Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Obsidian Memorial Park, New York. 8 pm, May 3rd, 2019.

Tofu and I were taking our usual post-dinner stroll, and I had a book that I was in the middle of reading. We arrived at our usual spot: a secluded but well-lit bench and Tofu scampered onto it ahead of me. I followed him and sat beside him, reaching out to scratch his head. The Calico yawned as I scratched him, and I knew now he'd take a nap while I read. I pulled away my hand to open the book I was carrying and turned to where my bookmark awaited.

I hadn't read two pages before there was a rustle of leaves and a man emerged from the hedges wearing all black, he was tall, probably 6 feet, and he looked confused and angry simultaneously. I stared at him as he dusted himself off, and Tofu's ears perked up, alert. I was now on the edge of my seat, ready to bolt, if needed. He looked up and met my gaze as he dusted himself off. He had handsome features, but a scar on his left cheek made the same features appear fierce and him, unapproachable.
"Hey" he said, walking towards me, and I stood up: it was time to leave, "Do you know how to get to the street?"
I frowned. That was different from the usual things perverts and rapists said when approaching a target.
"23rd Street?" I asked confused more than scared. He looked up and groaned.
"Any street! I've been unable to manoeuvre this maze of a place for the past hour!"
Exasperation. Could people fake exasperation?
"Well, if you follow this path you'll get to a fountain, and from there it's just left, right, right, left, left, and then the exit" I spoke fast, closing my book and tucking it into my cardigan, then bent down to pick up my cat.
"Good bye then" I added quickly as he still processed those instructions, and hurried to get out of his way, and his reach.
"Hey! Wait up! Lead me out!"

I ran, of course I did! No matter what new techniques they were using, I did not need to find that out first hand. I knew this park well, even if it was dark and poorly lit, and I knew I needed to get to the fountain, and then I'd be home-free!
I huffed like a middle-aged woman as I ran through the maze of the park, Tofu tucked into my jacket like a child, and by the time I arrived at the fountain, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was keel over and die right then. But then, if I did, no one would be there to feed Tofu. And Tofu, cat or not, was a sissy and wouldn't survive a day out on the streets of New York.
I glanced back as I arrived at the fountain and found the man still on my heels, keeping pace with me by just jogging, while I felt my lungs and muscles burn from exhaustion. I took another deep breath and forced my legs to keep going. Behind me, I heard him mutter, "oh, the fountain!" and now he was racing ahead and the distance between us seemed to be getting smaller. I scolded myself for being such a home-body and pushed ahead, turning through the paths that would lead me out and onto the main road and in full public view.

I arrived on 23rd street in 3 minutes, huffing and puffing, dressed in boy shorts, a tee and a cardigan, holding a cat and a book, and looking ridiculously exposed instead of effortlessly fashionable. The people passing by me gave me looks that were both judgemental and pity, and sometimes they were from the same person. I panted to catch my breath and looked down to ensure Tofu's safety. The feline gave me a look that was only slightly judgemental, and I managed to smile at him briefly as I breathed.
"That was fast!"
Tall, handsome stranger huffed out a breath and came to a halt beside me, looking up and down the street, hardly exhausted, barely sweating, despite wearing his black leather jacket in the warm spring weather. I looked up at him, horrified, terrified, and was close to attempting another jog to get out his radar.
"Thanks" he muttered, then turned and walked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and striding away like a badass. And I watched him, feeling slightly foolish for having misunderstood his intentions, leaving me seriously wondering if all he wanted from me was directions.
"At least we're alive, Tofu" I sighed, having caught my breath, stood up straight and looked around to orient myself to my surroundings. I had exited out the wrong side of the park in my hurry to get to a crowded and easily visible area, which meant I'd have to take the long way home. I sighed again at my own stupidity, then began the long walk home, I did not want to go through the park once again, so I’d have to walk around the length of it, instead of diagonally across it. Tofu meowed at me.
"I know, Tofu. I know" I sighed. I was at my wit’s end, and exhausted, and the paperback was poking me in my sides uncomfortably.

My usual 30-minute daily routine had turned into an hour-long nightmare of unnecessary excitement, delirious jogging, and the long shame-of-walk home. I arrived home at half past 9, exhausted, sweaty, and grimy. Tofu jumped out my arms as we arrived in our building and bolted up the stairs with ease, having spent the majority of our time outside being carried, while I, the carrier, was exhausted and grudgingly took the stairs up. Once I was in the safety of my home, I let out another tired sigh, retrieved my paperback from where I'd ingloriously stuffed it into, and tossed it on the table. It would need to be sun-dried and freshened up by perfume to get rid of my sweaty-smell from the pages. Tofu put his paw on my bare foot, and I knelt down to remove his leash, and watched as he bolted away swiftly. I decided to wash off the events of the night with a shower.

20 minutes later, I was dressed for bed: clean t-shirt, full pajama bottoms, and my fluffy socks. I barely had enough strength to climb under the covers, and I only did so because I knew I wouldn't stay asleep if I didn't. The weight of the blanket did its duty to lull me to sleep, and Tofu did his duty by sitting himself down on my chest and deciding that was where he wanted to rest that night. I fell asleep feeling comforted and safe and protected.

Mornings were difficult. They had been difficult as a student, and they were now difficult as an employee. My workplace was 3 bus stops away from home, and I always, invariably caught the 8:40 am bus which dropped me off at my destination at 7 minutes to 9. And I ran those seven minutes to arrive at the bookstore at 9 am. 'Queen of Aces' was the name of the store and its owner, Ned Queen, opened shop every day at 9 am and closed everyday at 6 pm, no exceptions. He was a 2nd generation millionaire and hadn't yet found the love of his life. He was 30-something, so he was in a hurry to meet someone and fall in love, and live happily ever after, as millionaires usually do, or some version of that, and so he spent every night hanging around various hot-spots around the city in order to find them. Which meant he closed shop at 6 pm, didn't care if he sold nothing all day, and spent the time I was at work to work on his socializing skills.

Last night's scare and unnecessary cardio meant I'd missed my regular bus and took the next one, which meant I'd be 20 minutes late. I texted Ned to let him know I was running late due to unavoidable circumstances, and he replied with a thumbs-up emoji. I was slightly relieved that he'd agreed so easily, but I still felt bad. I didn't do much and yet he paid me well enough to feed and house myself and my dumb cat. Poor Tofu, my idiot son: who had meowed at me all morning to keep me from going to work. Did cats sense anxiety as well as they sensed depression?

"Sorry I'm late, Ned" I said, arriving at the store, still sweating from the effort, and taking off my jacket. I saw that he was with a customer, so I sidled behind the counter to put my bag and jacket away, and waited. Ned was explaining something animatedly to our customer in the third aisle of books, so I decided to do what I normally do in the mornings, which was dust the first floor. Picking up the dusting rag and putting on my mask, I took the stairs up and began dusting the top shelves. The sounds in the shop quietened, probably because of the dust, but since I did this everyday, there was hardly any dust build-up. I hummed as I worked, having finally pushed the memory of last night out of my mind. Life was going on as usual today, and that was a relief.

The customer remained in the aisles, reading books and not buying books, even when I'd finished dusting the first floor and came down to the counter to relieve Ned.
"Mornin’, Zia" Ned greeted, "You look like you've partied all night" grinning knowingly.
"I didn't" I stated bluntly, "Wassup with the browser?" I nodded towards the aisles behind which our customer remained.
"Seems to be homeless" Ned muttered, "Leave him be"
I nodded as Ned stood, "Any requests today?" he asked, as he always did when he went out for a neighbourhood stroll and picked up his daily coffee.
"No, thanks Ned" I assured and he mock-saluted before leaving. I watched him leave through the glass door and wondered shortly why he was having trouble finding someone to spend the rest of his life with: he was funny, kind, and did things at his own pace. Like now: he knew I liked working on my writing early in the day, so he always left for an hour or so to give me time to do whatever writing I needed to. My goal was to write 200 words a day: that's all. Not a thousand, that was impossible for a person like me. I pulled out the papers I was writing in and re-filled ink into my fountain pen. I kept a pot of ink in the store because I always forgot to refill the pen at home. I re-read what I'd written over the last few days, scrunching my nose at some of the sentences I'd used. I corrected several mistakes with a pencil, until I arrived to where I needed to write: a blank page. I began to write.
"Excuse me? Do you have this year's copy of current events?"
My concentration was broken and I looked up at our only customer. I nearly dropped my pen.
"Stalker!" I decided, standing up and reaching for my phone. The same tall, handsome stranger who'd followed me through Obsidian Memorial stood in aisle 3, reading about the events of 2018.
"Oh, you again" he said. I scowled.
"Look man, it's daylight, my boss is around the corner, I will call the police, so just walk out of here and never be seen in my vicinity, if you know what's best for you" I was rambling. I rambled when I was anxious. I also got slippery fingers when I was anxious, which would explain my dropping my pen on the table abruptly just then. Stranger walked out of aisle 3 and to the counter.
"I'm not stalking you" he sounded, and looked disgusted that I could've even insinuated that, "Crazy cat lady" he muttered, rolling his eyes at me.
"Why are you here then?"
"I needed a book and no questions asked" he was scowling, "Too many questions here, so..." he put the book down on a pile of other unstacked books, and walked towards the exit.
"They don't make current events books until mid-year" I told him, "why don't you just Google it?"
"Google what?"
"Whatever niche news-piece you seem to be looking for" I shrugged, "That computer is for customers. 5 dollars an hour. If you finish early, I'll give you a discount"
He slapped a fiver on the counter and walked to the computer that was facing the street. I wondered absently if enabling a stalker was something that could be done. I sat back down on the stool and picked up my pen: it had survived higher falls than this before, and it had survived this too. I dabbed tissue on the ink spill, frowning at the pages, hoping the ink hadn't seeped through too many layers and made them unreadable. I blew on the ink stain to dry it that much sooner, and deciphered the words that the stain had swallowed to write them down in pencil against the stain.

And that's how Ned found me, being ridiculously unproductive, while our customer seemed to be gathering data about everyone on the planet: the man had already opened 20 tabs in the past 10 minutes. Ned was holding a cup holder with three cups in one hand, and in the other he had tiny boxes of sandwiches.
"Tomato and cheese" he said, putting box in front of me, "and cafe mocha"
"Ned, that's totally unnecessary" I said in thanks, "Thank you, all the same" I added when he looked at me pointedly. Then he walked to the customer.
"Here, brought you a latte" he told the man, "And a sandwich"
"I didn't ask for it" Stranger replied.
"You looked irritated, which is a sign of hunger"
Ned's argument was always something like this: you're irritated because you're hungry, you're tired because you're hungry, you have insomnia because you're hungry. Somehow, it seemed like Ned wanted to solve all the problems in the world by feeding people.
"It's on the house" Ned assured the stranger, "Happy browsing"
Ned walked back to the counter, and I shuffled to the more interior stool to offer him the one I was sitting on. Ned took the stool out from behind the counter and sat at the far end of the counter, sipping his own coffee and opening up his sandwich.
"Ink spill?" he inquired looking at me being chaotic behind the counter.
"Yea" I mumbled, "Sorry, I'll clean it up quickly"
"No worries" he replies swiftly, "you should eat and drink your coffee before it gets cold"
"Let me finish this bit"
Ned nodded and sipped his coffee. I continued to dry out the pages that had ink on them.
"You should switch to paperless" Ned suggested, when I'd finished drying the pages and stacked them by page number, and used a binder clip to keep them in place.
"I don't know if I'd like that" I admitted, though it sounded great.
"I think you might" he said assuredly.
"Do either of you know where the Sparrow Academy might be head-quartered?" Mr. Stranger was standing across the counter, scowling at us. Ned frowned.
"Sparrow?" he repeated, "Is that a private school?"
"It's the Sparrow Academy" he insisted, "everyone knows the Sparrow Academy!"
"Google didn't help?" Ned asked, at which the stranger's frown deepened.
"Useless" Stranger muttered, "I'm done now, so if you could give me the discount" he turned to me. I returned his 5 dollars.
"I paid 5" he said.
"It's on the house" Ned replied, "Come back anytime you need anything"
Stranger rolled his eyes and left. Ned smiled after him, then at the empty coffee cup and the sandwiches that had been consumed.
"Poor guy"
"Ned, he might not be homeless. He looks posh" I said, unwrapping my sandwich.
"Yea. He might've been posh, but right now, he looks lost" Ned mumbled, standing up to pick up the remnants of the Stranger's meal, "It's difficult for rich people to lose everything suddenly, they don't know how to cope."
I ate my sandwich, washed it down with the coffee, then began dusting the bookshelves on the ground level. Ned wandered to his favourite reading spot on the first floor, that gave him the view of the street and the entrance to the store, while I dusted. The hours flew by as I attempted to write once again, this time I was more successful in doing so, and wrote nearly an entire page before I could no longer go on.

Around 5, when both Ned and I were in our book daze on different floors, the door chimed and broke the spell we were under. I turned to the entrance and scowled. Stranger was back. I was not happy. Ned came down the stairs, yawning absently. Stranger stood in the entrance, looking at me and Ned and back several times.
"You're back" Ned exclaimed, sounding excited, "Long day?"
"You're Reginald Hargreeves' son?" he was staring at Ned. Ned frowned.
"Technically, I'm his adopted son, and also, we've severed ties awhile ago"
"You! You're the reason!" Stranger charged towards Ned to seize him by his shirt collar.
Ned scowled, while I looked at the exchange with wide unbelieving eyes.
"Zia" Ned turned to me, "why don't you call it a day?"
Ned forced the stranger to let go of his collar, which was difficult, all the while he was looking at me reassuringly.
"Should I call the police?" I wondered as stranger let go of the collar.
"No need for that!" Ned smiled, "Zia, it's OK"
"But..."
Ned smiled again, "I'll be fine, you should go home."
I did not want to leave. Of course, I didn't want to stay either, but most of all, I didn't want this stranger in the shop anymore, not in the shop, not in my life.
"I think I'll stay" I said firmly, pulling out my phone, "And call the police if anything happens"
Ned smiled sadly at me, then at the stranger.
"Why don't we sit down, and you can tell me what's the matter?" Ned said, looking at the stranger.
The stranger was now glaring daggers at Ned, and did not look away from him.
"I'm supposed to be his son! His number one!"
"Reginald Hargreeves'?" Ned raised an eyebrow, "He's his own number one, kid. The man wouldn't care if I dropped dead right now, or you, it would seem"
"Why don't you start from the beginning?"
"Reginald Hargreeves founded the Sparrow Academy in 1989 after adopting 7 extraordinary children" the stranger grudgingly began, "And I am their number one. My brothers and sisters were lost during a time-space jump that altered the timeline such that he adopted you instead of us. And now, he has no recollection of the Sparrows, or of me..."
"Alternate timeline" Ned nodded, "Sounds like something dear old dad would get himself involved in... You know my name, but I don't know yours'"
The stranger looked up at him with a glare, "Ben Hargreeves" he muttered. Ned smiled.
"My baby brother!" Ned cooed standing to give the stranger, 'Ben', a hug. Ben did not like hugs, it seemed, for he held out his hand to prevent Ned's approach into his personal space.
"I am not anybody's baby brother!" Ben declared harshly. Ned nodded.
"If you're from an alternate timeline-"
"You can't just take his word for it" I interrupted, making both men turn to me, "he might be a liar, a thief, or someone much worse"
"That's true" Ned agreed, "But if he put so much effort into his backstory, I think we should give him some benefit of doubt."
"That's a terrible idea" I chimed in once again, "Ned, this story is great, it would make good sci-fi, but come on! You can't believe him! Your adoptive brother from an alternate timeline! What does that make you in this timeline? Why should we take his word for it?"
Ned scowled as he contemplated my words, while Ben gave me a quizzical look, as if my doubting his background was somehow something admirable. I knew I was scowling. I also knew I was running out of patience. I wanted to call the authorities and hand over this man who was clearly mentally unstable.
"It is slightly unbelievable" he agreed, "I didn't think we'd arrive in an alternate timeline where dad hadn't adopted us or created the Sparrow Academy" he scowled at the floor, "You have reasonable doubt" He was staring at me now, and I did not like that at all!
"Don't mind her, Ben" Ned assured, clapping his shoulder in a friendly, non-threatening way, "Zia doesn't trust anyone. It's not just you"
I suppose Ned had a point. Who knew being kicked out by one's own parents would have such lasting effects?
"He was stalking me through Obsidian Park last night" I informed, "And turns up at my workplace this morning? Then somehow turns into your adoptive-brother from an alternate timeline? It just seems awfully co-incidental, and convenient"
Ned frowned.
"You stalked her through the park?" he asked Ben, who scowled at me, as if it were my fault he was chasing after me last night.
"I was lost... I asked for directions, and she ran! So I followed her" he gestured with his hands, "It's not my fault she misunderstood the situation"
Ned scowled at him.
"She was alone in the park and you approached her?" he repeated, "That one's on you, Baby Bro"
"We are not brothers"
"Great! Get out" I finished before they could drag this on, "Your presence makes me uncomfortable, so leave and never come back"
"Fine!" he huffed childishly, then turned and walked away. Ned frowned as his gaze followed him out.
"Zia, close up shop for me" Ned said, before he was chasing after Ben, leaving me alone in the shop. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I took several deep breaths to calm myself down, hoping it would calm my mind and relax me. But anger was not something that would leave easily. I sighed to myself, at myself, and decided to close up the store. I was in no mood to take the bus during rush hour, so I'd have to leave right away to avoid it. I went around the shop, ensuring all the windows were shut and locked, made an entry in the daily ledger, took my jacket and bag and the shop keys, then rolled down the shutter and closed up.

Tofu greeted me by meowing at me the moment I entered.
"Sorry, were you worried, Tofu?" I asked kneeling down to pet him gently. He purred as long as I was petting him, and I felt better the longer I did.
"Met that stalker again today" I mumbled absently, "Should I just quit?"
Tofu was now across the room, meowing at his empty bowl. I stood and went to feed him, and give him water: I'd been too rushed this morning and forgotten to refill both bowls.
I took a shower, washing off the day's efforts in soap that smelled like jasmine. I don't know if I smelled like it after using it, but the soap was definitely, distinctly, jasmine.

Tofu meowed and hurried to the bed as I plunked down onto it, exhausted, mentally and physically, just wanting the day to end. Tofu took the opportunity to climb into my lap and meowed at me. I had yet to eat a decent meal since the sandwiches this morning, and I was in no mood to start from scratch. I wondered absently what Ned was planning to do with the stranger: to trust him or not.
I wondered if the man was out on the streets now, waiting for me to make my next move: the thought paralyzed me entirely, and for a few long minutes, I lay in bed, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to do anything...
Tofu moved to my chest and purred...
I remembered how to breathe...
I put my hand on Tofu and felt his purr transmit into my palms: it was soothing... and reassuring... I cried then, unable to hold back my tears anymore...
And then, I was out like a broken light.

I woke up before dawn. The sky was still dark blue, and the world was quiet, but I was hungry. Tofu was sleeping beside my head, but opened his eyes when I sat up. I scratched his head fondly, reassuringly, and he yawned and closed his eyes once again, though his ears were still perked up, alert. I smiled at my companion and went to the bathroom to relieve myself, then went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge. No left-overs that I could re-heat and pretend it was a proper meal. With a sigh, I decided to make myself a hearty breakfast: eggs, toast, and a fruit salad, for now. I put the kettle on to brew my daily dose of caffeine and then got started on the eggs.

15 minutes later, my plate was worthy of being criticized by Gordon Ramsay for being too vegetarian, but not vegan enough, and that was good enough for me. I drank a glass of water and started to eat. Tofu padded into the room quietly and meowed at me. I'd put his portion of eggs on his plate, which I now deposited on the counter beside me, where he hopped up, sniffed and began to eat. He was good company, Tofu. He knew when I needed comfort, and when to leave me alone. Once I'd finished, I cleaned up, sipping my coffee, which I'd only consumed half of what I'd brewed. I cleaned up Tofu's bowls and refilled his water, cleaned the litter box, dusted the open shelves, and then opened my laptop to transfer my handwritten notes to electronic. Tofu lounged on the stool beside mine, tail moving curiously, so I reached out to give him a back-rub. He bit my hand in retaliation. And I decided to do the work instead. Life would have to go on.

