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The Compound
Three Years and Ten Months after Walking out of the Latvian Forest
Wednesday July 5, 2023
3:15 PM
"I think you're being silly."
"Well that’s because you’re not a Mike Walters iteration," Cal told him patiently.
Viridian’s lips twitched and Cal got the distinct impression that he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. This was an old disagreement between them so it was no surprise that Viridian was a little impatient with it.
They were in their office, Viridian seated in his office chair, long legs stretched out before him, watching as Cal paced the length of the room while they talked things through.
"I know this is important to you—and you can attest to the fact that it will improve their quality of life," Viridian pointed out.
Cal nodded as he mulled it over. "The thing is—I’m pretty sure they’re going to object."
Viridian frowned. "You think they don’t want their hands repaired?"
Cal tilted his head from side to side as he reached the far wall then turned and began pacing back toward Viridian.
"It’s just complicated for them for all the same reasons it was complicated for me," Cal explained. "They know just as well as I do that subjects will notice. My team noticed my hand the second I walked into our first meeting after Ultra fixed it."
Viridian sighed. "Yes, that is inevitable. But you and your team are well versed at coming up with protocols—"
Cal opened his mouth to object, a rueful smile cutting across his face but Viridian held his hands before him to stop Cal before he spoke.
"I understand this is delicate. But have some faith in your team and the work you’ve done to train them," Viridian insisted, reaching out to grab Cal’s hand—the one that had been healed only a little over a month ago—as he passed by his chair.
Cal stopped and savored the way Viridian’s long fingers squeezed his, the look of confidence and pride on his face. Viridian's faith in him—in his team—sent a gentle swell of tenderness through his chest, slowly spreading outward, lowering his shoulders, loosening his jaw. It was a precious thing.
"It’s just—they know it’ll make it more difficult to gain their subject’s trust. I’m going to have to convince them," Cal said, squeezing Viridian’s hand in return. He didn’t bother to add that his team’s future freedoms depended on their ability to continue to deliver results. Small fluctuations were normal and expected but any major dips in their performance wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Viridian pursed his lips then asked, "Alright, how do you convince them?"
Cal mulled it over, then said, "Ollie and Mal are on short term assignments at the moment. They’ll be up soon."
Viridian nodded, still holding Cal’s hand and Cal found he didn’t want to break contact. He was feeling oddly vulnerable and particularly in need of Viridian’s support today.
"We could—I could ask Emerald if we could have a Mikey or two for Mal and Ollie to use to run their own study," Cal began, slowly building up steam as the idea began to take shape in his mind.
"Go on," Viridian encouraged.
"We’ll repair Mal and Ollie’s hands first and then they can workshop ideas together. Then they can try things out and issue resets on the subjects themselves as they trial different approaches—something they’ll be able to issue themselves once they’re contractual workers. One of them could monitor things from a conference room while the other engages with the subject. They could switch off. All with the goal of formulating new protocols to account for this new variable."
Viridian smiled up at him. "There it is," he murmured softly.
Cal blushed, gaze softening somewhere in the middle distance. It was largely how he and G had operated in the early days when it was just the two of them, trying to figure out the support role.
"It would be a good show of trust. Allowing Ollie and Mal the opportunity to take on this project together would signal to your team that this change in status is more than just lip service," Viridian continued, tugging lightly on Cal’s hand in a demand for his focus.
Cal blinked and turned his attention back to him. He sighed and nodded. "If nothing else it’s a good way to convince them to let Ultra do the procedure."
When Viridian gave Cal’s hand another tug, Cal raised his brows a little in inquiry, confused.
"Come here," Viridian murmured, a soft smile on his lips.
Cal glanced at their open office door.
"No one will see," Viridian murmured, his smile stretching a little wider.
Cal let out a huff of laughter and bent to press his lips to Viridian’s. Viridian released Cal’s hand to cradle his cheek for a moment before it dropped and Viridian sat back in his chair, eyeing Cal fondly.
Cal straightened and sighed. "I love you," he murmured.
"And I you," Viridian replied softly.
Cal rolled his shoulders, not used to wearing the holster Artie had gifted him the previous night.
"I can’t deny it, he did well. It’s very fetching," Viridian observed, arching a brow.
"What has gotten into you?" Cal chuckled, perching on the edge of his desk. It’s not that they avoided touching one another completely while at work. But it had always felt like they were sneaking small touches before and even then it was usually only when one of them was especially upset or stressed about something. This felt oddly relaxed, ordinary even.
Viridian gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Things change," he said simply.
Heat crept up Cal’s cheeks as a rush of images from the previous night overtook him.
He and Viridian had certainly not kept their hands to themselves as they’d made their way back to their apartment after dinner. Not even once they were winding their way along the residential paths of the compound.
At the time he’d felt so desperate for Viridian, to feel him in his arms and know—at least in that moment—Viridian was safe. It had felt almost necessary to take him among the wildflowers on the free side of the half wall. Under the moonlight, within sight of the boundaries that had defined Cal’s existence for nearly four years, he’d felt a reassuring certainty.
Viridian had looked at him with such soft reverence, cradling his face like an ancient glass artifact, precious and fragile.
He’d felt fragile. Fragile and reckless. But Viridian had given him a soft place to land and wrapped him up in cotton. Even now he felt a warm glow in this chest, embers of a night that burned bright in his memories.
Viridian was smiling at him now, eyes tender and knowing.
There was a soft twin set of dings, one each from their respective phones, and their gazes broke as they each turned to look at their screens.
Cal exhaled sharply as he read the notification.
Emergency Protocol Review for Support Team Members
in 10 minutes
A small icy rivulet began to cut through the warmth in Cal’s chest, frozen streams branching off and fanning out, spreading rapidly.
"Ultra will be in your meeting with Arctos," Viridian said, pulling Cal’s attention back to him and halting the spread of the frost across his lungs.
Brows knitting together in surprise, Cal merely stared at Viridian, the muscles in his face hardening.
Viridian sighed and pursed his lips. "Don’t look at me like that, I’m not trying to overstep."
"No?" Cal asked crisply, arms crossed tightly across his chest.
Viridian shot him a pointed look. "No. I reached out to him for your benefit, not mine."
Viridian got to his feet and crossed the short distance to Cal where he still perched on the edge of his desk. He brought a hand up to cup Cal’s cheek and Cal had to steel himself not to melt against the touch.
"The meeting is to discuss protocols for my team, V. I don’t appreciate—"
"Yes, I’m aware," Viridian interrupted lightly. "I would like to point out that you don’t have to do everything on your own, darling. And you’re dreadful at asking for help sometimes."
Cal fought a grimace as a prickling heat of shame slipped up the back of his neck and spread across his scalp.
I heard you showed up at Cobalt's door with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.
"Is this—is it because of last night?" Cal asked softly, eyes dipping down to stare unseeingly at their feet. He never should’ve admitted that he felt a certain amount of regret about not trying to seduce Artie from the start. He should’ve realized Viridian wouldn’t understand. He’d felt so safe and comfortable last night. He hadn’t meant to get Viridian’s hackles up about Arctos again.
Viridian exhaled sharply. "Indirectly, yes."
"I said I wasn’t asking for permission," Cal reminded quietly, his face melting with embarrassment now. "You don’t have to worry—"
A surprised laugh erupted from Viridian. "That isn’t what I meant about it being related to what you said last night."
Confusion furrowing his brow, Cal pushed off the edge of the desk to stand. "I don’t under—"
"He upset you," Viridian said firmly. "I don’t know what he did or said yesterday during your weapons training—"
"V, I don’t—we can talk about it later but—"
"Yes, I hope we will, but that isn’t my point," Viridian broke in with a patient smile and rested his hands on Cal’s upper arms. "I cannot be in the meeting with you today because I have the one with MW and an OvEdgar at the same time."
Already irritated at Viridian calling in Ultra to babysit him, Cal grimaced at the mention of the runaway. "I don’t need a handler," he muttered.
"Don’t be like that, you know that’s not what this is. Arctos is less likely to say something cruel if there are other witnesses," Viridian insisted.
