Chapter Eighteen
Repercussions
Uploaded on 3/13/07
Note: This chapter is very long, has some graphic parts, violence, language and alarming scenes in general. Did I mention that it's very long? It's also been revised a million times so if anything has been missed in the editing/revising please drop a line and let us know.
Anderson McCall's sister Nicole found his body three days after he'd committed suicide. He'd ingested a deadly amount of painkillers and alcohol and she found him slumped over his desk; the smell was the only thing that had given away the fact that he hadn't just fallen asleep. The media had a field day with it and headlines read such things as "Man of God Commits Ultimate Sin After Being Accused of Murder and Prostitution".
Sin lingered in New Orleans for two more days to avoid the conspicuousness commonly associated with checking out before one night had even passed and his mood grew blacker with every hour that went by. The guilt he felt was overwhelming and even after he'd managed to control that, he couldn't forget the things that McCall had said to him.
It alarmed him that he'd associated the love of a friend with Boyd, especially since he knew that none of Boyd's acts of kindness towards him had been genuine. Despite that, everything seemed to make sense all of a sudden. It'd been after Boyd had showed him that kindness that he'd become so much more aware of his actions; after Boyd had begun treating him like a normal human, he'd begun thinking and even feeling like one. He'd liked the fact that finally someone saw him as something other than a murderer. Maybe that was even why he'd confused it with other things.
He'd confused gratitude and friendship with romantic attachment but it didn't matter anyway, in the end it'd all been an act but the damage seemed to be permanently done. Boyd was back to his normal routine of blank silence and the things he'd brought out in Sin wouldn't go away. It made him angry at himself, made him angrier at Boyd; the boy had fucked him up royally and didn't even seem affected by it. He'd broken through the barriers that had kept Sin from feeling too much, from thinking too much, then he'd fucked him over and didn't even have to deal with any of the repercussions. He didn't want any of this and he wished he could go back to the way he'd been before. He wished he'd never known what it felt like to have someone who he thought cared about him; he wished he'd never felt the need to be better so that person would continue to care.
It was February 11th when Carhart called him and informed him that he was to meet Boyd at a motel in Toronto on the 13th. There was a small group there being run by a former core member of Janus named Alexis Denis; she was gaining support easily and expanding membership. It seemed as though they were now trying to set up a base in North America which was dangerous; it was too close to home. They were to negotiate with the woman, try to turn her to their side and if that was not possible, to attempt to bring her back alive for Intel gathering.
He was not prepared to face the object of his ire just yet, but it was unavoidable and he arrived at the motel precisely on time and in the worst mood he'd been in for a long time. Sin knocked on the door of the room number he was provided and barely had to wait before Boyd appeared in the doorway. It was a sudden enough appearance after a month apart that they stared at each other just for a second.
Sin was particularly scruffy; he had not shaved in awhile, his clothes were completely rumpled and he looked weary and tired. Boyd, on the other hand, was completely composed, his typical dark clothing clean and pressed. The only sign that anything was different was the weariness in his movements and the fact that his expression was so removed that even his eyes seemed dull.
"Ah," Boyd said emotionlessly as he stepped to the side so Sin could enter, "You arrived."
Sin shrugged and dropped his duffel bag on the floor. "Unfortunately," he said flatly. He wondered if there was a reason behind Boyd's deader than usual expression, or if his brief attitude adjustment had been an act as well. "How long have you been here?"
Boyd did not react to Sin's comment; instead, he merely answered his question with the same lack of emotion. "Two days." He shut the door behind Sin and gestured idly to some blueprints scattered across a low-lying table in the room. "The plan will best be explained on site."
"And why's that?" He gave Boyd a flat look and rolled his shoulders. "Whatever, I don't even care. Let's just go and get it over with." The faster this mission was over, the better. It was too soon for him to deal with Boyd. "I don't want to stay here tonight."
Looking at Sin sidelong, Boyd waited a moment before he walked past him and gathered the blueprints from the table and answered his question anyway. "Because it is difficult to show on all the little pieces of paper." There was a slight edge to his voice that almost came off as condescending.
"Like I said, I don't care. Let's just go." He gave Boyd an irritated look, grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the door again, trying to ignore the frustration and anger that was building inside of him. This was exactly the reason he hadn't wanted to see him just yet; the slightest look or tone put him on edge and he had an uncontrollable desire to be extremely cruel to Boyd.
Grabbing the car keys and a bag that was waiting by the door, Boyd was close behind him. He did not say anything at first as they headed out of the motel, but as soon as they were settled in the car he looked over. "I'll remind you I've been here longer than you have," and the slight edge was still there though it no longer seemed condescending. "You don't have to act as though it's so painful to be here after you only arrived minutes ago."
"Believe me, it's painful being here at all." Green eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth turned downwards before he turned to look out the window.
Boyd stared at him,and his eyes narrowed as well before he revved the car and pulled out of the parking lot a little faster than was necessary. "I don't want to be here either," he said flatly.
"Then go away," Sin replied. "Go back to roaming around your empty house and counting the days until you die, or whatever the hell your problem is." Sin scowled deeply and looked over at Boyd again, trying to gauge the boy's expression and almost feeling sorry that he'd allowed the words to slip out of his mouth. It was kind of pathetic how he wanted to be hateful to Boyd but he felt guilty as soon as he actually was.
The little bit of irritation that had made its way into Boyd's expression closed off immediately and he once again looked emotionless despite the fact that he seemed to be gritting his teeth. Turning his attention back to the road, Boyd drove just above the speed limit toward their destination. "I suppose you'll have to wait for that glorious day until we're not caught in the same car," he said after a moment of silence, his voice cold. "You can always make it faster and arrange for me to have a little 'accident' while we're here if you want."
"Why bother?" He asked dully. Even if Boyd did leave for whatever reason, Sin would probably just wind up more emotionally fucked up than ever.
Boyd narrowed his eyes very slightly but said nothing. He almost missed the street they were looking for and had to slam on the brakes to turn in time, resulting in a loud squealing noise that was rather conspicuous. Getting them on the correct street, he started off again just at the speed limit.
Sin almost made a comment about his partner's driving but decided it was better to stay silent.
Looking at Sin sidelong, Boyd seemed to assume what Sin was thinking. "Don't say it," he said with an edge.
Pale, green eyes slid over to Boyd and Sin's mouth curled unpleasantly. "What are you even talking about?"
"You were thinking something snide and I don't feel like listening to your sarcasm," Boyd said coolly, looking back at the road.
"Then why the fuck would you even speak to me?" Sin asked, tone cutting and annoyed. "You're showing your youth. Do me a favor and just shut up."
"Because those eight years make all the difference," Boyd said sarcastically.
"Obviously they do," Sin retorted, voice dripping with disdain.
"Name me one fucking way how," Boyd said, irritation starting to make its way through the coldness. He turned another corner a little too quickly and looked over at Sin challengingly and said scornfully, "You don't even know how to drive."
"If you really think I would be completely at a loss if left alone with a vehicle, you are naive," Sin replied. "But the amusing part of your little diatribe is that you think I was referring to your driving, when really I was talking about the childish way you speak to me despite the fact that you claim you don't want to hear my comments. Are you just that desperate for attention?"
Boyd looked over at him with an unreadable expression, though judging by the way his hands gripped the wheel he seemed irritated. "Fuck you," he said coldly after a long moment.
Sin scoffed and said nothing more, deciding that it was probably for the best. He glared out the window and waited for them to reach their destination, somewhat irritated that he hadn't even been told what their destination was. More than anything he just wanted to finish whatever they were supposed to do and go back to his cold, dark apartment so that he could sit in the corner and hate everybody in seclusion.
The drive lasted another slow ten minutes in which neither of them spoke and the silence only grew. By the time Boyd pulled into a small opening in a forest, the tension was almost palpable, though Boyd seemed to have reined in some of his earlier irritation. He seemed to be making an effort to be professional again, though his shoulders remained tense. "Don't make too much noise," he said before he grabbed the bag and left the car, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Irritation growing by the minute, Sin got out of the car and gave him a dark glare. Was this kid serious? "I'll try not to fuck up too much," He said sarcastically.
Boyd seemed unimpressed and only looked at him evenly. "We generally both seek to achieve that goal, yes," he said coolly. Hitching the bag over his shoulder, he gestured silently for Sin to follow him and headed into the woods.
Sin swallowed the retort that had been on the tip of his tongue and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around the woods quietly. "So what's this little plan of yours?"
"They have microphones that seem to be triggered to react to suspicious sounds, and there are cameras that follow the motion," Boyd said softly, moving quietly along the trail. "We need to evade those first. The guards change shifts about," he checked his watch briefly, "twenty minutes from now. The hideout is an old tourist attraction site; they are actually spread across four buildings, one story each. The core of the group is located in the building to the far north, but I don't know if the leader actually stays there or if she is in one of the other buildings. I suspect she's in the western compound instead. She can't be in either of the other two because the eastern is a storage facility currently filled with assorted terroristic paraphernalia. Arms, funds, supplies; the usual. The southern is the bunker for all the rookies and lower ranked soldiers, though some of them appear to have spilled over into the western as well. The eastern and northern compounds are the most heavily guarded, but the cell still appears to be massively recruiting. We've caught them at a time in that most of the patrols I have witnessed are still sloppy. At the moment they are relying more on their technology to protect and alert them while they attempt to give themselves time to train their recruits better."
He paused and glanced at Sin. "I will search the western compound while you search the northern and whoever finds the target first will alert the other with these." He handed over what looked like a very simple wristwatch, only instead of a watch face it had a small black screen with a little button above it. "If you press the button, the other person has a very limited ability to track you through GPS. Basically, a little light will flash red, and turn green as you get closer. The lines that will appear on the screen represent grid points on the maps and a compass is built in if you just press the button twice in quick succession to change screens. If you hit it three times, a fake digital watch screen appears so the watch will not seem suspicious in case anyone comes to investigate you. I got these especially for this assignment as it is important we get to her silently and quickly."
Despite the fact that he was mildly impressed by Boyd's strategic skills and creativity and the fact that he once again thought that Boyd's help would have made his solo mission a lot faster and easier, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He was annoyed that he was thinking about Boyd in flattering terms at all. Especially when the kid continued to treat him like he was a fucking idiot. Did he really think Sin needed his tips on stealth? "How... cute," He drawled, tone obviously mocking.
Boyd looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What is so cute about GPS trackers? Would you prefer we play a rousing round of Marco Polo to find the other when she's discovered?"
If he hadn't been in such a terrible mood, he was sure that he'd have found the comment funny. "I was talking about you," He replied idly.
