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daughter-of-melpomene · 5 months

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𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦

In celebration of the @infamous-if update today, I thought I would provide you all with a look at my various OCs for it! I decided to be extra and create a different main character for the four ROs I liked and play through with each of them (which if you know me at all is very on brand since I am indecisive as all hell), but honestly I love these babes too much to let them live in my head so now I'm gonna tell you all about them! I probably won't make actual intro posts for any of them (unless you guys want me to, wink wink), but for now enjoy these little rambles, and feel free to ask any questions about them you want!!

WILLOW HARRINGTON:

— Stage name is Willow Rose; she/they Seven ship.

— Lead singer of a country band called Whiskey Moonbeams; their music is kind of nineties country singer-songwriter vibes, with a bit of a modern female country kick on some songs.

— Used to be dating Seven, and voted to keep him in the band when The Vote happened; she's never stopped loving Seven and was devastated when he left and broke up with them, which makes pretty much everything about the Battle of the Bands situation a bit awkward, especially when she picks Soft Violence to ride on the bus with.

— A total sweetheart, very humble and compassionate and always tries to keep the peace (even when it hasn't always worked out well in the past), but also intensely shy and awkward.

— Honestly kind of freaked out by the idea of being famous and would rather stay playing tiny gigs for the rest of their career if she could get paid enough for it, but goes into Battle of the Bands because they would follow her friends everywhere.

— Mainly dresses in an academic style, sweaters and Peter Pan collars and the like; Rowan loves to call them "Professor".

— A complete bisexual dork who has at least a fleeting crush on all the romantic interests (except for Orion, because to her that would be kind of weird), but their heart has always belonged to Seven and she really hopes that going on tour together can be an opportunity to get back to what they were.

— Honestly they and Seven are going to be the most amazing exes back to lovers dynamic ever and I cannot wait to futher explore it!

ASTER ZHOU:

— August ship.

— Lead singer of a pop group called Painted Roses; their music has a lot of Little Mix vibes, with the occasional bit of pop rock influence a la Olivia Rodrigo's Guts album.

— An insatiable flirt of a lesbian who's always down for a nice hookup (and definitely not afraid to flirt with a guy if it will get her something) and is used to people falling for her charms pretty quickly, so when August joins the band and Aster realizes that they're going to be a little bit different she takes it as a challenge and turns the seduction levels up to eleven, only to realize at some point that, oops, feelings have gotten involved.

— The type of person who covers all of her sad and negative feelings with jokes and is literally terrified of being vulnerable, since the only person she was ever really vulnerable with was her former bestie Seven and then he left and will barely look at her anymore, so she doesn't trust anyone else, not even her other friends, really, to stay if she lets down her walls. But even so, she feels everything really deeply and has a habit of holding desperately onto old memories; it's why she refuses to cover her tattoo of Seven's initials but still keeps it hidden. (That's really why August intrigues her so much; they're cool and unaffected, or at least they seem to be, in a way she never could be.)

— Despite all that inner angst, though, she is still a chaotic, impulsive gal who lives to push Orion's buttons and would kill for her bandmates or anyone else she cares about, despite being shit at giving advice or talking about feelings.

— Craves to be famous more than almost anything; she wants her name up in lights, to perform her songs in front of a packed stadium of screaming fans, almost as much as she needs air.

— Always dresses very cute and trendy, with crop tops and cute skirts, but also usually wears looser clothing when on stage since she always has dance routines that go with her songs.

— She and August getting together is going to be so long and a bit awkward, but they will get together and it will be amazing, I can assure you.

ATLAS LEE:

— He/they Orion ship.

— Lead singer of an alternative rock band called Back Alley Idols; they're very Fall Out Boy-esque with a bit of Green Day and Nirvana mixed in.

— This poor thing falls in love with Orion within about ten seconds of meeting him, but not only is Atlas absolute shit at expressing his feelings properly, they struggle a lot with self-loathing, undiagnosed and unmedicated anxiety, and substance misuse (he's not a full-blown addict but they do use alcohol and drugs as a coping mechanism and to self-medicate which is. Not Great) which he knows Orion disapproves of, so they’re kind of in a self-destructive cycle of feeling like he’s always letting everyone down because of their bad habits but then turning to those bad habits to stop feeling bad and… yeah, it kind of sucks for both of them.

— However, he does eventually genuinely try to get sober and try and become a better person for Orion, and it’s hard but it works, and once Atlas is better they can finally admit their feelings for each other and get together like they’ve been longing to do.

— Seriously, Atlas is such a sopping wet cat of a person; they’re super insecure and anxious and doesn’t like himself at all and is always worried about doing something that will make their friends hate him, which usually just leads to them messing up even more (a prime example being picking to ride with Underground Wastebasket for the tour because he was desperate not to ride with their ex-girlfriend Seven, which then just got Rowan pissed at him for a bit), but they’re also really sweet and genuinely care about people and would do nearly anything for the ones he loves, so their friends and Orion love him and will protect them at all costs.

— Legitimately terrified by the idea of being famous and having everyone’s eyes on him all the time; it’s really only because of their voice that he’s the lead singer of Back Alley Idols, because they sure as hell don’t have the personality for it, and he only agreed to enter Battle of the Bands at all because their friends were so excited when the band got the opportunity.

— Always dresses very casually, but with a little bit of style - although style is subjective, and Rowan loves to tease him about all the patterned cardigans they wear and how they don’t really dress like the lead singer of a rock band.

— Like any MC, he doesn’t have a good relationship with their parents, but for him it’s in part because coming out to them as bisexual didn’t go very well, and to this day they still don’t know Atlas is genderqueer.

— I am genuinely so excited to get further into their and Orion’s relationship, because they’re just a little messy but so sweet and caring and I love them lots <3 <3.

ANA DELGADO:

— Stage name is Birdie Sage; any pronouns, Sebastian ship.

— Lead singer of an alternative folk band called Fae Forest - they’re very much a mix between Hozier, Florence + the Machine, and Marina and the Diamonds.

— Thinks Sebastian is super cute pretty much immediately, and finds him interesting with how out of place he is at the Battle of the Bands audition, so they have a bit of fun flirting with him in the matter-of-fact and calm way they have of letting people know they’re interested, but the more they meet up with him and Maya and spend time with them, the closer they get, until finally they have to confront the fact that the plain intrigue they had for him at first has blossomed into full-blown feelings.