Chapter Text

Queen of Aces book-store, nearly 9 am, May 5th, 2019

I arrived at the store 6 minutes to 9, the earliest I've ever been there, and found Ned had already arrived and opened up. I entered the store and scowled. Ned wasn't alone.
"Morning, Zia" Ned greeted, "Turns out Ben might truly be my brother from an alternate timeline"
I rolled my eyes at him and put my jacket to hang.
"Well, consider this my 2 weeks notice" I replied, "I'll dust the first floor"
"Ben give us a sec" Ned said, hurrying after me as I ascended the stairs with the dusting mop and my mask.
"Zia"
"Ned, it's been a good run, but it's time for me to move on"
"Zia" he sounded like he was begging. Indeed, he looked like it too! His dark brown eyes were drooping like a beagle’s.
"There are certain things about dad that Ben knows that he couldn't possibly know if he weren't intimately related"
"What? Childhood abuse?" I retorted, "That's easy enough to guess, Mr. I've severed ties with my adoptive parent"
Ned winced at my bluntness, but didn't get offended. I was starting to think Ned wasn’t the type to ever get offended, by anything.
"Zia, I think I should give him a chance" he admitted, "He really is homeless and lost, as I'd anticipated."
"You're condemning yourself, but I can't let you condemn me" I sounded desperate, "I didn't just escape my old life to die a meaningless death, Ned"
I knew it was the right thing to point out to him, for Ned knew my circumstances, had come to know my past after years of patient waiting in silence while I spoke so he didn’t spook me into silence once again.
"What if he promises to not kill you?"
I groaned.
"You're setting the bar way too low"
"We'll get him to sign a contract then" Ned decided.
"Which of us will survive to take him to court, Ned?"
Ned sighed.
"The only thing that would work here is trust"
"Which I don't... You know I don't even trust you..." I admitted, "So, 2 weeks"
"Right." his head hung low as he retreated down the stairs. I dusted with irritation. I did not want to leave this job: I knew I'd never find another one as good. But, I'd rather be a minimum wage worker that lived 40 miles from my workplace if it meant I'd live. I had spend an entire decade trying to die, now all I wanted to do was live. Even if it meant in mediocrity, even if it meant in struggle, even if it meant I'd have no time to write anymore. Was it cowardly of me to run away from imagined danger? Possibly. But I’d come to accept that aspect of myself. I was a coward, I ran away from things, it was, now, part of my personality. Sure people said you could change for the better, but who were others to decide what was better? Surely, I was a better judge of myself than anyone else on the planet? Why should I conform to other people’s definitions of bravery and cowardice. If my cowardice meant I’d go home to my cat, that I’d live to see tomorrow rather than die a wasteful, meaningless death today, I would gladly, repeatedly, choose the coward’s way out.

I descended the stairs and found Ben dusting the shelves of the lower half of the store. Ned was sulking at the counter. Ben took two steps towards me which made me freeze, so he stopped and raised both hands up to show they were empty, and therefore not a threat.
"If I wanted to kill you, either of you, I had plenty of opportunity to do so over the last two days" he stated, "as for trust, you shouldn't trust me, and I don't trust you either. But, can't we agree to disagree? Ned seems a fool, but he has no bad intentions"
This person had met Ned yesterday and suddenly spoke as if he’d known him all his life, as if he were a better judge of Ned’s character than someone who’d worked with him daily for the past 5 years.
"It's not Ned's intentions I'm questioning" I responded. Ben nodded.
"2 weeks notice right? If you change your mind, would you stay, as Ned hopes?"
"Change my mind about you and your intentions here?"
"Yes"
"I won't"
"But, if you do, will you stay? For Ned?"
For Ned. How easy he thought it was to manipulate my trust in Ned to his own advantage. Two weeks to get us both to drop our guard so he could abuse us? Blackmail us? Kill us? The world was a terrible place and people were the absolute worst. But Ned was kind and foolish, and I didn’t want to not trust him, even when my instincts were screaming at me to keep my guard up.
"We'll see"
"That's good enough for me" Ben nodded.
"Me too" Ned chimed in, smiling brightly, unlike a kicked puppy, "Should we close shop early and go out for lunch today?"
I turned to him questioningly, "why would we close shop early?"
"It's Sunday! Let's go lunch? Come on, Zia, come on?" again with the puppy eyes. I groaned internally.
"Oh, alright" I agreed, "Before that, we should do our monthly ledger. It is May"
Ned still grinned, despite my saying the words 'monthly ledger', which was new to me. Every month when it came time for it, he made a face, groaned and spent the entire day moping about. We went to the counter and opened the books and the receipts of the month, while Ben continued to dust the shelves like his life depended on it. I kept an eye on him as we worked on the ledger, and it seemed like he were aware of my gaze, for he did nothing out of the ordinary: he dusted shelves, replaced books that were stacked on the floor properly, and occasionally, found a book he wanted to read, so he paused to do so.

At noon we were done with calculating our losses (the store had yet to make a profit since the day it had opened) we started to close the store, when we received an unexpected guest.
“Sorry we’re about to close” I said to the customer: a high schooler by the looks of him, despite his suit. His gaze was intense, and I wondered if someone, somewhere, had pissed him off.
“Is there a Ned Hargreeves here?” he asked, scowling at me.
“There’s a Ned Queen here” I offered, then turned towards the first floor where Ned and Ben were having a ‘secret meeting’ which they thought they were being clever about, but I knew, and yelled “Ned! There’s a child looking for you!”
“I am not a child” the child seethed. I nodded. He didn’t seem childish enough to be called that. But he was quite young, even if he was glaring daggers at me.
“You are a person” I agreed, “Nice suit” I added, hoping it would cool his bubbling anger. It did not seem to have the effect I intended, though, thank fully, his gaze drifted as the two men descended the stairs and caught his eye.
“Ben?” the child said, sounding confused and surprised simultaneously.
“Five” Ben replied, “I thought it didn’t matter to you what Dad did in this timeline?”
“Well, it doesn’t” the child replied, “But we’re yet to find any of the Sparrows, except you” he scowled at Ben.
Ben scowled back. Ned also scowled.
“I’m Ned” he replied, “You must be my little brother, like Ben”
The child scowled.
“I am not your little brother” he stated, seething with rage, and I understood why people said short people were angrier than most, “I’m your big brother”
Ben rolled his eyes. Ned smiled, and now I was certain there was nothing in the world that would faze him.
“OK” Ned agreed, and I decided Ned was the weirdest of the three, “We’re going to lunch. Care to join us?”
The child looked slightly taken aback, then agreed with a nod.
“Is she our sister or something?” he asked, and I wondered why they’d have a brown sister for a split second before Ben replied on my behalf.
“She’s just a store employee” he said, “No one important”
I made a face.
“Zia” I said, “I work here”
The child nodded, hand still stuffed in his pocket.
“Ned, Ben, should we have a family meeting?” he asked, “The others are waiting for us”
“I’ll just stay here, in that case” I decided. Ned frowned.
“Zia” he said, “you should come with us”
“She really shouldn’t” the child spoke, making his irritated face: he seemed to be good at it. Ben looked at his brother briefly.
“Is it like… the kugelblitz?”
The child shook his head.
“Not exactly” was the response. Ben looked at me.
“Then it’s best to be safe” he stated, scowling at me like I was the one offending him, and not the other way around, “She should stay here”
Those four words angered me more than everything else he’d done until that point. It was worse than him stalking me through the park at night, worse than him appearing at my workplace pretending to be looking for a book, worse than him being a brother from an alternate timeline to my boss, worse than him calling me ‘unimportant.’ I was important. I mattered! My thoughts mattered! My feelings mattered!
“You do not get to tell me what to do!” I nearly screamed, but my glare said it all, for none of them looked like they were going to contradict me, “None of you do! I am my own person! I get to decide for myself!”
“Of course” Ben nodded, “I didn’t mean for it be offensive”
“And yet it was” I pointed out.
Ned intervened before I could scorch Ben by my words alone.
“You can join us, Zia. I would like to have you there, for moral support” he admitted, “But if you’d rather not, that’s fine too”
sBen was looking at me with his eyes so wide they could be saucepans, while the newcomer glanced at me , as if he saw this kind of thing every day, and perhaps he did, how was I to know?
“I’ll come with you” I decided, “Ned shouldn’t be left alone with two psychopaths”
“Good choice” the child said, still scowling, “Let’s get a move-on”

It felt bizarre, seeing that we were walking towards my home, especially when we could be taking the bus: that would’ve saved us some 20 minutes. But the men refused to pause at the bus stop, nor looked like they’d take any suggestions, so I remained quiet. It would be better to pass myself off as a wallflower rather than a threat. People ignored wallflowers, but threats were eliminated immediately and effectively.

The child led us to Obsidian Memorial Park, or rather, the abandoned falafel joint diagonally across from one of the entrances to the park. And briefly I wondered if I was doing the right thing: it might’ve been a lure to get me there, Ned was probably whom they were going to use to extort money, and I was their entertainment. I swore to myself to give up and die just as quickly as possible if that were to happen.

The inside of the abandoned falafel place looked just as one would expect, seeing as it was abandoned: grimy, dusty, and poorly lit. Yet there was a light bulb burning in the centre of the seating area, and under the light were three more masculine figures: one of whom was ridiculously tall. I had thought Ben was tall, but no, this man was at least a whole head taller than Ben. The second was a skinny man dressed in a sharp costume, which I doubt anyone else in the world could’ve pulled off. Nope, only him. The third was another skinny boy dressed in plaid with a cute haircut and a cute smile. The least non-threatening of all the men in the room, including, especially, the child.
“Found our brother” the child announced, then glancing briefly at me added, “And his emotional-support side-kick”
“Zia will give you a smacking” Ned assured on my behalf, and he was right to: my anger hadn’t fizzled out of me yet, and despite the long walk, I was still, very much, angry.
The child raised his eyebrows in a manner that seemed to be a challenge.
“Stand down, Five” the tall lanky man commanded, “You found Ben too” he added.
“Yeah. He’d already found them both before I got to the shop” the child informed, “He’s more efficient than all of us combined”
“Thanks for the compliment” Ben replied bitterly, his lips pulling into a smirk.
“So, Benny-boy’s been hanging out with this time-line’s Hargreeves family fuck-ups?” The skinny one spoke, his words slurring out as if he were drunk.
“Just the one, Klaus” Ben replied, “She’s nobody important”
I turned to him, offended by his statement, and found his smirk more off-putting than his words. I was disgusted by this man, who had no manners nor sense.
“I believe introductions are in order” the other skinny one spoke, “And we should all sit down”
“We got tacos” the tall one smiled brightly, “I hope you like tacos”
I did not like tacos. But the tall one looked too damn bright and happy to refuse outright to, so I followed Ned and sat myself in the booth they’d all decided to occupy. Beside Ned sat Ben and across from us, the three new strangers. The child pulled himself a chair and sat beside our table like he was head of the family.
“I’m Luther, Luther Hargreeves” the tall one started, “This is Klaus, Viktor, and Five. Ben you already know”
“I’m Ned Queen, and this is Zia, she’s nearly a doctor” Ned managed to said.
“I’m a med-school drop-out” I corrected, “I work in his bookstore”
They all gave me a once-over that was as quick as it was judgemental, but I had received a fair-share of those, so I didn’t take that to heart. That’s the life of a med-school drop-out: judgemental, pitiful looks.
“Oh, you own a bookstore” Luther nodded smiling. Ned smiled back. He loved talking about the store, but what he loved even more was talking about why he loved the store as much as he did.
“Mostly wanted to read all day without being judged, and all the inheritance was going to waste, so I had to spend it somehow” he replied.
“Dad’s inheritance?” Viktor wondered, “Reginald Hargreeves, I mean”
“He gave me the money and kicked me out” Ned admitted, “worked out best for me, to be honest”
“You do look it” Klaus agreed. I wondered what that was supposed to mean? Did he mean to say Ned looked the better for it? Or was it supposed to be sarcasm?
“I don’t understand why you’re all supposed to be brothers” I voiced, “Ned’s black, Ben’s South Asian, you four I get, but the rest doesn’t make sense”
They all turned to me, acknowledging my presence, and two of them, Klaus and Viktor, seemed to be smiling at me understandingly.
“We’re adopted” Five spoke, “None of us are actually related to each other, we just grew up together, mostly”
“Except Ben, his siblings are all missing” Klaus offered. That sounded strange and bizarre, even with all the timeline crap I’d heard all morning.
“Why does he have separate siblings, if he’s a Hargreeves adopted child too?”
“Oh, this Ben grew up in a different timeline than us” Luther said, as if that explained everything. So there were two groups of siblings here from two different time-lines, and neither of those were this timeline, which meant this was a whole new one. But that was too much, too many siblings, so many time-lines, what was the ultimate goal?
“So, you’re here collecting siblings from different time-lines? To fight an ultimate time-line war?” It sounded ridiculous even as I spoke it, and I knew I was mocking them simultaneously, as did they, for their expressions all ranged from surprise to disbelief to appalled.
“That sounds so cool!” Klaus agreed with a grin, “We aren’t so, well, efficient, to do it, sadly”
Ned smiled at me, almost reprimanding my questions, but he did it so kindly, I did not take offence.
“So, why are we having this family meeting?”
“My wife’s missing” Luther said.
“Sloane? You didn’t find her?” Ben asked. Luther nodded.
“No birth records, no Sparrow ledgers, no nothing” Five chimed in.
I picked at my taco as they continued. I tuned them out briefly, wondering about the missing woman. Had my family looked for me? Had they made the effort? Had they filed a missing person’s report? Had they attempted to trace my phone?

“You ok?”
I looked up from my daze and noticed that the meeting was adjourned, which meant the men had all got up to make a plan. Ned was telling something to Luther and Five, while Klaus and Ben were having a whispering contest. Viktor was offering me a bottle of water.
“Thanks” I muttered, receiving it, “It feels surreal” I admitted. Viktor nodded.
“Yeah… it does seem that way” he agreed, “Zia, right?”
I nodded and stood up, abandoning my taco, which I hadn’t eaten.
“Ned knows someone who could help” Viktor said, “He said he’ll have someone search for Sloane”
“Ned knows many people” I agreed, looking up at him and swallowing down a remark that might constitute being unnecessarily hurtful, especially when Viktor seemed nice enough and hadn’t offended me in any way since we’d met, “When did you lose her? Sloane?”
“She wasn’t with us when we arrived” he explained, “Luther and Klaus went looking for her, I went looking for someone I’d lost too, but she’d already gone”
There seemed to be a heaviness in the man’s eyes, sadness and longing and despair. He looked troubled, not some one who was spinning a web of lies, but some one who was stuck in a web themselves, unable to free themselves, unable to get out, unable to move on.
“All this business seems difficult”
Viktor smiled.
“It’s easier with your family”
I wondered if that were true. I sipped my water. Klaus and Ben walked up to us.
“Ned’s offered to let us crash at his place for the time being” Klaus said, which made me look up at him. That fool Ned would die of kindness or something like that, the way he was going. He trusted everyone, but I wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing, for he also trusted me, which I appreciated.
“We should probably stay put here” Viktor said, “If Five’s right then Sloane will appear here in the park like we all did. Like the 60’s”
“I was there for a whole 3 years before any of you turned up” Klaus reprimanded them, “Who’s to say Sloane will arrive here anytime soon?”
“Some one should keep watch” Viktor thought aloud.
I stood up. I had had enough. Too many new people, too many new interactions, too much socialization. It was time for me to go back home and remain alone for the remainder of the week, ideally, but at least I’d get a little over 16 hours, which would have to suffice.
“Excuse me” I said, leaving the group to go to Ned. Luther and Five stopped talking as I approached them. Probably some big family secret that I had no interest in wanting to know.
“I’m going home now” I informed Ned, which made him frown at me thoughtfully.
“You OK, Zia?” he asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Nope. Just want to go home” I assured. He nodded. He knew me. He’d known me 5 years. He knew I hardly ever socialized, and he knew I needed time to recover from doing so.
“OK” he nodded, “I’ll check-in with you later”
“Sure” I shrugged, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow” I said, the scowling at the siblings surrounding him added, “If you’re still alive then”
“Zia” he sounded like he was reprimanding me. Trusting people was such a difficult step in my life, and despite his best intentions for me, Ned wanted me to at least try. Even now, when I was being so difficult, he trusted me to do the right thing.
“Take care”
He nodded.
“See you around” Luther added, smiling sadly. I nodded and turned, waved to where the other trio of siblings stood, then walked out the shop.

New York was awake, even though inside the shop it seemed like it wasn’t. I looked around the street, memorizing the signs, and forcing myself to remember it was at the wrong entrance to Obsidian Memorial Park, I started to walk. The shortest and easiest way to get home would be through the park.
“Zia! Wait up!”
I stopped at the park entrance, and turned to see Klaus and Ben walking towards me, Klaus waving enthusiastically as they crossed the street towards me.
“We’ll walk you home” he offered when they were close enough. I frowned at them. It sounded harmless enough, but then, why did I feel a chill down my spine that made them seem suspicious?
“That doesn’t sound good” I stated, but Klaus was smiling brightly, care-free, and I suppose it helped his case. Ben’s scowl was just as intimidating as ever, and I decided that even if he wanted to get rid of me, I highly doubted that Klaus: ditsy, clumsy, flamboyant, would allow him to do so.
“We need to buy some food” Klaus added, holding up a 100 dollar bill that he’d likely acquired from Ned, “and booze”
“It’s afternoon” I pointed out.
“I know, daylight’s-a-wasting!” Klaus grinned, “Lead the way, Mademoiselle”
I did not want to lead the way home to a couple of psychopaths from a psychopath gang who were the definition of bad blood-found family.
“There’s a Chinese place on the other side of this park” I said, “and a store for all your liquor needs”
Klaus grinned
“Fabulous!” he declared, draping one arm around my shoulder and the other around Ben and leading us through the gates.

I steered them through the maze of footpaths through the park, having manoeuvred them frequently both with daylight and without. Klaus commented on the scenery.
“Why’d you drop-out of medical school?” he asked, halfway through the park. I glanced up at him. He’d stopped physical contact with Ben by now, so he was just hanging off my shoulder like a drunk, which he probably already was. I wondered why he needed o buy more booze? Though, in all fairness, it was drunk people that always wanted to drink some more.
“It did not suit me” I admitted, “the work, the people, the lives at stake: it wasn’t my cup of tea”
“Being a shop-girl is less likely to have a toll” he nodded thoughtfully, “it must’ve been a difficult decision to make”
I wondered about that. He was more insightful than he let on. His eyes twinkled knowingly when I glanced at him briefly.

It had taken hold of me one day, this thought of quitting med-school. I was half-way through residency, I was nearly a doctor. But one day, I thought to myself, ‘why do I have to suffer so much?’ and since then, everything that happened to me and around me seemed to be telling me I was better off quitting than staying. And every thought, every day accumulated into a huge ball of doubt and pain and suffering, until it burst out and I stopped. I stopped going to the hospital. I stopped talking to my friends and colleagues. My parents gave me an ultimatum: go back to school or get out. I got out. I moved across the country and landed as East as I could before going back to my roots. I didn’t think I had roots anymore. I was one of those plants that was rootless and leafless.

“That’s the restaurant” I gestured, as we exited the park, “and that’s the liquor, so excuse me”
“Where do you live though?” Klaus asked. I looked at him, then realized too late that it wasn’t a gesture of good-will that he’d offered to walk me home.
“You’re keeping me hostage, or something?”
“Or something” Ben agreed. I looked up at him, then shuffled out from under Klaus’ arms, it wasn’t difficult, the man was tipsy and weak.
“Don’t make a scene, just show us where you live and we’re done” Ben stated.
I stood there, at the park entrance, defiance burning in my eyes, glaring at the man who’d deemed me unimportant not once but twice, and now, he had the audacity to look down on me and demand I showed him where I lived? I did not take shit from any one!
“No” I stated, “I will live on this sidewalk for the rest of my life if I have to but I will not show you where I live” I informed him, “If you’re going to kill me, you have to do it on my terms”
Klaus scowled at me, Ben continued to seethe with rage.
“I’ll go buy the alcohol” Klaus decided, “Ben-e-rino, be a doll and buy us some dumplings”
Ben turned his glare to Klaus, who didn’t wither under it, instead looked at him reprimandingly.
“Come on” he hurried, “dumplings!”
Ben huffed and took the bill Klaus was holding out to him, then stomped into the Chinese restaurant. Klaus and I watched him leave and I felt I could breathe once again. Klaus was smiling when I looked up at him.
“We’re not trying to kill you” Klaus said, “We’re trying to protect you, or rather our new, new Ben’s trying to”
I frowned at him. Ben? Try to protect me? That was more unbelievable than their time-line jumping, adopted sibling relationship!
“I’m in no danger except whatever you morons are trying to get me into” I stated. Klaus nodded.
“That’s true” he agreed, “We do seem to attract danger unknowingly”
I stared at him with disbelief. Klaus smiled.
“If we know where you stay, we can check on you and maybe even protect you from whatever dangers we’ve attracted. Your meeting with us puts a target on you too” he explained. I now wished I’d never gone to their stupid taco-meeting. I was hungrier than ever, which made me irritable and even Klaus, who was handling me like I was made of glass, did not make me feel any less crabby.
“Still don’t want to show you where I live” I stated. Klaus nodded, smiling a bright, uncaring smile.
“I’ll go buy some liquor and you’re free to go wherever you please” he stated, “See you around, Zia” He winked at me and walked away, without looking back even once.
I watched him walk into the store. And I saw Ben scowling at the menu of the Chinese restaurant, where he was ordering. I walked back into the park, weaving through the familiar narrow paths until I was at the exit that was near my apartment. I glanced behind me to ensure I was truly alone and not being followed. I exited the park and went to my building.

Tofu gave me a look that seemed to mean, ‘why are you back so early?’ and he remained lounging in the windowsill as if he didn’t care. I locked the door behind me, then put a chair under the doorknob to prevent break-ins. I plonked onto the couch and willed it to swallow me whole.

Life was getting harder the longer I lived. But the alternate wasn’t something I was willing to try. Perhaps, if I had completed my training and become a doctor, life wouldn’t be as hard as it was now, though I’d never know for sure. I sighed to myself, at myself.
“It’s just one of those days” I told myself, standing up and deciding that I would spend the remainder of my free day being on vacation, instead of moping about. Tacos were not any form of meal, so I went to the kitchen and washed my hands. Rice, curry, a side of salad and soda were in order.

