by P. S. Power
“Very good Mr. Tompkins. I think the agents can take it from here.” The voice held dry professionalism that sounded a little forced, which didn't make a whole lot of sense until the man gestured with his head toward the door, where the very last hold-out reporter stood with a cameraman and sound guy holding a funny looking parabolic microphone. It had a red handle and was clear plastic or glass otherwise, so it really stood out. Denis fought a smile and slowly let the people on the floor go.
Everything really was on video these days.
Well, at least he hadn't gotten into a fist fight. A good thing since his arm hurt again already. A dull ache, enough to remind him that going back to medical would be a very good idea. The vague outline of the splint on his right arm showed under the light blue of the jacket, ruining the line a bit. Truthfully he'd been surprised that Charlot hadn't complained about it to the Director yet.
Then, maybe she had?
The whole thing had been so messed up that it drained him of energy. Walking carefully Denis got himself back to medical alone, to find that Dr. Burrows had gotten off shift already and her replacement was some older guy with salt and pepper hair and a stern look on his face.
One that turned to mild panic when Denis gave his name.
His reputation obviously preceded him. The man didn't hesitate to treat him though, working quickly and not stinting on the drugs at least. The man kept looking uncomfortable, too much so just based on fear that someone might make fun of you or call you names.
Then it hit him.
“Wait, are you the Doc that hit me with that drug? The one that made me forget? Supposedly at least...” Denis felt himself tighten and the man stood back looking afraid.
“I... yes. You were hurting a lot of people and Proxy was about to shoot you, so I had to do something. I...”
Right, someone had mentioned that, Jay, if he remembered correctly.
“Oh. Well, thanks I guess. I don't want to be dead after all. A bit cheesed at the months of torture that followed, but that wasn't your fault. Still, better than being dead, right?”
The man didn't say anything for a long time. When he did speak, his voice had gone low.
“Did the others, Proxy, did they... hurt you?” The man asked quietly.
“Not him, the guards in holding. Electrical shock in an all metal room. Cold showers every other day, which weren't that big a deal, just cold and humiliating. Triggered flashbacks. Not fun. Anyway, what's up with the arm? Broken?”
The older doctor wore simple light blue scrubs, not too different in color than what he wore. Denis' suit had a little more smoke gray to it. More sheen too. The whole floor smelled of disinfectant and room freshener, the last a nod to some of the people with hyper acute senses of smell. That, or whoever took charge in that area really liked the scent of baby powder and apples. To him the place smelled like a baby had spilled their bottle of juice, but it could have been worse. At least the kid didn't have a dirty diaper. Denis noticed that the man had relaxed a lot after their little talk. He still seemed a bit like a stick had been rammed up his butt, but a bit less like he expected his patient to jump up and start kung-fu-ing his ass.
Which really was a little rich, considering the last time they'd met, apparently, the guy had handed him his own so hard he didn't even remember it two months later. Denis pointed this out dryly, which got a chuckle from the guy.
“I was led to believe that you might... hold a grudge. I... really, I just didn't want anyone to get hurt, including you. Proxy told me that if I hadn't acted... that he was about to shoot you at the time. I think he meant it.”
That... well, who could blame him?
More to the point... The fuck?
He really had been torturing a big group of people for some reason? That didn't sound like him. Not at all. Why? What had happened to make him do that? Make them all fall asleep so he could escape, that sounded like him, or even make them hurt if they accused him of being gay, back when that kind of thing bugged him, so like three days before...
But just to do it? And at a level that had people coming back at him months later? That didn't make sense. He hadn't even hurt Prophet Darren that much.
Doctor Clinton patted him on the back awkwardly getting his attention.
“Rest and no vigorous activity for a while. Again, it's not broken, but you partially tore a tendon, that's going to take a while to heal. You'll need the splint for at least eight weeks then we'll put you in rehabilitation for it, slowly, if you're healing well enough. I don't think you need surgery, but if anything else happens get with us here as soon as you can. I'll send someone around to your room at about nine to give you another shot. It should let you rest.”
Nodding, still feeling baffled about the information he'd gotten, that he was a bigger dick than he'd thought, not the medical stuff, something hit him.
“Wait, can I wash dishes, big ones, like pots and pans, do you think?”
“What? I'm sure someone else can do that for you... Short answer, I wouldn't right now if it were my arm.” The man gave him a wintry look. It kind of said “no shit a-hole” without having to insult the drugged man.
“Ah. Right. I'll think of something.”
Well, already dressed for success Denis swallowed hard and took the elevator to the first floor looking for Prime. When he stepped off the elevator he found the man, standing with the Director and Torque, a nice looking guy with a tidy mustache and business suit. Really, it was the look that Denis should have been going for before. He'd hoped the bow ties would look distinctive and manly, but that hadn't worked at all according to... everyone in the free world.
Torque was the Team One leader and dressed the part all the time. Standing off the one side was little Bridget. She stared at him and moved very conspicuously in front of her dad, as if to protect him from the dangerous Denis that had just walked up. Oddly the other two men did too.