— Ana is very practical, honest, and like August, doesn’t always show what they’re really feeling. Orion adores them for this, predictably, but it kind of frustrates the rest of the band sometimes, and this doesn’t always make Ana feel very good about themself. It’s just they way they see the world, through a lens of practicality and the most proper decisions to be made (they probably get it from their parents, they think), and though they can be friendly and cheerful with people, there’s still usually a level of disconnect from the person in their mind until they’ve known them for a while. And they can never turn that off, at least not fully, and they hate it sometimes.

— But despite all this, they have a genuine and sweet bond with their friends/bandmates, and even Orion; these are people who understand how Ana’s mind works and who they’re comfortable enough with to genuinely smile and joke with, who they’ve almost never seen like bugs to look at under a microscope the way they can’t help but view everyone else at first. (And since Orion’s mind works relatively similarly, they have a really good and mutually respectful dynamic going on.)

— Very indifferent to the idea of fame; they really want to share their music with the world, and they understand that fame will be a result of that and they can’t deny it has its perks, but they’re also not very excited at the prospect of winning BOTB and getting super well-known.

— Dresses in a very bohemian style: long flowy skirts and peasant blouses and homemade jewelry, the works. Pretty much exactly how you would expect the lead singer of a band called Fae Forest to look.

— Absolutely adores Maya from the first moment they take a picture with her, and wants nothing more than to be a good stepparent to her and take care of her when they realize they have feelings for Sebastian. They didn’t even realize they wanted kids before, but Maya changed that.

— Seriously they and Sebastian are the most adorable couple ever and honestly I will definitely write some actual stuff about them someday because I adore them already!

ALRIGHT, THAT’S ALL!! IF YOU WANNA ASK ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THESE BABIES, FEEL FREE TO SEND THEM IN!!

(Tagging @xoteajays because she’s the one who got me into Infamous in the first place, @ginevrastilinski-ocs because I know she likes it, and @luucypevensie because I tag her in basically everything at this point. <3)

#oc: willow harrington #oc: aster zhou #oc: atlas lee #oc: ana delgado #infamous ocs #infamous mcs #infamous oc #infamous mc

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greaserdemon · 9 months

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Frozen Wind [Artfight 2023]

Long overdue vengeance on Dels from Artfight! I had a mighty need to draw this fella, I love seeing more Infamous ocs, it brings back nostalgia ~

Artwork © Me || Character belongs to Dels - For their personal use only !

#infamous ocs #infamous #light conduit #conduit #fanoc #artfight #artfight2023 #teamvampires #artfight team vampires #humanoid #digitalart

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uldren-sov · 1 month

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Interviewer: Would you say you're independent?

Seven: *looks to MC*

MC: *nods*

Seven: I'd say so, yes.

#incorrect quotes #infamous if #Seven Lawless #back in the day?? tell me this isnt true #But honestly it can be flipped around as well #OC: Camy Rose

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capricule · 4 months

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get yourself a freddy krueger lookin' ass who will look at you softly like that

alternatively, baby felix before he dyed his hair!

#capri art #infamous if #infamous #seven lawless #infamous seven #oc felix

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sovhina · 10 months

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Alright let’s run this one more time.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spidersona #oc: octavia blackwater #I’m not dead here’s some content lol #here’s my infamous mc in the spiderverse style #infamous if #since it’s Octavia lma tag it lol #they/she #their spider is very much a work in progress I just wanted to be done with it lmao

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bunniebi · 2 months

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Seven @ the diner (+ my mc)

#this flashback story is soo cute i think!#its fun to read the times when theyre still friends in the past because that makes their dynamic in the present sadder <3 #sevens hair is shorter than i think its in the present bc theyre high schoolers...#infamous if #seven lawless #infamous #infamous art #digital art #infamous oc #oc - evan medina #look the perspective doesnt make sense everywhere so dont think about it <3

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infamoussparks · 5 months

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Chapter 2: Safe with Me

Approx. 4,000 words; 25 minute read.

“You! Stop moving!” Shit. Fetch tsked softly and slid her butt to the floor, sitting down and raising her hands in front of her in a show of cooperation and surrender. But her eyes were narrowed and hard, her body language not hiding the fight in her eyes. As the guard moved his attention to someone else, Fetch slowly placed her hands on the floor, the tiles cool beneath her palms. Her position wasn’t far off from where she wanted to be in the room and she still felt that she could execute her plan, which fueled her confidence.

Back within the comfort of her own office, Rosaline created a makeshift pillow using her extra doctor coat that hung on the back of her office door and laid Caly down on top of half of a fluffy blanket on the small couch she had in her dark space. Caly made no noise as she snuggled in and started to drift back into sleep. Rosaline covered her with the remaining half of the blanket while thinking to herself how amazing it was that kids could fall asleep practically anywhere so quickly.

“You poor thing. You’re exhausted. I hope your Mom knows to come back here for you. I hope she’s… safe.” The words felt wrong to say, as though it sealed an unspoken fate. Rosaline tried to shake off the thought but then a familiar chime rang through the speakers and she almost dismissed it… except no follow up announcement signaled that the chime was just a drill. The hospital had different sounding alerts and drills were run several times a month, much like a fire alarm being tested to ensure everyone knew what to do in the case of a real emergency. This particular alarm that sounded was for a full hospital lockdown so now Rosaline was on high alert, further spiked by Caly quickly falling asleep in her office.

“Caly? Can you wake up for a bit? I need to go see what is going on. Stay here and stay quiet, ok? I promise I’ll be back for you. See my badge? No one can get in here without it. You’re safe.” Caly was struggling to keep her eyes open, her lids fluttering heavily as the doctor gave her instructions. Within a moment after a nod of understanding, Caly was back asleep, the blanket pulled over her head.

Rosaline did not want to leave Caly here but instincts told her it was the best thing to do right now. She left her office, ensuring the lock clicked into place behind her and smoothed her doctor coat as she quickened her pace toward the Maternity ward waiting room to see what was going on.

The day had been moving along just fine. Patrol of the city street from the rooftops was often boring work but Fetch enjoyed her shift nonetheless as it gave her time to stretch her legs and run free with her boost of neon at her heels. As she was about to call it quits and head back toward the school to review lesson plans before her classes started, she heard a shrill alarm from a large building to her right. Hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of two uniformed men standing outside the main doors and Fetch grabbed her cell phone, sending a photo and a short text to Delsin and Eugene.

Recognize these uniforms? Alarm at children’s hospital. Checking it out.

She didn’t wait for a response before turning off her phone completely and shoving it into the back pocket of her ripped jeans, dropping into an alley beside the hospital and strolling inside without a second glance from the unusual guards posted outside.