It took me 20 minutes to throw together a meal, by which time the rice had cooked to perfection. I changed my pants while it steamed to mushiness, wearing my pajama pants that were more comfortable than the jeans, and I gave Tofu some snacks so he could join me while I ate. I turned on the TV and flicked through the channels while my bowl of curry cooled slowly in the heated room. Meg Ryan was falling for her best friend of several years, so I decided I’d watch that while I ate: it was comfortable.

Chapter Text

Zia’s apartment nearly 7 pm, 5th May, 2019

I was playing an intense game of Mario Kart on my TV when the doorbell chimed: unexpected, and therefore terrifying. I paused the game, shifted Tofu off my lap where he’d been lounging for the past three hours while I’d been playing, and onto the couch, and went to get the door.

It chimed again before I reached the entrance. I frowned at it. I’d managed to stay indoors and not attract any unnecessary, unwanted attention towards myself since I’d returned home. I hadn’t even gone grocery shopping despite my stock being nearly emptied out by my indulgent afternoon meal.

I wished briefly the door had a peephole, but it didn’t, so I moved the chair I was using to block the door and unlocked the door.
“You OK?” Ben’s hurried voice emanated through the gap in the door, even before I’d opened the door far enough to allow him to see me.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, having left the chain on, and speaking through the crack instead.
Ben glared at me, his left hand pressed against the door-frame, his right balled into a fist, leaning against the door itself, while his face looked dark and ominous thanks to the permanent scowl.
“You’ve been missing 6 hours!”
“I’ve been home 6 hours”
“Zia!”
I felt goosebumps rise when he called my name. Why did it feel so intimate for him to use it? Why did he look at me like this? Why was he still looking at me like this?
“Ned called you 20 times!”
“I turned my phone off” I replied, “I didn’t want people tracking me”
Ben’s forehead hit the door-frame dramatically.
“Open the door” he said, “And call Ned”
“I’ll call Ned, so you can go back” I assured.
“Zia” he said again, and once again I felt the goose bumps rise like a wave of cold air had hit me, “Let me in”
“Why?” I asked, even though my hand was already on the chain to unlatch it, “I’m nobody important. Why are you here?”
Ben’s scowl seemed to become fiercer, making his scar more prominent, and he looked one step short of manic.
“I’m trying to protect you” he said, through clenched teeth, “So, let me?”

Why did he seem so desperate? I hadn’t ever imagined he’d be desperate, let alone desperate for my sake! I wasn’t anybody. I’d met the man 2 days ago!

Despite myself, I unlatched the chain and let the man in wordlessly. And he lounged forward to grab me by my shoulders and looked me over, to ensure I was, truly, unharmed.
“You’re unhurt?” he questioned, as if doubting his own eyes. I shrugged my shoulders and he removed his hands and turned to close and latch the door behind him. He scowled at the chair sitting by the side of the doorway, and glanced at me briefly before blocking the door with the chair, the same way I had, though he seemed to be better at ensuring it wouldn’t budge no matter what. He turned around to face me once he was satisfied.

“You have you take your shoes off” I told him, as he started towards the inside of the apartment, and he paused briefly, scowling at this feet before struggling to take off the shoes, then align them by the door like I had with mine. He scowled as he walked further into the small apartment. Tofu was watching him with wide eyes as he approached the couch. I was lost for a moment, uncertain about what to do, whether to offer him a drink (I only had tea now), or food (one packet of chips was all that remained in my inventory), or, if he was only staying for a second. Ben sat himself down on the far end of the couch, as far away from Tofu as was physically possible and still the Calico seemed to be giving him a disapproving look.
“Would you like some tea?”
“Yes!” he replied even before I’d finished my question, as if I’d kick him out if he refused. I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
“You should call Ned” he reminded, gently, looking at the TV screen with a frown.
“Right” I walked to where I’d put the phone to charge and turned it on. I received a few text messages and a list of calls I’d missed. Ned had called me 8 times. I called him back.
“Zia! We thought the worst!”
“Ned” I greeted, “I’m alright. Your ‘brother’s’ here” it sounded sarcastic, even to me.
“Great” he sighed, then conveyed the message to others, “He should stay with you tonight”
“What? Why?” I scowled, not at all liking this plan, “I’m safe at home, alone”
“Please? For the sake of my sanity?”
I groaned.
“One night” I warned, “I don’t need a body-guard”
“I know, Zia. Stay safe” he bid goodbye and hung up. I stared at my phone for a second with utter, intangible disbelief, but I was interrupted by the kettle whistling.

I offered the freshly brewed tea to Ben and sat down beside him, letting Tofu stretch in his spot freely.
“Ned said you’re staying here tonight?” I asked, glancing at him briefly, unable to look him in the face, or meet his eyes: I was terrible at following normal social constructs (one of my many flaws.)
“Yes” he frowned at his tea briefly before putting it down on the table, “Better to be safe”
I frowned, wondering about that. Who was he to decide if a situation was safe or not? Why was it his responsibility to ensure my safety? Who would protect me from him?
“Right” I sounded as sarcastic as I’d intended to, and Ben responded, taking the bait.
“Why do you sound… unconvinced?”
“I don’t even know you, and I’m just supposed to trust you? To protect me? And keep me safe? Safe from what, exactly? Where’s this constant danger you all seem to be sensing but no one can prove?”
Ben’s lips pursed and he turned to look at me, properly look at me. I glanced up once to see that he was not going to stop, so I looked up at him too, and met his intense frowning gaze with one of my own.
“You seem entirely capable of managing it all on your own” he agreed, nearly sounding spiteful, if not for the grin on his face, “May be I just want to spend time with you?”
It felt like I’d attempted to catch a basketball with my face, a thing that had happened quite a few times in the past.
I was staring at him with an open mouth, like a koi fish attempting to swallow everything whole. Ben reached out to pat my head with his left hand.
“You have the look of a lost puppy about you” he said, continuing to stroke my head, “makes me wanna ensure your safety”
I smacked his head away, bottom-shuffling away from him until I was crowding Tofu into the side of the couch. He reprimanded me by digging all his teeth into my forearm along with all his claws in my thigh. I looked at the Calico.
“Tofu” I said softly, reprimanding him, and he withdrew his claws and unhooked his teeth, but his glare didn’t let up.
“Nice pet” Ben commented drily, making me turn to him with a frown.
“Tofu isn’t anybody’s pet” I assured, “He’s lord and owner of this here dump” I gestured about me and reached out with the same hand to ruffle Tofu’s fur fondly. He was purring already.
“Isn’t that right, Tofu? Aren’t you, Lord Tofu Sesame Udon of the House of Udon?” I was baby-talking my 5-year-old cat. Tofu did not like being called his full name, or my touching his fur, or two humans in his near vicinity, or something else, for he stood up and walked away. I watched him go and decided I’d been too over-bearing for a little bit there.
“You named him after a recipe” Ben noted, watching as the Calico walking through the room, clearly ignoring him, clearly waiting for the moment to attack should he approach.
“He knocked over 5 servings of freshly cut udon moments after I’d made it” I recalled, “and got spooked by the mess, so ran through the toppings to finish everything off entirely”
Ben laughed: it was a new and strange sound, the sound of his breath being caught as he laughed, his chest seemed to hum and vibrate as he did, resonating the sounds and making them sound that much fuller, and kind. Ben didn’t look kind, but his laugh was. I smiled to myself, wondering if it was OK that I thought that. He was supposed to be an enemy, a danger, someone I was certain would be the death of me, and probably too soon.

I picked up my controller to resume playing and Ben huffed out the last of his laughter and picked up his teacup. I resumed my game and the low sounds of the game seeped out into my tiny apartment, turning it into a safe place, and I wondered momentarily if it was OK for me to feel that way: to feel safe.

I was back in the hospital, the clean white walls, glaring bright light prickling my eyes, the smell of chlorine hit my nose and make me crinkle it in disgust. People walked past me, faceless doctors, faceless nurses, faceless patients and their attenders: I felt weak in the knees, unsteady, and then I was falling through the floor, the hospital dissolving around me into blackness.

I woke up with a start. I’d passed out on the couch sometime after losing at Mario Kart, it seemed, for the screen showed that I’d lost: miserably at that. I was also covered in my blanket from the neck-down. I had my head propped up on a warm shoulder. Or rather, I might’ve started out lying on a shoulder, but in my sleep, I’d slid from the perch and gone backward, so Ben was leaning forward while I had my head resting on his upper back. Was I still dreaming? Why was Ben allowing me to use his back as a pillow? Who had covered me with a blanket? How had I lost at Mario Kart?

I sat up straight, and the blanket fell to my lap at my sudden movement. Ben startled too, sitting up straight, pretending like he hadn’t been leaning down to let me use his back as a pillow all this time.
“Did you lose at Mario Kart?” I was asking the question even before I was truly, fully awake.
“No, I didn’t!”
He’d lost at Mario Kart.
I rubbed my eyes as I woke up fully. Ben stretched his back by raising his arms above his head. I heard his joints pop at his effort.
“It’s not that hard, you’ve to pick up boosters along the way” I told him, “Once you get the hang of it, it’s pretty easy, and relaxing”
Ben looked conflicted when I turned to him, so I reached out the controller in his hands.
“This button activates the boosters, this joystick is for driving, and that’s about it” I put his thumbs over the joystick and the A button.
“Try it”
Ben looked at me like I was asking him to deactivate a live bomb, not play a video-game. He scowled at his thumbs and hit the play button to take him back to the start game screen.
“Avoid the banana peels and you’re good” I added. Ben scowled at the controller.
“Look at the screen!” I reminded, “Your thumbs will press the right buttons, just trust yourself”
He scowled at the screen as the race began. He did well, for a beginner, he avoided many banana peels and boosters, that was the norm in the beginning: you didn’t know which items would help you and which ones would ruin you. But he played well, he maneuvered the track well, avoided collision with the other racers, and road-blocks, and placed 3rd. I jumped up from my seat, bursting with excitement, screaming with joy.
“You won!”
Ben jumped up to his feet too, his face bursting into a big, soppy smile and he looked at me like an excited child.
“I won!”
“You won!”
“I won!”
“You won!”
“I can’t believe it!”
“You won!”
“I won!”
We were jumping up and down excitedly, holding hands together like we’d won the lottery, not Mario Kart. Our hands swayed back and forth as the excitement settled down, and it felt warm. I was staring at him as his excitement settled into something else, something new. He held onto my hands gently, and I nearly expected him to pull me towards himself for a hug right then. Abruptly, he dropped my hands, and it was suddenly awkward and quiet simultaneously.
“That was fun” he claimed, breaking the uncomfortable silence as I let my hands drop to my sides, and avoided eye contact.
“It was” I agreed softly, rubbing my neck in embarrassment. I stepped back and out of Ben’s personal space, but the blanket had pooled around my knees and legs and I stumbled backward. Ben’s hands reached out to catch me before I fell awkwardly to the ground, but now I was being held around my shoulders and waist by his long, athletic arms: were they made of steel? They were so firm! My hands braced against his chest awkwardly as he stood me up straight, and I felt his pectorals flex at the movement, and I wondered how much time he spent at the gym to get these toned muscles.
“You’ve made a mess of the blanket” he commented as he let me go and sat down on the couch to untangle the blanket around my legs.
“Thanks” I mumbled, feeling my throat dry up. I scratched my neck as he disentangled me from the mess that I’d made while asleep, and I could finally step away from the blanket, and more importantly, him. Being in his vicinity was frying the common-sense out of my brain.
“What should we do about dinner?”
I turned back halfway through my incursion to the bathroom.
“I’ll have to buy groceries first… I’ve used everything up” I admitted, “Excuse me a moment”

I stepped into the bathroom and breathed deeply to force myself to relax. No one was watching me here, no one could see my flushed cheeks, or hear my racing heart. Proximity was bad! I washed my face and dried it off with a hand towel before telling myself it was just proximity, nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more than that. The man was stranger. Yes, he seemed to come around more often than most strangers, but he was a stranger all the same. For my heart to race around him was directly a result of proximity and all the romance TV I’d watched over the years, nothing more. It wasn’t anything more.

I stepped out the bathroom and found Tofu sniffing him carefully and Ben sitting absolutely still, as if Tofu’s approval of him was as important to him as it was to me. Stupid heart, skipping beats again. I watched them from a distance, my Calico sniffing the stranger in the house cautiously, his tiny face seemed to be scowling and judgemental, but that was just his resting face. Ben sat on the couch stiffly, as if he were afraid to spook Tofu off by making sudden, unexpected movements. A few seconds later, Tofu stretched out on the couch, on the empty spot beside him, his usual resting place, and decided to nap. I approached the couch, smiling to myself.
“What about dinner?” I asked leaning on the back of the couch and noticing Tofu’s ear twitch: he was only pretending to be sleeping, the sly boy.
“We should go buy groceries” Ben said, scowling at the Calico, before he stood up and looked at me. I nodded.
“Will you be changing your pants?” he wondered aloud, glancing down at said pants: they were obviously pajama bottoms, so I couldn’t pretend like they were sweats that I’d forgotten to change out of, or worn by mistake. I was in no mood to change pants though, it seemed like an awful lot of effort right then, and I was sure I’d rather skip dinner than change my pants.
“Probably not” I admitted, then wandered into the kitchen to find where I’d dropped my house keys and money after arriving home earlier.
“Right” he muttered, following me towards the door, “should we walk him?” he nodded towards Tofu, lounging happily on the couch.
“I should,” I agreed, “After dinner. Let me eat first”
Ben nodded again, and his scowl looked less intimidating now than it had two days ago, on the day of out first encounter. I thought back to that day, and a part of me wanted to be inquisitive and nosy and ask him about that day, for even after hearing their story, it seemed strange and wasn’t correlating with the remainder of the story I’d heard about the Hargreeves.

We walked in relative silence to the store where I normally bought my groceries from. It was in the next block from the apartment, so hardly a walk.
“This neighbourhood seems sketchy” Ben commented, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket. His black leather jacket that fit his form perfectly, shaping the outline of his firm, toned muscles like it was custom-built for him and I was staring at them, his back muscles, like it was made for me. His statement snapped me out of my strange daze, and I hurried to keep pace with him.
“It’s just poor” I mumbled, “Not everyone who’s poor is sketchy. Some of us are just poor with no way to get out except by miracle”
Ben scowled at me and seemed to hurry, for his pace increased suddenly. I did not hurry to keep pace with him, instead chose to tighten my jacket around me and slowed to a stride that was comfortable. Racing about, chasing things down, be it people or dreams, was no longer my cup of tea. I was not going to let this strange newcomer change that aspect of me, for it had taken me several years to get used to the idea. Ben continued to hurry ahead of me while I walked, and I wondered why he was in such a hurry. Perhaps he was hungrier than he seemed capable of expressing himself to be?

As if noticing that I wasn’t running to keep up with him, Ben glanced behind himself at me, then came to a stop.
“Shouldn’t we hurry?”
“Why? The super’s right there” I nodded to the brightly lit store across the street, “And everyone on this street is a local”
There were some middle-aged men sitting at a make-shift table on their fold-able chairs playing checkers three building from us, and kids were playing basket-ball on the street, pausing and shuffling out of the way when a car came through, though in this street the cars were less, for this street connected nothing to nothing and wasn’t even properly wide enough to be considered a decent shortcut.
“Still” he frowned, “Wouldn’t want to be found out by unsavoury people hiding out behind street corners”
“Hmm” I hummed, crossing the street to enter the mart, Ben now on my heel instead of trying to lead the way.
“Good evening Zia”
“Good evening Mrs. G” I greeted the store-owner. She was also my neighbour and had shared her food with me during festivities of her ancestors such as the Lunar New Year.
“You have company” she noted. I nodded.
“He’s Ned’s cousin” I mumbled, “Ben, this is Mrs. G, Marilyn Gu”
“Nice to meet you” Ben muttered, through the scowl on his face. Mrs. G looked at him as if he were a pathetic kicked puppy.
“You too, Ben” she said, then leaned forward across the store-front’s divide to whisper to me, “Is he being bullied or something? He looks terrible!”
“I’m keeping an eye on him for Ned” I told her in response, “Ned has a thing… and can’t keep him company”
Mrs. G smiled at me.
“Ned is a good kid” she said. I nodded.
“Yes, he is” I agreed, “Any fresh stocks I should know about?”
“Your favourite curry mix is back in stock, in vegetarian”
“Lucky!” I grinned, and after I thanked her quickly, I went through the aisles to get to the curries.
“Does she think I’m the one being baby-sat?” Ben was suddenly vocal, “And why does she like Ned better? Why’d you act like Ned’s a saint? He’s just needy! And it’s none of her business to know your business? Why are you shoving curry mix in my face?”
“I asked if you’d like to eat pasta for dinner” I admitted, “But you were rambling, quite loudly too. This store isn’t as big as it seems.”
“I hear you back there” Mrs. G’s voice sounded through the shop.
“He’s a dork, sorry Mrs. G” I yelled back to her then turned to Ben, “I’m restocking my cupboards, so you can go and pick whatever you want to have for dinner tonight”
“Here. From Ned” Ben shoved a 100 dollar bill in my hand, “for expenses.”
I shook my head as he wandered away and pocketed the bill. Ned was being too generous with his money these days, and I’d rather not receive money for being the one looked after. I’d return it to Ned tomorrow.

We bought nearly 100 dollars worth of food items, and Ben had agreed to eat pasta marinara and we’d shopped accordingly, and I’d bought enough items to re-stock my kitchen too. Ben held one of the paper bags in his arms and I held one in mine as we walked back to the apartment.
“You and Ned seem to hang out a lot” he noted almost immediately after we’d exited the store and crossed the street. I glanced up at him. Ned was my friend, my only friend after I’d moved here, it would’ve been strange to not hang out with him. I’d have looked too abnormal if I didn’t have any friends. Having even one friend was good enough to allay people’s misconceptions.
“We are good friends” I replied, “And I cooked for him sometimes when he said he was tired of eating out”
Feeding people was one of the ways by which people in my culture thanked each other. Feeding Ned wasn’t that big a stretch: he had easy taste buds, so even a simple dish like curry had gone down well with him, and he’d complimented it for weeks. So, I invited him over again and made biryani, and he’d gone bonkers over it. Mostly, I invited Ned whenever I needed to boost my morale, and he seemed to be able to do it over a simple hand-made dish.

Ben was scowling when I looked over at him, unknowing of my intentions, clearly, but I wondered why it seemed to matter so much to him. There seemed to be more to Ben under his scowling exterior, but I’d learned the hard way that not every ‘bad boy’ was in need, or want, of saving. Sometimes, bad boys just existed to ruin things, both good and bad, both in themselves and others. Some people just didn’t care about how they affected those around them. Perhaps Ben was such a person too.
“I wonder what Ned’s up to, with the rest of your family” I thought aloud. Ben’s scowl remained firmly on his face, and he remained quiet the rest of the walk back to the apartment.

I put away the groceries and began to cook. Ben was sitting on the couch, eyeing Tofu, who was now fast asleep once again.
“You can watch TV” I offered, “Tofu won’t mind”
Ben turned to glance at me and nodded, before picking up the remote. He was careful to mute the TV before it got too loud and woke the cat, and he channel surfed as I prepared dinner. I remembered to double the quantity plus a bit more in case my serving size was too small: I’d noticed that men seemed to have a larger appetite and so I modified my recipe accordingly. It only took me 20 minutes to have it ready, while Ben was still channel surfing, though he had turned half his body on the couch to look in my direction instead of looking at the TV.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, when I noticed his eyes on me. Ben seemed to startle when I spoke, and he frowned at me.
“You enjoy cooking” he noted, “Or at least you looked like it”
“I do enjoy cooking” I agreed, “I find it gratifying”
Ben’s frown remained.
“You enjoy reading” he added.
“Yes. It’s astonishing”
“And playing Mario Kart”
I tilted my head at him, confused about what he trying to imply by making these statements. Was he showing off how well he knew me and would be able to track me down if I were to escape?
“I don’t understand where you’re going with this” I admitted, “Do you wanna eat at the counter or on the couch?”
Ben stood and walked to the counter, so I offered him his plate.
“Counter’s fine” he sat himself down on the stool and I walked around the island to do the same beside him.
“Your interests seem varied and unrelated” he said, “I was just curious”
I watched as he looked at the plate and I could almost see his eyes widen as he appreciated my efforts in cooking the dish he was admiring. He took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the dish and nodded when I offered him soda, which I poured into glasses for us both.

