Work Text:
Deceit was almost mad at himself for doing this. It nearly went against his philosophy and completely went against his image. He told himself that he was just doing this shit because he needed to know where the thing came from. After all, everyone knew that memory manipulation was dangerous, rather from a weapon or not; Deceit knew it most of all. So, he was just trying to make sure another weapon like that didn’t get made again or if some already had, that they got promptly destroyed.
So what if he was technically, almost, working with the cops? He was just sharing information, and it made sense to do so when they were in possession of the original weapon. Plus, it wasn’t like he was following their rules or anything.
And, so what, if his actions could possibly be construed to look like they were in some way related to helping Bluebird. Maybe an outside might think he was in some way angry about what had happened to the superhero, but that wasn’t what was happening. It just… hit a nerve; it wasn’t a big deal. It did not mean he liked the man. It barely meant he respected him.
Ugh.
When had he started respecting a superhero? He despised them on principle with all their pomp and desire for glory… though, even he had to admit, Bluebird was a different breed than most. He didn’t stick around to be hero worshiped if he could help it. He came in, did his hero thing, and bolted shortly afterwards. Deceit didn’t know what he was in it for, but he wasn’t in it for the glory. Which to Deceit made him… tolerable.
That didn’t mean Deceit was going to go around boo-hooing about what had happened to him like most of the people in the city seemed to be. No, Deceit was doing something actually useful.
“Tell me,” he hissed, and he wasn’t using his powers in earnest, not yet, but he was pushing the image that he was a lot bigger and scarier than he truly was into the mind of the man he was currently pinning to a wall. He tightened his grip around the man’s neck. “Now.”
He was shaking in fear. Good. He should be afraid of Deceit, especially right now. “I don’t know man,” he sobbed, “I dunno. Something about some guy who’s a tecnopath and a kid. That’s all I know.”
“A kid?”
“Yeah, she’s like 10 or something. Blond. I just saw her once when Lightwave brought her in. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Is she here?”
“I don’t know,” he cried. “Probably, man.”
Deceit frowned at him and loosened his hold a bit. “Turn yourself into the police,” he said.
“W-what?”
Deceit moved one of his hands from his neck to place his thumb in the middle of the man’s forehead. “Turn yourself into the police,” he repeated, “or your brain will explode in 24 hours, understand?” He couldn’t actually do that, but he could certainly convince him that he could. The guy whimpered and nodded, “Tell them everything you just told me.” Deceit then released him completely and he stumbled away. “You’re fucking lucky you might have more information the police or I need,” he grumbled to himself. “Now, fuck off.”
The man did not need to be told twice; he raced out of the building on stumbling feet.
Deceit turned from his retreating form in disgust. The old run-down building was barely a house. Most of the first floor was the living room and there was no longer a door to the kitchen. The staircase upstairs didn’t even look like it could hold a full-grown man’s weight. Honestly, this place should be condemned. It might be, actually; he doubted these people were the actual owners.
There were no signs of life in the house that he could observe through normal means, so he reached out tendrils of his powers to feel around a bit. Something pushed back. Deceit froze as it tapped back against his presence in its mind curiously.
Down.
But down where? Deceit wondered. After a bit of searching, he found a small almost invisible door under the staircase to the upstairs. It opened into another set of stairs that went down. He reached up and found a string to turn on the single lightbulb at the top of the steps. It barely gave off enough light for someone to get down the stairs intact. Yet, Deceit slowly descended the cement stairs.
He found the light switch at the bottom of the steps easily enough and the lights flickered on. A work desk and a lot of wires and parts were strewn around as well as some schematics. Deceit swept those up on his way by; he’d burn them later. He made his way through the empty room until he found another door which was bolted from the outside. He unbolted the door and cautiously opened it.
Dark eyes from a curled-up form on the other side of the room met his when he opened the door. Deceit paused to take her in. It was a little girl like the man upstairs had said, though she looked closer to 8 then 10. She was very much not clean and had been injured by her captors. She was also chained to the wall with power dampening cuffs.
“Hello,” he said softly. “Can I come closer to you?”
She nodded and Deceit entered the room. He approached her slowly.
“I’m De-” he cut himself off. ‘Deceit’ was probably not the best name to use with a kid he was trying to get to trust him. “Dee,” he said. “What’s your name?” She said nothing. “Okay, that’s fine, can I see your wrist?”
She held out her wrist to him and Deceit reached into his pocket to pull out a lock pick. He started working on the cuffs. He could feel her eyes on him as worked, and quickly they were off. Deceit threw them aside. The second the cuffs were off, her powers reached out for him.
She was a Mind Warper.
Deceit breathed slowly through his nose and smothered his reaction to that particular revelation. She wasn’t trying to do anything, and he had the impression that she wouldn’t (couldn’t to Deceit at least; he’d be able to throw most adults off, let alone one so young.) Instead, she just kind of poked at him inquisitively.
Hi? It was not really a word, but an impression sent towards him.
He sent a greeting back and her little fingers reached up to grab at his face. He did his best not to flinch.
Like me? Safe?
“Yes,” Deceit answered out loud. “I’m like you and you’re safe.”
Her hands drew away from him. “Kiri,” she said.
“That’s your name?”
She nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kiri. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
She pointed at her ankle which was swollen up and at the raw skin where the cuffs had been. Then she pointed at the patches of burnt skin on either side of her head. They must have… done something to her, manipulated her powers to build the weapon and Deceit was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what. Last, she pointed to a few bruises on her arms.
“It sounds like there’s a lot of things that hurt right now,” he said softly. “If you let me, I’ll make it hurt a bit less, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Very good. Now sit still and be calm.” He brushed his fingers against the side of her cheeks and thought gentle thoughts. He’d never used his powers in such a soft way before, but he found it wasn’t difficult at all when faced with someone so fragile. He was extremely careful with her as he weaved an illusion of painlessness to her. He spun a web of warmth and contentment, like a soft blanket was wrapped around her. Instead, he undid his cape and wrapped that around her shoulders.
The tension in her face eased as he gave her the illusion. She relaxed, eyes flickering and tired. Yet, she still looked up at him with a hug smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“Be careful,” he warned. “You are still injured, and pain is there for a reason. You don’t want to harm yourself more. This is just temporary until I can get you out of here and find someone who can fix you for real.”
She nodded. “Thanks still.”
Deceit nodded back. “What’s your favorite animal, Kiri?” he asked.
“I like turtles.”
“Okay,” Deceit replied. He leaned forward to press his forehead against hers and softly pressed an image of a turtle into her head. It was likely gentle enough for the typical person to shake off if they wished, let alone one with her powers, yet she willingly accepted it. She giggled and reached out to pat the imaginary turtle in her lap. “Good,” he said with a smile. “Now I’m going to pick you up okay?”
She nodded, allowing herself to be distracted by the images in her head. He picked her up, carful of her injuries even though she shouldn’t be able to feel them at the moment. He carried her out of that crumbling house. He easily convinced a neighbor that he was there to take his car to get its engine fixed and used that car to drive her to the hospital.
He hated working with the police, but he still called Silvia’s daughter and waited until she got there to leave Kiri’s side.