Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I don't know exactly how to describe it.”

Wordsmith was hurrying through the halls of Watch with a briefcase at his side, and Vyncent was barely able to keep up. It was rare to hear him be at a loss of words, let alone admit to it.

“Lay it on me.” Vyncent lightly shrugged.

“We don't know exactly what it is, or what is happening-” Wordsmith opened a door, ushering Vyncent into a meeting room. 

It was this typical long table, no windows, harsh white lighting and the whirring of electricity that Vyncent was greeted with, and then, additionally, (unfortunately), a familiar face.

DC perked up from where he was sitting, raising his hand in a half-wave, which Wordsmith offhandedly reciprocated. 

“Did you have to drag me here?”

Wordsmith lightly slapped the table, as if he was making a point. “This is… an official meeting. These things have their place.”

DC cleared his throat. His red hair was a little disheveled, and he hoisted one foot up on the chair as his fingers tapped away on the desk. “You've been vague about stuff.”

“Truthfully,” He crossed his arms. “I've been vague because the information we have is vague. But I can try to tell you the gist of it.”

“Gladly,” Vyncent motioned forward, as if to say, the floor is yours.

Wordsmith opened up his briefcase, revealing a laptop and some files. He started the computer, impatiently pushing his nail into the crease of the power button. He was looking over his shoulder, something uneasy about all of his movement.

Vyncent and DC followed to briefly look over their own shoulder, but there was obviously just the closed door. 

Wordsmith slid the file over to the two of them, pointing at the name. He was still staring at the computer screen.

“Read it in the meantime. Tell me what you think.”

And as Vyncent Sol and Dakota Cole opened Unidentified - David Bell - they stumbled upon the strangest case of their short career yet.

Dakota huffed curiously, putting a foot up on the bench between them to tie his sneakers. “Do you know where we could even… start with all this?”

Vyncent was frowning, turned away as he dragged his shirt over his head, his hand reaching for his civilian clothing. The changing room was otherwise empty. Lockers lined the sides, with bright wooden benches in the middle. 

“We run down to the precinct and ask the victim what he remembers.”

Their voices echoed a little. 

Vyncent buckled the belt of his jeans, even though he hated jeans and would never wear them if he didn't have to. His hands ran down his sides to flatten out his shirt and he looked at the back of Dakota's head, who stood quietly in the empty room.

“Wordsmith said he doesn't-”

“We'll get something out of him…” And, a little bit mean-spirited, Vyncent added, “But if you aren’t up for it, we can ask to switch you out with someone else.”

Dakota got up quickly, almost stumbling as he did so. “I’m good.” He was on Vyncent's heels as they left the locker room, breathing in stale air as they left through the basement of Watch. Vyncent fiddled with his key ring, closing the room behind them.

“You don't happen to have a car, do you?”

Dakota wasn't looking at him as he spoke. “I just run everywhere.”

Vyncent raised his eyebrow. “Everywhere?”

“I've got… super speed.” 

“Still.” Vyncent didn't want to actually ask, but going everywhere by superspeed seemed a little counterproductive if he had to work with anyone else. Or if he had to go really long routes. “Do you know how to get to the precinct?”

Dakota has been around at Watch as long as Vyncent, but he was much more active on the field than others. That meant that he probably wasn't as involved in all of the behind the scenes like Vyncent was.

As if to confirm, Dakota looked away, sheepish. “Only vaguely.”

Vyncent stopped at the door, pushing another key in, and the cold air of the underground garage hit them like a gust of wind. “I guess I could take you.” 

“Do you have a car?”

“...Not quite.”

Vyncent's skin prickled angrily, but it was easily overshadowed by the wind rushing past his jacket.

Dakota's arms were wrapped around him, his helmeted head pushing into his back. Vyncent felt stiff as he first left the garage with his motorcycle. Getting out on the road eased him up, since it wasn't a simple or easy feat. 

Almost seamlessly, he moved around cars like a snake on a mission, his gaze set firmly on the street, and Dakota’s hands digging tighter and tighter around his middle. Almost as if he was scared.

“Can you drive slower?” Dakota screamed over the sound of the wind and the traffic.

“I can't hear you.” Vyncent yelled back. His foot pressed down harder on the gas pedal. 

The precinct wasn't very far, and this would only be a short few minutes, so Vyncent had to savor it. Only once he was really getting into it, he saw the building pop up on the side of the road.

He slowed down unhappily, but he knew that if he wanted to, at the end of the day, he could drive around the near empty night city as much as he wanted to.

The precinct was this large cement building that stood out like a sore thumb. It was ugly, big, and really , extremely ugly. There were parking spots in the front for visitors, and he figured that he qualified as one as he squeezed in a spot between two bad parkers.

Because he wasn't used to the extra weight on the back, his motorcycle tilted to the wrong side, Dakota holding on tighter onto his waist- painfully, almost. So Vyncent kicked off, balancing onto the right side.

He kicked out the stand, his head turning to the side to wait.

“...” Dakota was still holding on like his life depended on it. Vyncent cleared his throat. “You can get off.”

“Oh.” Dakota lifted his head off of Vyncent's back. He laughed awkwardly, before getting off in a complicated and inelegant way. Vyncent couldn't even blame him.

With an easy swing of his leg, Vyncent was off as well, and he took his helmet off, storing them in the seat of the motorcycle. “Let's go.”

Dakota's legs were shaking just a little, to his credit. They paced to the entrance, pushing the doors open.

“A day earlier he just wouldn't stop talking, we had to record everything to keep track of his confessions- but now it's like… lights out. No sound.”

Vyncent frowned, and nodded at the guard before walking up to the seat- Dakota deciding to stand next to him before another guard quickly shoved a second chair towards them.

David Bell was supposed to be an innovative CEO. Young yet successful, someone who commanded respect in some regards.

The man sitting in front of Vyncent looked like he hadn't known a good night's sleep since he was born. He was leaning forward, his hair mushed against the glass between them, and his eyes cast down.

“Hello, David.” Vyncent looked at him for any reaction, but the man just slowly blinked, and didn't even twitch. Almost as if he truly didn't hear them walk in. “My name is Virion. I am from Watch and we just want to know a little about the… circumstances of your sudden confession.”

He wasn't moving. Vyncent quickly locked eyes with Dakota, who just shrugged. “This is confidential,” Dakota assured. “We're not here to put you in more trouble.”

“...I've said everything I had to say.”

His voice was incredibly scratchy. Of course Vyncent believed the guard that David was talking for a long time, but from the sounds of it, it felt like hours over hours, half a day-

“Are you sure?”

David didn't say anything. He didn't move to glare at them either. It's like he was only really hearing a few words and ignoring the rest- caught up in his own head. The visitors room was whirring with the noise of the light and it was bouncing off the empty walls, creating this unpleasant silence-

But just before Vyncent could say anything else, David was speaking.

“There's too much-” his head slid down, held up by his hands on his forehead. “It's overcome me, I can't explain- I can just- it's too much, I don't know how…”

Vyncent kept his mouth shut, hoping for something coherent to slip out. But they sat like that for a few minutes. David was saying unfinished sentences, reiterating his confession in this hoarse voice that kept cracking and failing. 

Vyncent leaned away from the microphone as he kept muttering to himself. “He's overwhelmed.”

Dakota's face seemed determined. He leaned forward, and Vyncent let him, hesitantly.

“What made you confess?”

David stopped, and he finally looked up. His eyes were big, his eye bags bigger. He must've not slept well for the past week, by the looks of it. “What made me…?”

“What was the last straw? What was the thing you did before you decided you had to confess?”

David's face twitched weirdly. “This girl died,” He said plainly. “I don't even know her name. Never knew her name. I didn't even need her, I think. And she died.”

“How did she die?”

“She was William's age.” His eyes became glassy. Almost as if the life force was taken out of him, he kept hunched over, his gaze going through Vyncent.

“William?”

“...”

The eerie silence returned.

“Was it the death of the girl that made you confess?”

“...” Nothing.

“Is this the first time someone died under your hands?”

“...”

Complete radio silence.

For the next few minutes, Vyncent and Dakota tried goading him on for an answer, but it was as if he completely checked out.

After ten minutes of nothing, they admitted defeat.

“And physically?” Vyncent asked the guard, muttering dejectedly as they walked towards the door.

“He doesn't sleep much. And he has little to no appetite. But… Everything else seems fine. He's not sick and doesn't have any injuries.” The guard's hand was on the doorknob, but he didn't turn yet. “I guess a guilty man's stomach is already full of regret.”

“Real poetic. And in his confession? Was there any indicator why he decided to turn himself in?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Actually, that thing about the dead girl never came up in his confession.”

“It didn't?”

“At least- maybe we missed it. That's what we have the recording for.” He opened the door, and they both walked into the waiting room. Vyncent immediately noticed a guy that wasn't there before standing up, holding a bag around his shoulder. “We could send you a copy.”

“That'd be great…” His voice was distracted, his eyes set on the person approaching them. He wasn't really looking at them though, instead looking over to the guard, and then the door. The guard off handedly motioned for him to walk inside.

“Hey.” Dakota stopped the guy before he could walk further, and Vyncent held back a sigh. “Are you going to talk to him?”

The man looked completely bewildered at being talked to. He had this sort of gloomy appearance with black hair. 

“Him?” He asked. His head was slightly lowered, and his eyes were jumping between Dakota and Vyncent. Suspicion was an obvious emotion on his face, but Vyncent couldn't blame him for it.

“David Bell.” 

Vyncent stiffened, knowing that this wasn't information they should just give out freely. But the person in front of them didn't seem surprised at the name. Instead he looked just a little more suspicious.

“Why are you asking?”

Dakota twiddled with his thumbs for a moment, giving off an image of uncertainty. “I don't think he's talking much right now. I just wanted to warn you.”

“What's your relation to him?” Vyncent asked.

“I'm his brother.”

A quick up and down of his look didn't give much. He didn't look very similar to David Bell at all. He had a softer face and these almond brown eyes that looked nothing like his brother's. The only trait they really shared was their hair color, but even the shades of black were different. There was almost no resemblance.

“Why are you trying to speak with him? He's being held for some serious crimes.”

This time it was Dakota’s turn to stiffen up, and he held up his hands, almost soothingly. “It must be hard on you-” he quickly added, trying to soften the blow of Vyncent's statement.

“Who's asking?” His eyes narrowed a little more. “I'm not looking to get interrogated today.”

“We're not trying to interrogate you, sorry.” Dakota's hand that was held up, slowly lowered to be offered to him. “My name is Dakota Cole. And you?”

Something about it was very childlike, as if he was meeting another kid on a playground and trying to rope him into a game.

He took his hand. It laid limp in Dakota's palm. “William.”

Vyncent couldn't help raising his eyebrows. He hoped Dakota wasn't making a more obvious expression than him. “William Bell?” 

He looked away, nodding once. “Are you friends of David?”

“No. We're just trying to get a better picture of what happened.”

“...You're some kind of law enforcer?”

“Not directly.”

“Alright.” He didn't look convinced.

“...” Vyncent tried to think of what David told him. It was all so strange, but William's name did drop. “So, what do you think about all this stuff? His confession.”

William looked like he was ready to enter the room, but he stopped at that. “We aren't the closest siblings, but I still don't want to believe that he's that kind of person.”

Vyncent eyed him quickly, noticing only the glaring stare he was sporting. It was hard not to see it. “Do you know where his sudden personality change came from?”

“Personality change?” William finally looked away, staring at the door his brother was behind. “You don't think it's just guilt catching up?”

Dakota pulled his lips into a flat line. “He's shaken. There's something in his eyes…”

“As if he saw something that changed his life.”

William was still looking at the door. Almost as if he had X-ray vision and was seeing beyond it. Maybe he did. There was nothing to be gleaned from his expression. “He apologized to me for the first time in years. When I first visited him here.”

“...”

“You're saying that this personality change came externally?”

“We believe so.”

A bitter smile formed on William's face, one that didn't reach his eyes. “Alright.”

He opened the door.

“If you'd like-” Dakota spoke loudly, and Vyncent could see him reaching out his hand to snag William’s sleeve or something. “You could give us your number.”

“No interrogations.” Vyncent said. “Maybe we could help each other out.”

William hesitated. Neither stepping into the room, nor turning back to them. 

And then, relief filling Vyncent, he turned to them with his phone in his hand. “You give me your numbers.”

Dakota followed Vyncent back to where his motorcycle was parked.

“So… the reason David confessed was because he killed a girl that reminded him of his brother?”

Vyncent played with the visor of his helmet. “His brother is in his 20s. It's hard to believe that this is the first time he's killed someone that age.”

“We don't know.”

Vyncent sighed. He checked his phone, but didn't have any notifications. “Yet. I'll try to listen through the confession.”

“... I have a weird feeling about this case.” Dakota stopped as they arrived at Vyncent's motorcycle. He was rocking left and right, distributing the weight in his legs.

Vyncent obviously did too. It was hard not to feel weirded out by this entire thing. “Do you need a ride home?”

“Nah, I think I know the way back.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Hey, um- I am just thinking, since we'll be working together-”

Vyncent swung his leg on his motorcycle, raising his eyebrow expectantly. Something about the motion made Dakota stop though, and he had this confused glare on his face. “We'll see each other,” Dakota finished, giving him a crooked smile.

“See you.” Vyncent put on his helmet, and briefly waved, before starting his motorcycle and turning around in the parking lot, only giving Dakota a last passing glance.

The confession was way too long to listen to.

No matter what Vyncent did, he just kept getting distracted. It was just an audiofile, so for some moments he didn't have context, David was mumbling and muttering, and was barely legible most of the time. Not to mention that it was multiple hours long, and Vyncent didn't even know what he was looking for.

He slowly rinsed some rice as he listened to the few things he did understand- horrible experiments in the name of public good, described in a way that was just a little too detailed. 

One cup of rice, two cups of water, and then once again- he watched the rice grains sit at the bottom of the pot.

It was strange, but it felt as if Vyncent was listening to two different people at times- sometimes David would break out in this solemn rant about why he did what he did, why he thought it was right, why the end justified the means- and then Vyncent could audibly hear him shudder, fear coating his tongue as he backed down to admit his faults once again.

“I can't sleep anymore since that day,” He said at one point. He had been the only one speaking for a long time, and no one seemed to call this tidbit out either. “I can't even close my eyes anymore.”

But that was the only thing Vyncent got.

Still curious, Vyncent looked up David's name online. 

Since this whole fiasco was so recent, there were only three articles about the confession, and it was easy to find out more information about David before he went haywire.

There was a conference he held, that was recorded and put online, and Vyncent couldn't tell if it was an advertisement for his customers or a video to inform his board about changes- he wasn't paying that much attention- but it was interesting to hear him talk.

He put oil on a pan and transferred the rice, where he flattened it with a spatula. Carefully, as to not mess it up, he cracked two eggs and added them to the rice. He waited as it was cooked a little, adding salt and pepper, oregano, paprika- before he started scrambling everything apart with his spatula.

David was speaking clearly, and he seemed even friendly. Someone Vyncent could see himself having an easy conversation with as they were waiting for a bus, or something. But he still had an impressive way of speaking.

It was obvious that he was a young CEO, someone who had to be really damn convincing to become as successful as he was.

It was making it all the more difficult to believe that this all just happened naturally- staking sin over sin until it crashed, usually didn't happen without someone pushing the tower.

“If I could live in an apartment like this I would just stare at the sky all day.”

Vyncent briefly looked up to Dakota staring out of the large window that made up the entirety of the kitchen and dining area. It was so high up that it almost touched the clouds, and there was an insane view over the city. Dakota turned around, his eyes still big from the sight.

“But I would've thought that a guy as rich as David Bell would have a mansion, not a penthouse.”

“Maybe he has a vacation home.” Vyncent wasn't looking up as he spoke, instead bending down to look closer to the couch in the living room. If there was just one clue they could find to any of this, that would be all he needed.

“Everything was kept as it was?”

“Basically.” The detective was standing by the entrance and leaned back against the wall as if she was thinking harder about it, her arms crossed. “There was, um… one of the windows was wide open, and we closed it so the wind wouldn't blow the evidence away, but that's about it.”

“An open window?”

“Yeah, it was wide open. The entire apartment was ice cold.”

“...What about fingerprints?”

She sighed, her eyes jumping around dejectedly. “As far as we can tell, it's only David and fingerprints from his family. We confirmed with David that his family does visit sometimes, even if it's not much, and they have been here a few weeks ago.”

“Does that include William Bell?”

Her eyes perked up, curiosity and confusion. “You mean William Wisp, right?”

“...”

“His half-brother- as far as I'm aware, he never changed his name.”

It was a weird detail… and Vyncent couldn't help but mentally note it. “There's a doorman-”

“They don't keep a log here- or at least they won't share it with us if they do… Virion, look, these are some ultrarich people that live here. They've got plenty of shady stuff going on that they'd want to hide.”

Now that ended up being David's downfall. He sighed, looking back at the apartment.

“So basically, there's nothing.”

She smiled unhappily, shrugging lightly. 

The sun was relentless, but couldn't beat down at them in the shade of a large tree. They sat on a bench together, Dakota with his feet up in a squat, both having small paper bags of churros with chocolate sauce in their hands.

Vyncent was thoughtfully chewing on his, while Dakota was eating much faster than he should. 

“This entire thing is just weird.” He pierced the churro with the wooden stick he got, and watched it as he dipped it in the chocolate. He lifted it to his mouth. “David is clearly omitting something.”

He bit into the soft pastry, the melting chocolate giving him a sugary shock before he evened it out with the savory taste. He closed his eyes for a minute, and in any other situation he'd be able to enjoy how beautiful the day was and how good the food tasted in the sun.

“Do you really think so?” Dakota was halfway done with his bag. He had chocolate on the corners of his mouth that he shyly wiped away as Vyncent pointed it out. “As weird as this whole thing is, isn't it possible that he truly just felt like he crossed a line? Maybe he really does just feel guilty.”

“...Then he wouldn't be so cagey.” He gripped the paper bag a little tighter, sliding down the backrest of the bench. His legs were stretched out far. “Maybe it's blackmail?”

“But what could be even worse than all of the stuff he confessed?”

“Drug use? He had an epiphany after a bad trip?”

“...his house was clean.” Dakota huffed, wrapping his arms around his knees. “And the cell guard said that he was physically healthy. I think they would've noticed…”

“We don't know.”

“I guess we don't.” Dakota was biting his lip before he spoke again, his eyes jumping away from whatever they were looking at. “I've seen it before, when people get-”

Vyncent's phone vibrated. Dakota stopped abruptly, watching him take his phone out. Even though he was still listening, Dakota didn't finish his sentence. Before Vyncent could ask him to continue, he caught a glimpse of the notification.

He was staring at his phone. Dakota didn't want to make it obvious that he was trying to glance at the screen, but when Vyncent didn't start typing or putting it away, he got curious.

“What is it?”

It's William, the message said, I'm willing to talk, if you need me to.

Despite Dakota offering to come with, Vyncent showed up a few days later at the coffee shop alone. 

It had less to do with the fact that Vyncent just liked doing things alone, less with the fact that being around Dakota brought out something in him that he didn't care to think about, and more so that he thought William might tell him more if he didn't feel cornered.

He waited outside, an umbrella over his head as the light rain hit it with a pitter-patter. He watched the water run down a drain by the side of the road, and prayed that it would let off by the time he had to get back home.

He heard light music coming from inside the cafe, something slow and rhythmic, and his foot tapped along to it. His eyes ran along the power lines, the few trees swinging lightly in the wind-

And stepping back when a car stopped at the side of the road.

William arrived with what might've been an Uber. He closed the door and quickly sped over to the entrance, holding a hand over his head as if it would keep the rain from hitting him. Vyncent held out his umbrella, and William quickly stood under it. There was a leather bag slung over his shoulder, and he wiped the raindrops off of it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Vyncent shrugged and opened the door for William, shaking out his umbrella before he stepped inside.

Vyncent sliced his small fork through the mousse chocolate cake slice, impaling it before lifting it up to his nose. It expelled a smell like chocolate pudding, and he kept the fork a little longer in his mouth as he tasted it. He washed it down with a sip from his black coffee, silently appreciating the strength of it.

“It's been a few days since this all happened.” William looked down at his own plate- fingers slowly ripping a croissant apart, revealing orange apricot jam inside of it. He just looked at the torn pieces, but didn't eat a single bite. “I was just wondering if anything came to light.”

“...I don't think there's anything I can tell you.”

“In which sense?” He looked up, his fingers hooking around the glass mug he got- bright orange-brown swirling around, ice cubes floating and clinking against each other as he lifted it to his lips. “You can't tell me because it's confidential, or because you didn't find anything?”

“...” Vyncent gave him this crooked smile. “No matter which, I can't tell.”

William closed his eyes as he took a long sip of his iced coffee. Vyncent entertained himself with the soft chocolate cake. “I guess I'll be open to talk. I just… if something comes out that you can share, I want to be the first one to hear it.”

“Of course.” Vyncent could definitely do that. “Are you and David close?”

“No,” The reply came quickly. “We barely see each other.”

“Have you seen him recently? …Before the visitor's room, I mean.”

“Not really, no.” He wrapped his hands around the mug, slowly sipping at it. He finally ate a piece of the crudely torn croissant.

Vyncent's eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

William looked up at him. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth hidden behind his cup. “Why?”

“Hasn't your family recently visited him?”

“Ah.” He took another sip. Leisurely. “A few weeks ago. Yes.”

“And you too?”

“For a short time.”

“What was David like?”

He sighed, putting down his cup. He picked up a croissant piece with his index and thumb, delicately as if he didn't want to get any sticky powdered sugar on his hands. He held it up, opting to stare at it wearily. “Like always. He's always a little bossy, in that older sibling way. But we're guests, and he knows how to treat guests… he was completely normal.”

“Nothing weird? There wasn't anything at all that made you stop and think?”

“Like I said.” He popped the croissant piece in his mouth, chewing slowly. His fingers that held it up were rubbing against each other, trying to get rid of the feeling. “I was only there for a short time.”

“Okay.” He folded his elbows onto the table, leaning forward. “Let me just ask a little generally then. It's just, it's a strange case. I want to explore any possibilities. Like… someone being involved. Is there anyone…?”

“Anyone who holds resentment against my brother? Obviously. More than I can count.” William was eating freely now, his eyes barely meeting Vyncent's, but not in a nervous way- more like he couldn't bother to look at him. “He's a famous and successful CEO- you could probably find his competitors online.” 

“Do you believe this might be the case?”

He cleaned a little jam off his thumb with a napkin. “No. Not really.”

“Why not?”

“I just don't.” 

“Do you think blackmail could've been involved?”

“Blackmail that isn't his crimes he confessed?”

“Alright, then- is it possible that he might've taken any drugs? Anything he might've been addicted to?”

“Never.”

Vyncent tilted his head. “I mean, you said he's a famous and rich CEO. It's not unusual in that scene…”

“Not how our mother raised us. I think I could tell if he was acting differently. And he wasn't- since getting rich, he just got a little snobby, is all. Less than one would expect.”

“Okay. I understand.”

They sat in silence for a little bit. Vyncent ate another bite of his cake, getting him halfway through, with another, bigger sip of his coffee. It burned bitter on his tongue, and he could feel one of the Greats in him complaining- it brought something irrational into his chest that he had to push away. They didn't have coffee like this on Fauna. 

“One last thing.” Vyncent watched William eat another piece, and slowly stir a spoon in his drink. “You're sure that you haven't visited David recently? Even more recently than you and your parents?”

William was avoiding eye contact. Vyncent couldn't help but notice his nervous finger tapping against the cup, his eyes wandering around the wall behind him. “Is there a reason you're asking?”

“...” Vyncent held a taut breath, staring at William. He deflated with a sigh. “David… mentioned you. When we talked to him. He didn't mention your parents.”

William closed his eyes for a moment, nodding slowly. “My brother is the only one with this weird… personality change?”

“As far as we know.”

“Okay.” He nodded again, putting his cup down. His hand laid flat on the table. “Okay. I think- I was there. A few days before he confessed everything. I'm worried it might've been my fault, its- it's been eating me up from the inside.”

Vyncent leaned closer. His eyes were stuck on William, his ears straining. “Yes?”

“I confronted him… I found out about one of the things he did. I thought it was terrible, but nothing I couldn't forgive. I asked him to apologize publicly. At the time he wasn't receptive but… but maybe I pushed him over the edge. I don't know.”

A frown formed on Vyncent's face. It was a little disappointing. “Ah.”

“I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason…”

“But it's a good thing.” Vyncent tried speaking succinctly. “He did bad things, and he needs to do his time for them. If he feels bad for bad things- that's good.”

“He's beside himself. He's- not himself anymore.” William glared at him. “I want my brother, not some apologetic criminal.”

“You want a cocky criminal?”

“Vyncent,” he sighed. His angry expression evened out. “You don't get it.”

“I don't.” After a pause, tapping on the table, he looked back at William. “I don't think it's your fault.”

William was silent. His teeth looked like they were gritted shut.

“Do you have a way of going home?”

William pulled out a pack of smokes, and called a waitress over with a raised hand. “I'm fine.”

Vyncent stared at the package of cigarettes. “Your mother didn't raise you that way, but you still smoke?” He raised an eyebrow.

William, who seemed sad and strewn out a moment ago, had this sardonic smile on his face. Almost smug. “She doesn't need to know.” He pulled out his wallet, smiling at the waitress as he told her what he had to eat and drink. His card laid on the card reader, and William barely looked at it. “It's a bad habit. Who cares.”

Vyncent pulled out his card and did the same as William slung his bag over his shoulder, and put the cigarette between his lips. His thumb was running over a lighter that he seemingly pulled out of his pocket.

“See you, Vyncent.” The cigarette was hanging off the corner of his lip, somehow holding on. Vyncent could only turn and watch him leave, his payment still getting processed.

He gave the waitress an awkward smile, sitting there a moment longer before also packing up.

There wasn't much left to do, without real leads.

Dakota entertained the idea of something circumstantial, but nothing that had to do with the influence of another person- and it led Vyncent down to thinking about environmental factors. Testing the water at David's apartment, carbon monoxide poisoning, the food in Belltech, the state of other employees, the state of the people living in the same apartment complex…

It was ridiculous how perfectly fine everything was.

So, officially, Vyncent and Dakota were still on the case. If anything came up, they'd be the first to deal with it. But the case was dropped. It was a complete dead end at every corner.

Vyncent was partly happy about that, finding comfort in the old routine of going on patrols, coming home, eating something nice- alone. But it was bugging him. He felt himself gritting his teeth at times, thinking the case over and over but not finding anything new, before he snapped himself out of it.

On a slow morning, he was cutting a banana into small pieces, before moving on onto an apple. He had some quiet music on, humming along as he worked, and for once, he felt like the case wasn't invading his brain randomly. 

He dropped the fruit into a bowl with Greek yogurt, and stirred it around, until it all looked nice and pleasant. With a small spoon, he ate a bite of yogurt with an apple, his eyes closing in contentment. 

His music quieted down as he got a notification, and he knew that he only had a handful of contacts that he allowed to make noise on his phone- something that Wordsmith helped him set up, since he could've never done it on his own- and the disdain built in him immediately. He set his bowl of yogurt down.

It was his free day but technically it wasn't. He was working on call.

I need you and DC to come here. Wordsmith attached a location, which seemed to be on the other side of the city. I don't have concrete proof, but it feels similar to the Bell case. A strange suicide case.

Vyncent, holding his spoon in his mouth, looked up where Wordsmith was sending him. He slowly tilted his head.

Blackwood Tech.

He hummed. The name wasn't familiar.

Chapter Text

Exploring the office of someone who recently offed themselves didn't really affect Vyncent until he was standing inside of it.

The man who led them to it – Tobias, an employee of Blackwood Tech – was leaning against the doorframe, casually checking his nails. “This is where I found him.”

“Thanks.” Dakota was staring at him with earnest and big eyes. Vyncent almost felt a need to thank him too, but he just cleared his throat and stepped a little further into the office.

It was fairly standard. A little more high-end than Vyncent was expecting, and more traditional fancy instead of the minimalism that most rich people seemed to go for nowadays. The desk was massive, orange wood standing out in the middle of the room, with an intricate rug folding over wood paneling. Wainscoted walls, beautifully aligned wallpaper…

“I'd love to have an office like that.” Vyncent mumbled quietly. Dakota went over to the desk, not touching anything, but letting his gaze sweep over it.

“Imagine the dust.”

His face pulled into a grimace. Right… it'd be hard to keep clean. 

It was strange to see this office in a way where it looked like the person manning it just left for a short bathroom break and was just about to come back… but Vyncent certainly had seen more disturbing things.

“Let's just… try to find something.”

There was no solid evidence that the Bell case and this one were connected in any way, but the absurdness of both of them already made them suspect that there was some kind of connection. His gaze was sweeping over the bookshelf, curious to see what a person like this would read, but there wasn't anything that Vyncent could even vaguely recognize. He went over every single one, trying to see if there was anything – a secret letter sticking out, something that might indicate a suicide note, but all he could see were stray bookmarks. At least he was actually reading his books, by the looks of it.

“You kill yourself and leave nothing behind…”

“I honestly doubt it.” Dakota was climbing underneath the table, and when he came up, there was a little dust stuck in his hair. “Maybe- maybe he sent someone a message, like his mom or something!”

“Once they get into his accounts we’ll know.” But it was still strange. Based on how he decorated his office, he seemed to be the more traditional type, and definitely the type that would write a good old suicide note. Anything to indicate why a man like him – out of nowhere - would decide to end it all.

“If it even was a suicide.”

Dakota hummed. “Help me lift the rug.”

All they did was swirl up a bunch of dust that made both of them cough.

Vyncent was looking around for a long time, but there wasn't really anything of use that he could find. There was a notepad, but it clearly wasn't the same that a suicide note was drafted on, with no indents to show it's use. But…

He walked up to the window, tugging at the curtain. And behind it, on the floor – almost like it was purposefully hidden – was a scrap of paper. 

Vyncent kneeled down, inspecting it carefully. It wasn't just a scrap, it was a burned scrap. Part of whatever was written on it was still visible, but nothing to actually make out something. “Get me a plastic bag, please.”

Dakota was at his side within seconds, handing him the plastic bag and a metal pair of tongs to pick it up with. “What'd you find?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

Dakota was hovering over his shoulder as he pushed the ziplock close. “Burnt paper.”

“It's out of place, isn't it?” He handed it over, hands on his knees as he stood back up. He looked over at Tobias who still seemed completely uninterested, leaning his head against the doorframe and staring at the gaudy oil painting across from him. His eyes flickered to his wristwatch.

Vyncent lowered his voice just a little. “Do you think you can send that to the lab? Maybe they can decipher what used to be on it…” 

Dakota briefly held up the ziplock, before putting it in his pocket. It was at least one thing they could take with them. Just maybe something to set their sights towards.

“We're done,” Vyncent nodded at Tobias.

He perked up with this pleasant smile, holding his arm out to the exit. He turned off the light and closed the door, slowly leading them to the elevators. “Well, I hope you find what you're looking for.”

“...What do you think? Was it a suicide?” Dakota pressed the button and the doors slid open, and they all filed inside.

“That's what the coroners said, isn't it? I guess I'm inclined to believe them.”

There was silence between them, as the elevator descended. Dakota leaned against a wall.

“So… his name was Overlord, and he was your boss?” 

Tobias smiled lightly, in this incredibly charming way, and tilted his head. “I guess it kind of commands power, doesn't it?”

In that regard, it was true. Even if it was still an incredibly strange name. 

“I guess so.”

“So,” William was stirring the thick noodles with his chopsticks, staring as it moved like a slow whirlpool in his bowl. “Is there any lead? Anything?”

Vyncent wasn't touching his food. In fact, he didn't feel hungry at all. And while this was usually his favorite spot - it reminded him of the food back at home - he was holding his face and sighing wearily. “Nothing of value.” Nothing he could share with a civilian anyway. “How's it going on your front?”

“I think you have more resources than me. I can't do anything with my hands tied to the law.”

“I'm also tied to the law.”

He scoffed. “Barely.”

“Do you know how much paperwork goes into everything I have to do?” 

Even if it wasn't Vyncent himself who did the paperwork… even if he only really had to sign off at the end to approve it – but it was still a lot.

“See?” William pointed the chopsticks at him. “You can get away with everything through paperwork. I'd have to post bail or do my time.”

“Fair enough.” Even through his lack of hunger, Vyncent took his own chopsticks and listlessly picked up some noodles and let them drop down. Almost as if to avoid eye contact with William, he dipped it into the broth and tasted it off the tip of the chopsticks. It was salty, it was good for sure – as if giving up, he strung the noodles around and dipped them into the broth before eating them. They were still hot, on that border where it was slightly painful but possible to eat. 

When he finally did look up, William was staring at him blankly, this almost penetrating glare that made Vyncent falter, and look back down on his noodles.

He was barely someone that would catch Vyncent's attention. 

He wasn't very strong nor daring. He was smart, sure, but not the kind of smart that could build machines of mass destruction. Yet still…

For once Vyncent felt strangely stripped of his aloofness – for once he felt like he used to when he was 16 and before landing in a world so much unlike his own. Here, subjected to William's stare.

Alphonse was in there, roaring deep in his chest, in a motion that Vyncent already knew to be disappointment at Vyncent's meekness – and then there was Min, cooing something completely different. Vyncent knew he must've been making strange expressions at the clash of emotions that flooded his body, because William opened and closed his mouth, but instead-

“Do you have superpowers?” He blurted out, accidentally spitting a little. He quickly wiped over the spot on the table, hoping that William didn't see, but the way his eyes followed his movement just told him that he saw everything.

“No. And I'm happy for it.” William still hadn't eaten a bite, but the hunger was finally stirring in Vyncent's stomach so he didn't care much about it as he ate. “This isn't a very relevant question.”

“Just curious.”

William lowered himself to his bowl, keeping his eyes on Vyncent. Just as he ate he finally looked away, eating a little more gracefully than Vyncent. “Professionally or privately?”

Vyncent shrugged. “Maybe professionally.” 

“Maybe?”

“I don't know.” Vyncent chose not to look up at William anymore. “If you are deciding to investigate this on your own, and you happen to run into trouble - maybe it's easier to know more than less.”

“Alright.” He ate silently. Vyncent followed. “Do you have powers?”

“Not in the normal sense, no.” Just at the mere thought of the Greats, his finger began to twitch as if to pull a trigger or something, but he swallowed that pull from within and mostly still there, he talked on. “But I'm not completely harmless.”

“Why did you choose to become a hero?” William asked, more or less ignoring his reply.

“...” Vyncent dragged his arm on the table as he set his elbow down. He looked around the room, away. “...To save people-”

“No.”

“No?”

William snorted and he set his chopsticks down a little too loudly. He looked down at them briefly as if he felt shy all of a sudden, but he talked with that same humor in his voice. “You didn't become a hero to save people. You don't care about people.”

“I do.” 

“Maybe you do. But not enough to choose an entire lifestyle for them.”

Vyncent cleared his throat, and he didn't know why he was turning red. Maybe it was out of anger, but the way his lip quivered exposed the quiet shame in his chest. “You don't know me.”

“And it's still so obvious.” William picked up his chopsticks again, and now he seemed to feel sheepish at his outburst. “It's… it's obvious.”

“What other reason would a person have to become a hero?”

“Money. Fame. Adoration. I'm sure you have some colleagues who have their own reasons.”

“Do I strike you as a person who wants fame… money?”

“No.” He was chewing quietly before replying. “That's why I'm so confused.”

Vyncent knew he wasn't the heroic person that people expect from someone in his career. He knew he wasn't the biggest fan of fame. The money was nice, but only because it's a requirement on Prime to earn well. All things considered, Vyncent lived very frugally.

The truth was, Vyncent never chose to become a hero. He just suddenly was. And then… what then? There was nothing else he was really all that good at, so this gig was his best shot until he figured out a way to get back home.

Even though that mission has been taking the backseat for the last few years.

“Your red haired friend for example. What's his deal?”

Vyncent scoffed. “His deal is that he thinks he can save every person on this planet and then some.”

“Seems noble.”

“Seems stupid.”

William smiled slightly. “Yeah. I'm not a big fan of those holy halo types.”

“He's just… a lot.” 

He didn't listen to Vyncent. He was naive, he didn't have the right priorities. He was loud, he was all up in Vyncent's space, and he was so direct. Vyncent was also direct but it was different. He didn't really know why. It wasn't like he ever personally did something against Vyncent either.

“And you?” He asked, after a tense silence. “You don't seem to be too fond of heroes.”

“It's nothing personal.” William wiped the oil off his lips with a napkin. When he talked, he was a little absent-minded, but Vyncent digressed – there was a lot to think about for him. “I think it’s ridiculous that people that already won the lottery when it comes to life get to parade around and show off at every second they get. Nothing more.”

“I don’t really feel like a winner…” Vyncent mumbled.

“Well, you don’t really seem like a hero.”

Vyncent snorted. It didn’t sound like a compliment, but from someone like William it was bound to be one. He certainly was intelligent, he had something that Vyncent thought he was probably lacking. Maybe a much better, fundamental understanding of the world. Maybe Vyncent just didn’t think as logically as others. 

He didn’t really know why Wordsmith assigned him and Dakota with this case – it was certainly a lot of thinking for two guys that usually had to come up with solutions within seconds on the battlefield. Not the strange, maybe power-related ability to turn CEO’s into guilt-ridden prisoners.

“Alright, um.” Vyncent stirred his soup. Maybe there was less to lose than he thought. “There is something new, actually.”

William perked up. Not too much where he'd be entirely surprised, like he almost expected Vyncent to go there. “And you'll tell me?”

“I don't know.” There was definitely stuff that will be released to the public. Maybe. But he didn't know how much and which details. “A man killed himself. A CEO of a big company. He was sort of shadowing it, and there was another official guy in his place. There was no confession or suicide note or anything but I just- I feel like it's connected.”

“Why?” His chopstick was on his bottom lip, drilling slightly into his skin. “It seems like very different cases. Both CEOs, sure, but one with a confession in jail and one with a suicide.”

“It's a gut feeling. And I feel like there's things that were… hidden.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Like the guy- we were led around by a guy, and he was just so nonchalant about his boss killing himself. He didn't do or say anything strange but he's just. Suspicious. I think he's hiding something.”

“Hiding like… maybe a suicide note?” William deadpanned.

Vyncent pressed his lips together. “Why would he?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. But I can imagine that – if he’s a stand-in for that CEO, maybe he knew something bad. Maybe there was something written about him in that suicide note.”

“...”

“But. I don’t know the circumstances…?”

He almost said it like he expected Vyncent to tell him more. Vyncent closed his eyes and tried not to laugh at his curiosity. But it certainly was a point he’d be willing to make to Wordsmith. They’d have to have proper suspicion of Tobias to actually do a search, and Vyncent certainly didn’t know the rules around it, and if that Tobias guy turned out completely innocent in the end, that’d be really embarrassing-

“You know what-” Vyncent balanced his chopsticks on top of his bowl, slowly bringing out his wallet as he waved at a waiter. “I’ll bring it up to my boss after my weekend.”

“You get weekends?”

They both politely laughed.

Vyncent’s weekend was entirely and absolutely calm. 

He spent most of it preparing some food for the next week, something he usually never did – but he felt so at peace that it somehow just came naturally. He did his laundry, cleaned his kitchen deeper than usual, vacuumed-

It was only on Sunday evening, eyeing the mop behind his kitchen door as if he might even mop the floor for once, that he got a message that sort of ruined everything.

Something crazy just happened was the only message Vyncent got before he was told to get to the precinct ASAP. 

As he was speeding there, he was going through the thoughts – maybe a big attack with too many casualties, maybe another case related to the Bell and Overlord one, or maybe someone just bought a life-time supply of doughnuts or something, it could literally be anything.

But it was the only warning he got – before he was casually told that Tobias suddenly turned up at the police station, with a simple confession – tampering with evidence.

“He handed us the suicide note.” Wordsmith waved a paper around, something that obviously turned out to be a simple copy instead of an original. “The details of it were… I mean, it was more a crime confession than a suicide note. Everything containing it seemed to be true, so far as we could look into it. It is horrifying.”

“Why would he want to hide it away?”

“Vyncent,” Wordsmith laughed humorlessly. “Why wouldn't he? This would ruin his entire company.”

“...” Vyncent watched it wave back and forth. “Summarize?”

Wordsmith straightened the paper, holding it between his fingers as if he was going to read it. Instead his eyes barely glided over it. 

“Confessions of horrifying experiments, including that stuff with Harttawa island we found out last year- robberies, murders, employing people who'd do his bidding and keeping them around with blackmail or the threat of poverty… it's a lot, Vyncent.”

“Does it say anything about Tobias?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it possible to talk to him?”

Wordsmith took a step backwards, holding out his arms. “The floor is all yours.”

Vyncent just nodded once, glancing at the note once, for a short moment- containing a beautifully small cursive print that he could barely read. He shook his head and entered the interrogation room.

Tobias was sitting there, staring blankly at his hands cuffed to the table. Vyncent closed the door, silently asking for the guard by it to step outside- as far as they knew, Tobias didn't have any particular superpowers, had not tried to escape, and was sitting idly. The guard agreed just as silently, giving Vyncent a thumbs up before leaving.

…Just anything to make him more likely to talk.

The door closed, and Vyncent looked at his side where he knew the one sided mirror was- he knew that Wordsmith was watching him, along with that guard that stepped out, and most likely others- but he only spared them a glance, looking back at Tobias.

He barely moved at Vyncent's entrance. Or, not barely. He didn't move at all.

It only became more obvious that he was completely zoned out as Vyncent pulled out the chair across from him, sitting down and leaning forward a little bit.

“Tobias?”

He blinked. It was a small reaction.

His face was turned downwards, and not entirely visible, but Vyncent could tell that he looked rough. Before, he had this very pleasant, well taken care of expression. His skin had looked entirely unblemished, and even when he wasn't smiling, he had looked friendly.

Right now, his skin was oily with a few scratches- likely a nervous habit that he picked up on, based on the way his hands started to slowly pick on each other's cuticles. Eye bags, chapped, bitten lips.

“Tobias, how are you?”

His eyes finally flickered up. Bloodshot- red. “Tired.”

“...Did they offer you to rest?”

“I can't. Sleep.” He buried his face in his hands. “I can't sleep anymore.”

“Tobias.” Vyncent wanted to reach out, but he was sure that it wouldn't bring anything positive. He kept his hands by himself. “Why did you decide to give us the suicide note?”

“Why not.”

“Given the fact that you went out of your way to hide it first…” Vyncent could tell that this wasn't the same man he met back in that office. Physically, sure- but something changed. “Did someone threaten you to?”

Tobias’ eyes glazed over. He hummed, although it didn't seem to mean anything. “It was bad what we did, y'know?”

“Yeah…”

“And my boss killed himself over it.” He wasn't entirely there. “It was… an inconvenience. Would you be sad if your boss killed himself?”

Sad wasn't the first word on his mind, but if Wordsmith killed himself, he'd sure feel as though it was more than just an inconvenience.

And then as he thought about it - yeah. He'd feel sad. Or, upset would be the best way to describe it. Maybe even just for selfish reasons. 

But Vyncent didn't reply to that question. Tobias didn't expect him to.

“My case may be dropped.” Tobias was drawing his finger across the table. “Or drastically reduced. I had a lawyer come in to tell me to keep quiet. I did tamper with evidence, but nobody was harmed from it directly. And most importantly, I came here to willingly bring the evidence back. It could be a good, quick case for me.”

“That's good, Tobias. I don't think you deserve a lot of prison time. I think you acted out of desperation.” Vyncent was talking out of his ass. He didn't think a single thing before he stepped into the room. “Your livelihood was on the line in your mind. I'm sure the jury can sympathise.”

“...” He hummed. “I didn't catch your name?”

“Virion.” He held out his hand.

Tobias took it, but not in a handshake. He held his fingers, something a lot more dainty, and it was a touch that was too friendly for strangers. Still, Vyncent let him press the cusps of his fingers against his palm. 

“It was nice to get to know you.” He dragged his touch along his hand as Vyncent reeled it back. “Virion.”

His phone was ringing.

It was 4AM and his phone was ringing.

Vyncent dragged a hand over his face, blinking hard to get the burning out of his eyes- and with a sigh, he picked up the phone. 

“Uhu?” He licked his lips, and cleared his throat. “What's up.”

“Vyncent.” Wordsmith’s voice on the other side was grave, and Vyncent braced for some kind of lecture. Instead, he got a pensive silence, before he spoke again. “Tobias killed himself.”

Vyncent sat up, his blanket falling off his chest. “What? How!”

“We're trying to figure it out, we think he may-”

“Stop.” Vyncent closed his eyes, and swallowed. While he sat there, his hand held up as if Wordsmith could see his gesture, he almost fell asleep again- but then, the racing of his heart kept him awake. “I'm coming in. Call Dakota too. I hate doing this over call.”

“Vyncent…”

“You know I can't pay attention over the phone. See you in 20.”

Vyncent could change in about 20 seconds if he knew what to wear- and there were his clothes from the previous day, laying conveniently on the floor. He grabbed an apple from the kitchen as he put on his shoes, and managed to eat it down to the core before he reached his motorcycle.

His jacket flapped in the wind as he started up, and he knew he'd be there just in time. This was the best time to drive, just before the early workers were up, and just after most party goers have left, he didn't encounter more than a handful of cars on his way through the dark streets. 

He knew in an hour the sky would start lighting up, and his alarm would ring for him to actually get to work, and traffic wouldn't be terrible but it would be a little packed. So he appreciated this, the empty streets, the breeze flowing past him, his mind clearing as he drove. He had to-

Tobias killed himself rang in his head everytime it drifted to other thoughts. Just a few days ago he was there, alive, in front of Vyncent and- well, he wasn't a blabbermouth, but he was certainly speaking to Vyncent. He sat there and asked him what he would feel if his boss suddenly killed himself. And now, even with a man Vyncent barely knew, he felt… off. Maybe it was the fact that it was all coming together to cause such a strange case, with David, Overlord and now Tobias.

He didn't even know any details. He swallowed, trying to ignore the insects clinging to his visor.

Maybe he'll be there before Dakota.

“How could this happen?”

Dakota was carrying a cup of coffee to Wordsmith and Vyncent, the former looking extremely exhausted. It wasn't just the hour, Vyncent knew that. He saw Wordsmith take all-nighters and look just as he always did. This was that kind of stress exhaustion that would always show.

Vyncent was still wondering how Dakota was faster than Vyncent, even though he probably left later. He looked at the milk swirling in his coffee and scrunched his nose, still taking a swig. It had a gratuitous amount of sugar, and Vyncent could swear he could feel the little sugar crystals between his teeth next to the bitter coffee.

“It's bizarre.” Wordsmith rubbed his face, his eyes distant, as if he were searching for the explanation somewhere else. “We might have missed some… power within Tobias. Footage shows that over multiple hours, the guards casually uncuffed him, left a weapon on the table and eventually… just left. Tobias was talking to them. The guards recall everything clearly, but to them it seemed like a-” Wordsmith raised an eyebrow. Some of that exhaustion ebbed away to show annoyance. “Like a good idea.”

“Huh.”

“Huh Indeed, Vyncent. And now we lost another piece of this whole strange case.”

Silence filled the room as Vyncent and Wordsmith were drinking their respective coffees, and Dakota paced up and down. He looked as if he was thinking hard, but in the end it was Vyncent who broke the silence with his own idea.

“I don't have any basis for anything but… could Tobias be behind the cases?”

Wordsmith stopped. “...What are you thinking?”

“I don't know how it works – he seems to have some kind of power. I guess we'll never know but- maybe it kind of makes suggestions seem a lot more favorable? He made those guards leave with their weapons on the table. Confess your crimes and kill yourself, could maybe be… doable.”

Dakota stopped. “And he was very close to Overlord, he'd know about the stuff he did, probably. They're close in that way.”

Wordsmith held his chin in thought. “I guess it's just circumstantial evidence. David Bell doesn't really fit here, though.”

“Maybe- maybe David was a genuine case! And Tobias felt inspired by it, maybe he finally felt like he could change something!” Dakota was fired up now, Vyncent could tell. But Vyncent was fired up too – maybe desperate to defend his own idea.

Wordsmith pinched his nose. “Okay then. What about the suicide note? Why would he want to hide it, if that was his entire plan?”

Neither Vyncent or Dakota had an immediate answer to it. They thought for a minute.

“Well. Maybe he had to look it over.”

“Maybe he was the one who wrote it.”

“Could be anything, really.”

The both of them shrugged in sync. Wordsmith made a face like he was less and less convinced of the idea.

“How about this? We investigate this case, and if nothing else comes up, and no other strange suicide or confession turns up, we'll take it as the official explanation.”

Vyncent and Dakota exchanged quick looks. Dakota was grinning and Vyncent couldn't help the corner of his lip twitching.

“Deal.”

Dakota was walking next to Vyncent as they were leaving the building. “The more I think about it, the more I want your idea to be true.”

Vyncent sighed, nodding enthusiastically. “Me too.” Usually he made himself breakfast around this time… “I'm kind of hungry.”

“We could go to the cafeteria?”

His face pulled into a grimace. The food there was… edible. Sort of bland, and it looked unappetizing.

“There's a bakery with a really good French toast nearby.”

Dakota perked up. “Is it open at this time?”

“Uh-” Good question. “I think it opens at 5.” Looking at his phone showed that it was almost time.

“It's a little awkward to come in right as it opens, right?”

Vyncent frowned and nodded. “We could go for a little drive?” 

That's how Dakota ended up back on his motorcycle, as they were driving without much of a destination. The streets were still mostly empty.

“How did you end up at work before me?” Vyncent yelled over the wind as they were hitting 70 mph on a wide street.

“I have superspeed, dude!”

“I know, I know but…” Vyncent looked off to his side, spotting a large empty parking lot. He turned into it. “You can't be that fast.” He mumbled mostly to himself. 

“What are we doing?”

Vyncent slowly came to a stop. He flicked up his visor. “I wanna see how fast you can get.”

Dakota took off his helmet, grinning widely. “You wanna race me?” He stumbled off, hopping on one leg until he regained balance.

Vyncent just revved his bike in response. “Let's go all the way up there, just until the last light pole.”

Dakota went into running position. Vyncent tilted forward, his foot on the pedal.

“You're on.”

The bakery was a nice reward after a whole lot of nonsense.

“I'm not faster than a race car.” There was a scoop of ice cream on both of their french toasts, and Dakota flattened it with his fork, spreading it over the sweet as if it was butter. “I know that. And maybe if we were going a longer distance your bike would actually get to speed up enough to surpass me. But for now I'll see myself as a winner.”

“I wasn't competing,” Vyncent grumbled, cutting a piece of his toast. “I just- wanted to know how fast you get.”

Dakota grinned. He took a sip of his hot chocolate, and the smell wafted over to Vyncent. He hadn't had a hot chocolate in ages. Instead he was sitting here with a – he glanced at the menu again – chai latte. Dakota ordered it for him, because he said he should try something new. There was cinnamon on his toast, and there was cinnamon in his drink, and it somehow came together so nicely that he didn't even complain to Dakota about the coffee.

They were almost acting like real colleagues, sitting together in a café and goofing off. But Vyncent was just passing time- going out to eat.

“What are you frowning about?” Dakota asked.

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” He leaned forward. “What's up?” 

Vyncent sighed. Nothing was up. “You have ice cream on your mouth.”

He rubbed it off, and laughed awkwardly. “Are you mad at me?”

“No?”

He laughed again, infinitely more awkward. “I just thought- y'know. Sometimes you look at me like… I’m doing something stupid.”

“I don't know where you get that from.”

Dakota wasn't laughing anymore. He was frowning now too, biting his cheek. “I… thanks for inviting me. I think I have to go soon, so…”

“Drive safe.” Vyncent looked down at his food and carefully cut a corner off.

“You mean run safe.”

Vyncent smiled a little. Dakota seemed to visibly untense. 

Nothing else came out of Tobias' case. 

They did investigate his power, and through some anecdotes figures that there was something, but something that he kept rather hidden, and nothing he used freely. It still wasn't completely clear how the power worked, and the only person who could tell them was, well, dead. 

But Vyncent was still convinced of his idea, and Dakota seemed to be on his side.

But then it happened again.

The cases piled up exponentially. All of them went the same way. 

It wasn't always a CEO, but definitely someone in power, who suddenly killed themselves. Always ruled a suicide by the forensic team- even though they sometimes started their search biased towards murder. These ones didn't appear to confess to the police first- the cases were similar to the Overlord case, rather than the Tobias or David one, but it still seemed like they were all connected.

They always left a confession in the form of a final note. The handwriting always had a high accuracy score when compared to their usual handwriting.

And finally, there was nothing to be found at the crime scene. Their office, or their house was usually in pristine condition, or at least very normal-looking. 

Only one time was there an apartment with signs of forced entry. Vyncent felt like it was making things even more confusing. Maybe it was a third party, someone trying to rob the place unrelated to the suicide…?

“This feels hopeless.” Dakota was kneeling by a rug, lifting it at the edges to inspect them.

Vyncent, slowly working across the floor, felt the same. He stared at the welcome mat a little too long. “But if we overlook anything obvious just because we were slacking…”

Dakota sighed. “I know, I know.”

“Dakota, can you come over?” When he felt his partner staring over his shoulder, he slowly lowered his hand onto the mat. “I don't know if I'm crazy, but isn't that dirt super orange?”

“...It is.”

“Can you check the shoes?”

Dakota checked them all. “Squeaky clean.”

It didn't have to mean anything. “What do you think?”

“Could be anything, really. Like, a visitor, or it's old and the shoes have been cleaned since. But if you ask me, um-” He scratched his cheek. “It's definitely not dirt from around here. The dirt we have in the parks here is super dark. At least I don't know of any place around here with dirt like that.”

Vyncent kept staring at it. It wasn't anything at all, in the end. It wasn't a lead to anything except maybe a visitor from a little further away. No sign of forced entry, nothing.

“Thanks,” He ended, curtly.

Their leads were drying up quickly. 

A few months had passed, with the cases not only persisting, but gaining in frequency. The newest suicide was incredibly violent, and Vyncent could still see blood streaks in the bathroom as they were investigating. 

This time, there wasn't even a suicide note. No confession. An investigation revealed cases of embezzlement- a word that Wordsmith had to explain to him- although even before his death, there have been rumors of worse crimes. 

Nothing that could be proven, not even by a long shot.

Vyncent was getting desperate.

“Hi, David.”

He looked better. His face looked a little clearer, and he was much more responsive to Vyncent’s presence. He almost looked annoyed, although he was still too bleary-eyed to really tell.

“What do you want?”

Definitely annoyed, then.

“I just think you'd find this interesting. You're the first in a case that is totally stumping us. And get this- you're the only one that’s survived this ordeal.”

His eyebrows raised, almost as if he was impressed with himself. “Huh. Survived in what way?”

“Well, you never tried to steal a security officer's gun and. Y'know.” Vyncent’s hand twitched, like he was about to make a finger-gun and mime the action, but he thought better of it. 