Ben was looking at me pointedly, as if he’d asked a question and I hadn’t answered. I raised my eyebrows at him, slightly confused.
“I have varied interests?” I repeated what he’d deduced about me, though in all fairness, it wasn’t rocket science to point out such things that happened on the daily basis, “Is it so bizarre?”
Ben shrugged, looking at his pasta curiously before trying a spoonful of it: his eyes went wide with disbelief as he turned to look at me.
“This is marinara? This is incredible!”
“It’s just pasta” I pointed out, “Marinara at that, not even something complicated and difficult”
“It’s incredible” he scowled at his plate, “You are a good cook”
I suppose it counted as a compliment, and indeed it was. More than his words, that seemed lacking in adjectives, it was his expression that cemented the compliment in my heart: his wide eyes, sparkling with delight, the hint of a smile on his face, the way he licked his lips and the fork, as if he didn’t want to let even a tiny bit of it to waste. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten a delicious meal in his whole life, the way he was acting, even though I knew that couldn’t be true. He was a Hargreeves, after all. Reginald Hargreeves owned half of New York, including this building where I rented an apartment. If he was truly a Hargreeves adoptive child from another timeline, it would mean he’d lived a far more comfortable life than I could possibly imagine.
“Why did you come here?” I asked, making him glance up at me briefly before he turned to his pasta again, savoring every bite of it, “To this timeline?”
“We didn’t choose to come here” he replied, looking up at me, giving me his full, undivided attention, “We just ended up here, somehow… the kugelblitz devoured all existence… we ended up in a pocket universe? Or something, where the machinery activated lead to a reset: the whole universe was reset… and here we were, in Obsidian Memorial Park, in this universe where Dad owns half of everything in the world”
I pursed my lips, playing with the pasta in my plate as I processed the information, it seemed surreal, his story, but I’d always wondered how people who were rich ended up that way, I suppose figuring out a way to reset the Universe and own half of everything in existence was just one of those ways of doing it. My former workplace was a Hargreeves Hospital on the West coast. Now I worked in a bookstore owned by his son. I didn’t much care about the rich, so I didn’t know if Ned was an only child, or if there were more. Seeing as Ben had quite a few brothers, I figured Ned probably had a few too. It felt strange to think Ned had siblings. It was strange that Ben had siblings.
Tofu meowed up at me, having arrived by my stool. I looked down at him, then stood to give him his food.
“Can’t you feed your cat after you finish eating?” Ben sounded cranky, even as I placed the bowl of tuna on the counter for Tofu. Tofu jumped up onto the counter and sniffed his bowl as I sat back down and looked at Ben.
“Tofu likes company while eating,” I informed him mildly, “We usually eat dinner and breakfast together…”
Ben’s nose scrunched up, as if he couldn’t believe that I shared mealtimes with my cat, or perhaps that said cat ate on top of the counter while we ate there too, or perhaps it was both.
“Doesn’t the raw tuna smell bother you?” he asked, and I turned to him with surprise. I hadn’t anticipated that to be why he was making a face.
“I may have accommodated to that scent a while ago”
Ben’s nose un-scrunched and he focused on his pasta once again.
“Will your arrival here change anything, you think? Alter the time-line or cause another big bang?”
“I’m not sure” he admitted, “If anyone knows, it’s Five. He always seems to know some things”
Five was the child. I wanted to point out that everyone always knew some things, but it felt too sarcastic to point it out just then. Especially since he’d answered my questions without beating around the bush or making threats.
“I should talk to him” I concluded, “I’ve always felt the Universe to be bizarre and surreal… maybe that’s because we’re all just existences, not real people”
“That… sounds like depression” Ben stated. I turned to look at him. He’d wiped his plate clean of pasta, wiped up the sauce with a slice of bread, and consumed half of his soda, while I’d picked at my pasta as if it weren’t to my taste.
“I see” I mumbled in response, glaring at my plate while I thought about his statement. Five might know. But even if he did, how would that matter to me? Unless their presence destroyed the world, somehow. By the sound of him, Ben didn’t seem to know if that were a possibility. Did I want the world to end? Or just my personal suffering? I ate my pasta, or so I thought.
“Your pasta’s turned cold” Ben’s statement woke me from my day-dream, and I shook my head to get rid of the last of the ridiculous thoughts to focus on the pasta. It was, as Ben had pointed out, nearly as cold as the room. But it didn’t matter much to me, so I ate it all the same.
“It still tastes good” I informed him, “There’s ice-cream in the freezer if you want dessert”
“I’m fine, thanks” his response was stilted, and I glanced up at him to see him scowling at Tofu.
“Does he bother you so much? Tofu?”
There were people who disliked animals because they thought them unhygienic, and then there were those who just disliked animals. I wondered which of these categories Ben belonged to. I wondered if it was the latter category that psychopaths belonged to? I’d mostly, actively, repressed my med-school memories, so I had a difficult time remembering exactly.
“He’s a strange cat” Ben said, “He eats with people, he cuddles with you willingly, he’s so… tame…”
“Oh, he’s a full-fledged house-cat” I agreed, surprised that he’d spent time and effort to analyse my cat, “He wouldn’t survive a day out on the streets… he keeps me going some days”
Ben nodded, and I saw the hint of a smile on his face, though he seemed to be trying hard to keep his poker face on.
“You have family… that must keep you going?” I ventured to guess, though of all the people in the world, I should know that even though family might keep you going, sometimes, they were the reason you gave up.
“These people aren’t my family” he stated through clenched teeth, “I met them last week, and since then, I’ve lost everyone I’ve even known…”
I wondered how he was dealing with that. It was hard to lose a family, even if all they’d ever done was put you down your whole life. Perhaps Ben’s family cared more about him than I could imagine. My own was 2000 miles away, and it still wasn’t far enough.
“I’m sorry” I said, uncertain about what words would comfort him, but at least I could offer my sympathy.
“Thanks” he frowned, and smiled, and I decided this was a better expression on him than his scowl and clenched teeth one.

A silence fell upon us then, and I didn’t know how, and if, I wanted to break it. I stood up to clear the plates, and Ben stood up to help. Tofu had finished eating and was looking at me expectantly: it was time for our daily walk.
“Your cat is glaring at us” Ben said, as I put the dishes in the sink and let it fill up to soak the plates.
“It’s time for our walk” I dried my hands off on a hand-towel and offered it to Ben, who did the same.
“Are you planning to go out?” Ben sounded surprised, “You might be a target”
“Aren’t you going to be there?” I wondered, “In case of such emergencies?”
Ben’s expression looked surprised, and I managed to smile stiffly at him.
“Do you want to pick a book to read, or will you just, I don’t know, keep lookout?” I shrugged.
“A book?” he picked uncertainly, eyebrows drawing together briefly.
“Good choice” I nodded, leading him to the shelf where I’d stacked my books: half of them had been there for a year, nearly untouched, and entirely un-read. I was currently re-reading Bronte, so I picked up the tattered book that I’d abandoned 2 days ago after my first run-in with Ben and Ben picked a book of poetry: Robert Frost.

Chapter Text

Obsidian Memorial Park, 5th May, 2019, 8:30pm

After attaching Tofu’s leash, we went down the stairs and to the park. We were quiet, and our clothes seemed to be rustling loudly beyond our will.
We went through the park, and I lead Ben to the bench where I usually spent the evening: which was the same one where I’d met him for the first time.
“This is… the same place” he noted.
“How observant” I responded, though I hoped he could sense my mirth and not take offense.
“Do you normally sit here?” he asked, ignoring my comment, or perhaps just choosing to not respond to it.
“It’s out of the way, quiet, hardly any foot-traffic” I shrugged, sitting myself down, “And since I’ve come here with my stalker, I suppose it’s really quite harmless”
“I was not stalking you” he pointed out, “We just arrived there that day”
“Hmmmm” I hummed, opening up my book to where I’d last read. The leaf I was using in lieu of a bookmark had left on my precious book its pigment, to stain it forever yellow. I removed the leaf and saw that it had maintained it’s structure, despite losing the colour, and the veins that ran through the translucent outline looked somehow, magical.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Ben asked, and I turned to see that he was looking, perhaps he’d been staring since I’d first opened the book.
“Not in the slightest” I admitted, “I forgot to air it out after I used it as a sweat-absorber last time… I suppose this leaf is some consolation of that day”
I turned to the far end of the book to place the blanched leaf, for safe-keeping. I did have a place to store such things back in the apartment, but I was a little worried if I’d manage to take it back there without breaking any of the veins, or destroying it entirely.
“Your book’s ruined though” Ben noted, as I arrived back at the page with the yellow pigment of the leaf buried on both sides of the page. I ran my fingertips on the edges of the colouration, knowing full-well that it would change and bleed out further as the days passed, even without the leaf remaining there to help.
“It’s alright… books can take that much” I assured him, “besides, now this book has character”
Ben was staring at me, not at the book, or the yellow pigment stain, or even Tofu, who was now seated to my left, as far from Ben as possible without being off the park bench.
“Most book-owners would think of this as disastrous” he stated. I looked back at him, my fingers trapped in-between the pages of the book, keeping it open, but he had all my attention.
“In my life, books don’t stay unblemished or, remain with their spines un-cracked” I admitted, “One way or another, all the books I own and have read, will run into such moments, and I’ve had to learn to accept early-on, either to think it disastrous, or just… life… life happens to books too… they end up with tattered pages, folded edges, all forms of scars and blemishes, but their purpose remains the same, they end up being exactly what they were meant to: which is to be an escape for someone who needs it.”
“Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“I told you, I’ve had to learn to cope early on” I smiled at him, “My copy of The Hound of Baskervilles survived a fire… I don’t think that book counts for the above though… unless someone might need some kindling to start a fire in a hot air balloon to fly them away”

There it was again: that strange sound of Ben’s laughter, emanating from his chest, shaking his entire upper body, causing his face to turn pink from the effort, and his arms to fold to hold himself up and steady. It was a strange sound, the sound of his laughter, but I realized I preferred it over his silence. And so, I enjoyed it, his laughter that seemed to be coming from deep within him, not just physically, but also mentally. He wiped the corners of his eyes as he breathed deeply, the laughter bubbling out of him as abruptly as it started, and for a moment, he looked surprised that he had laughed at my attempt at a joke, or perhaps that he’d done so in my presence, or perhaps that he’d laughed out loud, or perhaps that he’d laughed at all. When that moment passed, he looked at me strangely, his eyebrows high on his forehead, and his lips pressed together in a ghost of a smile. He would look nice smiling, I mused to myself, smiling at him.

“You look nice, when you smile” he said, continuing to meet my gaze steadily, and I felt my heart skip several beats and something warm pool in my gut. I really hoped it was indigestion, because the alternate scared me more.

I looked down at the book in my lap, breaking eye-contact, feeling suddenly over-whelmed by Ben, but mostly, by how he seemed to make me feel. My last relationship had ended when I moved away and broke off all contact. I don’t think I had the strength in me to actually break it off: I just ran away. Now, I wasn’t sure I wanted to start again. I didn’t know where else I could run to.

“Thanks” I replied off-handedly, “we should read” I added, as if I’d be able to see the words let alone read or process them.

Hearing his clothes rustle, I peeked at Ben from the corner of my eye and found he’d crossed his leg, right over left, held the book in his right hand and had begun to read. I scratched an itch on my right forearm briefly, before Tofu decided he wanted to cuddle right then, and jumped onto my lap and book.
“Wassup, Tofu?” I asked, scratching his ears as he settled into my lap and onto my book. I briefly glanced to my right to see Ben watching, again that ghost of a smile played on his lips and I digress: the more I saw it, the more of it I wanted to see.
“He seems keen on not letting you read” Ben pointed out, and I turned to look at him. Ben was watching Tofu, and I briefly wondered if he wanted to pet him. Most people would’ve usually reached out by now, attempting to pet Tofu, and therefore be scorned by the feline forever (or until they regained his trust over several visits, anyway) and yet, Ben, even though he seemed to want to pet Tofu, hadn’t yet attempted to reach out and do so.

“Shall I read Robert Frost out loud?” Ben asked.

I froze at the question.

Did I want Ben Hargreeves, with his mysterious background, and handsome face, and disgustingly cute smile, that I’d yet to see in it’s full glory, to read poetry out loud to me under the moonlit sky in the middle of a garden on a warm spring night?

Yes, I did.

No! I did not! I did not need more reasons to be comfortable in his presence!

But, he was so sweet! And he was being so polite!

He incited in me something that I had thought I was incapable of feeling anymore… and that was uncharted territory now…

I had taken too long in my internal musings, therefore Ben had taken my silence for my acceptance and began to read. He read about spring, about the warm spring breeze, about the blossoming spring buds, and the beginning of a new cycle of life.

And I listened, stroking Tofu gently, slowly, enjoying the warm-toned voice that seemed to be made for reading poetry, with his stoic pauses and deep inhales. It felt comfortable: like we were separated from the entire world on this one bench in the middle of the park, and while the world was moving on, chasing a new day, we were just existing in that one moment.

I don’t know how long he read to me, for that’s what it felt like: like he was reading to me, for me, and did that make me feel special! An eternity might have passed us by, and I wouldn’t have noticed, or cared! This one moment: if I had to chose one moment to re-live over and over again in my whole life, I’d pick this one. I’d probably re-live this moment several times a day henceforth.

And just as abruptly as it had started, it also ended, with Ben’s voice dying out as he finished a reciting, and to confirm that he was done reading for the day, closed the book. I turned to look at him and he was looking straight at me.

“I thought you’d drifted off” he commented gently, not mean or sarcastic, just a statement.
“You…” I cleared my throat, for it felt too dry and unused, “have a knack for reading poetry”
“Thanks?” he sounded, and looked, doubtful, “Should we head back?”
I nodded and pushed Tofu off my lap so he landed on his feet on the ground.
“Time to go home” I told the feline, who seemed to be glaring at me. But when one owned a feline, or perhaps it was more appropriate to say, when one lived together with a feline, such looks were frequent.

I closed my paperback and stood up, Ben did the same, and we walked out the park. Tofu hurried along on his little feet while I strolled unhurried along the usual path home. Ben was strolling to my right, even more unhurried thanks to his ridiculously long legs. Was that genetics or just pubertal lottery, I wondered?
“So… why do you have such bad luck with books?”
It was a strange way to begin a conversation, granted, but it warmed my heart to know that he was listening, and that he cared, even if it was about books.
“No clue” I admitted, “May be my ancestors were party to book-burnings”
“You’re brown”
“You think Indians didn’t riot? Or cause harm to each other?”
Ben looked slightly embarrassed so I continued, “We have a long history of bloody fights and unnecessary rioting.”
“I didn’t mean to be racist or offensive” He admitted quietly, and I nodded.
“I know” I confessed, “But, to be honest, it isn’t just my books that seem to have the bad-luck built into them… everything around me seems to be afflicted with terrible fate… like my couch whose support beam broke on the second day, my knife set that has that one knife that cuts absolutely nothing except air, the one dead pixel in my phone screen that’s been there since day 1 but doesn’t bother me anymore, a single spring that’s slightly out of place in my mattress… objects in my vicinity just have terrible fates…”
Ben pursed his lips as we walked out of the park and towards the apartment.
“Perhaps the Fates know that no matter how damaged something is, you wouldn’t abandon it… that perhaps your love for something that is whole is the same as your love for something damaged…”
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and I willed myself to control my smile.
“That’s… too kind…” I admitted, “And un-true…”
“Just my thought” he shrugged, as if he hadn’t just spoken one of the most profound things I’d ever heard in my life.

We were back in the apartment now, and I unhooked Tofu’s leash to let him loose. He went around the house being suspicious of all the objects we’d left behind, and making sure they were all exactly where we’d left them. Ben followed him and seemed to be doing the same.
“You can take the couch” I offered, “I’ll bring you a spare blanket”
Ben froze in his spot, halting his ‘investigation’ and turned to look at me. Then, he looked at the couch, then back at me again.
“Sure” he agreed with a nod.
“Great… do you want to wash up first?”
He scowled and nodded and I held out a hand towel for him as he approached me and the bathroom door.
Once Ben was in the bathroom, I dusted the couch and spread a fresh sheet over it. I was giving him one of my spare pillows and a blanket I used during the winter when it got too cold: it had been washed, dried and sun-dried recently.
Ben exited the bathroom, wearing his t-shirt and jeans. He had lost the leather jacket and walked to the main-door where he hung it on one of the pegs I had installed for that same purpose.
“Do you need pajamas?” I asked, when he arrived at the couch and gave it a once-over.
“No, I’m fine” he stated, “Thanks”
I nodded and went to my cupboard to retrieve my own pajamas and went into the bathroom.

When I returned, Ben was reading while lying down on the couch, having used the blanket I’d laid out for him. I went to the main door to ensure it was locked and bolted, and pushed the chair under it for safe-keeping. It would be easier to defend myself against the one perpetrator inside the house than attempt to fight more.

I went through the apartment, turning off all switches and leaving the lamp in the living room on for Ben to read, before heading towards my bed. I snuggled under the covers and lay down.
“Do you need the lights to be off?” Ben asked in a whisper from the living area.
“This much light is fine” I assured him softly, “What are you reading?”
“Before the Coffee gets Cold” he replied. I nodded approvingly to myself as Tofu appeared on my bed.
“Do you like it?”
“The premise is interesting”
“Yes, it is.”
“Time-travel”
“Not so far from what you’ve done quite recently”
“It wasn’t me”
“What?”
“I didn’t do anything… they would’ve saved the world even without me… I played no part”
“Is that what they think? Or is it what you think?”
I heard rustling, so I leaned up on my elbows to see Ben sitting up in the couch, looking at me, eyebrows drawn together in a curious frown.
“What does that matter?”
I shrugged.
“It’s a matter of perspective. You might’ve thought you played no part… but unless everyone else agrees with that, it’s just your assumption… hardly an objective one at that…”
“Hmmm” he frowned deeper.
“It’s a good story” I nodded to his book, “Have fun.”
I leaned back down and felt Tofu walk up on my chest and settle himself down.
“I hope you don’t kill me while I sleep” I mumbled tiredly as I drifted off.

I woke up around 6, noticed Tofu had found a nest between my splayed legs and had settled down there, stretching out on his back with his paws splayed every which way. I sat up, being careful to not startle the feline and shuffled out from beneath the blankets. Remembering the events of the past 24 hours, I suddenly felt grateful for being alive just then. I wandered through the living room and went to the bathroom. Ben was still out cold on the couch.

When I exited the bathroom, Ben was sitting up and stretching. I heard his joints crack when he stretched and I felt myself wince. Then I recalled that I had not invited him over, and had certainly not invited him over to stay the night: he’d done both of those himself, and therefore it was his own fault for having any aches and pains.
“Morning” I greeted, “Sleep well?”
Despite myself, even I could tell I was being sarcastic. Ben looked at me briefly before standing himself up.
“Yes” he muttered, “Though that bed seems to be big enough for two people”
I tilted my head at him.
“I would never share my bed with you” I assured him, “It’s not like we’re…” I trailed off. What were we, exactly? Besides being perpetrator and hostage? Sure, we both seemed to like playing Mario Kart, but that was it. Besides, why would anyone be interested in a 28-year-old over-weight wash-out who lived paycheck to paycheck and had no back-up plan?
Ben, eyebrow raised curiously, was staring at me when I looked back up at him.
“Coffee?” I offered.
“What time will you be meeting Ned today?”
I frowned at my phone where I checked the time. Half-past 6.
“9 am, as always” I told him, “why?”
“It’s just 6:30… why are you already up?”
“I have chores” I looked at him, “why?”
Ben scowled as he watched me pour hot water onto the ground coffee beans to make my daily morning drip coffee. He stared at the slowly dripping coffee curiously and then looked up at me, as if to check what I was doing. I was staring at him, and I continued to stare at him, a nagging feeling in the back of my head that I couldn’t quite place.
“I should go for a run” he declared, “Check-in at the falafel place too”
I nodded. He straightened his back and went to the bathroom. I wondered what that was about. I wondered what last night was about. What was with the nagging, unplaced feeling in the back of my head anyway?

Ben returned from the bathroom as I poured the freshly brewed coffee into my cup.
“Shall I pour you a cup?” I offered.
“I don’t drink coffee” he stated blunted, eyebrows drawn together, scowling once again, “I’ll see you at the store” he added, picking up his leather jacket and walking to the door. He glanced back at me from the doorway as he slipped into his combat boots and fastened the laces before standing up, and looked around the apartment once again.
“Don’t take any detours” he said, “Come straight to the bookstore”
I nodded absently as he let himself out. I wondered why he’d spent the whole evening and night in my presence only to check himself out at the break of dawn? Had I offended him somehow? I did dream frequently, and I did sleep-talk quite a bit, though I didn’t remember either of those things in the morning, just like I didn’t remember if I’d had any dreams last night. Perhaps Tofu had scratched and/or bitten him when he’d attempted to pet him?
I sipped my coffee and wandered around the apartment, dusting… whatever had gotten rid of him, I was just glad to be by myself for now.

Chapter Text

Queen of Aces Bookstore, 6th May, 2019, 9 am

Ned stood outside the bookstore, fumbling with the keys when I arrived.
“Mornin’ Ned” I greeted, and he turned to look at me and managed a sloppy smile, “Are you late? For the first time in your whole life?”
“I’m not” he mumbled, “My brothers and I spent the evening hunting down Sloane. Sadly, she doesn’t exist”
I frowned and took the keys from him to open the door.
“Did Ben protect you?”
“From what? There was nothing that I needed to be protected from”
“We’ve caught one of Dad’s minions” he explained as we entered the store and turned the lights on, “Luther and the rest are questioning him as we speak”
I frowned.
“Ben, too?”
Ned nodded.
“He’s the one who caught him and brought him to us”
“But…” I frowned. Ben had restrained a bad guy? When? How?
“He attacked me? The bad guy came to my apartment?” I asked. Ned nodded.
“Ben brought him to us at the crack of dawn” he yawned, “We’d all been out drinking till 4 am and Ben walks in with this man he’d gagged and restrained and for the last few hours all they did was ask him questions and threaten to beat him up if he didn’t answer”
It sounded surreal to me. Like it was something made-up, something fictional.