What, did they think he'd come for payback now? If he wanted to hurt the guy he could have done it earlier, when he was already down.
“Mr. Tompkins... I trust all is well?” Director Moore looked at the bulge on his right arm. No worse than before, the splint fitting well enough under the suit jacket.
“Partially torn tendon. I'm on light duty for the next eight weeks or longer, so I need to find someone to take my place as junior pot scrubber on Mark's baking show. Prime already volunteered to help, so I thought I'd get with him on it first. I mean Scott. It's an actual position on the show, not just a one up, if you want it, I think we can swing it with Mark and the others. It really does involve actual pot scrubbing though, scutt work and such, even before the show, getting things ready.” Calling the man by name felt weird, but code names weren't used on the set.
The large golden skinned man took a few steps forward and rested a large hand on the Director's shoulder gently. His grin looked stunning, white teeth gleamed, suit fitting too perfectly to be allowed. Denis kind of hated him a little for a second, knowing that as much as he wanted to, he'd never look that good.
Scott spoke, his voice rich and happy, “see everyone? I could tell right away that Denis here wouldn't hold a grudge... I'm sorry about the arm though. I just grabbed and didn't think I was holding on that hard to tell the truth. Char said that she might have been a little unfair to you, later, after Brian and Karen spoke to her about the whole thing. I know she's sorry too. She can't say it herself, but it's there. Her first mode...” The man smiled again and shrugged.
Everyone got that kind of thing here, there was no need to explain it each time. Charlot Chambers' first mode meant she'd find it nearly impossible to apologize herself, most likely. This was about as much of one as Denis could reasonably expect from her.
The tiny red-head who looked like a child sized version of Rachel stepped forward and wrapped both her hands around the splinted arm. Gently. Really her hands cradled it but didn't go around and she had to reach up at near her own shoulder height to do it. Her face looked a little grim
for some reason.
“Really? No bad feelings? Dad didn't mean it, but sometimes things like that are hard to let go of. Is it really cool between you?”
That got a smile from Denis, a careful one. The little girl may be small, but he wanted to keep the arm, so starting shit with her wouldn't play at the moment, hands actually on him. If she planned to take him out, given how fast the girl was, that would be a really good starting point. Given how quickly she could potentially react it would be impossible for him to stop her if she decided to move.
“Hey, you know, water under the bridge and all that. Just, Scott, in the future be careful? Please?”
The girl let him go suddenly and smiled herself.
“Super! And you saved me too. I mean, I could have totally taken those guys, so I don't know what they were thinking, there were only a dozen of them and they were claiming I'd kicked the asses of like, sixty, but before I even had to stand up, boom, to the ground. Teach them to mess with us, right? From now on we should take you to all the press events. I bet Brian would like that. The cops always try to kick his ass and now mine too I guess, just for hitting a few of them. Man this is screwed up. They hit people all the time. Everyone always said that the police were the good guys, but that isn't true is it?”
She spun to look at the other three men, her back to Denis suddenly.
“Is it?”
No one spoke for a bit, they just looked uneasy. That was something Denis could see himself. After all, did they warn the impulsive girl that all men in blue were her enemies, meaning the next time she saw one she'd probably deliver more than a light kicking, or did they lie to her leaving her vulnerable to the real bad guys that just happened to have uniforms on? Not knowing why, he spoke for them all.
“Well, some of the police have been behaving badly and we don't know why. The easy thing would be to say they're all just bigots and hate us and some probably do, but there may be more to it than that. I don't know what it is myself, mind, but just because some of them seem bad, that doesn't mean all of them really are. After all... I just had it confirmed by a doctor that a few months ago I tortured a bunch of people even though I don't remember it. That... just isn't like me. I mean I may make someone hurt, but I try to save torture for people that actually deserve it and not draw things out more than I have to. Not really.” Denis shrugged, which pulled at his hurt elbow enough to make him stop suddenly.
“Maybe it's the same for some of the cops?”
Oddly enough the Director and Torque both nodded and agreed with him instantly, as if he'd said something brilliant. Moore even gave him a very considering look before speaking.
“Yes. That's... Very possible actually, now that you mention it. I'll be sure to look into that possibility.” The man smiled and took a few steps to the side and turned, his body blocky in motion, a professional look on his face.
“So Robert, it looks like we worried over nothing again. Well, part of the job I'm afraid. So, Scott, you'll work with Mark Steinberg on his program for the foreseeable future?”
The big man grinned.
“Of course! I would have been anyway. After all, who doesn't love a little me in their day?”
No one laughed but Denis. Prime winked at him. The man was obviously joking, but the others just seemed to think he was being ego driven. That was the other side of the first mode problem. Even when you tried to control yourself some people thought that you just couldn't, not ever.
Quickly enough they made arrangements to meet early the next shooting day. Hopefully Mark would be pleased enough with his replacement, since Denis didn't have anyone better to offer for the time being. A silence took over the scene in the hall for a bit and everyone left, finding some reason to vacate the now uncomfortable situation. Just standing around didn't help him any either so he took off too. Oddly enough followed into the elevator by Bridget Chambers.
