Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kim blinked groggily awake. His head pounded. Concrete pressed against his face, cold and rough. The room around him was black as pitch, and to make matters worse, he didn’t seem to have his glasses – on his face, or anywhere else.

Not that he could see anything in a room this dark, but the realization sent a spike of worry through his stomach.

But then he remembered how he got there, and suddenly his glasses seemed a lot less worrying.

He had just been walking home, no different than any other night besides being a little later than usual. Harry had gone home earlier (at Kim’s behest, when he’d complained of a migraine), and no doubt was eagerly awaiting his arrival.

Six punks jumped him out of an alleyway, and it was all Kim could do to put up a struggle, hoping someone would notice.

But no one did.

The punks wrecked his shit, tied him up, and the last thing he remembered was getting thrown in the trunk of a beat-up motor-carriage.

So here was where they brought him. A concrete basement? He sat up, and looked around to try and make anything out. It was utterly a sea of darkness, except for one solitary window near the ceiling. He couldn’t even see the sky outside, but moonlight streamed faintly through it, highlighting a spot on the opposite wall.

The highlighted wall looked like nothing more than a slightly lighter shade of grey, but Kim could just barely see a spot that was different about it, darker than its surroundings, so he stood up carefully, wary of his throbbing head, and walked slowly over. It was the most interesting thing around, anyway.

It was about waist height, and as he got closer, he saw it was oblong and protruding from the wall. He concluded it must be a doorknob, and disregarding the futility, reached forward to turn it. It was squishy.

Squishy?

On instinct he pulled his hand away, shaking it, but after a second curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out to touch it again. On second observation it wasn’t really squishy, per se, the material didn’t have too much give, but it was significantly more than a doorknob ought, which must have been what had thrown him. The top was tough, dense material, hard and unyielding, but the underside was much softer, similar to the texture of his favorite pair of -

“Can you stop touching my foot?”

- boots.

He stared down at the speaker, forgetting himself in his surprise.

“Pilot. My foot.”

Kim let go of it quickly, and stepped back. “You have my apologies, miss. I thought you were a doorknob,” which was the absolute dumbest thing he could possibly have said in a situation like that. He mentally pinched his nose, but didn’t say anything more, trying to avoid digging himself into a hole. He peered down at her, but all he could see was a misshapen lump of not-floor.

She rolled out of the light before he could try to see any more, and he could hear the shifting of clothes as she sat up. Feel her gaze as she peered through the darkness at him. “I’m sorry. A doorknob?”

“I can’t see in this light.” Or at all without his glasses, but she didn’t need to know that. “I couldn’t tell what it was, but I assumed your foot was a doorknob.”

“Oh. Right.” She lapsed into silence. He went to sit against the wall, some six feet away from her.

“So. . . do you know where we are?” Kim asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

“Some basement.”

Kim sighed. “Nothing else?”

“Nope.”

They f e ll into a longer silence, but after a moment she sighed too, and relented a little.

“You can’t see anything out of that window there – it’s up too high. Maybe we could see something in the morning, if you wanted to try climbing on each other, but I’d kind of rather not. I woke up in here a little less than two days ago. You were already here. The place is nothing but concrete, with a big trapdoor in the middle of the ceiling. They drop food down through the window a couple times a day – usually junk food and a little bottle of water. There’s a hole by the far wall to shit in. That’s about it, Pilot. We’re fucked down here.”

Kim didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you call me that?”

“Call you what – Pilot?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.”

“Because you’re dressed like one? It’s just how I’ve been referring to you in my head. I don’t know anything about you, but I know you look like a pilot. So you’re The Pilot.” Her tone was lighthearted – the nickname wasn’t intended to be mean, it was just a descriptor.

Kim couldn’t see a flaw in that reasoning. He considered introducing himself, but was concerned about giving his name to someone who could be anyone, while trapped with them in a basement. He hazarded the guess that she felt similarly, as she hadn’t offered up her own name either. Best to play it safe. “Naturally. Well, thank you for the tour, Doorknob. It was very educational.”

The newly-dubbed Doorknob snorted. “My pleasure.”

They went quiet again, but this time it felt much more compani onable.

* * *

T hree Days Earlier

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Sleep falls away like ripping off a warm blanket, exposing your tender flesh to the frigid air. Something’s wrong. Rise and shine!

SHIVERS ( Impossible: Failure) – The wind howled all night, trying to warn you.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Medium: Success) – Your neck twinges in protest as you sit up. You roll your head to stretch and it aches. You slept on it badly, but you’ll be fine.

INTERFACIN G (Trivial: Success) – You’re on the couch.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Easy: Success) – You slept on the couch. All night.

YOU – Remember the night before? Kim made you go home early when you mentioned your migraine. So you went and napped for a while, before waking up to wait for him on the couch. It took so long for him to get back, you fell asleep again.

PERCEPTION (Difficult: Failure) – The apartment is eerily quiet.

YOU – You get up, and start getting ready for work. Something’s still bugging you, like having a very simple word on the tip of your tongue. But you’re groggy, and your neck is still sore, so you leave that thought project for after you’ve washed up and eaten something.

It doesn’t take long, though. Going through the morning motions, the absence gets bigger and more oppressive in the apartment until you realize, and hit yourself in the head for taking as long as you did.

Kim still isn’t home. He probably didn’t come home at all last night, he would have woken you up to get off the couch. What happened?

SUGGESTION (Medium: Failure) – Is he angry with you ?

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – No, he would have made it known . He doesn’t like to leave problems unmentioned these days. If he was angry enough to stay away all night, he would have said something about it, if only just to give you a clue.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – He was perfectly normal last night. If anything, he was softer than he normally is, after you brought up your headache. It’s been a long week for the both of you, but you don’t usually bring up your own pain at work. He was worried. You couldn’t have been further from his bad side.

PAIN THRESHOLD ( Godly: Failure) – You had an ice spike driving into your skull for no fucking reason . You hated leaving him to all the busywork, but you couldn’t stay late like that and he knew it.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – He didn’t mind.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – Then he must not have meant to stay away. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk, after there was no one else left to wake him?

SHIVERS (Difficult: Success) – He did not.

ESPRIT DES CORPS (Medium: Success) – His desk is empty. Your fellow officers are all wondering where you both are – you’re late. They’ve come to expect tardiness from you, but your attendance has improved significantly since Kim moved in with you. Kim is never late. But he’s not there.

YOU: Fuck!

Chapter Text

At some point, Kim fell asleep again, and he woke up to sunlight streaming through the tiny window.

“Oh, good, you didn’t die of concussion sleep,” Doorknob commented as he sat up.

“Good morning to you, too.” Kim peered at her again. She was sitting in basically the same place, back pressed against the wall, with one leg outstretched in front of her and the other folded, foot flat against the ground. He could still hardly make out any details, but now he could tell that she was a fair-skinned woman with short blond hair, wearing a light blue shirt and dark pants. The boots he’d fondled the previous night were ankle-short and brown.

He fucking hated losing his glasses.

“Breakfast is over there.” She waved vaguely towards the window wall. How very helpful. He thanked the stars when he looked over, and whatever they’d thrown down contrasted well enough with the grey concrete that he could see it.

It turned out to be a granola bar and a tiny bottle of water, of the type usually given to kids. It only made him more aware of his hunger, but at least he wasn’t running on fumes anymore.

“So did you want to try looking out of the window?” Doorknob made it sound like there was nothing else in the world she’d rather do less.

Kim appreciated her asking, even though he found the thought equally repulsive. “No. I don’t think we would get high enough as it is. Even if we could see out, I don’t think I could hold you.” Everything was sore. Especially his right leg, which he vaguely remembered getting kicked out from under him the other night. The thought of having a whole human being stand on his shoulders. . . He would crumple like a tin can. The inverse option – him climbing on her – sounded worse.

“Thank fuck.” She fell back against the floor. “I super didn’t want to do that. So what happened to you? They beat you up something awful. I just got tricked into an MC.” She paused. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

Kim shrugged. “There’s not much of a story to tell. Some punks mugged and abducted me on the way home. I couldn’t tell you why.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they grabbed me, either. I’m not even local, I traveled here for a funeral, and they pretended to be a taxi at the airport.” She sounded rueful.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kim said automatically upon hearing the word funeral.

“It was a long time coming. But thanks.”

Neither of them spoke for several long moments, until Doorknob sat up sharply. Kim flinched slightly at the sudden movement.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Kim – wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

“Your favorite color,” she repeated impatiently, like the question was time-sensitive and vitally important. “Is it orange like your jacket? I’ve been sitting here with no one and nothing for two days, I’m bored out of my mind. I won’t ask anything that’s too identifying, if you don’t want me to.”

So she wanted to play some kind of 20 Questions game. That was fine. Kim had plenty of practice keeping a bored Harry occupied, Doorknob should be a breeze.

“Green, actually. But orange is a close runner-up. And you can ask anything you want, I just won’t answer if it’s too personal.”

“Oh, fuck yes. Awesome. Same goes to you, by the way – if you ever get tired of answering or dodging questions, you can ask me anything. My favorite color is purple. What do you like to eat?” She sounded genuinely enthusiastic at the prospect of grilling Kim on basic, almost childish questions. Kim wasn’t about to complain – it was something to pass the time, at least.

“I’ll eat anything, I’m not really picky.” It was a half-truth – there were many things he didn’t enjoy eating, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t eat them if they were the only option.

But she picked up on it. “I asked what you like to eat, not what you’re willing to eat. I’m willing to eat a fuckin’ bug if it crawls across the floor in here, but that doesn’t mean I’ll have fun doing it.”

The full, true answer was that Kim liked almost anything Harry made, with the exception of some experimental dishes, but he couldn’t say that for a hundred different reasons. So instead, he shrugged and said, “I don’t know, dessert? I don’t really pay attention to whether I like dinner or not.”

“That sounds genuinely like a miserable existence. But at least you’ve got dessert, I can respect that. I like apricot. Do you like to exercise?”

---

The questioning went on like that for some time – if Kim had pets (of course not, not in this economy); what pets he would have if he could get them (a single cat); if he liked to play any games (yes, Suzerainty and chess); whether he worked and if he liked his job (he said vaguely that it was all right, but it would be much less enjoyable without his coworkers); and many more, similar questions. Doorknob’s answers to her own questions gave Kim a little bit of insight into her person in return – she had a small dog and would like another one and a cat if she could, she liked card games, and she didn’t really like her job but she didn’t hate it either and isn’t that all you can ask for these days?

Before he knew it, he heard soft thumps from over by the window, signaling dinner. Doorknob jumped up to retrieve it, and tossed his over before he could push himself up. It was a bag of plain chips, and another tiny water bottle. Kim sighed.

“I know. It’s always like this – like they’re pulling our food out of a fucking vending machine every day. At least they’re throwing down double, instead of making us share. That’s what I expected them to do.” Doorknob tore her bag open and started inhaling the chips as fast as she could without dropping any.

Kim just shrugged in response, as if to say It is what it is, and ate a little slower, still somewhat wary of throwing it back up.

Doorknob was done in no time flat, and after licking her fingers, she asked, “So do you have any questions for me? I’ve been grilling you all this time, it’s only fair.”

Kim considered it. “Do you want me to ask you questions?”

“No, not really,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I just thought you might be getting bored by now, or sick of my questions. Thought you might want a turn.”

“I don’t mind answering questions, if you’d prefer to be the one asking. It would probably take me some time to think of things to ask, anyway – you seem to have plenty of questions at the ready. Unless you’re running out?” Kim tried to leave it open-ended. He really preferred to avoid becoming the asker, he worried he’d fall into his (or worse, Harry’s) detective patterns and start asking questions that were nosier than she liked, but the game was her idea to begin with. He was going to follow her lead.

“Dei, no, I’m not running out. I never run out. I only asked because I didn’t want you getting sick of them. What is your favorite. . . object? Any one thing. Something that makes you happy just to have.”

“My motor-carriage,” Kim answered easily. “I’ve put a lot of work into it, I’m proud of it.” He was a little embarrassed at the enthusiasm of his response, but he supposed she probably wouldn’t mind as much as most detectives did.

In fact, she perked up a bit at that. “Oh yeah? My boyfriend is a huge MC nerd – what kind is it? I’ve absorbed some of his knowledge.”

“It’s a Coupris Kineema.” He didn’t trust himself to say much more about it. There’s no telling what anyone’s weirdness cap was, and he’d found the hard way that speaking enthusiastically about his beloved motor-carriage was many people’s cutoff, even if this woman already knew and liked an “MC nerd”.

“That’s a good vehicle. You must own it, if you’ve done work on it. . ? Sorry if that’s nosy, I’m just curious.”

“It’s all right. Technically, it’s a company car, but they gave me permission to modify it as long as I kept it functional. No utterly ridiculous hotrodding, but minor alterations were acceptable.” As if turning the Kineema racetrack ready wasn’t a ridiculous hotrod, but they couldn’t care less about speed increases, and in the name of anonymity she didn’t need to know why he could use a speed increase.

“That’s cool. Hey, maybe you can show it to me when we finally get out of here. It sounds like a great machine.” She sounded genuine. It wasn’t even a come-on, she really wanted to see his car, just for the sake of it. Maybe he’d misread her.

“I will,” he said, without much hope. “I’ll drive you back to the airport. Do you or your boyfriend have a motor-carriage, if you’re nerds about them?”

Doorknob laughed. “He wishes. No, we mostly ride the bus, and go to MC shows whenever they’re nearby. Don’t tell him, but I honestly kind of prefer public transportation – I like being around people, and I never liked driving. But he’ll just die when I get back and tell him about your Kineema, he’ll be so jealous. I was going to ask you what you like to do in your free time, but the answer is probably repair work, right?”

“Mhm.” After a second, Kim thought, fuck it. “I also like to sew. It’s useful, being able to fix your own clothes.”