At what point of time had Ben restrained this man?

Had he attacked him in the apartment?

Had he broken through the door?

How had I not woken up?

How had Ben managed to restrain him without waking me up?

I was in no form a light sleeper, but I didn’t think I’d have slept through a brawl.

Had there been a brawl?

There was no evidence of it in the apartment.

Had it taken place outside the apartment then?

But when?

Before Ben arrived at the apartment?

Afterwards?

While we were shopping?

Or reading in the park?

“Oh”
Ned sighed.
“I’ll be napping on the first floor if you need me” he mumbled, “You ok to manage the store?”
“Yea, sure. No worries” I assured him and he stumbled up the stairs like a middle-aged man and I heard him huff as he fell into the bean bag he normally read in and fell asleep.
I was left to my own devices and thoughts as I heard him snore and I decided to ask Ben in person the next time I saw him… if I saw him. Since they’d found a proper lead, it meant they’d be on their way now, didn’t it?

I dusted the ground floor shelves, then the first floor. I wrote a few pages while sitting at the counter. I edited a few pages I’d written over the past week that I didn’t particularly like. I picked up the latest volume of manga that I was reading to read. I read all the manga that was in that volume, even though I never followed their stories every week. Time passed differently that day, when I was waiting. I realized that I was waiting for Ben to arrive and tell me of his heroic deeds. Perhaps, more than that, I was suddenly very aware of his absence after spending the last 16 hours with him. I willed myself to focus on the book I’d picked up when the manga did not do its duty at being a distraction.

The store phone rang around lunchtime, waking my sleeping boss, and pulling me out of my internal reverie where I’d spent the entire morning. I answered the phone in a daze.
“Hello?”
“Zia? It’s Viktor”
“Oh, hello”
“Is Ned there?”
“One second” I covered the mouthpiece and called for Ned, “Ned! Viktor on the phone for you!”
Ned startled awake. I knew because I heard him jump and bump into the shelves he used as a back-rest and then heard books falling out of them. He stumbled down the steps and took the phone.
“Viktor” he greeted. He fell silent for a moment as Viktor spoke on the other end, not that I could heard Viktor speak.
“Right. I’m on my way”
He hung up and looked at me. I looked at him questioningly.
“I’ll just go out for a bit”
“To the falafel place?”
“Hm”
“I’ll come with you”
“Zia, stay here”
“What if they send more people?”
“What?”
“The guy you’ve caught can’t be the only one. Who’s ever heard of sending just one person? There will definitely be more…”
Ned scowled as he contemplated his choices. Whatever he’d learned of the Hargreeves siblings since yesterday seemed to be far too big to ignore, and I knew I’d hit the spot when I pointed out the fact that there might be more assailants.
“Right” he sighed, “Get your stuff. Let’s close up for the day”
I did not need to be told twice, for I was already stuffing my papers into my bag and getting my jacket and keys out.

We took a taxi to get to the wrong side of Obsidian Park, and it only took us 5 minutes instead of the 20-minute walk. Curiosity and anxiety bubbled through my veins as we arrived and entered the store.

A portly middle-aged white man was tied to a chair in the middle of the empty falafel place, and Klaus was feeding him a taco and letting him sip soda through a bendy straw.

The other Hargreeves siblings were seated in a booth to the far end, talking in hushed voices about something of grave importance, for they barely noticed us enter.

“Miss Zia Alnavar!” the portly man exclaimed when he noticed we’d entered, “Please! You have to believe me, I was only doing what I was paid to do! I wasn’t stalking you! I was just finding things out and reporting back! I swear! I have no intentions with you!”

The falafel place seemed to quiet at the man’s sudden outburst, and the Hargreeves all noticed me simultaneously, and immediately.

Klaus looked surprised, and then Luther, Ben and Viktor who were sitting in the back booth stood to join us in the middle.

“I told you to tell him to come alone!” Ben turned to reprimand Viktor. Viktor gave him a pointed look.
“I did, you heard me talk to Ned”
“Zia insisted on coming” Ned offered.
“It’s alright, Ben, calm down” Luther clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder, which he promptly threw off him with disgust.
“You came to look for me? Why?” I asked the portly man, who had ignored the interaction between the siblings and had chosen to stare at me the entire time.
“I was asked to… I’m a private eye, you see, and my client wished to find you and also asked me to keep an eye on you and send him back the details… I sent him a photograph of you just last night”
“Your client?”
Klaus stuffed the taco he was holding into the man’s mouth to prevent him from speaking any further. I glared at him for doing so, for wanting the man to keep quiet, for wanting to keep me in the dark.
“Zia, you should step outside for a moment” Viktor intervened. I glanced up at him, then at the other Hargreeves who were all watching me.
“I’m being stalked” I declared, “by a man who claims to be a PI and I should just walk away?” I hoped I sounded as offended by their suggestion as I felt.
“Zia” Ben stepped forward scowling, “You should take a minute”
“No! I shouldn’t… why does there seem to be so many new developments lately?!”

Ben retracted his hand that was attempting to reach me. He pressed his lips together.

“Zia, it’s ok” Ned reassured, “let’s first try to find out who sent this PI… like the 60’s! Who the hell deals with PI’s these days anyway! Everything’s online”
“I’m not” I reminded him, “Probably like 10 percent of people are as withdrawn from social media as me”
“Why don’t we sit down first?” Luther suggested, “Klaus, would you stop choking the man on tacos?”
Klaus’ hand stopped halfway to stuffing a third taco in the PI’s mouth simultaneously, and he smiled sheepishly.
“Just helping out” he replied airily, “You want something to drink?” he offered, to which the PI responded with vehement shaking of head, probably afraid of how Klaus would feed it to him.

I didn’t want to sit down to talk. I was too exposed. It felt like one of those dreams that everyone had where one was naked, and the world didn’t seem to care. Right now, I felt like that: exposed, though no one particularly seemed to notice, or care.

“Are you OK, Zia?”

I turned to meet Ben’s gaze that seemed to be asking a thousand questions while simultaneously saying a thousand other things. Not surprisingly, considering the events of the day, I understood nothing except that he was a man of silent questions over verbal ones.

“Just… I think I’m in need of some fresh air” I admitted, and Ben nodded as if he understood me perfectly.
“We’ll be right back” he informed his siblings, before taking me by my wrist to lead me out.

The outside was a breath of fresh air, figuratively. In New York, there was no such thing as fresh air, even if you lived in the middle of Central Park or Obsidian Memorial. If I didn’t particularly care about how small towns were full of gossip, I might’ve chosen to settle down in one, rather than New York. Anywhere but New York: New York was ripe full of memories for me, though not this part of town. All my memories were of Brooklyn, and they’d stay there forever, unlike me.

“Do you want to sit down?”
I shook my head. Being outdoors was enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“What? That old man?”
I nodded.
“When you caught him, restrained him… why didn’t you tell me?” I was looking up at him, the 1 foot height difference seemed smaller now since I was standing in his personal space and he was in mine. He was still holding my wrist that he’d used to lead me out the falafel shop and across the street to the entrance of Obsidian Memorial Park. His grip on it tightened considerably when I questioned him.
“I didn’t want to implicate you any further” he stated, “If he was sent by Reginald Hargreeves, I wanted to ensure you’d be out of loop, and therefore safe.”
“You’re saying you were protecting me by keeping me out? Why then, did you insert yourself into my life? You could’ve kept watch from a distance…”
His grip seemed to tighten further, before he was letting go of my wrist entirely.
“I was also keeping an eye on you” he said, “I wanted to ensure you weren’t a part of his plan”

It was like being doused in ice-cold water, this wake-up call. I felt a heaviness that settled down from my chest into my stomach.

How desperate had I been to think this stranger had reached out because he cared about me?

How empty was my life to have assumed that his interest in me might’ve been romantic?

I let out a deep breath. I did not cry. Not for him, not for me. Tears were precious, and I’d be too much of a fool to waste them on either of us.

“I should go back” I nodded to myself, “I should know who’s out there looking for me”
I didn’t look at Ben, didn’t wait for him to cross the street, nor care if he followed me, as I re-entered the falafel place. The man was still restrained on the chair, though he had finally managed to eat all the tacos he’d been so helpfully provided.
“Miss Zia, please” he begged when he noticed I’d come back.
“What’s your client’s name?” I asked, “Who’s paying you?”
“I don’t know who they are, just that they wired the money to my account and asked me to send your photo on this number” He was swiveling his chest toward me, so I reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone. It was entirely unlocked, so one swipe and I was literally in.

‘Client, California’ was how he’d saved the number, and the conversation within it was all about who I was, what I was doing, where I worked, what I was buying, and several hundred photographs of me from last week.
“You’ve been sending them photos regularly though” I pointed out, scowling at the man, “Not just yesterday! Since you started stalking me”
Klaus had moved from the booth he’d been sitting in to peek over my shoulder into the phone screen curiously.
“He’s found out everything you do” he commented.
“He’s really stalking her?” Ned reached his palm out and I handed over the phone for all of them to look it over. None of the pictures were compromising, unless the picture of me eating pineapple jam straight out of he jar counted (it did.)
“Believe me, Miss! I’m only doing what I’m being paid to do! I wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t urgently asked me confirm your date last night… I couldn’t sneak a photo of him despite my best efforts” his eyes were glaring at something behind me, so I assumed Ben had returned from getting air.

Discussion broke out in the booth, from which people had started to move out of and were instead surrounding the man of the moment, asking a hundred different questions simultaneously, making it impossible for him to hear the questions, let alone answer them.

What was the word for when everything was all too much?

When the weight of the world was crushing the air out of my lungs?

When moving 2000 miles still wasn’t far enough?

Over-whelmed: that’s what I felt.

Overwhelmed by this fat man in a business suit mocking me, overwhelmed by someone from out west who’d caught up with me, and if they found me, would take me back to suffocate at my job, overwhelmed by Ben who was hovering 2 feet behind me, breathing so quietly one would barely notice him, overwhelmed by the looks the siblings were all giving me, even Ned.

I nodded to myself, to them, to the man in front of me.
“OK” I mumbled, “I’m gonna go now. I don’t want to be involved anymore”
“Zia, you can’t be sure who’s sent this man” Ned attempted to argue, but I looked at him.
“I don’t want to know” I admitted, “It’s all a little too much for me”
“You should go home, get some rest” Viktor agreed amicably, “We’ll call you when we figure something out”
“Don’t” I stated, “Don’t call me… don’t contact me… don’t try to protect me…”

All around the room, they gave me pitiful looks, like I was pathetic and they didn’t know how to help. I felt pathetic and didn’t know what would help, if anything would help at all.

“Just leave me alone… I wanna be alone…”
“Sure, Zia” he nodded, “call me, if you need me”

I wouldn’t, he knew that, but he still said it. I turned and saw that Ben was giving me his silent, brooding look, I was tired of it already so I looked away and walked past him, out of the shop.

I went into the park: it was my sanctuary these days, more than just a scenic route. That was also what made me feel more pathetic about myself. I didn’t have anyone to turn to when things got tough: I’d pushed them out so hard, they were living on the Pacific coast, while I was out east, not having seen even one sunrise since my arrival here, despite it being my own argument for making the move to live on the East Coast.

The path back home was familiar and I didn’t need to particularly look where I was going as I walked, and soon enough I was out of the park and only one crossroads away from home.

‘I suppose I’ll have to move now, considering that I’ve been found’ I mused to myself as I attempted to cross the street. I barely heard the pick-up truck blaring its horns loudly before I was abruptly pulled back onto the sidewalk. I was pressed flush against a leather jacket and the man who was wearing it smelled of smoke and mint leaves.

“Watch where you’re driving, fucktard!!” he yelled at the driver, who showed him the bird through the window.
“Are you ok?” that same husky voice, and that scar-marred face looked down at me with knotted eyebrows.
“He came out of nowhere” I managed to mumble as Ben released me from his grip and checked that I was, indeed, unharmed.
“Guys like that don’t think with their brains!” he yelled at the empty road that once contained the said offender, “Do you want to sit down for a sec?”
“I’m fine” I re-iterated, “I’m fine”

My body was not fine though, and decided that sitting down was a good way to get there, as I felt my knees crumple beneath me and I felt the world tremble as I ended up on the ground on the sidewalk across from my apartment.

“You’re not fine” Ben stated crossly, though I wasn’t sure why he was angry now, and perhaps I didn’t care that he was angry, just that he was so in my near vicinity.
“I just need a minute” I claimed, though I wasn’t feeling any better since sitting down. Instead, it was the opposite, as if my body had been waiting for a moment of peace to just give up. I breathed deeply, hoping that it would help, that it would reduce my racing heart and would allow me the time to get myself home.
“Here, let me help you up” Ben was offering both his hands, palms up for me to take and get up onto my feet. I took the proffered hands and allowed him to half haul me onto my feet.
“Thanks” I mumbled, swiftly releasing his hands before turning towards the street once again. It was empty, devoid of cars, I checked both ways before crossing it, safely this time, then went up to my apartment.

It wasn’t until I was at the door that I realized that Ben had followed me from the crossing.

“Why are you still keeping an eye on me?” I asked bitterly, “I don’t know anything about Hargreeves and the last time I was associated with him was when I worked at the Hargreeves Hospital on the West Coast”
“I-” Ben scowled, “I don’t think you should be alone”
I glared at him before entering the apartment and standing in the doorway, turned to face him fully.
“I don’t want to be near you”
“Zia-”
“Don’t! Use my name!” I was bubbling with barely-contained rage, “And leave, please!”
Ben’s eyebrows drew together in one of his classic frowny faces.
“OK” he muttered, “I’ll leave”
I watched as he walked down the corridor and turned to descend the stairs before shutting and bolting my door entirely. It felt terrible to shut him out. It felt worse to know that it felt terrible to do so.
I sank to the floor in exhaustion, uncertain about what I was going to do now.

Do I stay?

Do I leave?

Should I reach out to the people I’d left behind?

Should I run away again?

Tofu appeared beside me, meowing at me curiously. I reached out to grab him and hug him. He purred and meowed and placed his paw on my cheek, as if he were consoling me, even though he probably didn’t know what about.

“Oh, Tofu” I sighed, “Why is life getting more difficult as the time passes?!”

It was at this new low that my tears began, abruptly, voluminously, loudly, and I cried so loud and wailed as if I was dying until there were no more tears.

Tofu nuzzled his head against my face, continuing to purr loudly, which I felt through my hands holding his tiny body. I sighed heavily and stood up, wiping away the tears and their remnants, wiping the wetness of Tofu’s fur away, which made him jittery in my arms.

I carried him through the house, allowing his soothing purr to heal my broken mind, though I doubt it would matter much in the long run. I’d always known I’d life a short, uneventful life. For now, I was accepting Tofu’s effort in consoling me. I put Tofu across my shoulder and carried him around like a baby, with his head nuzzled into my neck, and his belly against my shoulder and chest, purr resonating into the emptiness of my chest far more easily than through my hands.

I plunked onto the couch, settling down into a corner so that I could rest one arm on it, wriggled out of my socks that were getting too restrictive and shrugged off my jacket like a lazy person. I flicked through the channels, looking for something that could take my mind off everything that had transpired in the past 4 days, particularly, the last 24 hours that had gone from being novel and exciting to fearsome and loathing.

I found a channel that was making home renovations and fell into a daze while watching other people build their dream houses.

Chapter Text

Zia’s apartment, 6th May, 2019, 5:45 pm

I woke with a start. The TV was muted and showing a documentary about beetles. Tofu was snuggled in my lap. My feet were cold on the carpeted floor. I felt my phone vibrating in my jacket pocket, which I was still leaning against, despite having shrugged the jacket off on sitting down. It was Ned calling, so I answered without thinking too much about it.
“Hey, Zia” he spoke softly, like I was fragile and one wrong word would break me. I was grateful for his kindness, for at the moment, I felt as such.
“Ned” I replied, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong” he sighed, “I told you I’d check up on you”
“Oh, right”
“Did you eat something?”
“I couldn’t make anything” I admitted.
“Are you alright with pizza?”
“What?”
“The boys thought we were all a little inconsiderate to you” he was rambling, “So, we’re bringing you food. Pizza is fine right? Vegetarian pizza?”
“You’re all coming over?”
“Well, Luther and Klaus are following up on a lead, and Five’s been AWOL since this morning, so it’s just Viktor, Ben and I”
“I would prefer meeting in a public space rather than invite you all into my house”
“That’s fine too… is there a pizza place near your house?"
“Yes, of course there is”
“Great! We’ll see you in 15!”
I stared at the phone screen that now went black since he’d hung up before I could make any arguments or additional changes to his carefully crafted plan to ensure my mental well-being, or whatever his version of it was. I ran my fingertips a cross Tofu’s fur, enjoying the softness of it and the way his ear twitched when I stroked his little head. He was getting bigger and more adorable as the time passed, it seemed, and more supportive for the sake of my sanity.

I spent five minutes contemplating canceling the plans entirely for I did not want to wake my cat, but he opened his eyes and blinked up at me, then hopped off to do whatever else he did normally at this time of day, which was watch the city through the windows, turn from bright to black with yellow lights blinking like Christmas every night. I think Tofu enjoyed that the most of all the things he did daily. That and his naps. He sat himself on the cat bed I’d placed by the closed window that looked out onto a street where one could see the main road and the bustling traffic at all times of the day, and yawned. Then, he started his bath.

I felt a smile tug at my lips and I realized how easily my friend and companion had pulled me out of a lull. I stood up and stretched. My pants were dirty from where I’d sat down on the sidewalk earlier, but hadn’t had the energy to change them before I’d dozed off.

By the time I’d cleaned myself up of the evidence of my tears from earlier in the day and changed my pants that had no evidence of dirt except the impression it had left on my mind, it was 6 o’clock. I went to stand beside Tofu and watched the street as I stroked his head.
“My food habits are a mess these days” I mumbled to myself, but Tofu looked at me curiously so I continued, “so is yours’ cause I can’t remember to feed you”
Tofu meowed at me indignantly. I smiled at him.
“You’ll have to eat alone today, buddy”
Tofu,with his eyes closed, enjoying my head massage, remained quiet. My phone vibrated with a text message, so I withdrew my hand from Tofu’s head and checked my phone.
‘We’re waiting for you downstairs’
‘Be right down’ I typed the reply, let out a breath that was a lot like a sigh, and turned to brave the world once again. I would have to remember to come back by Tofu’s dinner time, which was usually between 7.30 and 8.
“I’ll be back soon” I told Tofu, who stared at me the whole time I was closing the door, as if he were guilting me into staying. He didn’t realize that my staying would mean guests, which he hated much more than he hated my leaving.
“Mwah” I made a kissy face in the last second before our eye contact was broken by the door closing completely, and then I was left in the corridor, making kissy faces at my door.

I went down the stairs and exited the building. Ned smiled when he saw me exit, as did Viktor. Ben was, as always, making one of his faces.
“How far is the pizza place?” Ned asked, and I was suddenly grateful that he was the sort of man who’d let lying things lie.
“3 blocks?” I guessed, “About”
“Not too far” Viktor smiled and nodded, “Unless you have a different preference for eating out tonight?”
“Pizza’s great” I assured him, at which his smile grew wider.
“That’s good” he continued, encouraged, perhaps by my response, “Luther and Klaus went to Boston… they’ve found a lead on Sloane and the other Sparrows…”
“Right” I said, as if I knew anything about what they were all trying to do, “And…” I hesitated, “Five’s AWOL?”
“He just up and left this morning after Ben showed up with the PI” he explained gently, “But, Five… he always does things on his own… he’ll be back when he’s figured out what to do next”
I nodded again. Just this morning… that’s how long it had been since Ben had caught the PI who was ‘not stalking’ me… since they’d left me out of everything… since he’d broken my-

I stopped walking.

Is that what I was now?

Heart-broken?

Is that why I’d moped about all day for?

Not for being stalked or found? But, because I was heart-broken?

I’d known the man all of three days! He’d gone from being a stalker to a weird book browser to an alienated semi-brother to… what was he exactly to me? Book-loving companion? Curious about cats aficionado?

I shook my head to rid myself of such thoughts.
“What did you do with the PI?” I asked, as I continued walking.
“We had to release him” Ned offered, “He’s promised to not report us if we don’t report him”
I gave him a wry smile.
“Kindness is going to get you killed one day, Ned”
“Not today” he grinned, “Is this it?”
“Yes” I nodded looking up at the large neon pizza slice that beckoned pedestrians into the shop, “It’s not half-bad”
Ned nodded as we entered the shop and held the door open for all of us to enter. We took a table by the large shop window, thankfully not the one by the large neon pizza glowing. Ned nodded appreciatively at the menu, and Viktor, who was sitting across the table from Ned and I, with Ben, picked up the menu and held it out for Ben to look through as well. Not that Ben cared, he was glaring out the window. I answered Ned’s questions about the menu and Viktor chimed in some of his and Ben’s preferences. We ordered a medium veggie, a large pepperoni, and a large plain cheese. Ned ordered beer for himself, while the rest of us settled for sodas.