Hopefully not to kick his butt for anything. Denis eyed her a little warily, but made himself grin.
The girl hit the button for floor nine, where he was going himself, making it glow a golden white and then stood next to him as the whole thing dropped suddenly. Just as it started to move she jumped into the air and appeared to float for nearly ten seconds before setting down lightly.
“The old elevators were better for that. I blame Lauren and Team Two for breaking them. It was all their fault.” This came out sullen and angry, hurt and bitter all at once. The girl didn't look at him as she spoke, instead her eyes locked forward hard. “They wouldn't believe me. I told them, but no one would trust me except Brian and they tried to kill my dad. Maybe mom too. And they were the ones that were wrong. Yeah, someone screwed with their minds a little, but they chose to attack on their own. I know it was a set up, but...”
“Um, sorry, half a year spent in a tiny cell means I really don't know what you're getting at. Is this about that big fight a few months back?”
Denis tried to look concerned and kind, and probably didn't make it. As long as it wasn't a sneer that would have to do, right?
“Oh, right...” The tiny girl looked at him for a second and then away as if in shame.
“Well, everyone else knows. Here at least. Some bad guys made a fake video showing my dad and me, um, and mom, doing sick things and everyone thought it was real. We proved it wasn't, but only after the huge fight, when everyone attacked us. Until Brian stepped in and made them all stop. Him and Hobbs from Team Two. They were the only ones that even tried to do anything.”
She shook her head and blew out a hard puff of air as the doors opened.
“No one wanted to take on Brian, because he never loses when he's protecting someone. Only once and that was before he came here. Hobbs actually stood up to Lauren over the whole thing too, even though he's a new guy. I only like them now. The rest of Team Two can go fuck themselves for all I care.”
Ah. Well, that told him a lot he didn't know. So when he'd been trying to mess with Yi that day... Fuck, how did he even live through it? Denis would have killed someone doing what he'd been, given all that, if he were Brian.
“Which one is Lauren? Is she on Team Two?”
The girl took his left hand and led him down the hallway toward the dining room. Apparently they were going to dinner? Almost that time, Denis realized. The small form next to him looked down again as she spoke.
“Level. The nine foot tall bug tank looking one? She used to be my best friend, until she tried to kill my dad over lies someone else told her. She wouldn't believe me! I told them all it was a lie, but only Brian trusted me...”
When they got into the room no one else seemed to be there yet. Denis examined the chairs, but all were pushed in, feeling awkward he held out his left arm.
“Um, Penny, are you in here? I...”
A voice came from the silver and metallic blue plastic box on the table.
“In the other room Denis. Everything OK? I heard that there was an incident earlier?”
“Nothing too major, just don't grab my right arm for about eight weeks or so and we should be fine. Remember that if you have to grab me or something, please. Left arm for the time being, or slap me in the head if it's an emergency. So, how are things going in Penny land today?”
That started a small talk conversation, that, oddly enough got handled pretty well. The trick, Denis found, had to do with asking polite questions and smiling a lot, even if some of the people were in the other room. Bridget didn't bring up her hatred of Team Two again even, distracted by the invisible girl. Bridget was apparently a big Penny fan, thinking being invisible was cool. When everyone else came in a dark skinned woman named Janine, the evening cook, started bringing out large bowls of food. Spaghetti night then. Ah. Denis stood up and started to leave suddenly, which got everyone to stare at him. The Director really looking concerned.
“Oh... Um, I really need to change out of the nice clothing before I eat red sauce, that's all. I kind of have to use my left hand for it, so you know, it's going to make a m
ess.”
Penny chuckled from the other room and Brian got up smoothly and walked with him down the hall. At first Denis wondered if Yi thought he was going to try and run off, but it turned out to be simpler than that.
“You'll need help getting your jacket off. I know this one firsthand. It will only take a bit but without help it's a pain.”
The guy was right of course, he did need help, but it felt awkward. Bad enough to need it in the hospital but in his own room? Brian didn't say anything, just got the jacket around for him carefully, then the button up the front shirt. The white t-shirt got changed for a Team Three workout one and sweats replaced the nice slacks.
The whole thing took about ten minutes and everyone else had gone ahead and started eating without them. The food was good, way better than what they got in lock-up. Not a high bar to move past, but he appreciated it. He also got to use a fork and knife, instead of just his fingers. After the meal he did something that he hadn't done before and went to the kitchen doorway.
“Um, that was very good Janine. Thanks. I should have said that before, since you always do a good job, but, you know, it's really appreciated.”
The woman smiled and patted him on the shoulder, a friendly gesture. She glanced at his right arm but didn't ask after it. You generally didn't here. Too many injured all the time, it would be the main topic of conversation if you tried.
“Why thank you honey! It's always nice to know people like your cooking.” She really did seem pleased at least.
Denis smiled and went to sit back down, since there seemed to be a bit of a meeting starting. Everyone moved out to the main sitting area, out past Christian and Jason's offices except Peggy. Maybe ex-prisoners weren't invited? Technically Peg still was one, but in name only. The Director waved to him gently.