Cal snorted. "You clearly do not know Arctos."
"I didn’t say he wouldn’t be rude. But I very much doubt he would have dared to say whatever it was that upset you yesterday if I had been present," Viridian replied crisply.
Well. Cal had to admit Viridian likely had a point there. Granted neither Cal nor Artie would’ve been speaking as freely as they had been if they’d been in front of Viridian.
Cal cleared his throat and straightened up a little. "I know you technically have the authority to do so—"
Viridian sighed exasperatedly, "Cal, I wasn’t—"
"But I don’t like you sending Ultra to my meetings without consulting me," Cal replied finally.
Viridian pressed his lips together in a thin line. He didn’t look angry. He looked irritated with himself. "In future I will discuss it with you before reaching out to Ultra, but it will be a discussion."
Eyeing Viridian with a petulant glare, Cal gave a testy little sniff. He hated the way something snarling and defensive seemed to rise up within him when Viridian tried to help like this. He knew Viridian meant well. It wasn’t often that Viridian encroached on Cal’s projects. But Cal was sensitive to the fact that Viridian could. Even now.
But then he took a deep chest expanding inhale and slowly let it out.
"Thank you," Cal said with more warmth than before, his muscles gradually beginning to relax.
A little smirk twitched at Viridian’s lips. "Ironically, I needn’t have bothered."
Cal blinked in surprise. "What?"
"Well, Ultra helped develop the functionality for the emergency protocols," Viridian said reasonably, as if he were reminding Cal of something he already knew.
"He—wait what?" Cal spluttered, forehead scrunching in bafflement.
Viridian smiled patiently as he explained, "The original chip in your hand, the first one that triggered an automatic transport anytime you stepped off compound property. Ultra developed the software for it as a favor to me."
Cal just continued to stare at Viridian in confusion.
"It was a sticking point in my negotiations with Management," Viridian continued dryly, nostrils flaring in annoyance, no doubt recalling the protracted back and forth over Cal's original contract which elevated him from a subject to a contractual work. "They’d refused to allow you free movement around the compound until we had a safeguard in place that prevented you from leaving. But at the time, our engineering department was swamped and as a result development on a solution was slow. It had been some years but Ultra had some experience designing software for medical devices before fully switching over to patient care. Being the good friend he is and knowing that I was impatient for your transition to contractual worker, he offered to develop it in his spare time."
Cal’s throat ached a little, the muscles suddenly tight. He was sure that being the one to provide that initial solution had a positive impact on Ultra’s career but—but he knew Ultra and unlike so many of his colleagues—unlike so many Ty Betteridge iterations—he seemed far less interested in the cut throat hustle. He’d largely navigated away from the high risk, high reward research roles and almost always clocked out promptly at five.
And yet he’d dedicated hours of his free time to help his dear friend. Ultra had barely known Cal back then. It had been for Viridian.
Moving closer, his brows lifted in concern, Viridian asked softly, "Are you alright? Have I said something to upset you?"
Cal swallowed a few times, trying to get his throat to loosen up. He shook his head then ducked it.
"I—Ultra really cares about you," he croaked hoarsely, thinking about how that care had begun to extend to Cal himself.
He couldn’t explain why he felt so overwhelmed at this evidence that genuine friendships could blossom from such poisoned ground. He just knew he wanted to savor this, to carry it with him. But heat prickled at his neck. "It’s just—I’m glad you have that with him," he stammered self consciously.
Viridian brushed lightly at the hair at Cal’s forehead, his eyes soft and searching. "As am I," Viridian murmured.
Cal cleared his throat again, heat building behind his cheeks.
"So, Artie had already invited him to the meeting?" he asked pointedly.
"Yes," Viridian replied softly, face still etched with tender fondness. "I imagine he’ll be there for any technical questions you may have. But he’s also assured me that he’ll intervene should Arctos misbehave."
Cal nodded, realizing with a start that the self consciousness he was feeling was embarrassment of all things. Baffled at this he leaned in to give Viridian a quick kiss.
"I better hurry," Cal said, avoiding meeting Viridian’s gaze.
"Yes, we both should be off or we’ll be late," Viridian agreed, turning to walk out with his hand at Cal’s lower back. "I’ll see you back at the apartment."
As they exited their office, Viridian turned, his fingers sliding across Cal’s back, the touch only finally leaving him as Viridian’s steps carried him down the hall in the opposite direction from where Cal needed to begin heading. But he stood there and watched Viridian go until he turned down another hallway and disappeared from sight.
When Cal entered the conference room he was met with another surprise. Standing over by the sideboard, pouring himself some water, was Mustardseed.
"Edgar?" Cal said, crossing to him.
Mustardseed smiled back over his shoulder as he set the water pitcher down. "Hey there stranger."
Cal smiled as Mustardseed turned and gave him a quick hug. They had missed their usually weekly lunch because Cal had been giving his team the tour of his apartment.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Cal asked, pleased to see him despite his confusion.
"I asked him to join us."
Cal startled, jerking back from Mustardseed to find Artie standing directly behind him wearing a crooked tight lipped smirk and a new pair of candy red sunglasses propped atop his head.
Like nothing had happened.
Cal fought to keep his expression neutral as he eyed the new sunglasses with an inexplicable distaste. They were no different from the previous pair as far as Cal could tell.
"They look good," Cal forced himself to say, quirking one corner of his lips up into an amused half smile to better arm himself.
"I upgraded the lenses on these for shatterproof ones," Arctos teased with a playful little upward flick of his brows.
Great. They were making little in jokes. Joyfully, savagely, dancing around the wounds that they’d inflicted on one another less than 24 hours ago. The reverberations of their dance steps sending out ripples of pain—mere echoes of the initial ragged tearing.
This was good. Cal could work with this. He tried to relax his shoulders down his back. This movement brought Artie’s eyes flicking over Cal’s leather shoulder holster.
"Looks good on you," Artie told him, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Was—was the asshole flirting with him? In a fucking meeting?
A vicious thrill curled under Cal’s sternum and a predatory grin slowly spread across his face. The smirk on Artie’s face flickered for just a heartbeat. "
“Thanks. You were right," Cal replied. "Viridian loves it on me. I gave him a little fashion show last night."
Mustardseed’s hand came to rest on Cal’s upper back. A caution. Or maybe just a reminder that Cal and Artie weren’t alone. Not that they were ever alone in this building. Not with constant surveillance.
But attempting to irritate Artie was not something he cared to hide, not when he knew Artie wanted everyone to assume they hated one another.
"Congratulations," Mustardseed offered warmly before Artie had recovered. "How does it feel? This is your first day carrying a service weapon, right?"
Cal tilted his head and shrugged, gaze still locked with Artie’s. He shifted a little so that the side of his body nearly touched the side of Mustardseed’s and was satisfied as the cocky confidence Artie had been projecting dimmed a little. "It’s fine. I still hate it but at least I look good carrying it."
"Well I’ve heard you’ve become a decent shot," Mustardseed countered playfully.
A genuine laugh erupted from Cal’s throat and he finally turned his attention from Artie to Mustardseed. "That is a gross exaggeration."
"A few more people and we’ll have a party on our hands," Ultra drawled from his seat at the table. He was leaning back in his chair, one ankle propped up on the opposite knee, appearing completely at ease.
Feeling an odd mix of disappointment and gratitude, Cal gently disengaged from Mustardseed and crossed to the round conference table and took his seat beside Ultra.
"Is he already getting under your skin?" Ultra murmured under his breath, eyeing Artie and Mustardseed.
Cal snorted softly. "He tried."
Ultra gave a small subtle shake of his head, lips twitching. "Turned the tables on him, did you?"
Cal just smothered a pleased smirk and pretended to look over his notes for the meeting.
Once everyone was seated, Cal turned to Mustardseed. "I know why Ultra’s here but I’m surprised to see you involved."
"Initially I assisted with the creation of the randomized safe room location selection and construction technology," Mustardseed explained.
"Meaning?" Cal interrupted, brows knitted together.
Mustardseed flashed him a self-satisfied little grin. "The safe rooms do not exist until they are needed. When the protocol is initiated a location is selected through an autonomous process that rapidly—to our subjective experience, near instantaneously—gathers intelligence through the means of continuous corrections and then builds a fully functioning safe room with all the necessary amenities to support at least six adults for as long as is needed."
It took a moment for Cal to process what Mustardseed was saying. "So—no one has the coordinates for the safe room."
Artie shook his head. "No. We can obtain them of course but it requires being in the safe room itself in order to do so."
Cal narrowed his eyes on Artie. "I assume you have the ability to transport to the safe room?" he guessed, nodding at Artie’s hand and the chip it contained.
"Correct," Artie replied.
Cal looked between Mustardseed and Ultra. "Is it possible to make it so I can transport there as well?"
After a wordless exchange between a thoughtful Mustardseed and an intrigued looking Ultra, Mustardseed nodded. "I believe there’s a way—Ultra would need to remove your existing chip and install a new one but I think it’s doable. The way it works now is once the safe room exists the coordinates are remotely stored and requires a unique hardware ID that is specific to the chip installed in Artie's hand—among other safeguards."
It was unnerving to realize that Ultra and Mustardseed had seemingly worked together so closely without Cal ever having been aware. Cal and Mustardseed might not be lovers but they were good friends and saw one another regularly. He felt a little uneasy that he was only finding out about it all now.
"Thank you," Cal mumbled, shifting in his seat, Ultra’s hand still resting firmly on his thigh beneath the table where no one could see.
"If it gets you in the safe room, I have no complaints," Artie muttered irritably and Mustardseed chuckled.
"My expertise was also required to handle situations in which the emergency protocols fail," Mustardseed continued, handing a document to each of them.
Cal frowned and glanced down at what he’d been handed. At the top in a large bold font he read, "Failed Extractions and Disconnected Timeline Recall Informed Corrections."
"Between Ultra and I, we were able to automate a process by which if a principal asset fails to arrive safely—"
"By which Edgar means, alive," Ultra interjected lightly.
"—a correction will be issued to extract them earlier based on information we are able to gather and process through disconnected timeline recall," Mustardseed continued without break, appearing quite used to dealing with Ultra’s playful interruptions.
Cal looked up from the document and glanced around the table. "You aren’t—So if they die you aren’t—you’re not replacing them with an iteration or—"
Ultra huffed lightly, suggesting that this was a topic that had been discussed at length between the three of them. "No, Arctos made it clear that would not be sufficient."
"Besides, given the near infinite parameters that can be used when initiating a continuous correction, there is potential for differences among iterations—which, given how heavily your direct reports’ work relies on personal connections with specific Mike Walters iteration, is not ideal," Mustardseed admitted. "Never mind that there are still questions about the ways in which connectivity might function when pulling individuals from these temporary iterations of the timeline. At the moment we’re largely using this technology for intelligence gathering while we study other applications."
It was odd entering a meeting like this and realizing he did not have to argue about the fact that it was necessary to issue a correction to prevent a death instead of just iterating a fallen member of his team. That argument had already taken place. Artie had already established a non-negotiable requirement that he knew Cal would insist on.
A soft, "Oh," was all he could manage in reply. He ducked his head and stared at the page before him, pretending to read it over. A disorienting lightheadedness left him feeling unsteady and in need of grounding. Under the table he slid his foot sideways until he was able to lightly knock his shoe against Ultra’s. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking of Ultra but he felt Ultra’s hand come to rest on his thigh and give it a small reassuring squeeze.
Artie cleared his throat and Cal looked at him from under his lashes, head still ducked.
All business now, Artie handed out some documents of his own. "We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s take Cal through the emergency protocols step by step. I know he’d like to be able to provide his own input and he can’t do that until he understands what’s already in place."
"Of course," Mustardseed agreed. "In the event of an emergency of any kind—"
Just then the room was plunged into darkness.
Ultra’s hand suddenly gripped Cal’s thigh, as if afraid Cal might bolt from the table.
For one wild moment Cal thought that Artie had decided to give Cal a demonstration by simulating an emergency. But the moment the thought occurred, realization and panic flooded in and cleared it away.
"Fuck, Artie—" Cal choked out.
"They’re already in the safe room," Artie assured him.
Just then dim red emergency lighting cast them all in a menacing ruddy glow.
Artie was already on his feet, gun out, scanning the room.
Mustardseed was missing.
"Edgar—" Cal breathed, getting to his feet despite Ultra’s attempt to keep him seated. "Artie, they took Edgar—"
Artie shook his head, still scanning the room, not bothering to turn back to Cal. "He’s safe. He has his own emergency protocol now."
Incredulous, Cal made a face. "You’re telling me Edgar allows someone else to decide when he gets shoved into a safe room?"
Just then the sound of distant gunfire erupted from what sounded like several floors up. A snapping electrical charge seemed to flood Cal’s veins and his fingertips tingled with the promise of numbness. Heart pounding Cal looked up while Artie continued to keep his attention on their immediate surroundings.
"He understood if he didn’t agree, other people might make stupid reckless choices to try to keep him safe," Artie snapped, moving swiftly around the table toward Cal, eyes trained on the door. "Stand up and move to the far corner of the room, please."
Ultra immediately stood and began to do as ordered but Cal didn’t budge. He pulled out his phone to message Viridian only to find there was no service. The electrical current crackling along his nerves seemed to surge as he realized he had no way to communicate with Viridian.
"No," he breathed weakly.
"Cal—" Ultra called to him. "Come stand with me so that—"
"I—I can’t," Cal panted, already trying to move past Artie toward the door. "I need—"
"Stay the fuck where you are," Artie growled at him. He reached out to grab Cal’s arm but Cal jerked back, Artie’s fingers glancing off him as he jumped back out of reach. "Cal, do not run. Listen to me. I can bring you to Viridian—"
"Are you mad?" Ultra shouted at Artie, his composure suddenly breaking. Gunfire broke out above them once more, causing Cal and Ultra to jump. Ultra’s glasses appeared opaque as they reflected the ruddy glow of the emergency lighting. "Cal, go home."
Cal blinked at him for a moment before he understood what Ultra was saying. He could transport himself back to his apartment—to safety. Cal shook his head as he continued to back up toward the door.
"I can’t transport you against your will but I can detain you in an emergency," Artie snarled, hurrying after him.
"Artie, I can’t stay here," Cal insisted weakly, the incessant desperate demand to run in the direction he’d last seen Viridian headed growing stronger.
"Cal, go home, please," Ultra shouted. "Viridian wouldn’t want you to—"
Expression hardening, Artie swung around and pointed his gun directly at Ultra. "Shut up. I’m handling this. If he tries to run home now without cover during an active breach—"
With Artie’s attention on Ultra, Cal took his chance and bolted out the door.
"Cal!" Artie roared behind him, close on Cal’s tail. "For fuck’s sake—he’s in conference room 107!"
"What, do you memorize Viridian’s calendar too?" Cal shot back over his shoulder as he darted down the hall. It only occurred to him then that of course Artie memorized Viridian’s calendar. For exactly this reason. Artie had to know that Cal would never allow himself to be whisked away to safety without knowing Viridian was out of harm's way.
It was as he was having that realization that a wall of muscle crashed into Cal, bringing him to the ground, firm hands taking hold of him and pinning him. The weight of Artie’s body pressed him down against the cold hard floor. Breath hot against the back of Cal’s neck Artie hissed. "I will take you to Viridian and then you will allow me to transport you both to the safe room one at a time. Do you agree?"
Cal wriggled, desperately trying to break free, his panic spiking with every second’s delay. "Yes, fine, just—"
"You will stay low while I provide cover and you will obey me until you are in the safe room with Viridian. Do you understand?" Artie continued without pause.
"Fine!" Cal shot back and to his surprise Artie immediately got to his feet and pulled Cal up with him.
Scowling, he gave Cal a little shove. "Get low and keep moving," he barked.
Cal hunched low and hurried down the hall, Artie’s footfalls close behind. The empty red tinted hallways were unnervingly still and silent, their swift footfalls echoing wildly around them. It felt like they were the only two left in the building though surely everyone else was just quietly huddled in various conference rooms with the doors locked.
"Stop before you reach the end of the hallway so I can make sure it’s clear," Artie told him, voice low now.
Fighting his instinct to ignore this precaution in order to get to Viridian more quickly, Cal paused at the end of the hallway and crouched down to allow Artie to peer around the corner and scan both directions.
"Okay, we’re headed left," Artie murmured. "Stay low. There’s doors to the stairwells at either end of the hallway, never mind that there’s always the possibility of a sudden transport. If I say 'down' you drop to the floor immediately."
Cal nodded stiffly.
"Go," Artie commanded.
Cal obeyed and scurried down the hall, hunching low, Artie his constant shadow. When they reached the conference room Cal tried the handle, forgetting that they had likely locked it from the inside. Frantically he pounded on the door while Artie stood guard.
"Viridian!" he shouted through the door, fist slamming against it. "Are you all safe in there?"
"Cal?" a familiar voice called out in surprise from the other side, and Cal sagged in relief.
"Are you—safe?" Cal demanded, voice breaking, his vision going a little blurry as his eyes began to fill with tears.
"We are—"
"Any idea what’s goin’ on out there? We thought we heard gunfire—" someone interrupted in a drawl.
"We’re safe here, but Cal, this is Juniper."
Cal blinked at the door as something heavy and sour plummeted in his stomach. "Wha—"
"Viridian had a last minute meeting with Orange and asked me to cover for him," Juniper explained, voice muffled through the door. He sounded apologetic.
Gunfire erupted above them once more, as if whoever it was had moved down a couple floors. His stomach twisted, sending the bitterness rushing up the back of his throat.
"No," Cal breathed, eyes and nose stinging with the burn of acid. For a moment he thought he was being transported with how he suddenly felt like he’d missed a step but the world remained solidly stubbornly around him. Overwhelmed by a dizzying disorientation, he must have wobbled because Artie briefly gripped his arm to steady him before releasing him once more.
"Do you know where his meeting with Orange is?" Artie demanded at a full bellow, eyes trained on Cal.
"I’m sorry, I don’t," Juniper apologized, sounding genuinely regretful.
The words slammed into Cal’s chest and he stumbled back from the door, Artie moving with him. The deafening silence that followed was ripped apart by another volley of gunfire from above them and Cal instinctively ducked despite the fact that the hallways remained clear. His fingers all tingled like they’d fallen asleep though Cal had no idea how that could be possible given the way he’d be pounding them against the solid wood door of the conference room just moments ago.
"Cal, we need to get somewhere safe and regroup," Artie began, hand already reaching out to him, eyes wide and alert, noting every backwards step Cal took.
When Artie’s fingertips glanced across Cal’s upper arm, Cal jerked back in a wild panic. All he could see for a moment was a closed door blocked by Artie.
It must’ve show on his face because Artie’s eyes widened further as he shouted, "Cal, don’t run—"
But he didn’t have to run. Reacting on impulse, he pressed the back of his hand—one long press followed by two quick presses. The last thing he saw was panic and understanding erupt on Artie’s face.
He landed with a crash in his apartment in the space between the wall and his couch. The sudden afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows was far too bright after the dim emergency lighting in the compound and he blinked unseeingly.
Trembling, Cal got unsteadily to his feet, hand bracing against the wall. He swore as he checked his phone in the vain hope that they'd have service again. He needed to figure out where Viridian was. When Cal had been made an employee, Viridian and Ultra had added a few more transport command patterns to the chip in his hand but the only one he ever used with any regularity was the one to transport to his apartment.
Mashing his hands against his face Cal frantically tried to recall the other patterns.
"Fuck," he whispered, tears of fear and frustration leaking from the corners of his scrunched up eyes.
He was just about to try out a pattern he was only half confident in when there was a sudden pounding on his door along with a wild howl of "Cal!"
"Fuck," Cal muttered, stumbling a few steps back from the door.
Somehow Artie must’ve heard him before he bellowed, "Cal for FUCK’s sake, let me in god dammit, I can help you find him!" He sounded hysterical. "I promise—"
"I can’t—Fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t," Cal called back, real regret closing his throat and causing his voice to break.
Cal hadn’t even finished answering when the door shuddered like a sledgehammer had been taken to it. Cal thought he heard wood cracking at the second impact. Artie was actually going to break down the door.
Without another thought Cal pressed on his hand again—two long presses, three short ones, one final long press—and once again he was absorbed into a terrifying nothingness of non-existence.
By some miracle he landed on his feet this time, which was a good thing because he’d been plunged back into the reddish darkness of the compound’s emergency lighting. Blinking, willing his eyes to adjust to the sudden change, Cal felt around, trying to determine if he was where he’d wanted to be. His hand met cool metal shelving and he breathed a sigh of relief. Still not able to see much, eyes still not adjusted, he felt his way along the shelving toward the back of the large supply closet.
When he arrived at the shelf along the back wall Cal got down on his hands and knees to find the RFID reader affixed to the underside of the bottommost shelf. Upon locating it he hurried to pull the unmarked badge from his wallet and slap it against the reader then scrambled to his feet.
A moment later, with an eerie silence, the shelving unit and part of the wall slowly swung forward. Cal rushed into the narrow, dimly lit hallway, scanned his badge on the RFID reader on the wall inside to trigger the entrance to close behind him, then bolted down the hall.
Having only traversed the passageway once, he’d forgotten how long it was, how other narrow hallways joined it. He was dimly aware that he should be worried about meeting someone else along the way but all his fear circled around Viridian.
His breaths were coming out in sharp tearing gasps by the time he flung himself into the elevator and punched the button to descend.
He slumped back against the wall and slid down to a crouch as he tried to catch his breath, his lungs searing, chest heaving.
Artie had found him fast. He had to have guessed where Cal had disappeared to and transported to his own apartment, then ran over to Cal’s. Even so, he’d found Cal faster than he would have thought possible. How much did Artie work out? He couldn’t run that much faster than Cal, could he?
The elevator doors shuddered open and Cal waited for a moment to listen for movement inside. When he was met only with silence he hefted himself to his feet then stumbled into the Trunk. The large monitors along the walls were all dark, as were the various desktop computers. He rushed over to one and turned it on, sagging with relief when he was not asked for a password.
He began scanning the list of various applications to determine what might be useful. Access management portal—that would have recent badge scans. But his eyes lighted upon a familiar surveillance application. He opened that only to be met with immediate disappointment. Given the fact that the intruders had taken out cell service and the compound’s wi-fi, he shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that they managed to cut the live surveillance feed.
But there was still surveillance that had been captured prior to the breach.
He pulled up footage from the hallway outside his and Viridian’s office from moments before they’d left for their respective meetings. He was able to follow Viridian’s progress, bringing up surveillance from cameras further down the hallway as he went. Cal’s heart stuttered when Viridian stepped on a lift. He switched to the footage from inside the elevator and watched as Viridian first pressed the button for the second floor and then, seeming to change his mind, pressed the button for the eighth floor.
To Cal’s surprise when the elevator arrived on the second floor, Viridian stepped off. Cal began to bring up the footage of the second floor main hallway but his hands froze on the keyboard.
Viridian was still inside the elevator, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed.
He was also paused mid stride stepping off the elevator.
And then something clicked into place.
The doors to the Trunk's elevator opened then, startling Cal. He’d been so absorbed in tracking Viridian’s movements he hadn’t even heard the elevator glide back up to the main floor or come back down. He jerked back from the desk he’d been standing at and wheeled around to find Artie rushing out even before the doors were all the way open.
Artie's hair was plastered to his forehead, his band t-shirt soaked with sweat. He’d ditched his black blazer and sunglasses at some point. He glanced around frantically as he moved further into the Trunk.
"Cal, we are not supposed to be here," he rasped, chest heaving. He was moving slowly now and holding one hand out before him like he was trying not to startle a wild animal.
"How the fuck did you find me?" Cal asked, gaping at him as he continued to shuffle closer.
Artie huffed in exhausted, irritated amusement, one corner of his lips quirking up. "I got a new notification for Viridian’s badge scan. We can talk about why you have a copy of his badge another time when we’re not in the middle of a fucking crisis."
"No one can know—"
"No kidding, dipshit," Artie snapped.
When Artie continued to approach, Cal took a step back. "I know you want to drag me to the safe room but—"
"Cal, I’m gonna be honest with you, at this point, I will settle for you just staying the fuck put," Artie grumbled, chest still heaving, still out of breath. He pulled out one of the office chairs and threw himself into it, eyes following Cal’s every move. "I know you’re the one that wanted to go over the emergency protocols for your team, but after this bullshit I’m setting up a meeting and we are figuring out a better response for you specifically because I am not going through this again.”
“So long as it involves strategies to ensure Viridian’s safety too, I’m all for it,” Cal snapped.
Artie let out a heavy exhale and nodded absently, as if he’d already thought of that. “You find him?"
Cal blinked. "What?"
"Viridian," Artie replied as if it were obvious. "That’s why you’re down here right? Trying to figure out where he met with Orange?"
Cal just nodded, mutely, shifting slightly so he blocked the monitor of the computer he’d been using. "Not yet," he said, not quite lying.
Artie nodded and gestured at the computers around them. "I can help if you’re having trouble narrowing it down. He didn’t badge in anywhere this afternoon so he’s gotta be in the building. We can check for Orange's badge scans, see if we can locate them that way though most of the conference rooms in this building don't require you to badge in."
"What?" Cal murmured in surprise.
Artie turned in his chair to the desk closest to him. "I can help you figure it out—"
"No that’s not—" Cal stammered but stopped abruptly, realizing he’d just been about to outright lie to the one guy who would always know when he was lying.
Artie was wiggling the mouse to wake the computer up, but it was fully turned off. Cal had to act quickly.
"You meant it—you would have taken me to Viridian," Cal blurted. "Even though it would’ve been safer to stay put."
Artie spun his chair around to face Cal again and snorted. "Uh, yeah. I know better than to expect you to listen to me if Viridian might be in trouble. I figured the best thing to do would be to get you to him if I could and then take you one at a time to the safe room."
A hysterical little laugh slipped up Cal’s chest and past his lips.
"I’m sorry I called you a coward," Cal said, taking himself by surprise.
Artie’s lips twitched a little. "Twice."
Brows knitting together in confusion, Cal asked, "What?"
"You called me a coward twice in one day," Artie reminded him, a crooked rueful smile cutting across his face. "You said it right before you left my apartment in the morning—"
"Okay but you were being cowardly," Cal scoffed dismissively.
Artie narrowed his eyes but his rueful grin didn’t waver. "And then again after the shooting range."
Cal scrunched up his face a little in embarrassment. "That time I was just trying to get under your skin."
Artie sighed and relaxed back in his chair, studying Cal, eyes roaming over him, openly checking for a lie. "Well," he replied finally. "It worked."
For a moment they just stared at one another, both of them openly appraising the other.
Something wounded and vulnerable flickered across Artie’s face before he croaked, "Why do you give a shit about me?"
Like a flashlight on a pitch dark night, those eight words from Artie illuminated Cal’s path ahead. He needed to get Artie out of here and he was pretty sure Artie had just shown him how he might manage that. It wouldn’t even require anything that Cal wasn’t already willing to give.
Cal came to perch on the desk Artie was seated before, allowing a small genuine smile to twitch at his lips. Artie rolled his chair around to face him.
Cal studied him, taking a moment to refine his approach.
"You don’t react at all when Orange makes you hurt yourself in front of me," he observed, eyes narrowing playfully. "Even in that first interrogation. You didn’t show any of your emotional distress and I’m sure you knew what was coming."
Shifting in his seat, Artie swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. "It would only make it harder for you," he whispered.
Cal nodded and huffed a sad little laugh. "Yeah. That’s my point."
Artie looked down at his feet, his brow furrowing. "I just—I thought—"
"Like me letting you kiss me," Cal interrupted gently. "If I had tried to fight you off—it would only make it harder for you."
He let Artie absorb that, knowing he’d need a minute to accept it given the guilt that Artie seemed to carry for that kiss in particular. He watched Artie’s chest hitch.
"It’s not your job to take care of me," Artie murmured.
"I know," Cal assured him softly, leaning back a little further on the desk, hands gripping the edges. He let one of his legs drift in-between Artie’s, allowing it to brush lightly against the inner part of Artie’s leg just below the knee. "But I still want to," he admitted softly, holding Artie’s gaze.
Eyes wide and chin tucked, Artie stared up at him through his lashes.
"Come to me," Cal whispered.
Artie swallowed then let his gaze drop.
"I want to hold you," Cal told him. "But I need to know you want me to."
"Like one of your subjects," Artie muttered.
Cal exhaled impatiently. "It’s the way we do things because we want it to be their choice. I fail to see what’s wrong with that."
"How am I supposed to know you want—"
"I orchestrated an entire evening with the sole purpose of getting you to hug me," Cal snapped at him in a moment of impatience. "And I got told off and kicked out for it."
Artie’s breath had picked up again and become ragged. He gave his head a small abbreviated shake as he blurted out, "I can’t stop Orange from using me to terrorize you. So if that’s all you’re—"
"Just stand up and hug me," Cal instructed calmly. "That’s what I’m asking of you."
Artie’s throat tautened and he ducked his head further but finally looked back up at Cal. "I don’t want you to—to befriend me or whatever because you’re afraid of me. Or afraid I’ll hurt your team."
Cal flinched at the implied accusation, the ugly afterimage of Cobalt flickering in the corners of his mind.
Artie looked up at him miserably, eyes desperate and pleading for understanding. "I’m not trying to be an ass about this right now I just—I know what you’ll do to yourself in order to protect them."
Cal closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, allowing his lungs to fill, his muscles to relax, his mind to clear. He was so close. He just needed to trust his instincts.
He heard the wheels of Artie’s office chair roll a bit, the chair itself creek.
Holding himself stock still, Cal waited.
It happened slowly at first. So slow it took Cal a moment to become aware of it. His chest, the front of his legs, his face all began to absorb a warmth that was at odds with the cool sterile air around them. Cal tightened his grip on the edge of the desk to keep from reaching out and touching Artie, knowing he had to be standing close for Cal to be able to feel the heat of his body.
The touch was hesitant, a little awkward, as a hand came first to Cal’s waist and then slowly slid around to encircle him. But then there was a sudden rushing forward as Artie pressed against him and buried his face in Cal’s neck, breathing deep, his arm squeezing tight.
The moment Artie’s chest made contact with his, Cal released the desk and wrapped his arms around Artie, squeezing him in return. He sent one hand gliding up Artie’s back, sweeping it up into Artie’s hair and threading his fingers through it.
Artie was so warm and soft. There was a surprising solidness beneath it all that delighted Cal. Dipping his head, he nuzzled at Artie’s shoulder and let himself relish the comfort and ease of holding and being held.
It was only then that it occurred to Cal just how odd it was that one of Artie’s arms still hung limply at his side, Cal having slipped his own arm under it in order to embrace him.
"A two arm hug is too much of a commitment for you?" Cal teased, his words muffled against Artie’s neck.
"I think I fucked my arm up breaking down your front door," Artie admitted, sounding sheepish.
Cal pulled back just enough to look Artie in the eye, brows flat and knitted together as he gaped at him. "You actually broke down our door?" he asked, voice higher pitched than usual.
Artie scrunched up one side of his face. "Yeah. Sorry."
"I mean I’m sure it’ll be a quick fix for maintenance but for fuck’s sake Artie—"
"This is nice and all but we were and are in the middle of a fucking crisis," Artie deadpanned, eyes glittering with annoyed amusement. "I’d break down your door for less."
Feeling a little giddy, Cal murmured, "Promise?"
Artie snorted and ducked his head, hiding his face in the crook of Cal’s shoulder. "Shut up."
