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Chapter Text

It was a normal day. I was walking home from my job, backpack in hand, filled with all the difficult college work i had to do by tomorrow. I worked two jobs just to pay rent for my flat and to help pay my doctorate collage loans. But today I decided to do something different.

I wanted to take a different route home. I turned into a corner, nearing my home, then realizing that someone was following me. A black car was slowly driving behind me. It was almost like a limousine.

At first, I didn't know what to do. I can't just keep walking, whoever's in that car would know where I live. I wasn't thinking straight.

My fight or flight instincts kicked in.

I turned around and looked at the car. The windows were blacked out, definitely suspicious. I ran up to the car knocking on the windows harder than I wanted to.

The windows screwed down and there was a man with a black suit on and no out there features. He was scary but I couldn't put my finger on why.

"Hello? Sir, why are you-?" Is all I managed to say before I was forcefully pulled into the car. I hit my head on the seat of the car as I heard the car door slam shut. I quickly sat up in the car seat and looked out the window seeing us speed past small houses and my flat. Then I looked around the car finally noticing a quiet man sitting in another corner of the fairly large car.

He was wearing a suit like man driving the car, but it looked more laid back. He was tan, he had black, wavy hair that almost reached his shoulders, on top of his head was a beanie that said LAFD, it looked worn, old. He was smiling, a smirking, sickening smile. Like he'd just won the lottery.

But the most distinguishable feature about him was his scar. It looked deep, like when he got it, it hurt like hell. It went from the top of his face all the way underneath his mouth. Which explained his fake gold teeth.

He then opened his mouth to speak

"Nice to finally meet you, Wilbur Soot."

-Chapter 2-

Wilbur's POV:

"Nice to finally meet you, Wilbur Soot."

What? How'd he know my name? I have never met this man before in my life. I would surely remember his face if I have.

"Who are you? And how do you know me? What's happening..."

He smiled. The smile was somewhat pitiful. I did not want him to pity me. The smile must have been fake anyway. Why would he be smiling sadly at me if he just kidnapped me?

"We've been watching you for a while Wilbur Soot. We'll not 'we', I've been to busy to spy on a college boy, they've been spying on you." He pointed at the man in the front, driving the car.

"I've learnt and heard a lot about you Soot. You seem like you think have your life together. You got all As in High School, and then moved away from your family in the UK to the US for medical college, right?" he said calmly as if my life was common information.

"But of course you don't want to hear about your life and what I know about you, you want to know why you're here," He said slowly, almost like trying to make sure I was absorbing all of the information he was giving me. "I have a proposal, you help me with what I need, and I'll help you pay for your student loans."

The deal sounded nice. I could probably quit my second job, take a break, maybe even get 8 hours of sleep. Finally spend time with my friends. Spend my college years filled with fun, joy.

But I'm not stupid.

My loans aren't cheap. He'd want something big out of me. Or whoever he was working for.

"But you'll have to agree before you hear what I need, deal?" He held his hand out to shake it. It was rough and had blisters all over it. Whatever he want me to do was not going to be light work.

Of course I didn't shake his hand, I'm not dumb. But something in his eyes told me he knew I wasn't going to shake his hand.

"Oh! Obviously you wouldn't shake my hand, duh!" He pulled back his hand and laughed. It was slightly unsettling but warm at the same time. It confused me.

"You go to doctor school or whatever. You wouldn't just jump into this without knowing the shit you were about to get into." He started to lean back in the seat. It seemed to like he was grabbing something from behind the chair. "The others I've worked with always just jumped on board, just because they hear their bills getting paid. They get excited, you know?"

He finally pulled out a quite thick file from behind his back and throwing it on my lap. Its cover was black and had no details on it, no name, no words, no nothing.

"But of course they want to pair me up with someone who they think uses at least half a brain this time." He smirked.

I opened the file somewhat not surprised to see what was inside. It was a criminal case. It said:

On the Thursday, May 18th of 2018, the body of Gabriel Davis-Thompson, age 30, was found dead in his apartment, flies circling his body, or what was left of it. His head was decapitated and found in his bathtub. Both of his hands were cut off, no where to be found on the seen. His legs were also cut off and found on his couch. Diagnostics say he had officially died since Monday, of May 15th.

Two weeks after Gabriel's death, police shockingly found Samantha Jones, age 28, dead, decapitated in the same manner, but the body (or torso and head) in Lagos, Africa.

After these deaths, more and more bodies have shown up all across the globe, the latest body being dated on April 23, of this year. We have noticed along the years that the 'killer' or 'killers' have taken more and more things from the seen. The last body had all two of the eyes and the tongue missing from the skull. The index and middle finger were also missing from the right hand.

I looked up from the file to see the man looking at me. He was no longer smiling.

"I would suggest you skip the next couple of pages, the contain... blood, but i guess you would care much, would you doctor?" He laughed slightly, like calling me doctor was an insult.

But of course, I looked the next page because for some reason I wanted to impress him or prove a point to him. What the point was, I still don't know.

There were pictures of headless bodies pasted all over the next few pages. There was dried blood on the floor or on the walls. Some even looked fresh, blood still coming out of what was rest of the neck and arm and legs holes. I wanted to throw up.

"Ha-ha, told you ,Soot! You might be a doctor but that kind of blood could scar a person!" Yeah, no shit Sherlock.

Behind the horrid pictures, was a different file. It was filled with... my information? Of places where I've called home (home home, iykyk), my age, my full name, each school I've been to, my family... it looked like it had everything. I definitely did not want to get involved in this. No matter what this quite attractive man said I was not going to change my mind.

"So, Wilbur Soot, I know how I stated this whole thing in the beginning it sound like you could make a decision? Yeah, no, Soot you've seen private government documents you have no choice but to work with us." He grinned, showing his gold teeth and the ones that had survived from whatever accident he had went thru. "But I did promise to pay your loans, so I still will, I keep my word you know." He held out his hand.

I was stunned. My whole life, possibly career, had been ruined in the span of one hour, what the fuck?

-Chapter 3-

"What?"

Suddenly the car stopped, making me lunged forward in my seat. I should have put on my seatbelt.

"Well, here we are Soot. Time to go." He stood up slightly in the car and took out what look like handcuffs out of his pockets(kinky lol-).

Before I could say anything, do anything, he slapped the cuffs on my wrists, and locked them. He then put a cloth on my face.

"These are just safety precautions, Dr. Soot, I'm sure you understand." I heard a car door open and then felt someone's hands on my arms. I could only guess it was the man. Or whatever his name was. Did he even have a name?

He led me out the car into the sun.

I don't remember it being this hot.

He started to guide me in the open as I heard the car speed off. We walk for at least a half hour in complete, uncomfortable, silence, until i decided to speak up. My brain was full of questions ramming uncomfortably against my head.

"What's your name?" Yeah, sure, it was a weird question to be asking in a situation like this but I needed to know the name of the man I oh so hated at the moment.

"My name?" The voice behind me said. He said it like it was a stupid question. "We're not allowed to state our names, for safety purposes." Of course, what was I expecting.

"But you can call me Q, since we're working together after all. That's what everyone at work calls me." Q? A letter? Well, I guess it's better than nothing.

We finally came to a stop. I heard some keys jingle behind me, then a door unlocking.

"Careful, Soot. The ceiling is low." He said this a bit late though, because as soon as I walked in building, I hit my head, causing me to say a couple swear words I had been holding in under my breath.

"Tall motherfucker..." I heard Q mumble under his breath. I chose not to speak back to him. He did have the advantage after all. I heard the door lock in the back of me. The room I was in smelt dirty, humid and hot. I coughed. I heard a couple things shuffle in the room, and then just quiet.

"Have fun, Soot." He said as he quickly took the tight cloth off of my face and pushed me down a dark hole.

I was going to die.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 4-

Wilbur's POV:

It felt like forever.

The deep, dark hole just kept going down. Was that stuff all a lie? Were the pictures... was that going to happen to me? No, it couldn't be. I'm dreaming. This is all a dream. Soon, I'm going to wake up in my bed in my apartment.

But that relief of waking up never came.

I fell for a couple minutes, soon feeling my body hit a surface. I went under. I was in water. I struggled to get the top, but my hands were cuffed. I definitely was going to die, to drowning. Then I felt arms pull me up. Multiple pairs of arms. Oh God.

I opened my eyes. I was surrounded by people in lab coats. A woman in a lab coat took off my cuffs. They were pulling me out of the tiny pool. Now that I was out of the water, it didn't look that deep.

Someone handed me a towel as soon as a next splash came out of the lake of water. Then I saw Q surface in the water. He pulled himself out the water then laughed. Hard.

"Did you see his face? He was practically screaming his head off. He was hilarious!" Q said barely taking a breath. He was killing himself laughing. I personally didn't see what was so funny.

"Jeez, you didn't tell them they were gonna drop again Q? He looked like he was going to have a heart attack!" A man said. He was a brunette, about average height. He had greenish brown eyes and over them, he wore thick, black glasses. He had a slimy look to him, but it didn't look like sweat. He also looked familiar.

"Wait, you're that new student at my college!" That's confusing why he here? And why was he in a lab coat. And why did he have a badge that said 'Head Doctor'?

He chuckled. "Nice to finally meet you Wilbur! My real name is Agent C!" He smiled.

Agent C? So the name he gave the school was fake. Of course. He was sent to my school to watch me. And obviously he's head doctor. No wonder he was so good at the assignments.

"Well," This came from Q. Or Agent Q? "I should get you to your room, C probably has important work to do." He looked at Agent C. "Anything new pop up?"

"A fresh body showed up this morning in Canada." Q was clearly concerned and interested, I was worried. "Less body parts were found again, this time the whole head was missing." The thought of someone taking a whole head with them made me gag. "We're still trying to figure out the identity of the person all we know is that they're female...and male."

Female and male?

"The woman who died was 7 months pregnant."

I held my head and looked at Q. He was clearly pissed. He also looked disgusted.

"We really need to find this fucking sicko. A woman? And pregnant?" He scoffed. The whole situation was unnerving.

"I hope you two do Q. I've been looking at headless bodies way too long. I'm starting to get used to it!" He laughed uncomfortably and then shivered. "But seriously, please do."

"Of course C, anything for you." Q bowed as C laughed. Then Agent Q grabbed my hand. "Anyway I have a job to do, thanks for the update Agent C."

Q turned around and started walking, pulling me with him. Suddenly, Agent C called out for him.

"Oh and, Q, Agent S called you up to his office when you're finished!" Agent Q sighed, then putting his thumb up in the air, signaling he had heard him.

Q led me through the building. Or, basement? He pulled me through different hallways and rooms so quick, I didn't get to memorize any of them. Suddenly we stopped in front of a door with the number 3 on it.

"Here it is. Your home for the next week." A week? "But don't worry to much, this room has everything you need, and trust me, the doctors are pretty nice."

He unlocked the door and opened it. It was pretty small, about the size of my room in my apartment. But other than that it looked like a pretty nice room.

Agent Q shoved me into the room causing me to land on the floor. "See you in a week, Soot. I have some traveling to do before I come back to pick you up. Oh, and tomorrow you'll be get a health and strength check-up from Doctor C, our Head Doctor. You're lucky, people usually get check-ups by normal doctors." He smirked. My face must have looked like I was confused. Mainly because I was confused. "Have fun, Soot." He then closed my room door locking it behind him.

-Chapter 5-

You know what, maybe this room was a bit smaller than I thought. It was tiny. It was suffocating.

Before I was in this room I was somewhat calm. My breathing was uneven, sure, but I was fine. But now that I was in the tiny room, alone, everything that happened slowly started to sink in.

Everything was suddenly cold. I was freezing.

My whole body started to shake. Maybe It was a good thing Q pushed me on the floor. If I was standing I most likely would have fell.

The room started to close in on me more. It felt tight. The room then started to spin

I began to cry. I hugged myself tight. I really did wish this was a dream. But it wasn't a dream. I knew that already. My vision was blurry. Was I going to die?

I started to do my breathing exercises.

I tried to stand up to see if there was anything in this damned room that could help me. Q did say this room had everything I needed.

I looked around, it didn't take long to see a button on my night stand with a note next to it. I stumbled towards it, continuing to try and level my breathing. The note said:

Hey Wilbur! We know you have anxiety and mental issues. If you have any trouble breathing, feeling like you're having a panic attack, or feeling stressed out (to the point of having a head ache) press this button! -Agent C <3

I knew this was supposed to be comforting but it, in fact, made my breathing pick up faster. Why and how did they know everything? My closest friends didn't even know I had anxiety. It was because I was too scared to tell them. Only my family and my therapist knew. I started to feel sick.