Once we’d ordered, a silence fell over the table, for we’d run out of things to talk about that were safe to be spoken in public places. I was slightly relieved when our drinks arrived, for at least then, I’d have an excuse to not speak.
“Ben, can we step outside for a minute?” Viktor spoke, breaking the silence of the table, and making both Ned and me look up at him, then Ben, and back again. With a grunt, Ben stood and followed Viktor out, who smiled at us reassuringly before leaving the table.
“Now, what could that be about?” Ned wondered aloud, turning in his seat so he could watch the two men who’d stepped outside just a moment earlier.
“Don’t care” I admitted, stirring the ice cubes in my soda to dissolve them, “I think I’ll quit”
“Quit? Quit what?”
“The bookstore”
Ned turned swiftly to stare at me.
“But, why?”
“I think we’ve reached a saturation point”
“Zia, is it about my brothers?”
“Yes, for one, the PI, for another, and thirdly, it’s been 4 years, Ned. I think I should move on”
Ned scowled, sipped his beer, and scowled some more, thinking about it.
“Where will you work? Not all places hire people without creds these days”
“I’ll figure it out” I assured him, “I moved to New York with 500 bucks and lived 4 extra years… I have some savings too, so I can figure something out while it’s there…”
“Hmmm” Ned hummed into his beer. I sipped my soda, suddenly, it didn’t feel like I was carrying the entire world on my shoulders anymore. It felt much lighter.
“When do you wanna make it official?”
“End of the week, if you’re ok with it?”
“Sounds good” he nodded, “I hope you could figure it out while you still worked at the store… but my family makes it difficult, doesn’t it?”
“Family makes what difficult?” Viktor had returned, and sidling in behind him was Ben, now though, he had the decency to meet people’s gazes and nod in acknowledgment.
“Nothin’” Ned assured, “Serious talk?” he wondered, looking between the two.
“Just guys, hanging out” Viktor smiled, and I suppose I gave him an awkward smile in return, he was just that sort of man who got people around him smiling.

Our pizzas arrived and I was more than happy to ignore small-talk in favour of food, and it seemed, so did the others.
“This place is pretty good” Ned commented, in-between bites, “we should take some back to Klaus and the rest.”

It didn’t particularly matter to me what they did, but this pizza place had been run by 3 generations of men, and that was one of the prime reasons why I preferred eating here than go to a franchise.

How important was pizza that generations of people had dedicated their lives to it?

I couldn’t find one thing I found important enough to dedicate a year to, let alone a lifetime!

“This is good pizza” Ben commented, breaking the silence that had haunted us for the past 20 or so minutes that we’d spent together. Ned nodded appreciatively, and Viktor was smiling his smile once again, this one probably meant he was proud of him, or something along those lines, for when Ben noticed that smile, he blushed so hard, his ears turned red.

A smile broke onto my face when I saw this tall, sometimes arrogant, sometimes nice man break into a full blush at a compliment from his brother. What an absolute dork!
In a split second I reminded myself of my boundaries and stopped, stuffing the last of the crust into my mouth in order to prevent it from smiling or laughing or doing anything utterly unnecessary.

Once we’d consumed our pizzas, and Ned got a few medium ones to-go for the remaining Hargreeves, it was time to go back. I stepped out of the restaurant first, shivering when the chill of the evening hit me. I turned slightly when I heard clothes rustling behind me and found Ben was exiting as well, while Viktor and Ned collected and said their thanks to the man at the register.

“I’m sorry”
I turned to look at Ben, he looked like he had a hundred things to say, for his brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled taut.
“What?”
“I’m sorry for treating you like you were a hired tool” he mumbled, hands stuffed into his jeans, as if that would make him seem less awkward.
“At first, that’s what I thought I was doing, but, at the end of day… it was something else entirely…”
I frowned at him.
“Why are you telling me all this now?”
He sighed, “I don’t want you, of all people, to misunderstand me”
His wording made me stop. It was easy to misunderstand that too, wasn’t it? My mind would continue to play tricks on me like this, especially when I was raw and exposed.
“It doesn’t matter anymore” I concluded, both to him, and myself, “We won’t see each other, we won’t have to deal with each other, whatever it was or wasn’t, is done… I’m done…”
Ben’s expression changed: the corners of his lips fell, his eyes turned darker and sadder, and his shoulders slumped too.
“It’s all a big mess” he muttered to himself, mostly, though I could feel that he was frustrated. Ned and Viktor stepped out of the restaurant and looked between us.
“Everything ok?” Viktor asked, his smile falling when he saw our expressions.
“I’ll make my own way home” I informed them, “If you go down this road, it’ll take you to the falafel place” I pointed them down the street that opened up on the same main road that the falafel place was.
“But, you can’t go back alone” Ned scowled, “We’ll walk you”
“Please don’t” I held up my palm to stop him, “We should part ways here, for all our sakes”
Ned’s scowl remained, despite my reassuring nod before I walked away.

In retrospect, perhaps this was the moment that I regretted the most of all the small moments of that day: the moment that I chose to walk away, from Ben, from Ned, from the rest of the Hargreeves.

I took the alley instead of the main road to go back to my apartment, thinking it would be quieter, and quiet my loud mind, and louder heart.

Two large figures dressed in black approached me in the middle of the alley, and when I looked back absently, I noticed two more such figures approaching from behind me.

I didn’t give it much thought until one of them reached out to grab me.

I screamed. I kicked my legs and swung my arms with all the might I could muster, but he was grabbing me from behind, my arms were trapped against my chest and his bulky arms. I swung my legs out to kick them, but a second person grabbed them and held them in place, which led me to just wriggle like a dying worm. I continued to scream, so another clamped his hand firmly over my mouth.

I could smell the dust in side the bag they threw over my head, and it was making my nose itch. I wriggled my nose for a second before I could no longer hold in the sneeze that was building up. I sneezed inside my bag, against the palm that was keeping me silent, which made them withdraw from me.

“LET GO!!!” I screamed again when the obstruction to my mouth was removed and immediately felt someone pinch my neck firmly before blacking out.

Chapter Text

Where? When? What?

My head was throbbing, and my nose itched in the dust, and I sneezed awake, against the cloth they’d tied around my head, covering my mouth. I blinked awake, feeling the dust irritate my eyes when I opened them, as did the bright yellow spotlight I was under. I sneezed several more times and felt my eyes watering from the effort.

“Good morning”

I squinted to look in the direction of the voice against the glaring yellow light, and despite my best efforts, all I saw was a silhouette, wishing for free arms so I could wipe the allergy tears away. I felt my nose starting to water too.

“Miss Zia Alnavar” he said, his accent was British, and he moved so that his shadow was cast around me, circling me like a hawk circles its prey.

“Hope you didn’t have too much of a rough time”

I glared at the silhouette through my tears and my irritation: both of which were allergy-related, and dust-related, so I was really irritated with him for bringing me into such a place. I sniffed loudly, though he didn’t seem to care or even notice and I was dizzy from following him with my gaze.

He cast the spotlight onto himself and I finally saw his face: balding old man, with high cheekbones, a greying beard, and a monocle. I didn’t think monocles were still in use except by cosplayers, though for the life of me, I couldn’t remember even one cosplaying character needing a monocle to complete their costume.

“For the time being, you’ll stay here” he stated, “Until I figure out what to do about the variants”

He was scowling at me, and it seemed like he was sizing me up, and his pursed lips at the end seemed to indicate he was not impressed.

“Though I still fail to see the big picture with you”

He reached out to unbind my mouth gag and I coughed when I finally had the air to breathe. Even mouth breathing wouldn’t prevent my allergies from acting up.

“Do you have an antihistamine?”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Dust allergy” I shrugged, “I’d like an antihistamine”

He harrumphed in disapproval. I sniffled and attempted to wipe my nose that was itching against my shoulder and failed.

“Like Benadryl? I have a pill in my pocket, if you don’t have any, at least feed that to me?” I was begging. Allergies did that to a person. A running nose wasn’t just a nuisance, it was tiresome, it was gross, it took a toll on my mental health: I’d learned to actively avoid things that took a toll on my mental health. Until now. Being kidnapped was going to top the list of things that took a toll on my mental health, I concluded, even as the skinny old man reached into my jeans pocket to retrieve a blister pack of antihistamines I carried for emergencies, which now had two remaining in them still, popped one out and stuffed it into my mouth. I stared at him, waiting for him to give me some liquid to help me swallow, but apparently, those instructions should’ve been given to him before, for he stared at me expectantly. I bit into the tablet, dispersing it onto my tongue and hoping it would start working sooner than just swallowing would and licked my lips to wet them slightly. Some water to wash down the taste of the pharmacy from the tablet would’ve been great, though the old man didn’t seem to be in the offering state.

“So, I’ve to stay here… indefinitely?” I concluded.

“Yes, precisely” he said, “I’ll ask for you to be let loose after breakfast”

He was striding out of my visual field and I heard a heavy door banging shut behind me. If they were keeping me locked up in a room, why was I tied up too? Perverts. I rolled my eyes at the absent kidnappers and wondered what sort of mess I’d gotten myself into. The old man seemed familiar, though I couldn’t quite place him: how difficult was it to forget a character like that? A monocle! In this day and age! The taste of the pill was a constant reminder of the absence of water, and I wondered how long they’d let me stay thirsty. Should I demand water? Wasn’t water a basic necessity that they ought to provide? So was freedom, and I didn’t have any of that either.

“Water!” I shouted, wriggling in my chair so hard it shook and rattled, “I need water!”

The door clanked as it was unlocked and a buff man entered my peripheral vision and put a glass of water on the ground in front of me. He untied my bound arms and waited for me to drink the water. I stretched my wrist briefly before reaching for the water. And I drank like I’d just run a marathon, though I’d never run one in my whole life. I emptied the glass in a few seconds, and had there been more water, I’d have drunk that entirely too. I held out the glass to the tall buff kidnapper, who took the glass, gave me a once-over and walked away with a look that seemed to be half-pity and half-irritation. He hadn’t bound my arms again, so I reached down to untie the binds on my legs and stood up, stretching my entire body. Now that I had some mobility, it didn’t seem so bad. But the heavy steel door keeping me in was a hindrance on my soul.

My prison cell was 8X8, the chair I’d been restrained to was placed beside a bed attached to the wall, like in an actual prison, and had a mattress that seemed to be made of cardboard, the sheets covering it seemed to be thinner cardboard, and the pillow was surely made of husk. There was a toilet bowl in the corner, with a working flush, and a tiny basin that dispensed clear water: I was uncertain of drinking from the tap considering my captor had brought the glass of potable water from outside. The walls were bare, steel blue coloured, and cold to touch, and the only light source was electric: a fluorescent bulb in the middle of the room. A draft of air flew through the tiny crevice from the floor of the heavy steel door. I sat down on the bed and felt the fibers of the mattress poke into me. I stood and traded the bed for the chair. The firm, smooth wooden chair was a better place to be. I thought about my options, patting all my pockets to retrieve all the things they hadn’t relieved me of when they’d taken me. I had no phone, or my earphones(I’d only just bought them!) and my coin purse that I used as my full wallet was gone too (as was all the money and my cards) I had one tablet left of the antihistamine I’d consumed, and I put it back into my jeans for safe keeping, and used my handkerchief to wipe my nose (glad they hadn’t relieved me of that!) I sniffed and scratched an itch on my nose.

The room smelled musty: like it hadn’t been aired out, like it was surrounded by wetness all year round, and it smelled like dust: fine dust that most people would ignore, but not my body: my nose identified everything. I wiped my nose against the sleeve of my jacket. I would probably get rid of it entirely if ever I got out of here.

Time was tangible in this tiny room that had no one else but me.

Thrice I thought of Tofu and hoped he’d learn to survive in the streets of New York before remembering that he was locked in my apartment.

I hoped someone would take the feline and give him a more stable and loving home than I was able to provide for him.

I thought of Ned, and on thinking of him, almost immediately I thought of Ben: would I not have been in this situation had I stayed?

If I’d given Ben the opportunity he’d begged for? If I’d let them walk me home instead of directing them away?

I wonder if Ben cared: he seemed nonchalant, untroubled most of the time. Would it matter to him that I hadn’t arrived home?

That I’d been taken hostage instead? Would he notice my absence? Would he look for me? I hadn’t given much thought to the people I’d left behind when I’d run away from home: all I’d left was a note addressing no one and every one simultaneously: ‘Goodbye, don’t look for me’ and in the last 4 years, no one had found me, so I assumed they hadn’t searched.

I wasn’t sure now if I was relieved that I’d stayed un-found, or disappointed that they didn’t need to know how I was doing, if I was alive. I thought of my parents: they had spent my whole life fighting: fighting their parents, fighting each other, fighting oppression, fighting for rights: they were always willing to take a stand, unlike me.

I ran away at the first sight of my upcoming fight. Maybe it was karma that I was kidnapped and forced to make a stand by myself, for myself.

I realized I’d been awake for nearly an hour now when my nose stopped producing excessive mucus.

I felt my nose dry up and the itching sensation of my eyes reduce considerably as the drugs began to act. I could finally focus on the severity of the situation instead of just my allergies. I stood and took a walk around the room, attempting to think of a strategy to escape. I bumped into the corner of the bed roughly and winced as I stumbled away from it. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.
I rubbed the spot slowly, gently, wincing when I put pressure on it unconsciously. I stopped and stood up, feeling the stabbing pain continue as I focused on a solution to my problem.

It seemed as if the old man assumed I was somebody important: someone who knew things, perhaps? What things warranted kidnapping bystanders? Unless, I wasn’t a bystander? Unless I was part of whatever plot he’d hatched to do… whatever it was he wanted to do…

I groaned from the pain, felt my mind go groggy from the pills, though I was glad I had at least that, and my symptoms wouldn’t go from mildly irritating to life-threatening anytime soon. I rubbed my palm over the bruise of bumping into the bed absently, though a part of me continued to wait, hoping for a miracle.

I fell asleep exactly 4 hours after taking the pill, having fought a losing battle of the wits against my own mind for those 4 torturous hours. I woke up groggy after several hours of being entirely out, undreaming, unaware of everything, except the crick in my neck from having fallen asleep on the wooden chair instead of a perfectly decent bed nearby. I cracked my neck absently as I woke, my mind was still only half-awake and therefore only at 25 percent working capacity. I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and looked around, momentarily having forgotten the circumstances that lead me to take said pill that had knocked me out cold: usually I was out cold for 4 to 8 hours, and seeing how hungry I was, I chose to go with 4 rather than 8.

I stood up and felt the bruise from earlier ache as I did, making me wince, bend and rub it soothingly, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. I banged my fist against the heavy door, three sharp bangs, a pause, then three more, another short pause, three more heavy knocks, my left fist was tired, so I switched hands and continued to bang against the door in groups of three until I heard the lock turning.

“Shut up” the tall gruff man from earlier seethed with barely contained anger, “Speak your demands, prisoner”

“Freedom” I surprised myself with how much sass I could project even when I was captive.

The man gave me a stink eye like I was asking him to kidnap someone else.

“Funny, ha ha” he stated flatly. I made a face at him that I hoped would depict that I wasn’t amused.

“Food then, vegetarian.” I stated, “your boss did promise me breakfast, even though it’s nearly dinner”

“He meant tomorrow” the man groaned, “breakfast tomorrow at the big meeting”

“So, no food or water? You’re planning on keeping me here indefinitely in starvation?” I crossed my arms and watched the much larger and taller man looked uncertain. He knew nothing this pawn, I decided.

“Perhaps you can clear it up with Mr. Monocle? I haven’t eaten in nearly 20 hours, by my count, but I’ve been out for a quite a bit of it, so I can’t be sure” I laid out all the cards I had, and I knew this person was only in-charge of keeping me here and nothing more. Perhaps he was one of the men that were present for my capture, but that was not a certainty. By the sounds of it, Mr. Monocle liked to keep his secrets close to himself alone, and people like that usually were far too callous for my taste, especially since I was one of them myself.

The large man exited through the heavy steel doors with a huff of what I sensed to be dissatisfaction: perhaps he’d been led to believe guarding me would be the easiest job he’d ever have to do. I’d have to try extra hard to make sure he’d be proven otherwise.

I took another turn of the room, hoping it’d help wake my mind up. I bumped into the bed again, this time against my right thigh, and winced.

The orientation of this room was terrible, I decided, especially of the wall-mounted bed with the cardboard mattress: this room seemed to be designed to be unbearable even in the best of situations. I allowed myself to be seated on the scratchy cardboard mattress, reminding myself that if this imprisonment was meant to be indefinite, that meant I couldn’t just sleep on the chair. The cardboard mattress disagreed vehemently with my bottom, and I was forced to stand up and decide to die an early death instead of attempting to sleep on the mattress for even a moment. I stretched my back absently, sitting down on the ground to do some basic stretching and get my blood flowing where it needed to: my brain.

Thinking about my situation once again, I was obviously no good to the man dead, otherwise, I’d already be dead. Which meant he needed me to do something for him: a favour of some sort, in exchange for freedom, if freedom was even an option. If he wasn’t going to set me free after asking a massive favour of me, I would prefer he kill me now, rather than later, though perhaps I wouldn’t say those exact words to him.

The heavy door groaned and opened and I turned from my spot on the ground to watch Mr. Monocle enter wearing his usual air of entitlement.

“I hear you made some demands?” he asked, as if it was something unexpected.

“Yes, I asked for freedom” I admitted, turning so that I was sitting down facing him. Mr. Monocle hmphed as he strode into the room.

“I heard you gave your guard a hard time?” he sounded somehow pleased, despite his face looking questionable at best. I gave him my best irritated face, which somehow seemed to please him more, for his frown let up and his lips were drawn taut horizontally, rather than down-turned.

“State your demands is a very difficult proposition to not let down” I admitted, a nagging feeling appearing in the back of my mind as I stared his monocle: like a memory I’d suppressed? Or forgotten?

“Why, then, are you stretching on the floor like a savage?” he asked, which earned him a proper glare.

“Your sorry excuse of a mattress is making me re-think trying to outlast my captivity” I admitted truthfully. He scowled from behind his monocle, looked at the mattress, re-adjusted his monocle, as if would help him assess the mattress’ faults, then looked at me once again.

“Perhaps your lodgings are less than suitable” he admitted, scowling briefly, “I shall arrange for you to be moved to a proper room, seeing as you will be with us for a time”

“Boarding would be appreciated,” I stood up, “You shouldn’t let your unwilling guests starve to death, Mister”

Mr. Monocle raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t an insult; it was just about good manners. Absently I thought to myself, I was the last person to be talking about good manners, even if it was in a roundabout sort of way, but Irony has a fun way of being.

“I suppose I shouldn’t” he agreed, somewhat unwillingly, “I do intend to keep you here for a while, Miss Alnavar”

“You have so many advantages over me, Mister” I pointed out, “The least you could do is tell me who’s holding me captive? And for what personal vendetta?”

His eyebrows drew together and I immediately felt like a pre-schooler who’d wet their pants in school: utterly ashamed, but without the ability to change it in any way.

“I assumed everyone recognized my face” he stated, “There’s plenty of things with my face on it…” he paused dramatically, “Sir Reginald Hargreeves is holding you captive, young lady, and know this: I have no personal vendetta against you… I only want this present to remain, and for that, I need you here, in New York, until the very end”

The way he said ‘very end’, it was hard to not think of the world ending, though I suppose he meant my very personal end, and not the whole world of 8 billion people.

It was a little sad that he’d not meant the latter, but at least I knew now what Reginald Hargreeves actually looked like.

The pictures had seemed like caricatures of him, but now I saw his hooked nose, his monocle, his glare: it had been far truer to his actual self than any photograph might’ve been: whoever had drawn this for him, knew him well, or perhaps, knew well enough to depict him as he ought to have been seen.

“Lodge and board for one, Miss” he stated matter-of-factly, before he was striding out of the cell, leaving me as I had been when he’d arrived: on the cold floor, uncertain of the future, but certain of death.

Chapter Text

The Cell

The next time the steel door opened, a muscled bodyguard stood outside the door and watched me. I was still on the floor, stretching out my back muscles, but I was cold from having been in that position for so long.

"I am to guide you to your new room" he stated nearly as mechanically as a fully functioning robot.

"Ok" I replied uncertainly, standing up and then dusting my pants.

"You will need to be restrained before you're moved" he added holding a pair of handcuffs up dramatically. I gave him my best disbelieving look. He seemed unaffected as I approached the door, then proceeded to place said cuffs onto my wrists with ease before producing from somewhere on his person, a black baggie: the same kind of black baggie that they’d thrown over my head in the alleyway while abducting me… the same baggie that had forced me to take the last of my prophylactic antihistamines to ensure I wouldn’t, unwittingly, end up with an asthma attack.

“I’d rather be maimed to be permanently blind rather than have that baggie over my head” I stated with such abrupt certainty that the body builder seemed surprised by it.

“I also have this blindfold” he produced from his suit pocket a black eye mask, that one might use while travelling, which seemed less dusty than the baggie.

I still made a face as he used the mask to cover my eyes, before I was being led out the dusty room and through a million or so corridors before the air stopped being so musty, and instead smelled like lavender and coolant. Fake fresh air. I was slightly relieved I couldn’t smell the musty odours anymore as I was released into a space and my handcuffs were uncuffed. I heard the door closing behind me and the lock clicking into place before I reached up to untie the mask.

I dropped the mask as my eyes opened and into my view came the most luxuriously decorated room I’d ever physically been in: a tall ceiling floated grandiosely above my head, and hanging from it the middle of the ceiling was a tiny, yet somehow simultaneously, luxurious chandelier.