Once inside, she heard the alarm again and heard shouting from somewhere down the hall before her. Fetch didn’t wait to see what was going on while running down the hall as quietly as she could, her neon extinguished but easy enough to summon should she need it. She ducked into a waiting room where people seemed to be crying and whimpering. She tightened her jaw when she saw three men, in the same uniforms as the ones out front, with large weapons pointed at the people who were all sitting on the floor. Some were crying and clearly panicked and scared while one of the uniformed men with a helmet on and tinted visor down over his face was barking at them to stay quiet.

Fetch dropped to the ground trying to blend in and started crawling toward the center of the room. If she could get there, she could get the jump on these guys using neon without the worry of hurting anyone beyond her targets. She’d also have a straight shot to the doorway behind the men–an easy way to evacuate everyone once they were safe.

Suddenly a voice seemed to pull her attention from the guards, “Fetch…? Are you Fetch Walker?”

It caught her off-guard and she spoke normally without regard for the caution of the space she was in, “Yeah. Who said that?”

“No talking!” The familiar click of a gun being swung in her direction had Fetch growl as her attention was pulled to the barrel of the weapon. The men were wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints on their shiny murder toys… interesting.

“Keep quiet. They can’t hear me. If you are Fetch Walker, please just nod once or tap your finger along the floor twice.” The voice seemed loud enough for anyone to hear it and Fetch was slightly confused as to how someone could be speaking to her but no one else seemed to hear it. She waited for the guard to sweep his attention to a now sobbing woman and she tapped her index finger against the tiles twice.

“Thank God. This hospital is full of pregnant people, newborns and children. We need to make sure everyone gets full medical care without interruption. We need to get this situation under control quickly.”

“What do you want me to do?” Fetch spoke again, causing the closest guard to turn his gun on her, pressing the barrel into her chest sharply.

“I want you to shut the hell up! Speak again and you’ll be too dead to regret it.” A muffled voice sounded over the radio system attached to the shoulder on each mans’ uniform and the guard turned his attention to getting that message understood. Fetch glanced around looking for the person who was needing her help, but saw no one seemed to make eye contact nor get her attention.

“First, stop answering out loud. I can’t hear your thoughts but I am speaking to you through my own. Please nod if this makes sense.”

Fetch turned her attention back to the three armed men, quickly studying the uniforms for any identification as she nodded casually.

“Good. My name is Doctor Hutch. We are under a lockdown. These men stormed our hospital looking for something called ‘Project 41 and 42’. Do you know what that is?”

The voice was coming in clearer now that Fetch realized it was in her mind and that was why no one else could hear it. It was a woman’s voice and it was calm and collected. It had to be someone in this room with her but Fetch decided to stop looking for whomever it belonged to and to focus on the task at hand. She shook her head slightly from side to side in a silent answer.

“No, huh? I have a sinking suspicion that I have what they are looking for. I need your help to get to my office and get Caly to safety. I’ll find you after the hospital is clear. Can I trust you?”

Fetch bobbed her chin in response, her jaw set in determination.

“Thank you. I’m going to distract the guards and slide you my badge. You’ll need it to get access to my office. It’s on your left just past the Maternity Wing, first floor. Take a left out of that doorway in front of you. I’m counting on your speed here… please no fighting. It will scare her.”

With another subtle nod, Fetch stored the directions away and shifted herself into more of a crouching position to give her a jump start on a dash once the badge was in her hands. She wasn’t sure how this mysterious Doctor Hutch would distract these no-nonsense guards, but she was here for a reason and apparently that was not to help the hospital but instead to run with whoever this “Caly” was and to get her to a safe place.

“I’m going to cut communication with you now. Once the guards are distracted, take my badge and go. I’ll find you!” Suddenly, Fetch’s head felt heavy silence as though someone had turned on the noise-canceling button of headphones she didn’t know she was wearing. She focused on the closest man before her when suddenly he dropped his weapon and was scrambling to pull off his helmet with a loud shout. The helmet clattered to the floor beside the gun as the man put his hands over his ears and screamed in pain and surprise. The guard to his right gave a glance to the guard just outside the doorway before striding over to the one screaming and reaching out to him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” As the second guards’ hand touched the screamer’s shoulder he immediately also started yelling and panicking, weapon dropping and helmet quickly being unbuckled with his free hand. It was during this weird show of invisible distraction, that Fetch felt something bump into her boot. She snatched up the mentioned badge and in a burst of pink and yellow, raced out of the room, heading toward the office. The final guard didn’t even have time to fire a warning shot as he was so distracted and confused over what was happening to his partners that he let Fetch go further into the hospital without a fight.

It took seconds for Fetch to reach the office and she shook off her neon and gave a look down the hallway both ways before placing the badge on the reader and unlocking the door. She slipped inside and the door closed, locking behind her. She didn’t know what this “Caly” person looked like but before she could start her search, movement to her left caught her eye.

A child was wide awake and had moved herself into the far corner of the couch, her pink blanket brought up over her mouth, gray eyes wide in fear and uncertainty.

“... Caly? Are you Caly?” Fetch reached out to the child and she shrunk further away. The neon-wielder paused in her approach and instead knelt beside the couch, holding up the badge beside her head.

“Caly, Doctor Hutch sent me to come get you. It’s not safe here right now and she wanted me to get you someplace safer. My name is Fetch. Will you come with me?”

Caly looked from the badge with Rosaline’s photo on it, to Fetch and after a moment nodded then stood up on the couch reaching her hands upwards. Fetch released a quiet breath of relief and stood before picking up the child.

“Listen, I’m going to take you back with me but we are going to run very, very fast. I need you to hang on very, very tight, okay? You can close your eyes. I promise to be careful.” Caly nodded again and buried her face against Fetch’s neck, squeezing her eyes closed and clinging tightly to both Fetch and her blanket. Fetch reached into her pocket and pulled out the emblem that Delsin had given her. It hung from a necklace chain, something she had modified it to do instead of being pinned to her outfits daily, suddenly thankful she didn’t have time to clasp it around her neck this morning. She left her emblem necklace on the Doctor’s desk before pocketing the badge and listening at the door. No alarming sounds were heard so she carefully pushed the door open and checked the hallways before leaving the office and racing off toward the emergency exit. Leaving through that door set off a secondary alarm and this one she recognized as one that Seattle Police would respond to. She hoped they’d arrive quickly.

“Should we go looking for her?” Delsin was pacing in the office, wearing a path of worry into the thin carpet below his sneakers. Eugene was perched on the arm of the red couch in the office, looking at his cell phone and quickly running through different apps and settings.

