Chapter Text
Freelancer had been working hard on the Imperial curriculum, working themselves into the ground to impress President Moore. Every spare second had been spent studying or practicing. They had no real guarantee that the President would even entertain giving them another appointment, that he would keep his word and Freelancer would be allowed to see Vindemiator but it’s all they had to hang on to. They had heard whispers, how demons were treated. Saw how the Enforcer, Huxley was with them. It seemed only Freelancer had stood between Vindemiator and further brutality. If Freelancers' compliance and study at the Academy ensured Vindemiator’s safety then they would pass with honors. It had been the prerequisite couple of weeks that the President asked that Freelancer had worked on the curriculum. Aside from throwing everything at it that they had, they also listened when he mentioned “making a new life” and “connections”. They joined a couple of social groups for Human Borns so they couldn’t be accused of being anti-social. They have done nothing but be overwhelmingly positive about their experiences, and been sweetness and light.
And every night they fell into bed, exhausted, worried and scared.
As it was, they needn’t have been concerned. It had been exactly 2 weeks probation and the President was nothing if not watchful. Freelancer received a telephone call inviting them to an informal meeting. A progress report. After a moments hesitation, they chose a simple pair of blue jeans and a black Academy top. They walked across the campus and into the main building, heart thumping. When they eventually stood outside the doors to President Moore’s office, they realized they had no idea what was going to happen. Freelancer swallowed their nervousness and reminded themselves they were there for Vindemiator.
Just ask to see him. They thought. I’ve done well. I’ve jumped through every hoop that prick has set up for me. If he sets them on fire, I’ll jump through those too.
Freelancer steeled themselves, and knocked confidently.
Fake it til you make it Right?
“Come in.”
Right?
Breathing in, and releasing it before opening the door, trying to center themselves, Freelancer walked in. President Moore sat behind his desk. Their confidence, real or imagined, left them.
“Freelancer! I’m so pleased to see you. I’ve heard that you’ve made excellent progress. That’s wonderful to hear. Your tutors are very pleased, top marks in every class. How did you manage that? A slight hiccup with the water elemental class but that was soon overcome I understand.” President Moore looked through the papers in front of him, looking impressed. “And I see you’ve made the effort to make friends. That’s so important. We do need connections on this journey.” He leaned forwards linking his long fingers together on the desk and looked at Freelancer. A smile spread across his face in such a practiced manner that although it flowed easily it didn’t look sincere at all to watch it appear, despite the smile at the end radiating warmth. “So, that’s the academic side. How are you ?”
Freelancer sat straight, face a careful smile of their own. Nothing but positivity and enthusiasm for Academy life They reached for something positive.
“ I’m doing well, thank you. I’m enjoying Psychokinesis, and the library has texts I haven’t seen anywhere else.”
The President practically beamed. “Yes, I’m very proud of a few of the tomes in the library. They took a lot of tracking down. My team of stealths are unparalleled. I’m glad you noticed. You’re quite the promising student. Well, that’s it I suppose. I’ll catch up with you in another couple of weeks. I do like to keep tabs on my star pupils.” He looked down and started writing, meeting clearly over. Freelancer hesitated, unsure whether to say anything or not. Pushing their luck last time nearly meant they didn’t see Vindemiator for 2 semesters. On the other hand, President Moore had invited them. They stood, and walked to the door, still deliberating. Freelancer’s hand reached out to the door handle, shaking. President Moore put the pen down. Loudly. Freelancer jumped. When they looked up, his face was amused.
“Are you really not going to say anything? Are you going to leave without asking? Go on. Ask. You deserve a reward.” He sat back, folding his arms and giving a knowing look. Freelancer looked back at the door handle. They had learned not to give too much away. Nothing others could use as an advantage and nothing they could hurt you with. Freelancer phrased their question carefully, trying to sound nonchalant.
“How’s the Demon I came in with?”
“I believe he has a window this afternoon.”
They looked up quicker than they ment to. The President smiled. Freelancer cringed inwardly. They had given themselves away totally. President Moore leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk phone.
“Director. Your newest friend has a visitor. Please come and collect them. Oh, and Director? Not a word please about your particular area of interest. Thank you.”
He turned back to Freelancer. “Please, wait outside. Director Avior will be here in a moment. You’ve done well, enjoy your reward. We will speak when you’re done about further methods of advancement, and rewards.” Something about his tone set Freelancers skin to goosebumps.
A demon appeared silently behind Freelancer, making them jump. He looked them up and down appraisingly. Not exactly unpleasantly but as though considering. Considering what, they couldn’t say. Freelancer spoke first. “President Moore asked me to wait here to see Vindemiator.”
The Director nodded. “You’re the human I’ve been hearing so very much about. Follow me.” He walked away so suddenly Freelancer was taken by surprise, and they had to run a couple of paces to catch back up. Unsure what to expect, Freelancer took the opportunity to ask.
“How is he? Vindemiator?”
Without so much as looking around, the Director replied in a flat tone. “Oh, he’s just peachy. I don’t know what he thought would be happening once he got here, but I’m sure it’s every bit as scintillating as he hoped. Although, I would like to ask a question, if I may?” They reached a lift. The Director pressed the call button and looked at Freelancer out of the corner of his eye. Freelancer nodded consent to whatever question the Director had, who continued. “Who is Vindemiator to you? Actually, two questions. The second being why does the President care? It’s not normal for me to escort a visitor to the living quarters.” Inside the lift was a key card reader which the Director swiped before pressing the button for the Demon’s living space. Despite wanting to be guarded, Freelancer couldn’t help but like the straightforward nature of the Director. They decided to answer slightly more honestly than they were going to initially.
“He saved me first from a bad situation first. We came here together. I didn’t want to come at all but he convinced me. Said it was his best chance. I didn’t want my powers, he was the one who talked me into using them to improve things. To live, not just survive. Convinced me that I even wanted to live. I don’t know why the President cares. He thinks I’m talented or something.”
The Director nodded. The doors opened and he gestured them out. Freelancer paused.
“Can I ask a question? I acknowledge I may not want the answer.”
“But you’re going to ask anyway? How intriguing. Please do.” The Director’s tone of voice was indulgent, the way one would speak to a child. Slightly patronizing. They supposed given the situation it wasn’t unexpected, and plowed on, hoping not to offend.
“The President made a reference to a uh, “particular interest” you have. You weren’t supposed to mention it and I thought -” they grinned at him.
“You thought if it wasn’t supposed to be mentioned, mention it and see what you learn?”
Freelancer shrugged with a tight smile and Director Avior chuckled. “Oh, I see why Vindemiator likes you. Alright then. I’ll enlighten you.” And just like that, a sort of friendship was forged.
By the time they’d reached Vindemiator’s living quarters, Director Avior had explained the Meridian thinning, and the disaster that was approaching Elegy. Freelancer had gone from disbelief to outrage. The Director was gratified to have found another convert. “Are you alright, Freelancer?” He put a hand on their shoulder.
“Yeah, oddly I am. I mean, Vindemiator gets to go home. You and everyone else too. What have we ever done to deserve our powers? I mean, all we’ve done is hurt each other and try to subjugate Demons. Don’t get me wrong I’d rather not die! If there’s a way out I want it. But if that doesn’t happen, well, would it be the worst thing? Humans have been trying to destroy themselves one way or another for a very long time, ignoring anyone who tries to tell them differently. This is one more way.”
Director Avior gave Freelancer an odd look.
“You are an unusual human. I’ve enjoyed talking to you. You have an hour. I’ll be back when time’s up. I’ll need to escort you back.”
He turned, and walked down the corridor to the door he had gestured at, leaving Freelancer alone. They were about to knock, when the door opened. Vindemiator stood there, and suddenly Freelancer’s head went empty. This moment was what the last 2 weeks had been about. The sleepless nights, the hard work, the tears. Trying not to beg President Moore. Vindemiator looked tired, but otherwise well and the shock on his face was obvious. He hadn’t been expecting them.
“Freelancer!” Vindemiator just about managed to gasp out. Then his arms were around them and he had pulled them into an embrace so tight they stumbled as they nearly fell over, taking Vindemiator with them. They put their arms around his waist and had time to wonder if he’d always been so thin as he pulled them into his room.
“Oh my god, Freelancer! How?” The surprise on his face made Freelancer laugh, the first time in weeks, and he held their face, examining them closely.
“I behaved.” they said simply. “I did everything President Moore asked of me, and met his expectations. He told me I was promising. Seeing you was my reward. What have you been doing? What’s been going on?”
“Nothing. This is it really, for me. I can move around down here, I’m forbidden from using magic in any meaningful way. It’s not really the haven we were promised but it’s safer than out there. It’s so good to see you.”
The hour went faster than either of them would have liked. They were sat on the floor of Vindemiator’s little bedroom next to each other with their backs pressed against the bed. It was sparsely decorated, but sufficient. One of many rooms on that floor. Freelancer found out Vindemiator had been lucky to be put into Avior’s care. A fellow Demon, he made sure he scheduled regular feedings and actually cared about his charges. Some were not so fortunate. They ended up pressed close together, Vindemiator’s hand on top of Freelancers, softly stroking their fingers. If they’d been asked it would have only been an accident of movement that had put them there. Nothing more. Soon enough, there was a polite tap at the door, and Vindemiator huffed. They both stood just as the Director opened the door.
“Oh thank god. I had no idea what I’d be walking into, the way at least one of you’d been talking.”
Freelancer flushed and Vindemiator smirked. The Director definitely didn’t hide a small smile as he stood back to allow Freelancer out of the room. “Come on Freelancer. One minute extra and the President will have my head. Then who will entertain my charges?”
Freelancer’s heart hurt at the need to leave Vindemiator behind, and resolved to do whatever was needed to get him out of here. “I’ll try to get back as soon as I can. Whatever Lasko wants me to do.” they promised him.
Director Avior walked Freelancer back out of the Demon living quarters, and back along to the lift. As he inserted the key card he stopped and faced them. He looked solemn. “This will be a double edged sword, Freelancer. President Moore knows your fondness for Vindemiator and I only have so much sway here, despite my glamorous title. Our friend will be well treated for as long as you are useful to President Moore. Defy him and he has leverage. Please, for Vindemiators sake, continue to be useful.”
“I trust you found Vindemiator well?” President Moore seemed to be walking past the lift by chance as the lift doors opened, however Freelancer doubted anything the man did was by chance. It all seemed carefully orchestrated. They replied politely and reservedly. Still determined to give nothing away.
“Yes, thank you President Moore.” They stepped out of the lift, and fell into step next to the President. The Director silently let themselves back down in the lift without another word.
“Good. Now, I have great hopes for you Freelancer. Your powers are just wonderful. I would like very much to discuss them with you in greater depth. Does tomorrow afternoon suit?”
Remembering what Director Avior had said, Freelancer didn’t have a choice. Not if they wanted to keep Vindemiator safe. A ball of anxiety settled deep in their stomach, and took root. It didn’t feel like it was going to move for a very long time.
“Yes, President Moore”.
That warm, insincere smile appeared on President Moore’s face again. “Oh, there’s a fundraiser I need to attend next week. It would look very good to have the Academy's newest star student with me. I’ll have an outfit sent to your room.”
Director Avior’s words suddenly hit Freelancer hard. Continue to be useful.
“Yes, President Moore.”
The President’s eyes shone.