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fuckin-nancy · 4 years

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Refiner’s Fire

rating: T words: 3,134 characters: Jacob Seed, Joseph Seed, John Seed additional tags: pre-cult, child abuse tw summary:

After being taken away from their abusive father, 15-year-old Jacob Seed held little hope that the lives of his brothers and himself would improve. His suspicions are confirmed when they are thrust into the care of the Isaacs, a couple who treat them little better than slaves. Jacob bides his time, until the night he can finally set his family free.

[AO3]

Jacob watched fields and copses pass by with a sense of foreboding, tuning out the animated chatter of the social worker in the driver's seat. Jen, she insisted they call her. She seemed like a very nice person, but if the past few weeks had taught him anything, it was that he couldn't stand nice people, with their nosy concern and worthless platitudes.

She spoke cheerfully of the new life Jacob and his brothers were about to embark on. Occasionally she'd regard each of them in turn in the rearview mirror, her patronizing smile never wavering.

Neither of his brothers shared his feelings. Oh, Joseph was his usual reserved self, hardly saying two words together, but Jacob could tell by his rapt gaze and relaxed shoulders that he was content in his anticipation of what lay before them. John, on Joseph's other side, eagerly watched their passage along the highway and exclaimed at any grazing farm animals. As the youngest he was originally supposed to sit in the middle, but after begging his brothers to switch with him, Joseph had been all too happy to oblige his little brother.

"... Don't hesitate to call them Mom and Dad," Jen went on. Jacob gave a start, glancing at his brothers, but neither of their demeanours had changed.

He wanted to be cautious. He didn't want to get his hopes up, lest they be dashed yet again, and he especially didn't want that for John and Joseph. But it was getting harder to remain circumspect when this was the most carefree his little brothers had ever been.

"Looks like we're here," Jen said, as she turned into a long gravel driveway. In spite of himself, Jacob eyed the yard as interestedly as his brothers did. The house certainly didn’t look as nice as some they’d passed, but compared with the hellhole they’d grown up in, it was a palace. Chickens pecked at the ground inside their pen, and a few cows grazed in a nearby field. A sizable garden lay beside the house, and on its other side sat an old barn, its red paint all but chipped away.

Farm life could suit him very well, he thought.

When Jen smiled as his eyes met hers, he quickly turned away, suppressing a grimace. He had to keep his guard up.

John bounded ahead of them, down the overgrown path and up the creaking porch steps. Though it was late in the morning, curtains covered the windows, hiding the inside from view. Jacob gripped a garbage bag containing his and his brothers' clothes in his fist, careful not to let it drag on the ground.

"Can I ring the doorbell?" John asked.

"Of course," Jen said, smiling.

John glanced back at them. At Jacob's nod, he turned, and gave the button a pronounced press.

After a full ten-second wait—Jacob counted—the door opened.

"Why, hello there." The woman looked middle-aged, with heavily greying hair pulled back into a bun, and a broad yet angular face. Her smile didn't meet her eyes. "Are these the three strong boys I've heard so much about?"

Jen laughed. "Yes, Mrs. Isaac, I've brought your three strong boys. Is Mr. Isaac around?"

"Yes, he's just inside. Come on in."

Two things immediately piqued Jacob's interest: the TV in the living room, showing a baseball game, and the sweet scent of fresh pastry, wafting from somewhere farther in. They'd never had a TV in their old house. Who he could only assume was Mr. Isaac sat in an old, stained armchair. He didn't stand to greet them; he only muted the TV and turned to stare at them. He did not smile.

Jen and Mrs. Isaac did most of the talking, but it wasn't long before Jen glanced at her watch and exclaimed at how late it was. "Sorry, but I gotta run. I'm sure you guys don't need my help settling in and getting to know each other, right?"

"We'll manage," Mrs. Isaac said, smiling. Mr. Isaac said nothing.

"Don't hesitate to call the agency if you have any questions. I'll visit in a few weeks to see how you're settling in. Well, bye then!"

The door shut behind her.

Without another word, Mrs. Isaac swiftly turned away, going into another room. Mr. Isaac had already turned back to the television, the volume of his baseball game back at full blast.

Jacob and his brothers stood awkwardly, bunched in the entrance. Doubt etched itself onto John's face, and Jacob silently fumed. If these people hurt his brothers ...

Mrs. Isaac returned with several pairs of boots in her arms. She dropped them at the boys' feet. "Try these on, see how they fit."

John and Joseph immediately did as they were told, Joseph helping John to find the smallest pair. Jacob waited, though.

Mrs. Isaac quickly took notice of his inaction. "Well, Jake? Get to it. We don't have all day."

"Don't call me Jake."

"Pardon?" She squinted at him.

"You heard me."

The sound of squeaking springs tore Jacob's attention away from her. Mr. Isaac stood facing them. There was nothing striking about his appearance—he wasn't particularly tall or short, thin or broad, pale or tan. He stared Jacob down, saying nothing.

Gritting his teeth, Jacob crouched and began searching for the pair that looked closest to his size. One day, he told himself. One day.

Mr. Isaac returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.

The largest pair were a little tight, but they would have to do. John's were worse—they had to be at least three sizes too big.

Mrs. Isaac led them out into the yard. Not wanting to leave their belongings unattended, Jacob carried the garbage bag with him.

The midmorning sun warmed their backs, threatening an even hotter day to come. Mrs. Isaac entered the old barn, and the inside, though dark, was already as hot as a midsummer's afternoon. The faint stench of manure tickled Jacob's nose. John, always sensitive to such things, covered his nose and mouth with the top of his oversized T-shirt.

Mrs. Isaac seemed entirely unaffected by the smell. She gave the barn a quick look-over, then gestured to some shovels leaning against the wall. "You'd better get cleaning," she said. "This'll be your bedroom."

"Are you fucking serious?" Jacob blurted out.

"Watch your language," she said sharply. "I don't joke around, boy." She paused. "Well, what are you waiting for? We don't have all day—the chicken pen needs to be cleaned today yet, too, and dozens of other things need to be done besides." She left.

Joseph and John looked to Jacob, both stricken.

He wanted to rebel. He wanted to catch up to Mrs. Isaac and demand proper treatment. He wanted to take his little brothers and their garbage bag of clothes, hitchhike across the country, and fend for themselves until they found somewhere safe.

But the system wouldn't let them.

They couldn't run. They couldn't fight. So they'd have to bide their time, until ...

He sighed, taking a shovel. "We'll have to do what she says." For now, he silently added.

As the morning progressed, the barn only grew hotter. They found some old rugs, beat them to get most of the dust off, then lay them down as a sort of mattress. John cried, off and on, while Joseph remained silently morose. Jacob pummeled dust off the rugs with more force than was strictly necessary to vent his frustration. He hadn't known he still held on to a little bit of hope that the system could be good, could help to save his brothers and himself, but now, it was smashed to pieces even tinier than the dust motes that floated through the air.

Mrs. Isaac, exemplar of kindness as she was, brought them a lunch of raw vegetables and cold ham at noon. No sign whatsoever of the pie they'd smelled that morning. After, she made good on her promise of having them clean the chicken coop, and not only that, but feeding the chickens, mowing the lawn, hanging the laundry out to dry, weeding the garden, watering the garden, and sweeping the porch. It dawned on Jacob that she really wasn't kidding about there being dozens of things to do.

