Chapter Text
By this point, Lauren was getting tired of passing out.
This time, she woke up on a couch. It seemed old, but very comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that she almost thought she’d dreamt up her entire encounter with Scott. But, alas, every part of her still hurt, albeit a bit less than the last time she was awake.
Opening her eyes, she found herself in what looked like a warehouse. It was definitely older, with cracked drywall and rusty pipes hanging from the tall ceiling, but someone had evidently taken the time to decorate it to make it more homey. Hammocks hung in corners surrounded by pillows and cozy blankets. A full on kitchen was a few feet away from where Lauren lay. A small planter box was even pushed against a wall, illuminated by the tall window behind it.
Lauren sat up slowly, wary at the strange comfort the space had. It was far too quiet, and only the sounds of cars passing by cut the thickness of it.
She moved to push some loose strands of hair out of her face, and did so quite aggressively considering the fact that she was still half-asleep. As she did so, she felt a sudden sting on the side of her cheek. Touching the spot lightly and looking at her fingers, Lauren saw two things. One: she was bleeding. And two: Her hands were not her hands.
Her hands were supposed to be simple, normal, taloned hands. But what was currently attached to her body was a pair of long, clawed appendages that faded to pure black at the fingertips. Looking at them instilled a strange feeling in her that she supposed was fear, but so clearly wasn’t. Staring at her strange hands a bit more, with the same fascination as one might look at a poisonous snake with, she realized just what the feeling was. Though it still lacked a name, it was the same weird, wrong, she felt when she’d teleported. It felt like ink was gunking up her veins, and it almost looked like it. Faint purple and black lines were sprawling out all over her arms as well.
“Damn. You look terrible.”
Lauren was almost thankful that something had broken the silence and her sickening concentration on her demon arms. However, the voice was vaguely familiar, and it most definitely wasn’t Scott. This was a female voice, though strangely distorted, as if she was speaking from ten places at once. Looking up Lauren saw that the stranger was… nowhere.
Getting up off the couch (with great effort), she spun on the spot. And still, there was no one in sight. They could be hiding, but the voice had sounded so close. Facing away from the window, Lauren put her hands in her strange hands and sighed. Now she was hearing voices. She’d even prefer Jay’s snide comments to the insanity she was experiencing. Just as she became certain that it was all some auditory illusion, she caught a glimpse of her shadow through her fingers. She moved her hands away from her face quickly and stepped back in terror, for right before her eyes, her shadow was stretching and… bubbling.
Soon enough, Lauren's shadow had formed into a full person standing right in front of her. This person was pale, brown hair framing her face and just reaching her shoulders. Their bangs were bleached, and they wore a pair of black denim overalls. Her every limb was wreathed in strange shadowy smoke. Stepping back once more, Lauren shuddered. More more terrifying than having her own shadow take form, was that it had taken the form of a dead woman. Or at least… presumed dead.
“Shelby?!” She whispered the word, but in the silent warehouse, it sounded like a gunshot. Shelby, or was it really Shelby, smiled. It was a very warm smile, and it almost looked like they were happy to see her. However, a glint of something behind her eyes suggested some potential malice. “Nice to see you too, Lauren.”
“You… You were presumed dead.” Lauren allowed herself to speak with full volume this time, and found that her voice still carried a whispery hiss, despite her throat feeling perfectly clear. “After only one month of searching too!” Shelby’s smile widened, making her look slightly crazy. “So glad I wasn’t missed.” She seemed so nonchalant, and spoke so casually that she might've been commenting on the weather.
Lauren took the risk of inching closer. “But why are you here?” Shelby almost seemed taken aback by the question, as if it was a stupid thing to ask for someone in Lauren’s ever-growing state of confusion. “Same reason as you.”
When Lauren raised an eyebrow, they sighed.
“I got approached by Scott in an alleyway and he convinced me to ditch the association and join him in villainy?”
Lauren almost laughed. “Yeah, actually, I got knocked out by Scott in an alleyway, kidnapped, lectured to about the association, and talked to about villainy. I'm not sure he’s convinced me of anything.” She folded her arms protectively over her aching chest. When she did so, she felt the smooth eye that lived there now, found that she didn’t like it touching her forearms, and just as quickly dropped her hands back to her sides.
Shelby scoffed. “Like you’d have anywhere else to go. If the association sidelined me for my abilities because they were too villain-like, you wouldn’t be allowed within a mile of headquarters. In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve inherited actual villain powers, Chicken Girl.”
The teasing nickname stung more than it wouldn’t have normally. Lauren was reminded of how Shelby used to brush her off by calling her snide names on missions. It was annoying, but Lauren had forgotten just how much she’d missed it. The name was almost distracting enough to make her forget about her former coworker’s actual words. Almost.
She wanted so badly to deny that she had Enderian’s power, but the fresh addition to her torso and unfamiliar hands told her otherwise. “Isn’t there some way to get rid of it. Scott said the last Enderian got rid of the Orb. That's why I’m in this mess.” Lauren found herself searching for any way to just make things go back to normal.