I had no choice but to press the button. I was surely going to faint. I at least wanted someone to be there with me, even if I didn't know the person at all.

The button made a slight tingling sound as I lost balanced and fell to the floor.

Yep, I was going to throw up.

I held my mouth.

Then I heard my lock shuffle and then door pushed open. And there was Dr. C. He looked a bit panicked. He rushed over to me and sat me upright against my bed.

"I wasn't expecting a panic attack from you this quick but, it makes sense, I don't know why."

He pulled a bottle filled with tablets out of his lab coat pocket and grabbed a water bottle from under the bedside table.

"Here, swallow this Wilbur, it'll help you calm down."

I took the pill reluctantly and drank the water he offered me. My shoulders relaxed. My breathing calmed. Whatever drug he just gave me worked way better than my usual prescription medicine.

"I knew it would work!"

My head was still spinning slightly as a slowly stood up, put my hand on my new bed.

"Thanks, I guess..." Sure, my breathing slowed up a bit and the shaking slightly stopped, but I still felt sick-

I ran to a garbage bin and threw up my guts. The bin was cold, it felt weird and slippery against my very hot and sweaty hands. My throat started hurt. I began to cry. Again.

I felt weak.

A hand was on my back. The bin suddenly had more support. Agent C was holding it up. He wasn't saying anything. Some people might say he wasn't being a 'good doctor' but at that moment I felt comforted in a weird way. Like he was giving me unspoken help. He was letting me cry instead of trying to stop me, instead of trying to shut me up and keep my feelings on the inside.

If I really was going to end up being a doctor, I hope I'm like him.

After getting cleaned up and eating some soup Agent C brought from the cafeteria, I went to sleep, feeling weirdly calm and at peace. Somehow forgetting what I was now involved in.

-Chapter 6-

The next morning I woke up to the sun shining, and bird chirping. It was never this happy and bright in my apartment. Or was I in my apartment.

I sat up straight and looked around.

Nope. I wasn't in my apartment. I was in a stuffy room. The thing I thought was the sun was my bedside lamp, and what I thought were birds chirping was an alarm, apparently set for 10:00am. Right, yesterday. It felt like forever ago. I guess that really did happen. All in one day, I was captured, forced to work with government agents, and then had the worst panic attack I had ever had. Like ever. It sounded like a gacha mini movie. But only it was real.

I got up and fixed my bed. I had decided that was going to look around my tiny room. I was going to explore. That was my plan for today. I turned off the now annoying alarm clock, putting on my round glasses that were on the bedside table.

My door slowly open. A man was standing in the doorway holding a plate of food. He placed it on the table near the door. Then he said morning and left.

I walked slowly over to table. On the plate of food were huge pancakes, a sunny side up egg, and three strips of bacon. It looked delicious. It was hella better than what I would usually be having at this time. Stale, off brand cereal with a little bit of milk. I had never realized milk was so expensive 'til I started to live by myself.

I was also hungry from practically throwing up my entire stomach yesterday. I didn't even think about what could be in the food.

I gulped down every piece of food on the plate. I probably looked like an animal. I felt like an animal. Trapped in a cage. I touched the door handle. If only it could open-

The door creaked open. It was...unlocked? Did the man forget to lock it or were they that trusting? Maybe they have a major, unpassable security system. I peeked my head out of the door. Yep, I was right. There were security cameras on the ceiling. Some were regular sized, some were so small I could barely see them with my glasses on.

I went back in 'my' room.

I looked around. I decided to start with my drawer. In my top drawer, there were clothes. T-shirts, sweaters, jeans, all things that looked like I would wear. They really did they're research. I picked up a yellow sweater. I have this sweater...

I opened the bottom drawer. It was filled with video games. Some I had, some I yearned to have. Wow, they really were thorough.

I turned around. There was my bed. It was a twin bed and pushed up against the back wall. On the opposite wall, the one with the door, was a TV. It was huge. I don't even have a TV at my apartment.

I suddenly heard my door open again. I saw a familiar face.

"Hey Agent C."

"Hello Wilbur!" He smiled. C was a super chirpy person. But in this situation, it was unsettling.

"You should grab some clothes, I am taking you to the showers. Then I have check your vitals and make sure your strength and nutrients intake is up to date!"

I grabbed the yellow sweater, a pair of underwear, and jeans. Then he took me by my wrist and led me down a couple hallways. I didn't even bother to memorize them.

We stopped at room with the door already open. The room looked huge, with doors loaded on each side of the room. I still heard showers on.

"Some people stay late at the lab, so we have shower rooms and lockers scattered all around the place." He led me to a stall. "Here, you can take a shower and change in there."

~After Wilbur showered and changed (cause I am not doing a shower scene)~

I walked out of the stall to find Agent C laughing to someone. He was quite an interesting looking person.

He had brown hair which was kind of short, it was connected to his mutton chops. He had a mustache. Unlike C he wore a suit instead of a lab coat. he paired his black suit with a red tie. He also wore a cap. His tag said 'Agent S'.

Wait. Agent S? Where do I recognize that name?

The strange man noticed me.

"Ah, is this him, C?" He cringed after saying C.

Agent C laughed at his expression. "Are you really not the used to calling me by my job name S?"

"No! I always call everyone by their real names."

"The perk of being boss isn't it? You know everyone's real name!" Agent C looked at me. "But, yes, this is him, Wilbur!" Agent C gestured to me.

I took this as a sign to step a bit closer. He's the boss? I held out my hand for him to shake. He took it.

"Well, nice to meet you, Will! I hope you, somewhat, enjoy your time with us. And don't worry, our team will be protecting you all the way through. Very unlikely you'll die while you're with us."

"But there's still a possibility, right?" Agent S laughed.

"True! So make sure you listen to Agent Q fully and don't do anything stupid, alright?" Before I could answer, he laughed in my face and walked away.

"Well, that's new." C said. "He usually doesn't make personal stops. Something about you and this mission must be really special Wilbur!"

"You're telling me."

Chapter Text

-Chapter 7-

Wilbur's POV:

The bed was cold, hard, and uncomfortable. I was in a doctor's office. I never knew the cot felt like this. I was always the one doing the check-ups.

"Hey Wilbur, are you ok? Your heart rate is speeding up." Dr. C look up at me, genuinely worried about me. He was a nice guy, I wonder how he got wrapped up in a situation like this. Working with the government, as a doctor and a spy. So that's what I asked him.

"Well, it was a long time ago. I graduated from Harvard Medical School as the best doctor in the class. Actually the whole school. Guaranteed to be a very successful doctor. Every hospital in the country had their eyes on me. But, I guess not only hospitals had their eyes on me."

He laughed. It was a mix of bitterness and happiness. It confused me. I guess this job for him was bittersweet. He DID always have to work with dead bodies. He put a thermometer under my arm.

"One day, I was sitting on my sofa at my apartment, you know enjoying my life. I was 23 at the time. Then I heard something break, it sounded like glass. So, of course I went to see how it broke. Then I blacked out. Don't remember a thing." There was a small beep and then he removed the thermometer. "Looks like normal temperature..."

He walked over to a small table and grab something. When he turned around, I saw a small, narrow-looking needle. I knew it wouldn't hurt as much a large needle but it still made me feel a bit uneasy.

"I'm going to draw some of your blood. Should be quick." He poked the sharp needle in my skin. I hissed at the sudden pain. "Sorry. I must have done that to hard." Soon, red liquid began to fill up the tiny space in the needle. He took it out. He wiped the injection area with alcohol to clean the cut, and put a Band-Aid on it.

He turned around. Probably to test my blood. "That day, I woke up to a bunch of people surrounding me. It scared the crap out of me! That was the day I meet Agent S and Agent Q. But back then Agent Q was just an assistant of S'. After I joined he quickly became "second-in-command". That's what everybody calls him at least. He isn't officially second in charge, but he might as well be. He knows everybody's government name, helps with meetings with the leaders of different countries, and is the best at his job!"

He turned back to face me. "Your blood looks completely normal! No complications! Which is great, it'll be harder to work if you're sick."

"So do you enjoy this job?"

It looked like he wasn't expecting that question. He looked confused for a split second then smiled at me.

"Of course I do! Why would I still be here if I didn't?" He said that happily. Then he went on a small rant about how fun it is to work with the same like minded people everyday and how he loved the friends he's made so far.

But if it were up to me to decide, I would say he didn't like this job. At all.

-Chapter 8-

It had been about a week. Or something, I didn't know what the date or time anymore, nor did I care. But I did remember the fact that Q was coming today. And this would be the day where I finally get into the government nitty gritty crap.

I put my hands on my head as I walked back and forth in my room. This was stressful. I hadn't seen C in a day, and he had become my only comfort at this place. I was also scared because when I left here, I would probably never see him again.

I heard something move behind me. I quickly turned around . And there he was.

Q was standing there looking at me. His face was kind of scrunched up.

"Geez, It took you that long to notice me? I've been here for five minutes!" He said sighing. God, he was annoying.

"Well, clearly I didn't notice you! DO you know all of the mental stress I am going through right now? I haven't slept right since, I don't know,... forever?" I didn't scream at him, it was more of a rant.

"God, whatever, that's not why I'm here, Soot. Our plan is finally set in motion." He, then creepily stepped towards me and pulled out a syringe. "Calm down Soot. This'll be quick." He said before plunging the needle into my lower arm.

And that's all I remember from that day. I didn't get to say goodbye to C.

I woke up lightheaded on a couch... I think. I sat up and looked around. I was on an airplane.

Wait, an airplane?

I looked out the window to see the vehicle above the clouds. Maybe millions of feet in the air.

"I see you're finally awake, Wilbur,"

Wow, why can't I never see this guy when we're in the same room together? Can he turn invisible, or is he a ninja?

I turned my head sharply to see the man that got me into this mess in the first place. I looked Q up and down. His outfit was surprisingly more laid back than usual. He wore a blue jacket with white stripes. His joggers matched. And his damned beanie. He was smirking. Why was he so cocky?

"So, let's get straight to business. You already know about the murders, but you don't know who we suspect is the culprit right?" He looked at me. I shook my head.

"Right. So the person we are looking for, his name is Dream and-" I cut him off.

"So, you're seriously telling me that only one person did all those murders across the world?" It was stupid if this enormous government agency really thought one person did all those killings.

"No, dumbass, of course not!" He retorted, scrunching up his nose. "You didn't let me finish! I was SAYING his name is Dream and he is a leader of a huge gang that is scattered all across the world. But we just think it's smart to go straight to the queen instead of going for the little work bees." He said folding his arms. "Our plane is headed for Paris. The beginning of our plan starts there. I'll tell you the rest there."

"Why can't you tell me now? Where on a flight to France aren't we? That's a long trip."

"Do you know how long you've been asleep? You've been gone for like 7 hours!" He laughed for some reason. Then he walk to a door and then went inside the room.

He was in there for a couple minutes.

He came out of the room holding a weird looking syringe. Oh hell no. Not again.

I stood up and backed away to the other side of the room.

"Awe c'mon Will" He said extending the L and the end of my name. "It's not gonna hurt you, and I promise, you won't fall asleep, you'll be wide awake."

"Then what will the needle do?"

"It's for me to put a tracker in your body, Soot. It'll dissolve into your blood stream in about a month." He looked at the needle and walked towards me. Why was I scared of him? I'm almost a foot taller than him. I guess I just felt smaller somehow.

I must have zoned out, because all of a sudden he was in the front of me, looking up at me, smiling. I froze.

"I hope you don't randomly daydream all the time, Soot." He said. I felt something cold against my neck. Q's face was very close to mine.

He was on his toes. It would have been funny if I didn't have a needle in my neck.

Q removed the syringe from my neck.

"See? It wasn't that bad right?"

I mean he was right, it barely hurt-

I coughed. And that I saw

blood.

-Chapter 9-

Blood. Yes blood. Everywhere.

I felt lightheaded. God it was everywhere. The red liquid spewed from my mouth, making my throat feel sore.

I heard a weird squeak sound and feet hitting the ground. Did Q run away from seeing blood? Wow.

I fell to the floor. The vomiting had stopped, but I could still taste the tang of metal and iron on my tongue. My brain was spazzing out. I was trying to find a reason why I had started spitting up blood as soon as I had gotten the injection.

I felt hands on my back and chest. They had sat me up right.

"God, that is a hell of an amount of blood." Q gaged. He was hold a pen.

I coughed out more blood. "Ew, that's disgusting." Q squirmed. He quickly stabbed the pen in my arm. My poor arm. It's practically has been abused every since I got in this mess.