As Jacob knelt in the garden late in the afternoon, pulling weeds, Mrs. Isaac came out and, after a little deliberation, recruited Joseph to help her make supper. Annoyed that Joseph knew little about cooking besides the most rudimentary of basics, she all but dragged him to the house. Jacob half stood, wanting to stop her, but Joseph gave a quick shake of his head. Jacob reluctantly respected his wishes. He knew that for himself, he'd rather spend the rest of the week weeding in the sweltering heat than spend even one minute alone in that house, with those people.

After supper, they were sent ungraciously to bed, each given a coarse blanket and thin coverless pillow, with their only source of light being a single flashlight. John cried himself to sleep, leaning against Joseph. Exhausted as he was, it was only in the early hours of the morning that Jacob's fury ebbed enough for him to succumb to sleep.

It seemed like he'd just shut his eyes when Mrs. Isaac came barging into the barn. "Why aren't you up yet? I know you boys never worked a day in your life before yesterday, but even you must know farm work starts early."

Jacob wanted to ask, Ever heard of knocking?, but he wasn't in the mood for a fight. When they left the comfort of the barn, the sun wasn't even a sliver on the horizon.

Mrs. Isaac wasted no time in starting to teach them various farm chores, turning especially nasty when they weren't learning fast enough for her liking. After a vicious put-down for spilling a bucket of water, John trembled. Jacob silently took the bucket from his little brother, seething.

"You won't be getting any breakfast until all this is finished," Mrs. Isaac threatened.

It was like that for the rest of the day—they were only fed when Mrs. Isaac had deemed they'd worked hard enough.

It wasn't just farm work, either. Jacob got to experience life in the home first-hand when Mrs. Isaac selected him for helping her cook supper.

Not once, in the two hours that Jacob spent in the house, did Mr. Isaac get up from his chair in the TV room. Occasionally he'd call to Mrs. Isaac to remind her of something, or tell her to fetch something for him, which she would then make Jacob do. Mr. Isaac never thanked Jacob, or even acknowledged his existence with a passing glance. Jacob was almost shocked to have met a person even more worthless than his biological father.

Tasked with bringing Mr. Isaac's plate to him, Jacob spit into the mashed potatoes when he thought no one was looking, only to be met with Joseph's disapproving stare. Although he'd been planning to, he didn't do the same to Mrs. Isaac's plate.

That night, Jacob was almost thankful to be sent back to the barn, considering the atmosphere of the house. A blessing in disguise, it appeared, at least until a large spider crawled across his face in the middle of the night.

Jen the social worker never ended up checking on them, nor anyone else from her agency. Not that Jacob would have told anyone the truth about their situation, anyway. He couldn't trust a broken system.

Soon enough, they all started out at new schools—John at an elementary school, and Jacob and Joseph at the high school. Jacob hated not being able to check on John during the day, but he watched out for Joseph as best he could. Joseph seemed as much of a loner as he was; Jacob's classmates steered clear of him, which suited him just fine. He and Joseph always spent their lunch period together, never saying much.

Jacob sat with John in the garden on a mercifully cool Saturday afternoon, weeding yet again. Though it was his least favourite chore, he was at least glad to be doing it together with his baby brother.

Then came Mrs. Isaac's furious shout from the porch:

"John!"

John flinched.

"John!" She tramped across the yard, some wet garment in her hand. "What's this?" she demanded.

John stammered so badly, not even Jacob could make out what he said.

"You little jerk—don't you know you're supposed to wash whites separately? Are you some kind of retard?"

"It was me."

Her head swiveled toward Jacob. "What?"

"I put the clothes in the wash. My mistake—won't happen again." He looked her straight in the eye.

She frowned. Sized him up. Then said, in a quieter tone, "You make sure that it doesn't, or you'll be sorry." She trudged back to the house.

John didn't cry. He only kept on weeding, face expressionless. Jacob would've felt better if he'd cried.

There wasn't a muscle in Jacob's body that wasn't sore, but he pressed on. He worked mechanically, or at least tried to: break the ground with the shovel, scoop up some dirt, lift it to the wheelbarrow, upend it. His head was killing him—his throat, too. He knew he was sick. But he couldn't stand the thought of Joseph and John having to pick up his slack. They had too much on their plates already.

After yet another coughing fit, Joseph approached him, his thin face pinched with worry. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Jacob straightened up on wobbly legs, trying his damnedest not to show it.

"You're sick."

"So?"

"You should take a break."

"I told you, I'm fine." He stabbed at the earth with the shovel, and the momentum was nearly enough to knock him over.

Joseph, of course, didn't miss it. "No, you're not fine. You need to rest. I can finish it later if she thinks it needs to be done now."

"No." The urge to cough bubbled up his throat, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. He turned to dump the dirt.

He felt a hand on his arm. "Jacob—"

"I told you, I'm—!" Coughs exploded out of him. He couldn't breathe. He bent over, eyes watering, hoping it would end soon so he could get back to work.

Eventually it did subside, leaving him shaking. He reached down to pick up the shovel.

But Joseph grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing Jacob to look at him. "You're going to kill yourself at this rate! Can't you see that?"

Jacob stared. His scrawny little brother, with fire in his eyes. A night came to mind, so long ago—the night Joseph had convinced him not to confront their father. He'd had the same fire in his eyes then, too.

"You don't need to push yourself so hard," Joseph said. "You do enough already. John and I will be fine."

"Okay." Somehow, Jacob found himself stepping away—relenting.

Joseph may have convinced him, but he didn't have to like it. He rested for a week until he finally recovered, and hated every second of it.

It was the sight of Atlanta burning that gave him the solution to their problems.

He'd lost count of all the times he'd seen Gone With the Wind at school. Georgia just loved to toot its own mediocre horn. He chuckled at the memory of his father yanking him and Joseph out of the classroom while drunkenly prophesying hellfire for the teachers and students, though there wasn't really any humour in it. The good old days.

But this time, as he watched the greyscale flames flickering over the city, he suddenly knew exactly what he had to do in order to save his little brothers.

That night, Jacob didn't sleep. He waited.

When he was certain John and Joseph were asleep, he crept to the door, and opened it just a crack. The house was dark.

He slowly made his way to the shed, careful to stay in the deepest shadows. Once he reached it, he found the gasoline canister just inside, right where he'd left it.

Upon his return to the barn, he silently woke his brothers. John rubbed his eyes, groggy and confused, but Joseph took one look at the bright red canister in Jacob's hand, just barely illuminated by the moonlight spilling in from the open door, then led John out, blankets draped over their shoulders like mangy capes. Jacob was pleasantly surprised that Joseph wasn't going to try to stop him.

He poured gasoline over everything, though he made sure to only use about a third of the canister: he wasn't done with it yet. As he exited, he pulled a box of matches from his pocket, pilfered from one of his classmates.

He lit a match. Threw it into the barn. Poof—up went the flames.

After releasing the cows from their stable and the chickens from their coop, he lit those on fire, too. The canister now depleted, he chucked it. He picked up an axe handle.

Finally came Mrs. Isaac's shrieks from the house. Half a minute later Mr. Isaac shambled out the front door, still in his pajamas, so distracted by the inferno that he didn't even notice Jacob until he bumped against his shoulder. "What the hell—"

Five consecutive hits with the axe handle, and Mr. Isaac was down. Jacob gave him a couple more for good measure.

