Alister's temper—if anything, it only makes him angrier. If he hadn't gotten tangled up in Valon's nonsense, this wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't have to be sent on what equated to a pointless errand, for the sake of something that isn't even his concern, for someone that he doesn't even like.
"Alister?"
"I understand, sir." Alister's voice is barely level, and he doesn't trust himself to say more than that.
Dartz dips his head. "I want you to review the material when you get it, at first opportunity. If it is material pertaining to Raphael, it needs to be destroyed. I would strongly prefer that Raphael does not learn of what you're doing. That is all, Alister."
Alister snatches the folder out of Dartz's hand, glaring out into the darkness.
Nothing further is said.
His fury at the situation does not subside by the time he returns to the beach house. He ignores the greetings from Raphael and Valon altogether, glaring at them before he retreats to his room.
"Wha's got Alister all ticked?" he hears Valon ask as he goes up the stairs.
"I don't know, but I think it best if we leave him alone for now," Raphael replies. Alister feels Raphael's confused frown on his back as he leaves them behind, but he doesn't turn around once.
It takes an hour for Alister to calm down enough to study the folder he's been given. It's easy enough, the man in question has the most generic features in the world and Alister isn't worried that he can't pull it off. The phone number attached links him to a message machine; it won't require too much to memorize the tones and inflections he needs to pull this off.
But it's such a waste of his talents, even if it's being proposed as practice for when he goes after Kaiba. He doesn't want anything to do with Raphael, or his family, or whatever else the media wants with Raphael. It's an unnecessary distraction from what Alister is here to do, and he's furious.
Sleep is long in coming that night.