A chill went up my spine. I shuttered. I no longer felt like I had to vomit anymore but that didn't mean I no longer felt like absolute crap. The taste of blood settled on my tongue. Dry blood was left on my lips. My clothing and the floor surrounding me was soaked in blood. It was horrific.

"Geez, know I have to clean this whole thing up." Q stood up at grabbed a towel. Before he did anything though, he looked at me. "You should probably rest, I'll grab you a water from the fridge."

And with that, I stood up carefully (with the help of Q) and laid down for the rest of the ride to Paris. Q watched me vigilantly while I tried to fall asleep. But, eventually, sleep caught up to me, and I fell asleep to a dreamless slumber.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 10-

Wilbur POV:

I had a long day. A bloody long one (pun intended). I am happy I fell asleep, I needed the rest.

Q ended up waking me up. He had eye bags under his eyes. Had he watched me sleep? It was sweet, since I had just been sick a couple hours ago. It was also creepy. For obvious reasons of course.

We had walked to the front of the plane. God, the plane was huge. We had walked for a couple minutes. When we reached the front door, Q pulled out a pair a handcuffs. I wasn't surprised. I just lifted my wrists up. Q attached the cuffs and led me out of the plane. We had a long trip. He went from taxi to cab leading up to a nice-looking hotel in the middle of nowhere.

"Welcome to Base 5, or otherwise known as Prismarine Hotel by the outside world." Q said swiftly walking us both up the large marble stairs into the 'base'.

It looked like a five star hotel. What did he mean by 'base'? This place looked like a spot where crazy rich people hung out for fun.

While I was day dreaming, Q talked, or should I say, whispered, to the person over the counter. They handed him a key to our room. Q called me, quickly taking me out of my day dream.

"Hellooo, earth to Wilbur! Let's go man." He took off my hand cuffs, then grabbed my very sore wrists, leading me to our room. Our room was on the 10th floor of the building. Very tall.

Once we had reached our room, we simply took a break from each other. Q told me he was going to make a couple calls since they both had landed safely. I went into a room with a comfy looking bed. I know I had just gone to sleep, but the sheets were practically calling me.

I woke up about two hours later. It surprised me that Q didn't wake me up. I looked out the windows. It was gorgeous. The bluish hues in the sky carefully mixing in with the purple and orange making up the sun set. I decided it was time for me to look for Q.

Q was easy to find. He was shouting at his phone in a tiny office. The door was closed. I choose to eaves drop for a bit before I barged in on him.

"Yes, sir, Yes. I told you I've got this mission. You don't need to send backup, me and Soot got this.... Yes, everything is going according to plan. Schlatt, seriously it's going to be fine I-" He paused. "One second, S, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

Then quiet. Can he hear me? How? I was barely breathing. And he was talking to S, Agent S? Was Agent S' real name Schlatt? Well, a weird name for a weird person.

The door opened suddenly.

"Really? Spying on me? I knew you were here you know."

Seriously, how did this man know where I was at all times? Did he have powers?

"I was going to wake you up anyway. We have to talk about what is to be done this week."

We walked over to the couch and sat uncomfortably close to each. It was an accident. I think. Maybe Q just wanted to make sure I heard the plan?

"Listen close Soot, because I'm only saying this once." He took a deep breath. So did I. "So, here's the plan."

-Chapter 11-

I stood outside of a building. I waiting for my signal. Looking around, I saw very posh looking people entering the building. My heart was racing. What was I about to do?

I felt someone tap my back. It was Q. That was the signal. The plan had begun.

Our target was some guy named George. Q jokingly called him Jorge. He was a British fella who also happened to be one of Dream's right hand men. The description Q had given me was not as vivid as I would have liked. He had brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and was currently wearing a black tuxedo with a black bowtie. He could seriously be anyone. I fixed my tie. Q and I walked into the building, it was a casino. It already reeked of smoke from cigarettes and cigars, and we were barely inside.

Q was calm. I don't know how. He must have done this a million times.

We separated. I went to the far end of a bar. I was supposed to indicate when I saw George. Even though Q's description of the man was vage, he told me I'd know him when I saw him.

I ordered a beer. I didn't want to look too suspicious.

The murmur in the bar had lowered. It was more like whispers. Something had changed. I looked up. Yep, that's him. Surrounded by two bodyguards. He made it too obvious. But the guards looked tough. How was Q going to get to him?

I turned to the bartender. "Hey, can you get that man with the scar at the end of the bar a shot of whiskey?" The bartender nodded, fixed the shot, and sent it down to Q.

Q stared at me and gave me a look. I nodded.

It was game time.

-Chapter 12-

Agent Q's POV:

Calm. Breathe.

Is all I could say to myself as I walked towards the man. George. We had met before. I wonder if he remembers me. Probably not. I was a loser back when we met.

"Hello George." I said. I sounded reassured and calm. But really my anxiety was through the roof. I had learnt how to speak with different accents, so I had decided to add Parisian accent to my voice.

George turned to me, his eyes questioning me. He looked me up and down. I was wearing something I never usually wore. Nice, clean navy blue tuxedo with a black bowtie. Wilbur told me I looked good. I smiled. A next reason he won't recognize me.

"And who are you? What business do you have with me? And get it on quick, I have work to do."

Probably to find a next victim. I thought.

"I'm Alexandre. I wanted to make a business deal with you, and heard that you were coming to this casino." Alexandre? Really? I mean it was close to my middle name, Alex. But it was all I could think of at the time. "You a gambler? Want to play black jack in that private room while we discuss?" I pointed to a door at the back of the casino.

George looked at me curiously, but said "Sure... my business can wait, we can talk." He signal for his guards to leave, then we walked to the room. Was he planning on making me his victim?

Calm.

When I got into character I was calm. The character I was playing was Alexandre. He ran a business tycoon of popular French restaurants all over Paris. He's looking to make a deal with George. I have done my research on him and found out he liked to invest in these sort of things.

I closed the door behind us. We were meet with our dealer. He was an agent of course. Agent F, his real name was Agent Foolish. This was his first mission. Why'd they always have to give me the newbies.

He looked nervous. I mean I get it. George was super powerful. But still he didn't have to make it that obvious.

We sat down in front of the hemisphere shaped table. Lucky, I know how to play blackjack. Foolish started to deal.

"So, Q how've you been?" George smirked looking at me. Shit. He knew who I was? How?

I laughed. It was all I could do.

"What do you mean, mon ami (my friend)? My name is Alexandre, not some letter." I laughed again. I needed to be calm, this was not helping. I don't even know how he could remember me.

"Umm.. are you guys still playing?"

" Of course we're still playing! I just wanted to ask a simple question is all." He looked at the stupid dealer then back at me. "You know, a little birdie told me that they gave you a raise, and now look at you! You're out in Paris doing big boy missions!" I felt my face heat up. Once a loser, always a loser, huh? "Good for you, Q! Great French accent by the way. Anyways what are we betting on? How much?"

I sighed I'll just have to change my plan. He already knew who I was. Sure, it'll be completely last minute, but I can't fail this mission, we needed George. It's also my biggest mission yet.

I brought out a small bag and put a couple hundreds on the table. George oohed and decided to wager the same amount.

"So, you here with someone else? I'm guessing the agency still do the thing where you do missions in partners?"

"Oh no. I was trusted to do this mission alone. Agent S trusts me, you know." Quickly forgetting my accent.

"Oh, of course he does, you should know him better that anyone else." He scoffed.

I looked at my deck. Not my luckiest pick of cards, but it'll do.

"So, why've you come? To Paris, I mean. You guys miss me at the agency, or something? Last minute mission? I'll be glad to help you know. Ever since I left.."

Right. If you couldn't guess by now, George used to work with me. Well, the agency, not me. I was Schlatt's assistant. Actually more like servant, or toy. Slave? I was forced to work with them. It wasn't really my choice to be here. At least this shit pays well.

"Ah, somewhat. Agent S' been thinking about calling you back to work with us..." This was a lie. I realized that I've become somewhat of a pathological liar since I started working here. But it's fine. Lies run the world. Truth just hides in the shadows and just powers the lies.

George makes somewhat of a surprised scoff. "R-really? Are you serious? I-I've been thinking of coming back. You know, I'm still in my twenties, I need to enjoy them! And I do miss the adventure and traveling." George was 28. He was barely in his twenties. Well, maybe I can't talk. I am 26. Old. Well, I feel old.

"Hah, I won! 21! Your money's mine Jorge!" I took George's money while he gave me a pissed off face.
"I was never good at blackjack was I?" He sighed.

George was distracted. It was clear as day. I gave a look to Agent F. He nodded.

"Well, George, my win was really the cherry on top, wasn't it?" He looked at me, confused, but then soon after, the door behind us was forced open, and there stood Wilbur holding a gun. During the week I left him at Base 1, the doctors had taught how to shoot, and handle a gun. And I had to say, he did know how to hold a gun. I mean-

George looked shocked. He stood up. But I beat him to it. I was stronger than him. I grabbed his shoulders and put him into a head lock. Agent F and Soot held their guns. Foolish and a next agent were to bring George to a base through a back door. Me and Soot's job was done for now.

Wilbur's POV:

We laughed as we walked to the car. "You didn't need to make the key phrase so obvious, you know. 'George my win was a cherry on top'" I said through wheezes.

"Hey! I do not sound like that! But how else was I supposed to say it smarty pants!" Q reached the car door first. He opened it. "Ladies first." He said mockingly.

"Shut up." I groaned. My face heated up. Definitely embarrassment. I think. You know I thought Q was going to be an annoying person. I mean, he still was annoying, but he wasn't a bad person.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 13-

Wilbur's POV:

I had gotten closer to Q. Our friendship was weird. We'd talk and laugh and then Q would talk about how George was doing. Who, by the way, was currently our prisoner. Yep, we kidnapped him. Anywhere we go we see missing posters of him. It's unsettling to know we were the one's that took him.

We took a week break. Well, I took one. Q was almost always in that damned office. Doing work or avoiding me, I don't know.

But today we were doing something... different.

"We have to get information out of George."

Q grabbed a briefcase. It looked heavy, I probably couldn't carry it, but he could. He was strong. You could tell. Q was buff (Buff Q, lol).

"And how are we going to do that? He doesn't seem like the type of person to just give up and tell us everything he knows."

"I know that, trust me. But I do have my ways..." He gestured to the case. He started for the door of our hotel room.

"What's in the briefcase anyways, its not like we're going to a meeting." I said walking behind him.

"You are really annoying, you know. You see what in here when we get to Base 13."

Q looked at me. I held out my wrists as he took it and opened the door. Even though I couldn't run anywhere, he grabbed my wrist tightly.

Base 13 was not what I expected. Base 13 was disguised as a restaurant. It looked like those small family pop restaurant. It was quaint. It didn't really look like it held someone captive.

13 is a special number. In the sense of astrology and spiritual guidance it stands for tests, suffering and usually death. It's a deadly number. But, it is a sense of death to a period of struggle, and to new beginnings. It's a beautifully sad number. But what we were about to do to George was not going to be beautiful.

When we got inside Q immediately made a hard turn straight to the back of the counter where food was served. When we got there, there was chefs busy at work but they seemed not to notice us. Which was weird. People usually would notice a fairly tall British man walking around with a guy who had scars on his face. And compared to me, Q looked short. Like really short.

Q led me to a trapdoor behind the kitchen. He pulled it up revealing stairs leading down to some sort of basement.

"You can go first, Wil." Q said, gesturing to the opening. I just nodded and walk down. It smelt like pepper and burnt hair. Not pleasing at all. I could hear Q's heavy foot steps behind me. When I reached the bottom, I looked around. The walls of the basement were covered with the number 13 in different fonts. Creepy. Looked like it came straight out of a horror movie. I immediately hated it.

"I am so happy you guys took me to a different base.." Q stood next to me.

"Of course we took you to a different base. This place is special. It's for torture." He said simply. Wait What? Torture? I- And he said this like it meant nothing. I looked at his briefcase and back to him. Q started walking.

"Wait, did you say torture? Like actual torture?" I sprinted to keep up with him. We were taking different twists and turns, and the base still look creepy, even more so the more we went in. There some blood stains on the walls, which were dirty and covered with grime. The number 13 had become bigger and more eerie.

Q smirked. Of course he did. Every time I show some sort of fear he thinks it funny. It's not. "Duh! How do you think we'll get information out of him? Say pretty please?" He rolled his eyes. I sighed. Obviously we were about to torture a man. The more I walk the more illegal things get.