Eugene paused long enough to make eye contact with his clearly worried friend, “Her phone is off. We can’t track her, but we trust her. We know her, Delsin. She’ll be okay.”

“What if something happened? What if she–” Delsin was cut off by a burst of bright pink neon rushing into the room and slamming the door behind her. Fetch seemed to be okay as she leaned herself against the door to catch her breath. Her back was to the guys and Delsin nearly seemed to snap to her side with Eugene giving her a once over to check for any signs of Fetch needing immediate first aid.

Delsin motioned broadly, his voice raised in relief with a bite of anger, “Fetch! You gave me a heart attack! What the hell happened–”

“Shhhh!” Fetch spun around then to face her friends and that’s when they both saw Caly clinging to and being cradled by Fetch. Fetch looked utterly exhausted too, which was unusual for her.

Delsin’s mouth dropped open without a sound. His anger vanished in a moment seeing Fetch standing there with this tiny human wrapped around her. Fetch looked so… motherly. That was something he never thought he’d see with her, despite his brain providing him with plenty of what-if daydreams in which similar scenarios played out.

“Is she okay? Are you? Here, get her to the couch.” Eugene leaped into motion grabbing a blanket and moving a throw pillow horizontally on the couch. He was great with kids, mostly because he felt like he could relate to them. The teenagers at the school were more comfortable with Delsin and Fetch.

Fetch blew out a rush of air and moved toward the couch, sitting down carefully and gently running her hand through Caly’s hair, “Hey, Caly? We’re here. You did great. You were very brave.”

Caly blinked and looked around cautiously before releasing her hold on Fetch and slipping off her lap and onto the couch cushion beside the pink-haired woman. Her gray eyes studied Eugene who knelt before her and offered her a rubber duck he pulled from the window ledge behind the desk. Caly took the duck and held it. Delsin slowly approached from around the back of the couch and gave Caly a quick glance before locking eyes with Fetch. His ears started to heat up suddenly and he raised one hand to absently rub the back of his neck, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“There was a lockdown at the hospital and these uniforms I’ve never seen. I went in, but then had a weird encounter with a conduit who had telepathy, maybe? She’s a doctor… Here's her badge. She said the uniforms may be after Caly here. Asked me to get her somewhere safe. I ran all the way back here via rooftops with neon, carrying Caly, so we’d have less chance of being seen.” Fetch tossed the badge to Delsin who caught it with his open hand. After examining it, he passed it to Eugene who took it and held it.

“Caly? My name is Eugene. How old are you?” Caly gave Eugene a small smile, mimicking his own, before holding up four fingers.

“She’s four years old, guys. Seems too young to do any damage that would cause a lockdown.” Eugene stood and took the badge to the desk, opening up their shared laptop and setting to work.

Fetch looked at Caly and tried to piece together the puzzle she had before her, but she felt like she was missing pieces. Caly yawned and snuggled against Fetch, placing her thumb in her mouth and hooking the index finger of the same hand over her tiny nose. She pulled her soft pink blanket up close to her face with her other hand, the rubber duck falling into her lap.

“Fetch, I… “ Delsin started to speak, but the image before him seemed to be washing him in feelings he thought he had long since buried and forgotten about. Fetch ran her fingers through Caly’s hair, gently pulling at the hair ties and releasing the platinum blonde hair from the lopsided and wind-blown pigtails and into a mess of waves and curls.

“I’m sorry to worry you, Smokes. I just had this feeling… you know? Like when you are exactly where you are meant to be? I didn’t have time to do much else besides send that photo and text.” Fetch’s voice was soft, speaking more to the top of Caly’s head than looking at Delsin directly. She wasn’t avoiding him, not exactly, but she had a feeling this was going to lead into a different conversation if she didn’t keep it on topic.

“Yeah, that photo was a bit blurry but I’ve never seen those uniforms before. I ran a script on it to see if I could track any similar photos and only pulled up one posted late last night on social media. They seem to be a cross between police and some old D.U.P. looks, wouldn’t you agree?” Eugene was focused on the laptop, the keyboard quietly clacking away, the reflection of the screen visible in his eyeglasses.

Fetch turned her attention to Eugene and tilted her head slightly as though she was lost in thought, “... yeah, maybe? I dunno… they seemed so… crisp. Anything popping up if you search for D.U.P. or factions?”

“Nothing. Everything is just from seven years ago when they disbanded and shut down. It’s weird though… Did you get a closer look at the logo on the front at all? It was too small and blurred for me to make out.”

“An owl. It was an owl. I got close enough to take note of it. I can draw it for you in a bit. I’m… kinda stuck here for right now.” Caly had fallen asleep against Fetch’s warm side and her thumb was slowly falling out of her mouth. Eugene glanced around the laptop screen and smiled at seeing Caly so cuddled into Fetch, before nodding with approval at Fetch’s suggestion.

Delsin suddenly interjected, pulling himself loose from his thoughts, “What about that doctor? Anything on her?”

“Doctor Rosaline Hutch, CGC which is code for Certified Genetic Counselor. Fairly new to Seattle. She has a published, award-winning paper on the conduit gene and how to identify it. It won her a prestigious ASHG–American Society of Human Genetics–award and quite a large sum of money. Looks like she used some of that money to help expand Seattle Children’s Hospital.” Eugene scrolled through his findings, “No mention of any kids of her own, but she does have a sister who lives nearby. Is Caly related to her somehow?”

“I… I don’t know. She didn’t say. Just told me to get her out of there and keep her safe. I figured this was the best place for her. Doctor Hutch said she’d find me after the hospital was safe. I left a calling card of sorts behind in her office to help her track me down.”

Delsin shrugged, “Then I guess we will keep the kid safe and wait it out. We can question the doctor once she shows up.”

“... Will she show up?” Eugene peered over his glasses, his focus bouncing between Caly and Fetch.

“Absolutely. I triggered the main alarm for the hospital on my way out. The cops have gotta have things sorted by now.” Fetch shifted just enough to gently maneuver Caly onto the pillow beside her. She grabbed the blanket Eugene had set on the couch and shook it out before laying it over the small child and making sure she stayed asleep.

Delsin stepped behind the desk now and took over the laptop, typing something quickly. The laptop speakers sparked to life, relaying a live feed of a local news channel that was set outside the hospital where the reporter was explaining that everything was under control and no one was hurt. His eyebrow shot up and he glanced back at Fetch over the screen.

