Work Text:
"Time for that drink." Vaughn's words echoed his invitation earlier that evening. Then, Mike had turned him down, claiming personal business and a headache; anything to get out of the office and its relentless atmosphere of dogma and brutality. Now, looking around his ruined living room -- couch still smouldering, shattered glass underfoot, a circle of burning ash on the floor -- Mike was inclined to think that a drink or eight might be a very good idea indeed.
Vaughn was already on the phone to the office, calling for cleaners, by the time Mike had gathered his wits to move. By the time he'd thrown together a bag of essentials, Vaughn was waiting impassively by the door and an anonymous white van was pulling up outside. He followed Vaughn out to his car, the cleaners passing him on the path. He left his home in the hands of professionals, stripping away every scrap of potential evidence and breaking down another piece of his old, normal, life.
Mike stared blindly out of the passenger window, the city rolling past unnoticed, until it occurred to him that he was no more in the habit of waking up to find colleagues lurking in his living room than expecting the leeches to make friendly house calls.
"So, just what were you doing in my house, anyway? Stalking co-workers in your job description? Or is it more of a hobby?"
"Figured the girl would come looking for you." Vaughn said, shrugging. "I went to break the bad news about her boyfriend, found the hospital bed empty. Her neck brace was lying on the floor and there was blood on it. The leech may as well have left a signpost. Less subtle than leeches normally are; he must have been in a hurry."
"Yeah, but why would she come after me? For that matter, why take her in the first place?" Mike had his own suspicions on the issue, but it was hard to think straight between the shock of the explosion and the post-adrenalin crash.
"Any number of reasons, but you can bet they were the leeches' reasons, not hers. Obviously they think you've got something to offer them too. You were the soft target in the hospital; I'm sure they thought she'd have an easier time with you." Vaughn pulled the car in and killed the engine; he looked past Mike and indicated the pub with a nod. "Come on. Like I said, time for that drink."
The hubbub of voices assaulted Mike's ears as they shouldered their way past drunks into the pub. Vaughn found them a table, his bulk and attitude helping plough through the crowd.
"What'll yours be?" Vaughn half-bellowed into Mike's ear. Mike shrugged in an 'I'll have what you're having' kind of way, and snagged a second bar stool with one long leg while Vaughn fought his way to the bar. He passed the time watching his fellow patrons, comparing the scene around him with the reflection in the mirrors along the walls. No sensible leech would idle here, not with so many chances for exposure, but it was almost second nature to check now anyway. Not a fact which pleased him, on reflection.
A beer bottle slid to a stop in front of him, and Vaughn slid onto the other stool, a similar bottle in hand and an untouched pair in reserve. Mike raised an eyebrow.
"No chance I'm making that run any more than I have to." Vaughn had to raise his voice to be heard. His knees pressed against Mike's under the tiny table.
The beers were half-finished before Mike ventured an observation. "You know what's the strangest thing about this whole deal?"
"Apart from the fact that there's a giant conspiracy being run by creatures everyone thinks are myths, and you're one of a few dozen people in this entire country who knows the truth?"
"Yeah. Apart from that."
"Go on."
"It's like they're - well, not brainwashed, but. When I saw Jack, after he'd been taken, he was already talking about 'us' and 'them', 'them' being ... humans. And he'd been a Code Five for three whole days at that point." Mike idly shredded the beer label with his fingernails. "And that girl."
Vaughn looked at Mike, his face a mask. "That leech."
"Girl, leech, whatever. She'd been taken, what, three hours ago? Less? And she turns up in my flat spouting the party line like she'd been a true believer for decades. None of them seem to have the slightest doubt about their loyalties, where they stand, where we stand, nothing. She was about to launch into some speech, about how we're the bad guys and the Code Fives are just fighting for survival, like she was reading it off a script." Mike eyed Vaughn, watching for a reaction. He knew Vaughn had heard the girl claim his 'friends' were evil just as clearly as he had.
Vaughn ignored the unspoken question. "Never struck me before. Then again, I haven't talked to many brand-new leeches lately. You seem to have the monopoly on that."
"You sure about that? Jack talked like he'd been a leech for a half a decade, not half a week. And since they don't age... well, unless you know their history, it might be harder than we think to guess how long ago they were taken."
"True enough. Huh. Angie told you the infection makes 'em suggestible?"
Mike nodded.
"Well, they've got to drain a new recruit, before they can be taken. It's part of the process. Maybe the effect of the bite works on leeches as well as us. Bite a wannabe, drain 'em, turn them into a leech -- then give 'em the spiel about their right to survive and how oppressed they are. Make them feel wanted, like part of the club, right from the start."
"That's some powerful hypnosis."
Vaughn shrugged. "Could be some other explanation. That's Pearse's job to work out." He drained his beer. "This place is way too crowded. Time to go."
They pushed their way out into the cold, and walked to the car. Vaughn half-turned.
"You got anywhere safe to stay?" he asked, hot breath misting over in the crisp night air.
Not really, Mike thought, and shrugged. "I'll make do."
"Come on. You can doss with me 'til you get a new place." Vaughn unlocked the car and got in.
Mike looked across the car roof at the city street, smiled to himself, and opened the car door to join his partner.