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A/N: Last chapter! Thanks for sticking along with me through the ride, and also for reviewing, if you have. I really, really appreciate it!
p.s.--I'm considering doing a short story like this one for the other CAPTOR agents as well. Should I?
I swallowed hard, feeling a little uneasy about what was happening. I was not sure exactly why I was on a boat instead of a plane; after all, it could have been a straight shot from California to Canada that way. Still, the boat was leaving port from California and traveling to Canada, with me on it. What really got me was the fact that I was going to Manitoba, which, if I remembered correctly, was somewhere near the center of the borderline between the States and Canada. It would most likely mean taking a boat and then taking a plane; I didn't understand why they couldn't have just flown me to some Canadian airport and then driven me to Manitoba or whatever. I had nothing to declare, anyway...the year 2010 was so complicated!
Regardless, I was on this boat, and on this boat I was expected to meet the Commander and Chief of DARIET, as well as the members of the team I was supposed to be working with. As I passed through the doorway, I could already feel Agis leaving; the small, phantom connection I still had with the man told me as much. It made me feel empty again, and I shivered from more than just the cold of winter, pulling my brown trench coat tighter around me.
“Ah, you must be Mr. Saaris,” a warm voice said. I flinched a little and spun around; I hadn’t even heard the man coming. A tall man he was, too; something like six feet with dark hair and steely blue eyes. I swallowed again reflexively.
“Um…y-yes sir. Are you with DARIET, by any chance?”
“Indeed I am…I’m surprised that you knew. Then again, since you’re a telepath, I’m not surprised. You have quite a level of skill for your age. Nineteen, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes…sir. Nineteen.” Good God, he knows everything about me. Why does everyone know everything about me before I know anything about them?
“Mm. I’m Tokoro Izuma, Chief of DARIET. I’m sure you know this, but we save lives based on whether or not the police force can’t.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Izuma.” I nodded again, pleasantly surprised to find that the man’s mental personality was nothing but serene and warm at the moment. There were some thoughts that countered the warmth, mostly annoyance with his subordinate, but I could find no other hostility from the man.
Izuma suddenly looked around, his eyes curious. “Reni, I have yet to meet your parents. Are they with you?”
I wasn’t surprised that the question had come up, but I was surprised that he didn’t know about my past. Or, perhaps he did—surely he had received a file on me!—and was just inquiring out of politeness. If so, he hid his awareness well beneath the slight confusion. I bowed my head and clasped my hands in the picture of something that was almost regret, frowning a little. “No, sir,” I said. “They…I have not seen them since I was nine, sir.”
“Nine?” Izuma sounded honestly surprised this time, and I decided he hadn’t known after all; it was probably the only thing he hadn’t known about me. “That’s quite a young age to be disowned by your parents.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied quietly. “They were sickened by the fact that I have this…power. They thought it would get them in trouble.”
Izuma did not miss the note of bitterness that had found its way into my voice, I could tell. “Ah. Well, rest assured that you will fit in very well with the others in DARIET.” He held out a hand.
I shook it, smiling faintly. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
“Think nothing of it,” Izuma smiled warmly. “We can use you. Are you ready to meet the others?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, back to respect. I had a very good opinion about the Chief, now; he seemed pleased with me, and I certainly was with him. He was nothing like what I had expected. I followed him into what looked like the ship captain’s quarters, still feeling warm from Mr. Izuma’s compassion; however, the warmth began to fade away as the presence of others took its place, and I found myself slightly unsteady as the ship pulled away from port. I did my best to tune the barely-audible whispering out and concentrate on what I was doing, to be enthusiastic about meeting the others.
“The others” turned out to be the Commander, Julio Deshita, and the secretary, Mark Smith. There was also an ice-user, an alchemist, a “shape-shifter”, a woman who controlled the weather based primarily on her mood (no wonder it was sunny despite the winter season, I thought; her smile was brilliant), and a healer. They were introduced to me as Amon Fields, Kanesuma Rayouki, Arina Trill, Eden Sakano, and Stefan Bashkir, and I was introduced to them as Reni Saaris—nothing more.
“It’s good to meet you, finally,” the weather-woman said warmly. She had blonde hair pulled up into a clip, and blue eyes. “We heard about you a few years ago, you know.”
“Ah,” I managed, nodding faintly; the voices in my head were starting to make an impression on me, and not a good one. The healer seemed to notice and swept his amethyst eyes up and down my figure with a light frown; I tried not to shiver at the intensity of his gaze.
“Sir,” he addressed the Chief, still frowning as he shielded his eyes from the light of the setting sun streaming through the window, “you said he was a telepath?”
Izuma nodded. “That is correct, Stefan.”
“He’ll prove quite the asset, won’t he,” the Commander murmured speculatively, giving me chills when he looked at me; I couldn’t keep the shiver back, this time. “Yes…”
“Hold your place, Deshita, you don’t want to frighten him off,” the Chief said good-naturedly, settling a hand on my shoulder, but there was something sharp in his eyes. He frowned at me then. “Hmm…you’re quite cold for the atmosphere, aren’t you? I would imagine that coat is more than enough to keep you warm.”