"And luckily we won't have to try to hard. Soon after George left the agency, they started a program we would have to do to get through torture. And since George wasn't able to get that..." Q smiled.

"So how'd the program work? Did they..." I looked at him. He looked somewhat...scared? I don't know. I never saw him frightened.

"Uh, yeah they, uhm, tortured us for a couple days, but at least I can go through that can of stuff without spilling government secrets." Q quickly looked away from me. God, did the agency just do torture just so they would keep quiet? They put them through that.

"Did Agent C do that too?"

"Everyone did it. From the actual agents down to the assistants and janitors that cleaned the place. Everyone involved. Oh, we're here."

The door looked like the only normal thing here. It was just a black door. It had a lock on it. Q brought out a key. He was whistling while he unlocked the door. It was so unsettling. I guess I should be used to things being creepy. But, somehow, the inside of the room was creepier.

They had gotten rid of the theme of 13. There was a cold metal table in the middle of the room. The room had an off white color to the walls. Other than the table and a chair, the room was empty. Well, not completely empty. There was someone in the chair. And who was in the chair you ask? George. I mean of course he was there.

He was tied to a chair. He immediately noticed us. He was pissed. But he couldn't talk. He was gagged.

Q laughed. A laugh that sent a shiver down my spine.

"How are you Georgie? How was your week?" Q closed the door behind me. George gave back a couple angry muffles and Q sighed. "Right, you have that thing on your face." He walked over to George and took off the gag(a cloth >:().

After that George said a couple swear words I'd rather not repeat. Then Q shushed him. He put the heavy briefcase on the table. "Hmm... I don't know... you know what... what do you wait today George?" He opened the case revealing three things. A pair of huge scissors, an axe and a knife (instead of a sword lol, oh and if you don't know these are the actual thing he use to torture Dream in prison).

George look horrified. Actually I feel like I was too. The tools look already used. The axe still had dried blood on it. Q finally broke the silence. "So?"

It was horrible. I watched the whole thing. There was so much blood. And screaming. I couldn't look away. George was shaking. Q was asking questions about where 'Sapnap' was. But George wasn't giving in. Even though his arm was bleeding really badly. He cut into George's skin. He put the axe under George's chin. "Well, are you going to tell me, mi amor? Or do you have to feel my axe to understand my question?" George didn't answer. "You know, you just have to tell me where he's going to be next couple of weeks, and then I'll turn you into the authorities, and you'll never see me again. It's that simple Georgie." George didn't open his mouth.

Q sighed. He pulled the axe head from under George's chin. Then he pulled the axe back, he looked like he was going to chop George's head off. I closed my eyes tight. I did not want to watch this.

"Wait!"

I open my eyes. George looked horrified. "I'll- I'll tell you where he's going ok! Just don't kill me please!" He was on the verge of tears. Q smiled, showing his gold teeth. He turned to me.

"Told you I have my ways. Now get the tape recorder." He used his bloody finger to point to the small box in the corner.

As I walked to pick up the box, I realized, maybe I shouldn't get on Q's bad side.

-Chapter 14-

??? POV:

It was cold. Dark

I was sent on a petty mission to go get a new 'agent'. I did something Agent S didn't like. Of course he sent me on a small mission.

The alleyway was quiet. And I was honestly on my last nerve. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins. I wanted to get this over with.

"I found it..." I breathed.

The house was a small two story house. Not what I was expecting. I thought only the best of the best got picked for this type of shit. Not some nobody who lives with his mom.

I sighed deeply.

This'll be easy.

I quickly snuck around to the back of the house and looked for an opening into the house. It was so simple that it was scary. The back door was unlocked. I slowly snuck into the house. I searched for a distraction.

Perfect. Glass.

I moved slowly to the vase. It looked majorly expensive compared to the rest of the house. He won't be needing it anyway. He'll be able to buy hundreds of vases like this when he gets his new salary.

I grabbed the vase and smashed it against a wall. I dashed to hide, pulling out a needle.

I heard a couple things stir, then footsteps coming down the stairs. I quietly prayed that it was the right person. I turned the corner. Yep, that's him.

He was small and skinny, with a huge tuff of dark, wavy hair on his head.. He was carefully examining the broken vase shards on the floor, with a clear frown on his face. He looked like he had smooth, soft skin that was tanned nicely. He had chocolate brown eyes to match.

"!Mamá, el jarrón se rompió!" I heard an upset noise come from upstairs and the boy sighed. He was around my age. The file said he was 21 years old. This agency was going to steal his youth, just like they did with me.

I've been hiding too long.

I moved swiftly, Quickly stabbing the syringe in the back of his neck and covering his mouth to muffle the scream. He did something unusual. He struggled. People usually fell straight to sleep, or just passed out. He tried to get out of my grip, but I was stronger than him. At that time, of course.

Once I brought the boy to Base 10, Agent S' favourite base, I learned his name. Or letter, I should say. But that was his name now, everyone in his life was to refer to him as Q. Agent Q. He was no longer allowed to speak to his family or old friends.

My name was Agent G. My forgotten name was George. I missed when people called me that. Just George.

Agent Q wasn't really an agent. He was more of a play thing for Agent S. I think S somehow stumbled upon Q, and used him as the perfect opportunity to humiliate me and get a 'pet' at the same time.

He hurt Q. How do you think he got that scar?

He put Q in unnecessary danger for his amusement.

Explosions. Gun fights. Gang wars. Even locking him in a cell with a serial cannibal with a knife. But instead of 'pet', agents called Q an assistant.

Agent S was crazy.

But he practically ruled the world, with presidents, prime ministers, kings and queens, and just really powerful people trusting him. It was like the gods' way of playing some sick joke. But it wasn't funny.

I left. Soon after Q got that scar, I left. I couldn't deal with it anymore.

But now I want to go back. But not for the reason you're thinking.

I want to destroy the agency and destroy him.

I want to kill S.

-Chapter 15-

Wilbur's POV:

The cell door closed with a loud clang. George was sitting in the corner of the cell, which was now his. George's eyes looked lifeless. Like every last bit of his soul was sucked out of him. His arm was wrapped in a sling. The doctor had said he would no longer be able to use his left arm. He was left handed. Q really did screw his arm up.

I felt sorry for him. But we got what we needed. When George was finished spilling his guts about everything he knew, he begged us to put him in prison. It was sickening. Who knew what a little torture could do to a person.

I looked at his arm, which was still tinged pink from blood loss.

I had left him a book and pencil. I immediately regretted it though. He couldn't move his left arm. Why did I do that!

He thanked me either way. He blankly said he'd need something to pass the time. Then he chuckled darkly and said he could write an autobiography. It creeped me out.

We had to plan.

As soon as we got to the hotel, we schemed. It was tough though. Especially with Agent S calling every second. He was like a worried dad. Or boyfriend. Didn't he have other missions to check on? Q knew how to handle himself. Why was he always calling? He was an adult, not some teenager with a gun.

And every time Q was finished talking to him, he seemed upset. Well, not seemed, was. He always was nervous and jittery, something I knew Q wasn't. Was S that scary of a boss, or was something going on?

I gained more information on this 'Sapnap' person. Sapnap wasn't his real name of course, it was just his street name.

He was a gambler. A spender. A partier and a drinker.

He was in New York. Fancy. Apparently he was going to a party. A huge one. It was going to be hard to find him.

George said that he was even closer to Dream. That we would get whatever we wanted to know about Dream from him, Sapnap. But, obviously, he was going to be harder to break.

Q and I slightly expected him to be in a casino, like George, but nope, it was somewhere unexpected.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 16-

...Log #20...

Day 24

I finally can write with my right hand. It took a while. I've gotten pretty good at it.

I've been thinking about the agency a lot since I've gotten into prison. Which isn't a surprise since they're the reason I'm here. I'm not the one behind the crimes and the... blood. I just happened to make friends with a criminal.

Dream had figured out I used to work for the government, then I found out he was the head of a gang. Funny, right? He promised he'd help me get rid of S as long as I helped him. I guess you could say I was his partner in crime. I helped him find some... victims. Sure, how he killed them was cruel, but it was for the greater good.

His first victim, Gabriel, used to be his old pal. A friend. But they got into a fight. About Dream's (now ex) girlfriend. Apparently Gabriel hit on her. And Dream just got mad. Yes, sure some might say it's petty to kill someone over something so small, but it happened. They were both in the kitchen of Gabriel's apartment. He used a butcher knife. Dream decided to take a souvenir. His hands. The ones he touch his girl with.

But, Dream got addicted. He yearned that rush of being 'on the run'. He liked taking lives. The next person he killed was a friend of Gabriel. It was a downwards spiral from there. Horrid.

Before I got caught, I gave names.

And addresses.

Well.. not names, letters...

Dream is coming

For them.

-Chapter 17-

Agent C's POV:

There was no bodies.

Since Wilbur and Q left, there's been none. It's weird. It's like the killer is scared. They're hiding out. Lurking. Watching.

Today was a slow day. Since there's been no bodies to examine, doctors have been going home.

Sleeping in their own beds.

Isn't that crazy?

I'm lonely.

Since I've started going home I've realized that. No wife. No girlfriend. No kids. No dog. No cat. Just me. Plain old goopy me. It's sad really. I'm 28 with no nothing.

My house is empty. I'm rich but poor. How is that even possible?

I rest my keys on the dining room table to hear the odd clink of the metal hitting wood. It was magical but unfamiliar.

I yawn. I'm tired.

I take off my lab coat and automatically head to 'my' bedroom.

My in quotation marks because it doesn't feel like my own.

I am really sleepy. Tired out of my mind.

So tired I'm imagining a man in black standing in the corner of my room.

wait.

I scream.

I am not sleepy. The man is real. He moves. I run.

When I make it to the front door, the keys won't budge. But didn't I just use these a second ago?

A towel covered my face. It smelt of a familiar sickly sweet smell. I immediately knew what it was. I tried to escape, but it was too late. I had fallen asleep.

I woke up tied to a chair. Why didn't I just stay at the base? I had nothing at home anyway.

The man was there. He wore a mask with a smile on it. Unsettling. He held an axe. I was dead. About to be murdered by...

"Dream?" a voice squeaked. My voice. I hadn't realized I wasn't gaged. I shuddered. Did he want to hear me scream before I die?

He just nodded as if I got his name right. Funny how the case I'd spent years on solving was going to be the death of me.

I couldn't see. My eyes were blinded by tears. Dream came closer. This was it.

"Are you going to say anything before you kill me?"

He paused. Then he lifted his axe up in a chopping position.

"Your head will look nice with the others."

Then he swung down and all I saw was blood.

-Chapter 18-

Wilbur's POV:

It was raining. It was like the sky was crying. Q and I were on our way to New York.

We had just gotten news yesterday that a next dead body was found, decapitated. But that's not all. It was found at C's house. Yep, Agent C. Found dead. Or that's what we think. The body looked like his. But his head was missing. Completely gone from the scene. It also didn't look like the murder happened at his house. That's what Q said anyway.

Q was distraught. Him and C seemed really close.

I was really upset. C was practically my best friend while I was in custody at the base.

After we discussed the murder file, we didn't talk. We couldn't. Q was muttering to himself in his office while I just slept, it was all I felt like doing. Then we went on the plane.

It was pouring rain as I watched the tiny droplets fall and splatter on the small plane window. It was calming. I needed calm. I glanced at Q. He was staring vacantly at a random book. The cover was made of brown leather. It looked frequently used even though I never saw him read it. Weird.

We landed safely in the private airport. It was hushed and quiet.

We walked with a slow pace to the airport building, the rain drops beating our heads and shoulders. Q didn't bother to put the handcuffs on me. I think he didn't notice. I didn't move from his side anyway.

Q suddenly stopped walking. I looked back at him. He was looking at a small picnic area. It looked like a cute fairy garden. I sighed. The small beads of rain trickled down our faces like tear drops. Or maybe Q was crying. We both walked into the abandoned garden.

Loads of pink shining flowers were blooming out of the bushes. They looked vibrant compared to the gray skies and our dark mood. I picked two blossoms. I gave one to Q. The flower was freckled with small red dots. It had slight tints of purple and magenta at the edges of the petals. Q looked kind of shocked, but he took the flower. The look in his eyes told me he was thanking me mentally.

The other flower was for C. I went to a pretty spot next to a small tree and dug a tiny hole. I laid the flower inside. I knelt down next to the tree, feeling the rain hit hard against my back. I felt Q stand next to me. He was humming a slow song. It sounded like a funeral song. My eyes pricked with tears.

I started to cover the already wilting flower with dirt, filling the whole. My heart hurt. Even if we couldn't go to his real funeral, at least we could celebrate his life here. He would've liked that.

