Chapter Text
Pain. Everything hurt. He was drowning in the voices and the pain.
If he were to look up from where he was writhing on the floor, he would see that he had knocked over one of Sage’s potted plants in his desperate attempts to stay afloat. Sorry. But there was pain. pain. Pain. pAIN. PAIN.
A voice fades in and out of existence as he pokes his head above the water.
“-OMEN”
The voice is gone. He drowns again.
But as he drowns, he can think. So, he does. It’d been a while since the last time his body had tried to destroy itself. A couple of months, he thought. That had to be a new streak, right?
Ah. But now someone was dragging him from the depths. It felt like hands.
Speaking of hands, the other day, he overheard one of the voices talking about… what was it? He forgot. Maybe he could do as Sage suggested to him and try meditating. There was a meditation class advertisement somewhere. Maybe he should go. Test the waters, even. Ha. That was funny.
-
“Omen? Omen!” Several voices rang out his name as he thrashed on the floor like a caught fish. From what the group perceived to be his mouth rang a low, guttural noise, not unlike a twisted form of a laugh.
“Woah!” Jett jumped back as one of his shadowy limbs lashed out in her direction. It left behind a dark trail of smoke.
“Go get Viper and Sage-” Whatever was supposed to be the end of that statement, Sova couldn’t finish, as Breach decided it would be a great idea to scream at the top of his lungs.
“OMEN! OMEN WHAT THE FUCK!” As expected, Omen gave no reply.
“Someone hold him down so he doesn’t hurt himself.”
Everyone turned to look at Viper, who had seemingly arrived as quickly as the incoming tides. The two closest to him rushed to comply, albeit with some hesitance from Breach. Harbor, the newest agent, rushed from the other side of the room.
He held the shuddering agent’s arms still. Breach managed not to get kicked while trying to hold his legs down, and Jett, now relieved from her duty, picked up the objects that had fallen from the shelves.
Viper held a heavy piece of metal in her hands. She placed it on Omen’s chest, and suddenly, he went utterly, eerily still.
-
“Omen?”
The world is bright, but not too bright. Like sunlight filtering through water.
He wanted to sit up, but something heavy rested atop his chest and arms. Ah. The “protection” armor that Sabine made. That makes sense. So instead, he slowly opened his eyes, and turned his head towards the source of the noise. Sage sat in an armchair close to where he lay. Where was he, anyways?
“You’re in my clinic. Do you remember anything?” Did he say that out loud?
“You did, dear. I take it you still need some time to rest, but would you like anything to drink?”
“...Yes.”
This time, he was fully aware of the raspy noise that came from his throat. His voice was hoarse, like he had used salt water for mouthwash. Not that he had brushed his teeth anytime recently. Some would consider that a problem. But since when did Omen, one of the protocol’s most intimidating agents, care what others considered a problem? Never. Sage, who had left the room momentarily, returned with what he assumed was tea. She always seemed to give out tea. Cypher drank tea, too. The expensive kind.
She placed it on the nightstand next to him, and a deep sigh escaped her mouth. She contemplated her words before speaking.
“I am worried for you. Today’s… episode. It was a lot more than we are used to handling. If this continues, you could harm yourself.”
She was answered with silence.
“Your state is controlled by your emotions, you know? Has anything been bothering you?”
The shadow shook his head no.
“We need to find a way for you to destress. Your projects don't seem to be enough lately. Have you considered anything other than knitting?”
It was then that Jett poked her head in the clinic, presumably there to grab some trinket or other she left in the room. Sage turned to face the white-haired agent.
“You could get him a cat? Cats are calming.”
And she disappeared, fast as the wind. Sage was still facing towards the door. She seemed to be deep in thought. Finally, she turned back to Omen, who was now sitting up and drinking his tea.
“That might work. Want to give it a shot?”
Omen contemplated the idea for a minute.
“...Sure.”