“I suppose so, sir,” I murmured, my shivering constant now. My throat seemed to be opening and closing of its own free will. “Um, I’m…If you’ll excuse me, please…”
Without waiting for a response I made a quick escape to the top deck of the boat, going over to the side and collapsing into a sitting position against the bottom of the railing. I shivered weakly as I huddled inside my coat, feeling dizzy from the sway of the boat as it set off for Canada and far too lightheaded for it to mean I’d been awake too long. The voices in my head were getting more prominent, now, tearing at my shields; I fought desperately to keep them up as nausea rose from my stomach, and failed miserably. With a moan I pulled myself up and turned around, leaning forward against the railing and clutching it for dear life as I let the last of my shields shatter.
The voices rose full-blast, crashing over me like a tidal wave to drag me under, and with them came the awful feeling that I had the flu. I leaned further forward, over the railing, and heaved, bringing up everything I had eaten that day. I had to close my eyes; the taste was enough to make me gag again without having to watch it happen. Tears fell unbidden down my cheeks as I was given a temporary reprieve, and I slumped against the railing, coughing weakly. It seemed as though I would simply melt and slide away into the water at any moment.
Maybe...maybe I should've.
“Hey! I’ve been looking all over for you, kid,” Stefan greeted cheerfully, coming up behind me, his black, spiky hair stirring in the wind. His cheerfulness quickly faded to concern as he watched me shudder and lean dangerously forward, coughing; I didn’t have the strength to fight off multiple conscious presences any longer. “Hey, are you all right?”
Panting, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and slumped weakly against the railing. “There are too many people here,” I mumbled, as Stefan came up beside me and put a hand on my back. His touch was light; clearly he was wary of causing me any more pain, and I was grateful. I could feel him communicating with Mr. Izuma, and I vaguely wondered how he could shield his thoughts from me so well. “My shields weren’t strong enough.”
“You’ll get training for that when we get to Canada,” Stefan reassured me. “Don’t worry about it. Oh…” He winced in sympathy as I lost control again, sighing. “You’ll be all right,” he whispered, as I let out a dry, ragged sob. The healer looked over my back at something, and I glanced briefly over before turning my head away.
The Chief and a strong, weathered man who looked to be about twice Mr. Izuma’s age (somewhere in his late forties, early fifties, I guessed, and probably the captain of the ship) were standing near the stairs, talking in quiet tones. The Chief gestured my way, looking concerned, and I heard the captain laugh heartily. “He jes’ ain’t got his sea legs yet. ‘E’ll be fine, when he gets ‘imself them legs. Y’ knows ‘t, good sir!” he grinned cheerfully. I wanted to hit him.
“The poor telepath,” as the Commander had so snidely put it (Izuma was terribly displeased with him again—he seemed determined to stay in the man’s bad graces), was sick until we reached port in Canada, where the healer put me to sleep with power, and only then did I rest with my fever.
“Things will get better,” the Chief had assured me, watching as I folded to Stefan’s healing. His warmth and compassion wrapped around me again, helping me to find peace, and I managed a very, very faint smile. It felt good to be cared about again. “You’ll be all right when we get there.”
He was being completely honest and I was glad for it; that's a rare thing to come by from someone you've just met. He was right, too...everything turned out fine.
“Can I go now, please? I’m not fond of psychic evaluations, or any type of evaluation at all, really…” he trailed off and then shook his head slightly, reminding himself that the man knew about Agis and what he had done. He was grateful, too, for the fact that doctors were not allowed to reveal anything about their patients unless granted permission from said patient—there were exceptions, certainly; the technicians in the Lab, the Chief and Commander, the secretary; regardless, this would stay under wraps from his coworkers until he decided to tell them or an emergency came up.
The calculating look in the technician’s eyes immediately vanished at Reni’s words, and he smiled softly in understanding, setting his clipboard aside and upside-down. “Are you tired?” he asked calmly; a real question, not a required-psych-evaluation one.
Reni gazed back at him dully, the white of his uniform burning into his eyes. “Yes,” he replied softly, reaching up again with a hand. He brushed some stray hairs from his face and paused there briefly, just for a second in hesitation of some phantom pain, before dropping his hand unceremoniously. “I am very tired. I have been very tired, for a very long time.”
The technician seemed to understand again, the smile fading into something that was not disgust or pity; something neutral—he, too, was tired, Reni could see; this man had seen things that had matured him far beyond his twenty-nine years. “I see,” the technician said quietly, nodding.
Reni felt himself slowing down and sighed inwardly; he would have to ask Amon for a ride again tonight because he was far too tired to drive himself home. Training wore him completely out, but his shields and defenses were getting better.
“Reni.” He met the technician’s eyes again; the endless pools of blue were serious but gentle. “Go home, all right? Tell Mark that I gave you orders to skip the rest of your activities tonight, and not to come in tomorrow.”
Reni blinked. Had he heard right, or was that his mind playing tricks on him in its sleep-muddled processing? “Not to come to—are you…serious?”
“Does it sound like I’m lying?” The man tapped the side of his head with a finger, smiling softly. “Up here?”
Reni sighed and smiled back. “No, sir,” he breathed, relieved. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re dismissed…” The technician picked up his clipboard as Reni stood and started for the door, suddenly sounding very weary, and Reni felt extremely sorry for him. “Please send the next person in.”
Nodding wordlessly, Reni walked out, and did not look back.
But, naturally, Reni doesn’t know the people he works with and around very well yet, and so he can’t bring himself to call them anything more than what they are: co-workers. Friends does not come until about a month later, minimum, for anyone in DARIET; in this organization, one must first learn, know, and trust almost everything about a person before they can be called a friend in a closer sense of the word.
Thank you SO MUCH for reading!