I heard Q whimper. This had to hurt him more than me. I stood up. I put my hand behind his back.

"We should go."

Q nodded. He held on the pink flower tightly. I smiled sadly.

We walked inside the building, sudden bitter coldness hitting us both like a brick. We were drenched. Soaking wet.

And the only thing bright in that scene was the drooping rosy bloom, dripping with rain water

Chapter Text

-Chapter 19-

Agent Q's POV:

I found a new page in my fairly used journal. I got it from my mom. I miss her. I placed my flower in between two pages and found a piece of tape. I write 'flower from Wilbur, 11/21/21' on it (the date's written the American way) and taped the flower to the page. Then I close the book. I wanted to savor the gift. Remember it. It was sweet of him to give it to me.

Fuck.

Schlatt was calling me. Of course he was. That man never gave me a break. I picked up the phone.

"Where are you?" No 'hi' or 'how are you?' Rude. He knew I just lost my best friend.

"Soot and I are at base 50, he's in his bedroom, I'm in my office." I breathed. Sometimes it was hard talking to Schlatt. Because of the fact that he hurt me. Physically and other ways as well. Other ways I am too embarrassed to mention.

"Good. I don't want you to go anywhere else unnecessary, ok? Your my best agent. I don't want to lose you like Charlie."

Ha. Sure. Like I was going to fall for that. I knew he just wanted to keep me in the palm of his hand. I was his puppet after all.

"Yes Schlatt, whatever."

"What did you say?" The way he said it made my skin crawl. It was harsh yet demanding. I hated it. He never really talked to me this way. He spoke to me like I was a child or as if I was stupid. Either way, he talked to me as if I was bellow him.

"I said yes sir, agent S."

"I thought so." Then there was an awkward silence. I could never hold a conversation with Schlatt. Never.

"Well, good bye. Call me when you get back from finding Sapnap. Good luck." Then he hung up. Of course he did.

He annoyed me. He irked the my soul. Deep down, I wanted to strangle him. For all of the things he's done to me. And he's down a lot. I want to punch him. I just want to grab an axe and-

"Hey Q are you ok?"

I turn around to see a tall man standing at my door. Wilbur.

"Yeah, I'm ok."

"Are you sure? You're sweating and holding your gun really tightly."

"Huh? I'm holding my gun?" I looked down to see my fingers on my gun, about ready to cock it. Jeez, S really was making me mad. "I-I just need to cool off. Wanna go for a quick walk before we need to get ready?"

"Sure!"

As we walked to the door to grab our coats I thought about what S said. Sure, I was disobeying his orders, but really, I didn't care. He wasn't here to stop me.

Wilbur's POV:

Why. Why were these criminals hiding in the most cliché of places?

I stood outside of a small very well disguised building. From the outside you would think it's just some regular bar, or even a barber shop. But no... It's a...

"Have you ever been to a strip club before Soot? It seems like you haven't." Q whispered standing next to me. I sighed. That obvious?

"Well, no, but that's because I've been focusing on college and work. I haven't really had time for stuff like this."

He laughed. That damn laugh. "You're 21 and never been to a strip club?" He chuckled. "Yeah, 'school', you're just too much of a pussy to go to one."

"What n-no!" I felt my face heat up. I was probably as red as a cherry tomato. Q giggled.

"Let's just go in. The sooner we finish this, the better."

We walked in. The inside was what I expected. Or what I've seen in movies. Lights flashing in different color. Loud music blasting in the back round. Men (and women) sitting in couches showering the dancers in dollar bills. I couldn't look away. It was so...weird? I don't even know how to describe it. It was so much to take in.

"You like it?" Q said suddenly. I looked at Q, remembering he was there.

"Not really... I don't know, it's not my thing"

"Eh fair. Clubs like these aren't everyone's thing." He sighed, examining the place. "New York. Random club. It just screams Sapnap. He's probably in the corner of a booth drinking a beer or something."

We were both in disguises again. Q said to be on high alert, because George recognized him. But George was in the agency. I'm sure Sapnap won't know us.

Q was dressed like a divorced dad. That's what I told him. He just cursed at me and I laughed at him. He wore a old Hawaiian t-shirt button up. I wore something more laidback than usual.

Just a dirty t-shirt and cargo khaki shorts. To be honest, we both looked like divorced dads. Like our life went so down hill, we started wearing socks with sandals. Literally.

We scanned the large room looking for the drunkard. Q pushed up his New York Yankees baseball cap. Yep, we went all the way. Even a baseball hat.

"I see him. Look." Q pointed. My eyes followed his finger as a guide to find Sapnap. I saw him. He was a man of average height, dressed somehow different than I expected. He wore black cargo pants with a checkered t-shirt and converse, He had brown hair and fair skin, which was slightly freckled. He had small stubble above his lip. He held a shot glass he had just emptied. He waved his hand indicating to the waiter that he wanted more.

"So, what's the plan again?" He laughed.

"We repeated it five times Soot, you could've forgotten it again."

"I'm kidding.. I think." I sighed, then he smiled at me.

"Good luck. Wilbur." We both started to head towards Sapnap's table. Then he saw us.

I looked at him. In the eyes. The eyes of a killer. And I swear, somewhere in his eyes, I saw a hint of excitement. And I immediately knew it was going to be a long night.

-Chapter 20-

"What do you fuckers want?" The rude raven haired man said as he got a refill of his copper colored drink.

"A talk with you, friend, if your up for it? We could play a game of beer pong, bet 20 pounds?" Q said in a British accent. How could he mock it so easily? He pulled out a 20 pound note.

"Oh, so your foreign? Is your friend too?" Sapnap said, slurring his words. Rude. Was he just a rude person or was it just because he has drunk?

"I'm not foreign."

He scoffed. "So, yes. Sure, I'll play with you. I play better drunk anyways."

We walked over to a pool table that was conveniently set up for a game of beer pong. Must be Q's doing. Sapnap didn't take notice to this convenience though. All he was focused on was the money.

"So, twenty dollars? I'll risk it."

The game started. They accounted me as ref. Good. I didn't even know how to play beer pong. I would've been bad at it anyway. I have a bad aim. Sapnap was losing. Badly. At some point I think he was missing on purpose just so he could chug down the harsh liquor in the red cups. Q looked focused. I knew he liked winning. And losing to a boozer would really hurt his ego. I think Q liked to gamble. Maybe the risk and the adrenaline he felt while playing. Or maybe he liked winning. Speaking of winning...

"16-4!" I announced the score.

"Ha! I won! My prize?" Q said, still managing to keep his perfect British accent. He sounded more British than me.

Sapnap hissed. He clearly forgot money was involved. He shyly held out his money and Q snatched it.

"What's you guys' names anyways? You just step into this club and take my money and I don't even know who you are."

"I'm Harry, this is Jared."

I wave my hand. So I'm Jared. Why'd he have to choose so much of a British name.

Sapnap looked vacantly at the both of us. The booze must have caught up to him. Then he took a swig of his glass. His eyes landed back on Q. They squinted.

"Anyways we wanted to talk about-"

"Hey! I know you! You're that guy with the scar Gogy talked about! You took him!" He scrunched up his face. Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

I usually don't curse, but now seems like a good time to.

Q's face was confused but as calm as ever. "I have never meet a 'gogy' in my life and have no idea what you're on about my friend. You must have had a little too much to drink tonight."

Of course. The scar. That's always our giveaway. We really need some makeup or something to cover that thing.

"No, I know who I am talkin' about! You're him! The Q guy!" Sapnap's face was red from yelling and what looked like anger. The club was silent besides from the happy, cheery pop music and the slight clinking of glasses. Everyone was staring at us. The lushes, the bartenders, and even the dancers were looking at us. Talk about awkward.

Sapnap didn't really care. He mumbled something then dug into his pocket.

Then he pulled out a gun.

Some people screamed (including me). Q looked somewhat shocked for a split second, then he steeled himself, and pulled out his pistol. I knew Agent Q carried a gun, I did as well ever since I got brought into this whole mess. But the last thing I thought would happen tonight was a gun fight.

I took a quick breath and pulled out my gun, while chaos ensued around us. People screaming and running for the door, calling the police (like they're going to do anything, we're agents), some hiding in the private dance rooms. It was a sight. A horrific sight.

Sapnap fired his warning shot at Q and he ducked just in time. Some back up agents swarmed around us and shot bullets at Sapnap, which he surprisingly dodged, even though he was terribly tipsy.

Many shots were fired. Q yelled at me to stay near the floor, out of the direction of fire. It saddened me for some odd reason. I was watching the shoot out carefully, like a hawk. Then I saw something Q didn't. Q was giving directions to some agents to start moving in on Sapnap, causing him to look away for a split second. Then Sapnap reloaded his gun, took aim at Q's head, put his hand on the trigger then-

I reacted.

I stood up quickly, drawing my gun, and shoot Sapnap, right in the shoulder. His gun landed to the floor, accidentally setting off the trigger. The bullet flew towards an agent landing right in his leg. There were surprised screams from both. with tears in the corners of his eyes, Sapnap held his right shoulder and ran towards Q. He tackle him to the floor, landing on top of him. He started to punch him with his left hand. Q angrily hit back. Sapnap was only able to land two blows when some agents pried him off Q. Sapnap was still screaming curses and empty threats at us as he was dragged off into an ambulance. Yep, the police were there. Told you they wouldn't do anything.

Q sighed as he got off the floor, standing next to me. He wiped blood off his cheek. "George talked about me?" That's concerning. If he talked about Q, what else has he talked about. What did he tell 'Dream'. I looked at him.

"Ooh, you're going to have to let me fix that up, Q."

"What?"

"You're bleeding badly. Some of your scar opened up. I'm going to have to stitch it. How'd did you get that scar anyways?"

"Oh, it's nothing.. interesting. I love it if you could fix it up though."

"Of course."

-Chapter 21-

...Log #52... (George's POV):

Time is passing. A week ago (I think), some random police officers sedated me, and I woke up in chains inside of an airplane. Classy. They must have finally decided to bring me to America, since I was still in France. There were a lot off bases in America, because the operation was born there. I'm just happy they allowed me to have my journal.

But, enough about my eventful week. I wanted to write about something that has been on my mind lately. What brought me to leave the agency for good.

Agent G's POV (about 4 years ago):

I was late. I rushed up some stairs leading to Agent S' office, my boss. He was going to shout at me for sure. I was doing last minute checks with some of the doctors around the base and lost track of time. And it totally slipped my mind about the written report I had to turn it. He was going to kill me.

I looked at my watch. 11:55 am. 51 minutes late? I was dead meat.

When it struck 12:05 pm on my watch, I finally made it to his office. I took a deep breath. Please forget I had to turn this in an hour ago...

When I opened the door, I saw something I wasn't expecting. I saw something so sickening, I would rather be unemployed than work there.

Agent S had a large office. So large, that he, in fact, did not hear me open his office door.

He had his assistant, Agent Q I think, pinned to the wall. He was shirtless, Q I mean. And he did not look happy. He was not looking at me, but he was looking vacantly at anywhere around the room but S. I couldn't see S' face. But you could tell by his stance that he was smirking hard.

Agent Q was not pleased. Tears were flowing from his red eyes, down his face, his lip quivering.

"Agent S, please don't do this, I-I don't want to-"

"I didn't give you permission to speak." Agent S said harshly interrupting him. Then he went closer, slowly diminishing the small space in-between them. Then he reached for Q's-

I let out a loud cough, causing them both to realize I was there. Agent S slowly turned around, scowling at the sight of me.

"How long have you been there, George?" He said, almost sounding worried. I opened my mouth to answer, but once again he rudely interrupted. "Whatever, I don't care."

He shoved his assistant to the ground before turning around fully.

"Whatever you decided to interrupt us for better be good, agent. We were in the middle of something." Meanwhile on the floor, Agent Q had scrambled to pick up his shirt to cover himself.

"Uh, I came to drop off my report on the rogue cannibal in Texas, who, by the way, was arrested last week." I handed him my report and worriedly glance at Agent Q. He was now standing. If you hadn't seen what I saw, you would think everything was going fine with Q. I knew different.

"And you know this was supposed to be on my desk at 11:00 instead of 12:10?" S stated, his voice laced with poison.

"Uhm, yes Agent S, I was helping out some doctors around the base and wasn't able to turn it in in time." Agent S sighed. No yelling. I guess it was because I caught him doing something not so nice.

"Fine. At least you did it." He turned facing Agent Q. "I am not done with you yet." Agent Q's bold stature suddenly shrunk down into a small, meek stance. I stepped in. Now I wished I didn't.