Shelby didn’t seem to have a good answer. She might not have ever known him, considering she’d only vanished a year ago. The two women just looked at each other in contemplation until yet another new voice broke the silence. This time, a man’s, but still not Scott.
“Bold of you to assume he was okay after it.”
Lauren jumped at the sudden noise and quickly glanced up at one of the hammocks she'd previously thought to be empty. In it sat what looked like a taller man (it was hard to tell with him laying down), with brownish hair cut short and a small beard. She also noted the vulpine features he had and assumed he was some sort of fox hybrid.
Shelby had also jumped a bit and scowled up at the new addition to the conversation. “Callum! A little warning next time!?”
Callum chuckled. “So you’re the only one who gets to sneak up on people, huh?” He hung his head upside down from the hammock, grinning mischievously from ear to ear. “Anyway, Lauren, is it? Shelby here never knew the guy, but I knew Enderian for a bit. More importantly, I knew him when he ripped the orb out of his chest and very nearly bled himself to death. It isn't easy getting rid of that lil’ thing.” He then rolled over again and disappeared into the folds of the hanging fabric.
So this damn orb was evidently biologically attached to her now. Wonderful.
Lauren sat back down on the couch, sinking into the soft, worn cushions. Two days ago (or perhaps it was longer; she had no real idea of how long she’d actually been missing) she would've never believed the situation she was in now. She wanted it to be over. She wanted to go back to two days ago so badly. It was all she could do to keep herself from trying to pressure herself with “Everything will be fine. The association will take me back. Everything will go back to normal.”
Except… she couldn’t. The words slipped out unhurried mumbled that Shelby unfortunately overheard. The shadow clad woman took a seat right next to Lauren on the sofa, but partook in no other reassuring gestures. They’re eyes merely bored into her as they spoke.
“You know, I’ve infiltrated the association a lot since I left. It’s pretty easy.” Shelby checked her nails in a bored sort of way, “I did it again yesterday, and there was not a word about you.”
Lauren blinked. “I don't believe that.” She knew she was a somewhat expendable hero, but she expected that they’d at least care enough to express concern.
“Well… actually I take that back.” Shelby sighed, “Jimmy won’t shut up about saving you, but he’s still being treated and his worries keep getting dismissed. Oh, and the assignment receptionist mentions you a lot. But that’s nothing new. He’s done that for years.” She seemed to be more so talking to herself than to Lauren at this point, but everything she said still hurt. Apparently, the few people who actually cared couldn’t do anything to save her. And the association didn’t care at all. It suddenly occurred to her just how few friends she actually had at work. She had one. Bobby. Jimmy, as much as she liked him, was always more of just a pleasant coworker.
Shelby yawned and pulled a thick, folded piece of paper out of her pocket, handing it over to Lauren without a word. Unfolding it revealed it to be a newspaper, dated what she assumed was today. Either way, the date confirmed that she had been missing at least four days. It was fairly standard in content, but a familiar face stared back at her from one page. Her own. It was a missing persons ad. Scanning the information written about her, she found herself stifling a laugh. They had gotten her birthday wrong.
A shuffling was heard from above and Callum’s voice once again rang through the warehouse. “You know Scott’s gonna keep trying to recruit you, right?”
Lauren let the newspaper lay flat on her lap, and observed that her razor sharp fingers had pierced small holes in the sides. Everything in her told her not to respond. What was she doing anyway? Engaging in polite conversation with villains and rogue heroes. She had thought the association drilled it into her brain to not do anything so stupid.
The same association that put her incorrect birthday in the newspaper. The same one that evidently couldn’t care less whether she came back or not. It scared her just how much her thoughts were turning bitter and angry. And it terrified her even more greatly just how much her thoughts had a point.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” she sighed, but her next intake of breath shared the same intensity, making it more of a heavy breathing. “Next time he asks… I’m gonna say yes.”
“Wonderful!”
Ah. There it was. Scott’s voice echoed off the walls, and he descended from the rusty pipe rafters to land directly in front of Lauren. Seriously, did everyone just listen to conversations for fun?
Scott extended his gloved hand in a stupidly regal manner to her, grinning in a terrifyingly sinister way. “You’re gonna have to prove your loyalties, of course, but I’m delighted you made the right choice.” Lauren was instantly having second thoughts. There was no going back from this, really. Was she really ready to throw away her hero career?
No, the voice in her head answered her, she didn’t have to. The association and their damn biases made sure of that. It was either this, or try to navigate the city as a supposed missing person, which sounded unpleasant and wildly unsafe. And then go back to what? Nothing.
Lauren Z. Weber was missing. That’s what the papers said. Sooner or later, they would say she was dead. Telling the public that they were missing a hero for too long, however true it was, looked bad for the AfterLife Association. Besides, they had better heroes at their disposal. Avian was a mediocre asset at best, and even with her status unknown, she wouldn’t pose any significant threat.
The Association had been wrong before.
Lauren took Scott’s hand gladly.