Boyd actually stopped walking and looked at Sin fully. "What are you talking about," he said, the edge returning and making it more a statement than a question.
Sin shrugged, a smirk playing on his full lips. "It's mildly endearing how needy you can be."
Eyes narrowing further, Boyd remained utterly still and just stared at Sin. He seemed a little angry, but there was something else in his posture that was hard to place. "Needy?" he said finally, the edge sharpening. "What the hell do you mean?"
Sin shrugged, keeping eye contact and leaving the mocking smile plastered across his face. "You are always in need of some kind of help. You can't even handle this woman on your own. And if not, you're using one of your... tricks... to get you by." He raised an eyebrow and his smile changed from mocking to straight up cruel, making sure the implication of the word 'trick' was not lost on Boyd; he was specifically referring to Thierry.
Boyd's eyes narrowed and his back snapped straight; the anger seemed to grow a little, but it was the unnamable emotion that quickly eclipsed it. "You--" he started to say with that unreadable emotion causing an undercurrent, but he cut himself off as if he could not even properly form a response. He stared at Sin instead for a full breath, not quite searching his face but watching him intently anyway. Whatever he saw, or didn't see, in Sin's face caused his own expression to harden and completely close off. "Maybe you'll get all your fucking wishes at once, Sin," he finally hissed softly. He turned abruptly and, without saying anything more, strode in the same direction they were headed before. Reaching into the bag at his side, he pulled something out but kept it hidden in front of him.
Sin made a face and followed Boyd. "Which building do you want me to go to?" He asked, tone more than a little annoyed.
"Do whatever the hell you want," Boyd said uncaringly. He walked straight toward the perimeter, dropping the bag down into one hand and suddenly throwing it violently to the side. The whirring of cameras followed the bag's movement when it crashed into a tree and Boyd walked straight into the open without bothering to protect himself at all. He kept his hand at his side, but in the failing light of the day the faintest glint could be seen off a gun he held.
"Oh, what the fuck," Sin muttered and stared at Boyd incredulously before following him. "What are you, stupid?" He demanded softly, irritation heightening. First he'd treated him like a moron and now he wasn't even following his own plan. He felt fed up with Boyd and had a strong desire to leave him there, but he knew that would never happen.
"Oh, you're just never happy," Boyd said, coldly mocking as he walked straight toward the front compound. A flurry of snow drifted from the sky, twirling around him as he turned cold eyes back to the building.
Alerted by the cameras, six people came out only to be confronted by two intruders striding toward the front door. They looked startled but it didn't take them long to fall back into a formation, guns aimed at them. "Stop immediately or we'll shoot!" one of the men yelled as a warning.
Boyd looked at the man sidelong but did not stop. "I'm here to negotiate," he told them loudly, and suddenly shot the man in the head without even bothering to wait for a reply.
The alarm Sin suddenly felt completely outweighed his annoyance but before he could even comprehend the fact that Boyd had just blown someone's brains out, just killed someone in cold blood, he was on autopilot. Five men were pointing guns at Boyd and that's all that really mattered to him at the moment. Especially considering the fact that Boyd was striding towards them recklessly, either not caring or not noticing that he was three seconds away from being pumped full of bullets.
In the brief second it took for the men to wrench their stupefied gazes from their fallen comrade and focus on Boyd once again, Sin was reacting automatically. Twin Rugers appeared in his hands between one blink and the next, and he took out the other five before they had a chance to fire a single shot.
The main door to the compound had shut behind the men when they ran out and as no one else appeared yet to attack them it was assumed they must have heard the gunshots and were preparing themselves inside. There could have been someone on the other side of the door with a gun aimed right at him but Boyd did not even stop to check. He simply kicked the door open and strode into the front hallway, barely bothering to dodge a bullet that skimmed past his arm. He did make a note of where the shooter was, and it happened to be in the direction he needed to go so Boyd headed toward him. He put only minimal effort into dodging anything aimed at him and it was solely the initial confusion of the moment and the fact no one had the chance yet to properly get to their stations that he was not overcome by a barrage of bullets immediately.
"Boyd, what the fuck are you doing?" Sin growled and ran after him. He burst into the compound and was nearly hit by two bullets at the same time as confused shouting echoed around him. Avoiding the fire was typically easy for him, but it became more difficult when he was also trying to save his idiot partner from getting himself killed. Boyd kept walking calmly down the hall ahead of him but Sin seemed the larger threat at the moment to the men who were just now running into the main room. They aimed their guns at him, yelling orders to each other and requesting backup. Sin barely glanced at the room and already knew exactly where everyone was; in one second he knew who would be the biggest threat but he dismissed it all in an attempt to run after Boyd. He sheathed one gun and tried to grab him but his hand missed by centimeters when Boyd moved to the side and the bullet he avoided nearly got Sin in the face.
Sin threw himself away quickly with a curse, but while Boyd kept walking ahead of him the men in the room finally got their act together to fire at them more accurately. He stopped trying to talk sense into Boyd and went fully into mission mode. Sin whipped out his second Ruger and turned his back to the wall, quickly eliminating one-third of the people in his perimeter with single shots to their heads. He had to keep moving to keep from being an easy target himself, but the entire situation was made more difficult because he had to also watch Boyd. When he glanced over and saw Boyd stumbling slightly and a man aiming a gun at him, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
Alternating between killing the people trying to kill Boyd and protecting himself from the fire behind them, Sin was caught at a standstill briefly. It took only seconds to kill the remaining people in the main room, but that was enough time for Boyd to get far enough ahead of him that he almost couldn't cover him anymore. Reloading his guns with spare magazines in the space of a second, Sin sprinted after Boyd, but he was not quite caught up to him before he passed a room filled with furniture and a set of stairs next to it. He shot two men nearest Boyd in quick succession and simultaneously took out a soldier to his left, then whipped his gun around and got a fourth man between the eyes even as he had to dodge a bullet shot at his back. Dropping and rolling to the ground, he shot three more people who were aiming at Boyd and avoided gunfire from two different directions before he pulled back suddenly into the shadows of a nearby doorway. He was barely out of breath but now that he was standing still he could feel two places on his body that bullets had grazed him despite everything he had been doing, though he ignored the pain. Pale green eyes scanned the perimeter ahead and he listened carefully. There was a pause in gunfire as his opponents tried to trace where he disappeared to; he quickly placed one man's hurried movements to reload at the top of the staircase and another's nervous panting behind a low receptionist desk in the room across the corridor.
His dark gaze zeroed in on the man at the staircase like a crosshair. He could hear the clicking of the magazine but before it could pop into place, Sin appeared in the hallway like the half-second flash of a phantom; gunshots echoed deafeningly in the hallway as he shot the man at the top of the stairs, got the man who popped up behind the desk and killed two men down the hallway behind him. He ran down the corridor toward Boyd again, ducking in and out of crossfire and the shadows. He was phenomenally quick; his reflexes were triggered almost before he had even identified the danger.
Far ahead of him, he could see Boyd still striding down the hall purposefully, though he seemed to be limping and spots of blood were spattering the floor behind him. Someone shot at Sin from behind before he could think anything about that, then another and another; the bullets barely missed him but he was unable to dodge one that grazed his right thigh. He jerked back into the shadows and killed four people in quick succession then continued to run. He saw someone jump out of a side room near Boyd and killed the man, then another who he could barely see peeking around a corner trying to get a good aim at the blond. Boyd raised his gun and shot one person far ahead of him but he got him in the shoulder, and even as Sin watched, the man raised his gun and aimed. Boyd did not seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't care, because he did not seem like he would bother to dodge. Sin shot at the man recklessly, noting that even a gun aimed at Boyd's head was not deterring his partner, and though Sin succeeded in killing the man, it was not before the man's gun went off. Either the man had bad aim or he had been more affected by his shoulder than he had thought; Boyd jerked back slightly but he appeared to have been hit in the torso rather than the head.
Sin was nearly caught up to him when a new hail of fire behind them forced him to turn around and quickly eliminated the rebels who foolishly stood in plain sight. A few of them had started to learn; they popped back and forth from the edge of the wall, hiding in the attempt to protect themselves. But when they aimed they still had to jerk their head out enough for eyesight, and Sin was incredibly fast and good at what he did. In the time the men jerked in and out, not even a full second for some of them, Sin incapacitated and killed them all. He realized he had to reload again, and he had to duck back into the shadows to give himself enough time.
It was only taking him brief moments but even that seemed like an eternity. Looking toward Boyd, he quickly assessed the situation. Although there was gunfire coming from ahead of him, most of the people up there looked to be rookies or new recruits who were hesitant to outright kill; instead, they seemed to be aiming for non-vitals. Even as Sin watched, Boyd's shoulder suddenly jerked back as he was shot, but he didn't seem to hesitate before he fired at the recruit's head. He missed a direct killing strike, instead blowing off part of the young man's ear and skull. The recruit screamed and fell to the ground, halfway into the hallway, and as Boyd passed he shot again, silencing him instantly.
Alarm lights started to flash as a warning, but Boyd jerked his hand up and shot a small box that was huddled against the ceiling near a major junction of hallways. The lights faltered and stopped, and Boyd headed toward the cross hallway without even bothering to look for enemies.
Sin didn't even notice the blood oozing down his own leg as he quickly took note of Boyd's wounds. It seemed as though he was shot in the thigh, a flesh wound most likely, and in the shoulder. It wasn't life threatening for now but he knew loss of blood would slow him soon and if he continued to behave like an idiot, he wouldn't last long.
Sin's boots pounded against the tiled floor and he fired quickly and efficiently, killing whoever got in his way and whoever so much as glanced toward Boyd. He was thankful for the lack of skill the recruits showed; it was the only thing saving their asses at the moment since they were completely surrounded and lacking the element of surprise. Even with all the people Sin had killed, there were more appearing by the second. The situation was rapidly becoming uncontrollable; there were too many men in the compound for him to hold off simultaneously, and too many angles from which they could strike. It was made even more difficult since he was trying to look out for Boyd and himself. If he was killed, there would be no one to watch Boyd's back. Given the way Boyd had been acting, how often he was probably saved only because Sin had managed to take someone out before they could get him, there was very little chance whatsoever that Boyd would survive. And as angry as he was with his partner, Sin wasn't going to let him die just yet. It bothered him that he had these feelings but at the same time it gave him a sense of purpose.
He ignored another bullet that grazed his cheek, firing automatically and watching as another teenage soldier fell to the floor. Gore and blood spattered the walls, the ceiling, covered the floor in pools that oozed larger by the second. Dead bodies were littered around like flies swatted from the air, and some of the recruits could be seen running away from the action. People screaming, a few crying, the deafening echo of gunfire and the background sound of people falling to the ground retching. Bullet holes dotted the walls, scattering drywall, insulation and paint flecks around them in a flurry like the snowfall outside.
Boyd continued walking in front of him, a dark figure in his closed black trench coat and black clothing, though his pale blond hair and skin stood out even more dramatically against it. A recruit appeared before him and Boyd shot him automatically, without even seeming to realize he had done anything. Even with the bullets flying everywhere, making it difficult to move without the danger of being hit, Boyd did not seem to notice. He was like the calm in the midst of the storm; as Sin ran to catch up to him again, Boyd tilted his head to one side idly and Sin was finally able to see his expression. It was utterly dead, as if he was so removed from the situation that there was not even a soul or consciousness housed in his body. It was a far cry from the anger he'd shown when he first walked into the perimeter, and was even more emotionless than the usual blank look he had. In that brief glance Sin saw of him, he could see that his brown eyes were absolutely void of anything that showed a sign of life.
Sin's ruthless and efficient shooting was all that was covering Boyd, who seemed almost in a daze amidst the chaos around him. As he approached a cross hallway he suddenly turned to the right, kicking a recruit out of the way who had just fallen to the ground after being shot. As he continued to stride down the halls he was hit a few times and nearly shot even more. Even when he jerked back, there was nothing in his body language or expression that showed pain. Sin couldn't tell if he was in shock or what was happening, but when another bullet got him in the leg but barely seemed to pierce the fabric of his clothing, he realized that some of the recruits were using guns with weaker firepower. Boyd's thick trench coat was probably saving him from those bullets, but the ones with better guns were still a danger. Sin continued to cover both of them with his own firepower, but he couldn't watch for everything. Someone shot at Boyd's back and even though he moved out of the way at the last minute, it was unclear whether it was coincidence or if he purposefully dodged. Sin killed the man who tried to kill Boyd, but in the meantime someone else must have gotten a shot at him. When he quickly turned toward his partner again there was a line of pale skin visible through a cut in his coat and shirt sleeve, and blood was already building slowly in the wound. He must have been grazed by another bullet but Boyd did not seem to notice or care; if he felt any pain at all he did not show it or slow.
Boyd's behavior was more than a little disturbing; not only was he killing men in cold blood, something Sin had never seen him do, but as he marched along the corridors to some unknown destination it seemed like he had a death wish. Sin didn't have the time to properly categorize all of the thoughts that were going through his head, all of the feelings that were bouncing around inside of his chest; all he could do was grit his teeth, try not to focus too hard on the anxiety that he felt, and try to force himself into his usual removed, mission mode.
The barrage of bullets stopped abruptly, the echoes still resounding around them of people crawling over their dead comrades and trying to drag them out of the way. It was unclear what caused the sudden ceasefire but Sin did not bother to think about it; he took that time to finally catch up to Boyd. He grabbed his arm roughly, yanking him backwards with an angry growl and ignoring the blood that smeared across his fingers. Boyd did not react; he was limp like a doll and simply let Sin do what he wished. He did not actually even look at him, did not even necessarily seem aware that it was Sin at his side. It seemed almost as if he would have let anyone yank him back right then; his gaze was moving slowly around, void of anything that gave away his thoughts in the least. Sin didn't say anything but he glared at him and tried to figure out what the hell he intended them to do now. Was this even the western compound where this woman supposedly was hanging out?
There was the sound of footsteps running down the corridor and he raised his gun, preparing to fire. He'd almost pulled the trigger when he caught sight of brown hair and a female figure charging towards them, a pistol in her hand. Either the woman was stupid, actually had interest in negotiating, or she had some ridiculous notion that she was going to kill Sin. Whatever the case, she did not pose an immediate threat, and despite her anger, she was probably the one that had called off the fire. "Some fucking negotiating, kid!" The woman yelled as she approached.
Boyd seemed to come to himself a little when he saw the woman approaching. "Alexis Denis," he murmured softly, a dazed and dead quality making his voice fall flat. He let her get close enough to be able to see her face clearly, then quickly, without even breaking eye contact, he raised the gun and shot her in the head in the same movement.
"You fucking moron," Sin hissed from between clenched teeth, his face a study of shock. He shook his head, not dwelling on it for the moment and dragged Boyd back the way they'd come, practically carrying him as he heard loud shouting from over his shoulder. The shouting increased in pitch, probably as they found their leader's body, and he could hear people running after them. He couldn't wrap his mind around what had just happened; couldn't comprehend the fact that not only had Boyd just pretty much murdered a woman in cold blood, a woman who held her weapon at her side in a distinct, non-threatening gesture, but he hadn't even attempted to complete any part of the mission.
Boyd let Sin pull him along, not bothering to resist at all; instead, he opted to look around calmly and watch for new enemies who may attack. When it sounded like enough people were getting closer, Boyd reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a small device with several little switches covered by plastic casing. Turning dead brown eyes on it, he pushed the plastic casing up and flipped a few of the switches. "Boom," he whispered so softly to himself it was almost inaudible.
Immediately, the compound shuddered as a huge explosion erupted to one side, followed closely by four others at varying lengths away. The people chasing them suddenly yelled in confusion, breaking apart to go search for the new attack. Although some still followed Sin and Boyd, their numbers were greatly reduced and they were hampered by the dust raining from the ceiling, coating them all. When Sin and Boyd burst out into the courtyard, they were met with thick black smoke, the heat of intense fires, and a sudden, even larger explosion nearly throwing everyone to the ground. The few rebels still running around lost sight of the two in the chaos, and the raining debris and amount of people running everywhere covered their tracks through the snow. A few soldiers looked over at them suddenly and started to shout but Sin noticed them immediately.
Sin shifted, released Boyd and spun around, feet sliding on the snowy ground as he did so. He raised one gun, whipped out the other and fired both simultaneously, not even reacting to yet another bullet nicking him as he neutralized the remaining threats in their general area. He slammed one gun back in his belt and grabbed Boyd again, not even waiting to see if he would follow on his own.
The confusion caused by the blasts gave them the cover necessary to get out of the compound pretty much unnoticed. The snow had begun to fall heavier, which was annoying since he would now have to worry about leaving tracks outside of where the chaos covered them, but he ignored it and sprinted towards the forest. It was difficult running uphill through the woods with slippery snow, but Sin managed to keep going; even if they got away before anyone in the compound saw where they were going it was only a matter of time before they noticed the tracks so he tried to waste no time. Boyd ran with him but it was a half-hearted attempt, and more than once he let his feet just slide before he bothered to pick them up again.
By the time they made it to the car, Boyd was reacting just enough to pull the keys out and unlock the doors, dropping into his seat and already turning on the engine before Sin even had a chance to get inside. He waited just long enough for Sin to shut the door behind him and then he was already pulling away, driving quickly in a different direction than they came. He said nothing about his behavior and his expression was emotionless once again.
Sin was silent for a long moment, his eyes narrowed and his body completely tense. Half of his face was covered in blood but he didn't even seem to notice. His mind was racing as he tried to understand what had just happened; most of all, as he tried to figure out if it had been what he said that had caused Boyd to snap like that. It was Boyd's complete disregard for his own life that alarmed him the most and Sin wanted to grab Boyd and shake him, forcing him to explain himself. Instead he stared out the window silently until he was sure that the concern was gone from his face, until the adrenaline had cooled down and the mix of emotions settled into confusion and mostly anger. "Well," he began, his voice a study of quiet rage. "If you want to kill yourself, do it in a more efficient way and stop being an attention whore." He looked over at Boyd, green eyes practically glowing in the darkness and then turned towards the window again, falling completely silent.
Boyd watched the road, his eyes narrowing only slightly at the comment. He did not reply at first, his expression remaining so closed off that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. His hands gripped the wheel a little tightly, however, and his skin was pale from the blood he was losing. Other than that, he did not seem to react to his wounds. He waited long enough to make a turn as he moved the car onto a street with some traffic. Their tire tracks blended in with everyone else's and in the dark, the blood splattered across both of them could not be seen by other drivers. "Understood," Boyd murmured finally, emotionlessly.
The response startled Sin and he glanced at Boyd again, but he didn't feel the need to say anything more and turned back to the window. He couldn't think straight at the moment and the last thing he wanted to do was say anything else that could make the situation worse than it already was.The rest of the ride passed in relative silence. They did not speak again that night, even when they returned to the Agency and went to get their wounds patched up. The medics knew them well enough to be aware of their quirks; with Sin they remained completely clinical and detached and with Boyd they simply cut away the parts of his shirt that covered his wound since they knew he would refuse to remove the clothing.
Neither of them made eye contact, but there was distinct tension between them. When they were bandaged and able to move, they parted ways without a word.
The debriefing was scheduled for early in the morning and Boyd was not looking forward to it. He was slow to get ready and slow as he took his third shower in twelve hours. He felt like he was falling apart, like everything was spiraling out of his control and his stomach churned every time he remembered the day before.
He didn't know what the hell he was thinking, what the hell was wrong with him.
Although he'd shot Jason Aarons from Sector 89 months ago, it somehow never quite occurred to him that he was dead. He knew he was; he stood there and watched the blood leak into a pool around him, saw the light fail in his eyes, but it didn't truly hit Boyd at the time. Maybe he was still too closed off emotionally to understand the gravity of the situation. Maybe he was just incredibly slow.
Regardless, it was not until he returned to his home last night that he finally understood what he had done. His hands had shaken as he remembered the spray of gore, blood and brains, the way his clothing was soaked in his blood and others, the way he shot the man who was kind enough to warn them, and the rookie who was trying not to kill him, and, worse, Alexis Denis, who held her gun at her side even after Boyd and Sin killed so many of her men.
It... affected him. He hadn't eaten anything in awhile; at the motel he couldn't be bothered to find food as he poured over the blueprints and tried to create the best plan to following their orders while minimizing the contact Sin and Boyd would have with each other. And after the mission, there was no way he could eat. He didn't even have jasmine tea that night; he had opted instead to huddle in the shower with the water running hot against his skin as he held his knees close to him and stared at nothing. Even as the water ran cold he did not do anything for a long time, just waited for his bones to freeze or maybe the temperature to seep into his heart and make it ice again. Everything was so much easier when he didn't care, when he didn't know Sin or Ryan, when he was alone.
Sin was what did it, why he made that ridiculous decision out of anger. This was why Boyd didn't want to feel anything, why he knew emotions were nothing but a weakness. Anger made him do stupid things, got him into worse trouble. But he couldn't help it, not after the last few weeks.
The past month was not one of his best.
What had started as idle joking rumors about Boyd's promiscuity and sexuality grew when he did not respond, as if everyone was just trying that much harder to get a reaction from him. Many seemed to be using this juicy rumor as an excuse to lash out at someone they felt they would have little to no consequences with. It was not that every single person in the Agency was suddenly cruel to him, but there were definitely a large number of people who took it upon themselves to mock him, and even more who didn't seem to care.
Weeks of people whispering behind his back and snickering when he drew near only intensified over time. Soon, if he asked for anything he received sneering comments like, "Yeah, and what'll you give me for it? Your body?" or "Sorry, I don't take dick for payment." Men watched him askance in the training room, as if the rumor that he was gay meant he would molest them all or get off on looking at them. The one time he tried training alone without Ryan ended when someone 'accidentally' let go of a staff they were twirling and it would have ran straight into Boyd's knees if he hadn't dodged at the last moment. The others in the room laughed and when Boyd picked the staff up and tried to bring it back to the man, they started talking openly about how they didn't want him touching anything of theirs that was phallic, who knew what he was thinking or where his hands had been. Once, he'd gone to the shower rooms just to pick up a towel and one of the men had thrown a bar of soap at him and growled, "Get the fuck outta here, fag."
It was difficult enough walking through the halls with that sort of harassment, but then others had taken to shoving him or running into him when he was in more secluded areas. They mostly seemed to be guards who knew Harry, friends who were pissed that Boyd had gotten him sent away with no pay for a month. One of them once pushed him so hard that he'd fallen into a door jamb with a crack that had echoed down the hallway, and as he pushed himself away from the wall the guard had only smirked at him and laughed before sauntering away. Boyd still had a bruise on his arm from that particular incident.
Another time he'd almost fallen down the stairs when he was pushed in one of the busier parts of the main complex. When he'd looked over his shoulder no one seemed to have been watching him although at that point he'd doubted it'd been an accident. Another time involved a guard shoving him forward as he'd reached for his messenger bag. He'd caught himself before completely falling face first, but as he was rising the guard mocked, "What's the matter, blondie? I would've thought you liked being on your knees."
By the end of the month most people began to keep their harassment to whispers but the guards obviously did not care and were not as discreet. A few of them started targeting him as he walked; their general plan seemed to include coming by in a group, saying vile and suggestive things before pushing him around a bit and leaving. That would have been fine but they'd ceased to keep the harassment to secluded areas after awhile. A few times it happened in a busy area, or within view of plenty of people and not one of whom bothered to speak up or stop them. They just watched and listened and seemed more interested in waiting for Boyd's reaction than defending him. The more people showed they didn't care, the crueler and more disgusting the remarks became.
Truthfully, it seemed that the incident with Thierry was exactly what everyone had needed to not only get out their frustration and disgust that Boyd had appeared so suddenly and had gotten such a high position right away, but more importantly to use Boyd as a scapegoat for everything they couldn't say or do to Vivienne and Sin. There was a lot of animosity for his mother, who many felt had no right having such weight with her words when she had never even served, when she was just a civilian from who knew where. Others had grudges because she had somehow been instrumental in demotions, transfers, maybe she had fired someone they knew, maybe she was just a bitch to them in the hall. And as for Sin, there would always be a mixture of fear and animosity toward him; no one understood him but everyone knew him, and just about everyone knew some terrible act he had done or supposedly committed. They were both untouchable, however. Vivienne could and would get them fired at the slightest hint of displeasure, and Sin could literally rip them apart. For many, they had never been able to lash out at the people who, whether perceived or truthfully, had ever made their lives at the Agency hell. For all that Ryan claimed Boyd had a fan club, they were curiously absent from helping him that month. No one would stand up for him, and with David absent, Luke unable to jeopardize himself and not present, Carhart never around, and Ryan unaware or not there, there was no one who probably in any way wanted to.
Boyd was easy to target for all the insecurities and anger that had built up, much of it for years prior to his arrival. Previously, he had been an agent of such high standing that no one dared to do anything out of line, but now... But now, it was as if he had fallen from grace and they were there to drag him down further. It must have been rather fulfilling for them to have someone to mock and harass after all that time. Added to that the fact that the topics were homosexuality, which not everyone accepted in the first place, and the idea of prostitution, which just made him a great joke to laugh about, there seemed to be no end to the number of people who found something derisive to say or do in his presence.
Each incident on its own was more immature than anything and normally Boyd would not have cared but the fact that it happened constantly, that every single time he walked into the Agency he was harassed in some manner and often multiple times, that he couldn't do the same things he had before these rumors without now being bothered... That even people who he thought had started to like him prior to all this now turned against him or simply did not care to defend him... That he heard his name attached to so many inappropriate, despicable, or downright cruel jokes or comments that it seemed no one remembered that there was really a person behind the one-liner... Mostly that it just didn't end, all of this combined until it was wearying, nearly overwhelming.
He was accustomed to being unnoticed, so having all of the attention suddenly focused solely on him was mildly alarming. People stared when he approached, stared when he was in their presence and stared when he left. He felt like he was the only one who was not in on a joke, the person everyone laughed and mocked the second he looked away. As time passed, he realized that it hurt, even though he tried to make it not, even though he thought it shouldn't. But... The Agency was in essence the only place he had started to feel he belonged; in its own way, it had become a second home. He still equated the Agency with every single person he cared about in any way right now, and now, the more he felt ostracized and accused, the harder it was to believe anyone, even those few people, truly cared about him in return. Every little snide comment built up until even when he was home alone the words buzzed around him.
He had tried to avoid the Agency at first but then when he had to come in for something it seemed the harassment was just worse, as if it had been strengthening in his absence. So he made it a point to come more often than he usually would, even though it was probably stupid, even though it likely just made things worse. But he truly had nowhere else to be; either he was home in the oppressive silence and darkness, or he was at the Agency's complex. He didn't know which was better, which was the lesser evil, but somehow he kept choosing the Agency anyway. Maybe he was just an idiot and didn't learn, or maybe he just kept hoping somehow people would stop caring and he could just go there in peace.
Ryan tried to catch up with him a few times outside of their training but Boyd just didn't want to see him; he didn't want to see Ryan's expression if the others said or did the things that they would when Boyd was alone. He didn't know why, but maybe it was that pity would have just made it all seem worse and the angrier Ryan was likely to become, the worse it would be -- because then they would just add Ryan's name to the rumors and Ryan didn't have the luxury of being able to leave the compound. What if, the way the frustration transferred from Vivienne and Sin to Boyd, any frustration with Boyd transferred to Ryan when Boyd wasn't around? There was no way Boyd could accept that. At the same time, being aware of the possibility made Boyd feel alienated and alone. Still, he couldn't help thinking that at the moment it was best if he wasn't connected to anyone so they couldn't get drawn in on the stupidity too.
Whatever the case, the Agency, which before was somewhere Boyd could visit and enjoy to some extent, now became the source of a lot of frustration and weariness that just wouldn't end.
What made it even worse was Sin. He was someone Boyd had been growing accustomed to, someone he was starting to like and realized he even would be intimate with for no reason other than because he was Sin, because he wanted to... Yet he was the same person who held him down, the same person who told everyone at the debriefing what he'd done, the same person who mocked him immediately when confronted then disappeared for a solo mission so the brunt of all the rumors and attention fell on Boyd. Sin created trouble for Boyd, but ever since the incident with Thierry it just seemed like Boyd could not get his respect again. Boyd was just doing his fucking job at the time, but that single mission was looming larger than ever on his resumé now; it was as if everything else he had ever done was dwarfed by one stupid night with a whimsical man.
Initially, Boyd had felt more indignant than anything that everyone was making such a big deal about it. But as time passed, as he was constantly surrounded by whispers and jokes, he could not help feeling responsible for this change of events. He was positive that Sin thought incredibly little of him by now, but he couldn't be entirely certain why. Regardless of what Ryan had thought, it didn't make sense. Even if Sin had started to trust and like Boyd, why would he go to such great lengths to be cruel to him now? He thought Thierry had to be the main source of the rift between them, and he had started to think over time that maybe part of the reason Sin was so angry was that he felt that not only was Boyd entirely too willing to do anything for the mission, but maybe he also thought Boyd had gone out of his way to screw Thierry in the first place. Maybe he thought that Boyd had volunteered rather than just agreed. And maybe he didn't, Boyd had no idea. All he knew was that now when Sin looked at him, he seemed utterly disgusted and disappointed, as if he could not comprehend why Boyd was even there.
Now, it was becoming more difficult to ignore all the whispers, all the theories. It was not exactly that Boyd felt guilty over the entire incident, but he was sure that Sin would think all of this was Boyd's fault, and regardless of what Ryan said, Boyd still felt that deep down Ryan probably thought the same thing. Whatever the case may be for their feeling of where the fault actually lay, Boyd was starting to agree. If it was such chaos over something that seemed like such an obvious answer at the time... Well, maybe Boyd was at fault. Maybe he was just that bad of an agent after all. Maybe everyone else in the entire compound would have been capable of alternatives to that mission that would have still gotten the information but at less of a personal cost. After all, not all field agents were gay or bisexual. He couldn't imagine there were many men working in the compound who would have been willing to sleep with Thierry regardless of the consequences. Soon, he started to second guess himself. Should he have tried harder to negotiate? Should he not have responded to the flirtations? Should he have remained objective and polite? Even if Boyd thought of it as a business transaction, no one else seemed to. Not even Thierry. Had Boyd done more damage by sleeping with the man, who to an extent actually seemed genuinely taken by him, judging by the note? Had Boyd unintentionally hurt Thierry and Sin in the same act, or was it disappointment he made them feel? That thought process continued, branched out in confusing ways and led him, when he was back home sitting in his empty house, to think far too much about it. And the more he thought, the less he believed in his own actions. Ryan was the only one who had seemed on his side at all, but he didn't say he thought none of this was Boyd's fault until Boyd had been about to leave. Did he say that just to keep him there? Or was it just that Ryan was too kind -- that he accepted Boyd's stupidity simply because he was that accepting of a person?
There were too many questions and not enough answers, and with it came too many confusing emotions. He was starting to doubt himself, his actions, his plans, his ability as an agent. He was starting to think he really was just incompetent, maybe he was doing this all wrong, maybe a lot of this was ultimately his fault. But at the same time he was angry with Sin. It was due to Sin's stupid slip up that he had to listen to all those whispers and comments all month, it was due to him that men threw things at him and guards shoved him into doorways, laughing if he looked like he was hurt. It was due to him that he couldn't go anywhere without people watching him closely, and it was due to him that Boyd felt any of this in the first place. If Sin had not existed, Boyd didn't think he would have pulled himself out of his lull. He could have continued in the haze and been fine, but Sin ripped him out of that fog then abandoned him the second Boyd did something he felt was even a little wrong.
And what the hell was Sin doing being on his high fucking horse? Boyd was human too, just like he always insisted Sin was. Why was it that one apparent mistake he made had to be his downfall? Why couldn't Sin have just said, "Don't do that again," and left it at that? Boyd had no idea that the mission with Thierry would destroy so much, yet he couldn't say he wouldn't do the same again. What was at stake was far more important than his single life, even if it had gotten totally fucked up by the incident. If Sin couldn't understand that, regardless of the stupid Agency and whatever his mysterious fucking answer for the goal was, there were still human lives and futures at stake and that when Boyd did that with Thierry it was not just for his own sense of accomplishment for a mission... Well. If Sin couldn't understand that, then fuck him. But even as he had thought that, he couldn't help acknowledging that... he didn't want to be removed from Sin like that. He had been enjoying that brief time when they were able to banter, when Sin would call him on his phone, when Boyd felt he had the ability to relax around him. Now he felt like he couldn't let his guard down; that Sin was worse than an enemy -- he was an ally who no longer respected him, but who Boyd still had respect for. That meant that what Sin thought, what Sin said, they had an incredible impact on Boyd because... it was stupid, he was an idiot, but he still cared about Sin's opinion. It could affect him, even if Sin seemed entirely unaffected by Boyd except to feel like he was worthless.
All these thoughts were in his mind when he had seen Sin in the doorway at the motel, but he tried to keep it locked away where it didn't matter. He tried to remain professional and do his job, but Sin's very presence was something that ate away at him. It would have been bad enough if Sin just remained silent, but his snide remarks and smirking glances cut deeply inside. It was like the culmination of everything he had to hear over the month, but now it was coming from the person who started it all. Sin had the audacity to make Boyd be the brunt of the office rumor mill, and the second they met again he started ridiculing him just like everyone else. It made it worse because Boyd felt angry with Sin, but on another level he was losing the ability to defend himself even in his own mind. So he let Sin's words dig in deep where the negativity spread like poison.
Boyd had still tried to complete the mission even then but his anger was growing, followed by a strange sense of pained betrayal. Somewhere, somehow, he had hoped Sin wouldn't do that to him. He hoped that he would be the one person who treated him like usual, even if it meant to ignore him completely. Some stupid part of him was wanting that mission to be the moment he had as a break from the shit he had been dealing with back at the compound. It really hurt that Sin said those things, even more because he knew Sin meant it. It hurt that Sin told him to just return to his house and die inside, that he seemed so cruelly amused by Boyd's very existence.
The worst part was when Sin basically said he was worthless on his own. That was always something that bothered Boyd a little, deep inside; was he useless without anything to help him? Was he so incompetent that he needed others to do the job for him? He told Ryan that his style was different than Sin's, that no one could be Sin, but there were still times he realized how easily Sin could complete missions and how Boyd had to struggle like a fucking bug under a magnifying glass to get away. His self-doubt that he had dealt with the Thierry mission correctly had spread throughout him until he started doubting every other mission, started going over what he had done and how he'd handled it and all the times he was hurt because he was too pathetic to get away in time, because he was not strong enough on his own to handle the situation. All month he had basically been hearing how incompetent and disgusting he was, and even if initially he had tried to ignore it, over time it had truly started to bother him. He'd started to avoid the Agency whenever he could just to get away from the words, but he couldn't avoid himself, couldn't avoid his fucking mind. And on that mission, he couldn't avoid Sin, and certainly couldn't avoid his opinion.
Boyd was the type of person who had no reason to believe in his existence on his own; for someone who honestly thought of his body as a sack of meat and bones and his soul and consciousness as questionable, it was impossible for him to care unless someone first thought it was worth it. On his own, he defaulted to thinking nothing of himself. It was only those who believed in him that gave him reason to think anything different; it was only his interaction with the world that reminded him he was alive. But who held the most sway over his susceptibility right now? Who could resurrect that distrust in himself faster than anyone else? Sin was at the top of the list for some ungodly reason that Boyd could nonetheless not deny. If there was one person who could have helped him sway toward ignoring the shit he had been hearing, it was Sin. Sin was the reason for so much of it happening but it was also for that reason alone that his acceptance could have relieved Boyd greatly from the burden of the issues that were pulling him down. But when Sin spoke... Hearing such succinct, cruel words from Sin made it all fall apart.
If Sin wanted him dead so much, if everyone was so disgusted with his very existence, if Boyd was so fucking pathetic that he couldn't do anything on his own - fine. He would do the mission Sin's way and if he died, then it didn't matter. Everyone would still be happy.
Anger had helped him into the building, gave him the detached fury to pull the trigger with the gun aimed at hesitant rookies, but as he was shot himself and blood sprayed around him from enemies, the emotion trembled and started to fall away. He must have gone into autopilot because the anger was not there to protect him by the time he killed Alexis, or when he flipped the detonator switches on the bombs he'd planted in the days before Sin's arrival. At least he knew the bombs likely did not kill anyone; at the time he placed them he was assuming they would be used only as cover to escape the compounds, so their goal was to do little more than blow chunks of earth and dust into the sky to create havoc. He even had one in the bag he'd been carrying so it took out several of the cameras and incinerated all the items he had inside, even if none of it could have been connected with them.
But at least the mission was over; at least it ended relatively quickly. That was what he thought at the time, but that night, alone in his home, reality crashed into him harder than he had felt in a long time. He killed people, he killed people, he ended their lives; it was a permanent action. He could have left orphans, widows, people crying over bloody dead bodies and oh God then he thought of Lou.
He hardly slept all night and every time he dreamed he saw the people he killed, saw himself hunched over their bodies as he screamed for them to live again. What started as a poor reaction to anger on his part, something he should not have felt in the first place because he had no true reason for it, became the needless destruction of so many lives. Boyd did not deserve anything good ever again after what he did. Sin was exactly right about what he said in the car. Kill himself more efficiently next time, don't be an attention whore, kill himself...
He'd found himself the night before huddled in the shower a second time without remembering going inside, and he was scrubbing his skin nearly raw with his fingers. There was a moment when he truly would have tried to do something if he had something sharp near him. But he didn't, and he couldn't be bothered to get out from under the scalding water, so he just sat there and shuddered and tried so desperately not to think.
The bandages were ruined and the blood from his recent wounds had stained the water flowing down the drain. He didn't bother fixing them until this morning, though, when he threw himself out of bed after having never actually slept as far as he could recall. He felt shaky and a little disoriented, but above all he was nauseated. He felt like he could never eat again, never breathe properly again, never do anything right again, and he wanted to ignore the debriefing and just spend the rest of his life in the house.
But then he thought of Sin's words: "Then go away. Go back to roaming around your empty house and counting the days until you die, or whatever the hell your problem is." He knew the Agency would not let him go so easily, even if he did just completely fuck up a mission. Boyd would be dragged back, and Sin would only ridicule him more for trying to escape into the house. He would be mocked and told he was useless again and again, when all he ever wanted was to be acknowledged, or have someone look at him in pride. That was unlikely to ever happen, though.
Boyd honestly did not know how much more ridicule he could handle before something else snapped, and he didn't want to know what manner of stupidity he would display then. If the last time cost so many people their lives, he could only hope the next time would take his.
He debated going to the debriefing late so he could spend the least amount of time necessary in anyone's presence, but after he screwed up so terribly he could not bring himself to also be tardy. So he arrived at the Agency, ashen with dark-rimmed eyes, arms loosely held protectively over his stomach in a new set of typical black clothing only this time he did not wear his coat. It was bloody, filled with scratches and bullet holes and he needed to bring it in to be fixed and reapplied with the Kevlar-like spray. Besides, he rather thought he deserved to freeze after all he had done.
Inside the building, he did his best to ignore the comments and looks as he passed. One would think the staff would grow tired after a few weeks, but they did not. He distinctly heard someone joke that he looked like he had a rough night, and he had to grit his teeth and close his eyes. Yes, he did, but not in the manner they were insinuating.
What would they say if they knew he spent the majority of it in the bathroom, vomiting, dry-heaving, crying, or dead-eyed beneath the spray of water? Would they only mock him more? He suspected they would. They would see the weakness inherent in him; they would know that he reacted that way only because he was too pathetic to do anything else. Everyone else was probably perfectly strong-willed, perfectly controlled, and they either would not have cared that they killed someone or they would have known a less pitiful way to deal with it.
His expression was utterly dead by the time he made it to the debriefing room, and he made his arms fall away from his stomach before he was within view so his body language would not make him seem weak. He stood tall and firm, as his mother had taught him to look strongest when he felt weakest, and he walked into the room and took his usual seat without really looking at anyone. Sin and Jeffrey were already there and the rest of them arrived shortly afterward.
Carhart sat at the head of the table, his hands folded in front of him as he stared at Boyd and Sin with a cold, angry expression on his normally pleasant face. His mouth was pressed into a hard line and he didn't say anything for a long moment. The others at the table were equally silent; Owen seemed more alert than usual and Jeff was giving Boyd strange, sidelong glances as Ryan's wide, alarmed eyes went from Sin to Boyd.
"You--" Carhart focused on Sin, voice quiet despite the obvious undertone of anger. He paused, closed his mouth and began again. "What did you do?"
Sin stared at him with a bland expression on his face and seemed in no hurry to defend himself or to say anything at all.
Carhart slammed a fist into the table and leaned forward. "What the fuck happened?"
"I did it," Boyd said emotionlessly from the side. His heart thundered at Carhart's anger but nothing showed on his expression. Although he could have remained silent, he felt he deserved every bit of anger directed at him for such a thoroughly destroyed mission.
Sin didn't look at him and remained silent, but everyone else's eyes turned to Boyd collectively. Ryan seemed to be in a state of shock; he was one of the few people who knew Boyd well enough to realize something was very wrong with his behavior.
Carhart's anger seemed to dwindle a bit and he looked over at Boyd with an expression that was mostly confusion and surprise. "Was negotiation out of the question?"
Boyd thought about that. He could say he didn't even bother to try, or that his version of negotiating in this instance involved shooting first and not even asking later. But he was already getting enough harassment from the last mission, and he could tell by everyone's eyes that they would not leave him alone if he told them the truth. They were the few people who still spoke to him in any way without making him feel completely disgusting, and he could not quite bring himself to jeopardize that. If all it took was a small lie to keep even that tiny amount of respect, then he would try it.
"I suppose that is one way to put it," he said finally, inclining his head slightly in agreement. It was 'out of the question,' truly, since at that time he was not capable of trying.
"This mission was extremely important," Carhart said, voice growing hot again. "Death was to be the absolute, last resort in this case. This woman could have provided valuable information to us about Janus, information about its leader and the core members. So this time you're going to give me more than some bullshit, half-assed answer. I want details, I want to know exactly went down and why. I have to answer to Connors after this. You aren't just working for me." Carhart's eyes flicked over to Sin and they narrowed, as though somehow he couldn't completely believe that none of it was his fault.
"We were completely surrounded," Sin said boredly. "Did you people really think they were going to let us carry the woman out without a fight?" Despite his words, despite the fact that he was in a sense covering for Boyd, the look on his face was anything but kind or generous. It was possible that he was just avoiding having to hear Carhart's bitching any longer.
"I'm not really surprised," Ryan spoke up suddenly, dragging his eyes away from Boyd. "They chose Alexis to represent their group in Canada because she was tough and because they trusted her to do anything necessary to ensure their success. It was very doubtful that she would have agreed and honestly, the compound was large and teeming with soldiers that came from the OR with her and new ones that she'd recruited. Those Canucks didn't waste time joining up with an anti-American group," he attempted to joke.
Carhart absorbed the comments but continued to stare at Boyd, waiting for him to speak, to say that this was the case.
Boyd could not look away from Carhart, and something in him quelled at the idea of lying. He had always followed his orders, he did what he had to with Thierry to make sure Carhart and the Agency would not be displeased, he did everything right except this time. Or at least, he had tried. He didn't even know anymore what was right, what was wrong, when he was doing a good job and when he was just deluding himself. He knew that if he tried to pass it off as this being his one chance to screw up then they would not take it lightly. He knew that if he told the truth, he would seriously be in trouble.
But if he did not lie, then Ryan and Sin would be implicated too. He didn't know if he cared what happened to him anymore, and he was still frustrated with Sin, but Ryan didn't deserve to get in trouble for trying to cover Boyd's idiocy. He didn't think what Ryan said was true; from what Boyd had learned of body language and the way people acted in other missions when they were agreeable, he truly did think she would have negotiated. The fact that she held the gun to her side after all Boyd and Sin did showed on its own that she was a reasonable person. But Boyd killed her anyway without even giving her a chance.
He was thankful that he had so many years of practice to keep his expression and gaze deadpan despite what was happening in his mind. Even with a lurching stomach he was able to say emotionlessly, "It was a difficult mission but in the end attempts to negotiate failed. As Sin said, we were surrounded. Amidst the chaos, the danger to our lives, and the fact that the plan fell completely through, I made a decision based on the circumstances and shot her."
Carhart was never a difficult man to please, probably because he constantly tried to see the best in people. He rubbed his forehead and seemed to deflate somewhat. He still seemed irritated, something in him not quite seeming to believe what he was hearing but for some reason, he didn't press the topic. The edge didn't leave his tone though. "What will become of the base in Canada? Will they send another representative?"
Ryan glanced at his laptop and chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit, as his eyes flicked over the information on the screen. "Honestly all is quiet on this end," He said apologetically. "My contact in the OR has been distant of late and frankly, I'm not sure how long I'll be able to get information out of them. However, there's been a lot of scrambling and contact between Toronto and different countries in OR over night. But until I hear back from my guys, I don't really know what's up. I have ears in Toronto as well, but they don't seem to know much more than what was reported on the news. I still can't really get over the fact that one of her rookies called the local cops in..."
Boyd didn't realize they'd called in the cops and he found himself going over every bit of the mission to make sure he had left no details that could link Americans to it. He would definitely be in a lot more trouble if any connection appeared.
Owen scratched his head and leaned against the table, only a little more alert than usual. "I doubt anything'll come from that, though. I had some Canadian cop-guy friends," he looked a little confused by his own wording but continued, "and it's not like they suck or anything but when it's shit like that, they usually don't find anything. There's enough controversy with the rebels in the first place that even if they investigate, they have to be all political and shit about what they say."
"Beyond that," Jeff spoke for the first time, flipping through some papers stacked in front of him, "the accounts the rebels gave were scattered and incoherent. It sounds as though they were all so startled by the events that they did not properly see anything. There are about," he counted silently, "five conflicting stories. They can't even seem to agree on whether a bomb exploded or an earthquake hit, though the earthquake theory is pretty stupid given that it's Toronto." He looked straight at Boyd with an expression that for once had nothing but professionalism in it. "Maybe they were just confused. Did they seem that way to you, Boyd?"
Boyd stared at him, and felt even worse knowing that it seemed everyone was covering for him. He was such an idiot. He screwed up, took lives, and now there were people willing to take the attention away from him. Why were they doing this? Why did they even care, especially Jeff? Maybe he was just misinterpreting it, but he could not remember the last time Jeff was actually truly helpful to him.
"Many of them certainly seemed like new recruits," Boyd said as soon as he could think well enough to reply.
Jeff nodded to himself and pushed the papers into a better pile, looking over at Carhart. "Honestly, they're probably too scared to do much other than figure out if they want to regroup right now."
Sin remained silent and Carhart crossed his arms over his jacket, dark eyebrows pushing together in annoyance. "Well Connors will be pissed," He said flatly. "If this explanation doesn't fly with him, expect some kind of repercussions." He looked at Sin for a long moment and then at Boyd. "If this goes wrong it will not only be bad because of the loss of Intel, but it will be a PR problem as well. Discretion should have been key." He shook his head, annoyance obvious in his expression. "Is there anything else on the table?"
Boyd knew the moment PR was mentioned that he would be hearing from his mother sometime soon. The prospect was not pleasing, and he dropped his gaze to the table but said nothing.
"Yes," Jeff said, sitting up straight. "I have decrypted a little more of the disc. However," and he held up a hand as if to forestall any early signs of celebration, "it's not connected enough yet. So far I have a lot of information that is not complete. Monterrey seems to be a large theme, and there appear to be details regarding security that needs to be created for some type of event. There is also a list of sectors and rebel groups from across the world, but none of it is completed enough to know what it's for. It doesn't have any addresses or names so it can't be a contact list." He paused. "Everything else is too incoherent at the moment to report yet. I'm still not positive it's all legit, but it seems more likely that it is. I won't be able to confirm this until I've had a chance to tackle the second file."
The tension in Carhart's shoulders seemed to visibly release and some of the frown lines on his forehead disappeared. The importance of the disc seemed to completely overshadow the disastrous mission and Carhart looked almost relieved that he'd have good news for the Marshal. He glanced at Boyd again, his expression less severe and nodded. "Excellent. Perhaps my ass won't be completely handed to me after all."
He stood up and uncrossed his arms from his chest. "But don't think this is over just yet. I'll be in touch. Dismissed."
Boyd relaxed slightly when Carhart left the room then pushed himself up immediately to leave. He noticed Sin give him a scathing look, and Ryan tried to catch his eye, but he refused to look at anyone. Before Ryan could catch him, he was gone.
Sin left the conference room soon after Boyd, walking quickly towards his apartment with a strong desire to get far away from everyone else. He retreated to his apartment, pacing the living room in agitation, too distracted to even properly exercise. He could barely figure out his own behavior so attempting to understand Boyd's seemed utterly impossible. It was rather difficult to figure out anyone else's emotions when he'd just discovered that he had any of his own.
So his tentative solution had been to ignore it all, to continue with his normal behavior and work with Boyd without unnecessary conversation; to avoid anything that could make the situation more complicated than it already was. He'd succeeded that morning at the debriefing, avoided saying anything out of the ordinary, anything that would cause a string of events that would once again set either of them off. He was almost positive that he would eventually put all of the events from the past three months out of his mind as long as Boyd no longer pulled insane stunts like the one from the night before.
But something still bothered him. It haunted him every time he thought he was firm in his resolve. He could not quite ignore the nagging concern. He couldn't forget the memory of Boyd killing callously; of the disregard for his own safety. It'd disturbed him all night; especially when he'd realized that Boyd had acted like him…
His silent reverie was interrupted by loud banging on his apartment door and Sin crossed the room in three long strides and looked out the peephole.
"Open the door, fucker!"
Sin raised an eyebrow and strongly debated ignoring Ryan before curiosity got the better of him. He swung the door open. "Yes?"
The anger on Ryan's face was obvious; his eyes were narrowed and his nostrils were slightly flared. He stormed into the room and shut the door behind him. He stood stiffly with his hands on his hips, glaring at Sin darkly. "You are such an asshole!"
"So I've been told." Sin crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the shorter man dully.
"First you fucking open your big, stupid mouth and tell the world what happened between Boyd and Thierry-"
Sin raised his other eyebrow at Ryan's language and hostility. Ryan typically showed a strange mixture of fear and fluster around him; the sudden anger and course language was almost amusing. He seemed very much like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
"And then you treat him like total shit and don't even care. Do you know because of you and stupid Jeff telling whoever the hell he told, everyone's been harassing Boyd?"
"Does this little tirade have a point?" Sin asked dryly, although his eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of harassment. He thought about all of the extra attention he'd been receiving lately, the way people stared and whispered more than usual.
"There's a reason why homosexuality has always been hush-hush in the military, smart guy, and this is exactly fucking why. I don't even think he can get through the door without some testosterone crazy, no neck jerk off popping off about him being a cocksucker or whatever the hell. And not to mention physical harassment-do you even know what your stupid comment caused or do you not even care?" Ryan's breath was coming fast, his normally pale face red.
"I was gone for a month, in case you didn't notice. Why would I know any of this?" Once again he felt the burning ache of guilt within him and despite the fact that he tried to ignore it, tried to justify himself, it wouldn't go away. He hadn't actually taken any of that into consideration; he'd been so focused on and disgusted by his own behavior at that debriefing that it'd never occurred to him that anyone would use the information against Boyd. So many things had happened in the past couple of months, so many confusing thoughts had went through his mind and his own failure at understanding his own feelings had caused him to say so many stupid things that he didn't understand why anyone would possibly think poorly of Boyd instead of him. He was the one who had acted unprofessionally at that debriefing because he was jealous and stupid, he was the one who'd made a personal attack because of personal problems he had with Boyd which were not supposed to exist in the first place. He felt so many things at the moment that it was hard to focus on a single one but guilt was definitely at the forefront. Still, part of him cringed at that knowledge, part of him still resented that he felt anything when it came to Boyd. Sin frowned at Ryan, green eyes darkening as his expression grew deadly.
Ryan paused in his outburst and hesitated for a moment, noticing the familiar look. He bit his lip and raked a hand through his already unruly hair. "I don't know what's wrong with you two, I don't know why you started treating each other like shit after you'd gotten along so well, but Hsin… all of this stuff has messed with his head a lot. He's been opening up a lot more to me lately and…" He trailed off, looking away.
Sin ignored the way the idea of Boyd opening up to Ryan irritated him and leaned towards Ryan impatiently. "And what?" He snapped.
"He just, he seems worse than he was when he first got here. He's all… he just thinks, like he's worthless now. That he has no purpose and… I don't know. I'm just scared. He looks so dead and empty now, it's like he's not even there anymore. And the mission last night-I-" He stopped and lowered his voice to a whisper, so that the cameras could not possibly pick up the words he spoke. "And I know whatever happened last night wasn't what we told Carhart. Alexis was a reasonable woman, she wouldn't have gotten herself killed like that. And the reports, I mean they're scattered, but it doesn't seem like he behaved in the typical way he does on assignments. It seemed like you guys just went in with guns blazing and today the look in his eyes, it was worse than ever." Ryan seemed on the verge of tears, his thin face drawn and frightened. "He's just like--- it's like he's dead inside."
Sin gazed at Ryan through half closed eyes, although what he really saw before him was the look on Boyd's face from the night before, the complete blankness as he walked directly into a blaze of gunfire. He tried to force it to go away but it wouldn't and the entire night flashed through his mind in a blur of flurrying images that swirled around in his mind like the snowflakes which had drifted through the air the night before. He didn't want to care. He didn't want to be concerned. He didn't want to fucking feel guilty that his words had caused people to use Boyd as a scapegoat for their own hatred for the people he was connected to and make him a target; that his cruel, pointless insults from the night before had caused something in Boyd to snap.
He didn't want to care. He didn't want to fucking care.
"Where is he?" Sin asked softly.
"You'll talk to him?" Ryan asked eagerly. "You promise? I've tried and whatever he needs, it's obvious he can't get it from me."
Sin looked away and clenched his jaw, indecision causing him to hesitate. His eyes narrowed, only slits of pale green showing through his long black eyelashes.
"Whatever you think Boyd did to you-whatever reason you stopped being his friend. It's not true. He worried about you, he… he wanted to understand you. He always believed in you and that's why, I think that's why… That's why he's hurting so badly now."
Sin closed his eyes briefly. "Where is he?"
"I don't know." Ryan shook his head hopelessly. "But his car is still in the parking lot."
Sin nodded silently, opening his eyes and looking down at Ryan with an expression that Ryan had never seen before. An expression that was full of emotion and at the same time, almost frightening in its intensity. "Thank you."
Before Ryan could say anything else, Sin was brushing past him and striding down the corridor.
---
Boyd did not even bother leaving the building as he knew his mother would be summoning him, so he was completely unsurprised to be alerted to go to her office immediately. Ann barely acknowledged Boyd when he arrived at the office, but the look she sent him was smug. He did not bother reacting to it. She buzzed Boyd into the main room and seemed to forget his existence the second he headed toward Vivienne's door. He had not seen his mother in person for about three years; not since she last called him to the same office for a meeting that brought up so many things he didn't want to think about. He could only imagine it would be the same now, but he could not ignore a summons from her.
Boyd never thought about disobeying her; she was his mother, and the only family he had, and the idea of disappointing her was still something that he felt a great aversion to even if he knew that she was rarely pleased with him. She forgot him for such long periods of time that maybe he was just desperate for the contact when she spoke to him; maybe it was simply not a possibility to ignore her because if he did that now, it may be a decade before he saw her again. He needed approval from people he looked up to; it was a weakness he knew he had, but he had a hard time ignoring nonetheless.
He knocked and waited for her acknowledgement before he opened the door. He had just entered the room, barely even had time to close the door behind him or see that his mother was not at her desk, when he felt a sudden stinging ache on one cheek. He blinked, stunned more from the act than the strength, and brought one slow hand up to his cheek as he looked over with widened eyes.
Vivienne stood to the side of the door, her entire attention focused on him for one of the few times in his life. Her eyes were like ice that had no bottom, absolutely frigid, and her posture was straight and tense with fury. She had rarely touched him before for any reason and it took Boyd a long moment to even realize that she'd just hit him.
"Mot--" he started to say, and she suddenly slapped him so hard on the other cheek that his head whipped to the side.
He stared at the wall, not daring to move, and she stood beside him with such fury that he could actually feel the tension lifting the hairs along his skin. His cheek hurt, but more than that he felt the pain in his heart; he could not remember the last time she showed a true emotion when looking at him, and here it happened with something negative. He was disappointing everyone, and frustrating himself in the process.
"You," she said with cold fury making her voice quake, watching him with such disgust that her expression twisted a little. She shook her head once, had to take a moment to calm herself enough to speak, and continued in a low hiss, "You are no my child of mine."
The words hit him harder than they should have. She was his only family yet she barely even knew he existed for long periods of time. Even in the aftermath of Lou's death, more than anything she was irritated with the fact that he got blood everywhere, and that she had to create a story to cover up the embarrassing fact that he attempted suicide. Yet now he managed to do something so terrible, so unforgivable, that she remembered he existed and actually looked furious about it. He alienated her so much that she actually wanted to disown him in words.
Boyd stared at her, his eyes a little wide, his expression hurt enough that he could not properly cover it with his usual blankness. She gritted her teeth and raised her hand to strike again. This time he automatically cowered back with one hand held up to fend her off, watching her with fear starting to bloom in eyes half-hidden by his hair. Vivienne sneered, one perfect lip rising above her perfectly white teeth, and she looked away from him as if he was not even worth the attention she was giving him.
"Mothe-" he tried again, and this time she lifted one hand in a gesture to make him stop talking. She did not look over at him, just turned to stare out the window with the anger making her hand shake just a little.
"Do not speak," she commanded with that same cold fury making her words tremble even as they remained crisp and ice-laden. "I need to imagine for a few moments that you do not exist or I cannot be responsible for my actions."
Boyd fell silent, his arms curling unconsciously in a protective gesture around his stomach as he dropped his gaze to the ground. His heart thundered and he felt off-balance and shaky. Even knowing that his mother was not always pleased with him did not prepare him to hear those words said directly to him.
After a long bout of tense silence she stepped away, heels clicking as she strode to the window and stopped, one hand held to her temple with her eyes falling shut. She looked pained, as if she had a headache, and took a deep breath before speaking.
"It is time to make something clear, though I would like to imagine you were intelligent enough to realize this before." Vivienne opened her eyes, ice blue appearing beneath long blonde lashes as she stared at him glacially. "As far as I am concerned, you are unwanted." Boyd's hands tightened just a little around his stomach but his expression closed off at the words, and only his eyes showed the pain that they caused. Worthless, unwanted, Sin and his mother and everyone, they wished he didn't exist...
Vivienne glanced away briefly with eyes narrowed in mild disgust.
"I never wanted you," she said in the sort of reasonable, curt tone generally used to explain simple facts of life, such as that this planet was called Earth and people were also known as humans. It made it worse than if she had said it coldly, as if it were that much more true. "The only reason you exist is due to your father's insistence and my infatuation with him. There have been many times in my life that I've questioned the fact I spent thirteen hours in labor only to have this... child appear, needy and incapable of anything on its own."
Boyd watched her, his already closed-off expression losing more life by the word. He did not move, did not so much as twitch, and she surveyed him like a bug beneath her feet. "In all truth, you have hardly improved in your capability and independence than when you were a screaming baby minutes from my womb. Did you know you even had to be slapped to know how to breathe? Does that not seem incompetent to you?"
Boyd did not answer at first, assuming it was a rhetorical question, but she stared at him pointedly until he murmured dully, "It does."
Watching him a moment longer, Vivienne seemed satisfied that he understood her point. She looked out the window but the impenetrable cold remained. "While I do appreciate your dedication to the cause, you still cannot seem to understand the concept of rumors and the damage they can do to a person's reputation. Do you know what I am referring to?"
Looking at the ground, Boyd took a moment to answer. His mother knew everything that happened in the complex; there was no reason to pretend. "Thierry Beauvais," he said finally, quietly. Was she going to start this too? How terrible he was to have done that, make jokes about his sexuality, in essence call him a prostitute..?
"Exactly," she said curtly, and tilted her body just enough to look at him. She considered him for a long moment, her thoughts completely masked. "You set a precedent at that mission that will never leave your record. Of course, we can't even say yet if you were good enough to get proper information. As I understand it, Jeffrey Styles is still in the process of deciphering it, correct?"
"Yes," Boyd said softly, head still tilted toward the floor. When she did not continue immediately, he looked up just enough to watch her peripherally through his hair.
She nodded to herself. "At this point we can assume that implies the information is genuine and it is taking so long because it is truly that difficult. If that is the case, you were good enough that time." She waited to continue, and soon the silence stretched long enough that Boyd finally looked up at her directly.
Watching him with nothing but coolness in her expression, there was no emotion in her voice other than the same icy disapproval he was so used to hearing. "I am furious with you for involving me in this. The only grace is that you finished the mission properly, something your partner does not seem capable of when it comes to Thierry. In that regard you did well enough, but next time you had damn well better be more discreet. And I certainly hope you improve your skills before you make this a common practice. I expect you to include the possibility into every negotiation scenario from this point on; that is not to say it should be your first choice, but that you always consider it when you are creating the best plan. You are not to fail any other missions so terribly again. You are to become very adept at what you do, and if that includes prostituting yourself to an entire bunker of rebels for information because that is your best option, you will do that. Do you understand me?"
Boyd stared at her. It figured that she would be one of the few people who thought it was appropriate behavior, but... she actually expected him to do it again in the future? "What?" he asked, a little startled, not certain he had heard that correctly.
She watched him with cold calculation. "Do not be stupid, child. I told you already that the precedent is set so don't give me that idiotic look; you did this entirely to yourself. However, now that you have shown what lengths you will go to for the mission, it will always be expected that you will be willing to do the same. If there are future missions that may require a similar transaction, do you understand who they will send in first?"
Eyes widening slightly, Boyd could not look away from her. He had never considered anything like that, and she seemed to tell that from his expression. She shook her head to herself in absolute disappointment but did not say anything at first. "Are you serious?" Boyd asked finally, stunned. "But I only..."
"I can't imagine whose genes gave you such a rampant sense of naïveté and lack of foresight," Vivienne said with cold irritation. "What do you think this organization does but send in the best person for the job? Why do you think that your creature of a partner has not been neutralized?" She waited just a beat, letting her words sink in without giving him a chance to respond other than stare in surprise. "As I told you, now your little résumé somewhere has a note that you will pleasure informants for loyalty. Did you truly not even consider that when you were so willing to... do whatever it is you did with that man?"
Boyd shook his head mutely and she brought one hand to her temples, her eyes sliding closed once more as if the headache increased.
"Listen closely," she said frankly after a moment, the coldness clearly showing that she thought him an idiot. "I am not berating your dedication to the cause, though I am your lack of discretion. You have already cost me so much that I just barely have it in me to deal with your absolute idiocy right now. Unfortunately, due to the situation, I have to. So. What I am saying is you must now follow through. Do not be surprised if another mission appears requiring you to do the same, though I highly doubt many come along. Most of the allies of this agency are not nearly as... superfluous as Beauvais.
"However, with this new talent in your repertoire," and the way she said it that made it seem insulting, "you had better become very good at what you do, because anything less than perfect success in future such endeavors will only become a humiliating renewal of rumors. There will still be gossip if you continue, but over time people will simply see you as the brunt of the jokes whereas if you refuse in the future, it will be worse. You will jeopardize your job, I will be held accountable for the fact that you are now apparently too good to do any dirty work, and it will only resurrect this debacle and the ridiculous rumors circulating at the moment. If you had been intelligent enough to avoid this issue in the first place we would not be having this conversation. But you remain as incompetent as you were at birth, and now I have to do damage control." She slid her eyes open and gave him an imperious, cold look that was echoed by her voice. "Do you understand me now?"
While for a few moments Boyd had been startled out of feeling daunted, now it was renewed in the face of the cold judgment she turned on him. "Yes," Boyd said softly.
Vivienne stared at him with narrowed eyes, and the moment stretched again. She almost seemed to look straight through him, examining his very soul and not being pleased with what she found. Her displeasure increased as the seconds passed until she shook her head minutely, her voice turning even colder. "No, child, I don't believe you do. What I am telling you is that I did not choose to have something like you attached to me by name and blood, but it is there. The deed is done and we must both live with it. You have proven yourself to be useful in the past, and there was even a period of time in which I heard nothing but acceptable news related to your name."
She walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. "However," and her voice was remote and icy again, "you have since disgraced me once again. This last mission. Would you care to explain your utter ineptitude?"
Meeting her eyes with a withdrawn gaze, he took a moment to respond. He knew this was coming up, but he could not quite bring himself to say nothing happened. She would know. Carhart probably would find out too, but if he believed anyone would be able to get the full story and call him on it, he thought his mother would. Even so, he still couldn't say anything that would get Ryan in trouble. "There was a... deviance from the plan," he said finally.
Vivienne watched him, her eyes narrowing further. She walked forward suddenly until she was just inside his personal space. Startled, he stepped back but she just followed, remaining uncomfortably close.
"No, child," she said softly, reaching up to place her hand against the cheek she slapped hardest earlier. He just managed to stop himself from flinching, but she seemed to know what he intended. Some emotion he could not name flashed through her eyes; perhaps satisfaction, or was it just acknowledgment of his reaction?
Holding his head between her hands, she looked straight into his eyes. "What happened was you failed." She tightened her hold and he automatically started to jerk away before he could stop himself. He should have felt good, knowing she was touching him, knowing she wasn't necessarily hurting him, but her hands were cold and not even clinical, not even angry; it was as though she was holding him still without feeling he even deemed an emotion attached. As if she were touching a chair or a pen; just a tool she used in her everyday life that did not warrant any special attention. It was that feeling more than anything that made him want to move away.
"Understand me clearly for one moment," she said softly, coolly, watching him emotionlessly. "Humans are only as strong as they are weak. The weak link in the chain, the small chink in the armor; these are what can be the undoing of even the most powerful of leaders."
Her grip tightened a little and Boyd lifted his hands to hover near her wrists, wanting to pull her away but unable to make himself touch her. She did not seem to react to his attempt, she just spoke with a voice that was growing steadily colder, softer, and more serious.
"I have dedicated my life to becoming respected in this organization; a difficult enough job as it is, but only exacerbated because I am a woman. It took me years to get where I am now, and I have done everything I can to ensure there is nothing that can bring about my downfall. But you..."
Her eyes narrowed. "You are my weakness. We are connected by blood despite what either of us may wish, and that is the problem. When you make mistakes, when you fail so abysmally, when you become the subject of demeaning and embarrassing rumors, who is it that must pay? I must, due to the unfortunate circumstances of having birthed you. When people laugh about your sexuality, it is an embarrassment to me. When they hear that you are sleeping with people for information, do you know what they ask? They wonder if you learned that from me, if that is how I got to the position I am in today. Do you understand how many disgusting insinuations there are about me already? Just because you," her hands tightened enough that it was painful and her eyes narrowed to slits, "are here. Because you are making mistakes. Because you can't even sleep with a man and remain silent about it. Do you really revel in your homosexuality that much? When you were with that disgusting little ruffian friend of yours you also had to flaunt it. I would have thought..." Her fingers hurt as she tightened her hold a little further and she shook her head to herself. "Perhaps it was foolish, but I would have thought that in such a setting as this you would have had the intelligence to stay quiet. Can you, anywhere in that brainless head of yours, possibly understand the damage you have caused?"
He put his fingers on her wrists, staring at her with slightly widened eyes, though his throat had closed up and he had no words to give her anyway. All he could do was shake his head as much as he could in the hold, though he wasn't sure if it was in answer to her question, or in some need to deny her words.
She stared at him with absolutely no mercy. "The damage is done and at least information was received. I can't say it was worth it ultimately because you have created an incredible amount of work for me. But you did not completely fail, and it is for that reason alone I can even stand to look at you right now. So. You had damn well better become very adept at your newfound skill so any future endeavors are always a success. You will also tell everyone that it is your own degraded values that provided your mind with that option. I want nothing to do with your promiscuity in the rumors, do you understand me? I have already suffered enough for no reason at all. It is not my fault you grew up a homosexual, and equally not my fault that you so easily sleep with any male who for whatever godforsaken reason seems interested in you, and especially not that in such cases you apparently cannot keep the knowledge to yourself."
Boyd tried to shake his head, his eyes shining a little at her words. He wanted to let it all go past him but he couldn't; she was so close to him, so intense, and it felt like everything she said cut too deeply. There were too many thoughts passing through his mind, but he couldn't help responding anyway.
"I'm not..." Boyd said softly, trying to pull back.
"The situation was grave enough with all your previous blunders," Vivienne continued as if he did not speak, her grip not letting him get away. "Then came the rumors that my son was in some sort of sexual relationship with that creature from fourth," and a small trace of incredulity and disgust made it into her tone, "to which I did not know how to reply. To think that someone with a link to my blood would be so depraved as to willingly let such a creature violate his body? Do you truly have so little love for the memory of your father that you would desecrate the reputation of his last name so completely?" Boyd's eyes widened and her tone and expression turned calculating. "Or are you using your body as a means to control Sin? Does he get rewarded for obedience during a mission by spending the night with you?"
"No," Boyd breathed, pulling at her hands again. He felt sick that his own mother said that of him, that anyone could think he treated Sin like an animal or slave and then turned around and slept with him. Using his body as a reward system with someone she saw as subhuman, could she honestly believe he would do that or have that mindset? "Nothing happened with us. Mother, your hands..."
She looked down at her fingers splayed along his temples and released him as suddenly as if burned. Boyd put his hands to his head briefly, comforting his temples, and stared at her.
They watched each other for a moment, two expressionless faces with one pair of remote eyes, and one hurt and confused. Stepping back, the coolness returned to Vivienne's posture and expression. She considered him for a very long moment in which he felt his heart rate increase. The longer she watched him, the more it felt she could see inside him. Everything wrong with him, everything he was ashamed of, it was there for her eyes to dissect and dismiss. He felt confused and vaguely nauseated by her words and what she thought of him.
He knew she could not understand what was happening with Sin and him; he didn't even know himself, not that it mattered anymore. But maybe he thought his mother of all people would understand what happened with Thierry. It was a case of putting the job above all else, something she had done all his life. While she did seem to understand to an extent, at the same time she seemed to be saying he failed at that as well.
Once again, something Boyd did to not disappoint ended up doing nothing but that. She was angry that he slept with Thierry for information and the rumors were related to her, and yet now she wanted him to do that sort of thing more? And what she thought of Boyd as a person made him feel a little sick. She suspected that he slept with Sin just to control him? Somehow, when she thought sleeping with Sin could be a control issue she did not sound as disgusted as she did at the idea of him willingly sleeping with him on a more equal level. Was the infatuation he had with Sin so abhorrent? Would it truly be so terrible to feel anything for him?
The silence stretched, and Vivienne was the first to break it.
"Do you know how I learned of your most recent imbecility?" she asked coolly. Boyd did not answer, and she did not seem to expect one as she crossed her arms lightly beneath her breasts. "Connors called me on my private cell phone to say, and I quote, 'Your boy is fucking up; tell him to try fucking the person next time instead of killing them right off the bat. Or can't he get it up for women?'"
Vivienne let the words hang in the air, watching him closely. Boyd's expression barely changed, though his eyes did narrow just slightly. He was feeling so dragged down by everything that it was difficult to fully react to anything new she said. But even Connors believed that of him and expected him to do the same... Why was everyone so obsessed with that one mission, that single stupid choice?
Her eyes narrowed, though it was more calculating and cold than angry. "Do you see the reputation you have started and how your inability to follow through makes it back to me? What could possibly have possessed you to believe you were strong enough to walk straight into the compound so recklessly?" She saw his expression shift just a little and she gave him a pointed look. "I happen to do more research than Carhart ever will, and I am more adept at reading into media reports. I can tell right now enough of what truly happened to know that this was entirely your fault. What misfire of neurons led you to not even create a plan? You were there earlier than that creature; you should have had plenty of time."
When Boyd did not answer, her narrowed eyes widened just slightly and a knowing look crossed her face. "Ah," she said after a moment. "I see."
"What?" Boyd asked suspiciously when she did not continue.
"You were feeling childish again, no doubt," she told him, a bit of superiority in her tone. "Did you feel the need to repeat the drama from a few years ago? Are you truly so pathetic that suicidal tendencies are your only means of coping with anything that does not go your way?" She shook her head slightly. "I cannot believe your incompetence. If you want to die so badly, be more efficient about it. Your father would be disgusted by your shameful behavior."
Boyd actually felt the world go still at her words. He stared at her, shocked, and didn't know how to react. His heart nearly skipped a beat and his stomach twisted painfully; knowing Sin and his mother felt the same way about him hurt far more than he would have anticipated. Neither seemed to care if he died so much as they cared about the way it happened. