Chapter Text
“Well, agent. What did we learn tonight?” Reginald looked at his agent who was laying on the hospital bed, clearly sulking at the fact they had to get an X-Ray.
“Don’t do something really stupid in the middle of the night?” They shrugged, avoiding eye contact as they tried to stop the pout from forming. “In my defense, I was only trying to help.” Agent Phoenix looked at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge their not-as-functional leg. “I didn’t want to deal with the power outage anymore.”
“But that didn’t mean ‘break into the power plant’. Who even was your accomplice? You weren’t caught but the fact you twisted your ankle is quite concerning.” Reginald sighed, taking note of the bandaged foot. “So, who is it?”
“Just someone from the same country who is done with power outages just as I am.” They huffed, fiddling with nails as they avoided his sharp gaze. “I don’t trust the government to get that fixed in time. No offense but it’s personal experience talking.”
Reginald just handed them a cup of tea in response. “Well, I’m just glad you didn’t cause an incident. How did you manage to not get caught?”
“I guess I managed to find a good enough accomplice.” They grinned, internally screaming because she would definitely snitch on them due to their stupidity. “I doubt you’d be able to—”
“Getting in and out was the easy part, it’s the getting away that tripped them up.” A calm voice walked in, accent slightly appearing in the form of some syllables getting unnecessary stress and the f in find sounding a bit more like a p. She walked in, blonde hair in a wavy style and brown eyes framed in more rectangular glasses than the circular ones Phoenix knows.
“Who might you be?”
“Ask them.” She shrugged, looking at Phoenix with a pointed look. “Took a while to know where they ended up. Name’s Floriana Brantley.”
“Now where have I heard that name before?” Reginald held out a hand to meet her, noticing how she seemed to flinch under his touch. “It’s nice to meet you, Floriana… You seem really familiar.”
“It might be my resemblance to my father.” She gave him a smile, her gloved hands looking slightly thicker than the norm. “But my sister resembles him the most. I heard he used to be a former member of the agency before he retired.”
Phoenix kept looking at her, the pieces finally clicking as they tried to control their breath. They clenched the sheets under the palm. They lowered their head back enough to cover their eyes as the pair made small talk, each topic hammering a nail in the coffin of words they can’t say.
They don’t know how they did it but she managed to get their handler to leave them, following so many verifiable facts. Their words got caught in their throat, making them unable to tell him to not leave them alone with Floriana.
Her smile soon fell once the door closed, her avoiding their eyes. “I don’t see the point in lying and I’m here because you ditched me. Glad to know you’re injured, not a jerk. So, how’s the old man?”
“I was complaining about you.” Phoenix turned away, the floor looking more interesting to them than meeting her in the eye. “Is that why you hate the agency so much? It was personal?”
“In one way, it is.” She turned to them, only to take a few steps closer as she caught their hair to look at a scar in their head. “I’m assuming this is the scar of where your implant is? Hard to spot, honestly.”
“It is. But you… there’s no—you used your second given name in Zoraxis records? I should have known you’d be that cunning.” They followed her motion, letting her take the lead as they took in a breath.
“I have to be to survive that place. I have to admit, I have wanted to quit several times. Would you even want me, looking like a zombie? I’m already dead inside and a lot of messed up things are normalized to me. I’d never be normal. And neither will you. We can’t live outside of this life. And you know what kind of fate awaits turncoats.”
“You’re already a turncoat. So you were the one who—” Their words, cut off by her finger, soon continued, “I should have known. Is… you were the one who helped me from that sewer. And then I… said you were an angel. I… I definitely hit a sore spot that night, didn’t I?”
“I’m not a saint. So I don’t deserve to be called an angel. We… I have to admit you and I did well when we were fixing those wires in the power plant. But I don’t think it will happen ever again.”
“Yeah, it won’t.”