“A man who likes sewing!” She sounded. . . impressed? “Pilot, no man I’ve ever dated has been able to wield a needle and thread. You are a rare specimen, sir. I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Thanks?” Kim didn’t really know how to take that, but at least she wasn’t making fun. “You never answered those questions, yourself, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck, what were they again?”

“Your favorite object, and what you like to do in your free time.”

“Right, right. . .”

* * *

YOU – You get ready, worrying. You walk out onto the street, worrying. You’re a couple blocks down the road, well into working up a panic.

ENDURANCE (Difficult: Success) – You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you don’t cut it out.

COMPOSURE (Legendary: Failure) – And how the fuck is he supposed to do that? Kim is missing!

DRAMA (Easy: Success) – Kim has been eaten by wolves, Sire, and we’ll be lucky if we manage to identify his bones.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Medium: Success) – Most wildlife doesn’t typically survive for long in the middle of Jamrock. The giraffes are an exception. Kim probably hasn’t been eaten by wolves.

LOGIC (Difficult: Success) – It’s much likelier that he’s been the victim of a crime somewhere. A crime that you’ll get to solve.

DRAMA (Trivial: Success) – BONES, SIRE. BOOOOOONES.

SHIVERS (Difficult: Failure) – Hush.

REACTION SPEED (Medium: Success) – Shut up and look, now.

YOU – You stop, and scan your surroundings. It’s just the street on the way to work. There’s an alley to the right of you. You see it every day.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Failure) – There’s something off about it, though. Get closer.

YOU – You inch towards the alley. As the shade envelops you, your eyes adjust, and you see the ruin of it all.

PERCEPTION (Easy: Success) – The alley has been destroyed. Trash cans have been thrown about and dented, the gravel looks like it’s been chewed up and spit out, and the contents of the trash cans are strewn everywhere. The bricks sport dried streaks of blood, like someone scraped against them.

SHIVERS (Medium: Success) – It happened here. Look closely.

YOU – You freeze where you are, so you don’t mess up the crime scene, and squint for smaller details.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) – Kim keeps suggesting that you should get your eyes checked. He might have a point there.

VOLITION (Trivial: Success) – Not the time.

PERCEPTION (Difficult: Failure) – There’s a glint of reflected light on the ground, further in. Broken glass? Get closer again.

YOU – You continue into the alley, walking carefully, keeping an eye on where you saw the flash of light. Finally, it comes into view, and it’s –

PERCEPTION (Trivial: Success) – Kim’s glasses. Shattered. Only the frame remains, sitting in a little pile of its own broken lenses. There’s absolutely no mistaking them. You look at those glasses every day. A bit of blood is splashed across the glass shards.

-1 Morale

COMPOSURE (Godly: Failure) – He LOST his GLASSES?

RHETORIC (Medium: Success) – They broke his glasses.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – He’s terrified. Wherever he is. He’s scared out of his fucking mind.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) – Whoever the FUCK did this, you’re going to show them pain.

YOU – You drop slowly to your knees, very carefully not touching the carnage in front of you. You faintly notice yourself breathing too hard, and your hands are shaking.

REACTION SPEED (Difficult: Success) – Kim isn’t the only one scared right now.

VOLITION (Trivial: Success) – You’re going to find him.

Chapter Text

Doorknob had exhausted her questions, for the time being, hours ago. She and Kim sat in quiet companionship against one wall as the light faded from the room.

Kim had adjusted his position for comfort repeatedly over the course of the afternoon – broadly, he was just a little sore everywhere, but his leg ached, making him unable to find a good way to sit – and now found himself comfortably close to his cellmate. He hadn’t been trying to move closer on purpose, but now they were (as kids these days (or Harry) would say) just chilling, and Kim suspected at this proximity, he could maybe make out a bit more of Doorknob’s appearance.

So he turned his head and stared. (Just a little bit.)

As previously observed, she was pale and blonde. The curve of her nose, alongside her strong brow and jawline, told Kim that she was probably very pretty as conventional beauty standards went. Her gold hair was cropped at her chin in a fashionable bob. Her eyes were light, maybe blue, and it took Kim about four seconds too long to realize that they stared right back at him.

“How’s it going, Pilot?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Her tone was light, but she leaned away very slightly.

Kim immediately turned his head to look straight ahead, his jaw twitching. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“That’s what you did, though.”

“I am aware.”

She allowed a moment’s pause. “Just in case you weren’t aware, I am quite loyal to that boyfriend I mentioned earlier. So don’t try shit.”

Kim rested an elbow on his knee and pinched his nose, sighing. “I wasn’t making a pass at you. I am involved with someone as well. It’s just that –”

“There’s not a lot of ‘justs’ that can make staring not weird, you know that, right?” she interrupted.

“Could I finish my sentence before you judge me?” He gave her a look. Not a Look, just a look. It was kind of a tired one, a little exasperated, with just a hint of pleading.

She frowned. “Fine, but you’re on thin fucking ice.”

“I was just trying to figure out what you look like. I usually wear glasses, but I lost them when I was kidnapped. I promise, I did not intend to stare, but I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” Kim straightened his back, pursed his lips, and awaited her verdict.

Doorknob did not say anything for a second. A few seconds. Several.

Then she burst out laughing.

“You’re fucking blind?” she wheezed. “Dei. You’re right, I’m sorry, that is basically the one thing that makes staring not weird. Sorry, I was just worried for a second.”

Kim hummed. “It’s all right. I’m sure it was unnerving, I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, well.” She trailed off. “I could describe myself to you, if you want?”

“Only if you want to,” Kim said. “I got a good enough look at your face a minute ago.”

“What could you see?” she asked. “I’ll fill in the gaps.”

He recounted his observations, as few as they were.

She didn’t seem too surprised at his lack of detail. “That’s pretty accurate. You were right about the blue eyes – there’s a bit of green in ‘em but that’s not super noticeable. I have some freckles on my nose, and my front teeth are a little crooked. I’m wearing comfortable clothes for the aerostatic, nothing special about ‘em, and I’m 38, but I’m told I look younger.”

Kim let the description sink in. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They fell into another comfortable silence – seemed to be par for the course by now, Kim was mostly just glad they got along – until she spoke up again.

“You said you’re involved with someone, right? You have a girlfriend?”

Kim did not react. He did not react to that at all. It was calculated, how much he didn’t react even a little bit. “Yes.”

“Will you tell me about her?” Doorknob asked, not unkindly. “Even just a little bit? I told you my boyfriend likes motor-carriages, it’s only fair.”

“It’s okay. My. . .” Kim weighed his words very carefully. “I call her my partner. It’s always sounded more mature.”

“Understandable,” Doorknob said reasonably.

She was waiting for more, that much was obvious. But he didn’t know how to talk about Harry while avoiding the facts of him almost altogether. Harry wasn’t exactly the sort of person you could summarize.

“I met her at work. Having her around has made our job quite tolerable. I care very much for her,” was what Kim finally, stiffly, settled on. He hoped it was enough – he didn’t know how many more half-truths he could pull out of his ass. And frankly, he didn’t want to think too much about Harry – it made him ache in ways he preferred not to dwell on.

Luckily, Doorknob seemed to be particularly perceptive, and she let him off the hook. “Yeah. It’s always great when you find someone you click with, isn’t it? You must miss her. We’ll get out of here, don’t worry about it.”

He almost snorted at that. “We are stuck in a basement that barely has an exit, and given two snack foods per day as our only sustenance. And you think I shouldn’t worry?”

“No, I think you should act like we’re going to get out, because it’s that or we’ll die in here, and I don’t want to be stuck with some pessimistic asshole who thinks we’re doomed.” She frowned. “People don’t just get stuck in dungeons for no reason, Pilot. They wouldn’t be feeding us if they wanted us dead. We’re here for a reason, we just don’t know what it is yet.”

Kim closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “Okay. So what could it be, then?”

“Well, what do we have in common?”

“Nothing. Or very little. Look at us. We have our humanity in common, and that’s basically it. You’re not even from here.”

“I – ” something seemed to get caught in her throat, so she collected her words before continuing. “Actually, I am from here. I moved away a long time ago.”

“. . . and came back for a funeral.” Kim understood. Specifically, he understood that he’d put his foot in his mouth. “You must have family here. I should have remembered.”

“It was an old friend who died, but I do have some family here, yeah.” He heard a rustle as she shrugged. “It’s probably nothing, though. Being from the same city in and of itself isn’t a good enough similarity for kidnappers, probably. They could have grabbed anyone off the street – why me, right from my plane?”

“They did grab me right off the street,” Kim grumbled.

“That’s what I’m saying. Why you, specifically? Why not literally anyone else? Why us – what’s their angle here?”

This seemed like a pointless thought exercise to Kim. They weren’t going to find any significant similarities if they didn’t divulge essentially their whole life stories, and going around in circles asking “Why? Why? Why?” like philosophically-inclined owls never got anyone real answers.

At that moment, for absolutely no reason, Doorknob started wheezing.

“Are you – Dei, are you okay?” Kim asked worriedly. Watching her, it was quickly apparent that she was laughing, not having an attack of some sort.

It took her a second to respond, wiping a tear from her eyes. “Philosopher owls,” she said in a high voice, shoulders still shaking slightly.

Kim stared. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah,” she grinned, finally collecting herself. “Didn’t you mean to? It was funny as fuck.”

“No, I was trying to think of a more polite way to ask you to stop. It seemed rude.”

“Eh, I don’t mind. It was pretty pointless, I was just thinking out loud a little.”

“I’m glad you found it funny, at least.”

***

YOU: After collecting yourself from the sight of Kim’s disembodied spectacles, you race across the street to a payphone and dial the emergency number. You could call someone from the office directly, but their numbers all escape you in your panic.

EMERGENCY OPERATOR: “Hello, what’s your emergency?”

YOU: “Hey, hi, listen, I need you to put me through to someone in the 41^st, like, right now. It’s super important.”

EMERGENCY OPERATOR: She sighs. “Lieutenant Du Bois, is that you?”

YOU: “Yes! It’s important. I forgot everyone’s numbers. Please get me through to someone.”

EMERGENCY OPERATOR: Another sigh. “Transferring. . .”

YOU: You start to say “Thanks!” but the line goes quiet before the word can leave your tongue.

JUDIT MINOT: “Precinct 41, C Wing speaking. Can I help you?”

YOU: You briefly thank Dei or Revachol or whatever higher power that the operator put you through to your actual office instead of sending you on a hold train. “Judit! Hey! Listen, it’s me. Something happened, I need some help. Evidence bags and shit. I’m just down the road.”

JUDIT MINOT: “Lieutenant? Please slow down, I can’t understand you. What’s happened? Is someone injured?”

YOU: “I don’t – there’s a lot going on. I don’t know yet, I just need some help out here. I’m a few blocks down the street. South.”

JUDIT MINOT: “You’re scaring me, Lieutenant.” She sounds like she means it. “Is anyone hurt? I need to know what the situation is before anyone goes out.”

PERCEPTION (Difficult: Failure) – You hear someone shouting in the background, but you can go fuck yourself if you think you’re gonna make out what they’re saying.

YOU: “Listen, I don’t – ” you take a breath. Another one. Lights dance in front of your eyes.

ENDURANCE (Difficult: Failure) – You’ve been holding your breath or hyperventilating since you found the alley. Stop it, now. You’re gonna pass out.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) – You won’t do Kim any good if you pass out.

JUDIT MINOT: “Lieutenant, sir, are you all right? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – The poor woman is terrified right now.

COMPOSURE (Difficult: Success) – Get your shit together and tell her what’s wrong so you can get this show on the road. Kim would keep his shit together if you got kidnapped. Do it for Kim.

YOU: You take a couple of slow breaths before trying to speak again. “It’s okay. I’m okay. But Kim isn’t. He never came home last night. I was hoping he fell asleep at work or some shit, but just now, I found an alley that got fucking wrecked in a fight. And Kim’s glasses are broken on the ground. Someone took him. I have to analyze the scene for clues so I can find him. I just need someone to bring me supplies. Like I said. Evidence bags and shit.”

PERCEPTION (Difficult: Success) – The person shouting in the background is Jean. He’s still shouting. This time you can hear him saying that he knows it’s you on the phone, and he’s demanding to know what the fuck is wrong with you this time.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – Poor Judit. She’s got you panicking in one ear and Jean yelling in the other. She’s very stressed.

JUDIT MINOT: “(Officer Vicquemare, I will fill you in in just a moment. Please stop shouting, he can’t hear you.) I’m sorry, sir, Officer Vicquemare is asking what the problem is. Is there anything else we should know about the situation, or can I put the phone down to fill him in? Or would you rather speak to him?”

COMPOSURE (Godly: Failure) – Mh. No. You’re not going to explain this to Jean.

HALF LIGHT (Medium: Success) – You’ll tear him a new one. For no reason beyond being his usual asshole self in your vicinity.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – Maybe he deserves it for yelling at Judit for no reason. You haven’t lost your temper at him in so long.

AUTHORITY (Easy: Success) – He’s gotten complacent. His head’s too big for his station. Put him in his place.

YOU: “No, it’s – I don’t want you to have to play messenger. Just tell him I found a crime scene down the street that I need his help with. I’ll explain when he gets here.”

JUDIT MINOT: She lets out a very soft, almost imperceptible sigh of relief. “Yes, sir. Where exactly are you, again?”

YOU: You look to the street sign closest to you, and rattle off the street names.

Chapter Text

It was late at night when Doorknob spoke up again. “Are you awake?”

Kim wasn’t, but he’d been trying to. “No.”

“I’m having a hard time sleeping. Would it annoy you if I talked for a bit?”

“I wouldn’t mind, no.” Doorknob had been growing on Kim, the more they talked. He’d started looking forward to her rambling, just a little.

“Well, it’s just. I was thinking about my old friend who died, and I wondered if I could tell you about him? It’s keeping me up.” She sounded sad.

“By all means,” said Kim, trying to be compassionate.

“Thank you.” She went quiet for a moment, perhaps weighing her words. “It’s kind of funny, in a weird way. I’ve got a lot of mixed emotions about this guy, you know?”

Kim hummed in acknowledgment.

“Yeah. You know. I mean, he was my ex boyfriend. But like. We were together for something like fifteen years, right? I loved him. I really loved him, for a really fucking long time. He was so cool. The coolest. He was incredible. I loved him so much.”

Kim understood that his job in this conversation was primarily to make sympathetic noises at appropriate intervals. So that’s what he did.

“I. . . god. I didn’t want to break up with him. Even after all that time. The spark had gone down, but I still cared for him, you know? He was always such a good man. I didn’t want to hurt him.

But he was an alcoholic, and he did a ton of drugs. We couldn’t afford it in the first place, but beyond that, he was killing himself. Every day. I couldn’t even do anything. He tried to get clean for me a couple of times, but it never went anywhere, he just relapsed and went right back. It hurt so bad to watch. You have no idea.”

Kim did know. He knew better than most. But now wasn’t the time to say so.

“I couldn’t. . . I couldn’t stay there. With him. For my own sake. I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to save him. So I couldn’t stay there and watch him die. Let him kill himself. Dei –” her voice broke. “I had to leave, and it wrecked him so bad. It was awful. His feelings. . . were a lot bigger than most people’s. That’s what made him such a good guy, he felt for everyone. But it made everything painful in the world hurt him that much more, too.

“And mind you – he was everywhere in the city. I couldn’t just break up with him and get an apartment a few blocks away, Dei, no. You can’t escape him. He would have found me and convinced me to come back, sooner or later. Probably sooner. But he loves Revachol, he’d never leave, even if he had the means. So I moved to a whole different fucking isola. I had a radio friend in Mirova, she let me stay with her while I got my bearings for the place. That was. . . oh, something like seven years ago.”

Kim stopped breathing. But she didn’t stop talking.

“I thought – I really thought he wouldn’t hardly last a year without me. He was well on his way to a heart attack while I was there, I figured it was only a matter of time after I was gone. And – that sounds really bad. I swear, I didn’t want him dead, I just knew I couldn’t keep him alive like he needed me to. I had to live for me. But he didn’t die. He found my long-distance number, and he’d call me all the time. Begging me to come back, telling me about drama from work, just plain rambling – he just talked, it didn’t matter what he was saying. It was annoying at first, but then I realized that I could kind of keep track of him like that. Just to know if he was still kicking.

“So I told him, I would hang up on him if he kept asking me to come back. He could talk about anything else, that was my only rule – don’t ask me to come back. And he actually listened. He stopped calling so frequently after a while – at first it was almost daily, then it was once a week, then a couple of times a month, but he never asked me to come home again. He usually called when he was too drunk or high and didn’t want to get shouted at by his one jackass coworker about it. And he just rambled. It was kind of nice. Almost like we were just friends. I liked knowing he was still out there, and I think he liked having someone who would listen.”

This wasn’t fucking happening. It couldn’t be her. A scene came back to Kim, unprompted – late at night in Martinaise. Harry, dialing random numbers on a payphone, seemingly just for fun. Prank calls. For one of them, he’d closed his eyes and dialed an incredibly fucking long number totally blind. Muscle memory. The wide-eyed stare he gave Kim when the number’s owner didn’t pick up immediately. When she finally picked up and he talked about utterly nothing for so long. . . fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She sighed. “I actually thought he died a while back. The last time he called was a year ago – the longest time he ever went without calling before that was only like a couple months. But he must have gotten way too caught up with work, or something, and not had time to talk – and then his heart finally gave out. Probably. I missed the funeral, so I guess I’ll never know.”

Kim took several slow, deliberate breaths.

He had to tell her. He had to. There was no mistaking those details. It had to be her. But what should he say?

Just the truth, he supposed. Bluntly would be best, or at least easiest. So. . .

“Khm. Harry isn’t dead.”

* * *

YOU: You’re back at the precinct. Jean came out to help you get clues from the crime scene, and shockingly, you’d gotten through the whole interaction without publicly shaming him. Now, you’re in relative privacy, with only Judit and Trant as witnesses – and allegedly, they’ve seen much worse from you than this.

YOU: “What the FUCK do you mean, kidnapping isn’t our jurisdiction? It’s fucking kidnapping! And it’s Kim! I’m not about to punt this off to some idiot in another division just because we don’t have a body to investigate!”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Trivial: Success) – Punch someone.

VOLITION (Easy: Success) – No.

JEAN VICQUEMARE: He pinches his nose. “We can’t just ignore our jobs, all because it’s one of ours who’s missing. Someone else will investigate. We can’t spare you.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Medium: Success) – Kill him.

VOLITION (Difficult: Success) – NO.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) – Killing your coworkers, no matter how infuriating they’re being, will not help you find Kim.

EMPATHY (Trivial: Success) – Also, Kim would be super disappointed in you if he found out you murdered Jean.

COMPOSURE (Difficult: Success) – Calm down. Reason with him. As best you can. You have to get through to him at least a little bit, before either of you takes this to Pryce.

YOU: You take a deep breath, and exhale slowly.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – Everyone thinks you look less like you’re calming yourself down to discuss this rationally, and more like a predator preparing to strike.

HALF LIGHT (Easy: Success) – Good.

YOU: “You can’t spare me?” Your voice is quiet. So quiet. A stark contrast from the shouting you did ten seconds ago. “You can’t spare me? I think, we can’t fucking spare Kim. He could be dead right now, or actively getting murdered, and you’re trying to stop the one asshole who has any chance of finding him in time from looking.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: His eyes are narrow. Tight. Calculating. He takes several seconds before he responds. “Have you considered, even briefly, that perhaps he’s right where he wants to be?”

SHIVERS (Impossible: Failure) – The air freezes. Everyone in the room, besides Jean, stops breathing.

RHETORIC (Difficult: Success) – He did not just imply what you think he implied.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Easy: Success) – He did.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – Make him spell out what he meant. Out loud.

YOU: You step into Jean’s space. Far too close. “What. Exactly. Is that supposed to mean?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: He scoffs. Inches back. Intimidated. “Like you don’t know.”

AUTHORITY (Medium: Success) – Now is the time. Put him in his place.

YOU: You tilt your head, just a little. Step even closer. Your voice is frostbite. “I don’t, actually. Explain.”

JEAN VICQUEMMARE: He sidesteps away, out of your space, and folds his arms across his chest. Defensively. You won this standoff – no matter how awful the poison he has to say next. “I was referring to the fact that you scare everyone off from this precinct, sooner or later. Kitsuragi lasted longer than most, I’ll give him that. But he got fed up with you and left. He’s probably putting his desk back together at the 57^th as we speak.”

-1 Morale

PAIN THRESHOLD (Impossible: Failure) – You knew what he was going to say. But that doesn’t make hearing the words hurt any less.

SHIVERS (Medium: Success) – It is not the truth. He must be saved.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – Kim would never.

VOLITION (Difficult: Success) – Don’t rise to Jean’s bait. Keep pushing. You have to find him.

YOU: “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you growl. “Kim's been a better friend to me than you have all year. He wouldn’t just leave like that. He. Needs. HELP. And I’m going to find him, with or without you!”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Then you’re an idiot!” he roars. “A blind sentimental idiot! You find one jackass who can tolerate your bullshit for half a minute longer than anyone else, and you latch onto him like a barnacle and chase him away! You’re just going to find him across the city in the same job as ever, trying to get away from you, and then we’ll all be stuck with your miserable fucking fallout! Don’t waste all our time – he’s gone now! Let him be!”

REACTION SPEED (Godly: Success) – DON’T HIT HIM.

YOU: Your hand strikes a stack of papers nearby, sending them flying.

INLAND EMPIRE (Trivial: Success) – Bureaucratic confetti!

VOLITION (Godly: Success) – Walk out. Right now. You’ll find him on your own.

YOU: You leave.

Chapter Text

“Khm. . . Harry isn’t dead.”

Doorknob – or rather, Dora, Kim mentally corrected – would have done a spit take if there had been anything in her mouth. As it was, she choked. “Fucking what?”

“Lieutenant Harrier Du Bois,” Kim felt it necessary to specify, despite the fact that there wasn’t a single other motherfucker in Jamrock Dora could possibly have been referring to. “From Precinct 41. The man you’re talking about. He’s not dead.”

As he spoke, Dora sat up sharply. “How the fuck do you know that. How do you know him.” It was spoken like an order, rather than a question.

“I – well, I suppose I don’t know that he’s alive as of this minute,” and wasn’t that the depressing thought of the week, “but I can tell you for certain that he was alive as of about four hours before I was kidnapped. And – I should have introduced myself earlier, but I had no way to know you were trustworthy. I am Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi, also of the 41^st. Harry is my partner – that’s how I know him.”

She said nothing. Kim could hear breathing, ever so slightly harsher than her normal pattern.

So he tried, softer: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ingerlund. Our coworkers have told me a lot about you. I’m glad to know they were all lying out of their asses.”

The slight redirect was a long shot, but it worked. Kim could hear the frown in her voice as she asked, “Your coworkers told you about me. Not Harry?”

“Correct. It’s a long story, but I can explain.” Ten minutes ago, Kim would have thrown himself down the hole they shat in before he told some stranger anything about Harry. But Dora Ingerlund had to be trustworthy, especially after that mixed-feelings spiel she just gave. Besides, she had a right to know at least some of it. “The most important thing you should know is that Harry has amnesia. Complete retrograde. He hasn’t told me about you, because he doesn’t remember you. I only know your name because his former partner likes to take the piss.”

He could hear the gears turning in her head, and Kim smiled a little bit to himself. Something told him Harry and Dora had been twin souls in their heyday, at least in the ways that mattered.

“Okay. So – you’re not new to the force, though. You’ve been around the block, that much is obvious. But you weren’t at 41 when I was around. How long have you known him?” she finally settled on asking.

“You’re quite right. I’ve actually been an officer for a handful of years longer than he has – just, across the city. I worked for Precinct 57 for most of my career, until I met Harry and transferred to the 41^st a year ago.”

“You –” she short-circuited again. “You transferred to 41 because of Harry? You like him?”

“I care for him quite a bit,” Kim confirmed.

She was still bewildered. “Nobody likes Harry.”

“You liked Harry,” Kim pointed out.

Dora spluttered. “I – well, yeah, I just told you why I liked him two minutes ago. But generally speaking, people don’t! Why do you like him?”

“You’re protective,” Kim observed.

“If you start fucking can-opening me I swear to Dei I’ll figure out a way to kill myself in here,” she threatened.

The corners of Kim’s eyes crinkled in a repressed laugh. “Don’t worry, that’s Harry’s thing. I just take notes. But to answer your question, I liked him because he was offbeat and genuine. I’d never worked with someone like him before. He’s among the best partners I’ve ever had.”

Evidently, that was enough for the weird corner of Dora’s brain still concerned for her ex’s well-being. She backtracked a little in the conversation. “Wait. You said he had amnesia?”

“Has, present tense. Some of his memories have returned, but not very many. None of you, to my knowledge.”

“When did that happen?”

“Also a year ago. That’s the long story I mentioned – if you’d like to hear it?” Kim didn’t know what kind of news she was prepared to hear about Harry, but he didn’t plan to sugarcoat any of it. She probably had a good enough idea, having known him.

“I would.” She sounded determined – she sounded invested.

“All right. So – do you know the area of Martinaise, a little bit north of Jamrock?”

“I know of it. Harry always told me it wasn’t a great place to go, so I’ve never seen it.”

Kim wanted to make sure she was filled in on a general knowledge of the area, before he started in on the rest of the story. “The reason he probably said that, is because it is essentially a dead zone between Precincts 41 and 57. The two argue over who polices it, and ultimately, neither one does. But when a murder happens in the area, they have to call someone to clean it up – and so, the two precincts send one agent each to solve the crime. Make sense?”

“Yeah. And 57 is where you worked, so they sent you and him to investigate some murder together?” Dora was quick.

“Precisely,” Kim confirmed. “The thing was. . . Harry went on a bit of a bender in Martinaise a few nights before I met him. A massive bender, actually. He attempted, then successfully avoided killing himself, at least twice that I’m aware of. He drove his motor-carriage into a river. The morning I got there, his memories were gone.”

Dora was quiet, processing. “How gone?”

“Like I said – complete retrograde. So, utterly. He owed the hotel manager 130 real, and he tried to pay it with pocket change because he forgot what money was. Neither of us knew his name for half a week.”

“Dei,” she said softly.

“Quite,” Kim agreed. “But even then – I can’t tell you how much I liked working with him. He didn’t have any procedural memory at all, but he was truly an excellent partner regardless. So when we solved the case and he offered me a place with the 41^st, I accepted, and we’ve been permanent partners ever since.”

“What happened to the last partner? I remember him telling me about that guy. Sounded like a bit of a dick. I mean, obviously he’s still around. . ?”

“He got fed up with Harry, even moreso with the amnesia, and essentially pawned him off on me as soon as he learned I didn’t mind working with him. I would feel bad for Harry, getting rejected by his partner like that. . . but I’m a much better partner than Jean ever was, so I can’t say that I care.”

“How so?” Dora asked curiously. “Are you a better partner, that is?”

Kim knew the answer, but he thought carefully about his phrasing for a minute. “Harry just needs someone who can meet him where he’s at. Jean doesn’t have the patience for it – I suspect he never did.”

“But you do, though.”

Kim nodded. “I am a very patient man.”

Dora snickered. “As evidenced by all the bothering you let me do earlier, I suppose.”

“If you think that anything you do can possibly compare to what I willingly put up with on a daily basis from my partner, you have woefully misread me, Ms. Ingerlund.” A hint of a laugh flickered at the corner of Kim’s mouth.

“Oh Dei, please, call me Dora. We’re friends, right?”

“If you’d like to be. I didn’t want to presume.”

“That’s polite of you. But, I mean, we’ve been stuck in a basement together for almost a week, and we’ve both had the same. . .” she trailed off. It was likely meant as a double-meaning wordplay joke (my fiance-partner and your work-partner, same guy, har-har), but evidently she put a couple of personal anecdotes together in her head as she spoke. “. . . partner. Wait.”

Heart sinking, Kim said pleasantly, “Don’t worry about it.”

She sat quietly for a moment. Kim couldn’t see her in the darkness, but he felt wide eyes boring into him nonetheless. She didn’t comment further, though. “Right. No, I just meant we know the same guy, so we might as well be friends, right? Hey, now we know what we have in common!”

She said it lightheartedly. It was meant to break the tension. But hearing it out loud made Kim’s heart, already low, drop into his stomach like a stone. “No. What?”

“Harry’s. . . what we have. . . in common?” she repeated slowly, like she was confused.

“No, it’s –” Kim stood up and began to pace. “Fuck. Fuck!”

“Shit, dude, what?” Dora scrambled up after him, but couldn’t follow his path in the dark.

“It’s a trap,” Kim hissed, feeling his pulse rise in his ears. “It’s a trap! We’re not victims – we’re bait! They’re using us to lure and kill Harry!”

***

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Easy: Failure) – You don’t know where you’re going.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Easy: Success) – It felt damn good when you stormed out on Jean.

LOGIC (Medium: Success) – . . . but now you don’t have his help, or anyone else’s. You’re on your own.

INLAND EMPIRE (Easy: Success) – Yet again, the loneliest man in Revachol.

-1 Health

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Medium: Failure) – You haven’t been alone-alone on a case in. . . how long?

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Difficult: Failure) – Fuck if you know. More than a year.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – Kim would never let you work a case alone – he wants to make sure you always have backup. Before Kim, Jean didn’t trust you on your own. It’s been a long time.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Impossible: Failure) – What to do now?

PAIN THRESHOLD (Difficult: Success) – A sudden stabbing pain through your stomach has you grimacing. It was, in retrospect, not that painful, but it made you stop and clench your teeth nonetheless.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – You forgot to eat. It’s been since breakfast yesterday.

SHIVERS (Impossible: Failure) – Go home. Get something to eat. Reassess the situation.

SUGGESTION (Difficult: Success) – What she said. You can’t do Kim any good running on fumes.

Chapter Text

Kim paced.

He’d started pacing when he realized what their kidnappers’ plan was. That was when the basement had been pitch dark. Daylight was just barely beginning to stream in from the window now.

And still, Kim paced.

“You know,” Dora said tiredly, “there’s nothing we can do in here. Panicking won’t do any of us any good.”

Kim shook his head. “I am not panicking. I’m just pacing.”

“For four hours,” Dora pressed.

“It’s only been three.”

“You are panicking.”

“I don’t panic,” Kim insisted, pivoting to glare at her. He noticed then, that he was slightly out of breath, and his heart was pounding.

Probably nothing.

Kim started pacing again.

If he’d been a little more observant, be would have noticed Dora standing and matching pace with him for three seconds. And then, he would have noticed as she stood right in his path while he turned a corner.

But he didn’t notice either of those things. (In his defense, there was a slight oxygen deficiency in his brain at the time. And he was still fucking blind.) So when he turned his corner, he walked right into her.

The collision had him stumbling, and Dora caught him. He tried to push her away to continue his trek, but Dora gripped his hands and held him fast.

He glared at her again, employing a look that always made Harry crumble. But she just frowned, and tightened her fingers around his wrists when he tried to tug them away.

“Listen. No, I’m serious, listen to me. Stop it. Your leg is fucked up, you’re gonna hurt yourself, cut it out.” She grappled with him for a second to keep her grip.

Kim could have gotten away, he was bigger and stronger, but he didn’t want to hurt her by yanking, and deep down he knew she had a point. His leg was sore. And she was letting him lean on her.

As soon as she felt him stop struggling, she released his wrists and darted forward to wrap her arms around his chest.

Kim froze. But when he didn’t immediately reject the hug, she tightened her grip and put her chin on his shoulder. She breathed slowly – meant to calm him. He recognized the strategy easily, having performed it several times himself. (Not while hugging, most of the time. That was too personal. But sometimes, all a scared witness needed was a solid presence nearby.)

Unfortunately for his pride, it worked on him too. Pressed against someone breathing so steadily, he automatically matched pace, and soon tension drained from his body. Not all, but enough.

She noticed Kim putting more weight on her, and adjusted herself to act as a crutch. “Come on,” she said softly. “You need to sit down.”

Kim really wanted to keep walking. But she was easing him back towards the wall they slept by, and his leg ached, and he kind of wanted to see what she was going to say. So he followed, leaning on her. Just a little.

They settled down against the wall – Dora, obnoxiously, helping him down (as if he needed it), and then sitting right next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t baby me,” he said, irritated.

“I’m not babying you for shit. Your leg is fucked up and you’re panicking. I’m just trying to help.” She looked dead sincere, and Kim spared a split second’s thought on the possibility that she was right, and Kim really did need to take a second to calm down and let his leg rest.

Just as quickly, he dismissed it. Harry was walking into a trap, he had every right to be concerned. And he could still walk on his leg, so it couldn’t be that bad. “I told you. I don’t panic.”

“All right. Say you’re not panicking,” she conceded quietly. “You are worried – you can admit that much, right?”

“Of course I’m worried. I don’t want my partner dead.” Kim’s voice trembled, and wasn’t that fucking humiliating. He resolved to shut up until he knew for sure his voice wouldn’t crack like a teenager’s. The end of that sentence contained an unspoken word that Kim absolutely did not want to think about.

“Right.” She pulled back a little to look into his eyes, which had a slightly muted effect given the glassesless circumstances, but Kim knew she meant well. “I don’t want Harry dead either. But I’m guessing you haven’t gotten to play damsel in distress yet, have you?”

Kim frowned and shook his head. He resented the ‘damsel’ moniker, but he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. Priorities.

Dora nodded, like she’d expected it. “Well, I have, a few times. Let me ask you this – you said you really like working with him, right? Because he’s a good detective?”

Kim dipped his chin and hummed.

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s a damn good detective. The thing is – when someone he loves is in trouble, all his shit goes into overdrive. Maximum power. It’s the only thing he can think of. I don’t think he sleeps.”

“That doesn’t really help,” Kim said in a small voice. “He’s awful without sleep.”

Dora waved her free hand dismissively. “I know, I know. I’m just saying – can you imagine him focusing on one single thing for days? No side cases. No little mind projects. Just one single case, getting one hundred percent of Harry’s attention span.”

Kim tried to imagine it and failed. “He doesn’t work like that.”

Dora shook her head. “That’s what I’m saying. It doesn’t ever happen, until someone he loves is in danger . Right now, at this moment, mark my words: finding you is taking up every ounce of his brainpower. Every second of his time. And more importantly: he doesn’t miss anything when he’s focused like this. He knows there’s a trap. He’ll find a way to get around it. Anything to keep you safe.”

“He’s coming for you, too,” Kim felt compelled to add, distancing himself from the sheer leaden weight of what she’d just said.

But she shook her head again. “Not if what you said about him having amnesia is true. If he doesn’t remember me, I might as well not exist. I’ll get out at the same time as you, by proximity, but he’s looking for you. He’s gonna track you down. Hell or high water.”

Kim looked down her, and was suddenly, absurdly, struck with the realization of just how small Dora was. She was such a big presence, he hadn’t noticed – but even sitting down, her head just barely came up to his nose. Her blurred face was full of stubborn determination. So much faith in a man she hadn’t seen in seven years – a man she left. Kim trusted him too, with everything he had – but even someone as skilled as Harry had limitations. He was only human. And humans fell for traps.

“I hope you’re right,” Kim said faintly.

“I am. Trust me.” She pulled on his shoulder, and it took Kim an awkward few seconds before he understood what she was trying to do. He gingerly let his head settle on her shoulder, and as he readjusted, he realized that this new position had the additional bonus of taking his weight off his afflicted hip. Dei curse undignified physical affection – it was nice.

***

YOU: You scrounge in the refrigerator for something to eat. Kim’s been making you eat on a more regular schedule. Once, the both of you tried to figure out what your previous eating habits were, and you discovered that before he came along, you probably only ever ate dinner, and not even necessarily every day. Now, Kim gives you the silent treatment if you forget to take a lunch break. And literally ties you down if you forget dinner.

Things have changed.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – He loves you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Trivial: Success) – You should “forget” dinner more often. That’s a fucking party.

LOGIC (Medium: Success) – You have to find him first.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Difficult: Failure) – And until then, it’s impossible to know what he’s been through. What he has to recover from.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Failure) – Buzzkills, the lot of you.

ENDURANCE ( Medium : Success) – To be fair to Kim , he is almost always prepared to go just a little bit further than you expect him to. Sometimes a lot further. But he’s usually down. You never know until you ask .

VOLITION (Difficult: Success) – Not what we should be focused on.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – Shove this turkey in your face.

INTERFACING (Trivial: Success) – It’s cold.

Logic (Medium: Failure) – Not cooked? You shouldn’t eat raw meat.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Godly: Failure) – You learned that lesson the hard way.

RHETORIC (Easy: Success) – It is not raw – it’s cooked deli meat. People sometimes do reheat it, but it’s perfectly safe to eat cold. Kim likes to make sandwiches out of it.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – You don’t want to reheat it right now. Just eat it cold. You don’t have the patience for it, nor do you have the focus. You’d be liable to put your whole bare hand into the hot pan.

INLAND EMPIRE (Difficult: Failure) – And you can’t use the toaster oven - she hates you.

YOU: Your meaty hands become even meatier as they shovel half the package of meat into your gaping maw.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Trivial: Success) – Kim would throw a spoon at you if he saw you doing this. Nasty.

VOLITION (Difficult: Failure) – Kim’s not here to worry about it.

YOU: You keep eating the turkey. Until there’s only a few slices left.

LOGIC (Medium: Failure) – Kim might want a sandwich.

SUGGESTION ( Easy : Success) – At least wash your hands, turkey-boy.

YOU: You do, alongside your face, because now it feels greasy, and there’s probably meat in your muttonchops. As you scrub with probably-too-much dish soap, your mind drifts.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Difficult: Success) – A few streets away, Judit returns from her smoke break to see a hand-written note taped to the precinct doors. She reads it and almost shouts out loud, then gingerly pinches it down with her jacket sleeve and runs back to the office.

“Officer Vicquemare, you must call and apologize to Lieutenant Du Bois immediately!”

At his glare, she shrinks slightly, but throws the note on a mostly-clear corner of table for his perusal.

Jean peers at it, frowning.“What the fuck is this. Is this a fucking ransom note?”

“Yes! For Lieutenant Kitsuragi!” she exclaims. “Lieutenant Du Bois was right – he has been taken! Call him to tell him!”

YOU: Your eyes drift unbidden to the telephone.

TERRIBLE LACY TELEPHONE THAT KIM THOUGHT WAS FUNNY IN AN IRONIC WAY: Don’t look at me, asshole. I don’t have shit for you.

INLAND EMPIRE (Medium: Success) – Remember, don’t worry about the phone. He just likes sounding tough. He doesn’t actually think you’re an asshole. He’s been owned by two teenage girls and three grandmas before you. That does things to a man.

YOU: You nod agreeably, still rinsing your beard.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Godly: Success) – Jean returns to his paperwork dismissively. “Why don’t you. I don’t think he cares to speak to me right now.”

Judit huffs, snapping on evidence gloves. “But it’s more important he hears it from you. With all due respect, sir, that wasn’t a very nice thing you said about Lieutenant Kitsuragi. I think he’s here to stay.”

“I don’t really care about either of their feelings,” Jean says, scribbling away. “You know how many good officers Harry’s scared off. Pardon me for assuming Kitsuragi wasn’t an exception. It’s not that far of a stretch.”

“It was still unfair! Sir!” Judit insists, placing the note in an evidence bag. “We all still have to work together. Please call him. I’ll take this to check for any prints.”

Jean rolls his eyes and picks up the phone.

TERRIBLE LACY TELEPHONE: Hey, bitch, I got some shit for you! Fucking finally! I get so bored all day and finally I get to be used, and there’s never any teenage gossip or knitting club beef with you boys anymore, no sir, it’s only ever mostly normal adult shit all the time and I’m so fucking pink –

YOU: You stagger over to pick up the phone , dizzy after holding your head halfway upside down in the sink, patting your beard dry with a kitchen towel. “Hello?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Judit found more evidence. You should come in.” He’s grumbling.

YOU: “Wait, what kind of evidence?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: “A ransom note on the door of the station. (You were right.)”

RHETORIC (Difficult: Success) – It’s really neat how he manages to pronounce the parentheses out loud.

YOU: “What?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE: “YOU WERE RIGHT, I said you were right. Kitsuragi’s been kidnapped. In an attempt to get to you, I might add; i t’s a ransom – they want you in exchange for him. Get over here and we’ll figure out what to do. Don’t do anything stupid.”

YOU: You hang up the phone and book it.

Chapter Text

“Tell me about Harry now,” Dora asked companionably, arm still slung over Kim’s shoulders.

Kim blinked groggily and sat up . He’d almost fallen asleep on her shoulder. “I’m not going to spill all his secrets on command like that. Be specific. What do you want to know?”

She nudged him. “Don’t be dramatic – I’m not asking for secrets, I’m just asking for an update. I haven’t talked to him in a year, and he must be at least a little different since he lost his memory.”

“I wouldn’t know how different he is,” Kim pointed out. “I’ve only ever known him with amnesia.”