Grinning now, Cal nuzzled at the side of Artie’s face as he teased, "Come on, you have to admit that’s kind of hot."
"Do not—"
"Why?" Cal mumbled, breathing along Artie’s neck.
"Cal—" Artie croaked.
"Mm?" Cal hummed just below Artie’s ear.
"You need to stop that."
"Is that an order?" Cal taunted and nipped at Artie’s ear lobe. Artie’s hand fisted at the fabric at the back of Cal’s waistcoat.
"We’re in the Trunk where any god damn Ty Betteridge could walk in at any point—hell they can probably transport in if they have a high enough clearance," Artie growled, but he was pressing the front of his body firmly against Cal’s now.
"So take me home," Cal murmured.
"Cal."
"What? I’m a problem solver, it’s sort of my whole thing," Cal chuckled.
Artie straightened up and eyed him, his hand sliding from the center of Cal’s back down to his hip. "Are you saying you’ll actually let me transport you to safety—"
"To your apartment or mine? Sure," Cal agreed easily. "I’m not going to sit in a safe room by myself though."
Artie’s expression clouded over at that. He swallowed then croaked, "I wouldn’t leave you alone like that."
Without letting himself overthink it, Cal brought a hand up to cup Artie’s cheek. He swished his thumb back and forth through Artie’s closely trimmed beard. Artie froze, the rise and fall of his chest stilling. Smiling softly and feeling almost drunk, Cal leaned in and nudged Artie’s nose with his own.
"Will you let me hold you tonight, big guy?" Cal asked softly, lips close enough to Artie’s to feel the small puff of his exhales.
"I—Ye—Yeah," Artie stammered.
"Okay," Cal murmured, brushing his lips lightly against Artie’s, just shy of a kiss.
Artie cleared his throat and stumbled back a little and Cal let out an exasperated sigh as Artie slipped from his embrace.
"Artie, come on. Don’t—"
"I’m not. I’m just—I’m just grabbing my phone so we can leave," Artie muttered shyly as he turned and bent to pick it up from the seat of the office chair he’d been sitting in moments ago.
"Oh," Cal laughed. "Okay, well hurry up. It’s freezing down here."
Artie let out a half irritated, half amused noise at the back of his throat. "Just gimme a second to look around. We can’t leave any evidence that we were here or we’re both—"
He paused as he straightened up, his back to Cal.
"What’s wrong? Is it your arm?" Cal asked, concerned. They were definitely going to need Ultra to take a look at it. Artie had barely moved it since entering the Trunk. Cal wasn’t sure he could move it.
But Artie didn’t answer. Didn’t move.
"Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me. It’s just a hug for fuck’s—"
"Is that Viridian?" Artie asked, baffled.
The words sent the cold already swirling around Cal rushing in. He didn’t need to follow Artie’s gaze to the monitor. He knew what Artie saw. Two iterations of Viridian. One stepping off an elevator, the other remaining behind.
The path Cal had been following so carefully seemed to erupt violently before him and he could see the next few moments with a horrific startling clarity. His chest hollowed out as he understood, nearly sagging forward to accommodate the sudden emptiness within him. He felt an odd sense of unreality as he unholstered his service weapon, fingers brushing the soft leather of the holster that Artie had gifted him.
The gun felt too heavy in Cal’s shaking hands as he raised it and pointed it at Artie’s back. His heart had broken—broken out into a sprint, his pulse pounding against the thin skin of his wrists and neck—throbbing almost painfully—threatening to burst through.
"Why—Oh fuck. Cal, he’s—he’s part of whatever is—"
There was an explosion of sound as Cal pulled the trigger that seemed to rip apart the air between them. A high pitched shrieking erupted in an instant, filling the room and making it impossible to hear anything else.
As a result, he felt rather than heard Artie drop to the floor with a hard thud. The ringing in his ears slowly began to fade and Cal wished it wouldn’t. An ugly wet rasping sound filled the otherwise silent room.
Blood seeped out rapidly across the floor from beneath Artie, spreading under Cal’s shoes. Quivering and gasping for air—tasting copper and something more bitter on his tongue—Cal moved unsteadily, bending down beside Artie.
"Fuck," Cal whispered wetly. The tears had begun the moment Artie had said Viridian’s name.
Artie was making small helpless choking noises now but he didn’t move. Other than the fluttering of his lashes and the gaping of his mouth, his body was eerily still.
"Artie, I’m so sorry," Cal choked out. He swiped at his running nose and wet cheeks. "I’m so sorry—I didn’t—I don’t want—I’ll fix this—I’ll fix it and it’ll be okay" he blubbered, trembling as he grasped at Artie’s shoulder, running fingers through his hair.
He needed to go, to run away from here before some random Ty came down and caught him red handed.
But he couldn’t leave Artie. Not even when his eyes finally went vacant and the wet choking sounds stopped.
So Cal lay down beside him, and pulled Artie’s limp body close and wrapped his arms around him, warm sticky blood seeping into Cal’s clothes until it soaked his skin.
"I’m sorry," Cal whispered, scrunching his eyes closed and pressing his face into the crook of Artie’s neck, the skin there clammy and lifeless against Cal’s cheek. Tears continued to stream down Cal’s face, soaking the shoulder of Artie’s band t-shirt. "I won’t leave you like this. I won’t abandon you," Cal promised as his breathing grew erratic. "I’ll protect you better. I promise, I’ll protect you better."
Then, without warning, he was nowhere.
And alone.
The Compound
Three Years and Ten Months after Mikey Walters Walked out of the Latvian Forest
Wednesday July 5, 2023
3:15 PM
Again
"It could be a good way to demonstrate your faith in them. In allowing Ollie and Mal the opportunity to take on this project together, independently, you would signal to your team that this change is status is more than just lip service," Viridian pointed out, tugging lightly on Cal’s hand in a demand for his attention.
Cal sighed and nodded. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. "If nothing else it’s a good way to convince them to let Ultra do the procedure."
When Viridian gave Cal’s hand another tug, Cal raised his brows a little in inquiry, confused.
"Come here," Viridian murmured, a soft smile on his lips.
Cal glanced at their open office door.
"No one will see," Viridian murmured, his smile stretching a little wider.
Cal let out a huff of laughter and bent to press his lips to Viridian’s. Viridian released Cal’s hand to cradle Cal’s cheek for a moment before it dropped and Viridian sat back in his chair, eyeing Cal fondly.
Cal straightened and sighed. "I love you," he murmured.
"And I you," Viridian replied softly. "You’re brilliant, you know."
Cal snorted, a blush stealing up his cheeks. "I’m just making this up as I go along," he mumbled shyly.
Viridian chuckled and started to say something in reply when there was a small ding! from his phone. He picked it up from his desk and pressed his lips together in displeasure.
"Something wrong?" Cal asked, perching on the edge of Viridian’s desk.
"Orange has asked for a last minute meeting and I’m supposed to have that meeting with Mike One and one of the OvEdgars," he muttered, tapping at his phone with irritable little stabs.
Cal wrinkled his nose. "Did Orange say what about?"
Viridian sighed as he kneaded the space between his brows. He looked tired. "He wants to discuss what to do about Medical in light of everything. I think he’s nearing the end of his inquiry into Cobalt’s behavior."
Cal grimaced. That was not the kind of meeting Viridian could reschedule. But it would look poorly on them if they had to reschedule things with OvEdgar at the last minute.
"If you want I can take the meeting with OvEdgar," Cal offered.
Viridian looked up at Cal in confused surprise. "Don’t you have your meeting with Arctos this afternoon?"
Cal gripped the edge of Viridian’s desk and tapped his fingers against the top as he thought. "Artie can wait. He didn’t even want the meeting in the first place."
And that was before the two of them had quarreled.
Viridian studied him for a moment. "MW asked to join the meeting as well," he reminded, pinning Cal with a meaningful look. Cal would need to make sure to pass along the information about the compound's lost tracing capabilities.
Cal nodded and held his hands before him "I know, I know. It’ll be fine."
Viridian's meaningful look shifted to one of concern. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.
At the moment he felt more uneasy about meeting one on one with Artie than the idea of having to put up with an ungrateful runaway iteration.
"I'm sure," he insisted.
Viridian pursed his lips and sighed. "I suppose I don’t have any better alternatives. I just hate to put you in this position."
"You’re not putting me in a position, I offered," Cal reminded.
Viridian was still grimacing but he nodded. "Very well, if you’re sure, I’ll add you to the meeting invite now. It should have all the details—oh! And don’t forget to wear an earpiece. You’ll be meeting with a subject and external visitors, after all."
Cal sighed and quickly submitted a request for an earpiece. One appeared on his desk a moment later. Next he tapped out a message to Artie.
Sorry, something’s come up and I have to cover a meeting for Viridian. Rescheduling our meeting for tomorrow.
A little typing indicator bubble appeared and disappeared, then appeared once more. Finally his reply came through.
And I’m the coward.
Cal shoved his phone in his back pocket with a huff. The jackass.
"Everything alright?" Viridian asked as he stood and gathered up his clipboard.
Cal chuckled ruefully and snatched up his notebook and the earpiece from his desk. "Yeah. Just Artie being his usual charming self."
Viridian pressed his lips together in a vain attempt to hide a knowing smile. As they headed out the door together, Cal slid his hand under the back of Viridian’s suit jacket to rest it on Viridian’s lower back and pressed a kiss to Viridian’s cheek.
"Wish me luck," Cal muttered as they reached the end of the hall together.
"You won’t need it but I wish you luck anyway," Viridian replied lightly as they arrived at the door to the conference room.
Viridian was pressing a light kiss to Cal’s temple as Andrin came around the corner with OvEdgar in tow. Andrin smiled at Cal in greeting as Viridian continued off down the hallway toward the lifts.
Behind Andrin, OvEdgar’s eyes slid from Cal to Viridian’s retreating form, his expression alert. Cal couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw surprise there too.
Smothering a flair of irritation at having been witnessed with his guard down, Cal pulled on an easy smile as his muscles loosened, projecting an air of calm confidence.
Professional that he was, Andrin didn’t comment on the fact that he was handing OvEdgar off to Cal instead of Viridian as he’d likely expected. Instead he merely said, "If you require anything further let me know."
"Thank you, Andrin," Cal replied and turned to OvEdgar. "After you," he encouraged, his polite smile never wavering.
As he and OvEdgar made their way in Cal mentally settled into his comfortable mask of polite professionalism, something that allowed him to experience a genuine calm, if only for a moment.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Cal glanced over at Mike One, who’d stood up so fast his chair was in danger of falling over. Well. Michael must’ve finally admitted to the sexual nature of his and Cal’s relationship during the period of time Cal had been providing direct support. Cal had known it was inevitable but the timing was unfortunate.
Beside Mike One was the runaway iteration, appearing surprised by Mike One’s sudden outburst. He looked prepared to hold Mike One back, one hand already on Mike One’s shoulder.
Cal’s smile didn’t waver as he replied, “I’m here to represent the compound’s interests.”
"Where’s Ty?" Mike One snarled.
Cal chuckled with real amusement as he took his seat. "Hate me so much that you actually want to spend time with Ty, mm?"
He folded his hands on the table and waited patiently for the others to take their seats.
The runaway leaned in close and murmured something in Mike One’s ear.
Cal glanced to his right at OvEdgar who’d sat beside him. OvEdgar was watching Mike One with concern.
"I’m not sitting across from this sniveling compound ghoul," Mike One snapped at the runaway and actually took a step as if he intended to move around the table to physically assault Cal.
Well that was cute.
"You wouldn’t even land the first blow, Mike," Cal taunted lightly, utterly unfazed by Mike One’s aggression. Mike One’s ingratitude was disappointing but not unexpected. After all it’s not as if Mike One was aware of all that Cal had risked to assist him and his fellow iterations inside the compound.
A nerve in Mike One’s cheek twitched.
"You know what? I’d like to test that theory," Mike One snarled and tried to wrench his arm from the runaway’s grip and lunge around the table to attack Cal. The runaway held him fast however and Cal sighed and tapped his pointer fingers together, his hands still clasped.
Maybe it was his frustration with Artie bleeding over into this moment or maybe it was the recent revelation that Viridian had lied to him about his first four months in the compound. Or maybe it was the ongoing investigation into Cobalt hanging over everything. Or maybe it was just the series of late nights he’d had over the past couple weeks.
Whatever it was, instead of shutting up and waiting for Mike One’s anger to blow over as it surely would, Cal found himself saying, "You should be thanking me, Mike. I’m the reason you were reassigned to Michael. That was my recommendation."
Maybe he just wanted some fucking credit.
But he’d known when he’d said that he was playing with fire. And it was Cal who had the power in this scenario.
And he knew better.
So when Mike One suddenly lunged across the table and spat in his face, Cal merely blinked as he stood and crossed to the sideboard while his blood began to boil in his veins.
The runaway and Mike One continued to mutter to one another as Cal plucked up a few tissues and tried to get a hold of himself. He had one goal here and it was to find an opportunity to inform the runaway that the compound had lost its tracing capabilities. Other than that he was merely present to represent the compound’s interests in the aneurysm studies contract. Nothing more.
It was good, really, that Mike One was being so hostile. It was an important reminder to Cal that there was a distance between himself and Mike that could never be bridged. It didn’t matter that they now both had experience performing the support role. Cal would not fool himself into thinking that might lead to understanding. Or compassion.
No. Compassion was for Cal to give. Not to receive. He needed to make his peace with that.
"Are you alright?" a voice asked in Cal’s ear.
"Yes, thank you, Felix," he murmured in an undertone.
"It would be understandable if you weren’t," Felix assured him.
Cal smirked to himself. "Viridian asked you to keep an eye on me didn’t he?"
It had been a couple years since Felix had done an unprompted check in with Cal while he was running a meeting. Cal had been grateful for it back then, new as he’d been to his unique position within the compound. Now it felt a little insulting, even if it had been done out of concern. He didn’t want Felix believing he was incapable of handling meetings with external parties.
Felix chuckled in his ear. "He mentioned he tossed you into a challenging situation, very last minute."
Well, that was a little mollifying.
"I can ask Andrin to relieve you until Juniper’s available," Felix offered.
For a brief moment Cal seriously considered it. But he gave his head a small shake. "No. Thank you, though," he murmured and tossed the dirty tissues in the wastepaper basket.
By the time Cal retook his seat, the runaway was already putting his foot down about the existing aneurysm contract.
"Mike I know you wanna help Edgar—" the runaway was saying emphatically. "I do too, it’s why I’m here—but this—you cain’t keep workin’ for the compound. For one thing—"
The room plunged into sudden darkness.
"Please remain calm," Felix announced over Cal’s earpiece, his voice less conversational this time, more official. He was likely transmitting to several people at once. "There’s been a breach in Storage. Security is attempting to intervene. Please shelter in place and lock any doors."
Unable to see, Cal stumbled the short distance to the door, feeling around until he found the lock. Once that was engaged, Cal carefully made his way back, hand accidentally brushing against OvEdgar’s arm.
"Sorry," Cal murmured as he retook his seat. Turning slightly in his chair so he was facing away from the group gathered at the table he asked in an undertone, "Felix, are Viridian and my team—"
"They’re fine, Golden Boy" a familiar annoyed voice crackled over the earpiece. "Your team’s been transported to their safe room and Viridian has a badge scan for an eighth floor conference room in a restricted wing only fifteen minutes ago."
Cal’s chest loosened a little. Storage in this building was on levels four and five. At the very least it was unlikely Viridian would accidentally be caught in a crossfire.
"What about Edgar? Ultra, Seafoam, Em—"
"Edgar’s got his own emergency protocol. He’s safe and sound in his very own safe room," Artie told him. "I don’t know about the others, sorry."
Cal made an irritated noise at the back of his throat.
"You better stay put," Artie continued. He sounded a little breathless.
"What, you planning to come babysit me?" Cal taunted softly in return.
Artie snorted. "That is exactly what I’m doing."
With a small curl of pleasure coiling beneath his sternum Cal turned back to the others, his eyes just beginning to adjust to the darkness.
“Did Ty transport me back to the same day as the blackout from last month?” Mike One asked. “What day is it for you all?”
Dim red emergency lighting came up casting them all in a ruddy glow. Though it was still dark, it was easy enough to see OvEdgar’s hand clasping the runaway’s from across the table, his thumb swishing across the back of the runaway’s hand in a steady beat.
“Meetings with anyone external are usually done in linear time for the sake of simplicity,” Cal offered, words clipped.
“All of your transports are required to sync with linear progression,” OvEdgar began to explain to Mike One.
Cal missed what OvEdgar said next when Artie ’s voice crackled to life in his earpiece once more.
"I’m just outside the door," Artie panted into his ear. "The hallway’s clear at the moment. Please tell me you stayed put like a good boy."
"I’m still here," Cal said under his breath. "Do I get a treat?"
"Fuck off," Artie scoffed but Cal thought he sounded pleased.
Cal really needed to focus. In spite of the emergency happening around them he still needed to disclose the information about the Tracing servers.
"…essentially keeping your experience continuous," OvEdgar was saying, hand still holding the runaway’s as he tried to reassure Mike One as well. He was probably enjoying himself, holding court with three Mike Walters."MW and I—and I assume this compound iteration—”
The dismissiveness of this description had Cal’s spine straightening. But he maintained a calm, disinterested exterior. "Cal," he supplied crisply.
The abrupt silence that followed had the corners of Cal’s lips twitching.
"Oh they’ve pissed you off in there, huh?" Artie taunted.
OvEdgar was peering at him in open curiosity now. But when he spoke again he did so as if Cal hadn’t interrupted.
“We weren’t transported upon arriving at the compound. To answer your original question, this meeting is taking place on the actual date of July 5, 2023, not just simulated real time.”
Taking the opportunity before it passed him by, Cal muttered, “I have a feeling Ryan and Cannonball are raiding our servers again."
The runaway gawked at Cal, then turned to Mike One. “Wait, are you sayin’ this happened before?”
Mike One glanced from the runaway to Cal and back, “Yeah, the day I was reassigned to Michael. Almost exactly a month ago now. Ty didn’t tell me what had happened, though.”
Sitting up straight and furrowing his brow, Mike One’s gaze sharpened on Cal. “You’re saying this is Ryan and Cannonball?”
A real laugh bubbled up Cal’s chest now as Mike One gave him the perfect opening. It was all too easy. He relaxed back in his chair as he said, "I can’t say for sure. All I’ve been told so far is to shelter in place. But they do love to be a nuisance. The first time they took out the compound’s tracing capabilities. Who knows what they’re up to this time.”
Cal doubted this had anything to do with Ryan and Cannonball. But the runaway didn’t need to know that. He just needed to know that the compound no longer had tracing. And Cal’s nonchalance seemed to work like a charm because the runaway sat up straight and exchanged a meaningful glance with OvEdgar.
"Quit showing off," Artie admonished lightly.
"Yes sir," Cal murmured softly, pleased that it had all been so easy.
Cal’s self satisfaction waned as time wore on though, the wait for the all clear seeming interminable. OvEdgar and the runaway tried to keep things light, filling Mike One in on events that had happened outside the compound. The runaway did most of the talking and seemed deeply unused to being the center of attention, stammering and clearing his throat repeatedly as he described an idyllic life with Matt of all people. Cal pretended disinterest but he had to admit he wondered how the other Mike Walters felt about that particular relationship. But the sound of distant gunfire from above them kept startling them, keeping them all on edge, Cal included.
Cal must’ve exhaled sharply one too many times because Artie seemed to sense Cal’s simmering anxiety.
"From what I’m hearing from security, everything’s been contained to the fourth and fifth floors," Artie reassured.
Before Cal could murmur his thanks to Artie, OvEdgar turned away from the conversation Mike One and the runaway were having to say, "You’ve done well for yourself. I imagine that wasn’t easy."
Startled at this sudden attention Cal just offered him a look of polite interest, not sure there was much to say in response. He doubted OvEdgar was actually interested in the trials and tribulations of his life in the compound and what he’d accomplished.
But OvEdgar continued to wait for a response, patient as ever, soft eyes looking him over.
"I’ve been lucky," Cal offered simply.
OvEdgar’s smile widened a bit. "No doubt. But I get the sense you’ve made the most of that luck."
"Don’t let him bait you," Artie advised over the earpiece.
Cal just smiled benignly at OvEdgar. It was cute that this Edgar iteration thought he could get under Cal’s skin. But unlike the Mikeys this iteration was used to dealing with, Cal had been navigating compound office politics and watching grisly experiments without flinching for years.
OvEdgar pressed his lips together and glanced over at Mike One and the runaway before returning his attention to Cal.
"The compound lost tracing?" OvEdgar asked quietly, his gaze holding Cal’s.
Cal gave him a small nod in confirmation, unsurprised by the sudden change in topic. Cal was never OvEdgar's primary concern. Cal was never anyone’s primary concern outside the compound.
OvEdgar’s gaze became distant and Cal smothered a smirk as he watched the rapid calculations happening behind his eyes. He hadn’t expected OvEdgar to take much interest in the compound’s lack of tracing other than how it might prevent the compound's ability to track OvEdgar and his little band of castaways. But if OvEdgar was interested in helping the runaway come up with an alternative means of ensuring the aneurysm studies happened, all the better.
He started to turn away from OvEdgar to allow him space to silently scheme, but was stopped by a hand on his upper arm.
"Are you happy?" OvEdgar asked softly.
Head snapping back to OvEdgar, Cal felt his expression go blank and his muscles hardened. Shifting the rest of his body back to face him with the slow intentional movements of a predator, Cal heard himself ask, "Tell me, Edgar. Are you the one we kept here in storage as a favor to Base?"
A steely smile cut across OvEdgar’s lip, his eyes glittering. "No, I’m the other one."
The other one. The one who, from what Cal had heard, had lived months on the run all by himself.
With a provocative upward flick of his brow, Cal smirked. "Sounds to me like we both got lucky."
OvEdgar tilted his head in acknowledgement of this. "And we both fought like hell for our happiness."
Bright fluorescent lighting flooded the room and they all blinked as they got their bearings.
"They need to leave," Artie told him over the earpiece. "Compound’s going into lockdown while we assess the damage.
Unsurprisingly, Mike One and the runaway objected to the meeting’s abrupt end and didn’t stop fussing until Cal booked them for a meeting on Friday when the dust would likely—hopefully—have settled.
After Mike One was transported back to his quarters with Michael Two, Cal led OvEdgar and the runaway out into the hallway where Artie stood sentinel before the door.
The runaway raised a brow and glanced back at Cal, "There’s two o’ you workin’ for 'em?"
A glance at Artie’s blank expression told Cal that Artie would not be speaking for himself.
"He’s my body guard," Cal offered—a small piece of the truth. Shielding Artie from their curiosity was the least Cal could do, really.
This information had both OvEdgar’s and the runaway’s attention swinging back to Cal with open interest and surprise.
Artie grunted and nodded in the direction they needed to start heading.
"Come on, before he starts nipping our heels," Cal quipped and led the way with Artie bringing up the rear.
There was always at least some visible security presence around the compound’s campus but as they stepped outside and made their way to the Guest Arrivals building there were security details everywhere. Multiple guards were stationed outside each building and units on the roofs along with a few sharpshooters.
By the time they reached Guest Arrivals, the runaway looked eager to leave. But after signing out, OvEdgar turned and held out his hand to Cal.
"I look forward to our next meeting," OvEdgar told him, that benign polite smile affixed to his face once more.
A smile that Cal returned with ease as he pocketed the small scrap of paper that OvEdgar had passed him. "As do I. Have a good evening Edgar."
With that Cal turned on his heel and turned back toward the exit that would lead him back to Viridian and the safety of the compound—all the while Artie remained close by his side.