As he stood over the groaning man, Jacob was struck by just how weak he was. Jacob could've easily done this on the first day. He'd just built Mr. Isaac up in his mind as an untouchable giant, one he couldn't dare disobey, because that's what the system had taught him—that adults had intrinsic power over him.

One look at Mrs. Isaac had her squealing, running off into the night.

At that point, Jacob figured he may as well burn the rest, too. He didn't have any more gasoline, but he still had plenty of matches. Up in flames went the house, the shed, the truck, the car.

Until finally he joined his brothers, huddled together, watching the flames. They sat in comfortable silence for hours, until the sounds of sirens broke the night.

All he could see, all he could think of, was his little brothers. "I'll come back for you," he shouted over his shoulder as they pushed him into the cop car. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Whatever his punishment was, it wouldn't last forever. And once it was all over and he reached adulthood, he'd go out and he'd find them. Even the system couldn't stop him from doing that.

They'd be together in the end, no matter what.

#Far Cry 5 #Jacob Seed #Joseph Seed #John Seed #//#child abuse tw #my writing

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pastelgrungewrecker · 5 years

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Brothers and Sisters

You changed the melody every time [I would always change the line.]

It had been an outing like any other. QD and Chrona playfully whining about carrying the cloth bags they’d always used for groceries; Mimi rolling her eyes and taking as many as she could.

Chrona scrambling up onto her taller brother to ride piggyback wit her chin resting on his head.

And then, one day... Everything went wrong all at once.

QD shifted his younger sibling, the pair of them wiry as willow branches as they walked slightly behind Mimi- bags hanging from her arm as her free hand tapped out an answer to one of their collective parents- and then she stopped.

“...We should take a different way.”, she said, her voice low and tight as her eyes narrowed.

“What? Why? We always walk this route- been doing it for like. Years.”, said Chrona, confused.

“Is something wrong, Mimi?”, asked QD, his voice gentle and calm as it always was.

“Not yet but it could be. Come on- we’re taking the long way.”, she answered, her grip on her phone tightening for a moment before she handed it up to Chrona, “The second it looks like things might go wrong, shank baby, hit 8. It’ll call 911.”

Chrona blinked before nodding slowly- and that is the moment she and QD both noticed the group milling about a few yards ahead of them; milling about, and shooting glances back to them. Some of them wearing a symbol that was hard to make out from this distance, and QD’s grip tightened on Chrona’s legs.

Mimi nodded for them to turn around, “We’ll go back to the main intersection and go right- like when there was construction.”

“Okay.”

Mimi glanced over her shoulder as they walked, being sure to whisper directions to her younger brother as he walked ahead of her and carried their sister. The sun beat down, and Mimi felt a drop of sweat run down from her hair.

The buzz of a mosquito in the summertime heat.

The swat of Mimi’s hand when it bit her.

And the crack of something not a swatted bug.

“QUICKDRAW, RUN, NOW!”

Chrona swallowed her scream when the window beside them shattered; her mind flipping back through all the warnings from Brainstorm, from Whirl and Perceptor and Drift and-

QD’s grip faltered and she was jarred as he adjusted his hold while the soles of his shoes slapped the concrete.

Mimi felt the bags on her arm slamming painfully against her hips and thighs as she heard whooping behind them, a few screams. Another window shattered next to them as they ran before she bellowed “HARD LEFT!”

QD’s shoes skidded on hot concrete as they ran- and then he heard it.

Something fired. Mimi screamed.

Chrona’s voice, high and sharp as broken crystal, “MIMI NO!”

His heels burned as he slid in his shoes from the force at which he stopped; turning was in slow motion as a slideshow played in front of his eyes.

{“Crybaby, stop crying!”

“Aaaaw did somewun make da baby saaaad”

“Man the fuck up dude, stop crying!”

“Only babies cry, stop crying”-}

And every image ending with a familiar figure; A sideways ponytail, a frog barrette, clenched fists, strong legs with growing handprints on the thighs that he hid behind with his swollen cheeks, his bruised eyes, his bloody nose...

Chrona scrambled down from him when he finally faced his nightmare scenario.

“MIMI NO, NO LEAVE HER ALONE YOU FUCKERS!”

Conspawn.

Traitor.

He remembered those names whispered at Mimi once upon a time.

He remembered those names whispered while he hid behind those legs.

The world around them shattered like glass when there was another gunshot- when the sound of bones cracking as heavy boots and cleated shoes stomped down.

“KE-KEEP RUNNING BOTH OF YOU!”

Quickdraw ran.

His tears dripped for only a moment; and something rose from the bottom of his chest. He could breathe fire, he could spit acid. He swore in a voice given by a Wrecker who gave up everything but spite and charged forward-

Chrona followed with a bobcat’s shriek, aiming for the eyes of the first one she could get ahold of. Blood showed on suddenly terrified faces and then those faces didn’t matter. Quickdraw’s knuckles went numb, he couldn’t tell when; he only noticed when Chrona grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, trying to bring him back from wherever his head went.

Quickdraw shoved her away, whirling only to look down when something crunched under his foot.

Mimi coughed weakly, bruises forming from under torn clothing and her legs torn nearly to shreds from cleats and god knows what else. Chrona’s shaking hands mashed 8 on the screen of Mimi’s phone, and she all-but sobbed to the operator who answered.

Quickdraw fell to one knee, wide-eyed and scared as he once did- Red was blooming over Mimi’s stomach, and he felt his heart stop.

“Quickdraw nO-”

He scooped his big sister into his arms, calculating the quickest route to the hospital and hearing Chrona babbling into the phone behind him.

“TELL THEM TO GO TO PAPA RATCH’S HOSPITAL.”, he yowled before he took off, his grip on Mimi near-bruising.

His chest burned as he ran, his long stride eating the distance in gulps and he glanced down to see the red rosepetals spreading further.

“Mi-Mimi, remember when you tried to teach me violin?”, he wheezed, flooded with relief when she blinked and laughed weakly.

“Y-Yeah, kiddo. You... You always had trouble with the bow.”

“Always, yeah. Just- Just couldn’t tilt it just right.”

“Mmmhm...”

“Practice scales with me, Mimi. I can’t remember them, tell me the scales. Tell me the notes, okay? Just don’t close your eyes!”

She murmured notes, trying to hum the key but coughing when she tried. Quickdraw’s hands felt slick and he held tighter, skidding out onto the main road and uncaring of the fact he ran in the street.

“Tell me where my hands go on the piano instead okay, tell me where to put my fingertips Mimi but STAY AWAKE-”

“5, 4, 3.... 2, 1....”

His chest burned, but not as much as her’s did as a dirty shoeprint started turning red. Only a little more to go, he had to run harder-

“3...”

He could see the sign, the bright sign even in sunlight like a beacon of some kind of hope.

“2...”

Her breathing was raspy as she coughed again and it sounded like she was breathing water. Sirens sounded behind him and he ran harder as his eyes watered- tears or exertion he didn’t care, but he was in the parking lot and there’s the door.

“W-Wuh....”

He shouldered the door so hard the glass cracked and bellowed, “HELP, SHE’S LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS PLEASE, HELP ME SHE’S MY SISTER-”

His eyes locked on red hair and a coat with blue stitching, and he shrieked, “RATCHET PLEASE HELP ME, HELP MIMI!”

=+=+=+=+=

Back home, Perceptor felt a chill roll down his spine, and Drift stood up suddenly.

“They’re late.”

“...Very late.”

“DRIFT, PERCE, LET’S GO CODE RED WE NEED TO MOVE-”

Whirl filled the doorway, face the color of spoiling milk.

“QUICKDRAW IS ON THE NEWS, HE RAN MIMI TO THE HOSPITAL FOLLOWED BY TWO COPS AND AN AMBULANCE.”

They left so quickly they seemed to simply fade out of existence, the water still dripping from the kitchen faucet and the coffeepot not yet scrubbed out.

=+=+=+=+=

Ratchet looked up, and his heart dropped as Chrona stumbled in as Quickdraw stood like a mourning angel, Mimi limp in his arms and losing color and blood in equal measure.

Everything, again, happens all at once. Mimi is pulled from his arms, her shirt sliced open to show torn skin and an uneven ribcage as she’s layed on a gurney and taken down a hall Quickdraw can’t follow as an officer puts a hand to his chest.

Chrona grabs the officer’s wrist, “QD, stay with Mimi, I’ll give the cops the details. Go, NOW.”

The officer turns to Chrona’s tear streaked face, and she raises her hands with bloody nails on display, “I got DNA evidence for you. I saw everything, so let’s do this, Fuzzman.”

QD feels the dizzyness hit him out of nowhere as he hears doctors calling back and forth- he hears about broken ribs, he hears about bruises and welts and tears and “The bone is exposed, we need to hurry if we want to save her legs-”

And then Ratchet is there, Ratchet can make this all go away. Quickdraw feels hands on his shoulders and the world his spinning when his hearing goes tinny and his stomach seizes.

He’s bending over a trash can and he tastes sour acid and ice cream all over again.

“Get it out, young’n, you did good- you did better than good, Primus, you ran a full three miles top speed-”

QD’s knees give out and Ratchet’s hand around his middle steadies him until there’s nothing left to eject.

He’s handed to a nurse, a soft nurse with doe eyes and curled hair and an accent he can’t place.

“We already made the call, okay? Your other dads are on the way, c’mon, we need to get you somewhere to sit.”

“Mimi-”

“She’s in the best hands we got, okay? She’s in the best place in the best hands but you gotta sit down, we can’t risk you passing out after that run.”

Chrona is there, then, at his other arm and the tears are hot on his cheeks as they are walked to a waiting area. The silence hurts and Chrona holds Mimi’s phone tight enough to make the case squeak like it’s in pain.

The world shatters when Perceptor barrels in, demanding to know where his children, demanding to know if they’re alright. QD looks up at Perceptor and Drift and Whirl- and closes his eyes when his shoulders shake.

“I-I ran, I ran as fast as... The ambulance was gonna be too LONG her stomach was bleeding her chest was red- she couldn’t stay awake, they’d beaten her to a pulp. They called her conspawn and they beat her to a pulp and I think she was sh-”

“They called her what.”

Whirl swore his hackles rose at the voice that rumbled out of Drift. He looked at the swordsman and murmured, “Breathe, hippy- we’ll address that later, right now I gotta get our son calm. He just ran top speed three fuckin’ miles.”

Whirl was kneeling in QD”s vision, reaching out and pulling the brother and sister to hi to hold them close and whisper in a voice they remembered from dimmer days and younger times.

Drift paced, Perceptor joined him in between staring at nothing and rubbing a hand over hidden scars.

It was ten hours before they were told to come back, back into the sterile halls with too-bright lights. Back to were Ratchet leaned against a wall and rubbed his face to stir the expression of anger and mourning all at once.

Perceptor ran ahead, good eye shrinkwrapped in tears already and immediately pleading familiar words.

“Ratch, tell me she’s okay, tell me she’s going to survive this-this, whatever it was-”

“She’s alive, don’t worry, just breath Percy.”, said the CMO, “She’s alive, I promise, I swear on my heart and hands she’s alive.... But she’s not in one piece. Where’s Brainstorm?”

Whirl strode up with Drift and the siblings, “He’s at the lab; no contact, volatile testing day so no phone policy. On the way here I left a message with his tech that Mimi is in the hospital, he’ll be here as soon as he can-”

“Call him again as soon as we get Mimi settled.”, said Ratchet, “We’ll need his expertise.”

“How is a gun gonna-”

Ratchet pointed at Whirl’s arm prosthetics, “We need a set of those, but instead of up to the shoulder- from the knee down.”

Stunned silence.

“She was shot in the back; we’re lucky it missed her spine- but it tore her up pretty bad. Her kneecaps were just shards of bone, the damage done to the tissue is....”

“They had cleats. I could see them sparkle- like baseball players; but some of them had boots with them.”, said Chrona quietly.

“Hiking boots or something like it, no doubt.”, said Drift flatly.

Perceptor shook, hands unsteady and eye too bright, “Where is my daughter, Ratchet. I need to see Froggy right. now.”

“Come on- I’ll walk you to the room. All of you, quiet when you enter. She’s not even a full twelve out of surgery. I don’t know if she’ll even be conscious.”

They walked in single file, like a funeral march- Perceptor in the lead behind Ratchet. The CMO led them to the elevator, nodding them all in as his ungloved and sore hand pressed the three on the screen.

The machine hummed and Quickdraw stumbled with a hand to his head as Whirl and Drift steadied him before Chrona could. She wrung her hands, chewing on her lips and hissing when her oversharp teeth nicked the skin.

Perceptor’s shaky hand reached over with his kerchief, dabbing at the red that leaked out when the elevator trilled quietly.

“Room 302.”

Perceptor bolted, like a spooked deer and all-but bounced off the door as he tried to force it to open faster. When a strangled wail oozed into the hallway Drift followed like a hungry panther.

Mimi lay on the bed- simply breathing. Machines around her like the Holy Grace in old painting and blood still on her face.

The blankets that covered her were flat from the knees down.

That’s when the clatter of someone in the other elevator sounded, and Brainstorm seemed to spill out in a flutter of labcoats and cloud-white hair.

Perceptor choked on his voice again, and Drift moved mechanically- almost a mockery of the trill of a heartbeat from one of the machines- to a sink. Folding up paper towels and running them under the water, he squeezed out the excess before moving to the bed.

“Oh Froggy...”, wheezed Whirl, “What the hell did they do to you...”

Drift dabbed at the blood still present on Mimi’s face and lips and froze when her eyelids twitched. Hazy eyes opened slowly, and she blinked once. Her head turned lethargically to see her family at her bedside, and her brow furrowed as Brainstorm’s eyes widened and a hand went over his mouth.

“Wh... Did I... Make it?”

“Yeah, you made it.”, whispered Drift as he continued to clean her face, “Now look at Percy, okay? Look at Si-Si while I clean you up a bit.”

Her legs twitched, and clarity drained into hazy eyes rapidly, “I can’t... I can’t feel my feet-”

“Look at me, baby, look at me while Dri-Dri cleans your face okay?”, said Perceptor weakly, “Breathe for me, QD got you to the hospital in just enough time and we’re all here, just focus on me right now, okay-”

“Si-Si why can’t I feel my feet, why can’t I-”

Perceptor put a hand to her cheek at Drift’s nod; now that her face was no longer bloodied but still battered, he stroked his thumb carefully under his daughter’s eye, “They beat you up real bad, li’l munchkin. They got you real bad okay? Before you look down, hold my hand; hold it as tight as you can okay? Whirl, Whirl come here- Birdy is right here too, okay? Now.... I’m going to move my hand, and then you can turn your head and look.”

Drift moved again, pressing a kiss to Mimi’s tangled hair as Perceptor’s hand dropped away.

She turned her face forward, and let her eyes fall.

“M-My...”

Ratchet moved to the foot of her bed, unable to meet her gaze, “They manged your legs from the knee down, we- You were bleeding out from multiple sources, your legs weren’t salvageable with the loss- The bones themselves were in too many pieces to even bolt together, and you... didn’t have kneecaps left.”

She was silent for a moment, tears spilling over her eyelids before she looked up to Chrona and Quickdraw, and gave a cracked smile.

“I-I guess we won’t be walking for groceries f-f-for a wh. For a whi...”

Her eyes screwed shut, and she sobbed once. She pressed back into her pillows as Brainstorm shoved his way to her side and took her face in both of his hands, “Shhhhhhshshshshsh baby, nono- You’ll be up and walking around in no time, okay? Me and Percy? We’re gonna hook you up with the COOLEST legs this side of science fiction. No tears, no tears okay? You lived, you lived and that’s enough, everything else we can handle.”

A phone pinged; Whirl checked his.

“Cyc picked up the other hellions from practice- I’m telling him to come here. The kids can visit a little longer before we head back.”

Ratchet nodded, and let out a slow breath as Mimi slowly quieted from Brainstorm’s promises, Drift’s careful if awkward half-cuddles, and Percy letting her squeeze his hands.

“I’ll have one of the nurses sign off on excuse notes for the rest of the week.”, said the exhausted doctor, “I want everyone at HOME. Curfews, check-ins, all of it- all of it until they catch the little fuckers that pulled this.”

Drift remained quiet until there was a knock. Expecting Cyclonus, Brainstorm traipsed over to the door with an annoyed hitch in his step, “...Uh oh.”

Perceptor looked up, “...Long time no see, Prowl. Magnus.”

Magnus nodded as he stepped in, ducking slightly, and Prowl followed. First mistake.

No one had the time to stop Drift as he pushed away from the wall and marched Prowl right back out the door with fingers curled in the officer’s lapels. A nurse yelped in time with Prowl’s swear as he was hoisted up enough for his feet tot dangle.

“They called my baby Conspawn and took her fucking legs, lackey.”, snarled Drift, “You better fucking be here with good news or this hospital won’t be able to stitch what little of you I leave behind back together.”

Magnus’s mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. He cleared his throat, turning to the others.

“We have apprehended the miscreants responsible for the attack. Thanks to Miss Chrona’s expert.... evidence gathering, we will no doubt be able to get a DNA match. One has already confessed, but the others are... being stubborn.”

“Keep us updated.”, said Perceptor coldly, “And keep Prowl away from us. You know he isn’t welcome around my family, Magnus.”

“Understood, Perceptor, my apologies... Miss Mimi?”

“Uncle Mags?”, she said, sniffing hard and wincing at the pain in her nose, “At least you’re on the case.”

Drift stalked back in, followed by a shaken and irate Prowl.

“And so is Mister Prowl. It’s a regular Dead Man’s Party.”

“Ah, Miss Mimosa- I see you inherited your father’s wit.”

“And his dislike for politicians.”

Whirl snorted, and Ratchet tried to his his grin.

Magnus shook his head, “Would you like me to let the boys know you’re here? I’m sure they’ll be worried, what with Quickdraw making the news with his sprint.”

“Sure, that’s fi- Sprint? His spri- HE RAN ME HERE.”

Quickdraw winced, scuffing his foot against the floor.

“...QD, Chrona, c’mere.”

Ah, the familiar stern Big Sister voice. QD and Chrona sighed, shuffling forward to sit on either side of Mimi’s hospital bed. She reached out, hooking arms around their shoulders and tugging them into one of her well-known bear hugs; slightly weaker than normal, but familiar all the same.

“Thank you.”, she whispered, planting a kiss on top of both their heads before she hissed a swear at the pain in her split lip. Quickdraw buried his face against her shoulder, Chrona clinging tightly to Mimi’s stomach as Magnus nodded once and shepherded Prowl out.

Cyclonus passed them, Dani and Kickback pulling hard at his hands and faces smeared in terrified tears as they tore into the room and scrambled up onto the bed. Ratchet called a soft warning to them, shaking his head as Mimi crooned to them both as they pressed their faces to her stomach and thighs and wailed their fears to her.

Drift moved to stand by Ratchet.

“...I’m staying here for the night.”

“...Not just tonight, are you.”

“Nope. I’m here until she goes home.”, said Drift quietly, fingers flexing as though he had some sort of claws, “Anywhere she goes, I go until I decide she’s safe.”

Ratchet nodded, “I agree.”

Mimi ignored them, comforting her siblings as Whirl snortlaughed and Brainstorm shook his head with hands on his hips.

Perceptor remained quiet, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and carefully put a hand around his daughter’s shoulders- eye somewhere distant and blank as he stared at the flat space below Mimi’s knees.

#pastelwrites #drift #perceptor #whirl #ratchet #brainstorm #fankids #crim is going to obliterate me for this #but i warned them i was going to write it #dont worry mimi gets hella hooked up by brainstorm #but she still has tiny feets like her dad

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sadaxfsd · 3 years

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avidbeader · 7 years

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Voltron fic: “Scattered” Ch. 23

Rated T. Genfic/no ships. S2 AU. You can begin at the beginning here or read it on FF-Net and AO3 when I get it posted there, probably in the morning. FEEDBACK IS WELCOME.

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <>

Matt lifted his eyes from his tablet where he had been texting with Mina, Lance’s sister. He was hearing all about the family drama after Lance had left again: dad shouting, mother and grandmother crying, his older brother actually trying to chase after him in spite of the media crews outside and Lance using his cloaking device to get back to his pod.

Gotta go. Mom just got back. I need to find out if she’s made up her mind about going back with us.

I can’t believe you’re even thinking about going back. It’s not like Lance, they don’t need you to fly one of those lion ship things.

They need all the help they can get. I can help run the castle, help with tech support. I want to be out there in the stars again, but on my own terms. Listen, I figure Katie will get back in touch soon. I’ll tell her Lance needs to call.

OK. Thanks.

Matt set the tablet down and began putting groceries away while Colleen continued to bring them in from the garage. He was drooling almost immediately at seeing so many old favorites.

He paused, one hand in a grocery sack and the other holding a package of Oreo cookies. He was still staring at the blue package when Colleen came in with the last armloads. She dropped the bags on the table and he jumped.

“Are you really going to be okay with going right back out there when you have so much to catch up on?”

“That’s the beauty of it, Mom. We can come back. The castle has this thing that the guys call wormhole technology. It lets you cross galaxies in a short time.”

Colleen raised an eyebrow. “So why did it take nearly two months for Katie to come back?”

Matt shrugged. “From what I’ve gathered, they’ve been going pretty much nonstop with this war until Keith got thrown back here—”

“Exactly! What if he hadn’t turned up here? Would you all have come back at all?”

“Of course! I mean, once Lance found Dad and me, there was no way we weren’t going to get back here and let everyone know we were okay!”

Colleen bit her lip and looked away.

“Mom, what is it? We used to go on travel adventures all the time. Why is this different?”

“Because we never traveled to a war zone?”

Ouch. Okay, yeah. Got me there.

Matt put the cookies down and circled the table to face his mother. “Okay. That’s fair. But, the castle is pretty safe. The lions do most of the combat—”

“Which means Katie is constantly in danger.”

“True, but it’s not quite as dangerous as you think. Katie told us that so far only Lance and Shiro have needed to spend a long time in what they call cryo-pods, these things that can heal really bad injuries, usually in a day or so. But in two months that’s only two cases of getting seriously hurt. Katie got a concussion at one point, but she was out of that cryo-pod in an hour and good as new.”

He could tell that this was brand new information to his mother; the set of her shoulders shifted up and her expression was almost intrigued. “That…is interesting.” She looked out of the nearest window for a moment. “And it’s really just the five of them fighting? No other…gunnery men or soldiers fighting from the castle itself? I guess all the fighting is in space, not on a planet?”

“Um, there aren’t any others. I mean, yeah, there were lots of us on board when they rescued everyone in the slave camp, but it’s just the five of them piloting Voltron. Coran and Allura run the castle by themselves. And that’s it.”

She jerked back to face him. “What do you mean, that’s it?”

Matt held up his hands, showing seven fingers. “I mean, the planet that the princess and Coran are from was destroyed. They’re the last two of their kind in the universe. And after Shiro and Katie and the others found the Blue Lion, they finally had enough people to fly Voltron and start trying to do something about the Galra Empire.”

“They lost…their entire planet? They’re all alone?”

Matt nodded, a little unsure why that fact had grabbed Colleen’s attention.

She refocused, looking at the bags still on the table. “Here, help me. Let’s get these put away and then find your father. It’s time to thrash out the pros and cons properly.”

<> <> <> <> <>

As Shiro went to the Castle-ship’s main entrance to meet the Garrison and Earthforce delegations, he noticed that there were combat robots positioned at regular intervals closer to the entrance. He had his helmet in one hand and brought it up so he could speak into the communicator.

“Coran? Allura? Can someone explain why we have training drones in the hallways?”

“That was my idea,” Allura replied. “I had Hunk and Lance help me amass as many drones as possible to station in the hallway between the main entrance and the A.I. room. It occurred to me that we might need a show of strength.”

Shiro couldn’t argue with that. As great as their technological advantage was, they were still only seven people…and four mice.

Does Earthforce know that yet?

“And Shiro, as soon as you’ve turned everyone over to Coran, would you position the Black Lion at the entrance? I do hope it will consent to judge Darzi if the assigned punishment from your people isn’t enough.”

Shiro bit his lip, since he was fairly certain that any punishment outlined by Earthforce’s legal codes would not be enough, especially for Allura. In the back of his mind, Black rumbled in agreement.

So you really can do that? See into a person’s…soul?

He felt a nudge from Black, asking permission for something. Shiro sent back confused assent.

Lean back against the wall.

Shiro did, realizing that at some point in the last day or so that their communication had expanded to include words.

Let me in, my paladin?

Shiro wasn’t exactly sure how this worked, but he concentrated on the bond they shared, trying to find a way to open it more. He could feel Black doing something similar, and then—

Black was him and he was Black.

Black watched through his eyes as the hover-jeeps approached. The figures inside were both people and swirling auras of color. Most of them ranged in shades of green and blue and gray.

Shiro looked down at his left hand. He also had an aura, an effervescent white with streaks of pale purple. It was like a cloudy sky with threatening thunderstorms.

He looked back up as the hover-jeeps stopped some twenty yards away. As one person moved to leave the backseat of the second vehicle, they revealed who had been sitting behind them.

The greasy brown of that person sparked a wave of nausea in Shiro. It was polluted, vile, corrupted beyond any hope of cleansing.

Three guesses as to who that is, and the first two don’t count.

It took a few seconds for Black to work out what Shiro meant, then the lion’s presence in the bond rumbled in amusement before turning serious once more.

When you have the opportunity, confirm to the princess that this creature will be judged.

Shiro felt Black withdraw, returning their bond to normal. He felt dizzy and shook his head to clear it, grateful for the wall as it held him up. He took a deep breath and put his helmet on. He didn’t think an ambush here was likely, but after seeing the sniper attack on Keith in his recorded memory, Shiro was taking no chances.

<> <> <> <> <>

As Black withdrew from merging with Shiro, he let one angry growl echo in his hangar.

Red, of course, had been eavesdropping. Her smugness spread through their connection.

Black acknowledged her. You were right. There is no question of his guilt. And very little question as to his sanity.

Oh, I know. And congratulations on uniting with your paladin. I was sure you’d be the last to do it this time, considering.

This paladin…is nothing like the other. Black growled again, remembering.

Red was quick to distract. I agree. All of us are in good hands this time.

<> <> <> <> <>

As he pulled the hover-jeep up to the massive ship, Iverson glanced at the figure waiting for them. He looked again, because it had seemed like Shirogane’s eyes were glowing. But then the former Kerberos pilot shook his head and pushed himself away from the wall, putting his helmet on.

Iverson looked down, letting the wave of shame run through him. Beside him, Benítez sucked her cheeks in, seeing the clear sign of distrust and acknowledging that it was earned.

As the black-and-white figure approached, Iverson took in his upright posture and steady stride. He had been so focused on Kogane and then reeling from the revelations that the Garrison team of misfits had risen to some kind of honored rank in an alien culture…he hadn’t spared much thought for his former star pupil.

The last time he had seen the young pilot in person, he was in rags, battered and scarred, and being treated like a prisoner. He had been shouting, desperate to communicate something. Iverson had followed the rules for dealing with potential alien contact, rules that were being tested for the first time. They had started their examinations, looking for anything that might be dangerous to humans. And when the one tech had discovered that it wasn’t some kind of armor over the actual arm but a replacement…he had followed the book again and sedated him.

But now, Iverson was seeing the full potential of Takashi Shirogane realized. The Garrison’s golden boy had been forged into steel through his travails.

As they got out, Iverson moved to be the first in line. They paused, looking at one another, and Iverson’s right hand twitched up and then back down when the expected salute from Shirogane failed to materialize.

He’s not my cadet anymore. He’s not part of the Garrison.

“Commander,” Shirogane greeted neutrally. His gaze shifted and he nodded to the person behind Iverson. “General.”

Benítez took over, introducing the rest of their party. When Darzi was mentioned, Iverson thought once more that a hint of gold flashed through Shirogane’s gray eyes.

“If you all will follow me, please.”

<> <> <> <> <>

Pidge was waiting by the door and waved as she saw Shiro round a corner. “Okay, places everyone!”

Coran tweaked a chair one last time and moved to the panel that controlled the memory display. Allura stood in front of her chair on the raised platform, a little bigger and more substantial than the others. It suggested a throne. Shiro and Lance would be to her left and the rest of the paladins would be to her right. Putting them at a higher level than the rest would emphasize that the delegation was in a place where they held only as much authority as the Alteans were willing to grant.

Below on the floor they had set up a basic layout for the court martial. The judge advocate and the recorder would sit at the center table. The prosecution and defense were set up on the proper sides. A row of chairs behind them were ready for the rest of Earth’s delegation.

Pidge took her place between Keith and Hunk. She reached over and grabbed Keith’s hand for a final squeeze. Allura noticed and copied Pidge, taking Keith’s other hand.

“No matter what happens, he will never touch you again. None of them will touch any of you.”

<> <> <> <> <>

Benítez tried to keep her gaze straight ahead and not show any nervousness—there were almost certainly cameras monitoring the hallways with these Alteans observing their every move—but it was one of the hardest things she could remember doing. Some kind of sentry automatons lined the hallway, taller than any of them. They showed no visible weapons but she could easily imagine those metal fists had enough power behind them to smash a jaw or some ribs.

The fact that the only movement through these wide hallways was their own made it that much more intimidating.

Shirogane led them into a room with more of the silvery-white walls and pale blue lighting. There was some kind of apparatus in the center, a raised round dais. Furniture was set up on one side, tables and chairs obviously configured to mimic a courtroom.

What was different was the long platform to the side with a row of people standing along it.

Garrett, Holt, Kogane, and McClain, like Shirogane, were in the stylized armor they had seen before. Benítez thought about it briefly: Kogane had been flying the red lion ship that matched his armor. They knew there was a blue lion ship and here was McClain in blue. She took one more look at the others. It was reasonable to assume there were at least three more of these ships: green, yellow, and… where was Shirogane?

The princess took a step forward. Today her gown was white with layers that fell like petals down her arms and skirt: pastel shades of pink, blue, green, yellow, and purple. Her white hair was piled high on her head. She began speaking in accented English, causing several of the delegation who had not been aware of her before to glance at one another. Had she really learned English from the cadets in so short a time? Was there some kind of translation programming happening?

“I am Princess Allura of the planet Altea. Thank you for honoring the Interstellar Charter of Cooperation. Your willingness will be noted should you choose to apply for membership in that alliance through your United Nations organization.”

Benítez swallowed at that. They knew about the U.N. and had not used that knowledge against Earthforce yet.

She had to do everything she could to get Darzi convicted. They could not screw this up.

<> <> <> <> <>

Keith kept his eyes fixed on the door as introductions were made, watching for Shiro. He didn’t dare look at the floor, which might be taken as a sign of fear or dishonesty, and he wasn’t about to look at anyone from the delegation and risk making eye contact with Darzi.

“Sam Perkins, witness for the prosecution.”

Keith heard that name and movement drew his eye in spite of himself. The medtech that had quite probably saved his life gave him a small wave and a smile. Keith nodded back briefly before returning his gaze to the door as Shiro slipped inside and moved to his seat.

A new voice broke in, General Caplan’s. “Please be seated. The court is now in session.”

Benítez read out the list of charges in her role as convening authority. Darzi’s lawyer entered the divided pleas: guilty of assault, but not guilty of unlawful imprisonment or attempted manslaughter. Keith kept his eyes on the judge advocate but could feel it every time Darzi stared at him. Red stayed in the back of his mind, ready to spring to his defense.

Benítez and the prosecuting lawyer were prepared. They had copies of every order Darzi had made, from asserting jurisdiction over Iverson to ordering the drugs that had been used. There was written testimony from his conspirators, looking to cut deals for lighter sentences in their own trials.

When Caplan invited the prosecution to bring forward witnesses, Benítez looked toward Keith uncertainly. Allura seized her moment.

“We do have evidence to offer on behalf of our Red Paladin. It is in the form of viewable memories that he recorded in a safe and supportive environment.”

The defense lawyer shot to his feet. “Objection! Inadmissible evidence!”

Allura looked down at him, her eyes wintry. “And how do you know that before you have even seen it?”

Caplan frowned but nodded. “Overruled. However, I do have a question on how we are to know these…memories…are real?”

“We have a demonstration that should be easily verified to your satisfaction.”

“And is there any way that these recordings can be shared in a format accessible to us for the court’s documentation?”

Allura glanced at Pidge, who nodded. She turned back to Caplan. “Yes.”

“Then please, demonstrate.”

“Coran?”

Keith watched, intrigued at the experience of seeing the memory broadcast around the room in such a way that everyone was looking through his eyes. At the same time he was going through the memory in his mind again.

Better keep my eyes shut for the others.

Red purred her agreement.

From his far left, Keith heard Lance mutter something. He picked up the word “showoff” and a hissed reply from Shiro. Whatever Shiro said shut Lance up.

As the memory ended, Iverson laughed aloud. “I will happily verify that this really happened. We can provide Garrison records of it if you insist, General.”

Caplan shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. The news of three first-year cadets breaking the record on their first try in the assessment sim was a big deal. Kogane’s name landed on the short list for possible recruitment to Earthforce’s Air Division because of it.” He turned to Allura. “I am satisfied. Please describe briefly for the court’s records what we will be seeing next.”

Shiro stood up. “The first memory shows what happened when our Red Paladin, Kogane, arrived at the Garrison, as agreed between himself and Commander Iverson. This was the point that Lieutenant General Darzi had commandeered the situation, as described previously in these proceedings.”

Shiro sat and Keith closed his eyes. Pidge reached over and took his hand in hers. He concentrated on the feel of their fingers interlocking. His ears picked up Hunk snarling under his breath, “Bastards!”

He opened his eyes again when Iverson spoke. “I verify that this is what happened.” He sounded a bit shaken.

Caplan admitted the memory into evidence, cross-referencing where it tied in to the prosecution’s records. “May we have the final memory?”

Keith felt his heartbeat rising and Pidge tightened her grip on his hand.

I don’t want to hear this, I can’t hear this…

I have you, my cub. Red began purring in his mind, drowning out all other sounds with her presence.

<> <> <> <> <>

Lance was fighting to stay still. He wanted to fidget, to let his heel drum on the platform or snap his fingers or something. The tension in the room had been building since the judge advocate had allowed the recorded memories to be shown. Lance assumed it was coming from the defense; Darzi’s eyes burned like coals and he spent long intervals staring at Keith. The defense lawyer kept plucking at his arm to try and get him to stop.

The first memory distracted Lance. He remembered this very well; he had been through the same sim the previous day and chosen the White Sands option, only to crash in attempting an emergency landing because he had used too much fuel in the asteroid belt. At the time he had seethed over the news that some other cadet had not only broken Takashi Shirogane’s record but smashed it by a full ten seconds.

Seeing the actual flight, Lance felt his jealousy of Keith surface for the first time in ages. Keith was focused, in control, communicating effectively with his crew, and obviously streets better as a pilot. Lance had been nervous and would not stop talking to the others, driving the comms officer to actually yell at him. The news that he had been placed in cargo class before the round of qualifying tests had finished had been an especially bitter pill to swallow.

But it was what everyone expected of me at the time…

Still stinging from the conversation with his father, Lance grumbled to himself as they watched Keith navigate the high winds. “Does he have to be such a showoff?”

Next to him, Shiro whispered sharply, “Lance! Stow it!”

Lance spent a few minutes letting his resentment bleed over to Shiro for defending Keith, like always, fueled by the judge advocate’s compliments. Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over.

Keith was sitting ramrod stiff, his eyes shut tight. Pidge was holding his hand and watching him, not even paying attention as the second memory began to play.

What the hell? Why isn’t he watching?

Lance looked up just in time to see memory-Keith pull a tranquilizer dart from his neck. His own heartrate jumped, the second-hand fear from the attack filling the room as they watched. Lance could feel Keith’s fright as he lost control of his body and tumbled forward.