Fetch rolled her eyes, “The doctor did something to distract the uniforms long enough for me to grab Caly. I’m not sure what she did or how, but they seemed like they were in pain from hearing something only they could hear. But if the news isn’t reporting about the uniforms then we may have bigger problems.”

“She’s right. No mention of the uniforms or anything related to any reason on why exactly the alarm was triggered.” Eugene had seized control of the laptop again and his glasses reflected that he had already pulled up various sources looking for information before it was asked of him.

Delsin moved to perch on the edge of the desk, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he exhaled a puff of air. No one had a moment longer to think things over before a soft knock sounded on the office door, “Come in.”

The door opened and a female student stood there in the hallway before waving hello at Delsin and ushering over someone beyond the door frame. A woman walked into the office with the confidence and professionalism expected of someone wearing that doctor’s coat. Her hair was up in a bun, made slightly messy from the earlier events of the day. She removed her glasses and allowed them to dangle from the beaded chain around her neck.

Delsin stood up and dropped his arms before clearing his throat, “Thanks, Alessia.” He crossed over to the door and closed it, leaving the students to wonder about the doctor now in a meeting with the founders of the school. Fetch glanced over the back of the couch and Eugene stood from behind the desk, closing the laptop.

The woman held out her fist and walked toward Fetch, dropping something into Fetch’s outstretched hand, “Thank you for this.” She peeked over the couch and sighed softly in relief at seeing Caly there asleep. Fetch nodded and clasped the returned necklace around her neck, dropping the emblem into her shirt.

“Doctor Hutch, I presume? I’m Delsin Rowe, that’s Eugene Sims and I see you’ve met Fetch already. Welcome to our safe haven,” Delsin spoke welcomely though he had an edge to his voice that teetered on the verge of suspicion.

“Please, call me Rosaline. I’m sure you have questions for me. I don’t know that I have all the answers, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

Fetch was standing now, having walked around to the back of the couch and was leaning against it. She held the doctor’s badge out toward Rosaline who took it and dropped it into her pocket. Eugene joined the group and stood beside Fetch. Delsin offered Rosaline a cold water bottle from a tiny refrigerator beside the office door.

“We’d love to know what you know.”

#infamous sparks #infamous fic #infamous second son #delsin rowe #eugene sims #fetch walker #infamous ocs #doctor rosaline hutch #caly

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rogueshadeaux · 11 months

Text

Chapter Fifteen — A Surface Memory

I sorta froze; this was the history I knew. My life, the bits with Mom? It stopped here, on this page, and yet we had barely made a dent in the photo album. Why was the idea of turning the page so daunting?

Dad wrapped one arm around my shoulder, the other coming into view as it slowly turned the page.

5k words | 20 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Continuation on the mentions of loss, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Complications, Surgery, Drugs, Gangs, Terrorism, Mass Casualty. Not like, all at once or deeply described, but definitely mentioned. Imagine if that all happened at once, jfc

I turned the page again, this section surprisingly different; the photos were of Mom and some dude with a blue mohawk, all a bit rough at the edges; like they were old, but well preserved. Mom’s pink hair was still there, but she didn’t look as…edgy, I guess. Plain shirts and simple earrings and stuff. “This is Abbs and her brother,” Dad clarified for me.

Brent, the first Brent.

I didn’t know a lot about him at all. I imagine that was intentional, another thing Dad had to hide. “Did you know him?” I asked.

Dad shook his head. “He died before everything, even before your mom was a DUP prisoner.”

“How?”

Dad suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I…” he trailed off, biting at his lip. “Gang war bullshit.”

Oh.

I mean, Dad said Mom had a history with drugs and the Akurans, but were they actually involved with that stuff? Not just victims? “Your mom had a hard start to life,” Dad started gently, as if reading my mind. “Had to…run away when she was a kid, ‘cause her parents were trying to turn her in for being a Conduit. Brent had taken her and ran and they…well, they had to survive somehow, you know?”

“They were gonna give her to the DUP?” I whispered.

Dad nodded. “It was worse back then than it is now,”

And that’s saying something, ‘cause it was still pretty fucking bad.

But they bought into the propaganda and were actually going to turn Mom in! How could a parent do that to their kid? “Were they gonna turn Brent in too?” I asked.

Dad hummed, confused at my question before realizing what I meant. “Oh, no, Brent wasn’t a Conduit. Just Abbs.”

I knew there was some genetic explanation to becoming a Conduit; something about both parents needing to have a recessive gene — and even then there was only, like, a 1 in 1,000 chance of a child being a Conduit. The fact that both Brent — my Brent — and I were Conduits was a lucky draw.

Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.

“So he—“ I faltered, looking down at the picture of Uncle Brent using Mom as an armrest, sat on some kind of retainer wall. “He ran away with her? Or to protect her?”

Dad shrugged. “Both.”

“Oh, wow,” I whispered. He didn’t look that much older than Mom — he had to only have like, three years on her, max. And if she left as a kid…there was a good chance Brent was one, too. A kid, a normal kid, who threw away a comfortable life for his sister. But…when those Akurans kidnapped me, and I had those three minutes where I thought Brent was the only Conduit out of the two of us…I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same. I was totally willing to, in fact — it’s why that gun was on my temple in the first place.

I turned the page; this next section time hopped forward, summer on the trees just in front of the house. Mom and Dad were next to an old white truck, the back full of stuff covered with a tarp and strapped down. Next to it was Mom, a shaky shot, sitting reclined in an old leather chair, staring at a TV above the fireplace. “I was really excited to move her in,” Dad said. “Y’know, not just because she’d be there but…it was the first time she really had a home since she was a kid. She deserved something stable.”

Another page, and another flash forward; Mom’s brown roots were taking over her hair, and she sat on a bench at the patio of the Longhouse, leaned back, arms protectively caressing a decent-sized bump. Another one had Dad sitting beside her and they just…stared off into the Sound. “I managed to get Betty to sneak quite a few pics because—“ he motioned towards the pile of books on his side, “—you saw my mom’s stuff. She’s barely in it. I wanted Abbs to be in pictures more,”

Well, Dad had quite the foresight, then.

Next page was something Dad called a gender reveal, something that died off a few years ago. Not that there were many people in the photograph; I could pinpoint like, three of Dad’s friends I already met, some girls I didn’t know. That old lady that gave me pads was there, and one caught Dr. Sims hiding off on the side away from everyone else. They were in the recreational room of the Longhouse, I saw it when I walked by it to go to the bathroom. One of just Mom and Dad, a big group one, a few of them milling. Flipping the page came with the actual reveal, blue confetti everywhere on the wood floor beside Mom and Dad. “You guys really thought I was a boy,”

Dad laughed. “Like I said, Brent was the only one to ‘show the goods,’ so we had to assume.”