“Yeah, but your coworkers must have talked about it. Like they told you about me?”

Kim shook his head. “Not particularly. Harry’s just about as functional as he used to be, so most of them pretend nothing’s happened. Jean makes fun of his memory loss any chance he gets, but he is wildly inaccurate when it comes to Harry’s history. He regularly tells misleading stories and spins them into a negative light, but I’ve been through Harry’s old paperwork, so I know a lot of it isn’t true. I just don’t quite have a frame of reference for what is.”

Dora shrugged. “So just tell me about him normally, then. Not how he’s changed, just how he is. I’ll tell you how he’s different, if you want .”

“Well.” Kim felt his jaw twitch as he decided how to phrase his response. He knew she knew he and Harry were together now, but it would nonetheless be mortifying to sing Harry’s praises, like he felt was most accurate, to the woman who left him. “I mean, you know how indescribable he is. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

D ora thought for a second. “Okay. So – you’ve told me why you like working with him, and you told me how you started liking him to begin with . Now tell me why you like him as a person. ”

“Sounds like teenage gossip,” Kim muttered.

She elbowed him. “Don’t be boring. Teenage gossip can be fun!”

Kim grimaced. “Not when you were a juvenile officer for the first fifteen years of your career.”

“Then it’s not teenage gossip! It’s normal grown fucking adult gossip! Come onnn,” Dora said, dramatically flopping against the floor. “I literally just want a general idea of what to expect before he gets here. It’s not that hard.”

Kim opened his mouth to respond, but –

Pop-pop-pop.

Dora sat up, startled. “Was that gunfire?”

Kim was unfazed. “Some gang fight. Happens all the time.”

“Well – shit, dude, I know it happens all the time, I lived here – but it sounded really close.”

“So do a lot of firefights in the area. Because they happen quite frequently.”

More gunfire erupted.

“That was even closer,” Dora said, pointing at the ceiling. “It’s right on top of us.”

Kim knew what she was getting at. “It’s only been two days. It’s not Harry. Probably a rival gang.”

“You,” she poked his chest, “were passed out for at least two days. I don’t know how long I was out before that. It’s been four, minimum. That’s plenty of time for him to find us, and you know it.” She stood up and walked over below the window.

Footsteps pounded across the trapdoor, and faint shouting rang out.

Dora shot him a smug look. Preemptively, in Kim’s opinion, but he figured it was best to shut up (so as not to embarrass himself further if it really was Harry), and wait and see.

Whatever kind of structure was above them, it sounded like the attackers were sweeping and clearing it completely, if the waves of stomping feet were anything to go by. Only a couple more shots rang out after the second round of gunfire, but the stampeding kept going. There must have been a lot of people in the building above – but who would be trampling the place like this?

Kim opened his mouth to make a dry comment -

- when an extremely distinctive gravelly voice came filtering down through the window.

“Look at these weird fucking bars here!” Harry yelled. (Probably to himself.) “Houses don’t have prison grates like that. Kim, are you down there?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “It’s a trap, get out of here!” Kim shouted back desperately, pushing himself off the floor and limping over below the window.

“Kim! I’ve been so worried, are you okay?” He sounded absurdly delighted.

“Harry, it’s a fucking trap, they’re going to kill you! You have to leave!”

“What the fuck are you doing,” Dora hissed.

“I told you, I don’t want him dead,” Kim growled back.

“He’s rescuing you, stupid!”

“Kim? I promise, I’ve got it under control,” Harry called down.

“Harry, please -”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it handled! Can you tell me where you are?”

“Harrier, listen to me! You are walking into a trap!”

“I know there was a trap, don’t worry about it! I need you to tell me about the room you’re in so I can find it!”

Kim’s heart was beating out of his chest. Harry wasn’t listening, he didn’t understand – did he just say he knew there was a trap? “Wait, what?”

“Tell me about the room you’re in!” Harry repeated, louder.

“No – no, the first part,” Kim said, leaning slightly against the wall.

“. . . I know there’s a trap?” Harry sounded confused.

“Yes. You – what do you mean, you handled it? They were trying to kill you.” Kim put one hand flat against the concrete wall in an attempt to steady himself.

“Oh. Don’t worry about it! I brought some backup, they’re clearing out the house right now. I’m only here for you,” Harry said proudly. “So will you please tell me where the fuck you are -”

“What fucking backup?” Kim demanded, baffled. “Torson and McClaine? We don’t have backup.”

“A handful of people from a few different precincts,” Harry said, like a multi-precinct operation was no biggie. “I’m the only one from 41, as a matter of fact – it’s been a busy week, they couldn’t send anyone else. These assholes who kidnapped you were actually just on a huge cross-city crime spree, so everyone in the RCM and their uncle wanted to catch them. I got Pryce to call in a couple favors to get everyone together, but it’s a long story, I’ll explain later. Let me get you out of there first!”

Kim’s head swam. He put his back against the wall, slid down it until he was sitting, and put his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he said, bewildered.

Evidently, Harry heard that. “Kim? Is something wrong?”

Kim opened his mouth but no words came out. He felt like a fish out of water. Blind, breathless, and struck dumb. What the fuck was going on?

Dora crouched down and put a hand on his knee. “Do you want me to talk to him?” She looked concerned, but spoke quietly enough that Harry (probably) couldn’t hear.

Kim took a moment to collect his thoughts – he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and shook his head. “No, I will.” He put his hands against the floor, and slowly pushed himself back to standing.

God, he’d never forgive himself if Harry got hurt.

But.

Kim trusted him. He had to be able to trust him. If Harry said he had it handled. . .

“Kim, are you there? Please talk to me,” Harry called again, sounding worried.

Kim took a steadying breath. “It’s a square concrete basement, give or take six meters on all sides, including vertically. The only exit is a big trapdoor in the middle of the ceiling. Is that enough?”

“Oh thank fuck, I got scared when you went quiet there. Yeah, that’s plenty. I’ll be right down,” Harry promised, and Kim heard heavy footsteps run away.

***

(Four Days Later (to Harry))

VISUAL CALCULUS (Medium: Success) – Right, so if the basement is six by six, and the trapdoor is in the middle, then it’s about three meters in from this wall, should be smack in the middle of the house.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Easy: Success) – There was an office in the middle of the house when you swept through earlier. It had a huge rug. That’s where the trapdoor is.

YOU: It doesn’t take long to get there. A few officers are idling around when you get to the right room, and they nod at you.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Challenging: Success) – Acknowledging you as the lynchpin of this operation.

AUTHORITY (Easy: Success) – As they should.

RHETORIC (Formidable: Failure) – You don’t know why, though. It wasn’t even you who found the fingerprint that pulled it all together. Judit found the note. You didn’t even look at it. You just made some calls.

YOU: You lean down to grab one corner of the rug.

INTERFACING (Medium: Success) – It is a very heavy rug, but you are a stubborn man. You flip up one side, and then kick it to roll it over, till the trapdoor is revealed.

SOME OFFICER IN THE CORNER: She whistles. “Nice find.”

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Challenging: Success) – You grab the handle, flat against a groove in the wood, and pull. Hard. It’s pretty stuck, but it loosens when you brace yourself and put your weight into it. The trapdoor swings up and open.

YOU: “Kim! Hi!” you yell down.

PERCEPTION (Formidable: Success) – It’s dark down there, and the basement is deep, but you see a blur of movement.

KIM KITSURAGI: He steps into the light cast by the open door, unmistakable in his trademark orange, and squints up at you. “It’s good to see you, Lieutenant.” Kim’s tone is almost as cool and collected as ever. Almost. He knows there’s other officers around, he’s trying very hard not to sound too fond. But it’s been a long week.

EMPATHY (Trivial: Success) – He is very happy to see you.

VOLITION (Impossible: Failure) – You can’t help but take a second just to look at him.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Success) – Kim’s usually-bright jacket is dulled from dust. His face is smudged with dirt too. He’s clearly exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes visible even from where you are – but it’s him. It's really him. He’s safe.

+1 Morale

KIM KITSURAGI: “Is there a ladder anywhere?” he prompts.

REACTION SPEED (Impossible: Failure) – Apparently, you looked for just a second too long.

YOU: You hit your forehead. “Right, yeah.” You stand up and look around.

PERCEPTION (Easy: Success) – There’s a door near the front of the room, back where you came in. Probably a closet.

YOU: You check, and voila; a coiled rope ladder, hanging on the wall. That was easy. “Found it!” you yell down to Kim.

KIM KITSURAGI: “Excellent,” he calls back. He’s waiting very patiently, and he’ll keep being patient until you get him the fuck out of there, but he’s still a little restless. He’s probably tapping his foot.

YOU: “Just one more second, I’ve gotta tie it to something.”

PERCEPTION (Challenging: Success) – The desk at the back of the room was made of steel, and bolted to the floor.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – An anchor for the ladder?

YOU: You peer at it.

VISUAL CALCULUS (Easy: Success) – It does seem to be braced much more solidly than the vast majority of desks require. All four legs drilled solidly into the floor, with steel reinforcement beams in ‘x’ shapes between them. This desk could probably hold up at least a few grown men.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Trivial: Success) – . . .

COMPOSURE (Easy: Success) – Shut up.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Medium: Failure) – Didn’t even say anything!

VOLITION (Medium: Success) – Focus.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Success) – There are a pair of thick rings securely welded to the legs at the front of the desk.

SUGGESTION (Trivial: Success) – Tie the rope ladder to those.

INTERFACING (Challenging: Success) – You expertly loop the rope around each ring, tying it safely. You might not know how to tie a knot that can hold a man, but your hands remember.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Trivial: Success) – Climbing rope is a common exercise in physical education classes.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – You had to know how to do this, or it was kids’ lives on the line. The knots will hold.

YOU: Done with tying, you throw the ladder down. “Just a second, Kim – I’m gonna climb down first so we can talk!” Mostly so the two of you don’t have to reunite in full view of at least three other officers, but who’s counting.

VISUAL CALCULUS (Trivial: Success) – Me! I’m always counting.

KIM KITSURAGI: He mutters something you can’t make out, but then responds, “Understood.”

SAVOIR FAIRE (Medium: Success) – The ladder swings as you clamber down, but it’s strong enough, and you slowly, carefully, descend.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Challenging: Success) – None of the other officers think you “took too long” looking down at Kim, by the way. They all have partners, too. They understand. Or at least they think they do.

YOU: Your feet hit the ground hard as you jump off, skipping the bottom three rungs. Your gaze flies immediately to your partner. Something’s off.

KIM KITSURAGI: He backed out of the light as you climbed down, and stands bathed in shadow. He’s taken up his usual waiting pose, with his weight on one leg and his hands behind his back. His jaw clenches as he stares at you with wide eyes and does not move.

PERCEPTION (Challenging: Failure) – He’s trembling, ever so slightly. And there’s something off about the way he’s standing, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – Kim is so relieved to see you. And every bone in his body wants him to throw himself at you – but even more than that, he needs things to stay the same, now more than ever. And you always initiate hugs. It is taking every ounce of his self-control, and then some, to stay still right now. If you don’t give the man a fucking hug –

YOU: The thought doesn’t get the chance to finish. You cross the distance between the two of you in long strides, fold him against your chest, and keep going, half herding and half carrying, until you’re both solidly out of sight from any potential onlookers.

KIM KITSURAGI: It seems he can tell what you’re doing, because he throws his arms around your neck and otherwise lets you push him around. As soon as you’re both safely in the dark, Kim melts against you, pressing his face into your shoulder. Kim’s always been lean, but he’s way too thin now. He’s shaking, and leaning most of his weight on you, but nonetheless gripping you so tightly you have to concentrate to breathe.

YOU: “Kim, oh my god, I was so worried. Are you okay?” You don’t know what the fuck your hands are doing, but it probably doesn’t matter as long as you’re touching him. “Are you hurt? Tell me where.” You tilt his head back to check his face.

KIM KITSURAGI: He doesn’t say anything – just dodges your weird fluttery hands to burrow his face back into your neck.

EMPATHY (Formidable: Success) – Remember how scared Kim sounded through the grate? He thought he was bait for your death trap, and he tried to make you run. He is hurt, but to him, his injuries are chump change compared to how fuckdamn terrified he was for your life less than five minutes ago. He’s not relieved for himself, he’s relieved for YOU.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – Kim isn’t going to let you out of his sight for a month. But that’s probably for the best, because you won’t let him out of yours.

SUGGESTION (Challenging: Success) – Don’t say any stupid reassuring platitudes. “You’re safe,” and “It’s okay,” and “I’ve got you.” Just. Don’t.

EMPATHY (Legendary: Success) – It’s not stupid to say that stuff. It’s just that Kim’s about a second and a half away from crying, and crying is the very last thing he wants to do right now. He’s got a lid on it for the time being, but he absolutely will cry if he hears a word of that shit, and he will die of embarrassment if he climbs out of this fucking hole after getting kidnapped off the street with a tearstained face for half the RCM to see. He just wants you to hold him. It’s okay.

LOGIC (Trivial: Success) – It’s not half the RCM. It’s barely a dozen officers, including the two of you.

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) – There’s no difference to Kim. Word travels fast. He’s worked too hard for his reputation to jeopardize it now by sobbing like a baby.

YOU: You press a kiss to the side of Kim’s head, and cling to him like a lifeline. Fuck, but he’s bony. And you’ve really gotta pay attention to his injuries. He might not care about them for the time being, but that just means you’ve gotta care enough for the both of you.

PERCEPTION (Medium: Failure) – Oh! It was his leg that looked off a second ago. He always puts his weight on the same leg when he waits, and he was standing on the wrong one. He’s leaning on you instead of standing on it right now.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) – Don’t assume – ask him about it. He likes when you ask.