His eyes widened. “Was that something that happened?’

“More or less.”

“...damn.”

Vyncent laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. I guess, I have a hard time believing that there's just an epidemic of CEOs suddenly gaining sentience and doing so very violently. And you're our only patient we can actually talk to.”

“I think I've said everything I had to say.”

“And yet we have nothing.”

David didn't look like he cared. Vyncent was very sure that he knew something and was just trying to hide it – but it was beyond Vyncent why he would do that. “Just this one question. Who did you meet last before your confession?”

He was looking away. “I don't know. Probably someone at work.”

“When did your family visit again?”

“A month before my confession.”

“And William?”

His eyebrow twitched. “...You know him?”

He must've completely forgotten that he had mentioned his brother the first time they spoke. “Yeah, it was in your files.”

“I met him… with my family.”

Vyncent had an idea for why he would try to hide something. And it was… it was something that’s been on his mind, since the very beginning. 

“Alright.” 

But he didn't want to push it.

“Thanks for talking to me, David.”

Vyncent didn't notice how bleak his eyes got, until they suddenly snapped back into its previous state. “Anytime. Not like I have a choice.”

Vyncent stared at the large quesadilla in front of him. 

William picked the place this time, and he said it's a place he comes to way too often. Not because the food was exceptional – although it did seem good – but because it was simply convenient.

William watched sadly as some vegetables fell out of his tortilla. “People have started catching on about this.”

“This?” He took his first bite, and it was really greasy, and really hot, and a little more spicy than Vyncent expected, but he savored the bite as he really chewed on it. The cheese was stretching wide until his teeth broke the connection, and it snapped back onto the quesadilla.

“The suicides. People are speculating online.” William took a much smaller bite, nibbling at a corner.

“Oh. I guess it's kind of noticeable.”

“Mhm, I-” he swallowed his food, looking a little red at his impoliteness. “I've read on this forum, someone claiming to be behind it. They said they're putting curses on evil people and making them kill themselves. They made a list of predictions for who will come next to prove it.”

Vyncent stared at William. “...And?”

“It's definitely fake. They couldn't even predict one person right.”

“Ah.” He deflated.

“But that's a fun idea, right? Maybe there is someone who can perform curses. From the comfort of their own home and all. No traces.”

“There's always traces.” Vyncent took another long, savoring bite. All the juice from the cooked vegetables and meat dripped out of the other end through the tortilla, but it was so good that he barely even thought about it. “So you think this is someone? A person?”

William laughed, as if it were absurd. “What, as opposed to what?”

Vyncent tried not to glare at him. It was weird. “I mean, it could've been something environmental. Something in the water. A disease that acts weirdly. Maybe just genuine and real repentance. It can really be anything.”

“Well-” and William was still laughing, like he couldn't stop thinking about the absurdity of it, “It's much easier to assume that an intelligent life form – a person – was behind this targeted attack.”

“I mean, that's also been our leading theory.” He looked down at his plate, staring at the small grease stains. “Whoever it is, is a proper nuisance. I wish they would just stop.”

“Hm.” William was looking away, putting a napkin to the corner of his mouth. He was chewing slowly, real slow.

“What?”

“I think…” He looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, but he stayed steady. “Isn't there value in what the perpetrator is doing? Y'know, like the trolley problem? Kill one to save many?”

“I don't know how many are really saved by this. Violent suicides aren't what I call very heroic either.”

“Definitely not heroic.”

“Of course there's something good to take out of this whole stuff, with confessions and being able to track it all down and stuff. I get that. But I mean…” There was oil running down his hands. He was listlessly staring at his quesadilla. “Belltech, Blackwood Tech, all that stuff- they're evil. But now we're getting confessions of… embezzlement? And I mean, man, money’s not even real. What's the point of killing over that?”

“...We don't know if it's just embezzlement, do we?”

“It's all that anything is pointing towards. The rest is just rumors – we haven't found anything substantial.”

William was looking at his half-eaten plate. He hadn't taken a bite for a bit now, and it didn't seem like he was going to finish it.

“I think I'll ask for a box.”

Vyncent paid for their meal when William wasn't paying attention, and he was thanking him profusely in a way that almost made Vyncent feel flustered.

“I don't live far from here…” William tapered off, putting his hands in his pockets as they walked outside.

“I can come with you.”

William flashed him a smile. “If it's not a bother.”

It was starting to get dark as their feet carried them along the curb, holding very casual conversation for once. William talked briefly about college, and Vyncent hoped that it didn't show how little he understood about ‘undergrad’ and ‘bachelor’s degrees’.

“I have no idea where I'll work one day. Genuinely.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Everything I like would pay me in coins.”

“...Maybe-” Vyncent looked away. “You could come work with me. You're intelligent, there's surely a position that you'd like.”

William snorted. But as the silence persisted, he seemed to realize that it wasn't a joke. “I- I'm not the hero type. Sorry.”

“I'm not telling you to be a hero. Maybe- maybe an investigator.”

“You really think they'll take someone like me?” He raised his eyebrow. When he asked, it didn't sound like self-doubt, but pure skepticism. Vyncent didn't know how to tell him that he was already showing how he'd be good for the job.

“I do think so.”

William looked at his feet as they were walking. The streetlights around them turned on, as they were walking down a tree-lined asphalt path. “That's sweet, Vyncent.” 

He suddenly stopped, standing under one of the lights. It shined down on his dark hair, making the tips of them seem almost white. He was smiling slightly. Vyncent saw that behind him, the path diverged to lead into the entrance of a simple four family apartment, surrounded by a little bit of greenery.

“Is that where you live?’

William nodded. “...Thanks for taking me. And for paying for my food.”

“No problem.”

William didn't move for a moment. He was just looking at Vyncent. He took a deep breath, before talking again. “And, uh… thanks for doing this. I mean it. For calling me and talking to me about this. I don't know how to show my appreciation, but I do appreciate it. I really do.”

“Hey-” Vyncent reached out, holding William gently by his arm. He looked at his own hand like he didn't know where that was coming from, but he left it there a moment longer. “You're helping me too. Don't even worry.”

William smiled a little bigger. He stood there, making this intense eye contact with Vyncent- not saying a word, just waiting. He seemed almost nervous, waiting for something. 

Vyncent cleared his throat. “Um-”

“I'll be off then.” His smile grew a little crooked. “Good night, Vyncent.”

Vyncent's hand dropped off his shoulder. “Good night, Will.”

He turned around, looking over his shoulder to wave, and Vyncent watched him disappear behind the front door.

…

He must've stood there for more than a minute, as if he was watching the air replace the space where William stood. 

He was trying to understand what just happened- what William was waiting for while he was staring at him expectantly. He wished he had someone he could text and ask, someone who could maybe explain it to him, but…

His phone made a short noise. Vyncent perked up, taking it out of his pocket. With a clumsy swipe of his finger, he opened a notification before reading it.

It was a simple text, from a number that wasn't known to him. It wasn't saved, but also, it didn't seem to be one that he recognized at all. No profile picture, no display name.

I know who's behind all this. 

Vyncent stared at the message, his eyes wide. Three dots appeared, suspended for a second.

I want to talk.

Chapter Text

“I don't know…”

Dakota was pinching his bottom lip as he was nervously pacing around, his feet tapping an echo into the room they found themselves in. Vyncent himself was checking his phone every few seconds, as if it would magically change what was written on it.

An address, I'm not here to fight, and, but I prefer if you come alone.

That's how they found themselves on the second floor of an  abandoned housing complex, in a neighborhood that was abandoned years ago due to a huge catastrophic event – Vyncent remembered it so vividly because it was the first huge mission he was involved in. Dakota must've also been part of it.

“They said they're not looking for a fight.”

“That's nice of them to say, but- I still don't know. I'm worried.”

“There's nothing to worry about. We're capable enough.”

“Not if we're walking into a trap.”

It was true, and Vyncent knew it. The Greats within him were all tense, waiting for the stone to drop and take over to get Vyncent and Dakota out of there. Vyncent was fine on his own, thank you very much.

But if it was a trap, it was a very poorly made one, and obviously Vyncent told Wordsmith that he was leaving to talk to a mysterious messenger. Wordsmith trusted Vyncent's judgement – if he said he didn't need any backup, then he won't send any backup. All they needed was for Wordsmith to keep an eye on the trackers they had on them, just in case it was an actual trap.

“We're fine.”

“Yes…” Dakota stopped in his tracks, and then turned with a dramatic flourish. “If we get ambushed I will just-” He kicked his leg up, and Vyncent felt a gust of wind hit his face. “Or if there's a tripwire that- that expels a bunch of arrows we can just-” And then he ducked, and weaved around nothing at all. “And if there's poisonous gas… well, that got me beat I guess.”

“...Then I'll just use my sword as a fan to dispel the gas.”

“Quick thinking!”

Dakota and Vyncent were much more on edge now. Vyncent felt his fingers tightening around his sword, as if he was expecting Dakota's ideas of a trap to actually come into fruition. 

Maybe because they were so attentive, then, they heard it – distant, from the bottom of the stairs, slow and rhythmically strange footsteps. They weren't particularly quiet, they weren't trying to conceal themselves, but it wasn't loud like they were announcing their presence. 

They tensed, going a little into their knees. Getting ready to run, or to jump at danger, or something along those lines.

The door knob turned. Vyncent grit his teeth. The door squeaked open.

… 

“I was expecting you to be alone.” 

There was a man in front of them, slicked back auburn hair and a stern face – he had glasses folded in the front of his shirt, and no weapon as far as Vyncent could see. But that didn't mean much. Dakota also didn't have a weapon.

“We… are both working on this case. It would only make sense to come as a duo.”

He lowered his eyes. “Fair enough.” The man walked in further, and Vyncent noticed a limp in his left leg – that must've been the strange rhythm they heard. “I'd appreciate it if you put your weapon down.”

Vyncent nodded slowly. It was fine. He was not defenseless without his weapon. In any case, it probably gave him the upper hand in a sudden attack. But who could he call on? His mind quickly tried deciding between Min and Alphonse – and he decided that he'd leave it up to them. He put his sword down, somewhere next to him, and watched the man approach pretty casually after that.

“I'm gonna sit.” He leaned heavily against a dusty armchair, before plopping down with a sigh. Watching the motion, Dakota put a hand on Vyncent's shoulder – making him twitch, as Min and Alphonse were still bickering who could take the guy in a fight, even though they knew nothing of him – and sat down on the couch next to the chair, pulling Vyncent along with him.

Vyncent crossed his legs. “How did you find my number?”

The man- or boy… probably around their age, if Vyncent could guess right- looked off to the side. “In ways I wouldn't talk about without my lawyer. But this isn't about that, is it?”

Vyncent was glaring him down. Dakota had his hands up, moving them slowly as if he was trying to soothe a large animal. “Let's start with offering a name. I'm-”

“DC. I know. And he's Virion. You guys are public figures.”

“Ah…” Dakota was rubbing his neck a little awkwardly.

“I don't care if you know who I am. You can just call me Xavier but- it's best if you don't call me anything at all.”

It was a strange display. Xavier had a look of quiet, angry determination – his voice was grave and clear, as if every word he said mattered. It was difficult to know why someone as young as Vyncent and Dakota was already acting so serious. 

“You said you knew something about this case.” Vyncent's fingers were tapping on his knee. “I'd like to hear what you know. And what you want from us.”

Xavier's face darkened. “I'll have you know one thing. The only thing I want is for you to catch the person responsible for this. If you don't- I'll do it myself. No matter what it takes.”

He felt approval in him, and he quickly attributed it to the Greats. This was the kind of mindset that raised him on Fauna – but Prime worked differently. Somewhere along the way, bits and pieces of Vyncent eroded away to give way for all the strange and complicated ways Prime deals with things. 

It came with the job.

“Alright.” Dakota was rubbing his arm, and his eyes were moving about as if he felt uncomfortable. “Can you tell us what you know?”

Xavier nodded slowly. His hands were gripping the armrest.

Xavier didn't tell them what type of work he did, but Vyncent figured it wasn't something he should ask.

Xavier had been investigating Belltech, just before David's confession. He recalled being knocked out cold in the middle of that investigation, and waking up in a dimly-lit room.

“David Bell was researching… something. My friend, he's not a human. I don't know exactly what he was looking for, but he was looking for it inside of my friend.”

“Inside?”

Xavier pointed at his chest, and dragged the finger donward. “Inside.”

“...” Vyncent swallowed the feeling stuck in his throat.

“I was there with my friend on the operating table, and another friend. She woke up before I did.” 

Xavier's face had been agitated- obvious anger in his gestures and voice, even as he was trying to keep it down. But it all turned completely blank in an instant. 

“She managed to free herself somehow, without alerting the people in the room.” He talked slower, as if he was wading through the words in search of the end of his sentence. “There were three other people in that room. David, a security guard, and the person who's behind the case you two are investigating.”

This obviously piqued their interest. “How can you tell?”

He looked down. His hand was on his leg, the one he was limping on, and he was carefully massaging his thigh – pulling a face, as if it hurt a little. “He is intertwined in the David Bell thing, first of all, so he is an obvious suspect – but he had some kind of ability… I don't know what it was. I just remember that I couldn't sleep for days. Not because I wasn't tired, but everytime I closed my eyes, I just kept seeing horrific shit. It kept me up.”

Vyncent's gaze darkened. This inability to sleep was something both David and Tobias expressed – and if they hadn't killed themselves immediately, the other's must've seen the same fate.

Xavier's expression broke, showing a slight smile. “Seems like I'm onto something?”

“Maybe.” Vyncent leaned forward. “Is there more to it? Something that makes you think the person working alongside David Bell is the same one that is causing all this, right now?”

“I know this person has no scruples about killing.”

“Hm.”

“What's he look like?” Dakota asked.

Xavier was silent for a moment, burying his face in his hands. He spoke, a little muffled. “I couldn't get a clear look of his face. I'm pretty sure it was a guy. A little shorter than me. It's just- everything was full of smoke… But if you showed me a picture of a suspect, I could definitely tell you if it's the right guy. I'm sure of it.”

“And your friends? Could they have seen anything?”

His movement stilled. “No.”

“Are you sure? If it's no problem, it would help a lot to talk to them-”

“Allen was out the entire time. He was on the operating table. We woke up where they found us, I guess, back in our home, and Allen woke up even later than I did. But-” He stopped with a gasp. He didn't start again.

Vyncent and Dakota shared a look, and Dakota was trying to say something by moving his mouth, but Vyncent couldn't really understand it. It didn't matter in the end, as their attention was brought back to Xavier, suddenly and unexpectedly- a quiet sob turning into shaking shoulders and uneven breathing.

Dakota looked ready to stand up and walk over to him, but before he could do so, Xavier quickly rubbed his hands over his face, and sat up straight again. 

He sniffed, his eyes puffy and red. “My friend Cantrip died. Don't know how exactly. It's that guy that killed her.”

“I'm so sorry, Xavier-”

“Don't say that.” He shook his head. He was obviously out of it now, but trying to stay steady. “Just get the guy. I know he's related to your case, just get that guy.”

They both nodded. “Is there anything distinct you can remember? Anything that might help?”

Xavier scrunched his nose. He was looking around the room, trying to recall something. “There was an overwhelming smell of smoke. I think I was seeing things, I- I have a hard time remembering stuff.”

“That's okay. You've been a big help.” Dakota smiled softly. “Can you show us what your friend looked like?”

Xavier nodded. He pulled out a picture out of his jacket – a physical picture, not his phone – and held it out, waiting for Vyncent and Dakota to come to him.

They did, leaving the couch and walking over. Xavier didn't let the picture go at first, as Vyncent tried taking it, but after a gentle pull he relented.

The picture was taken with a bright flash, leaving everything in the background as dark as the night. In the foreground was Xavier- unrecognizable. He had strange party glasses on, with a big grin on his face. His eyes were wild and bright, and his arm was around a girl. She was pushing her head into his, and she was wearing a silver glittery top-hat – at this point Vyncent realized this must've been new years eve or something – and although she wasn't grinning like Xavier was, she had this slight smirk on her face, her eyes half-lidded like they have been partying for a while now.

Vyncent could swear he recognized her from somewhere. 

The purple hair, peeking out from under the hat, was obviously something that'd stay in mind… but her face too. Something about it stirred his memory. Maybe he used to know her?

…But nothing came to mind.

“What was her name?” Dakota asked quietly – sympathetically. “Or was she just Cantrip?”

“She’d always introduce herself as Cantrip,” Xavier said. His eyelids were heavy, his gaze set to the floor. “But her real name was Jade.”

“Jade,” Vyncent repeated, looking at the image of her. Alive, happy, counting down the minutes to the new year – he wondered what her new year's resolution was. He wondered if she could fulfill it before she died.

The picture felt incredibly heavy for some reason.

“Thank you, Xavier.” Dakota's voice was quiet in Vyncent's ears. There was a hand on his shoulder, making him step away. “We'll do everything in our power to catch the perpetrator.”

Dakota and Vyncent were silent as they walked outside, leaving Xavier behind in this abandoned house. They ignored the sound they heard from all the way upstairs, something full of grief and anger, and walked out with blank faces. In fact, they didn't talk until they reached Vyncent's motorcycle, parked and hidden behind some bushes.

Dakota breathed out as if he had been holding it for hours. “Holy shit.”

Vyncent briefly looked at the window of the house they were just in. “It's grim.” He handed Dakota the helmet.

“So… Do you think he's right? Our guy and his guy are the same guy?”

“I'm not very sure.” He put on his own helmet, swinging his leg over the motorcycle. He held it steady as he waited for Dakota to hop on, his hands wrapping around his waist. “But if it's not, it's still valuable information.” He put his hand over his chest, where his inner jacket pocket was – when Vyncent asked if he could take a picture of his photo, Xavier had basically pushed it into Vyncent's hands, as if it physically hurt him to hold. “Finding another murderer, even if it isn't the one we're looking for, wouldn't really be a loss.”

“You're right.”

Vyncent revved his bike. “Hold on tight.”

“It's you again.” David had his head on the table, glaring at Vyncent through his crossed arms. He didn't move until Vyncent was seated, sitting up straight and leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. He put a leg up and rested his arm on his knee, looking fairly relaxed.

“Are you sleeping well?”

He huffed. “Sleeping is the only interesting thing to do around here.” He leaned forward, raising his eyebrows. “You know, I've been getting into lucid dreaming – maybe if I imagine leaving prison vividly enough it will just happen.”

“Sounds like a plan…”

“Yeah. But you don't care about my imaginative escape attempts. What are you here for?”

Vyncent didn't know David had this vitriolic sense of humor. “I don't think you know how important you are to this case. I told you – you are the only living victim. And yet you won't tell us what happened.”

David was looking away, his lips curling up. “I guess it's a case of amnesia.”

“Can you make it any more obvious that you're lying?”

“I'm not!” He held his hands up, innocence incarnate.

“Alright.” Vyncent's nose scrunched in frustration. He huffed. “Let me jog your memory then.”

“By all means…”

He reached within his jacket and pulled out the picture Xavier gave him. Staring at it for a moment his eyes glided over Cantrip- Jade. And he remembered it, then, where he knew her from.

Several months ago, just around David's confession, an unclaimed corpse was found. The realization somehow made it worse – she died, and to Vyncent it meant nothing at all. Xavier's quiet wailing echoed in his ears, and he couldn't help the glare he sent David before folding the picture in half, so only Jade was visible. He turned it around, pressing the photo against the glass separating them.

“Do you know her?”

David's face froze. His slight smile was melting into something taut and tense, and his eyes widened as his skin paled. Something immediately changed.

Vyncent saw it as a good sign. He kept talking. “You were in a room with her and some others. Who was in the room?’

“Her.” He swallowed. “What's her name?”

“You don't know?”

He shook his head, his eyes transfixed on the image.

“Cantrip.”

“Right.” His lips shook as he talked. “And she had two friends.”

“Had…?”

“I didn't mean for her to die.” David put a hand over his mouth, his voice muffled. “But it happened anyway.”

“Who killed her?”

“I did.”

Vyncent tried not to breathe out too loudly, his frustration building. “No, I know it wasn't you. Who was it?”

“Bad Militia. I employed them to protect me.”

Vyncent didn't move. “It wasn't that either.”

Xavier specifically differentiated the perpetrator from the other security in the room – but Vyncent couldn't know if they weren't just another guard.

“I- I don't know what you're talking about.” David was stammering now, opening his mouth as if he had more to say. “As if- as if you were there, you don't know anything-”

“David. Who killed Cantrip?”

“I did.”

“In a sense, yes- but who- I mean, someone did the heavy lifting of it. Someone used their own two hands to kill her. Who was it?”

David was shaking. His mouth was wired shut, his hands folded over each other. He was sitting ramrod straight, and his eyes couldn't meet Vyncent's.

Over the months he seemed to have recovered from whatever happened to him, becoming huffy and sarcastic – but all of it seemed to have gone back to zero.

“David…”

He didn't even twitch.

“It's alright. You don't have to answer that question. David, do you hear me?”

Nothing. It's as if he was completely clocked out.

“Hey, I'm sorry.” He put the photo back into his jacket. His voice wasn't as soft as he should've made it. And a moment later, watching the man in front of him not even blink at the words, all forced softness left him. “You do know that people are dying, right? You know who did this, and you're not telling us- or, at least you know something. You're still a bad person. You're still not helping us. You're letting people die.”

Finally, there was a small reaction. David's eyes moved just the slightest bit, almost managing to make eye contact with Vyncent. His words were quiet. “They probably deserve it.”

“Fuck you.”

A second later, Vyncent was biting his own cheek, the anger immediately seeping into uncomfortable embarrassment. But David didn't even seem to hear it. He was there, sitting, empty. Just a husk.

Vyncent knew he couldn't get anything more out of him. He stood up and left. His hand was on the doorknob longer than he'd like to admit, straining his ears to see if David would say anything at all.

He held his breath until he was out the door.

The waiting room was mostly empty, save for-

“Vyncent?”

His head snapped up. It was William –  standing up from the seat in the waiting area, and walking towards him with a surprised expression. “Were you talking to my brother?”

“Yeah, uh-” He looked back. It wouldn't do well for William to go in there, not after David experienced such a sudden spiral. And it was Vyncent's fault, no less. He was biting his lip, looking at the floor. “Do you wanna go grab a coffee?”

William looked tired. He didn't particularly seem like he wanted to talk to David, and when he looked over Vyncent's shoulder to stare at the door to the visitors room, his eyes grew just a little darker.

He wrapped his hand around Vyncent's arm. Vyncent looked down, and the contact was initiated so casually by William that he almost felt like it was obviously completely natural – but looking over, he could tell that William was very rigidly looking forward, as if he was nervous to look at him.

Still, he spoke clearly. “Lead the way.”

They ended up in a small park on a bench, two plastic cups in their hands. Vyncent looked down at his coffee, and he regretted not telling the barista that she got his order wrong – it was just so busy, which was the only explanation why he got a sweet cappuccino instead of a black coffee. He took a sip, and the sweetness was like a thin layer in his mouth – the drink warming his throat.

“Thanks for taking me out.” William was thumbing the lid of his own coffee, his gaze solemn and almost peaceful. “I made it a habit to visit him every now and again. I don't think anyone else is… except you. My parents just live too far away, they can't make the trip every month. But then when I don't visit, I feel so bad.”

“You shouldn't. It's not like he's in solitary confinement. He's fine.”

“I know…” He sighed. “It's stupid. Let's talk about something else.”

Vyncent smiled, tilting his head. “How's college?”

“Oh. Way too much.”

William was talking, and Vyncent understood about half of it- and then William was going through his phone to show him pictures of his campus, but kept getting distracted, and showing him pictures of other stuff. While waiting, Vyncent took out his own phone.

He fiddled with it, opening the camera app and trying to just find out how to take the picture- 

And suddenly the flash went off. Vyncent was staring at his phone, bright eyed.

William stopped talking, and opened his mouth silently. “...were you taking a picture of me?”

“No! No, I was just- I just don't know how this stupid thing works, I was just trying to-” he blabbered, flustered and worried, and he was sure that William could see through him entirely.

William had a hand over his mouth. Vyncent himself tried saying something, maybe come up with a lie to explain what he was trying to do, but nothing came of it. He didn't know if William was shocked or if he had an epiphany or what-

He made a weird noise. And then he made another noise, his eyes creasing at the ends, and before long, Vyncent realized that he was giggling.

“I'm so sorry, I'm not trying to laugh at you-” he said, before falling into another quiet fit of giggles.

Vyncent felt even more flustered now. He knew his face was red-hot. 

William scooted over on the bench, carefully taking Vyncent's phone out of his hands. Vyncent had half the heart to say that there was classified information on there, but William just clicked on the screen once, and suddenly the camera was facing them. Vyncent could see their faces on his phone as William lifted it to be somewhere around their eye level, and then he lifted it a little higher.

He leaned his head against Vyncent's, and not only were their shoulders touching, but so were their arms, their thighs, and their legs- and William was smiling a little as he pressed the button to take a photo, urging Vyncent to do the same.

Usually when he was told to smile for a picture, it was something that looked awkward and fake, and it never reached his eyes – but as he was watching his face, he felt that it was genuine. Even if it was shaky.

William handed the phone back, and he scooted a little away from Vyncent. His hands folded on his lap, and he was looking at the floor. “I- I mean. You don't need to sneak photos of me. If that's what you were even trying to do.”

“I wasn't.” He argued weakly. “I never use my camera.”

“You should. It's nice to look back.” William's finger twitched a little, and in a fluid motion, he pulled out a cigarette pack and a lighter. “Do you smoke?”

“Nope.”

He shrugged lightly as he put the cigarette between his lips and lit the end. Vyncent watched him puff out a small cloud of smoke.

“It's a bad habit. But I'm not stopping anytime soon.”

“Hm.” 

Vyncent looked back down at his phone. He was trying not to seem obvious as he opened his message app, and looked for the unknown number that was Xavier. It was easy to find – and opening the camera roll was easier than he thought. He selected the latest picture, and stared at it – thinking what to write along with it, looking at the send button- 

A hand was suddenly on his. Vyncent instinctively turned his phone off, looking up at William.

Their hands intertwined. William was smiling a little. “I like hanging out with you.”

“...Thanks.” He looked at their hands. William was a little cold, but there was a warmth building between their palms. His own fingers wrapped around William's, and he looked back up. “I like hanging out with you too.”

William was still not looking at him, and continued avoiding his eye contact for the rest of his stay – but he couldn't keep a slight smile off his face, something happy and flustered.

Vyncent wished he knew what exactly it meant.

Vyncent was back in Watch after an uneventful patrol.

For a moment, he basked in the silence of the locker room, sitting in the middle of the room and letting his head hang. His ears adjusted to the quiet surroundings. It's been quiet on the sudden-suicide front, but the breaks in-between deaths ranged from anything between two weeks and more than a month. There was no time to relax.

Literally no time, Vyncent thought, as the door slammed open a little too loudly. Dakota was walking in, briefly waving at Vyncent but not saying a thing.

“Hi.” Vyncent said anyway, his eyes still glued to the wall across from him.

Dakota was dragging his hero costume off, and he was panting weirdly as he did so. His breathing itself was just slightly uneven. 

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise as he exposed a wound on his skin, dried blood around his waist and hip. Somehow, it still shocked Vyncent.

Before Dakota could take out his shirt and just put it haphazardly over the untreated wound, Vyncent stood up and grabbed him by his shoulder. “We're going to the med office.”

“Hm?” He looked earnestly confused. “Are you… oh.” He looked down at his wound, and he made a face like he just remembered it existed. His hand covered it up as if Vyncent would just forget it's there. “I was just going to take care of that myself later.”

“You're no use to Watch if you're hurt.”

Dakota gave him this pissed off expression, and Vyncent was always fascinated by how easy it was to read him. “If you say things like this you just sound mean.”

“Go get it fixed up.”

“I don't want to waste time.”

Vyncent understood the sentiment- the nurse had to be called, and once they figured that it wasn't anything lethal they liked taking their sweet time. And by the looks of it it wasn't anything bad. It wasn't a stab wound. “What did you do?”

“Got dragged across the concrete.” Dakota made a motion with his hand that was supposed to look like someone sliding over the floor.

“Sit down for a second.”

He easily followed, and Vyncent walked over to his own locker at a leisurely pace. His steps echoed a little in the empty room, and the metal locker was loud as well. A small first aid kit stood inside, and as he pulled it out and faced Dakota again, the other boy was tapping his feet against the floor and drumming against the bench with his fingers.

“Come on.” Vyncent sat down next to him and motioned for Dakota to get his arm out of the way. “I'll make sure that it's fine enough for you to walk around.”

“I can walk around just fine…” Dakota mumbled, but he still pushed his waistband down to expose the full wound, and raised his arm. “Can I-” He didn't finish the question, but instead just tilted his head as he rested his elbow on Vyncent's shoulder.

“Sure.”

Vyncent did this so many times to himself, had this done to himself by a professional, a moment where he could space out and follow simple orders- raise your arm, keep breathing, this will sting, follow my finger, do you hear me Virion?- but he never did this for anyone else. Even back on Fauna, it was usually him scraping his knee and getting patched up. His mind worked sluggishly as he pulled out disinfectant.

“This will sting,” He said, the nurse's warning echoing in his voice. 

As he was scraping off the dried blood, the room filled with this metallic stench, mingling with the penetrating smell of the disinfectant. Dakota's arm was on his shoulder and it all made Vyncent dizzy in some way. His hands felt clunky underneath his skin, and it just felt like he was scratching Dakota open. 

Revealing the wound caused a little fresh blood to spill out. He stared at it- small dots, beading into big drops, before spilling over and running down Dakota's hip. 

He quickly caught it and held the tissue against his skin as he searched for bandages.

“Who did you fight?” Vyncent asked quietly, half-hoping that Dakota just didn't hear.

“I don't know exactly.” His fingers drummed against the bench again. “There were multiple of them. I just broke up a fight between some people, and it got serious. I didn't expect to be surrounded, I guess.”

“Just regular civilians?” Vyncent unfurled the roll of bandages, and started wrapping them around Dakota's torso.

“They covered their faces once they figured I'm a hero. But I think they were just some troublemakers.”

Alphonse was taking up space in his head, pressing against his brain as if to take over- likely being unsatisfied with Vyncent's medical work and trying to fix it. But for some reason, Vyncent didn't let him. He just mentally shushed him, and even though he stayed insistent for a little longer, he gave up a few minutes later.

“Does it feel okay?” Dakota looked at him questioningly. Vyncent elaborated, “The bandages. Do they sit well?”

“Um… yeah.”

When Vyncent looked up at Dakota, he still looked like he wanted to say something, but he was just opening and closing his mouth. He kept it closed. “Just say it.”

“If you could- maybe a little tighter?”

“Of course I can.” He unfurled the bandages, and reapplied them, this time just a little tighter. “It's not too much now, is it?”

“No. Thanks.”

He used a long adhesive band aid to secure the bandage. With his head lowered, he couldn't see Dakota's face. “Why do you act so weird around me?”

Dakota didn't respond, simply sitting there as Vyncent straightened everything out. Vyncent didn't expect an answer. He didn't even know why he asked. He felt strange about it, a moment later. As if he shouldn't have said anything in the first place.

Dakota stood up first, silently putting his shirt on. Vyncent kept his head down.

“There's, um…” Dakota cleared his throat. “There's a new pizza shop around the corner by the precinct. If you like we could go eat there. One of those days.”

Dakota balled the front of his shirt into his fists, his thumbs stretching the fabric a little. 

“I don't like pizza.”

There was something vulnerable in his eyes that hardened and locked away with Vyncent's response. He nodded courtly. “Okay.” He turned away with that, and even to Vyncent, the tension was too much.

Somehow he felt so out of his depth. It was always fine to be blunt and direct with everyone, because his employers valued his honesty and anyone who didn't like the way he talked, didn't have to like it.

But right now he just felt like an… asshole. Simply for stating the fact that he didn't like pizza. It was turning slowly in his mind, but he realized that saying this- plainly, with no other information, easily seemed like a rejection. 

“I mean- I guess I like plain pizza.”

“...” Dakota looked over his shoulder. A small smile appeared on his face. Vyncent didn't know why the relief in his chest felt so strong. “What about Friday?”

“I'm free.”

Vyncent stood up as well, and they left the locker room that smelled of sweat and blood, and entered the hallway that smelled like there was a serious ventilation problem in this basement. Their steps still echoed, bouncing off the walls, and it was obvious by the sound, hearing the lightness of Dakota’s steps, that he was strangely happy.

He skipped along Vyncent's side to his motorcycle, and he stopped before running into a car on accident. He eyed the vehicle for a second, but blinked quickly as if he didn't want Vyncent to notice his wandering eyes.

“Thanks,” He said, hand folded behind his back. “See you Friday.”

Vyncent put his helmet on, swinging a leg over his bike. He blinked once at Dakota. “See you Friday.”

The pizza was steaming hot in front of him. It was one of those authentic ones, with the thin crust, to the point where the edges were slightly burned, and he was given a fork and a knife to cut it instead of getting it pre-sliced.

Dakota looked a little- not confused, but surprised, almost as if he expected something more crude. When they looked around they were surrounded by many other customers, a few bigger groups, but mostly others by their twosome.

There was a candle between them and red napkins next to their plates and Vyncent had to clear his throat.

“It's nice here.” 

He opened a menu that he previously ignored, and quickly closed it again as he saw that it was just a large menu of expensive wine bottles. Foreign names that Vyncent didn't know how to pronounce, red, white, rose, champagne, dry- he had no idea. Instead he took a sip from his soda, and Dakota followed with his cup of water.

Sensing that Dakota probably wouldn't cut the pizza first, he maneuvered around and scraped his knife against the plate, making these terrible scratching sounds that briefly turned the heads of the people around them. And after a few awkward minutes of that, Dakota watching with the occasional grimace at the squeaking sound, the pizza was split in a few unequal parts.

“I'll be honest-” Dakota ungracefully grabbed a slice with his fingers and dropped it on his plate. “I thought this was going to be a more… fast food type place.”

“I figured.” Vyncent tried picking up the slice with his fork and knife, but that proved to be difficult, so he gave up and just grabbed it with his hand as well.

This was socializing… something Vyncent never really did. “How long have you been at Watch?”

“Just a little longer than you. Maybe a month.” He bit into his pizza, and the tomato sauce gathered a little in the corners of his mouth. “I was part of this short program for young heroes and one thing led to another… this was my big dream, and all.” 

“Really?” Vyncent stared at his drink, watching it bubble. When he looked back up, the slice on Dakota's plate was gone, and he was lifting up another. “This was your big dream?”

“Yeah, ever since I was a little kid!”

There was a pause in the conversation, but even as Vyncent tilted his head to get more out of him, Dakota just coyly smiled, keeping the topic at arms reach. 

“What about you, Vynce?”

Vynce, he thought. He never really got many nicknames. Back in Fauna, the older kids would taunt him as Vivi, something too cute for a young boy that took himself very seriously. “What about me?”

“I mean… why do you work here?”

Vyncent shrugged, biting into his pizza. “I got here and they employed me.”

Dakota laughed. And then he stopped laughing. “Was that a joke?”

“Not really.”

“I can never tell with you.” Dakota took a careful sip of his water. “What do you mean you were just employed?”

“That's literally what happened. I got here when I was 16, and I didn't understand what's happening, and they said they could take care of me. And they did, and then I had a job, and I haven't quit, so…”

“Ha…” Dakota must've thought it was a joke again. “And you like it here?”

“I like the pay. I like the action. I like getting to use my powers. I like my apartment. I think Wordsmith is tolerable.”

Dakota giggled. This time it was a joke. “I think my coworkers are also pretty cool.”

“I don't really talk to anyone.”

He gave Vyncent this very pointed look. Eyes penetrating, and all. 

“Oh- uh. Thanks.” Vyncent looked down. Did he expect a compliment back? Vyncent didn't understand why he felt so uncomfortable for a moment, until he realized his neck was hot, and his shirt felt like it was strangling him. When he touched his cheek, his hand was cold as ice in comparison. “Thanks,” he said again.

Dakota smiled. “Hey. You wanna get out of here?”

Vyncent looked down at their plate. They still had three slices of pizza left. “Let's ask for a box.”

They ended up sitting in an empty skate park, their legs dangling off the round ledge. Vyncent had the pizza box in his lap, slowly nibbling away at his slice. 

“Was there anything you wanted to do?”

The back of Dakota's foot kept swinging against the ledge. “Nope. I'm happy”

“We just went out to eat and nothing else…”

“You're good company. I just wanted to hang out with you.”

Dakota was so honest it was painful. Vyncent thought himself to be blunt, but he realized that he could never speak this freely – he could complain like a champ, though. “I- I guess you're getting what you want, then.”