“That had to be a surprise,” I commented, turning the page to a baby shower feature. Everything was blue, including every piece of clothing they got.

“What?”

“Me, coming out a girl.” I looked up at him. “Was it weird?”

Dad chuckled. “Weird? No. A surprise? Oh yeah,” his laughter grew. “Your mom thought they brought back the wrong kid at first,”

“What?”

Dad nodded, flipping the page; this one was a selfie of sorts, Dad holding up a peace sign with Mom glowering behind him in a hospital bed, the captioning explaining something about inducing labor. “You’ve gotta remember; she had surgery. It…” the laughter suddenly evaporated. “This went bad. I wasn’t even allowed in when they wheeled her to the operating room. Just got shown you two before they took you to the NICU. She wasn’t awake to see you two come out.”

That shadow crossed his face again, that dark one when he was reliving something that involved loss. And I hadn’t realized it before, simply ‘cause I never really thought of it; if Mom had an emergency surgery, that meant it was an emergency. Could we have died, all three of us?

Maybe that’s why this page only had the one picture.

Dad turned the page again, two porty little potatoes wrapped up in white baby blankets, shoved under some giant warming light. They had tubing in their nose, wires sprouting from their blankets like growths on spuds. “Your mom…you know what a placenta is, right?” I nodded — I took health class. “She had an abruption. It…there was so much blood, and the heartbeat reads on both of you just took a nosedive. There wasn’t even any warning to it — one moment we were watching this zombie show and then she was gone for surgery. I only got a glimpse at you both before they took you to get oxygen.” He breathed shakily, rubbing a hand on his knee in an effort to rid himself of the nervous energy. “But after a few hours in the NICU, they figured you guys were okay,”

“But we did have to be taken care of?” I asked, pointing to the picture.

“For like, four hours. But I got to be there after finding out if your mom was okay,”

“Ah, made sure Mom knew her other boy wasn’t switched out.”

He smiled a bit. “Took some convincing but, yeah,”

There were a couple other snapshots of these little babies, barely distinguishable from each other. Funny, for a few moments, we really did look like twins; fat noses and fat faces and fat. Just fat. Was it normal for babies to look so squished? I was the slightest bit darker, that’s literally all that was different. That and the giant weird red mark on Brent’s forehead.

I turned the page again, greeted with the familiar face of Mom and Dad holding Brent and I, the same photograph Dad kept on his desk. The other page had some souvenir birth certificates from some hospital called Swedish, that same cursive on the wall in the nursery writing out my and Brent’s full name…with the last name Walker–Rowe.

“We weren’t always Rowland, were we?” I asked, as if the proof wasn’t right there.

Dad shook his head. “Your mom and I had a deal: hyphenated last name, and she’d be willing to change it if we ever got married.”

Rowland was probably a part of the witness protection program thing we had going on. Keep us hidden, safe. I definitely didn’t plan to ask, at least; the shadow was still on his face, and I didn’t want to make him spiral any further.

Dad wrapped one arm around my shoulder, the other coming into view as it slowly turned the page.

Mom was there, there for the trip home from the hospital and the Akomish Naming Ceremony, something Betty dressed up in full traditional garb for. There to hand one of us in a bundle of blankets over to Dr. Sims, there in the next pic laughing as he reacted to being spit up on. There for the sudden influx of pink clothes that she happily mixed with the masculine blues before forcing my chubby little appendages into them. There rocking Brent to sleep, there feeding me a bottle. Dad was there too, don’t get me wrong; there was a sweet one with him asleep on this very couch, me laid on his chest with some sort of headband-bow around my impossibly small head. But Mom.

Mom was there.

We got older, grew out of the awkward doughboy look and into actual, distinguishable babies. Brent started out blonde, surprisingly, and darkened rather quickly over the weeks. He matched Mom’s brown by the time he began pulling up to stand, propped up against furniture. I browned out a bit more from birth, never straying too far from Dad’s side once I started crawling. “You remember S’mores? How she’d always shove herself under our feet when we were walking in the kitchen?” Dad asked, and I nodded. I missed that cat. “You were like that with me when you learned to crawl.”

My cheeks heated up. “I was a bit needy, wasn’t I?”

Dad chuckled, “Oh, yeah,”

Once Brent and I got a handle on walking, though, the pictures changed drastically; anything with Brent always seemed to be mid-motion, snapshots of him running around like a miniature tornado while ones of me were more calm yet just as chaotic, on top of a kitchen table or under somewhere that looked impossible to reach. “You weren’t as energetic as Brent, but god you were a Houdini.” Dad laughed, shaking his head. “We had Betty babysit Brent once to just watch you and make sure there wasn’t anything Conduit you were doing to get wherever you wanted.”

I turned the page again, this time to one of me on the fridge. On the fridge, like atop it, standing in that space between the top of the fridge and the ceiling. “You guys had to study me to make sure I wasn’t using random powers?”

“Yeah. Turns out you’re just smart and don’t stop until you get what you want. Like the toy I put on the fridge to stop you and Brent fighting. You used the kitchen cabinets as stairs.”

Ah, that’s what that weird thing in my hand was.

Next set was of a birthday party, just Betty in attendance with Mom and Dad, stock little safari animals decorating the living room. The Christmas tree was still up, paper streamers wrapped around the branches in place of ornaments and with presents under it wrapped in paper that screamed HAPPY BIRTHDAY in bold. “Is this where the birthday tree came from?” I asked. We always kept our Christmas tree up till January 18th, the bottom of the tree holding bigger presents while the branches would hold smaller things like paint brushes or video game cases or gift cards. It was one of my favorite traditions.

“We were just lazy,” Dad shrugged. “You try finding time to put up Christmas stuff when you’ve got Brent learning how to open the front door and you trying to pull everything out of the kitchen cabinets to hide in them.”

Yeah we were definitely why he was graying fast at 44.

“But yes, your Mom and I talked about doing it after getting you two to bed that night,” Dad added. “I wanted…it didn’t hurt to keep the idea after we moved to Portland, you know?”

I nodded. A snippet of Mom in our life wasn’t something I was upset to have around.

The next pages were of the nursery gutted or tarped, Mom handing Brent a paintbrush while visibly holding me back from trying to eat some paint out of a bucket. Nice. Glad that’s a memory now. The wall was tarped too save for a cut out square, the elephant’s canvas in it. “So you made it before we were born?” I asked, Dad nodding. I looked back at the pictures, the next one a close up on Mom.