YOU: You lean back just enough to look at him, and move your hand so you’re holding his face. “I mean it, Kim. Where are you hurt?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He looks displeased at the removal of his face from your neck. “My leg,” he replies, looking down and shifting the one he’s keeping weight off of. “But it’s not that bad.”

YOU: “Can you climb a rope ladder with it?” You jerk your head backwards to point at it.

KIM KITSURAGI: His eyebrows pinch together unhappily at the thought, but dismisses it with a shake of his head. “I’m sure I can handle it,” he says, without much confidence.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Challenging: Success) – He shouldn’t try.

YOU: You hesitate, trying not to insult him. “I just don’t want you overextending yourself. Do you know what’s wrong with it?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He frowns again. “No, I haven’t checked – it wasn't bothering me enough to warrant the attention.”

RHETORIC (Medium: Success) – Key word, wasn't. It is bothering him now. Something must have happened to make it worse.

PERCEPTION (Easy: Failure) – That side of his trousers looks way more scraped up than the rest of him. You can pretty solidly guess that he fell on it badly in the fight that broke his glasses, but hold your conclusions until he lets you see it.

YOU: “How bad does it hurt? Can you put your weight on it? Have you tried wiggling your toes.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He rolls his eyes and huffs. “I would know and tell you if it were broken, Detective. It’s probably just a sprain.”

RHETORIC (Easy: Success) – Normally, he calls you “Lieutenant” at work, and Harry at home. He only just recently started calling you “Detective” when he’s annoyed, instead of “Officer” like he used to. Like he promoted you in his head. Outside of work, if he’s annoyed, he calls you Harrier. You think it’s cute as fuck, but you’d never say so to his face. The last (and only) time you called him cute, he ignored you for an hour.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – You know how Kim is when it comes to being taken care of. He hates feeling like his control has been undermined, and he hates feeling “babied”, even if whatever you’re doing is not babying in the slightest, but in fact normal support for a comrade in need. He doesn’t want to be seen as incapable for even a second.

SUGGESTION (Challenging: Success) – So whatever help you offer him, frame it like it’s something you want. Like he’s doing you a favor by accepting.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – He’s not stupid; he’ll know what you really mean. But reframing it will make it easier to ignore his pride. Tread carefully.

YOU: “I don’t. . . I didn’t mean to be overbearing. I just don’t want you hurting any more than you have to.” You decide not to make a definitive suggestion just yet; you’ll ask if he’ll let you carry him in a minute. After you’ve gotten to soak him up a little longer. You cradle his face, brush your thumb over his cheekbones, and kiss his forehead.

PERCEPTION (Trivial: Failure) – Kim looks so exhausted. You noticed, once, that dark circles on Kim make him look younger rather than older. Holding to that observation, Kim looks younger than you’ve ever seen him. It doesn’t help that without his glasses, he looks like a completely different person. Not that you don’t see his bare glassesless face nightly, but with the whole miserable picture put together. . .

INLAND EMPIRE (Formidable: Failure) – Your head is a gun whose trigger is being pulled repeatedly, desperately, but is only getting little click-click-clicks in response. Are you out of bullets? Are you jammed? Whatever it is, be sure to keep the safety on until you understand the problem.

YOU: Wait, what? What the fuck does that mean?

COMPOSURE (Difficult: Success) – You want to carry him all the way home, wrap him in a thick blanket, and not let him out for a week. You’re not going to try, because he’d probably break up with you if you even raised the suggestion of a blanket burrito, but the desire is there. You can put a throw` around his shoulders about it later – he’s been known to accept that when he’s feeling under the weather.

YOU: Can we go back to that gun thing? What the fuck was that?

EMPATHY (Challenging: Success) – He wouldn’t break up with you, but he would find the idea insultingly juvenile. It’ll be a definite yes to the shoulder-blanket, though.

KIM KITSURAGI: He replaces his face in the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist, a little looser this time, and lets out a soft little sigh. Reveling in your presence. Letting himself relax for the first time in five days.

EMPATHY (Godly: Success) – Uh, yeah, no, actually! Kim would be WAY more tense if he’d been wound up this whole time. He probably would be crying already, if he were as freaked out as you thought he’d be. It’s probably only been, oh, the past twelve hours or so that he’s been utterly terrified? Mind you, it’s not like he hasn’t been stressed, it’s just that he’s been a lot less stressed than you originally assumed.

YOU: What? He’s been captured in a basement, alone with no glasses, for a hundred and twenty hours. And he’s only been truly scared for the past day? What happened in the first hundred hours?

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – Kim doesn’t let his guard down unless he knows he’s totally alone, or if he’s got someone he trusts watching his back. Especially without his glasses.

LOGIC (Medium: Success) – There’s no way for him to know who was hanging around outside this basement. He most certainly wasn’t alone. So there must have been someone trustworthy around.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Legendary: Failure) – That doesn’t make any fucking sense. He doesn’t trust anyone other than you. Who the fuck around here does he trust?

PERCEPTION (Impossible: Success) – Oh! By the way, there’s a woman over there.

Chapter Text

Harry’s footsteps faded from the grate. As soon as he was gone, Kim turned to Dora urgently. “Follow my lead.”

Dora scrunched her eyebrows. “What?”

“When Harry gets here. I mean – ” A little too urgently, it seemed. Kim’s words had got ahead of his mouth. He took a breath to refocus. “There’s no telling what’ll happen when he sees you. Just follow my lead until we have a handle on the situation.”

“You got a plan?” Dora sounded beyond dubious.

“I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do yet. All I’m concerned with,” and here Kim paused briefly to collect his thoughts, “is that it bothers Harry to be made aware of what he’s forgotten. He doesn’t like to know that he doesn’t know something.”

Dora snorted. “Never would have guessed.”

Kim’s eyebrow twitched. “You know what I mean. There’s too much going on right now – I don’t want to overwhelm him. If he remembers, we’ll handle it, but if he doesn’t, it might be best to wait and see. Knowing who you are will complicate things.”

She took a moment to respond, frowning. “He’ll see right through you. He’ll know you’re hiding something. He always does.”

“I know,” Kim said simply.

***

YOU: You stare uncomprehendingly at the random woman standing six feet away.

STRANGE WOMAN: She stares back with an inscrutable expression on her face. Blinks slowly at you. Folds her arms.

YOU: You blink slowly back.

INLAND EMPIRE (Impossible: Failure) – Check the safety, big man! Click, click, click.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Impossible: Failure) – Has she been standing there this whole fucking time?

LOGIC (Trivial: Success) – She must have been. She didn’t come down from the ladder.

PERCEPTION (Challenging: Success) – And besides, she looks like she’s in basically the same shape as Kim. Minus a few scrapes, maybe.

LOGIC (Easy: Success) – They’ve been down here together this whole time.

YOU: Softly, to Kim’s hair, you whisper loudly, “Did you make a new friend?”

KIM KITSURAGI: His mouth twitches against your collarbone. “I did.”

YOU: “What’s her name?”

STRANGE WOMAN: Her eyebrows flicker, but she otherwise does not move.

VOLITION (Impossible: Failure) – Now, that’s impressive.

KIM KITSURAGI: “She prefers not to say,” he says quietly. “I’ve been referring to her as Doorknob, myself.”

RHETORIC (Godly: Success) – That's some real careful wording, right there.

YOU: “Do you know, though?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He hesitates for just a second too long before replying. “No.”

AUTHORITY (Medium: Success) – He’s lying.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Challenging: Failure) – No. What? Why the fuck would he lie to you?

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – He doesn’t want to lie. Kim hates lying to you. Because you can almost always see right through him, yes, but also because he doesn’t like being dishonest with his friends. He only likes people he can be genuine with. He would never lie to you unless he had a damn good reason to.

LOGIC (Godly: Success) – Look at the facts. Kim’s spent almost a week down here with this woman. Clearly, he doesn’t mind being affectionate with you in front of her, so he must trust her. Furthermore, he knows you know he’s lying to you. So, he must be doing it to send a message.

INLAND EMPIRE (Challenging: Success) – “Trust me. Don’t question me. Please, let this go.”

SUGGESTION (Formidable: Success) – Kim knows her better than you. Knows more about the situation than you do. It doesn’t matter if you don’t trust her – you can trust him. Let her keep her secrets.

YOU: You press a kiss into Kim’s hair. “Okay.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He hugs you tighter for a moment, then pulls back to look at your face as best he can. Kim doesn’t generally emote with his face other than his eyebrows most of the time, but you’re sure you see a flicker of gratitude.

REACTION SPEED (Legendary: Success) – Distracted by Kim again, you just barely catch as the woman’s eyebrows fly upwards, before she catches you looking and her face goes flat again.

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – Surprise? At what?

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Impossible: Failure) – Fuck if any of us know. Probably doesn’t matter.

INLAND EMPIRE (Impossible: Failure) – Click, click, click. Brain-gun’s still jammed.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) – You should leave. It’s time to go home.

YOU: “We should go. Kim –”

KIM KITSURAGI: He looks up at you and arches an eyebrow.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – He knows exactly what you’re about to ask. He resents it.

PAIN THRESHOLD (Challenging: Success) – But he really shouldn’t climb that ladder on his own. His leg hurts enough leaning on you, on solid ground, without any weight on it. The chances of it giving out on the way up are far too high, and he knows it.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) – Remember what I said earlier. Make it a favor that he’s doing for you, not the other way around.

YOU: You shuffle your feet a little, sheepishly. “I don’t want to let go of you. And I don’t like seeing you in pain. Can I please carry you up the ladder? When we get up there, you could lean on me and pretend you can’t use your leg at all, so people don’t judge you for it.”

KIM KITSURAGI: As you speak, Kim’s eyebrows pinch together in a frown. He sighs, defeated.

RHETORIC (Challenging: Success) – Your proposal was phrased well. Tugs on all the right heartstrings, offers a solution to offset potential social consequences.

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – He’s going to give in, he just hates the idea of being carried. Especially in front of so many colleagues.

KIM KITSURAGI: His jaw twitches. He stares at the wall behind you for a long moment and grumbles, “I hate this.”

YOU: “I know. I’m sorry.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He pulls back a little to look at the ladder, and purses his lips unhappily. “Let’s get it over with. What’s your plan?”

YOU: “Piggyback is the only way to do it. Unless you have a different idea?”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: Behind Kim, she snorts.

YOU: You forgot she was there again. “Is something funny?”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She recovers total control of her face almost as fast as Kim usually does. “Sure. Piggyback.”

RHETORIC (Easy: Success) – Cop pun. It’s literally piggyback. She’s right, it is funny.

KIM KITSURAGI: Evidently, Kim doesn’t agree. He glares at her.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She responds with a shit-eating grin that Kim can’t even see.

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – You are baffled as to how this woman has earned Kim’s trust so thoroughly.

YOU: “Come on,” you say, tugging on Kim’s elbow a little. “Ignore her. We have to go.”

KIM KITSURAGI: A weird look crosses Kim’s face, but he follows you, casting another look behind him. You don’t see that one, but you don’t really care to.

PERCEPTION (Formidable: Success) – You hear a little nose-exhale laugh behind you, and her footsteps as she follows you towards the ladder at a polite distance behind.

SAVOIR FAIRE (Challenging: Success) – It takes a little bit of wrangling, but the two of you manage to get Kim on your back, arms around your shoulders, legs around your waist.

KIM KITSURAGI: He tightens his grip on your shoulder. “Harry. Are you sure you can do this? You don’t have to.”

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – Worried he’ll hurt you. Doesn’t want you to break your back for him. He’s trying to give you a final out.

ENDURANCE (Legendary: Success) – You’ve carried heavier for much longer, bröther. It’s been a while since you’ve done lifting quite like this, but you’ve been working out recently – you can pull this off.

YOU: “It’s okay. You’re lighter than usual, I can handle it.” You turn to the mysterious woman. “Can you hold the ladder still while we’re going up, so it doesn’t sway as much? That’ll make it easier.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She nods. “Yeah, I can do that. You mean pull down on it?”

YOU: “Yeah, exactly.” You wait for her to get into position, and then you start climbing.

Chapter Text

Kim’s ears burned as Harry pulled them both into the room above. It was brightly lit, which meant that after a week in a dark pit, he could see so little he might as well have been blindfolded.

Harry flopped over, out of breath. Kim sat down right next to him and kept one hand on his shoulder, just to keep track of him as he squinted through the light. He wanted to lie down with Harry, but he couldn’t afford that kind of vulnerability.

“Are you okay?” Kim asked, very quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, no worries,” Harry panted. “I’ll be up in just a sec.”

“Take your time.” Kim patted Harry’s shoulder awkwardly. He was itching to get out, but rushing Harry wouldn’t do either of them any good. As he waited, he stared at the floorboards and tried to get accustomed to the light.

Dora climbed up soon afterward – he watched her vague shape as it rose from the dark opening and settled an arm’s reach away. “So, what are all your names?” she asked politely, presumably glancing around the room. Kim was sure she didn’t actually care – she was asking for his benefit, and he highly appreciated it. They introduced themselves by name, rank, and precinct, and Dora pushed Kim lightly. “Anyone you know?”

Kim shook his head. “No.” As an afterthought, he added, “But I appreciate their help.”

Dora thanked them as well, and the officers all muttered platitudes like “No problem,” “Don’t worry about it,” and “Yeah, of course.” The conversation died there, and they all went back to whatever they had been doing without further comment.

Harry had a lot of explaining to do.

Luckily, at that moment Harry decided to push himself upright. “Okay,” he said, voice still a little breathier than usual, “I think I’m good to head out, if you’re ready?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Kim agreed immediately.

Harry stood first, then helped Kim up, slinging his arm around his shoulders. He offered a hand to Dora, but she waved him away and got up on her own. “All right, let’s go.”

The three of them traipsed out, Harry half-leading, half-carrying Kim carefully. Dora hovered some ten feet behind. To Kim’s growing dread, he could hear whispers all down the hallway as they walked. It was almost certainly gossip, why else would they be so concerned with staying unheard – but what were they gossiping about?