Somehow, conversation with Dakota was easy. Maybe because he was enthusiastically leading the conversation. For once, not about their case, but about anything he could put his mind on. Wordsmith, their other coworkers, a band he discovered, a funny story about his highschool time…

And Vyncent somehow, naturally responded. 

For the first time in years, he found himself telling a casual story about Fauna. When it was usually just this coveted and secret thing, something that stuck like a nail in his throat, he could feel it spilling out. And he was talking too quickly and sounded too high-pitched, but Dakota didn't point it out.

The Greats were blessedly silent at this part. But he felt their presence, every one of them. Like they were straining their ears, sitting patiently to listen in.

Dakota didn't sit silently. It should've been infuriating when he interjected every few minutes to ask a question that uprooted the entire story and steered Vyncent onto an entirely different story. But Vyncent liked it.

He talked until his throat was raw. He talked until they watched the sun set behind them.

The pizza box was long empty, and their conversation tapered off. Vyncent fiddled with his phone.

“Can you, um, help me? I need to cut this image.”

“Hm?” Dakota took the phone that Vyncent was pressing into his hand. “You mean crop?”

“Yeah. I just want one face-”

Dakota was looking at the image. Of course, it was Vyncent looking sort of confused yet smiling into the camera, and William looking like a fool himself. And for some reason he was expecting Dakota to look up with a grin and tease Vyncent about the picture, or maybe he was even hoping for him to do so, just so Vyncent could figure out what's happening between him and William.

Instead his eyes flickered up, and he swallowed dryly, before looking back down. His voice was unnaturally even as he spoke. “Whose face do you want?”

“His.”

Dakota did so with a few easy swipes of his finger. He handed the phone back, looking at the floor. “You're still in contact with William?”

“Yeah.” Vyncent scratched his head. “For the case.”

“I doubt he would have much left to say about the case…”

“It's just… productive to bounce ideas off of him.”

“Oh.” His hands were folded in his lap. Vyncent didn't know why he was acting so strange. “If you ever need to… you can talk to me about ideas. If William isn't available.”

Vyncent laughed quickly, and then shook his head. “We think too similar.”

For some odd reason, that made Dakota perk up again. He smiled softly at Vyncent. “Do we?” It was such a strange thing to get flustered about, but Dakota didn't sit on it. “Why did you want me to crop that picture?”

“Well…”

Dakota waited, but Vyncent didn't respond. “Did you want to send it to Xavier?”

Vyncent looked down. His head was swimming a lot lately. Somehow, Dakota said something like this so easily.

“I don't know.”

“It's not like it could hurt.”

It did hurt, somehow. “All the proof around William is… situational.”

“We only have situational proof.”

“Dakota.” He sighed. “It makes sense, only in the way that he's David's brother. Why would David protect the perpetrator? It's his little brother. Why would William continue being so interested in this case? He's the perpetrator. I don't know. But… William can't be our suspect.”

“Why not?”

Because Vyncent liked him. Because he looked forward to seeing him, and William seemed to feel the same way. What sick idea would it be to hang out with the man who was investigating your crime?

“He's not capable of any of that.”

Dakota was leaning closer. They were pressed together, and Dakota's head was leaning against his shoulder. “You send the picture to Xavier – you can be sure it's not him. You'll feel better.”

“Yeah.” The word was soundless. It made sense, of course. But on the off chance… “Later.”

Dakota hummed. He straightened up a bit.

“You know, one thing-” Dakota rubbed his cheek for a moment as he seemed to think. “Remember back in Overlord's office, that paper you sent to the lab?”

He nodded.

“Did you ever get it back?”

Vyncent frowned. “Yeah. They said it looked like a grocery list.”

“So… nothing interesting?”

“Nope…” Vyncent's legs kicked the air in front of him, and he dug the tip of his shoe into the concrete.  “But- it's weird, isn't it?”

Dakota nodded, face determined. “Why was it burnt?”

“Exactly. If it's just a simple grocery list.”

They both looked ahead. Vyncent felt himself getting pumped up for a moment. But- “We're not on the clock. Let's not talk about work.”

“...Alright.” Dakota was still close. Arm to arm, staring at the setting sun over the city. “What did you want to talk about?”

Vyncent hesitated. Slowly, he started up. 

“I could tell you about my family.”

It was night when Vyncent was sitting at home that he finally got over himself.

Dakota was right. He could just send the picture and feel better. Xavier was going to say no, and he'll go to live on doubt free.

I have a picture of a suspect, he texted, and he was just a hair width from clicking on his gallery. To his surprise, there was an immediate answer.

No, it said and Vyncent's eyebrows furrowed. I don't want to anymore.

Vyncent sat up straighter on his couch. What why what happened

No reply. Vyncent clicked to call the number.

It rang two times, before he picked up.

“Xavier? What's going on?”

There was breathing on the other side. “I can't do this.”

“What? Of course you can. You only need to identify.”

“I can't do this, I won't.” 

His voice sounded shaky. He barely sounded like himself. “...Are you okay?”

“Virion.” The breathing was loud on the speaker. “Forget about me. Delete my number. Forget we ever talked.”

“Xavier, where are you right now?”

“I don't know.”

Vyncent was standing up, a fingernail digging into his bottom lip. “Can you describe what you see?” And when there wasn't a reply save for erratic breathing, he followed, “We can help you, and then we can talk in peace-”

“No!”

“Xavier…”

“I can't do this. Forget about me.”

The phone call ended.

Vyncent felt a shudder on his spine. Was he attacked again? Did something slip, did someone find out?

…

Xavier, he texted.

The app informed him that he was blocked.

“Fuck…” he sighed quietly. His finger immediately danced over to Wordsmith, and he started texting for a little, before he deleted it all, and instead made a long voice message. He asked Wordsmith to send out a search Team for Xavier- maybe he can be part of it if Wordsmith decides it is right. He shared all the information he knew - sent a picture of the photo he had of Xavier, told him where they met him-

How come this always happens at night?

Vyncent scoffed. Stop complaining and look for him!!!

Ok boss

Vyncent was gripping his phone tight. Everyone was always on edge. It's a stupid case – what can you even do about an opponent that seems invisible, intractable? Vyncent had to prevent himself from biting deep into his phone.

He was pacing around. He thought about texting Dakota, but he wasn't in the mood. He thought about making something to eat but it felt like there was no space in his body for food. All he felt was this sensation from head to toe, something that made him grit his teeth and tense his jaw and clench his fist. 

Vyncent didn't know why he was so angry.

He was stewing in it for probably two hours, before his phone dinged again, pulling him out of his spiral.

It wasn't Wordsmith like he hoped it was.

Hey, The message said. He watched as William was typing. Wanna hang out? 

Vyncent looked at the clock. 10PM. Like, right now?

If you like.

Vyncent got up, heart still angrily beating and he stumbled over to his wardrobe. He stared at his nice jeans for a moment, touching the fabric with a scrunched nose. He went back over to his phone, typing slowly. Deleting, and then typing again.

What are we doing?

I know a nice spot, the message sat, one, two seconds. Dress warm

Vyncent sighed in relief. He picked up some trousers, brown with large pockets on either side, and his favorite shirt – it used to have text written on it, but most of it was rubbed off from washing it, and all that remained was an ominous KNIFE . He mostly only wore it for quick grocery trips, or sitting at home. But it seemed reasonable for this, whatever William was planning.

Where do we meet? He pulled a jacket over, put his shoes on – he didn't even need to take a bag, the pockets on his trousers large enough to fit his keys and phone.

Remember where we separated after the quesadillas? My apartment

I remember

Meet me there

Vyncent picked up his bike helmet, closed the door behind him where it slammed shut too loudly, and starting jogging down the stairs. He was mad. Or, most of all, he was upset. Xavier was a life line, and he managed to fumble it. Whoever was behind this, managed to push on before him. He was sure of it.

On my way

The air was whipping along Vyncent's jacket, his hands comfortably holding onto the handles of his bike.

William was holding onto his waist, scooted closer than usual to combat the icy night air. 

“At the next crossroads, you go left!” William yelled, trying to be louder than the bike.

“But we'd leave the city?”

“That's the plan!”

Vyncent followed the route. He had no idea where they were going – even as they saw the sign telling them that they were exiting the city, William still just told him which street to drive into.

“There's a small road off to the right, in about… half a mile. It's hard to see.”

Vyncent slowed down, courtesy of no other cars being around him, and kept his eyes open for that road.

Then he stopped, in the middle of the street. “You mean that?” He pointed at the dirt road, disappearing into the dark forest that was lining both sides of the street. William nodded against his back, the helmet clunky. “Alright…”

It took a moment, and the road was uneven and William was holding tighter onto him – but finally, the trees and the road cleared up, into a big open space.

“It's a nice camping spot. But I think it's abandoned. I haven't seen anyone here in a long time.”

Vyncent held the bike steady as William hopped off. “Why are we here?”

“To camp!” William must've seen the expression on Vyncent's face. “Kidding. I like to come here every now and again. It's my little secret place.”

“Really?”

“It's nice. Reconnecting with nature and everything…”

Vyncent followed him as he walked towards the center of the site. He felt himself scratching his hand before he even realized that it was itchy.

“There's mosquitoes here…”

“You're a tough guy, aren't you?” William turned around, facing him – he held the lapels of Vyncent's jacket, straightening them out and grinning widely. “I'm gonna get a fire started. We'll be fine then.”

“And how do we start a fire?”

William kneeled down at something that Vyncent quickly recognized that it was a fire pit. “I've gotten really efficient at it.” He was fiddling with something, maybe a lighter, Vyncent presumed, and it first started as a small fire, nothing that would help them much, before William gradually started adding wood that was gathered next to it. 

It took a while, and Vyncent was standing there with his hands in his pockets, waiting as the fire grew larger and larger – but after less than ten minutes, there was a sizable fire going on, successfully warming Vyncent and scaring away the insects.

“I have a picnic blanket in my bag.” William pointed over his shoulder to his bag. “If you want we can sit or lay down.”

Vyncent walked over to the bag, getting out the blanket and spreading it open close to the fire. When William felt like the fire was good enough, he joined Vyncent, sitting down with his legs crossed.

A moment later, he relaxed a little, leaning against Vyncent's side.

“Thanks for coming.”

Vyncent was going to reply with something similar, but because William was so close- “You should stop smoking. The smell is so strong.”

William stuttered, and for a moment he did almost angrily so. “I mean- it's not- it's not from smoking. I just wear this jacket when I go out here. With the fire.”

“Ah.” That made more sense. “Seriously, do you let it cook over the fire?” He sniffed William's shoulder, who shoved him off with a laugh. “I mean it!”

“If you say so.”

For a moment they just sat there, sharing warmth between them. The fire cackled in a satisfying way.

“...I have something.”

William sat upright, leaning over to his backpack. He got out a plastic pack that Vyncent quickly recognized as marshmallows, and two metal skewers. “Do you want one?”

“I've… never had.”

“What?! How?”

Partly because Vyncent had only been here for a few years, and they certainly didn't have marshmallows in Fauna – but also because they simply didn't seem appetizing. The plain ones, that is. The ones roasted over a fire in movies always enticed Vyncent in ways he could never satisfy. “I don't really go camping.”

“I mean, you could probably roast them over a candle fire.”

Vyncent frowned. A door was opened to him. “I'll see if they taste good.”

“They really do. If you like sugar.” William put one on either skewer, and handed one to Vyncent. “Now don't hold it too close to the fire, or else it will just burn.”

Vyncent nodded, serious. They both held it over the flame, and William let his gaze wander, mostly sticking onto Vyncent. He, on the other hand, was obsessively staring at his s'more. When he saw that it was a little brown, he showed it off to William.

“You can try. But I'm gonna let mine get a little more brown.”

Vyncent was impatient. He lifted it to his mouth, blew cold air on it, and carefully bit on a small corner. 

The marshmallow stretched as he bit it off, the consistency had a nice viscosity, and it tasted comfortingly nice as it hit his tongue.

“I like it.”

“You can keep it over the flame a little longer, if you want.”

Vyncent did as William suggested. He felt a little more comfortable leaving the marshmallow cook without his constant supervision.

“Why'd you call me so suddenly?”

“Hm?” William looked at him. “What do you mean.”

“I mean, today. For this. It came out of nowhere, basically.”

His friend tensed a little. Vyncent assumed that maybe he was just being adventurous, just wanted to do something, maybe he felt lonely. But his reaction seemed to imply more.

“I had a rough day.” He lifted his marshmallow to his face, blowing on it before staring off into the fire, talking quietly. “I needed a distraction. I was thinking about texting you for an hour, probably.”

He was eating thoughtfully. Vyncent followed, letting the silence sit for a moment.

“What happened today?”

William shrugged. “Weird stuff. Don't worry about it.”

“Okay.” 

He was curious. Always curious. But William didn't seem to want to talk about it.

They didn't talk then, for probably a good ten minutes. Vyncent really liked the marshmallows, and William showed him that he could stack multiple onto the skewer. So for a while, Vyncent was occupied with that.

It was nice to be out here. It was different from the city, and he didn't realize how much he missed sitting in nature. The parks they had were big and green and nice, but it wasn't quite the same. He missed wandering into some woods and coming out with a better idea of the place – he missed exploring hills and valleys and caves and fields. Nobody around him but birdsong and the ominous rustling of grass.

“Vyncent.”

“Hm?”

“Look at me.”

William was so close – much closer than a person should be. From this close, Vyncent could see everything. Every lash, every little nick and scar, every little beauty mark… 

And then William's hand was on his chin, holding his jaw, the grip light but present. Suddenly it was a chore to breathe. In and out and in and out, and if Vyncent didn't think about it, he stopped to breathe.

But William wasn't doing anything. Mouth half open like he was going to ask a stupid question, and face red, eyes wide, like he didn't even expect himself to do this. Here, with their foreheads pressed together, with their breaths mingling in between them-

Vyncent put a hand on William's neck, and pushed just the slightest bit- 

And their lips connected softly.

William made a noise. Small and squeaky, like he didn't expect Vyncent to actually make the step he was obviously waiting for him to take. And when Vyncent squinted, just a little, he could see William's eyes wide open. 

His hand fell from his chin, landing on Vyncent's lap, bracing himself of his thigh. He used it to press himself up, further into Vyncent's space, as if their faces weren't already mashed together.

Vyncent retreated. It was swimming in his head, what he did, before the image cleared – the word fell.

William lifted his fingers to his lips. “You… kissed me.”

“You wanted me to.”

“I- yes.” He pressed so lightly on his mouth, as though he didn't want to disrupt the aftertaste. He looked a little more rosy now, his eyes a little bigger. “You did too?”

“I guess so.” Vyncent stared at his hand. He felt the motion of lifting it to William's neck, and he he imagined brushing his thumb against William's hair. 

William laughed, short and brash, and high-pitched. “You guess?”

“I wasn't thinking.” He balled his hand into a first.

“You're not exactly, ha…” There was still laughter in his voice, and it died off as he kept talking. “Not exactly filling me with confidence.”

“...” Vyncent bit his lip for a moment, thinking what to do. “How does this work, William?”

“What, kissing? You were doing it pretty well already.”

“No- no, not kissing.” He sighed, his forehead pushed into his hand. “It doesn't stop there, right? What do you mean, what are you implying with this? Y'know?”

“I…” He was looking away, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I don't know.”

“Confidence inspiring.” 

It made William laugh again, this time a little calmer. “Look. I like you. You look out for me, you like spending time with me. I appreciate that. And if it's mutual- I don't mind if we let more than just our minds wander.”

Vyncent's mouth set into a line. “How long have you felt like this?”

He still won't look at him. He had this smile on his face, but it looked almost defeated. “When we first met I was sceptical of you. But I think once that all melted away I felt something really appreciative for you. And then it just grew. I just feel like you care for me but- I don't want to assume. I like being cared for. I like you.”

“Thanks,” Vyncent said, almost out of instinct. He caught himself, mouth opening in an attempt to come up with something better. “I can't really say anything like this. I don't know how to say stuff like this.”

Finally, William was looking at him again. “Do you feel the same?”

“I don't know. Not exactly.”

“You kissed me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Do you still want to?”

They both turned towards each other. Arms relaxed by their sides. Vyncent blinked slowly, regarding William. It didn't seem like a smart idea. Something that would make Wordsmith sigh deeply. Something that would make Dakota give him that look like he was confused about what he was doing. And yet? “I want to.”

“You can.”

Vyncent's hand was carefully placed on William's shoulder, and this time the kiss felt a lot less natural – Vyncent felt a lot more aware of himself, leaning in and closing his eyes. William stopped him shortly before their lips connected, nose to nose.

“You're tense.”

Vyncent rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. “Sorry, man.”

“Come on. Take a deep breath in. And then out.”

Vyncent followed. In, and then out. Easy enough. He felt a little less strung up.

“Another one?”

It didn't hurt- so Vyncent did it again. He went slowly, his lungs filling up with air, mindful and careful of it. And then when his lungs were full, and he was just about to expel it all, William pressed their mouths together.

Vyncent would've probably been completely silent, if it weren't for the air in his throat, pushing out with surprised noises every time they briefly separated. The air was making Vyncent lightheaded, and he let William lead the kiss for a bit.

It was nice. Nicer than expected. By a long shot. 

This time it was William's hand on the back of his head. Vyncent didn't think he'd ever find himself in a situation like that, but thinking about it, this was what it had been leading to for a while. Somewhere, something in his mind clicked.

William's cold lips on him made sense. His other hand fisting into the front of his shirt, desperate for connection, desperate for Vyncent to make it count, it made sense. William separating, just to press quick, fleeting kisses against his lips, made sense.

What didn't make sense, was William stilling against him, a broken whine sitting in his throat. He slid off to plant his face into Vyncent's shoulder, and those whines turned into uglier sounds, quiet sobs turning into open mouthed coughing, and back into sobs.

Vyncent could only wrap his arms around him, brushing his hands over his back in what he hoped was grounding.

“This is going too far…” William hiccuped.

Vyncent froze. “Me?”

“No… you're perfect. I mean- god. Vyncent, I'm just… that stuff with my brother. It's too much for me.”

Vyncent frowned. It was strange to bring up now, and especially so many months later. But it's not like Vyncent would understand. “Yeah.”

“You don't get it.”

“I really don't. I'm here for you.”

William laughed, all tears and hysteria. “Aren't you sweet-” Words laced in sarcasm.

“Sorry. I wish I could be better.”

“Oh god.” Sarcasm, laughter, it was all gone in an instant. It was grief that filled the air now. “I'm sorry. You're perfect, Vyncent. I don't mean to be like that.”

“...Do you want me to drive you home?”

“Not yet.” He kept holding onto Vyncent, and slowly leaning back. His hands were tightly fisted in his jacket as he pulled him to lay down together, practically carrying Vyncent's entire weight on his body. “Stay with me.”

“I will, if you want me to.”

“Kiss me again.” He asked, softer. Almost pleading.

It was easy to comply now – maybe because it felt more like a command, and Vyncent was used to it as a hero. But he also felt like he was getting the hang of it. 

William's lips were wet now, and every word nasal as he sniffed. 

“You're warmer than me,” William breathed against his lips.

“Just a little.” 

“Stay.”

“I already said I would.”

William's hands still dug too tightly into his clothes. It was easy to get lost, easy to forget himself in the action. His heart beat high and his head felt like a gong being hit over and over again, leaving him reeling and dizzy, but in such a good way that he wanted to hold his breath forever to keep feeling it.

It was just when he felt like he was short of seeing black spots in his vision, that he scooted around to lay next to William, his head resting on William's shoulder. He felt so tired all of a sudden, he could fall asleep immediately.

It didn't help when William's fingers were carefully pressing into his scalp, massaging the sensitive skin there. Vyncent didn't know how long it took, until his eyes were falling shut.

It's been a while since he slept outside. The last time was probably on Fauna. And that thought, being so short of falling asleep – he could swear he heard the Greats in his head humming a melody together, something his mother used to sing. 

“Good night.” He heard, just before he fell into a comfortable sleep.

Chapter Text

Vyncent felt himself walking through a hallway.

It was dark around him, he could barely make out the walls that made this hallway, how far it stretched, or even if it ended at all. His steps oscillated between being so silent that he could sneak up on anyone, and boomingly loud and haunting.

There was something heavy in his hand, yet he never looked down. Whatever it was, he knew what he was doing. 

He heard something like breathing, and his ears strained. Deep inside, he could feel that whatever he was doing was bad. Not quite convinced of it, but there was this seed of doubt…

He sped up, as if he set his mark somewhere. Vyncent didn't have a clue on what – and as things cleared up before him, he rather thought on who. A frantic silhouette before him, someone that tripped and fell, crawling forward as they tried getting up. 

Vyncent’s hands tightened. They raised over his head, an axe following, and the person was at his feet now, not even aware of his presence, and-

“Vyncent?”

He blinked his eyes open. Perched over him was William, carefully shaking his arm. The image he just saw receded, and almost completely disappeared, if he hadn’t held onto it.

The bonfire behind him was very small, but still cracked and burned, the warmth hitting Vyncent immediately, and the smoke was lifting up behind William. He watched it disappear into the sky, and he felt the dryness in his eyes like a stabbing sensation.

“Are you okay?”

“...” He turned away from the fire to get a proper, clean breath in. “Yeah.” There was the taste of smoke reaching the back of his throat, and his nostrils felt a little sensitive, like he might have breathed in a little too much of it during his sleep. “How late is it?” He asked groggily.

“It's around three.”

Three. Vyncent slept about four hours. He didn’t even know he could sleep this peacefully outside – sure, he used to do it a lot as a kid, but it’d usually be during the day, and also in places he knew, and-

“Don’t worry,” William smiled a little. “The most dangerous animal around here are dragonflies.”

Vyncent sniffed. “Is there a lake around here?”

“Yeah. Just a bit further out.” William’s hand was on his forehead, slowly pushing Vyncent’s hair away. “Maybe on another day, on a really warm night, we could go there…”

It’s been such a long time since Vyncent went out swimming. There was a longing pain in his chest almost immediately, remembering floating on a lake, his ears underwater and the world tolerably quiet. There were public pools around here, but everytime Vyncent got a glimpse of them, smelled the artificially cleaned water, he just got nauseous. He didn’t know there was a lake so close to where he lived. Probably half an hour from home. 

“I’d love to.”

William smiled slightly. In general, he seemed weirdly satisfied. “I’m glad you say that. And I know things may be strange now, since there’s something to navigate…”

Vyncent sat, holding a hand up. “Let’s not have this conversation at three in the morning.”

There was a short laugh coming from William. “You’re right.”

“I- I need to go home. I have work tomorrow. Today. Actually, in less than three hours.”

“Oh.”

“But- hey. Thanks for taking me out here. I didn’t realize how much I missed this.”

William tilted his head. “Are you from somewhere more rural?”

“Yeah. Something like it.” He slowly stood up, looking at the bonfire, getting smaller and smaller. He could probably kick it out at this point. “I’ll take you home, alright?”

William held onto him the entire ride, like he always had. But his touch was so much more present now – Vyncent could feel himself zeroing in on it, the warmth that curled around those places, the outline of every finger. And then he thought how cold his back felt – hesitantly pulling William closer, who happily seated himself closer to Vyncent. 

Their helmets clunked together. William's chest shook with a short, muted laugh.

When he stood at William's door, Vyncent didn't know what to do. William stood there, paused and hands clasped, smiling in that shy way of his. There was an air of expectation. 

William handed him the helmet back. Vyncent set it on his bike.

“Look, if this were a movie, this is where you would kiss me.” 

Vyncent appreciated that he put it so plainly. “Ah.”

“But this isn't a movie. So you can do whatever you want.”

Vyncent stood completely still. 

If it were anyone else on that doorstep, it would've been great advice, but Vyncent had to take a moment to think about what he wanted. And then his mind wandered. Looking at William, who stood patiently with his hands clasped together. He was looking at Vyncent not with something penetrating and demanding, but rather neutral curiosity. He wanted to know too- anticipation, Vyncent thought.

And then he wondered how long William would wait. If they could stand here all night, as Vyncent had to think and think what to do. Would his patience wear thin? Some self-sabotaging part of Vyncent wanted to find out.

Instead, he gingerly put his hand on William's face, and softly pressed his lips against his cheek. William's hand raised to lay over the one on his face. It was supposed to be short, and sweet, and Vyncent was supposed to pull away and wave.

With his lips still pressed against his cheek, Vyncent could feel William grin. And maybe it was just that- but Vyncent found himself overcome with affection, changing his position and kissing William's smiling lips.

William wasn't kissing back, his smile growing even bigger, and a laugh bubbling in his throat. He threw his hands around Vyncent's shoulders, and really tried his hardest to relax his lips into the kiss, but he always snapped back into the smile, the laugh coming forth in small bursts.

“Sorry, sorry, ha-” he was still smiling when he pressed his face into Vyncent's shoulder, but slowly, it grew softer. “Vyncent.”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say your name.”

“Don't… don't get too sappy.” Vyncent felt infected. He was bad at keeping the smile off his own face. 

“Hey.” William faced Vyncent, and his face was mostly relaxed now. “Kiss me again.”

Vyncent obliged, and this time it worked, their noses bumping together, but quickly arranged into something natural. It was still a strange thing to Vyncent, who didn't know how this went, but their lips slotted together so perfectly that it couldn't be anything but right.

It took a minute before William took a step back, his lips still hanging onto Vyncent's – and it seemed to take a lot of will power to pull away. “You should drive home. So you can change before you go to work.”

Vyncent closed his eyes. “...Maybe I can call in sick.”

“I'd love for you to stay. Really. But we can meet later this week again. Okay?”

William was right. “Okay.”

His face was rosy, just slightly illuminated by the motion-detector light by the front door. His lips were pinker from kissing, and Vyncent forced his eyes off of them. “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Vyncent.”

He finally turned around and put his helmet back on. “You too.”

It was stiff. Obvious that both of them wanted to extend the moment. But then Vyncent's leg was over the bike, and he positioned it right, and William stood there the entire time until he was revving it up and turning to wave-

And through his mirror he could see that William only opened the door once he turned a corner.

Vyncent was humming something the entire drive back.

It was between feeling light, his chest bursting with something he couldn't understand- and trying to keep his mind of the Greats, who weren't particularly loud, but their emotions were exploding within him. 

It was hard to grasp what exactly, but between this feeling like being cooed at like you would a baby or a cat, there was this intense feeling of outrage. Vyncent couldn't read too much into it, since he was actively ignoring it. It only made the feeling more urgent, which only made him ignore it harder.

He drove into his driveway, he parked his bike.

It all stopped. 

Vyncent was still quietly humming, when his gaze was set to the entrance to his apartment.

Someone was sitting at the step there, quickly rising to their feet when Vyncent locked eyes.

“Dakota?”

He smiled, although it didn't entirely reach his eyes. “Hi.”

Vyncent stared at him in confusion. “Um… you need a carpool or what?” He opened the front door into the stairwell, and motioned for Dakota to step in.

When they talked, their voices echoed. “No, no, I- I actually wanted to talk to you before work, but when I rang the bell no one turned up. So I waited for you here.”

“At… almost 4 AM? I could've just been sleeping.”

Dakota turned, walking backwards up the stairs. “But I was right, wasn't I?”

Vyncent quickly motioned for him to stop, pointing at the door to his apartment. “You caught me on your lucky day. I'm usually never out like this.”

Dakota rubbed his nose in satisfaction. 

The door to his apartment opened, and Vyncent walked in, kicking off his shoes. Dakota followed, looking down at his own feet. He didn't take them off, but didn't walk any further into the apartment. 

His gaze did curiously sweep over anything he could see. Which was most of his apartment. His kitchen, dining table, and living room.

“So, what are you really here for?”

“Do you know William’s address?” He meekly asked, which was very unlike Dakota. He was leaning against the front door, which made it click shut.

“Yeah. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yeah. I want to… talk.” He looked down, his eyebrows curling up as if he was upset about something. Or sad. Vyncent could guess for hours what that would be, but he couldn't get it right.

“It’s, um, close to the college campus. I can show you if you put the map on your phone.”

Dakota looked more and more upset- guilty- whatever- as he did as Vyncent asked, and Vyncent could quickly pin-point William’s location.

“Wordsmith and his team found Xavier, by the way.” Dakota swallowed dryly, saving the address on his app. “I said I’d come here to tell you, that’s why he hasn’t.”

“Really?!” Vyncent couldn’t help the smile, leaning forward. “And?”

“He's alive. Thankfully.”

“...”

“But he won’t talk to anyone. Vyncent, look…” Dakota slowly pushed himself off the door, and it was so strange for Dakota to stay serious for so long. “I think it’s William.”

Vyncent’s smile disappeared. “...It's William, what?”

“The perpetrator. I've been going over it, and there's just a lot that points towards him.”

“The proof is situational-’

Irritation appeared on Dakota's face. “We only have situational proof! Look- please. You were on board with it yesterday!”

“I was on board that there were a few strange things. Not that it's William.”

“You agreed that there is a possibility-”

Vyncent stayed cold. “I don't think so anymore.”

“Are you-” Dakota was red in the face, as if he was mad- but a moment later, a deep breath later, he was much calmer. “I googled his name. And there was only one picture of him on this, college or job website. But when I showed it to Xavier-” His bottom lip was trembling. This time, Vyncent didn't have to think what it could be. It wasn't sadness, it was clearly held back anger. “I don't know a lot. I don't know much at all but I know when a person is scared. Xavier was really scared, seeing that picture. And he wouldn't talk, but I know he recognized him.”

“...” Vyncent crossed his arms. “You're right about one thing. You don't know anything at all.”

Vyncent couldn't even think as Dakota was charging at him – as he was slammed into a wall, the air pushed from his lungs, he felt the panic rise in his body, his eyes jumping nervously over Dakota’s face.

His expression was this blazing hot anger, red in the cheeks and ghostly pale everywhere else. His teeth were so gritted that it seemed like he was trying to bite through them. 

“What is your fucking issue?!” Dakota slammed him into the wall once. “What's your problem with me? What did I ever do to you?” 

Vyncent's voice was too quiet, his heart beating in his throat. “Don't touch me.”

“Don't- do I disgust you or something? You clearly don't treat me like you treat others, so- so what-”

“Don't touch me!” He pushed Dakota off of him, who didn't stumble back, but dropped his arms.

“You act like I did something to you!”

Vyncent put his hands where Dakota had them a moment earlier, feeling the crumpled fabric and this strange heat that he was mostly just imagining. “You didn't,” he spoke, breathless, eyes unfocused. “You are infuriating, that's enough.”

“...I-” Dakota’s voice was wavering now, this burst of anger flowing into something else.

When Vyncent's eyes refocused, it was just in time to Dakota grab him once again, quickly – and the last thing he saw for a few seconds was Dakota's head throwing itself against his, and a terrible pain that had him doubling over for a minute.

He was holding his eye, the pain pulsing acutely. It was going to leave a bruise.

“Sorry, Virion.” Dakota still sounded heated, but as though he was trying to keep it under control. “You’re acting stupid. I'm going to do what's right. With or without you.”

And because his eyes were screwed shut, he only heard the door close. He let out a pained moan, and his hand grabbed onto the door knob. He was ready- to storm out after Dakota, to follow him and give him more than just an earful- a handful, really, Vyncent's fists were itching for a brawl now.

But with reason taking over, his hand dropped. He stood up straight, and walked over to his freezer instead.

Stupid Dakota. Stupid impulsiveness, or unwillingness to hear Vyncent out.

He got out a small pack of peas, and wrapped it in a kitchen towel. He collapsed against his couch.

Vyncent held the cold pack against his eye. His body relaxed into the couch, sinking in further and further, and he let out this long sigh.

Everything was weird and jumbled up, and he was sure it wasn't just because Dakota bashed a concussion into his head. And also not just from breathing in all that smoke next to the bonfire.

He should probably go after Dakota. He shouldn't make him go alone, and he shouldn't let him make a decision that would reflect badly on Vyncent. But the pack on his eye was too nice to leave now.

His neck cranked as he laid it against the backrest, looking at the ceiling.

“He's an idiot, right? He's being stupid?”

It's been a while since he talked to the Greats. Or even summoned them. He started disliking it for some time now, even though the loss of control never bothered him before. He had an iron tight grip on it now, and would spend hours stewing in anger if anyone ever took over without him allowing it. Since he seemed so upset over it, the Greats mostly left him up to the devices.

At his question, it came mostly back with unintelligible murmuring. He stayed frozen for a moment, waiting for anything else. 

After a pregnant pause, he got a clear thought cutting through the silence.

Go over the facts of the case again.

Vyncent held his breath. This was what their collective opinion was.

As much as he liked to complain about them, they were the Greats for a reason. Intelligent to a good degree, but they especially had experience and tactics. He breathed out, dropping the pea pack from his eye, his hand still by his side.

What were the facts? He thought about all the strange things he noticed – no sign of forced entry. Xavier's testimony. David as an outlier.

There was a strange connection to be made… the burnt paper in Overlord's office. If the information on it wasn't crucial, then why was it burned?

Think different.

Think different. Vyncent bit his lip. So it wasn't the information that was important or had to be burned. It was-

Xavier spoke about smoke. Smoke covering the entire room to the point he couldn't make out the perpetrators face. 

(Bonfire, William's jacket- “I’ve gotten really efficient at it.” )

There was something, but nothing exact, nothing concrete. He paused for a moment, letting the silence of the world wash over him. He tuned back into his head.

For a moment, there was nothing. Contemplative. 

Check your shoes.

Vyncent slowly stood. His legs felt weak, and he wasn't quite sure why. When he walked to where he quickly kicked off his shoes, he first didn’t notice much. Maybe the Greats hijacked each other and got upset about the mess. But he kneeled down, slowly picking them up.

They were pretty dirty. The campside had slightly wet mud, and it stuck stubbornly to the soles. He rubbed them against the mat in front of his door, and watched as they left behind a long streak, a bright orange color-

It struck him.

His memory was betraying him, but not where it mattered – the name of the victim didn’t come naturally, but the crime scene did. Kneeling at a welcome mat with Dakota. 

(“It’s not dirt from around here. The dirt we have in the parks here is super dark.”)

High in iron was the only remark from the Greats. Vyncent laughed as if it was funny – but he felt truly crazy for a moment.

(“I like to come here every now and again. It's my little secret place.”)

“I’m-” He was still on the floor, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m going after Dakota. God.”

Before he put on the shoes and jackets he wore before, he sent a message Dakota’s way, asking him if he was going to William. To please reply, since this is urgent, and Vyncent didn’t want to fight anymore.

Even as he was downstairs, swinging on his motorcycle, he didn’t get a response. He bit his lip hard as he put his helmet on and almost made himself bleed.

At this hour he’d usually appreciate the emptiness of the streets in this calming way, peace folding over his mind like a warm blanket, but this time it was a faint thought in his mind to be thankful he could drive where he needed to be quickly.

He drifted at corners he should be more careful at, and for once he cursed the fact that Dakota had super speed. This would be a lot less stressful if he could've just caught up to him and reasoned with him on his bike.

He memorized the route to William's place, and when he drove onto the small path to the apartment, he basically jumped off his bike.

He winced as he heard it fall onto his side with this painful clunking noise, something that sounded like plastic breaking, but he had the feeling like there was no time to lose. 

Maybe, part of him hoped, it was all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe he'd come up there, and Dakota and William would be having a calm conversation. Maybe William would laugh about something Dakota said.

The front door was locked. He looked under the doormat, but obviously, for once he was faced with people who had an ounce of respect for their home.

So he did the next best thing. He grabbed a broom he located leaning against the wall, and broke the milky view window with the handle of it. From there, he easily reached through and opened it from the inside.

He walked over the glass shards, and they crunched beneath his soles. He ran up the first set of stairs, using his phone screen to light up his sight, and to see what the name on the doorbell said. But none of it was Wisp. He ran further up.

Here, though, there was no need to check-

A door was standing open, and the faintest smell of smoke wafted out of it. Vyncent's mouth felt dry.

This was it.

Just- barely an hour ago, he was standing in front of the door downstairs, thinking about William's smile, how he couldn't get it off his face. He wanted to stay there, wanted to call in sick and spend the day with William. As long as he could… almost as if his gut knew it was the last day he was going to get with him.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the desperate pumping of his heart. The door didn't make a sound as he opened it.

The apartment had a similar layout to his own – entering into the living room, he could see a small dining table – just the kitchen was hidden, the hint of a kitchenette in the corner of his eye. There were a few candles on the table, producing much more smoke than should be possible, but no human soul to follow.

He snuck across the floor, footsteps near-silent – if it weren't for the tiny shards of glass sticking to his muddy shoes, crunching every time he stepped on them, it would've been impossible to hear him. His teeth grit.

He didn't want to call out, neither to William nor to Dakota. 

He stepped past the couch, intending to walk into the hallway he could see, but movement caught in the corner of his eye.

He snapped his head over, the space behind the couch that he wouldn't see from the entrance, seeing concerningly familiar shoes sticking out behind it - and immediately dropped down to his knees.

The body that laid there was immobile, and Vyncent considered the worst. Slowly, breath being held, teeth gritting together like he was trying to bite through them – he turned that body around.

“Dakota.” He searched for a pulse, his hands shaky. The pulse was found so much quicker than he thought he could, loud and fast. Faster than he thought was normal. “Dakota, are you-”

His eyes blinked open. His arms moved, just a little.

Vyncent dragged Dakota onto his lap, frantically trying to get into his direct line of sight. His eyes were unfocused, rolling in his head, but once they landed on Vyncent, they stuck.

“Dakota, hey-” he put his hand on his cheek, gentle and light. “You're here, I'm here.”

“Vynce.” Dakota put his hand over his. “Vyncent.”

“It's me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being an asshole, Dakota, just try to get up for me, okay?”

“Asshole,” he muttered, almost questioningly. “It's you.”

“I know-

“You were here.”

Vyncent stopped. “I… am here.”

Dakota's eyes held onto Vyncent's. “Before- I got in here. And you were there. You were talking to me. But I knew it couldn't have been you.” He held onto Vyncent, but he didn't attempt to get up. 

“How?” 

It was very possible that Dakota had a concussion, maybe with the fall – whatever caused him to fall like that. 

But instead of saying more, Dakota's eyes widened. 

Not at Vyncent, but at something behind him.

“This is unfortunate.”

The voice was unexpected. Unsettled, Vyncent slowly turned towards it, sliding Dakota off his lap as he shielded his body.

“It's not how I expected things to go.”

David was staring down at Vyncent. His eyes were cold, this unnerving glare that didn't quite see Vyncent, but rather through him.

Vyncent couldn't believe his eyes.

“You- “ Vyncent didn't have his sword with him. He bit down, focusing on Alphonse, if need be. “You're supposed to be in prison!”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Things happen.”

It should've been a terrible realization – it should've filled Vyncent with incredible anger, but something about it just made him feel relieved. His heart pumped with something he couldn't quite place.

It's not William, then- of course it couldn't be William, of course he would just be caught in the crossfire, that was why he seemed suspicious, not because he was the perpetrator himself-

His hand raised as if he wanted to point at David. 

But instead, he suddenly felt the weight of cold metal in his hand, materializing out of nowhere – the sensation was unfamiliar for a second, since he hadn't utilized this for so long, but it hit him a moment later as he felt his finger on a trigger, shooting to aim directly at David.

David's face took on one of shock as the bullet passed through him – through him, leaving a gaping hole in its wake – before he exploded into smoke, completely dispersing.

“Stop being stupid, boy.” Vyncent's mouth moved without his say-so, and he recognized the gruff intonation as Ram. “That William is obviously playing with you.”

The gun dropped, and on impact, it dematerialized into nothingness. Vyncent tried not to snarl in anger but he felt that he had complete control over himself again. Nowadays they only took over if they thought they really needed to. 

He instead stared at the space where David stood a moment before. Stupid hopefulness. Rather, stupid naivete.

He couldn't even feel angry as William appeared in the doorway, his hand brushing over the bullet mark Ram just left next to it.

“Vyncent…” He locked eyes. His eyebrows were turned upwards, his eyes big – a doe in headlights. “I was giving you an easy out.”

“What the hell are you doing!” William- it was William. William who smiled and laughed and kissed him. Who drank his coffee with him, who showed him a place in nature to share. “Why are you doing this?” He couldn't stand his voice in that moment, whining, petulant. Why are you doing this to me.

“I didn't want to hurt you, Vyncent.” His voice was careful as he approached. “I didn't want you to find out.” He raised his hand, and the smoke in the room stood at attention. Vyncent could only look around, his bottom lip trembling. “When you wake up tomorrow, this will all seem like it was just a bad nightmare.”

The next thing he saw was smoke, winding around him so tightly that he couldn't see anything else. He closed his eyes, gasping a dry sob as it made his head spin.

“Hey,” a voice said, muffled as if it was underwater. Vyncent looked over to his side where the smoke took on a much more physical form. He braced himself – it seemed like that mirage from before that could do some damage, if that was what attacked Dakota.

That didn't happen though. It formed the figure of a young person, sitting on a ledge and looking over at Vyncent. Their legs were kicking back and forth, and he wasn't really able to make their face out.

“I just don't think this could work. You're training so much and don't have any time for me, and then your vows… what I'm saying is. I'm breaking things off. I'm sorry, Alphonse.”

The image dispersed, and Vyncent was hit by outrage in his brain. Not his own, obviously, but he still felt it very faintly.

It didn't stop there.

The scene changed again, the smoke swirling, and Vyncent was coughing. There was the faintest outline of a kitchen, and then a woman standing in the middle of it, her hands on her hips.

This time Vyncent recognized her. This was Ram's wife.

“God, when will you understand?!” She sounded frustrated, like she just snapped. “Are you not paying attention to anything, or are you just being idealistic? You've seen the Sol boy – he hates his father! And if we were to have a child…” She sighed, her face burying in her hands. “He would resent you all the same. Either you choose to continue to protect the people, or you chose to become a father. You can't have both, Ram.”

Vyncent suppressed saying anything as the scene dissipated again, and he took a deep breath in – there was no smoke to swallow this time, but his lungs still protested. He'd have to spend a week in fresh mountain air to heal himself from this.

He had no idea what he was seeing or hearing – the fact that he was perceiving something that wasn't real was confusing enough, but none of it was even slightly familiar.

“Are these your memories?” Vyncent spit on the floor to get the taste of smoke out of his mouth. 

“What?”

A cacophony of YES immediately rang in Vyncent's head. He held the side of it, rubbing it as a headache set in. It immediately became background noise, though.

He had a little trouble, but in a moment he straightened up to stand.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” William's teeth were gritted and his fingers splayed a little. The smoke danced around, Vyncent's throat extremely dry as he breathed in another heap of them, and soon enough it drew another scene.

“I don't enjoy doing this.”

Vyncent's head snapped up. The image before him was of clear perfection – as if it was happening in the present.

His eyes met with those of his father.

“I don't really see what good it would do to explain myself to you.” He stepped forward, and Vyncent stepped back. He tripped over a floorboard, and landed on his knees, quickly shuffling back. His father brandished his sword. “You don't need to beg me for mercy.”

His back hit a wall. His father stopped before him, his sword pointed straight at his chest.

“My friend. Min. You need to understand - this is mercy.”

When he lifted the sword high above his head, Vyncent could only hold an arm in front of his face.

It didn't hurt like a sword slash. But it hurt. The pain rang through Vyncent's entire body, and he felt himself collapsing on the floor, heaving quick breaths.

With every breath he took, he'd hear more. His father, scolding him in that passive way, harsh words that were said so off-hand- and then it was Prime, the people Vyncent couldn't save, the fading warmth like handprints on his own skin, Wordsmith's grave voice – bad news, bad news – Dakota's sad face burned itself into his mind, and he found that he couldn't keep his eyes shut.

His father's betrayal was a constant in the back of it all, playing out audibly and visibly, over and over and over-

“Why are you doing this-” Vyncent's words were watery. “Why did you lie to me, why are you hurting me?”

“Vyncent…”

“Why did you kill them?”

“I think they're scum, Vyncent.” 

Looking up at William, where a moment before his father stood, it wasn't disgust or hatred that he felt. Looking up at William, he felt the fear of death.

“I think they should know that they've hurt people. They should feel the hurt they inflicted onto others.” 

William was approaching him, and slowly kneeling down next to Vyncent. “I just wish you'd understand my standpoint.”

Weak, weak William was holding him down. Vyncent was hurt already, and it was easy to just give in.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he said softly. “And your colleague wouldn't have been hurt if he didn't burst in here like a madman. Look, it’ll hurt for a bit. Maybe a week or two- but I’ll make you forget, and everything can go back to the way it was.”

Vyncent shook his head. “Don't hurt Dakota.”

“...”

The fire behind them crackled louder and suddenly all Vyncent could feel was the heat around him. He knew that with the next breath he took, he'd be thrown into another memory, or hallucination – he knew that he couldn't hold his breath forever, and he was only pushing out the inevitable.

But…

He put a hand carefully on William's neck- so gently that it couldn't possibly be seen as a threat. And then, when he took a deep, dizzying breath, he pulled William down to him.

He pried his mouth open with his other hand on his jaw, and then – like CPR, he thought, not a kiss – he pushed the smoke into his lungs.

He stayed like this, a strong hand still grabbing onto his neck to prevent him from getting out of his grasp. 

When he opened his eyes back up, it was the most vivid memory yet. William was still on top of him, coughing hard with smoke puffing out of his mouth.

“William!”

William was looking down at him with this angry expression, but at his name his eyes became glassy, immediately looking up at the source.

“Why are you just sitting there, go after her!”

David was wearing scrubs covered in something viscous – a scalpel in one hand that was dripping the same liquid.

William scrambled up with a syringe in his hand as quickly as he could, to run out of the doorway and follow whoever David was speaking about. Before Vyncnet could even get up, the scene changed on his own, William kneeling over a lifeless body.

Purple hair was tousled over her head. This was Cantrip.

He was moving her onto her back, sighing with relief and throwing the syringe off to the side. “Sorry. It's for the better.”

Like honey, it all moved into each other, and in place of Cantrip was David, and William did not look anywhere close to relieved. It kept changing. The scenery around them, the person laying on the floor, the expression on William's face-

Vyncent recognized them all as the victims of his case, the surroundings as the crime scenes he investigated. But William's expression, he could not recognize. From horror, to determination, to cold nothingness. His eyes were icy as they drifted down to his victim. 

Every memory Vyncent relieved seemed to have been something that cut deep, that no one would ever want to relive again – but he couldn't imagine that William felt any remorse from this. 

In the mirage, William started walking away, eyes set forward.

“I know that deep down you aren't like this.”

Both William and Vyncent snapped their heads over. Vyncent could still tell that it was the memory, but it was difficult now, everything moving into each other.

It was Dakota, leaning heavily against William's sofa, looking up at him.

“Like what?” William stared at him head-on. “I have these powers and I'm using them in a good way.”

“You're not the one who gets to decide that.” It was obvious that Dakota was weak – Vyncent didn't want to look as he saw tear streaks on his cheeks. But his voice was strong. “And if you were really so proud, you wouldn't be lying to Vyncent.”

William grit his teeth. “Don't talk about him.”

“Do what you want, William. Kill me, make me scared. I just regret that I didn't meet you sooner. You wouldn't be like this. We could've… been friends.”

The image fell just like that. It was like seeing double for a moment, the memory from a little earlier matching the present situation – the mirage of Dakota sitting up changing to his body on the floor, a phone tightly grasped in his hand.

Vyncent immediately pulled his shirt over his face, and ran over to Dakota. He was blinking slowly, like he was trying hard to stay awake. Vyncent turned his head to make sure William wasn't there to put a knife in his back.

He was not.

He was nowhere near him – instead, he laying was on the floor, holding his head as his body was slightly convulsing. The smoke was swirling around him, and everytime he gasped he just breathed in another mouthful. Probably reliving that same memory over and over and over again-

Not that Vyncent would know.

“We need to get out of here.” Vyncent prodded at Dakota, trying to lift him up. “Hold your breath when I say so.”

“It's fine.” Dakota's voice was so unnaturally quiet. He held his phone a little higher and wiggled it around. “Wordsmith is-”

On cue, the door was kicked in.

Two heroes that Vyncent didn't recognize, thanks to the gas masks covering their face were standing in the middle of the room, their arms up, ready to fight.

Vyncent scrunched his nose. He pointed over at William. “He's out of commission for now.”

The heroes arms lowered from their fighting stance. They looked a little confused.

“Oh.” One of them scratched their head, while the other walked over to William's twitching body. “Thanks.”

“No problem…” Vyncent bit the inside of his cheek.

He leaned forward, blowing out the candles.

The sun was rising.

Vyncent felt like he was a newborn that was breathing for the first time in months. Dakota was leaning heavily on his side, and seemed to think the same.

“Boys…” Wordsmith had his eyes closed, and a hand on his forehead.

Dakota was grinning. “We did great, huh?”

Exasperated, he sighed. “Yes. Good job. Now.” He seemed ready to burst into a lecture, but when he looked at Vyncent, he seemed to stop himself. His features softened a little. “Are you two hurt?”

“Just really, really tired.”

“My mind’s jumbled.” Vyncent replied quietly.

“I see.” They walked past Vyncent's bike, laying sadly on the ground next to the door. Wordsmith pulled a grimace. “I'll… call someone to get that to a repair shop.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“I'll call you two a cab, hm?”

“You don't need us to testify?” Dakota asked, and he seemed to feel much better in the fresh morning air, straightening off of Vyncent to walk on his own.

“That can wait. You two need to rest up.”

“Wait, um-” Vyncent was rubbing his arm. “I need a minute. If it's alright.”

Wordsmith shrugged, holding out his arm. “Do what you must.”

Vyncent quickly nodded, and walked on ahead. There was a commotion- a neighbor was standing outside, talking to one of the heroes, while four police cars were standing around the usually tranquil street. 

He saw one officer opening the back door, their hand shoving someone into the back seat, and Vyncent quickly jogged up to them.

“Wait, I-” 

The police officer raised his eyebrows.

William didn't turn around. He just froze.

“I need a moment to talk with the perpetrator. Right now.”

“And that reason is…?”

“Classified. He's cuffed, isn't he? And he'd never outrun DC.”

The police officer rolled his eyes, and stepped away. Vyncent had this feeling of nausea in his stomach, and for a moment he thought he might actually throw up.

William turned slowly, and there was no attempt at running. His hands were in the cuffs, and the cuffs were designed to repress powers – there was no ace up his sleeve now.

“I have nothing to say.” William looked at the floor.

“How did you even expect this to go, huh?” Vyncent's voice was forcibly quiet, but the emotion was clear. “I was investigating your case. You- you make me think that you like me. You kiss me and play with me and… how did you think it was going to end?”

William wasn't looking at him. He smiled, and it was just a little sardonic. “Maybe I was just too hopeful.”

“Hopeful.”

“I didn't make you think that I liked you. I didn't make you think anything. I just like you, and you figured it out.”

“Just… stop it.”

“You wanted to know, didn't you? I like you, we grew close. And it was that thing in the back of my mind. You'll find out, you will. You did. But until then, why shouldn't I indulge?”

“I don't understand you.” Vyncent wanted a real answer. Why did he think it was okay for him to kill people so violently? Why did he not just avoid Vyncent, why would he even keep contact with him? If he hadn't- he probably would've gotten away with it.

“You understand me better than anyone else ever has, Vyncent.”

“Don't say that.”

“It's how I feel.” And then, he cocked his head, his eyes half-lidded. “I'm going to prison, Vyncent.”

“I know.”

“It's up to you if we ever see each other again.”

“...I know.”

“So this may be the last time we see each other.”

“...”

The nagging feeling in his chest – when he looked at William, his heart still fluttered. And in a whiplash reaction, he felt disgusting for it.

But if he chose to never visit William, to never meet him again-

Vyncent looked around. But the other heroes were talking amongst each other, and the officers were trying to calm down one of William's neighbors. Dakota was sitting on the curb, staring blankly ahead. Everyone's back was turned.

He held onto William's shoulder and put one hand on his neck, and kissed him like he would die tomorrow and never kiss anyone again. While Vyncent had to bend down a little, William tiptoed into it. Obviously, his own hands were cuffed, so he couldn't do much but they still reached for Vyncent, holding onto the front of his shirt.

Their lips popped off each other's and William's were shiny with spit. He looked at him with searching eyes, the slow-setting despair already visible. 

“Visit me, won't you? I- I need to see you.”

Vyncent's face set, cold. He took a step back. 

“I'll wait for you,” William said with the desperation staining his voice.

“...Okay.” Vyncent couldn't manage more than that. He turned around and looked for Dakota. “Bye.”

He waved the police officer back over, who didn't even really look at Vyncent, likely still annoyed with him, but Vyncent didn't care much.

“Vyncent!”

Vyncent stopped, but didn't turn back.

“I just- thank you! Thank you for our time! I'll never regret talking to you-”

A car door slammed shut. Vyncent's face was all messed up, from sadness or anger or confusion, he'll never know. He couldn't look back or he'd start sobbing, or beating up that police car, and he didn't want to do either.

Instead he walked up to Dakota, and held out his hand. Dakota took it and pulled himself up.

They slowly walked down the street, the police cars to their back.

“You kissed him,” Dakota said.

Vyncent didn't reply for a long time. When he did, his voice was toneless. “You saw?”

He nodded. “So that's why it was so hard for you to believe that it was him.”

“I-” when would Vyncent stop feeling like he was about to throw up? “I'm sorry for doubting you. You were right.”

He could feel Dakota's eyes on him. “I'm sorry for giving you that black eye.”

“I deserved it.”

He could hear the smile in Dakota's voice. “If you say so.”

The commotion behind them became quieter and quieter, until it was completely silent. The birds sang joyfully, as if this was a day to be celebrated. 

Even though the months-long case finally closed, Vyncent could not feel happy at all.

“I don't know why he would do this to me.”

“...” The grass smelled fresh. The sun was warming the earth up. “He realized his power with his brother. And I think in his own way… he thought it'd be worse if he didn't use them to change something he thought was messed up.”

“But-” Vyncent aggressively rubbed at his eye. “He could've joined the heroes. He could've helped innocent people, instead of killing bad people. He could've- just not spoken to me.”

“I know.”

“I really like him.”

“...I know.”

“I…” Vyncent needed to get rid of that nausea. He held his breath for a moment, thinking about it. And as he did, he realized that the last thing he ate were those marshmallows. 

The grief of what happened hit him full-force, the memory of that camping site feeling like a twisting knife- but he was hungry too. And that was a lot easier to deal with.

He couldn't keep the quiver out of his voice as he spoke, but he didn't even care to conceal it anymore. “I have frozen pizza at home.” He sniffed, tears gathering in his eyes. “We could  bake them and- and eat together if you'd like.”

Dakota didn't need to be supported while walking anymore, but he still hooked his arm into Vyncent's. “I'd like that.”

Vyncent nodded, snot running down his nose with his tears. 

He hadn't cried like that since he first came to Prime. And it was this hesitant withheld hiccuping, that gradually grew to a full on sob, crying like a little kid that wasn't reprimanded for feeling hurt.

The sun was rising, and the morning was clear.

Vyncent held tighter onto his friend.