The smile began to slip off my face; Mom, she…she didn’t look the same. I mean yeah it looked like Mom but I hadn’t noticed her skin was a bit gray, cheeks seeming to become sullen. She looked sick. There was life in her eyes that didn’t match her body, but she just didn’t look right.

This had to be what Dad was talking about. Whatever our birth did to her was starting to become obvious.

I flipped the pages, ignoring a lot of what we were doing more so to track how Mom declined; her arms got a bit skinnier, her collarbones more pronounced. There were less pictures of her in action with us and more of her sitting or laying down. There were quite a few pics of her with little wrappings on her elbows, the after effects of a blood draw or something. She…she looked like she was on borrowed time. If the Akurans never got to her, would she have lived anyways? She didn’t even have the energy to keep up with the dye in her hair, the brown roots coming back with a vengeance. She took to wearing baggier tees as summer returned and I wondered if that was to hide that she lost weight. S’mores was suddenly there, a Burmese kitten that looked like a toasted marshmallow, Mom holding her as if she’d melt away in her hands. “S’mores was Mom’s cat?”

Dad nodded. “I got S’mores for her as a late birthday gift. You guys were not nice to her—“ he pointed to a picture of me with my hand on her head in a bad pet, S’mores glowering but otherwise unmoving, “—but she was a great cat. Let you do almost anything to her, and would only swipe if you pushed too far.”

“She never used her claws,” I commented, remembering all the feverish little rapid patpatpatpatpat smacks she’d hit me with when I tried shoving her in doll clothes. She’d smack me, run to Dad yowling, and I’d get in trouble — but she never hurt me. I never even heard her hiss till her cancer got bad when we were 13.

Dad was torn up when S’mores died, and now I got why; it was another piece of Mom, ripped away.

There were Fourth of July pictures featuring only Dad and Betty, Mom missing from the festivities at the Longhouse. Betty playing with me, Dad holding Brent’s hand more to keep him in place than anything as they walked the shore of the Sound — but no Mom. Mom was on the next page, wrapped up in bed with Brent and Me under her arms, all three of us having some sort of movie night where she managed to placate us two into stillness. There was a little bit more color in her face, but it could have also been from the blush she gave the camera, caught by Dad. One beside it was Brent and I now fully active on the bed, chasing around a pink light that overexposed our faces on camera — but it didn’t erase the joy. Not at all.

Next page was a cute family one, Mom and Dad wrangling Brent and I down respectively, posed on the front steps of the Longhouse. Another one of Betty losing her grip on us, but nonetheless laughing, reaching out to try to snatch Brent back up before he could run too far as I was slung over her shoulder, looking back at the camera and laughing.

There weren’t any other pictures on the opposite side, nor the rest of the book as I flipped through. The memories stopped there on the Longhouse stairs. “That’s the day I proposed to your mom,” Dad said sadly. “Betty wanted a picture when we came back in celebration.”

And a week later, Mom would be dead.

I sniffed, trying to push back the tears. I had so many emotions flowing through me, all touched with a twinge of sadness. Mom was here. On this couch, in this house, at some point — and I had proof. I could sprint outside right now and scream to the heavens that I had a Mom, that she loved me and I had proof! It was right here in this old album, which I subconsciously brought closer to my chest as I closed it, breathing shakily.

Dad’s arm on my shoulder tightened a bit in a side hug, drawing me closer into his side. “You okay?” He asked gently.

I nodded rather feverishly, sniffing again. “Yeah, I…” I gripped the book tighter, like if I squeezed it hard enough it’d hug back. “She knew us.” I whispered.

“Hm?”

I tried to raise my voice higher, but couldn’t. I may as well have been vapor, the way it suddenly vanished. Everything welled up in my chest, trying to shove its way out.

Dad’s hand rubbed against my arm softly, and he breathed deeply before saying, “She loved you. Both of you, and it’s been hard keeping these memories from you two because you deserve to know how much she loved you.”

Tears began escaping without my consent. God, I didn’t think I could cry anymore today. Dad’s other arm came around to grab me fully and I couldn’t hold back anymore, pain and joy and sadness all flooding out on choked sobs as I cried. I even felt Dad’s breathing shake, his nose sniff — he joined at some point, but never stopped consoling me. Didn’t worry about anything but how I was doing, keeping a hold on me even as I pulled out of the hug, throat raw.

He let the silence hang as I composed myself, trying to steady my breathing and get those embarrassing hiccups to stop. I let the book rest on my lap again, freeing my hands so I could pull the sleeves of my shirt over them and wipe my face dry. Weird, you’d think the powers would deal with them.

Dad’s thumb was rubbing a gentle pattern into my bicep, and I tried to force my breathing to match the rhythm of his movements somehow. “She was really happy you were a girl, by the way. After the whole scare that you got swapped out and stuff, she actually was so happy she cried. Something about not being surrounded by testosterone,”

I snorted, the sound gross because of my congestion. Yeah, sometimes it sucked being in a house full of boys, I probably would have been relieved too.

“Brent needs to see this,” I eventually said, my voice a harsh croak that required me to cough to even it back out.

“He will,” Dad promised. “I’ll show him tomorrow at some point.” Dad then sighed hard, giving me a slight bit of room as he went from squeezing into me to leaned back on the couch. “How was he?”

I shrugged. “He…upset. I missed whatever fit he threw, but that construction site is completely unusable now.”

Dad blinked, looking down at me. “Really?”

I explained what I saw, how absolutely destroyed the site and surrounding trees were — but Dad didn’t look surprised. In fact he hummed, as if it was a curious outcome. “I’ll have to talk to him about it. I think I might know what happened,”

“Tommy just—“ I sputtered a moment, trying to find the words. “How could he? Not exactly being pro-Conduit is one thing but he sold you out! After everything!”

Dad stared into the fire, which really needed a stoke, thinking. “You know, when we left here and I became Damion and everything, I sort of thought that…maybe it was a good thing. I was scared of what being Abigail Walker and Delsin Rowe’s kids was going to do to you two. Not even the death threats or the stalking or the harassment but…stuff like this, with Tommy. Especially when I thought you two were normal, I felt like I made the right move. That maybe we should have done it earlier.”

What would that have done? Tommy would still be prejudiced, we’d still be Conduits, Dad would still be Delsin Rowe. Mom probably would have died from whatever made her sick. “We shouldn’t have to hide,” I huffed. “It’s not fair! I mean, why is it so wrong that we’re Conduits? You know how much good we could do?”