"S, you know you really shouldn't be doing this."

"It's none of your business of what I should and shouldn't be doing, agent."

"It's abuse S! You're taking advantage of Q and of your position! It's not right!"

"The world isn't fair George! Abuse and hurt and pain makes the world go 'round. He did something anyway! I was just making sure he knew not to do it again..."

"That's disgusting, S."

Agent S opened his mouth to speak, but Agent Q beat him to it.

"S, I swear I won't do it again. Just please stop, please Schla-"

"What'd I say about saying my name in public, dumbass!"

Then, he took a long pole with a hammer head on top of it near his desk. Agent S' office was filled to the brim with weapons. Either to protect him, or hurt Q, I don't know. Suddenly, he swung down on Q, striking Q on his head. It was on the left side of his head. S struck hard on his skull, causing it to crack. Burst I mean. His hammer went from the top of his skull, straight down to the bottom.

A sea of blood came gushing out of Q's head. I screamed, he didn't. Q stood there, his eyes wide open. Well, his right eye was. There was barely any left of his left eye. Then he collapsed onto the floor, slowly bleeding out.

S was just stood there, staring. Quite vacantly. He wasn't angry, he wasn't disgusted, he was, somewhat shocked. He probably didn't know the impact was going to be that hard. He was still clutching the hammer.

I ran. Ran to the nearest doctor. Q was going to die.

George's POV (present time):

And everybody seemed to have forgotten his near death experience. And forgot who cause it. God it was sickening. So I left. Left a note and all. I wished I could have taken Q. I should have. I might not be in this situation if I had.

But soon I will save him. Save him from his hell we call Agent S.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 22-

Wilbur's POV:

We sat on the hotel floor. We still had our adrenaline rush, so we were buzzing. And because Q made coffee.

Tired.

But I still had to stitch Q's wound close.

I got up from the cold floor of the living room to the bathroom. There had to be a first aid kit or something to clean the cut in there. I went straight to the cupboard. I hummed. Perfect. There was rubbing alcohol, a suture kit, and a first aid kit as well. It was stocked with medical stuff. Maybe every base had them. It would make sense.

I turned on the sink water and washed my hands with soap. They were dirty and bloody. I had realized that I had many little scratches and cuts all over my hands and knees from our 'little' fight. I didn't want to contaminate either of our cuts. I turned off the water and dried my hands.

I skipped back into the living room. Q was touching his currently bleeding scar. He pull away his fingers from his face and looked at his bloody hand with a far away look, almost as if he was recalling on an old memory. And it didn't look like a pleasing one at all.

"Q, stop touching it. Neither your hands or your cut is clean, you'll get an infection." He slowly looked up at me. I frowned and sat down in front of him. Then I grabbed a cotton swab and poured some alcohol on it. "This'll sting a little, ok?" He nodded.

I moved the cotton ball to his open wound, the soft, but damp cotton touching his rough skin. He grimaced, scrunching up his nose. The he let out a breath you could tell he was holding for a long time.

"Thanks, Wilbur. You know, for saving me from Sapnap. I appreciate it." You could tell by his voice that it took him a lot off effort to say that. Q was used to doing things alone. A lone wolf. I knew that. You could see that there wasn't a lot of people just lining up to help or save him. He wasn't used to this treatment.

"Your welcome Q. Anytime. You do owe me one though." I laugh at my own joke. Q rolled his eyes.

"I hate being in people's debt. How can I repay you Soot? Money? Saving your ass too?"

"How about you shutting up and staying still while I try to suture your wound?"

"Ugh, another thing I owe you for. You didn't have to stitch me up, that's a doctor thing." I winced. I mean I'm a doctor too. But I understood what he meant. "But you're doing it anyway, so thanks again. You want me to lay down somewhere, Soot?"

"Yeah. Put your head on my lap, it'll be easier for me to help."

"Ok."

He rested his head on my left thigh, closing his eyes. "Is this going to hurt?"

"It might." I took out a sharp needle, a needle driver, tissue forceps, and some clear string. After threading the string into the needle, I put the needle in the needle driver. I grabbed a stress ball that was beside me, something I also found in the bathroom cupboard. "Here, use this."

Q grabbed the ball and held it tightly in his fist. He opened his eyes suddenly, causing us to lock eye contact. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. It felt different from how we looked at each other before. There was a look in his eyes I couldn't quite pin on an emotion. Sadness? Fear? Happiness?...Lust? I didn't know.

I blinked hard and cleared my throat, causing Q to go red, probably realizing he was staring. "I would close my eyes now Q. It'll be easier for me to suture."

"O-oh yeah, of course." He said, while still not breaking eye contact with me. Then he closed his eyes slowly. I took a deep breath. I'm still in college for my medical degree. I've only done stitching on a real human twice. I wasn't going to tell him that though. I'll just have to pray to the gods that I don't fuck up his face.

-Chapter 23-

The scar had healed nicely. And I've got to admit, I did a pretty damn good job.

Q had informed me two days ago the plan was not going as it was purposed to.

"Our people are dying, Wilbur. Not innocents. Agents. Dream's getting to them like he did to Dr. C..." His face twisted with worry. Which made me worry. Q was always calm not worried. But that was days ago. We have new information now.

So far ten agents including C have been decapitated. Well, not really. We had gotten the news late. Even though it was majorly important. C's body came back from the autopsy and the doctors found out his body was not his body. The doctors assume that the other bodies might not be agents either. Just normal civilians that happened to look similar to them. Poor people. Got caught up in drama they didn't know about. Who knows what their family might be thinking. But back to the case. Where were the missing agents? That was the big question me and Q have been trying to answer. Most likely with Dream. But Dream could be anywhere. Anywhere in the world. So we need to speed this operation up. We need to know where we could find Dream.

It's snowing. December in New York. The Big Apple. The City that Never Sleeps. Yep, that's the one. What a sight.

Our feet crunched beneath us in the fallen snow. We were walking to a subway station. Which apparently was Base 38. Hiding in plain sight.

We walked down the stairs. The busy train station looked nothing like a 'base' or a secret hideout. But it supposedly housed a dangerous murderer. I could do this a million times over and still not get used to this feeling. Being undercover. In disguise. I sigh.

Serial killer here we come.

-Chapter 24-

??? POV:

I'm standing in a flower field. It was filled with roses blood-red. The deep red roses smelt sweet. The sun beat against my back. It was hot, not a cold winter's day. It felt like summer. But it was December from what I last remember. Actually, what do I remember? How did I get here?

The thorns pricked suddenly against my skin. Those weren't there before. I ran from the rose bushes. But the more I ran, the more the sharp thorns tore against my once smooth skin. I felt the warmth of my blood trickle down my body. It hurt.

I felt horrendous hunger. I was starving. For food and love. I needed comfort. I yearned for someone's warm embrace. The sun was no longer hot. It was bitter cold. The neglect from its ember rays effected me almost immediately. I shivered badly as I tried to escape the poisonous prickly petals and the freezing cold sun. Even though it was cold, I was sweating from the burning heat of my own blood.

I woke up in a dark, bleak room. The deadly but gorgeous sun was gone and the auburn roses were no where to be found. Everything in my dream had disappeared, everything except for two things.

My horrible hunger. I was now yearning for food more than love. My stomach ached. And the bitter cold. I wish I had socks. The floor was freezing.

This was now my reality. It had been for five weeks. At least I wasn't suffering alone. There were people in this hell of a room with me. I was the first to be trapped in here. Now there was 15 stuck, trapped, and hungry prisoners in this dreadful cell with me.

I hugged my knees against my chest. I had to eat something. My body ached with insufferable pain.

I looked out the cell bars. I had heard something. All the faint cries of hunger and groans of pain hushed. Was he going to feed us? There was a pale light coming from down the hall. I crawled closer to the cell bars. Hunger had driven me weak. It was hard for me to stand without getting lightheaded.

The foot steps grew louder, pounding through my ears like a beat of a drum. Then I realized something. There were two pairs. Why were two people coming this way?

The echoing of the steps stopped. I looked up. There stood two men. One looked familiar. The prisoners hissed. Dream. Our captor, yet our 'savior'. Or that's what he says. 'I saved you from him, you should be grateful.' Yeah, right. He'd say this while giving us one slice of bread and a cup of water as our meal for that day. Starving to death. I would have rather getting my head chopped off. Less suffering. Instead I got a nasty scar. It was a small gash that went straight through my mouth on the right side of my face. Not pretty. It reminds me of someone, but I forgot who.

The next man was foreign to me. Who was he? A friend of Dream? He held a gas lamp they were using as a light source. The faint glow from the lamp gave their faces an eerie gleam.

Well, most of Dream's face. I didn't get to see his face that well during the kidnapping. The bottom half of his face was freckled with tiny brown spots over his pale skin. The rest of his face covered with a mask. His smile was always as dark as night.

The other man's face was fully visible. He had light dirty blonde hair and fair skin. He had striking eyes. They were blue but in the gentle glow of the light, they appeared violet. An impressive purple. They were hypnotizing, but sickening at the same time.

"How are my little 'agents' doing, huh?" Dream said in a tantalizing tone. Disgruntled mumbles could be heard behind me. "Well, lovelies, Daddy has to go away on a business trip, so I've brought someone here to watch and take care of you. His name is 'Purpled'. Be nice."

We didn't care for 'Purpled'. We just wanted our food. Dream sighed. He knew we weren't interested. So why was he wasting his time? He pulled out a bag of bread. Almost immediately, we all scrambled to get the food, but since I had a head start, I reached there first. Purpled smirked.

"I've heard a lot about you 'C'. It's nice to meet you." Then he threw me a slice of bread, like I was a duck in a pond. I caught it and quickly consumed it. I looked back up at the violet eyed man to see him looking down at me in disgust. I already didn't like him.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 25-

Wilbur's POV:

His hair was a mess. His eyes bloodshot, causing him to look as if he hadn't slept in months. His wound from the gunshot I caused was bandaged, but was still bleeding, even though I had shot him days ago and he had gotten medical attention. He was hugging his knees as he talked to himself. I was concerned. Did he already get tortured?

I turned to look at Q. He looked emotionless. How could he look like that when Sapnap was having a literal mental breakdown in front of us?

"Hello, Sapnap." Q said calmly as he walked slowly towards him. Sapnap stopped whispering to himself. He looked up at us. His face flickered from confusion to fear. From his point of view, we were the reason he was trapped in the first place. I would be scared too.

"Listen, I don't want to bother you. I understand and know what you've been through in here. But I just want to know some information, that's it, ok? You understand?"

Sapnap sighed, almost as if he knew it would come to this. Then he shivered, from cold and frozen air, which I understood, it was winter in New York after all.

"You know, I want to go back to my hometown in Texas, and live with my old college roommate, Karl. Those days were the best. I wanted to be a teacher, you know. Teach history and geology. Then I got tangled into this horrible mess..."

Sapnap looked from me to Agent Q attentively. We stayed quiet. "I didn't mean for it to come to this. The first murder. My first murder. It wasn't my fault. He made me do it!"

"Who did?" Q asked politely as if Sapnap didn't answer he wouldn't persist.

Sapnap scowled. He really did look broken. As if we weren't the first ones to visit. He had already gotten tortured. Someone else did it for us. We were just there to rake through the broken bits and pieces of his brain. The destroyed person we still called Sapnap. We were the clean-up. Janitors. He met my eyes. His glossy with tears and filled up with emotions. I looked into the hurt eyes of a man who once was. A man who was great. A man who was smart and level headed. Until life went down hill for him.

"Dream, obviously. Made me kill a man. Told me the 'thrill' would be fun. And when I refused... he threatened to kill me. Dream has no morals. Dream has no 'friends'. Other then George, of course. Gogy planned everything and got his victims from him. I was never Dream's friend. More like an assailant. Knew him from college." Sapnap was still staring rudely at me. I was starting to get uncomfortable.

Q looked pissed at Sapnap. He cleared his throat, making Sapnap remember he was there.

"So? Do you know where he is? A secret hideout or information we don't know yet?"

Sapnap smiled sadly. Weirdly bitter-sweet for a man who got constantly kicked in the balls for all his adult life. "Dream told me about a scheme he and George planned. When George had stopped answering his calls and he saw missing posters of George all over the news in France that is. He wasn't going to tell me originally. He decided to start his little plan early." He sighed. "He slowly started kidnapping agents from you guys and killing randos to take their place. George had made a list. In order of who to get and where to find the 'replacements', he was always organized. I wonder how he's doing now..."