“Tell me if you see anyone I should know,” Kim muttered to Harry.

Harry nodded. “I’ll try, but I don’t know everyone you know. I can tell you there’s a pair from 57 somewhere around here, if that helps?”

Kim’s face twitched. “That depends on who they are. Do you remember their names, or what they look like?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t met them. Pryce just said 57 sent a couple guys. Everyone was joking about it, but no one had any names. Sorry.”

Kim sighed. “It’s okay.”

But Harry didn’t like letting Kim down. “I can try to find out, if you want? I can ask around? Maybe it’s some old friends of yours!”

Kim shook his head. “I appreciate that, but I’d rather just get out quietly. There weren’t many people at the 57^th that I considered friends. I just wondered.” As a matter of fact, present company excluded, there was absolutely no one that Kim would be happy to hear from at the moment – but there were several he’d most certainly rather not encounter. Really, he just hoped to know who he should brace himself for. But hopefully, they’d be able to leave without fanfare.

Of course, luck was not so kind.

They’d gotten several long strides outside (dark again, thank God, that light stung) when someone came up behind them and said, “Hey, Kimball!”

Harry froze and turned. Kim hobbled around with him, grinding his teeth at the nickname. There were two officers – both men, both uniformed. The one on the left had dark hair, and the one on the right had light. Kim couldn’t tell much else about them, but the voice sounded familiar in a way that sent ice down Kim’s spine.

“You’re just gonna leave without thanking your old teammates who helped you?” said a different voice, the man on the left, with dark hair. As uncomfortably familiar as the first voice, but Kim couldn’t put his thumb on names for either of them.

Kim sighed heavily. “You have my gratitude.” He deliberately did not fill his voice with dripping sarcasm, because he was a professional, damn it – but he deeply hoped they all knew it was implied.

“Great! That’s great,” said the first one who spoke, the light-haired one. “So the boys wanted us to ask – how’s the 51^st treating you? Having fun?”

“It’s a blast,” Kim said shortly. He was being rude, but for once in his life he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had a handful of guesses as to which of his former coworkers these men might be, and he didn’t want to engage with a single one of them. “We should go. Good night, officers.”

“Wait!” said the dark-haired one, before they could limp away. “Boys also wanted us to ask – was it nice, getting a whole new set of eyes?”

Kim’s whole body stiffened, and his mind went blank.

“No, no,” said the light-haired one, condescendingly. “That’s not a pair of Eyes. That’s a seeing-eye dog.”

And Kim saw red.

***

REACTION SPEED (Godly: Failure) – Where’d Kim go?

PERCEPTION (Medium: Success) – The sound of high-speed impact flesh against flesh. A grunt – you look up to see the blond officer stumbling back, clutching his face.

KIM KITSURAGI: He stands there, fists clenched. The way he’s braced himself for a fight, you’d hardly guess his leg was bothering him if you didn’t know right where to look. His back is to you, but you know without seeing that his face is murder.

HALF LIGHT (Medium: Failure) – Holy shit.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Trivial: Success) – Holy SHIT.

COMPOSURE (Difficult: Success) – For fuck’s sake, can you calm down, oh my God. You’ve got to get Kim out of here.

BROWN-HAIRED OFFICER: He looks furious. He shifts forward.

REACTION SPEED (Challenging: Success) – You see him start to move before he actually gets anywhere, and quickly put yourself in front of Kim.

YOU: “That’s enough. We’re leaving.”

BROWN-HAIRED OFFICER: “He hit my partner!” You’ve stymied his impending attack by getting between him and Kim, but his hands are still balled with rage.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Easy: Success) – He’s itching for a fight. He doesn’t really care who.

AUTHORITY (Formidable: Failure) – Who the fuck does this jackass think he’s talking to? He deserves a broken nose just as much as his stupid fucking partner did. Show him his fucking place.

VOLITION (Medium: Success) – No. Don’t escalate this any further.

DRAMA (Challenging: Success) – You can, however, write the narrative, Sire! You have the undivided attention of everyone in the vicinity. Within the week, every cop in Revachol will know that Kim Kitsuragi punched another officer. But the vast majority did not witness the events leading up to the hit. Project your voice, speak confidently. Everyone will recount the events as YOU describe them.

RHETORIC (Medium: Success) – Kim’s painstakingly curated, spotless reputation is in your hands. Don’t fuck this up or you’ll ruin his life. No pressure.

COMPOSURE (Legendary: Failure) – Ohhhhhhhbgh, fuck.

VOLITION (Godly: Success) – Shut up. We can do this. We have to.

YOU: “Sure he did. I don’t really give a shit. ‘Cause I don’t know if you heard the words coming out of your mouths just now, but you and your partner said some really fucked-up things to him, and before that he spent the week in a concrete fucking basement. I wouldn’t’ve blamed Kim if he took my gun out of my belt and shot the asshole for talking like that. I think you two are getting off easy. So why don’t we call it even, and all go our separate ways?”

BROWN-HAIRED OFFICER: That just gets him madder. “He LEFT our precinct and HIT my partner after we came all the way the fuck out here to SAVE his ass! I’m not gonna take that shit lying down!”

VISUAL CALCULUS (Trivial: Success) – You’re about four inches taller than him, and easily twice as heavy.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Medium: Success) – He’s not gonna fight you. He knows he won’t win, he just wants to look tough. Scare him off. Hit the roof.

YOU: “What the FUCK is wrong with you? He thanked you for coming out, like you asked, which was fucked up and humiliating of you to make him do as it is, but he fucking did it anyway, because he’s a good fucking guy. And then you two mocked his dead friend, your old coworker, for what, fucking funsies? And you expected HIM to take it lying down, but you can’t handle your buddy getting a goddamn right hook? Have you ever lost a fucking partner, Officer? Get the fuck out of my face.”

BROWN-HAIRED OFFICER: He stands there, twitching furiously. But slowly, he seems to become aware of the witnesses. Disgusted at him. Their sympathy reserved for Kim.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – Kim hates pity. He’d almost rather take the hit to his flawless reputation. Almost.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Godly: Failure) – Pity will not be the way anyone remembers this event. They feel bad for Kim now, because they’re looking right at him and he’s just been grievously insulted while looking like shit. But they’ll go back to their squads and recount how Kim understandably defended himself from an officer who was being pointlessly cruel. It will probably get back to Pryce before either of you have a chance to tell him yourselves – and Pryce won’t hardly give a shit. Depending on who he hears it from and how they phrase it, he might even be proud. On the other hand, these assholes will get told off for mocking an officer in crisis. Their coworkers at the 57^th may not have liked Kim as a person, but many remember how good he was to work with, and they won’t appreciate hearing that these men tried to hurt him while he was down. Anyone who remembers Kim’s partner will be particularly displeased. This won’t do any damage to their careers, but it does have pretty significant social consequences.

RHETORIC (Legendary: Success) – You couldn’t have pulled that off any more beautifully.

DRAMA (Trivial: Success) – Glorious, Sire. Take a bow.

BROWN-HAIRED OFFICER: Seemingly made up his mind, he whips around, grabs his partner (whose nose IS broken, bleeding copiously) by the wrist, and stalks away.

YOU: After watching the pair get a safe distance away, you finally turn back to your own partner, again repressing the urge to pick him up and run away where no one can ever hurt him again.

KIM KITSURAGI: He’s just fucking standing there, leaning on the mysterious woman, eyes wide as saucers. Staring at you.

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – You can’t tell if he wants to jump your bones or kill you.

YOU: You spread your hands, and take a couple careful steps towards him. “You good, Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI: His eyes fixate on your face, and he reaches for your shoulder again.

HALF LIGHT (Difficult: Failure) – That’s a murderous look if I ever did see one.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Difficult: Failure) – He wants to fuck you till you can’t walk so bad you have to call off work.

SUGGESTION (Legendary: Success) – Have we considered that this might possibly be a false dichotomy?

YOU: You decide it doesn’t matter, and go to him anyway, presenting yourself yet again as a crutch.

KIM KITSURAGI: He curls an arm over your shoulder, and adjusts himself between you and the woman, seemingly unwilling to let either of you go.

REACTION SPEED (Medium: Success) – He gets just a little bit closer to you than he had been a minute ago.

EMPATHY (Difficult: Success) – Oh, thank fuck above, he’s not mad. Oh, holy shit.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: You exchange a look with her over Kim’s head, and the two of you silently sort yourselves out, so you’re both supporting Kim and not touching each other.

YOU: “Come on, Kim, let’s go.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He tightens his grip on you, and says something so softly, it very nearly gets lost to the wind.

PERCEPTION (Formidable: Success) – “Please.”

YOU: So you rub his back with your thumb ever so briefly, and the three of you head towards the Kineema. He doesn’t like you borrowing it, you know that, but you weren’t about to beg anyone else in the precinct for a ride, and you figured he’d feel more comfortable in his own vehicle on the way back, anyway.

KIM KITSURAGI: You can feel when he’s recognized it – half the tension in his back melts away, and he leans into you even more. “You took my motor-carriage,” he comments quietly.

YOU: “I did. Had to get out here somehow. Sorry, though.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He sighs. “It’s okay. It’ll be nice to be back in it.”

YOU: “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She makes a little excited noise. “Is that the Kineema you were telling me about? It’s beautiful!”

KIM KITSURAGI: He puffs up a little, like he always does when the Kineema receives a compliment. “Thank you. Would you like a ride?”

AUTHORITY (Challenging: Failure) – We did not authorize strangers-

RHETORIC (Trivial: Success) – Oh, shut up. Kim’s car, Kim’s rules, no matter who’s driving. If he wants to take his new friend for a spin, that’s his call to make.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: Her gaze flicks briefly, unreadably, towards you before she says, “Sure!”

KIM KITSURAGI: “We can drop you off wherever, it’s not a problem.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She nods enthusiastically.

SAVOIR FAIRE (Impossible: Failure) – When you reach the bumper of the car, the two of you do an odd little wiggle – like you’re both trying to go in equal and opposite directions at the same time.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Easy: Success) – Muscle memory and miscommunication on both your parts. Kim always gets into the driver’s seat, and you always get the passenger’s. You tried to take him around to the other side, while he tried to take his usual spot. He’s still trying, actually.

YOU: “Kim,” you say, putting a hand on the arm that is both trying to hobble away and hang onto you simultaneously. “I’m driving.”

KIM KITSURAGI: His eyebrows furrow, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I hate your driving.”

YOU: You pat his arm again. “I know you do, but you don’t have your glasses, and you don’t even know where we are. It’ll be okay.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She’s gone stock-still on the other side of Kim, suddenly. Her forehead is creased with worry as she leans back and steps away. “I could always drive. Uh, if Kim wanted me to?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He frowns. “You said you hated driving.”

YOU: “Don’t worry about it! My driving is fine, I just don’t drive like Kim does.” You reach for the handle.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: Abruptly, she slaps a window. “No, really, I mean it. It’d be no trouble.” Her face. . .

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – . . . is absurdly scared. She does not want you to get into that driver’s seat.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Impossible: Failure) – Why?

KIM KITSURAGI: Luckily for you, comprehension flashes across his face. He leans on the Kineema and takes a couple of steps away from you, towards her. “Listen – it’s okay. Get in, and we can explain. But I promise it’s okay.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She stares at him warily for a few seconds, jaw twitching, then finally climbs into the backseat.

YOU: You help Kim around to the passenger side, then return to the driver’s and finally climb in. “What’s wrong?”

KIM KITSURAGI: “Nothing. Everything’s fine. . .” He seems to be choosing his words very carefully. “It’s just that she’s got family in Jamrock, she visits sometimes. Your reputation precedes you.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Difficult: Failure) – So what?

YOU: “So what?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He gives you the Look that he reserves for when he can’t tell if you’re being truly idiotic, or deliberately obtuse.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Trivial: Success) – It’s the first one.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She’s leaned forward, gaze flicking between the two of you intently.

KIM KITSURAGI: “Harry.”

YOU: “Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI: His jaw twitches. “What reason might someone have had, a few years ago, to not want to be a passenger in a motor-carriage that you were driving?”

YOU: You wrack your brain, fingers tapping against the wheel. “Fuck, I wouldn’t wanna be in a motor-carriage I was driving, a few years ago. That’s the shit that ends up in frozen rivers.”

KIM KITSURAGI: He’s unimpressed. “That’s not funny.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – Oh shit, that’s it, though, isn’t it? She thinks you’re a drunk!

YOU: As it clicks, you make an understanding noise and turn to explain yourself to the woman’s face. “Oh, fuck! Sorry! – sorry, I’m not drunk, I swear. I’ve been sober for months now, those are old rumors. I got my license reinstated a while ago, but I must have had it before, it’s just like riding a bike, it came back to me really quickly. I’m a great driver!”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: It looks like the information hit like a flying brick to the face, she’s so taken aback. “Oh. Oh! Congratulations,” she says faintly. “That’s – great. Thanks for clarifying.”

SHIVERS (Impossible: Failure) – The temperature seems to have dropped about eleven degrees, but you don’t have half a clue why.

YOU: You look back at her again, and give her a wry grin. “Thanks! You seem surprised.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She’s already regained command of her features. “A little. Sorry. I just – I’ve had a few friends who are alcoholics. I know how hard it is to quit. That’s impressive.”

YOU: “Couldn’t have done it without Kim,” you say fondly, nudging him.

KIM KITSURAGI: His ears go pink, and he’s avoiding eye contact. “You shouldn’t give me credit, you did all the hard work. I was just the right person at the right time. That’s all.”

YOU: You shrug. “Point stands – it wouldn’t have happened without you. I’d probably be dead in a ditch right now, without you and your ‘right person at the right time.’” The last part, you put in air quotes.

KIM KITSURAGI: He scrubs his hand across his face and looks out the window, ears turning steadily redder. “I’m glad I was there to help.”