“People are scared of what they don’t understand,” Dad said sadly. “And with Empire City and the Plague and Augustine’s stunts — they have reason to be scared. They’re worried they can’t protect themselves.”

“They don’t need to protect themselves! It’s not like we’re hunting them for sport.” I scoffed. “And even if something happens, I mean — doesn’t it feel safer to have a Conduit help?”

Dad was giving me a weird look, like he was analyzing all I left unsaid. Probably to chastise me for the curse words I was keeping out. “Jeanie, I want you to think back to when those Akurans had you. You couldn’t do a thing to safely get out of that situation, right?”

I nodded, the idea of that day enough to cause knots in my stomach. Even after it all, the only reason I got away from his gun was because I turned to water in his arms. If I wasn’t a Conduit, or if I didn’t form powers then…would I even be alive?

“That fear is what everyone has about Conduits. Guns and stuff can only do so much. If someone shoots at us, we can dodge or block it — and we heal fast. What’s to stop us from killing them?”

Not much.

“But we aren’t killers, Dad! You’re not, me and Brent aren’t, and none of those Conduits in COLE were either.”

Dad’s soft smile he gave me was weird, sort of like he…felt sorry for me? “There’s a lot more to this than you know, Jean. It’s not always that easy.”

Then fucking make it easy, Dad! I’m not a child anymore, I’m 99% adult and you can tell me what you really think instead of hiding behind the ‘you’ll understand when you’re older’ excuse.

That’s what I wanted to say. Instead I sort of huffed under my breath and looked at the fire, grabbing the poker to stab at it a bit.

A few embers shot out from my poking, and I watched them flitter down to the cold tile that lined the edge of the fireplace, dying midair before they could even hit the ground. My mind wasn’t on the argument I wanted to start with Dad at all anymore, but the absolute tragedy that happened earlier. “Dad?” He hummed. “Did…is it still at nineteen?”

His hand came up from its lax position, running over his face. “Yeah. Didn’t go up, but there’s a couple people in critical condition,”

So it could change.

“So…how many of them did you know?”

Dad’s eyes didn’t leave the fire, the flames haunting him as if he watched COLE explode in person. “All of them.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 19 acquaintances or friends gone, snuffed out like those embers. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.

“There’s a vigil tomorrow,” Dad said. “Got an email about it. They’ve kept me on the email chains just in case I…” he shook his head as if resetting the thought, trying again with, “I hope they stay safe about it. Another big gathering isn’t the best idea.”

The thought came to me, and left my tongue just as quickly: “You should be there.”

Dad turned to look at me like I just ate ash out of the fireplace for a midnight snack. “What?”

There was a brief second where I thought about shaking my head and saying ‘never mind’ — but there wasn’t a good enough reason not to. We didn’t have the liberty of reasoning anymore. “You should go. They — the Conduits need a voice right now and I know Dr. Sims is there but it’s—“ I shrugged, finishing lamely with, “It’s not you.”

“Jeanie, I need to make sure you two stay safe—“

“Dad,” I cut him off, pulling out of his embrace to face him fully. He blinked, surprised by how serious I was being. “I don’t think we can hide anymore. It didn’t work, anyways — they found us. And besides, staying silent right now is admitting it’s the truth. They know you’re Delsin, and they know about me and Brent. There’s video and Tommy is ratting us out anyways so it isn’t like we can just pretend things are okay.” I thought back to that one on one I had with Betty on the patio; maybe she did know what she was talking about. “COLE was just blown up and I don’t — maybe if we did something no one would have died—“

“Jean—“

“But we can’t just leave them to fend for themselves! They need you. Not Sims, not some other guy, not the politicians, but the man they credit for freeing them. I don’t think anyone but Delsin Rowe can fix this.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m not — Jean, this isn’t one of those comics you want to write. I can’t be that guy, I just care about you and your broth—“

“But you are.” I stressed, a few seconds away from dropping to my knees in a plea. “You’re that guy to them. I thought you were that guy too: you didn’t have to help them, but you did, and that’s what they care about. That’s why they need you. And I know you care, Dad! You wouldn’t have made COLE if you didn’t.”

He looked at me for so long I eventually dropped my vision to my hands, chickening out of the staring contest. But it’s the truth: he should be there. For the people he knew, for the ones he helped. Everyone knew Delsin Rowe was alive, and it was too late to shove that fact back into its little box. We did have a choice, and ours was probably more important than any other average Conduit, because I fully believed Dad’s involvement could change the tides.

“You really think that?” Dad finally asked, just above a whisper. I looked up; he was still staring, the ghosts of a thousand fears and the shadows of a dozen emotions crossing his face.

“Yeah,” I answered with no hesitation. “I think they need you again.”

Dad breathed deeply, squinting his eyes shut like the action hurt him. “I don’t want to leave you two alone, but I can’t take you back there right now,”

“We aren’t alone,” I shrugged. “Betty can babysit us so you know we aren’t drinking.”

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” Dad suddenly chuckled. “You have a super high metabolism now. You’ll need to drink an entire handle to feel a buzz.”

“What?”

Dad’s stare tried to be disapproving, but cracked under the amusement. “You could pretend to not be so heartbroken, y’know,” but that pensiveness came back, and Dad went quiet.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What could I say? I couldn’t force him there, and it definitely didn’t look like he was ready to decide what to do.

So instead I shifted to lean against him again, grabbing the photo album and asking, “Do you remember anything about these pictures? Like, what was going on that day?”

I didn’t look at Dad, but I could tell he was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic as he said, “Y-yeah, a few of them, why?”

“Tell me about them?”

For a moment, Dad tensed, and I was sure he was gonna shrug me off and tell me to just go to bed. But then he shifted, leaned into the couch so I fit more to his chest and opened the album like it was a storybook. “So it’d been…almost two months since I heard from your Mom — there were so many interviews with the FBI and Reggie’s funeral and Curdun Cay that we barely got a moment of peace. Didn’t even really say a proper goodbye to each other. But one day she called and asked if I was still close to Seattle, if I’d meet her at the warehouse where she sorta kicked my ass…”

I fell asleep there, the rumbles of Dad’s chest becoming a white noise as I listened to him explain a past I was only becoming acquainted with.

#infamous second son #infamous #infamous erosion #delsin rowe #sucker punch productions #Fetch Walker #Reggie Rowe #Brent Walker #Abigail Walker #Eugene Sims #the gang’s all here!!#for a moment but whatever #fanfiction #fanfic #infamous OCs #i couldn’t think of a better banner either #MAN I wish I could draw I’d hand make every one of those lol #oh!#infamous first light

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