There was a large four poster queen bed placed against one wall, and a large desk and chair on the opposite side, with a mirror hanging above it. There were other decorations throughout the room that indicated it was decorated to be shown-off, and it seemed to be doing a good job. I walked through the carpeted floor until I reached the bed, where I kicked off my shoes and sat down. I sank into the soft mattress that seemed to want to engulf me entirely, and it wasn't such a bad idea to let it do so. The door clicked open just as I decided to abandon this world and take up the bed's offer of an eternity of sleep.

Two buff bodyguards stood at the door, one of them held it open while the other brought in a tray, which he placed on the desk. He shuffled out quickly and returned with a jug and glass, which he also placed on the desk, and without another word, they both left. I looked at the tray that obviously contained food and debated whether I wanted to eat first or to sleep, and I was genuinely torn about what aspect of my body I ought to satisfy first - my mind, which was already exhausted beyond hope, or my stomach, who'd been deprived the bare necessities for far too long.

I sat up on the bed and eyed the tray of food, before I was convinced of it. They wouldn't poison me in such a luxurious room at least, I mused to myself as I got out of bed and went to the tray. I poured myself a glass of water and downed it just as quickly, then poured another before seating myself down at the table and opened the covered bowl of food they'd brought for me.

The moments before I opened the lid, I was worried it would be surely some animal byproduct which I didn't eat, like beef, or chicken, and I was a little disappointed when that thought went through my mind. I racked my brain to recall if I'd told Sir Reginald Hargreeves that I was, for all intents and purposes, vegetarian, but I couldn't, not with the hypoglycemia, the drugs, the dust, and the trauma that I'd had to process in the past 30-some hours.

The lid came off before I could berate my past self any longer, and any doubt I had was gone. It wasn't meat. It was oatmeal.

Rage burned through me. All this luxury, these bloody curtains, the dozens of pillows, the silk sheets, the four-poster bed with fancy frills! And they eat oatmeal! Capitalists were the worst. They had no idea how to actually live. How to actually enjoy life! And this, coming from a chronically depressed medical school drop-out!

I picked up the spoon and ate my oatmeal. It was oatmeal. I drank my water. I found the bathroom door sitting hidden behind a moving shelf-case. I used the bathroom. I took off my jeans that I'd been wearing for the past day. I climbed under the duvet and decided to sleep. At least that's one thing these people knew how to do correctly.

I lay awake under the duvet, looking up at the floral wallpaper of the ceiling. It was at least 40 years old-this wallpaper. The duvet smelt freshly laundered though. I stuck my nose under the covers as I looked at the ceiling. 40-year-old floral wallpaper. Vintage four-poster bed. A man wearing a monocle in the 21st century. Breakfast from the 19th century. Whoever these people were, I realised abruptly, I was out of my depth. This was not something that I could and would handle well, I was beginning to understand that. At least, not with my track-record of bolting-when-in-doubt that I'd had going since I was 25.

I stared at the ceiling. Had it already been 4 years since then? Four years since I'd packed my bags and disappeared into the night like the protagonist of a true crime mystery? I remembered all hat I'd let when I left the West Coast - my future, my friends, my love... I stared at the ceiling, unable to close this world out and go to sleep anymore, because now that I had remembered him surely he'd visit me in my dream, surely I'd wake up with tears in my eyes again, surely I'd wake up wishing I was dead instead.

Time seemed to slow and turn sluggish. The chandelier looked somewhat out of place in this background of floral wallpaper and four-poster bed with frilly curtains. It was, for lack of better word, too grand. It was, unnecessarily luxurious, this whole room, all these people, and I hated it. The hours ticked by and the most I'd rested was allowing my eyes to close briefly while I heard the rush of blood through my ears, keeping me awake, alert, and I knew that the medication had worn off.

I don't remember when I drifted off to sleep, but when I regained consciousness, I was sleeping on my belly instead of my back, and I'd fought a blanket-battle and lost, so only one of my little feet had managed to gain access to the outside world, while the rest of my limbs were, for all intents and purposes, tied up beneath the blankets and my own body.

Someone cleared their throat, and I realised what had woken me up: the door opening, perhaps. I sat up, freeing my arms from the blanket cage and looked towards the door. These two goons were not the same as the last two. For one was a woman with blonde-dyed hair and a mean smirk, and the other was a man with a French beard and in need of a good haircut.

"Let's go" the man announced. I looked down at the blanket covering my naked legs, then up and across the room to the chair on which I'd conveniently thrown the pants I was wearing on before climbing into the bed and making it my deathbed. I frowned at him.

"Get out" I muttered, "I need to get dressed"

He gave me a stink eye that would've hurt the person I was in the past, but not the current me.

"Get out, or I never come and you'll have to drag me there, like a corpse" It was a threat, and I hope he got it.

He scrunched his nose and stepped out of the room. I froze until I heard the key turn, then got out and pulled on the jeans that I'd abandoned. I suddenly wished I could brush my teeth and wash my face, so I stepped into the bathroom and locked it, it had a lock! And found a unopened toothbrush and toothpaste, which I used, then washed my face with soap and water - that's all they had, no cleanser or face wash. I sighed at myself as I wiped the water off, then stepped out of the room.

Thankfully, the goon hadn't returned while I was using the facilities. I walked up to the door and knocked on it, before stepping back and away as they door unlocked.

The woman smiled at me.
"If the Hargreeves was keeping you here, does that mean you're his precious treasure?" she asked, in a British accent. I frowned. The previous goons didn't attempt to speak to me, let alone try to strike up conversation.

"I'd say more like a captive" I replied, despite myself, "Doesn't your boss tell you anything?"

"He's not our boss" the man said, as the woman put her arm on my shoulder and led me through the corridor. I noted that the goon who'd brought me the tray of food was lying crumpled in the posh corridor, and suddenly panic rose in me. The woman seemed to sense it and her grip around my neck tightened, to prevent me leaving, and I realised I was just randomly following people now instead of confirming their identities.

"Come along now, don't be shy" she continued, as if she wasn't holding me against my will, "Once dear old Reg realises he's lost his precious, he'll tell us everything we need to know"

The man frowned.

"I wonder about that, dear old Dad didn't have much care for people, not even his own children" he muttered, obviously hurt.

"You're Hargreeves children too?" I managed to voice.

The man turned to me.

"Too?" he repeated, "You've met my brothers?"

"Yes" I replied, "I think I'm quite done with the luxurious lifestyle" I added, not struggling against the woman's hold anymore, "I need to get back home now"

"What about my brothers?"

I looked at the man.

"I can take you to where I last met them, if you want" I offered, "If you get me out, as thanks"

The man smiled and looked at the woman, and they exchanged a look and I decided they weren't brother and sister at all. They seemed to have come to a silent agreement.

"Alright, Miss, you've intrigued us. We have a deal" she said. I nodded and looked at the hand she held out for me to shake. I took it and gave it a small shake.

"Lila Pitts, at your service" she introduced, then gestured to the man, "and Diego Hargreeves"

Chapter Text

Lila and Diego were a force of nature to be reckoned with. Lila took up the front, and Diego the back and they led me through the large and overly luxuriously decorated corridors and "dealt" with numerous men in black-suits who approached us from either direction. Their movements were swift, precise, and dare I say it, immediately lethal. I tried not to think about that too much. About how the bodies that were dropping down now might not ever get back up, I was running purely on adrenaline, and my mind was selective letting me see and think only about myself for a moment.

In retrospect, I was too trusting a person, to just follow someone whose last name was Hargreeves, just because it was Ben's last name too.

In retrospect, I should've sensed the crazy on these two the moment they decided to take me along with them without even thinking too much about it.

In retrospect, these two lunatics might've thought they were kidnapping me from Reginald Hargreeves, not freeing me from him.

Multiple long corridors of black-suited men later, we arrived at the main gate, where there were already a few men prostrating on the floor in various positions, and once again, I chose to ignore it, actively suppressing myself as I followed this couple to the SUV parked on graveled ground and helped myself to the backseat.

"Where are we headed?" Lila asked as Diego got into the drivers' seat and strapped himself in.

"New York" I replied, "Obsidian Memorial park?"

Lila scowled at me, then at Diego.

"Of course it'll take your brothers a week to not even leave the park"

"A week?" I replied. Lila looked at me.

"Since we arrived. You must've heard"

"A week since you arrived in the park?" I replied, racking my brain to remember the day I was taken. It was the 6th.

"It's May 10?" I asked, confirming how long it had been since Ben had arrived.

"Yep" Diego responded, checking the mirrors and then pulling out of the driveway, "Obsidian Memorial Park" he muttered to himself as he began to drive.

"Where are we right now?" I asked, curious about how long it would take us.

"Just outside of Providence" Lila replied, "We'll get there in about 2 hours, once we stop for some snacks"

I sat in the back seat in silence, wondering briefly about the things they'd confiscated from me on my capture, my phone that had no memories, the wallet that was full of memories, and I let out a sigh that I'd meant to swallow down.

"You ok back there?" Lila questioned, glancing at me briefly. I looked up at her and shrugged.

"I didn't retrieve the things they took from me, phone, wallet, keys"

The keys to my apartment! I frowned at my hands in my lap, how was I to enter the apartment without my keys? How was I supposed to call the carpenter without my phone? How were we going to pay for this pitstop we were making with no money or cards?

Diego pulled into the gas station and began refilling the tank, while Lila jumped out the car and went straight to the snacks section. I wondered if I wanted to get out of the car. I wondered if I was somehow, kidnapped by a different set of people. I wondered if this was all part of an elaborate plan by Reginald Hargreeves to show me where is adoptive alternate-timeline children were. Diego was fighting with the pump and the last thought in my head was shot down. Incompetence in basic things was something you couldn't fake. I frowned at Diego and wondered about it, until I heard a noise like multiple racks of items falling over, and turned to the store, where Lila emerged, the largest grin on her face, and her hands full of chips, jerky, chocolates, and whatnot. Diego smiled at her, obviously proud, and walked up to kiss her. I looked away, suddenly aware that it wasn't for my eyes, it was personal.

The car moved as they both got in, and the drive resumed.

"Chips?" Lila offered. I declined her politely. She popped a pack open and began to eat them, and fed them to Diego too. I leaned back against the car seat, allowed myself to imagine I was being driven home, like when we were young, and I fell asleep in the car, just like now.

When I woke up, we were already deep in traffic in downtown Manhattan, the sun low on the horizon, the crowd that was heading home being the majority contributor to the traffic. Diego showed the exact emotions of someone who hated New York traffic: irritability and borderline psychosis. Lila's grin indicated she absolutely loved that about him.

"You took a nice long nap, Missy" Lila commented as she noticed I was awake.

"Sorry about that" I mumbled, "Did you have any difficulty maneuvering through the city"

"This is my hometown, kid. I'm not going to need help here" Diego informed mildly, "Want to catch us up on how exactly a city kid like you ended up in my old man's mansion?"

"I don't really know why or how it happened myself though" I admitted, "I'm guessing your brothers would want to hear it too, so I'll tell you the story when we get there"

"Hmmph" he harrumphed.

"How much longer till we get there?"

"We'll get there when we get there!" was his irritated response. Lila put her hand on his arm to soothe him, and it seemed to work briefly, until someone cut in in front of him and Diego went verbally abusive on him until the lights turned green and we finally moved again.

10 minutes later, we'd arrived at the falafel place. I was, surprisingly, eager to see Ben, Ned and the others too. I scowled at my own inner thoughts as we pulled into park and I forced myself to get out of the car and face whatever awaited me.

"This place looks rundown" Diego commented, "And abandoned"

I frowned, agreeing with him, but I still stepped into the place to look for signs of life, and I did find them: evidence of the siblings' presence here: footprints in the dust, the smell of old taco and spilt fizzy drinks, the tracks in the dust from when they had restrained the PI. I scowled at them, then at the place itself. Why weren't they here? Were they back at Ned's place? Ned's place was too far to go from here.

"They may be at the bookstore" I concluded aloud, then turned to face the couple. Lila looked unconvinced, as did Diego.

"Aren't you lying to us?" Diego asked. I frowned at him.

"I came with you willingly, what would I lie to you about?"

"Everything! This is a trap set by the old man to get us out the Mansion!" Diego spat, then turned to Lila, "We should've gone deeper through the Mansion"

Lila's frown was not the same as Diego's.

"I think the problem isn't that she's fooling us, Diego" Lila stated, "The problem is she thinks she's clever enough to outsmart us"

It was a surprise that these two people who were obviously foolish enough to find and raid the old man's mansion would be foolish enough to suspect me, who was clearly a captive in the mansion, and
think that I was the one manipulating them, and not the other way around.

"If not anyone else, Ned will be there" I stated, "Ned is the adoptive child of Reginald Hargreeves of this timeline, as far as I know, so since you've trusted me this far, all the way to New York, trust me 5 more blocks?"

Lila and Diego shared a look. I wonder what they were discussing so much with their eyes. I frowned at them, then at my feet. I found a scrap piece of paper that had half a phone number on it. I froze. I recognized those digits. I bent down to pick it up and heard the clicking of guns before looking up to find Lila and Diego had pointed them straight at me. I didn't even know they had guns.

"Just picking up paper" I informed. They put their guns away. I straightened and looked at the digits again. Yup. I knew the order of these number alright.

"Come on, let's go" I said, beginning to walk, they scowled at me, "Let's be honest guys, if you were going to kill me, you'd have done it in the room where you found me" I shrugged, "You have more information you don't want to share with me yet, that's fine, but I'm tired, hungry, and in need of a bath, so can we please do this later? With an audience-slash-witness if possible?"

Lila nodded to Diego and whatever discussion they were having, it was concluded as I was allowed to walk past them and out the falafel place. They'd catch me if I ran, I knew that. Even though I'd run away from Ben twice, I knew running from these two meant a bullet in my back, nothing less.

I decided to walk to the bookstore. It took us 15 minutes to do the walk, with two psychopath assassins on my heel who didn't need to have a physical leash on me, just the psychological one was sufficient. I felt more grimy than I ever had as we arrived, and the bell tinkled as I entered the shop. Ned and Viktor were standing at the counter, obviously discussing something before they turned to the sound and froze.

"Viktor!" Diego greeted and the momentary stunned silence was broken.

"Diego?" Viktor greeted, "Lila?"

"Zia!" said Ned almost simultaneously, and even before the brothers would greet each other with their manly hugs, rushed to envelop me in a proper hug.

"You're alive! Thank the Heavens!" he murmured, "We thought you were gone forever! Ben's going to be so excited!"

I pushed at Ned's chest to escape from the brotherly hug and made a face at the mention of Ben's name.

"These two broke me out of the Hargreeves mansion" I said, nodding to the couple who were now greeting Viktor quite enthusiastically, their momentary psychopathy forgotten as they laughed like normal people.

"Your sixth brother is crazy" I murmured to him, "Can I get my spare keys from you? I missed getting mine back from when I was taken by your dad"

"He's not my dad" Ned muttered angrily, then scowled, "I sort of, don't have your keys"

"What?" I frowned, "Did you lose them?"

"No, I used it to go and check on you when you didn't answer any calls and, the guy the PI hired turned up on my doorstep demanding I produce you from wherever I was hiding you, and then, Ben confiscated them from me to keep an eye on your place" he murmured. I scowled. Ben! Being ridiculous again!

"And you thought letting a stranger use my house was appropriate?"

"Well, the guy who turned-up on your doorstep that day refused to leave, so Ben refused to leave and Luther and Klaus said we'll just camp out here till we figured out our next move, and Five just bolted"

"As per usual" Viktor chimed in.

"So, Vik and I came here to see if we could get in touch with Reg, but he's refusing to take my calls" Ned summed up swiftly.

"Four strange men are bunking out in my flat right now with my cat?"

"Yes"

"This is a nightmare" I groaned, "I'm out" I said, looking at them, Ned, Viktor, Diego, Lila, and nodded, "Yeah, I'm out. Don't bother with me anymore, alright. I'm tired of all you Hargreeves"

"We aren't done yet, Missy" Lila smirked, and I had to hold back a groan, though I couldn't.

"The nightmare continues" I mumbled to myself as I turned to the exit, "Do you want to follow me, or should we just hang about here while my cat creates havoc?"

"Let's go!" Ned chimed in, hurrying to get his keys so he could lock the place and follow. I glared at the streets of New York, suddenly not feeling what I needed to feel anymore. I moved here so I could blend into the crowd, not be in the spotlight anymore. Now, it felt like there were multiple spotlights on me, and I just absolutely hated it.

Diego and Viktor exchanged stories of their time apart as we made the 20 minute walk back to my apartment. Lila chimed in on their conversation sometimes, mostly her eye was on me, behind her, walking with Ned, who had taken it upon himself to give me comfort, which he did with his long arm draped over my shoulder casually. I had allowed him so much after 4 years of being employer-employee and impromptu book enthusiasts.

"Have you eaten anything? You know you've been missing 4 days you know"

"I slept most of it" I assured him, "I had to take an antihistamine to prevent dust allergy in the mold-ridden cellar of your dad's mansion"

"Oh"

"Why did your dad kidnap me, do you think?"

"I have no idea, Zia" he assured, "He and I haven't ever seen eye-to-eye. Even Mom's patience ran thin with us. We were always on opposite ends, bickering about everything, about how to do something, or how not to do something, how to live, how to treat people"

"Doesn't explain why I needed to be kidnapped though" I added. He hummed and walked a little faster. I sighed to myself.

"The guy who came looking for you on the day you went missing" Ned started, making me glance up at him briefly, "You haven't asked about him"

"I think I know who it is" I assured. He nodded.

"It's the guy who hired the PI" he added, "He knows things about you, Zia, literally knows everything about you"

"I know" I assured, "that's how he found me, isn't it? Cause he knows me so well"

Ned hmphed. I sighed.

"We're here" Viktor informed us gently, as we arrived at the street that my apartment was on. We walked on and I briefly shifted so that Ned's arm was no longer on my shoulder: it had started to feel burdensome and restrictive after a while.

"ZIA!"

I froze in my tracks at the street crossing and turned to the voice. Ben stood on the other side, eyes wide and haggard, holding Tofu in his arms like a baby, who was also staring at me wide-eyed. In three swift, long strides, Ben crossed the street and abruptly, my hands were full of Tofu, who had decided to spring from his arms into mine when he was close enough and I caught him before he fell, and he rubbed himself all over me, purring in reassurance. Ben stood 4 inches away, looking down at me, though I didn't need to look up at him to see that he was doing so, his breath on the top of my head was enough. I glanced up at him and saw his dark eyes briefly soften, his lips looked less like a grimace and his hands were reaching out but uncertain if they were allowed to touch me.

"Zia"

This voice I'd nearly forgotten after our time apart, low with a sort of cracking, hurried, always, and turned to meet a face I never thought I'd see ever again.

"Caleb" I greeted the man whose skin was as brown as mine, who was nearly as tall as Ben, whose stupid Star Wars shirt was still worn and messy as ever, whose crocs looked like they'd seen better days (they had, I was there then) and his eyes looked sad: the one thing that was new about him. In all the time I'd known him, Caleb never had sad eyes.

"Zia" Ben called and I looked at him now, then at Caleb, then back, and I felt overwhelmed. I let out a breath.

"I can't deal with this right now" I assured, stepping back so I was out of Ben's personal space and everyone else's and looked around at the crowd of people around me.

"Zee, we need to talk" Caleb voiced, reaching his hand out. I flinched back and he paused, hesitating, before withdrawing his hand and stuffing it into his pockets, like he used to back when we were barely friends, before everything.

"I think what Zia needs is a little time to adjust to being freed" Ned voiced and it was obviously the wrong thing to say, for Ben's rage was palpable.

"You were held captive? By whom? Where? How did you get out?!"

"You're crowding her" Caleb said, putting his hand on Ben's shoulder, "Give her some space"

"Why don't you give her some space, prick" Ben spat. I frowned at them.

"Ben!" Viktor put a hand on Ben's shoulder to calm him down. Ben threw it off. He lifted his right hand and made a fist aimed at punching Caleb.

"Just stop" I voiced, putting my hand on his forearm, "Ben, stop"

He froze, turning his glare to me, but his fist unclenched and he put his hand down. Caleb looked at me, then at him and his brows drew together.

"I think we should leave" Ned suggested, "Ben, you're in charge of Zia's safety for now, We'll all just head back to the store"

"I don't wanna do that" Lila stated, crossing her arms dramatically.

"I think we should" Viktor said, "I'll go get Luther and Klaus and we'll leave so Zia can settle in and find the time to tell us what happened"

"Riiight" Diego nodded, with a roll of his eyes. Tofu climbed onto my shoulder and snuggled into my neck, settling himself down. Ben was giving me a look that meant a hundred things, and I understood none of them. I withdrew my hand from his forearm.

"How did you find me?" I asked, turning to Caleb.

"I had to go old-school" Caleb said, "I knew you'd be on the East coast, either New York or Boston, and I hired PI's in both cities to look for employees who were women. They sent me photos and I kept on rejecting them until this guy found you"

"I'm sorry" I shook my head, "What I meant to ask was: why are you looking for me now? After all this time?"

"Babe, I never stopped looking for you" he said, and the way the word babe rolled off his tongue felt familiar and like home, "It's just so many women work in these two cities. Can you imagine how many women work here?"

"Over ten million" I rolled my eyes, "Don't call me babe" I added.

"Right. Sorry" he grinned, and that was familiar too. I scowled at him.