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – There are a whole lot of emotions going on in this motor-carriage right now, and every single motherfucking one is escaping you.

ESPRIT DE CORPS (Medium: Success) – He meant what he said, though. With all his heart.

SUGGESTION (Formidable: Success) – I wouldn’t look at her face right now, if I were you. Change the subject.

YOU: You give Kim another fond look, but his ears are still flushed, and he’s still not looking at you. So you drum your fingers on the steering wheel. “All right, glad we got that sorted. So where are we headed?”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She freezes, then frowns, and finally puts her face in her hands. “Wait. Oh, fuck.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Impossible: Failure) – Wrong subject.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: “Fuck. I don’t – I almost forgot. I don’t know. My parents live somewhere in Jamrock, but they moved a while back, and I haven’t been to the new place yet. They were supposed to pick me up from the aerostatic. I don’t know where it is.”

YOU: You don’t even hesitate. “Do you want to stay with us?”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She pauses, visibly stunned, then whips her head up to look at you incredulously. “Are you serious?”

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – Not gonna lie, I’m gonna be pretty useless for this conversation. Is she relieved? Is she offended? Who can even say anymore. Not this bitch.

SUGGESTION (Challenging: Success) – Try to explain your reasoning.

YOU: You backtrack a little, allowing your brain to catch up with your mouth. “I just figured – I mean, you and Kim are friends, right? And I’m not going to abandon you in the middle of Jamrock, you’d get murdered or worse. You could sleep on the couch, if you didn’t have anywhere else to go. If you want?”

KIM KITSURAGI: He’s staring at you, chin set in his palm, fingers covering his mouth. You can’t read his face for the life of you. “Oh, can she, now?”

YOU: You frown. “Do you have a better idea? You’re not about to leave her to the Jamrockian wilderness” at that, you do a dramatic little hand gesture, “any more than I am. Come on, Kim, where’s she going to go?” You turn back to her. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable – it’s up to you.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Formidable: Failure) – Why is everyone around you so fucking good at keeping their expressions blank? This is obnoxious.

INLAND EMPIRE (Legendary: Failure) – Hmmmmm, I wonder.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She narrows her eyes at you, but otherwise her face remains neutral. “Except, as you just pointed out, I don’t really have a better choice, do I? So it’s not really up to me, is it?”

YOU: You scrunch your face, stymied. “Well – That’s not – I mean, if you know your family’s phone number, you could always call them? To ask them for the address? I’m sure we have change for a payphone somewhere around here. Or I could find the address, if you’d give me their names?”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She looks at you inscrutably for a very long moment, then closes her eyes, tips her head back against the headrest, and sighs exasperatedly. “He’s not just fucking with me, is he?”

YOU: “Why would I be fucking with you?”

KIM KITSURAGI: “No. He’s not.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She groans. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Fine. I’ll come back with you.”

YOU: “Are you sure? I’ll take you anywhere else. We could still find your family.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She sits up and frowns out the window, resigned. “Ugh, no. It’s too late. I’d rather just crash on your couch and track them down tomorrow. It’s fine. Thanks, though.”

YOU: “Anytime.” Finally, you turn the key in the ignition. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Chapter Text

As soon as he heard the familiar sound of the engine turning over, Kim closed his eyes and breathed easy for the first time in days.

Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly call the rest of the ride relaxing.

It didn't take long.

Kim drummed his fingers against the doorknob. And his knee. And the dashboard.

Tapped his foot. Tapped both feet. Crossed one leg over the other, discovered that made his leg hurt like a bitch, crossed them the other way just to learn that was even worse, then put both feet back on the floor to resume tapping them again.

It took gently hitting his head against the headrest for Harry to finally take action – he took one hand off the wheel and put it on top of Kim’s head, mid-bounce.

“Kim.” Harry sounded disapproving. “It’s not that bad.”

“We should have been home by now,” Kim grumbled, shoving Harry’s hand off and resuming his drumming.

“You don’t even know where we started from!”

“Was it in Jamrock?” At Harry’s confirming hum, Kim shook his head. “Then it doesn’t matter. You can get anywhere in Jamrock within fifteen minutes. We should be home already.”

“That’s not true,” said Dora, at the exact same time Harry said, “No, you can’t!”

“You can if you don’t drive like a grandmother,” Kim insisted.

Harry huffed. “I’m going the speed limit.”

“Is the speed limit ten kilometers per hour?”

“Twenty-five, actually. Which is what I’m going. It’s a school zone.”

“School zones are thirty!”

“I don’t want to go too fast, it’s residential.”

“It is the middle of the night, Harrier. No one else is around.”

“You never know who might be around!”

“Then turn the siren on.”

“I’m not turning the siren on just to get home five minutes faster, Kim!”

“You are an officer of the law, you have every right –”

“I am not going to turn the siren on and wake everyone up when –”

The argument was interrupted by Dora in the backseat, bursting into laughter.

Kim turned on her. “Is something funny to you?”

Covering her mouth with her hand, she said, still laughing, “Where the fuck did all that patience go?”

Kim was sure Harry was suppressing a grin. He could hear it. “Kim’s never patient in a motor-carriage he’s not driving,” said Harry, infuriatingly reasonable. “Especially if it’s me driving just the two of us. He likes going fast.”

That was. . . rather generous of Harry, actually. Kim was acting significantly more impatient than usual, and they both knew it. But knowing that on a logical level didn’t do much to improve his mood. “I prefer to arrive at my destination in a timely manner that does not involve going so slow we might as well be driving backwards.” Kim folded his arms and stared uselessly out the window.

“We’re gonna get there soon, Kim. I promise I’m not driving backwards. Do you want some music?”

Kim slapped Harry’s hand away from the radio. “This snail’s pace doesn’t deserve my music.”

Now, Kim really could hear Harry laughing through his nose. “Okay, then.”

They sat in silence for a moment, until something nudged at Kim’s leg. He looked down, then over to Harry, then back down to identify the proffered object as Harry’s outstretched hand, palm upwards. He took it begrudgingly, and resumed staring out the window.

Soon, Dora spoke up again. “So, uh – what was that fight about? I mean, obviously I heard most of it, but. . .”

The topic change hit Kim like a brick, and he stiffened, putting Harry’s poor hand into a death grip. “Nothing. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Mercifully, Harry did not attempt to extract his hand. “It wasn’t stupid,” he said quietly. “They were being fucking awful.”

“You think they’re the first?” Kim hated how sharp he sounded, but could not find it in himself to soften his tone. He knew Harry understood. “I can’t go around punching every person who makes fun of me. I’d have to punch eighty percent of the city. Harry, I’m going to get fired.”

“They’re not gonna fire you, Kim.”

“You don’t know that.” Kim wasn’t going to start shaking. He wasn’t.

“If they fired everyone who hit anyone in the 41^st, there wouldn’t be anyone left. You –” Harry stopped to consider his words, squeezing Kim’s hand. “There are dozens of reasons I could give you for why they won’t fire you. But first and foremost, they can’t afford to lose you. They don’t care about a single punch. And anyways –”

“It’s not the same, Harrier –“ Kim began, but Harry interrupted him back, speaking much louder.

“And anyways, you couldn’t have chosen a better asshole to punch than an asshole from the 57^th, you know? Like, to the 41^st, that’s basically a declaration of undying allegiance. Especially from you. I mean. . .” Harry trailed off.

Kim guessed there was something more behind what he was saying than the stupid inter-precinct feud. “Did something happen?”

“I – well, not really. Kind of. But it doesn’t matter, really. It was stupid.” Which meant something had definitely happened.

Kim took a moment to calm himself, and loosened his grip enough to brush his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand. “Tell me.”

“It’s just – I swear, Kim, it’s stupid, you shouldn’t worry about it.” But at Kim’s frown, he folded easily. “It’s just. Jean didn’t want to help me find you when I first figured out you were missing. He thought you went back to the 57^th. I think – I think some people think you’re too good to be true, sometimes. But this is kinda proof that you’re here to stay. For them, at least. I don’t need proof. Obviously.”

Kim rolled that around in his mind for a moment, then hummed. “What a jackass. Maybe I’ll have to hit Jean next.”

Harry seemed to think that was funny, until very abruptly it was not. “Fuck, Kim, don’t actually do that. Please? Let me handle the Jean punching. If it ever comes to that, which it shouldn’t, I can usually just yell at him if he’s being a real dick –”

“It was a joke. I’m not doing that again.”

“Oh. Good.”

They went quiet again.

But Harry never could stand silences.

“It was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, by the way, Kim. Just so you know.”

Ears suddenly on fire, Kim forced his features to remain still, and avoided the rearview mirror like the plague. “You don’t even remember most of your life.”

“Doesn’t matter. You didn’t see yourself. It was so fucking cool, Kim. It was such hot shit, you don’t even know.” Harry squeezed Kim’s hand. “I mean it. Hottest thing ever.”

“In that case, I’m glad you got to see it,” said Kim, giving Harry a tiny smile. “Because, like I said, I will never, ever let it happen again.”

“Why’s that?” asked Dora, tuned in at the most inopportune time. (On purpose, Kim guessed.)

“Because generally speaking, I don’t find punching colleagues to be a particularly rewarding pastime,” Kim replied. He squeezed Harry’s hand back. “But for the record, Harry, I appreciate how you handled things afterward. I wasn’t thinking when I threw that punch – I would have ended up in a fight I couldn’t finish if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Harry’s smile lit up the whole cabin, Kim knew, even if he couldn’t really make it out. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun. That other fucker had to be put in his place, too. Do you know who they were?”

Kim shook his head. “The voices were familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on their names. I had a few pairs of coworkers that could have been them. I’m sure we’ll find out.”

“Fuck yeah we will. I can hear the rumors now.”

Kim made an unhappy noise. “Oh, Dei, don’t.”

***

YOU: “Kim. We’re home,” you whisper, patting his shoulder.

KIM KITSURAGI: “Mh.” He blinks at you, and pushes himself up. “Wasn’t sleeping.”

YOU: “It’s okay. Come on, let’s get upstairs. You must be starving.” You go around to his side of the Kineema and let him throw an arm around your shoulder to walk. The pair of you head towards the apartment complex.

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She hurries to catch up. “How far up are you?” she asks, gesturing at the building. It’s not terribly big, just a large house split into a few smaller apartments, but it does have a lot of stairs.

YOU: “Not very. Just the second floor. But, I mean. . .” you trail off, waving your hands vaguely at Kim.

KIM KITSURAGI: “I am right here, you know. And I’m fine.”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She matches pace and frowns. “You keep saying you’re fine, but you haven’t been able to put any weight on that leg for something like five hours. We’re just trying to help.”

PAIN THRESHOLD (Challenging: Success) – Kim does not submit to pain easily. If that’s true, you must keep him from pushing his injury any further.

ENDURANCE (Easy: Success) – He will recover. But he needs rest.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY (Trivial: Success) – And mad drugs.

ENCYCLOPEDIA (Medium: Success) – Studies have shown that proper pain management with the help of prescription painkillers, especially in the time immediately after an injury occurs, significantly increases one’s chances of making a full recovery!

EMPATHY (Easy: Success) – But Kim won’t appreciate being told to take mad drugs. He’s already on edge. He’ll probably just pop a drouamine.

SUGGESTION (Medium: Success) – Just get upstairs and get him food. He’ll be less ornery if he’s not hungry.

YOU: “Can we stop arguing? Let’s just get upstairs so you can both rest. I made soup!”

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: She lights up, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Oh, you did? I’ve missed y– soup.” She pauses midsentence, as if to reevaluate her opinion on soup, then carries on, slightly less enthusiastic. “It’s been a while since I’ve had. Soup. I love soup! That sounds great.”

EMPATHY (Impossible: Failure) – What the fuck?

KIM KITSURAGI: “I do like soup,” he says tiredly, settling back against you in silent permission to let you help him upstairs.

INTERFACING (Challenging: Success) – With the help of the strange woman on Kim’s other side, the three of you make your way, ever so slowly, up the stairs. After only a few steps, Kim stops putting his injured foot down altogether, so you and the woman basically carry him up the stairs.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT (Formidable: Success) – You’re doing most of the lifting, but it would be much more difficult without her. She’s a good crutch.

EMPATHY (Medium: Success) – This is taking a lot of trust on Kim’s part. He hates relying on other people, but he is in pain, and he loves you.

RHETORIC (Challenging: Success) – What about the woman, then? If he’s letting you help because he loves you, why’s he letting her help?

EMPATHY (Formidable: Success) – Because she’s his friend. She earned Kim’s trust in that basement, just like you earned it in Martinaise.

CONCEPTUALIZATION (Medium: Success) – Just because you don’t know how or why it happened, doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve it.

INTERFACING (Trivial: Success) – Stop arguing. We’re home!

YOU: You are indeed, finally, standing in front of your apartment door. With Kim. Safe at home. Finally.

+1 Morale

HAND-EYE COORDINATION (Medium: Failure) – You reach into your pocket with one hand to grab your keys – but you’re preoccupied and don’t have a very good grip on them, so as soon as you lift them out, they drop to the floor with a mocking little jingle.

YOU: “Fuck! Hold on – just a second – sorry,” you mumble, making sure Kim’s stable leaning against the strange woman before bending down to grab them. You unlock the door, but not without its own array of struggles – your hands don’t seem to want to cooperate with you anymore.

REACTION SPEED (Formidable: Failure) – You’re tired. It’s been how long since you’ve slept? Your reflexes are absolute garbage now, and your hands are shaking – you should consider yourself lucky the tremor is slight enough that your companions can’t tell. Yet.

SUGGESTION (Easy: Success) – Just go slow. Everyone’s safe now, you can take your time.

INTERFACING (Medium: Success) – The damned door finally swings open, and you step inside, holding it wide to let Kim and the woman through.