Chapter Text
It is no secret that Kala always enjoys a visit to the temple. She has always enjoyed this part of her life, even in her earliest memories. Even in the stories her parents tell her about the time before that.
Her religion connects her to the people and the world around her, to those who came before her and the land beneath her feet.
(Being a part of something bigger than herself was something Kala has found herself appreciating differently, but just as much.)
More than that, praying to Ganesha not once failed to bring her some clarity about what she wanted… and what she didn’t, doesn’t, which, perhaps, is closer to the reason why she had last visited the temple and why she is here this time.
The exact same, actually.
She’s still hung up about the same thing she was a week ago and she foresees herself being conflicted about this all for quite a while longer.
The migraine and hallucinations are new, admittedly. New and concerning.
But while she probably should look into getting that checked out — health concerns are nothing to be dismissed, after all — she nevertheless finds herself hesitating.
What if this is something related to how anxious she’s been feeling?
What if she has to tell her family just what, exactly it is that is the cause of that?
Out of the question.
(Unless she finds her symptoms worsening. She promises herself that much at least.)
She can’t tell them that she doesn’t love Rajan. That she’s not sure if she wants to marry him. That whenever she imagines their life together it feels like there’s something missing.
Once, she could have told them, perhaps. Before the astrologers had been hired. Before so many of the preparations were completed.
They’ve spent so much time and money already, and invited so many people.
And it is not like Rajan has done anything wrong! He is attractive and wealthy, nice and as far as she can tell genuinely kind. He even apologized to Kala when she had told him she preferred to keep romantic gestures out of the workplace and has kept his word.
From that point on, the most romantic he got in the office was the looks he gave her. Kala had expected to hate them, but they did not feel predatory or greedy for her body, but rather honored to get to know whatever she is willing to share of herself.
(She really thought that she might fall for him, during the engagement period, while they grew closer.
She would not have accepted the proposal otherwise.
But she has not.)
Her family were so proud when they heard she had accepted a proposal they hadn’t arranged. The first to marry for love, they told everyone, and the smiles on their faces are some of the biggest Kala has ever seen on their faces.
All this and more is going through her head as she kneels before Ganesha and presents her offering.
It seems a little silly, asking Ganesha for help with the problems Kala has created herself, but, well, who else could she tell? Her family that she doesn’t want to know? Her colleagues who would tell Rajan — even if unintentionally? Does she currently have close friends that truly are neither?
There is no one else she can turn to. So Ganesha it is.
(Except — something buried deep inside her heart says that that is a lie.)
Wolfie’s gone mad. That’s the only thing that could have happened. Something must have happened to push him over the edge in the last hour or so before the break in.
That’s the only possible explanation for Wolfgang taking a break from cracking the S&D safe and Felix not even having a hunch about what this all is about.
(He knows his brother.)
Cracking the safe rather than cutting it had been a mad idea in the first place, but Felix gets that bit. He accepts that bit.
Wolfgang has something to prove. Not to Felix — never to Felix — but to himself.
(Proving he’s different.
Proving he’s better.)
Kind of like the way Felix has seriously considered writing a book for like a day after they had finished Extraordinary, despite only barely finishing the Hauptschule and his talents being… literally anything done with hands more so than words.
(It’s not entirely the same thing. Vanya Hargreeves has shown compassion.
That is a big difference between her and that Arschgeige.)
Wolfgang full-on moves away from the safe, crosses the room, sits on the couch and puts on the TV.
To a gottverdammte casting show.
Really not the time, honestly, no matter how relaxing the thing may or may not be for Wolfgang.
Thank fuck that at least the Schalldämmung in this building is good — those rich fucks get all the good things.
Having the light on is already a risk — turning them off would be as well — Felix doesn’t need or want to imagine the chaos if someone heard them. At least they are high enough that no one will be able to tell from the street who they are exactly and whether or not they are supposed to be there.
He keeps those thoughts in mind while Wolfgang watches his show and picks his favorite contestant — doomed to lose not by her talent, she’s got plenty of that but by her looks.
(Just because he recognizes this, it doesn’t mean he agrees with it. For the record.
Although sometimes, like with Klaus, their talents might not be the best thing to judge someone on, either.)
Eventually, Wolfgang finally stands back up, turns off the TV, and returns to the safe-cracking.
And then he pauses again, because he hears fucking sirens out of all things.
As if Felix would not have alerted him if that was a danger. He’s almost offended, honestly.
“Ich hätt’ schwör’n können…” Wolfgang shakes his head. “Die klangen sowieso irgendwie komisch. Wie aus ‘nem Film.”
Will has been wondering about Diego’s past for a while now. He’s alway been cagey and secretive about it — not once has he mentioned his parents and only once that he was not the only child in the house.
That’s just about all Will knows for sure about his best friend’s life before they met and not for lack of trying. He knows who his friend is now and how he thinks about the world. He knows that he will go and see every single Alison Hargreeves movie on its opening weekend without fail.
He knows that the one person from his old city he still talks to is someone he calls Dora — they call once a week and talk about his siblings. There has not been a single time Diego has called Dora or vice versa when Will could hear.
(Why he’s not calling the siblings themselves is anyone’s guess.)
There’s state secrets less closely guarded, Will’s willing to bet.
What he does know — even though not once has it ever been said — is that however Diego had grown up, it was not an average home. So much more than likely not a kind one, either.
It’s tangible in the way Diego reacts to so many things — he’s known more than he should when it comes to all sorts of things from fighting techniques to the intricacies of international drug trade to a baffling amount of languages — far from limited to Spanish, Hindi, Russian, Mandarin, Arabic, and literally the world’s most spoken ones.
Then there is the way he reacts to cases of abuse. Practically never doubting an accusation, no matter who it’s from and only if he has met the alleged victim in person. He never fails to talk to them and deal with the problem as close to exactly how they want it to be dealt with as he can get away with.
He is much kinder than any of the other cops in the precinct. Whenever they’re out patrolling he makes it a point to offer free water on hot days and hot chocolate on cold ones, for instance. He refuses to acknowledge seeing anyone sleeping in public — “They wouldn’t be doing that if they had another choice now, would they,” is the only thing he says for that and Will wholeheartedly agrees.
(“If he lives and he kills someone, let’s say a cop, how you gonna feel about that?” The nurse asks when they bring a kid with a gunshot wound to the hospital.
“Some of the kids never had any other choice. Sometimes… circumstances mean you have to do cruel things or die,” Diego responds before Will can say anything.)
Most importantly of all: he refuses to see anyone who is not actively hurting someone as an enemy.
(We serve and protect it says on the car. But who do they serve?
Every day Will is less sure that it is the people, as he has been told all his life.)
The most recent thing that has made Will curious is the non-reaction his friend has had to the not-hallucinations he has been having.
Will is sure that they’re real and Diego had believed him without question — just as he had with Sara Patrell. What kind of childhood, what kind of life led to this?
He’s curious, but he is also patient. One day he will know.
Riley had finally managed to banish the woman of her ‘vision’ enough to concentrate on a book when she hears both the sound of a lock being cracked and a siren that sounds unlike those she’s used to in London.
She sees nothing when she moves over to the window. Since she’s already on her feet she decides that she might as well make her way over to Nyx’s a little earlier than planned — it’ll give her the time to wander around if something catches her interest.
Her thoughts drift back to the unusualness that has filled the last few days — she swears she can literally see the music while DJing now and isn’t that weird? — and that term Nyx had used.
Limbic resonance.
Usually, this is the kind of stuff that she would forget nearly instantly. Not this time. There’s something about that concept that…. well, resonates deeply within her.
The man seems to know her better than Jacks does, despite the fact that she’s known this guy for about two days and Jacks for… fuck, she’s not even sure how long anymore.
(Time’s a lot less important than it should have been, right now. Rather than savoring every moment she’s running away from just as many.)
She takes the drug he offers — actually feeling alive again, what a concept — and the world around her shifts.
Meanwhile, in Chicago, a man she has not yet met, a man she knows as well as she does herself, suddenly feels weird. He stops for a moment and she wanders around.
“-a shame that something like this even happens in the— Will, you okay? This is not the way you’re supposed to remind me of my brother, you know?”
Riley makes eye contact with him once he steps in the car.
They drive around and Riley looks out the window in London, until they see a church.
“This is where it happened,” she says.
The driver (Diego, more than one voice tells her) who she does not know at all, asks for clarification and so Will (is that his name?) elaborates that this is where the woman in the white dress killed herself.
Diego curses and the two cops move into the dilapidated church. It’s clear that the only ones other than the three of them who have been here were those who had no other place they could or wanted to be.
“D, a woman killed herself right here.”
“Alright, where’s the blood, Will?” There’s no disbelief in his voice. He is taking this as seriously as a directive from the precinct.
Perhaps more so.
(How does Riley know this? She wonders absently, as she blinks and sees Jacks and Nocker sprawled out. They’re cops, their clothes make that clear, but the rest?)
They investigate the scene until Riley and Will make eye contact once more.
“Uh…hi.”
“Who you’re talking to, Gorski?”
“This is where she died,” Riley replies.
“Did you know her?”
Riley shakes her head. “Not her, no,” she says with a glance at Diego. Something about that man she knows.
But then again, she knows something about Will, too.
“How do you know she died here?” Will says as he’s walking toward her. He’s just as lost as she is, on at least one level.
“I saw her.” That’s all she knows.
“Do you live here?”
“They don’t,” Diego responds as she shakes her head, looking about a meter right of where Riley is.
Will asks her where she lives, what she’s doing here in this neglected space an ocean apart from where she should be and she tells him as best as she can.
(She can trust this man more than anyone she knows in London. She knows that undeniably deep in her heart.)
As she’s caught in the euphoria of somehow being in America, she glances to her right and sees Jacks and Nocker holding guns! What the fuck!
She barely even registers Will is here with her for a second or two before he vanishes from her sight.
Jacks explains their stupid reason for doing this and how dare he think sexual attraction is the only reason not to want to see someone shot?
Somehow her attempt to flee turns into her bag being filled with drugs and money and how is she supposed to compute all this ? She’s still not over the rest of this week and her impromptu trip across the ocean!
This is not how she expected to go there and neither is the way Jacks seems to want to. Before she’s figured out how to even begin to respond to this there’s gunshots and stabbing and suddenly she is covered in blood and the only one left alive in this room.