"Dream got me involved. To think I wanted to start getting my life together. I only drink because I hate the life I'm currently living." He looked down. "He told me everything. Every hideout, every person, every secret, and every teeny-tiny little detail about his plan. But I can't, and I won't, be physically able to tell you. Make sure you to check my pockets." He stood up and walked or limped towards us. Q and I stood in place, unthreatened by him.

He smiled, that bitter-sweet smile. "Tell Karl and my family that I loved them. And be safe, he's coming for you." He grabbed his head. Then he shivered again. Well not shivered, shook. More like convulsed. But not from the harsh cold, from a stroke. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his face went pale. The sight made my blood run cold.

The doctors came rushing in, maybe to try to save the poor man's life. But from the sound of his voice and his last words, it didn't sound like he thought he was going to make it. I didn't think he was going to make it either. His bloodshot eyes then were the last time I was going to see them open. Rest his soul.

As the doctors shuffled his still, cold body out of the room, I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. I glanced at Q, for some sort of guidance, but all I saw was his face, pale and aghast, that shone with shock and fear of the unknown. His mouth lay agape in a small 'o' for awhile until he finally spoke.

"What did he mean by 'he's coming for you'?"

-Chapter 26-

??? POV:

It was a subway. An odd place to be hiding a person. But of course. They like to hide things in plain sight. I slipped through a door. The door looked ordinary. It had a warning sign on it. 'Employees Only' it said. Adorable. Is this the best they could do? The door closed behind me. I saw a security camera. One? I guess this base was a small one. I held up my gun and shot the camera. Cute. Glass exploded from the lens. I have to hurry. Even if they are idiots, I knew they heard the loud noise. My shoes crunched on the glass as I followed a small map George had given to me to the infirmary.

I sighed. I mean I expected it. He was weak. I should've known he was gonna spill. I need to get better members... But there lay his body. He looked fine. Almost like if he were asleep. The only out of the ordinary thing is that his eyes were rolled back into his head. His skin was a pale white. I knew what killed him. I had recently planted a chip into every one of my members' brain after George went missing. It exploded, causing a rupture in a brain artery causing a person to have a stroke. It only happened when members of mine leak important information. 'Snitches get Stitches.'

Sapnap's body contained a tracker as well. How else would I have been able to find him? This base was in some random subway in New York. It would have been impossible. But at least this dumbass did something did a part of his job. During his freak out session with those agents, he managed to plant a tracker in the Mexican Agent. And from what I've heard, he seems to be a very special pawn to Agent S. And all I have to do is follow the tracker and take him.

A N D W E A L L K N O W T H A T I S W H A T I D O B E S T .

:)

Wilbur's POV:

"But how could he find us? There are thousands of places in the world we could be right now. Do you think he was talking about one of us? Or the both of us?" Q was just blabbering on, and I was letting him. This time around we were staying at a motel. It was called the 'Syndicate Motel' and the receptionist could not stop talking about 'anarchy', which is really concerning on our part. Who chose this place for us to sleep? Did they know where we slept last time? The view we got from our current motel window was an alleyway filled with garbage cans, not a gorgeous rainbow colored sunset. Our motel room only had one bedroom, so I slept one on the bed, while Q slept on the couch.

I groaned as my back hit the cold sheets of the hard bed. Today was really tiring. The doctors confirmed with us that Sapnap had died from a major stroke. But they said from what they could see he was healthy. Well, as healthy as an alcoholic could be. So where did the stroke come from? Well that's for the doctors to worry about. The bed was stiff. Q was lucky he got the couch. It probably was a hundred times more comfortable then this horrible motel bed.

Q sat quietly on the other side of my cardboard bed. He was being weirdly silent. He was staring at the wall, probably thinking about our next move.

"We need to leave."

I just nodded and stood up. I understood why he would say that. Actually, I was expecting it. The cryptic last words of Sapnap were very unnerving. We headed out of the small bedroom into the even smaller living room. As we started for the door, something caught my eye. There was some movement from an area in our dark kitchenette.

"Hey, Q, I think I saw somethi-"

There was a loud crash and a pop of a gun. Q was standing in front of me, gripping his pistol, looking scarily focused. I went for my gun but then something hit me in the head. I fell on to the floor. I felt my eyes start to close.

As my eyes began to close, I looked up to see Q being muffled by someone. Someone we were looking for.

Dream.

And then everything went black.

-Chapter 27-

...Log #101...

Day 62

Today... was life breaking.

I can't believe he came. How did he find this place? I don't even know where I am. He's amazing. Strikingly smart, strong, and knows exactly what he wants. And he's my hero. He rescued me from prison.

"C'mon George!"

Dream yelped as the loud alarms went off. I grabbed two things. My journal (I had grown fond of it) and a blanket. It was cold, I knew it was December, close to Christmas. Christmas was a holiday I used to enjoy. I no longer do though, ironically thanks to Agent S and the agency. I always worked through holidays. And funnily enough crime increases on Christmas!

I grab Dream's hand as we dash through the hallway of the prison. He held on tightly to my hand. His hand felt rough. I started to catch up to Dream. I huffed.

"And you seriously couldn't have warned me before breaking in? I was sleeping!" I was yelling over the blaring alarms.

"Oh be quiet George! You were writing in that diary! And, wow, not even a 'thank you Dreamy for rescuing me from prison.' Gee George!"

"Whatever! And why did you have to be so extra! I know you can break in here without sounding off the alarms!"

Dream just rolled his eyes. We both jumped over a barrier. We were closed to the exit. God, the adrenaline rush was crazy. The breeze was racing through my hair. The shouting guards behind me. It looked like a picture. It felt like a movie. I was smiling. It was amazing. I looked at Dream. His face was covered with a mask I made for him. He never wore a mask before I met him. His identity was best kept hidden. But I knew he was smiling too.

We came to a stop. There was a huge gate blocking our way. Dream scanned it, looking confused.

"Shittt... I didn't see this in the map George, did you leave this part out love? Oh c'mon. You know how to fix this this right? George..."Dream whined.

I sighed. "Ugh, whatever Dream. I'll fix it, like I always do." I knew how to open the gate. Easy. "They just added this gate. You know my maps are a bit outdated. I left like five years ago..." I ran over to a small electric box that I knew controlled the gate.

"How are you going to fix it if you never saw this gate before!?"

"God Dream you are annoying!" I stood in front of the box and quickly punch a hole straight through the box. It buzzed and small electric sparks flew out of the box. The gate creaked open.

"Damn George, that was badass!"

"What were you expecting Dreamy? I am a badass!" Then there were sudden pops of guns behind us.

"Yelp! We better be off George! I'll tell you about how the plan is going when we get in the car!"

I squeezed Dream's hand, and he squeezed back. And then we dashed off, away from the prison guards, and currently away from our problems.

But I knew as soon as I got into that car, I knew what serious trouble we were in.

Chapter Text

-Chapter 28-

Wilbur's POV:

I woke up. Finally. I was still on the floor. I felt my face. It was hot and sticky. My head was still bleeding. Shit. Q.

I stood up as fast as I could with my shaky legs. I wondered quickly towards a mirror. Whoa. Long, thin, sharp scars, blue and black bruises, and smudges of black blood smeared over my face. It looked like he used a knife and his hand on my face. It looked like Dream went ham on my face. I knew I was hit in the head, but wow, my face said a lot. And wow these scars won't heal easily.

I worriedly limped all over the tiny motel room, looking for him. Looking for Q. I whimpered. I've grown a liking to Q. I don't even known his real name. It's embarrassing. Is something wrong with me? But where was he? I started to double check the rooms, not like I was going to find him, when I spot something odd on the kitchen counter. A...note?

'.H.e L lo Wilbur. D.o.n't w o rry. Agent Q wi.ll. be ju s t fine. He is in _m_ .y. care. A nd do n ot .w.orry abo_u_t the other a g ent_s_ t.o.o. Th e y ar_e_ safe. l ive. Liv e y.o. _u_r life an.d. forget about all of this. s tay safe. -Drea_m_.'

Talk about passive aggressive. But the letter was strange. Some part of me was even telling me something was hidden in the peculiar note, but what was it ?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George's POV:

We were far from the prison.

The car drive was awkward. I sat on the right side of Dream while... someone sat on the left. God, I didn't know Dream was going to do this. Why didn't he just break me out of prison first before he started the plan? I had rethought the whole plan already.

"What is it Georgie?" Dream was looking at me curiously.

"Oh, it's... why did you... I-"

The sedated person stirred. They were handcuffed and his ankles were tied together. Dream and I stiffened. Wow. They were waking up. The gods really hate me or the timing is perfect. They opened their eyes.

"G-George? Where am I? Ok. Where's Wil? God, am I going to die? Can someone explain-"

Dream grabbed a bandana and tied it around Q's mouth. Q muffled some words and struggled a bit before giving up and sighing. Which was strange for him but I guess he was tired. Then Q just stared off into space.

"George?" I glanced over to Dream, giving him a disappointed look. "Whatt?"

"God Dream you are so annoying." He put his hand on my thigh, which irritated me even more. "We promised each other not to start this plan until we were together." Q glared at us as soon as I said that. He must be thinking 'Plan? What plan? What have they been planning? '. Poor Agent Q. Lost in his head, questioning things he'll probably never get answers too.

"George you know I was worried about you. I had to start." He squeezed my leg slightly. "It took the gang a little while to find where you were located, so I had to find it myself! Some people are useless..." I sighed.

"Anyway what happened to Wilbur? What did you do?" Q mumbled some things under his gag, it sound like he wanted to know too.

"Oh he's finee. Healthy and happy. Probably sleeping somewhere..."

I scoffed. "Really Dream? Healthy? And I doubt he's happy..."

"He is! I promise Georgeee. Not a mark. See." He took out a burner phone. He never really had his own phone. And he showed me a picture. It was the man I knew as Wilbur. He was laid unconscious on the floor. There was a small blunt mark on his forehead, must be from a bat. He did always carry one on his anyway. "I doubt that'll be the last time we see him anyway..."

Weird. What did he mean? "Oh! And how is Sapnap? I know he went to NYC. And did he do his part of the plan properly? Well I'm guessing he did if you found Q." Dream wiggled uncomfortably in his seat. He slowly removed his hand from my thigh.

"Uh, well he's dead..."

"What? He's what? I could hear you Dream."

"George he's..." Dream turned to look at me. "He's dead George."

I heard white noise. It felt like I had zoned out, no longer in the car with a fugitive and a kidnaped agent. Sapnap? Dead? No, there must be some mistake.

"Hey, George, it's ok. He was a fork in the road anyway. He only died because he snitched! It's a new thing I implanted in the gang since you were gone."

I mumbled an 'ok' and looked down. That was all the questions I wanted to ask for now. Dream will just have to wait until we get back to a safe and secure place. He'll hear an ear full out of me.

I sadly glanced at Q. He was looking out of the blacked out window. It wasn't like he could see anything. My guess is that he misses or is worried about something.

Or someone...

-Chapter 29-

Wilbur's POV:

'.H.e L lo Wilbur. D.o.n't w o rry. Agent Q wi.ll. be ju s t fine. He is in _m_ .y. care. A nd do n ot .w.orry abo_u_t the other a g ent_s_ t.o.o. Th e y ar_e_ safe. l ive. Liv e y.o. _u_r life an.d. forget about all of this. s tay safe. -Drea_m_.'

The letter I've read I felt like a billionth time this week. It was a couple days before Christmas. About two more days. I might be spending my Christmas looking for Q.

Three days ago I had a little visit from someone. By then Q had only been gone for two days. And apparently George had been missing from the prison he was in for two days as well. Dream must have broken George out...

Agent S, or Q's boss, visited me at the motel recently. He said something about Q's chip being 'offline' and that's how he knew something was wrong. And he said he knew I was still here because my tracker was still online.

"Anyways Wilbur, the agency has decided to let you go home. This mission has become greater than we thought it would so keeping you here would just be putting you in danger. So I'll take you back in my jet and we'll get you to sign some forms, for your college and your silence about this whole thing, and you'll be back to your normal life in no time."

No. It didn't seem right. Something was holding me back. I couldn't just leave them. Not that quickly. Agent C. Agent Q. I'd never know if they were alright. My life could never go back to normal. So, there was only one thing I could do.

"Agent S, what if you let me stay here for a week or so. I have... an idea that might help in the finding in the missing agents."

"And this idea is..?"

"You'll have to trust me."

He stared at me and sighed. "Fine, we have nothing going for us anyway. You have three days. That's all I'm giving you. I'll call you at this time exactly." We both glanced at the small hanging clock above the entrance door of the motel room. 5:37 am. "You either tell me you've found something when I call you or you're going home. You hear me?"