Keith had been completely helpless, about to lose consciousness knowing that he was defenseless. Knowing from Iverson’s words that he was not in a friendly situation.

He glanced over again. Pidge still had Keith’s hand. Hunk looked furious. Allura looked ready to shoot lasers from her eyes and Shiro’s jaw was clenched.

Shiro cut his eyes to Lance without turning his head and he tried to apologize with just a look. Shiro gave him a tiny nod in response and focused forward once more.

“May we have the final memory?”

<> <> <> <> <>

Hunk was doing everything he could to try and stay calm. Keith was sitting right there, safe on the other side of Pidge. And yet seeing first-hand when he was taken prisoner and now nearly being killed was incredibly stressful. Hunk’s stomach was roiling and his thoughts were buzzing with the need to break some heads.

Yellow’s presence in his thoughts grew. Be calm. The attacker will be punished.

It still stressed him out, watching as Keith fought to breathe, as Darzi’s eyes seemed to descend into madness. It was only when the medtech got his attention and the memory ended that Hunk discovered he had been holding his own breath. He inhaled sharply and Pidge spared him a glance. Hunk huffed and nodded at her that he was all right.

At least until Darzi’s lawyer jumped to his feet.

“I find these ‘memories’ inadmissible! There is nothing here that proves definitively that they are Kogane’s memories. We can’t see anything that identifies the person! And in the second one we can’t see that my client’s hands are fully blocking his air, only that he’s trying to shake him off!”

Several voices erupted at once.

“Excuse me, you can see me in the first one and I know damn well it happened!”

“Of course he couldn’t breathe! Didn’t you feel him try to cry out? He couldn’t because he had no air available!”

“How do we know that wasn’t a hallucination from those drugs they gave him?”

“Order! I want order!”

General Caplan’s shout got everyone’s attention, but Hunk was more worried than ever. Darzi looked way too pleased that people were questioning Keith’s memory. If his lawyer demanded a cross-examination after all…

One of the people in the row of spectator seats stood.

“You want proof this is true? I can do that.”

Everyone turned to him and Iverson frowned. “Perkins? What are you talking about?”

The tall, lanky man looked around the room. He drawled, “If you need another view so you can see that it’s him, I got you covered.” He zeroed in on Coran standing by the console. “Hook me up to this thing.”

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <>

More to come!

#voltron #scattered by avidbeader #voltron fanfic #fanfic: voltron

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furiousconnoisseurcomputer-blog · 6 years

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cheap classic cars to insure for 17 year olds

"cheap classic cars to insure for 17 year olds

cheap classic cars to insure for 17 year olds

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I was looking online and saw something in my state for someone getting arrested for not having insurance. My car is insured, but the insurance is not in my name and is under someone else's name and they pay for it. Is it illegal for there not to be an insurance in my name as well?""

Will my car insurance premium go up?

I just recently hit a deer and the only car damaged was mine. I am covered under my policy b/cause I had comprehensive. Here's my question: Will my insurance premuims go up if I use the dealership's auto body shop and not the insurance company's auto body shop? This is the first claim I have had with this company and I have been with them for over 7 years.

Best way to insure my boots are kept in good condition.?

I just bought some nike hypervenoms and received them today. I just started breaking them in today by just walking around my house but I really want to make sure I take good care of them. I usually take really good care of my boots, but I just want some good tip and maybe some good product as well to use. I know my mom won't be happy buying me new boots after buying these ones, so I want to insure the longest life I can out of these.""

Why should anyone purchase insurance under Obamacare when there is no fine?

If everyone bonds together and refuses to purchase insurance under govt. intimidation this would be too large for the govt. to control and destroy Obamacare. Fine or not I will never ...show more

Baby not covered on partner's insurance policy?

Alright, here's my situation. I am on my partner's insurance through her job. Well, we are getting ready to start a family and our insurance will cover everything up until right after delivery. Since I am considered a dependent, and I am the one giving birth, the baby will not be covered. So, what I want to know is has anyone else been in this situation and how did you handle it? What is the best way to find individual, affordable, insurance for the baby? And in your experience, what is the average cost you pay? Any suggestions/help is greatly appreciated.""

Cheap car insurance places in michigan?

i am currently relocating and i need to find a very cheap insurance for my husband asap. he is 21 clean record and doesn't have much of a credit started. does anyone know what car insurance places that would be cheap less than 150 a month i know it varies for different people but I'm stuck and need a few ideas.

Motorcycles and insurance?

right now i have a bull blast and i want to upgrade to a faster bike that is better above 60 mph and riding 2 up. the problem for me is that i am 19 and insurance for me with the little buell is 200/yr. i want to get a gsxr 600 or a 600 ss but they are over 600/yr and thats too much. the only bikes that are still in the lower insurance bracket is a ninja 500 and 650 or an sv650. are there any other bikes that are cheap on insurance? or what are your opinions on these bikes?

How to get cheaper car insurance?

I haven't yet passed my test, or even got a car, but was just researching to see if i could afford it. and the cheapest I could find was 3,000 a year which is impossible for me seeing as I'm at college. I was just wondering does anyone know of cheap places? or ways to cut it down by a bit? I have no one else in my house who drives, or even owns a car. thank you""

What type of car would have the cheapest insurance? Over 25 but 2 dui's... I know... stupid...?

I just got my release for my license back and am looking for a new used car. I'm also trying to keep the insurance price down (I'm sure like everyone). Any suggestions on a type of car or insurance company that would be good to use please let me know. thnx

Do I really need Car Insurance?

I live in Kentucky. My car is not drivable at the moment and has not been for months. Since I can't even drive the piece of ****, do I even need Insurance? I'm paying to much for it anyway and I don't think I should be paying for something I'm not driving!""

When is the right time to buy life insurance?

My son is due on Valentine's Day. Should I already have life insurance, or should I wait until after I get married, which is happening on the 17th?""

Good deals on car insurance?

Ok so me and my wife have been insured by American Family Insurance and pay about $400 a year. My 17 year old son recently got his license and we want to add him to our policy. He barely drives (we only have one car), but we want to add his name just in case. When I asked Amer. Fam. Ins., they gave a quote for almost $1000 a year, which is more than double the amount I'm currently paying!! And that's with the Good Student Discount as well!! I was wondering if any of you guys know a reliable company that could provide a cheaper rate.""

Cheap car insurance?????????

Hi I'm a 22 year old male I passed my test 7 1/2 months ago I got my first car it's a ford escort 1.6 yr 1999 does any one know where I can get really cheap car insurance as it will only be used to take my two kids to school thank a lot.................

Give me a genral idea of how much car insurance would cost me?

Well cost my parents. I'll be sixteen this April but I won't be getting my license until July. I want to get a Mustang GT 2005 or 2006 but I think it somewhat falls into a category of a sports car so it raises the insurance right? What would be the difference between me driving that or a 2003 BMW? Oh and is there a difference between driving insurance and car insurance? Thank you so much! (And for the record I'm not some spoiled kid, I've been saving for this car for a very long time with money from my lifegaurding job)""

Is car insurance cheaper for older vehicles?

Well i have a 2007 Nissan Altima and i pay $116.67/month, and i was wanting to by an older camper van to live in. Would my insurance be cheaper on the van?""

cheap classic cars to insure for 17 year olds

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/does-anybody-have-clue-car-insurance-florida-cheaper-tyler-brewer/"

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