by Silas Vale
The cop's face turned sympathetic as a police car rolled off into the distance. Its sirens could be heard blaring as it pulled away.
"Ma'am, I understand that these are special circumstances, but you must understand. Blake Medea snuck into the hospital and down into a restricted area without a permit, and then defiled a body. Even if the man she defiled is now…"
He choked on the word "alive". The discrimination was already beginning.
"We can't just ignore the fact that she committed a crime. The statute of limitations would normally be up, had the prime minister not gotten rid of all statutes three years ago."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"What am I supposed to do? Ignore a crime? I will take your case about your partner, but I can't do anything about Blake."
Willow stared at him for a moment angrily before she whipped around. She grabbed her laptop bag, wiping away the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. "Come on. We're going." She tugged on Nych's arm and then stormed out of the building and towards her car. Any desire she had to take her case to the police had vanished, because she simply had no faith in them anymore. And why would she?
Apparently morality didn't always align with legality.
She walked over to her car, whipping the door open and sitting down as she slammed it closed. She tossed her laptop carelessly onto the back seat and then buried her face in her hands as she broke down into tears.
Old Charges
Blake and Terry got along famously, for the most part, and they had been talking for a good while before a knock came at the door. Blake looked at the clock; it hadn't been very long since Nych and Willow had left, so she didn't know why they would be back already.
Perhaps Willow had forgotten something.
"I'll get it." She muttered, getting up out of her chair and walking over towards the door.
She pulled it open, and to her horror… There was a police officer.
Blake wasn't exactly a wanted criminal, but she had done some things that were less than lawful. Therefore, seeing an officer always made her wary.
"Can I help you?"
"Are you Blake Medea?" The officer tilted his head to the side, giving her an inquisitive stare. He seemed to deflate a bit when Blake nodded in the affirmative.
"You're under arrest for the desecration of a human corpse. I'm going to have to take you to the station." The officer held a pair of handcuffs in one hand, and looked her up and down. "Please turn around and place your hands behind your back."
Terry, who was in a room over, quickly shooed the children away and walked up to the door. "What?" His brows furrowed in the beginnings of anger. "What the hell do you mean?"
"She is under arrest for desecrating the body of Nych Haywiyth." The officer looked to him indifferently.
"You have no proof." Terry snarled.
"Listen, I'm not here to argue with you. But for right now, she needs to come with me." The officer sighed. "Please don't make me add resisting arrest to any potential charges."
Blake's eyes widened as she looked at the officer, before she sighed. She held up a hand to Terry with a slight smile on her face, and nodded towards the kids. "Take care of them, alright? We'll get this sorted out."
She allowed the officer to cuff her, and cursed under her breath.
"Willow, I'm going to kill you for this."
She walked to the officer's car and allowed herself to be sat down in the back, before the man took his seat up front. There was another officer in the passenger seat, but he was obviously just there because the officers were required to go in pairs. He had earbuds in, and after a cursory nod towards his partner, he closed his eyes.
"Really think I look like the kinda girl to be into that freaky shit?"
"Look, I'm not picking sides." The officer shrugged his shoulders, starting up the car and pulling out of the driveway. "I just got sent out here, and I'm doing my job." He started driving down the street, hands leisurely resting on the wheel. "Look, just between you and me, I don't think your case will get very far. I read that file. It was fifteen years ago. Any incriminating evidence is long gone by now."
And Willow really owed her one, so she would probably get a lot of expensive help from her friend.
No doubt the poor woman was probably feeling like the human equivalent of a trash can at that moment.
"The only reason I'm even out here right now is because that damn prime minister got rid of anything regarding statutes of limitations. Hell, I didn't even do it, and now you're trying to arrest me after so long? Hell, Nych died like fifteen years ago. Why are you trying to arrest someone only after he's back?"
Blake was angry, but damn she was a good liar.
"I guess the police don't have much to do these days." She said, sitting back smugly and reclining against the door.
The plastic seat of the cop car was uncomfortable, but she wouldn't let that show.
The officer sighed when she wouldn't shut up, and accepted the fact that he would probably have to deal with her complaining the whole ride there. Hopefully, at the very least, Willow got her own case through to the police, though knowing her…
After this, she would probably rather die than talk to any of them.
"As I said, I'm just doing my job. I got sent out to do this, and I'm not going to back-talk my boss." He shook his head, and turned down another street towards the police station.
Blake grunted, giving up on the escapade of trying to look buff and rolling over so her hands were in the air. The damn cops just had to handcuff them backwards. It made sense, but Blake didn't care about sense in that moment.
"So you just go out and arrest people that you think are innocent? You contribute to the locking up of innocent people, wrongfully charged and slammed away?"
She sighed, gazing out of the window.
"Sounds like a brilliant job to me."
The officer was silent for a couple seconds, working very hard to contain all of the things that he wanted to say in response to her.
Instead, he stayed quiet, picking up his radio to give a quick update on the situation before he sat back, content to stay quiet for the rest of the drive. Sooner or later they reached the station, and he pulled up around the back of the building. He got out of the car, walked over to her, and opened the door. "Alright. Come with me. Let's do this peacefully, so I don't have to add another charge onto what you've already got."
The man really just needed a cup of coffee.
"I've been nothing but peaceful since you picked me up, officer." She said sweetly, getting out of the car as he closed the door behind her. "I've just been expressing opinions about our lovely little police force. You know, how they arrest innocents and all?"
She had started the lie. She'd play it to the end.
And she hoped that Willow's fat wallet would be buying her the best lawyer Canada had to offer.
"So where are we going, honey? I get my phone call, correct?"
The officer sighed heavily, obviously done with everything. "Yes. You get your phone call."
He walked her into the building and lead her up to the phones they had attached to the wall for that very purpose. "I suggest calling the number for your lawyer, if you have one. But this is completely up to you." He uncuffed her and locked the doors at both ends of the room, ensuring her privacy but giving her no chance to escape.
Blake did, in fact, call Willow. That bitch would get her out of this or burn in hell for getting her caught up in all of it.
Willow picked up after one ring.
"You bitch. You'd better get me the best lawyer money can buy."
Her tone, surprisingly, wasn't that angry. She knew Willow would figure out a way to get her out, so she wasn't particularly worried.
"I know." Willow sounded… Exhausted. "I'm getting it figured out. Dad knows a bunch of really good lawyers, and I just… Ugh. I'll get it dealt with, don't worry."
She would never leave Blake to deal with the m
ess she had created. She loved her friend far too much to even dream of such a thing.
"… I'm sorry." She said quietly after a moment. "You shouldn't have gotten caught up in all of my bullshit."
Someone felt guilty.
"Oh, shut the fuck up." Blake said, rolling her eyes. God, Willow was always so dramatic. It wasn’t like she could have pulled off her ridiculous scientific feat without her, so it wouldn't have done much good if Blake hadn't helped her.
"I really don't care how you do it, I just don't want to be locked away in here for seven years. That's the maximum sentence for this crime, did you know that? You bet your sweet, Scottish little ass that I'll beat you to hell if you get me locked up."
There was a black humor in her voice.
"So I'll see you at my bail hearing, Willow Grace."
She hung up the phone, and called back to the cop. She was done.
The officer came back in, glanced to her, and then towards the phone. "Alright. We'll get all of your charges sorted out, come with me. I'm taking you to a holding cell." He took her by the shoulder, leading her down another hallway and over to where the holding cells were. He unlocked the door to one and led her inside. "We'll come and get you once we get everything sorted out on our end." He locked it with a key from a large ring and walked off back down the hall.
"… Got you too, huh?" There was another woman in the cell with her.
She seemed to be about Blake's age, if not a few years younger. Her hair was cut short, and was dyed a brilliant blue in color, but her dark brown roots were visible. She was wearing ripped jeans and a white crop-top, and her blue eyes glimmered with mischief. Her septum, ears, and lips were pierced, giving the appearance that she was more metal than human.
"What did they slam you for? Bet it's not as interesting as mine."
Blake rolled her eyes, patting down her own pockets. The police hadn't even searched her, which was a huge violation of protocol, but she cursed herself for not carrying any of her things with her. They had caught her off guard, with her phone, keys, and wallet on the table.
She then looked up at the other girl who had spoken and took a good long look at her.
"You wanna bet? Mine's pretty golden."
They were up for an interesting conversation.
The woman snickered, looking up at her and leaning back against the wall. She seemed very casual about the whole thing.
"I made bootleg fireworks and blew them up in the backyard at my friend's birthday party. The neighbors called the cops." She smirked, and then patted the bench beside herself in invitation for Blake to sit down. "They probably think I'm a terrorist or some shit. I might be a little bit screwed." She laughed, apparently not caring very much for how much trouble she was in. She was either well-off, or just didn't give a shit.
"Come on, sit down. I don't bite." She cocked her head to the side. "I look like I do, but I don't. Promise."
In that moment, Blake began to laugh. She did, indeed, sit down next to her, putting her feet up on the bench. Her black combat boots banged against it as she did so.
"Yeah, tough girl? You think that blowing fireworks up is worse than my story?" She chuckled, resting her head against the concrete wall. It would be a long wait, so she figured she might as well tell a story to pass the time.
"Basically, I'm in here for desecration of a human corpse. I stole a brain."
Well. That warranted some explanation.
"You what?" The woman stared at her, and then sat up a little straighter. "No way. How the hell do you steal a brain? Why would you even do that?"
She crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at her in a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. Interestingly enough, she didn't seem too phased by the fact that the woman beside her had stolen a brain. "Are you like, one of those traffickers or something?" She raised an eyebrow. "Goes and steals organs and sells them on the black market? That kinda shit? I didn't even think we had that kind of thing in Canada."
Blake chuckled, shaking her head. "No, I didn't sell it. Actually…" She looked around the cell, trying to see if there were any microphones or cameras hidden about. She also looked out into the hallway, but there weren't any guards. Pretty shoddy job, actually.
Why the hell was the police force so… Lacking?
"I actually stole it for a friend. It was the brain of her dead lover, which she needed to bring him back to life."
Yeah. That sounded absolutely nuts.
"You know Willow Grace, right? The genius? It was her lover's brain. She put it into a robot and tada, it worked."
She stared at her for a moment or two and then scoffed. "You're shitting me. You can't stick a brain into a robot and expect it to just pick up where it left off." She nudged her in the side with one hand, and rolled her eyes. "You'd have to prove it to me. There's no way I believe that." To be fair, not many people would. Not until Willow went public with her creation, if she ever did. She needed some time to sort her own life out first.
It was getting better, but she was still in shambles.
"What's your name?" The woman asked after a moment. "I'm Octavia."
Blake scoffed back, looking the woman directly in the eyes. Her own dark ones bore into Octavia's, and she let loose a sly smile.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Willow's a bit more creative than many of us would like to believe."
It was actually the fact that they'd met a time-traveling guy from the future that told them that God existed, but she figured that telling this woman about him wouldn't get her very far.
"And I'm Blake. Blake Medea."
She held out a hand from where she sat, grinning. "Good to meet you, you domestic terrorist."
Octavia snorted, and then started giggling as she held her hand out to shake. "Domestic terrorist? Nice." She seemed to be in a pretty decent mood for being thrown into a holding cell at a Vancouver police station. "What does that make you, then? A gravedigger? Frankenstein?" She stuck her pierced tongue out at her teasingly, and cocked her head to the side as she ran her fingers through her tousled hair.
"So. You got a way outta here?" She raised an eyebrow. "Lawyered up?"
Blake thought about that for a moment, before she shrugged.
"I guess I'm more like Frankenstein's helper. Call me Igor, from now on." She laughed, a short, sweet laugh, before she answered the following question. "And yeah, Willow's the richest woman in town. She's hiring the best lawyer she can find to get me out of the mess she started."
In that moment, Blake realized she probably sounded like a snobbish prick.
"What about you? You have a way out?"
"Nah, not really." Octavia shrugged, and for the first time the slightest flicker of unease spread across her face. It disappeared as quickly as it had shown up, and she grinned to hide that fact. "I don't have a lawyer or the money for one, so I'll just take whatever the court appoints me." She shrugged her shoulders, pulling her knees up to her chest to comfortably rest her head on them, blowing a stray strand of blue hair away from her face.
She shrugged. "I dunno. Might do a month or so. Depends on how much shit they want to throw at me."
Well, Blake certainly was lucky to be friends with Willow.
Blake frowned. "You know… If they do hit you with something big, you could be here for a while. Like the detonation of a potentially deadly explosive? You could be here for a few years, Octavia."
She didn't know why she cared. She'd talk to this girl for a few hours while the courts worked out the bail hearing, and then they'd be done with each other.
Yet… Blake felt a strange attachment to this pierced woman in a jail cell. She reminded her of her older days.
"You can't scrape together anything for a lawyer? What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a bartender at a strip club." She glanced up at Blake. "Usually make pretty good money, but I got hit pretty hard with bills this month, and some asshole hit my car and I had to pay out of pocket, so…" She shrugged, and sighed. "I'm fuck
in' broke. Maybe I'll scrape some more shit together between now and my hearing, but I doubt it. Oh well. Not like I had anything important going on in my life."
It seemed like she cared a lot more than she was letting on, but she didn't want to work herself up about it. A good mindset, but probably not the best for the situation.
"Sounds like you're set, though." Octavia looked over at her with a wink. "You should give me your number. Maybe when I get out, I can hang with you and all your trafficker buddies."
Blake nodded thoughtfully, wondering if there was anything she could do. Maybe she could help this girl out, though she didn't know why she'd want to. She'd only just met her, and it was odd that she felt so strongly like she needed to do something.
"Maybe… I don't know. Things work in mysterious ways these days. Maybe you'll get off fine."
She didn't know what she intended to do, but she intended to do something.
The girl had heard out her crazy story. The least Blake could do was try her best to get her out of a sticky situation.
Octavia shrugged casually, lolling her head to the side. "Whatever happens, happens. Kinda my fault for making illegal fireworks and blowing them up in a suburban backyard." She hummed, pulling her hair back behind her ears. "Seriously though, you should give me your number. You seem pretty cool." She turned her head towards her and winked, a mischievous smirk playing at the edges of her lips.
… Oh.
"I might be put away for a couple years, but eh." She giggled. "I'll be out eventually."
It was in that moment that Blake remembered the party.
She receded into herself for a moment, simply so Octavia wouldn't see the emotional turmoil that had just been brought up. Emma was expecting her at that party, and Blake had planned to beg for her to come back. Now… It would just look like she was flaking again.
"I… Sure." She said, forcing out a smile. She'd work it out eventually. Everything would go how it should.
She didn't exactly have anything to write the number down with, so she just picked up a loose stone and began scratching the number into the wall.