My heart skipped a beat. Three days to find something I wasn't even sure was there. It was just a guess that there was something in that off note. If I didn't find something I might not see Q again.

Or the other agents of course. Not just Q.

"Deal, Agent S. I'll see you in three days."

And then he turned around and left. Over the last two days S has given me updates on how people in agency were doing on tracking the agents down. They weren't doing any better than me. I haven't found anything on that stupid note.

Today was now the third day and my heart was racing, beating hard and fast like a drum. My hands were sweating and shaky. Nervousness was horrible. I had regular anxiety and panic attacks, but today it felt worse. It felt doubled.

'.H.e L lo Wilbur. D.o.n't w o rry. Agent Q wi.ll. be ju s t fine. He is in _m_ .y. care. A nd do n ot .w.orry abo_u_t the other a g ent_s_ t.o.o. Th e y ar_e_ safe. l ive. Liv e y.o. _u_r life an.d. forget about all of this. s tay safe. -Drea_m_.'

Wait.

Am I stupid? How have I not seen this before? In the writing of the note, there was different font and boldness in certain letters. At first I thought Dream was just being creepy. Like looking at serial killer's note. Some letters were bold, some were italicized, and some were underlined. And if I put those letters together...

I gasped. I looked at the clock. 5:37 am. The phone rang. I ran to the phone to pick it up.

"Wilbur? What do you have for me?"

"I got it. The location. I know where the agents are hidden."

. . .

I stood outside the Hollywood Museum in Los Angeles. It was Christmas Eve. The building was weirdly intimidating because I knew what was hidden deep inside.

"Hello? Wilbur, you still there?"

"Oh, yeah S. I'm right here. Just looking..." I had a walkie talkie attached to my waist, so I was able to speak to Agent S.

"Look around the back of the museum. See if you see anything suspicious."

I walked around the back, scanning the area for anything weird.

"Uh, I don't know. I don't see anything Agent S-" I tripped over an odd metal rectangle in the grass. I pulled at a handle, opening it up. "It's a hatch."

"Great! Now Wilbur pull out your gun and be prepared and on your feet. A team of trained agents should be there shortly. I'm letting you go in first because Dream left that note for you. You're the one that was supposed to find the location first. Good luck Soot."

"Thanks."

I threw the walkie talkie in the grass. It's time. I get to see Q again.

I slowly climbed down the ladder stairs, deeper into the trap door. I felt like my heart was crawling up my throat. What did Dream have in store for me? Something big. I stood on the last step and pulled out my gun. I got an upgrade when S picked me up from the motel in New York to bring me to Los Angeles. It was a Glock 17. I quickly turned around as I stepped off the ladder.

Nothing.

Just a long, dark hallway with bunches of cells on each side. It looked ominous. Creepy. Something you'd see in a movie. I stalked down the hall. My footsteps echoing with each step. My gun was in front of me, ready for people to jump out at me and attack.

Nothing.

I was glancing in the cells, each one being empty, bearing no occupants. Was I in the right place? I turned a corner.

A black figure jumped out at me. I yelped then fired a bullet, aiming the gun at their thigh. It hit them. They hissed and looked at me. A man with light brown, almost blonde hair and somewhat purple eyes was glaring at me, nursing his leg. He looked unarmed, which frightened me even more. I cocked my gun, pointing it at him.

"Ok. Where's Dream?" I was praying, to any god listening really, that I was in the right place and didn't just shoot an employee in the museum.

He mumbled. "God, you didn't have to shoot me y'know. Dream wanted to talk you anyway. Just keep going down the hall. He's in the room with the brown door. Now please, get that gun out of my face."

I nodded and kept walking, leaving the man to bleed. I couldn't help him. I had enough things to worry about.

. . .

I found the door. What was behind this door? Guns? Criminals? Well, of course there were criminals behind that door. Dream was there. I took a deep breath. I pushed the door open.

The door creaked open. The scene was horrifying.

Agent C, bless his heart, was stuck in a small cage. It looked like a dog cage. Normally, the average person couldn't fit in the tiny cage but wow, C got skinny. He looked starved and half to death. I could see his bones. It made me sick. His eyes were pink and hazed. He had a collar on. Q was next to him. He was tied to the cage with scratchy looking rope. His eyes caught mine and he looked horrified. George was there as well, sitting on a couch in the corner. He looked even more shocked than Q.

"Wilbur?" It was Dream. He was sitting next to George, the two oddly close to each other. Dream had his hand on George's thigh. I never thought that the two would be a couple. He smiled. "It's you! I knew you would figure it out! Where's Purpled?" I gave him a shy face. Purpled must have been that guy in the hallway. Oops.

"Dream. I hope you know you're absolutely screwed. You leaked your own location. And I'm guessing the other agents are here as well?" C nodded his head profusely. God, he looked horrible. He needed medical help, and fast.

Dream just laughed. "I know! That really was the point! My heart is beating like crazy, it's amazing! I just-"

"Dream." Dream turned around to see George. He was standing up now. "Why did you break me out if we were just going back in? Dream, I need answers."

"George, you know they would separate us in prison, I just wanted to spend time with you!" Dream tossed me a knife and pointed to Q. I ran over to him and started cutting the rope. "Just wanted to spend these days free and talking with you. We had fun didn't we?"

"So now you're forcefully putting me back through that hell of a prison? Out of all the prisons I've been to the ones run by the agency are the worst! You won't enjoy the stay Dream."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. That's small, trivial stuff. Don't worry about it Gogs."

I cut through the thick rope with the sharp knife, careful to not cut Q. Q was crying. Crying. It was scaring me. Q looked sick. He looked like a Tim Burton character. You could see his cheek bones and he had dark circles under his eyes. The rope fell off his wrists still attached to C's cage. C was looking up at us. I need to get him out of there.

"So, Wilbur." I turned to look at him. "I'm leaving this up to you. This whole plan"

"What?"

"The plan to take down the agency...Or just Agent S..."

Q flinched. C just looked away. They weren't saying anything, not like they wanted to talk before. "Why would you want me to destroy the agency?"

Dream laughed manically. "Just ask your friends. Ask George for all I care. You know what, ask Agent Q. Right now, ask him how he got that scar."

Q turned away from me, staring daggers at Dream.

"Whatt ? Sorry, just tell him, he deserves to know." Q scowled. "Ok, then, whatever. Just warning you Wilbur." We heard soft foot steps far down the hall.

"George. I'll miss you."

"Whatever Dream. We'll see each other in prison."

"No, seriously, I'll miss you." He reached down his belt. There was a slight bulge in his pocket. It was gun shaped. I gripped my gun tighter. I still didn't trust him. Dream pulled out his gun. I pointed mine at him.

"Dream. Stop."

"Stop what George?"

"I know what you're doing. Stop. We've talked about this."

"George, we've spent so much time together. I've always enjoyed your company. I-I love you and-" He pointed the gun at his head. "-and I really will miss you."

I knew what was going to happen. I had to stop him. I tried to.

But before I could stop him, before anyone could stop him, he pulled the trigger. Shooting himself in his head. The loud Bam! and bone chilling crack! that rang in the room was sickening. I didn't want to look but I had to. Blood gush out of his skull as he fell to the ground. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was dead. As soon as the bullet hit his head.

George screamed. Q just looked stunned. C wasn't looking at all. George ran up to Dream's lifeless body. "Dream! Stop joking with me!" He laughed. "This isn't funny man! Wake up Dream!" Dream didn't move. Of course he didn't. He was shaking and hitting Dream's body. It was unsettling.

His cold dead body was frightening. It might be the fact that I knew it was real. The blood was slowly pouring out of his head. The blood was red black. I was numb to blood now. I've seen it so much.

Agents burst through the door. They were shouting incoherent things. Some agents started breaking C out of the pet cage. George was being pried off of Dream so the agents could carry him away in a body bag. George was yelling, trying to push against agents trying to hold him back. He was crying and sniffling. It was heart wrenching. I would have felt sorry for him if he wasn't a criminal. I was looking from Dream's dead body, to Q's pale face. He was shaking. This last week must have been horrible. This broke my heart.

"Hey, Q, it's ok now you're safe-"

Q ran up to me and grabbed me by the back the neck, then kissed me.

Kissed.

It was quick. I wasn't expecting it at all. But I felt like I was in heaven. He tasted like iron and blood. Not so pleasant for our first kiss. But I didn't care. I felt his tongue slide against my bottom lip. I opened my mouth allowing him entrance. Our tongues fought for a bit, Q eventually winning dominance. Was I dreaming? No way this tough man just run up to me and kissed me.

When we parted, I looked down at him. My face felt hot. It must have looked tomato red.

"S-seriously Q? We just watched a crazed man commit suicide, and you decided now would be the best time to kiss me?"

"What? You saved my ass. How else was I supposed to thank you?"

"A hug? A smile? A simple thank you?"

" Oh just shut up."

And our lips connected once more in a simple kiss. Making me shortly forget the chaos happening around me.

Chapter Text

-Epilogue-

Wilbur's POV:

We named the incident and the mission the 'Nightmare'. Quite ironic since the mastermind of it all was named, or nicknamed Dream. George finally folded giving Dream's real name. 'Clay'. Oddly basic for the manic. But we all agreed to call him by Dream. Sapnap's real name was 'Nick'.

George isn't doing very well. It does still please me that he still has the journal I gave him. I got the police officers to let him keep it. It was the least I could do. He watched his lover die. He's been mumbling strange things. Telling me to 'watch my back' and 'keep an eye on S'. I'm worried for him.

George is in an administrative maximum prison, safe and lock away where he'll probably be forever alone. By himself. Slowly going crazy. Locked away in a cell isolated. Far away from the other prisoners, since the officers fear he might try to break out again, though I doubt it. He has no one to break him out. Since Dream died, we were able to arrest all the people in his gang. 'Purpled' is in the same prison as George. Agent C hates him. He wrote me a note as he was too weak to speak. He said he was physically abuse by Purpled. And only him was abused. The others were just starved.

We got back to Base 1, which I had learnt is somewhere in Colorado. Agent C and the other kidnapped agents were in a secret hospital. Q didn't tell me where. Q and I fell down the hole leading to the base. We climbed out of the small pool. Agent S was waiting for us. He was beaming at me.

"Well done Wilbur! I am very impressed."

I smiled shyly but Q just scowled. "Seriously S? You really let Wilbur, an unexperienced 'agent' go inside a highly dangerous and unexpected location without an agent? Why would you do that?"

"I wanted to prove something to myself. Now I can finally say with confidence that I want Wilbur to join the agency."

"What ?" Q and I spoke at the same time.

"Yep, Wilbur I want you to join. You'll have to finish your medical degree first of course but, I have something you could do until then."

"I-I don't think he should S...I mean he's- he's-"

"I think he'll do just perfect Q, now you two get a week's rest and I'll talk to you then." Then he just turned around and walked away. Q called him a jerk and selfish under his breath but I was excited. This confirms I get to stay with him. Stay with Q. I smiled at him.

"What? Do you not want to stay with me? You know if he didn't say that, we might have not seen each other again."

"Oh, I know Soot. It's just-you know what, shut up-"

He stood on his toes and kissed me.

Maybe this thing wasn't so bad after all. I'll work hard. Get paid well. Hang around people I love. Do something I actually find interesting. And all I have to do is get my degree.

But for now I'll just have to be his assistant. Agent S' assistant.

[The End??]

Meet the Author:

I started writing this book when I thought Wattpad was cringe and was bored by school lol. I started somewhere in September I honestly don't known when lol

My first wattpad book I read was Monster Ultra cause I was curious...

I got the idea for this book from a weird dream I had like four months ago... I am really good at remembering dreams... Anyway I thought, 'Hey, this would be a good book idea!' and did it, and you guys liked it so pog

My favourite streamers are Quackity, Wilbur, Ranboo, and Tommy. I think you can guess what type of person I am lol. I always liked Minecraft so it was kinda easy for me to like the DSMP and other MCYT streamers (I never used to watch twitch). I started watching the Dream smp and watching the streamers in the beginning of this year (2021) or late 2020. Tommy was my first streamer I watched, then Wilbur.

It was really fun making this book!

Hope you guys will come along to read my next ones!

Thank you to all the OGs who were here since the first couple chapters (you know who you are)!

Book 2 coming soon.... maybe... i don't know... seriously I don't know. Should I? Maybe.

Follow me to know when book 2 comes out ;)

If it does... (It did come out! It will be out here soon enough, once I copy and paste it here... give me a few days)

Anyways-

-Mother Duck :]