"Why are you still looking for me, Caleb" I mumbled, half-frustrated, half-concerned, about why he was still looking for me, though I'd broken his heart and left him, and everyone else we knew, behind.

"Zia, can we talk? Please?" he sounded like he was begging, "And what I mean by that is, please talk to me so I can understand what your thoughts are, because I can't decode them on my own anymore? Please? I'll be quiet and just listen and won't comment, judge, or ridicule you, scout's honor" he raised his hand in the sign that indicated he was being honorable, though he needn't have. There had never been a time when Caleb had been anything but honorable.

I sighed, turning to Ben.

"I need some privacy" I told him bluntly, "Can I please use my apartment for a bit when I'm not being subject to observation?"

Ben's scowl was as hard and unyielding as I'd ever known it to be.

"Twenty minutes" his lips uttered, "That's all I can promise, Zia, twenty"

I nodded and watched as the entire Hargreeves clan walked out of my apartment building and retreated away from me, with Klaus being held back by Luther and Viktor, lest he tackle me in a hug, it looked like, and Ned was giving me his usual reassuring nod as he threw the keys at me. I didn't catch the keys thrown at me though, I flinched and Ben reached out swiftly to grab them, then held them out for me.

"I will buy some snacks for you in the meantime" he stated, nodding to the mart across the street, then, turning to Caleb added in an even more menacing voice, "I'm watching you"

Caleb rolled his eyes like he's dealt with Ben everyday of his whole life and waved him off. I turned to the apartment building that was my home for the past half decade. I looked at Caleb, gesturing for him to follow, though why I did so, I didn't know, he knew where I lived now, after having squatted in my room while I was being held hostage in another state.

Tofu leapt off my shoulder once we were in the building, and I followed him easily to the elevator, which arrived just as we did. Caleb remained quiet as we rode up to my flat, and it made me wonder what he planned to say once we were within the close confines of my apartment.

I let him in with my keys, which I promptly deposited on the shelf by the door, as I used to with my previous ones.

"I'm sure I have some type of tea" I mumbled walking to the kitchen to busy myself and give him the time to frame and ask me his questions.

"Zia" he murmured, "Sit?"

I turned to him from the other side of the counter, keeping the distance between us seemed like a safe option. I shook my head.

"I can't" I mumbled, "Ask me whatever you want to know, but knowing that I might not be able to explain any of this well"

"OK" he spoke softly, sitting himself at the bar stool across from me on the other side of the counter, "Walk me through what happened. You quit your job, left home, changed your phone number all within a week. What was that about?"

I frowned, and looked down at the ground, at the tips of my socks, which used to be grey, but now were brown.

"A 33-year-old woman came into the emergency room" I started, "She came in gasping for breath. Her husband had called the ambulance after he noticed her waking up gasping in the middle of the night" my voice cracked, so I paused and swallowed the thickness in my throat. Swallowed my guilt and shame. Swallowed my pride too.

"I had seen her 3 days before that in clinic, alive and well, complaining that her heart seemed to racing all the time" I glanced up, eyes moistened suddenly now that I was talking about my misgivings instead of ignoring them and pretending they didn't exist.

"She died because I missed a major disease because I was overconfident, ignorant, and too prideful to ask for help" I concluded. Caleb stood from the stool he was sitting on and rounded the counter until he was within a foot of me. He reached out his hand and I didn't move away when he put it on my shoulder to pull me in for a hug.

"Zee, I'm sure you didn't mean to miss a major disease" he breathed against my shoulder, "But one mistake doesn't mean anything. It's a mistake, you learn the lesson it's trying to teach you and move on with your life. You don't have to let one mistake dictate your whole life"

His voice was even, his hands were comforting, his demeanor was kind: exactly the reasons I hadn't told him any of this and had simply chosen to walk away.

"I don't" I sniffled heavily against his shoulder, breathed in through my nose as the tears ran freely down my cheeks, "I'm not sure who was trying to teach me the lesson or what exactly it was... all I know is the lesson I learnt from it: I am not a good or reliable doctor"

"Zia, you can't derive that conclusion after one mistake" he said, pulling away to give me his serious face.

"How many?"

"What?" he was confused. I stepped back, rubbing my eyes on my sleeves.

"How many mistakes would you accept is the right number to arrive at that conclusion?" I asked him, "How many people's deaths? How many lives?"

He looked aghast: I had hurt him in saying these things because they were indigestible.

"Zia" he sighed, his hand clenching into a fist. I nodded.

"Exactly my point" I reiterated, "Exactly why I couldn't keep going like it didn't matter, because it did... it does matter... even one life matters, I know that better than anyone"

Caleb scowled, rubbing the back of his neck, before looking up to meet my gaze once again.

"I don't know what to say to convince you to come back home with me" he mumbled. I shrugged.

"I am home, Caleb." I admitted, "Out here, no one's life depends on my decisions, my actions, or my ignorance" I told him.

"I'm finally free of the burden I've carried for the past decade" I claimed, "Nothing I do here affects anyone at all"

Caleb scowled at me.

"How are you though? Are you happy?"

"I keep going because everyone else keeps going" I admitted, "I am not burdened with a difficult task anymore: I just have to live this one day. Then, I start over again in the morning. And I keep going. Day after day, without it accumulating into anything at all."

Caleb looked unconvinced, but he always seemed so when I spoke random philosophical things, as if he wanted to intervene, but was too afraid to do so.

"You could've done this back on the West coast" he muttered, "Why leave?"

I sighed. Now, came the really ugly part.

"My parents said they'd disown me if I quit my residency" I admitted softly, "And that I'd have to live alone, without financial support from them - they made it clear that if I quit, they'd not be treating me as family any more"

"And so you left... before they could abandon you, you abandoned them?"

"Something like that"

"What about me?"

"I gave you up because it was the right thing to do" I admitted, hands clenching into fists at my side, though he couldn't see them, "You deserve someone who makes you happy, makes you laugh, and I wasn't that person anymore. I was empty, a shell, a burden"

"I wish you'd let that be my decision" he stated, "I wish you'd at least talked to me before running away from everything... I would've come with you..."

"And left behind Eli? Your family?" I shook my head, "I would've hated myself if I made you do that... and you'd have resented me for making you do it too" I sighed, "I left because it was the only thing that made sense"

"You left because you planned to die out here" he stated, "And you didn't... that's all that happened... you gave up everyone and everything that anchored you on this planet so that you could come out here, die without feeling like you were burdening anyone with your death"

He'd hit the mark. I winced. I looked down at the floor where Tofu was now curling at my feet. Tofu who was the only reason, for many months, why I didn't give up and end my life - because my dumb cat wouldn't survive the New York wilderness.

He sighed. I peeked up at him, swallowing the lump in my throat and blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm just glad you're alive" he breathed, "All the time I spent looking for you, I prayed" he admitted, "That I wouldn't find out about a nameless dead woman found in a ditch... that you'd be alive... that I'd get to see you again, talk to you again, hold you again..." he let out a shaky breath, and I realised he was on the verge of tears too.

"Three out of four isn't bad, so we can't fault the Gods" he concluded, with a short laugh.

"Caleb" I breathed out, "I am sorry about everything... about leaving... about shutting you out... about being a coward... may be this is all there is to us... just some people who knew each other for a while... that's all we are..."

"I would've gone to the end of the world with you" he murmured, "fought off a zombie apocalypse... braved your horrendous family..."

"I would've been devastated if I asked so much of you... when I know I can give nothing of equal value in return..."

"And therein lies the root of our problem" he sighed, "You measure every deed done... and there's always need of a balance of give and take... but some times, the give and take aren't equal"

"There lies your problem... you keep giving and expect nothing in return, want nothing in return... as if I can't give you what you truly desire... or perhaps I'm incapable of doing so"

"Trivialities" he huffed, "You abandoned me based on your mood and now are fighting me off with trivialities"

I sighed.

"I want... both of us... to move on" I admitted, "I know I'll never get over you... you are my most precious, precious friend, turned partner, turned confidante, turned lover... and if I let you back into my life now, I will feel too guilty about everything in the last five years, and every moment we've spent before that will turn into a sourness"

He was looking at me like I was stabbing him in the chest. I was, figuratively, stabbing him in the chest.

"Selfish" he muttered, "Your years on the East coast made you selfish"

He sighed heavily, reached up to rub his eyes beneath his glasses, before readjusting them.

"Then, perhaps, all is not in vain" he concluded. Tofu jumped up onto the counter with ease and prodded his head against my head, asking for pets. Caleb looked at the feline curiously.

"You finally have a pet cat" he continued, "I thought you were allergic"

"I think that's just a lie my parents told me to prevent me having any pets"

Caleb sighed.

"Your other pet seems quite the troublesome one" he commented. I scowled at him, not quite getting it, until he gave me a pointed look.

"Ben? Ben's not my... anything..."

Caleb rolled his eyes.

"Then you need a pair of glasses, or a new pair of eyes, cause that guy would definitely burn the world for you, he almost killed me when I arrived... thought I was the one who'd kidnapped you and all... a real piece of work" Caleb huffed.

"I don't even know the guy" I mumbled, just as the doorbell chimed. Caleb walked to the door to get it, and was met with Ben's brooding glare. Caleb seemed unfazed by that expression, as if he were used to it now, and let him in.

"Your twenty minutes are up" Ben announced, "Leave"

Caleb rolled his eyes.

"Have a seat Ben" he offered, returning to my side at the kitchen counter, "Should I order something for lunch? You must be starving" he asked. I scowled, putting Tofu down.

"I'm exhausted, actually, so I think I'll just clean myself up and take a nap" I admitted, "You both can enjoy lunch, is it? Or dinner... without me"

I stepped away from the kitchen and towards the bathroom. Ben intercepted me as Caleb stared curiously at Tofu, who was staring back.

"I got you some bath salts" he said, holding a bottle out at me, "It'll help relax sore muscles and stuff"

The action and the thought behind it were both were kind on his part, though his expression didn't seem to shift from murderous into anything else. I received the bottle.

"Thanks" I mumbled, "Also for looking after Tofu, I know that can't have been easy"

"He and I have come to an understanding" Ben informed me sternly, "Not the man though - he can't be reasoned with"

A small smile formed on my face at his words, and his face softened briefly as I smiled at him. Then, he cleared his throat and stepped back.

"You're safe here, I assure you" he stated, "You can be carefree"

"Thank you" I said again, stepping towards my cupboard to grab what clothes I needed, before retreating into the bathroom, feeling, as Ben had pointed out, safe.

Chapter Text

Zia's apartment. May 10th, 2019. 6 pm.

The hot-water shower had done wonders on me that no food or drink would've at that point. I felt like a newly unwrapped present: fresh out of the packaging box: squeaky clean. The bath salts Ben had brought for me were lavender, which were divine in both aroma and action, for it had half-lulled me to sleep. Stepping out of the bathroom, out of the lavender scented air, I smelled buttery garlic and I felt ridiculously starved. Looking around, I found Caleb was setting up the kitchen island with the takeout boxes he seemed to have ordered and got delivered all while I was indulging in my bath-time.

"You still like dumplings?" Caleb asked as I approached the island, suddenly aware that Ben was seated on the couch, pointedly turned towards the telly that was playing the news.

"Yes" I confirmed, "When did you order these?"

"Just now, as you went to freshen up"

"They're quite fast"

"I paid extra for express delivery"

"Oh. That's wasteful"

"Did I mention I have a 401k now?"

"Oh, that's amazing! I always knew you'd do well in life"

"As did I, about you"

Caleb's smile wasn't cruel, it was sad. Caleb smiled sad now, I realised, and it was a downer to see him act this way.

"Ben, come join us" Caleb invited, and I seated myself at the island, while Caleb served food on a plate for me, which he'd found himself and had found forks and spoons too, along with a large plate that
he was using as dumpling platter, for he seemed to have ordered at least 4 types of dumplings, except soup dumplings.

"Where are the bowls for the soup dumplings?" he asked.

"In that shelf" I nodded, "Here, let me..."

"No no, I got it" Caleb assured, gesturing for me to remain seated, "Ben, dude, come on, the dumplings are getting cold"

"Dumplings" Ben muttered, seating himself at the counter beside me, "You've only ordered dumplings... where's the mandarin chicken? Pad Thai? Nope! Just dumplings"

I scowled at the plate of dumplings.

"Sorry, it's on me... I love dumplings... Caleb's just ordered my favourite without asking you" I admitted.

"It's alright, Zia" Caleb stated, putting the bowls down and transferring the soup dumplings carefully into it without spilling any or breaking any apart, "Ben will manage for one meal, can't you, Ben?"

Ben huffed in annoyance and I turned to watch him look away pointedly.

"I'll order some pad Thai right away" I said, then scowled when I realised that I no longer had my phone with me.

"There's no need, Zia" Caleb stated, "These dumplings will go to waste if we don't finish them tonight, and the pad Thai will be excessive, even for us boys"

"If you're sure" I sighed, sad about losing my phone - which had the few memories I'd chosen to keep of my past, but now, I had them no more.

"We're sure" Ben chimed in, scowling at Caleb and I wondered, briefly, if he was ever going to stop glaring at Caleb at all, but then, these thoughts had no place in my mind, so I shook them out, and looked at the dumplings instead,

"Come on, eat" Caleb pushed my plate closer to me, as well as the bowl of soup dumplings.

I picked up one of the soup dumplings on my spoon and looked at it: it looked absolutely delectable! Steam rose from it as I separated the dumpling from its companions, then with my fork I made tiny hole on one side and drank the soup within: heaven would feel this way! Then, I consumed the rest of the dumpling. How gloriously satisfying! Especially after starving for 4 days and a meal of oatmeal.

Capitalists were idiots, was my next sensible thought as I ate a dumpling from the platter.

No words were spoken as we ate the food in front of us. I hummed appreciatively at every delicious morsel that I consumed and I was grateful for this world that had dumplings in it. A world without dumplings would be a wasteland(or a capitalist's dream, if one might so aptly put it.)

"I'm stuffed" Caleb commented, pushing the last of the dumplings towards me.

"Nah-uh... I'm done... I was done three dumplings ago..." I pushed the plate towards Ben, who, by my count, had eaten the least, "This last one has your name on it" I stated. Ben turned his glare at me. I didn't flinch or shy away, now accustomed to his fierce looks, though I had no idea what they meant.

"No, thanks"

"Come on, man, we can't store 1 dumpling in the fridge, it's a waste" Caleb encouraged, "Eat it and we can be done with it now"

"Fuck off" was the reply. I pressed my lips together.

"Caleb, eat it" I said, pushing the plate towards him, "it's one dumpling"

Caleb crossed his arms across his chest defiantly. I sighed, bracing myself as I picked it up and looked at the dumpling that would probably cause me heart-burn, accusatorily. Caleb smiled as if he'd won and removed all the plates before I could put it back down. I scowled at the dumpling.

"No need to glare at your food" Ben said, grabbing my arm and directing it towards his face, where he took the entire dumpling into his mouth, his lips briefly touching my fingertips as he received it, and then immediately licking his lips while making intense eye-contact with me. It felt very intimate, his gesture, his expression, his hold of my arm, which I was yet to withdraw from him, seeing as I was in shock at his actions, as well as the grip he had on my arm.

Caleb cleared his throat pointedly.

"Since you've been fed" he said, watching as Ben withdrew from his arm hold on me, "You can rest. Ben and I will be leaving now"

"I'm not going anywhere" Ben stated, glaring at Caleb. Caleb glared back. I picked up my glass to sip my water tentatively, my eyes darting between the two men, wondering which of them would win.

"You don't think I'll let you stay here with her, unsupervised" Caleb asked in disbelief.

"I don't care what you think" Ben replied, "Last time I let her go alone, she was captured!"

"You can't possibly be trusted to stay with her"

"Who are you to decide that for her anyway?"

Caleb huffed again, right hand reaching up to rub his eyes beneath his glasses tiredly.

"If you're staying, then I'll stay too... to ensure her safety" he concluded, "Who will protect her from you?"

"I'm not the one she needs to be protected from" Ben pointed out.

"Do you both want to share the bed?" I ventured to ask, "I can take the couch since it's smallest"

Two pairs of angry glaring eyes turned to me, as if I was asking the impossible.

"Or else one of you will need to lie on the floor" I concluded, "Decide everything quickly now" I stood up to retrieve blankets to offer them, though they didn't notice as they continued to glare at each other.

Men. I rolled my eyes.

"Shall we go for a stroll, Tofu?" I asked as the feline walked up to me, curiously, rubbing his scent all over my pants as it lacked his scent on me.

"You can't be serious" Ben said, making me look up at him. His glare was ominous.

"It was a joke, though Tofu will need his evening walk later on, if you remember" I reminded.

"One of us will walk her, while the other keeps watch" Caleb assured, "You go rest up"

I nodded and retreated towards the bed.

"You both seem to have it all figured out" I muttered, "So, I'll leave you to it... I'm too exhausted to care about the societal norms"

I retreated to the side of my room that housed my bed and saw that there wasn't anything different about the room, as if Ben had prevented people from coming in here to look for clues or use the room as they desired. That at least, felt like some comfort, though I did need to change the sheets before I could sleep in my bed after being away for so long.

Caleb muttered in the living room briefly as Tofu meowed loudly.

"I'll take your monster cat for a walk" he concluded standing up, "Are you ok?" he enquired. I nodded as I spread the fresh sheet over my bed.

"I'm alright" I assured, "You do as you wish" I added, "For now, and life in general"

"Don't you want to know about your family?" he asked, watching as I spread the bedsheet and went around to tuck it all in the sides.

"I know about my family" I assured him, "Thanks"

"Your sister has a daughter named Zia"

I stopped tucking in the blankets. I think I might've stopped breathing. Ben rushed Caleb, shoving him against the wall, his elbow against Caleb's throat, eyes glaring.

I huffed out a breath, watching them, but I couldn't breathe in. I huffed out another, but couldn't breathe in again. And on the last huff of exhale, I saw the black dots swirling around in my vision, and then, I was out like a light.

I woke up tucked into my bed. I wriggled, attempting to free myself from the blankets that had tucked me in so well, I had no space to move.

"Hn" I winced, eyes flying open. I could breathe now. So, I breathed.

"Let me out" I murmured softly, wriggling against the covers, panic rising once again. Ben appeared from the side, scowling his scowl, then untucking the duvet from the sides of the bed, so I could sit up and not struggle.

"I made him leave" Ben assured, "He's taken the Lord for a walk, though I don't intend to let him back in now"

I nodded, sighing heavily.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse. Ben handed me a bottle of water, after opening the cap for me.

"You passed out," his hand clenched, "Or blacked out... One or the other... scared the life out of me"

His hand was clenched into the duvet, inches from mine, though he didn't dare attempt to reach out to touch me. I let out a breath and breathed in. Somehow, knowing he was here was, in itself, comforting. He could hurt me, but I knew he wouldn't... not knowingly... not anymore.

I reached out and put my hand over his fist.

"Thank you" I murmured softly, "For everything"

It seemed like Ben had been waiting for permission to touch me, and my reaching out to him meant I had given him permission, and he reciprocated by leaning forward and enveloping me in a hug that would constitute a bear-hug, and would crush the bones of lesser beings. To me that hug, its warmth, his strength, all just gave me comfort. Being squeezed so tightly was reassurance that I needed, I could use, and for that I was grateful. I reached around him and patted his back gently, feeling like he might need to be comforted too: he had spent the past 4 days waiting in my apartment because I'd gone missing, after all. And because I figured he was struggling with the way we treated each other after having only just met.

"Don't scare me like that again" he murmured into my neck, still squeezing tight.

"Ok" I agreed, just as quietly. He breathed deeply and released his hold on me, pulling back.

"Zia" he murmured gently, then let out a breath that could constitute a sigh, "You should rest. I'll keep watch from the living room"

I held his hand firmly in mine.

"Will you stay here till I fall asleep?" I asked softly, uncertain if he would care enough to indulge my whims. He frowned deeply and squeezed the hand that I had reached out with.

"Whatever you need" he assured. He stood up and tucked me back into my bed, taking care to ensure all the sides were just a bit snug around me. I wriggled when it felt too limiting, and he untucked a corner so I could reach out with my left hand. He took it into both of his and squeezed it tightly.

"When I couldn't find you that day" he murmured softly when I squeezed his hand back, "I knew I'd messed up. Zia, I never meant to hurt you, you must know that... and I didn't follow you around because I thought you were suspicious" he admitted, "I followed you around because you were like a beacon to me"

I looked up at him, eyelids drooping with exhaustion, but wanting to listen. I squeezed his hand again. He squeezed back.

"When we arrived here... or maybe it was before we arrived here... I was alone... more than I realised... My father had been the man who made my siblings and I feel like rivals, not family, and then, I lost them all... and these people all treated me like I was some God-send because I resembled their long-dead brother... and it didn't help... of course..." he sighed heavily.

"You didn't want to be a replacement for who they had lost" I gathered, "You were your own person"

"Yea... something like that... I was also the person who'd let his own family down, his parents down... who'd let a madman decide what I ought to be... without thinking about the consequences..."

"Whoever you were" I said gently, "Whatever you did... I'm glad it brought you here" 'To me' I didn't say.

"Me too" he replied, "I didn't think I could feel this much about a person I'd just met" I leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, "I'll be here... just rest now... we'll talk tomorrow..."

I nodded, allowing my heavy lids to close shut, as I drifted out of consciousness.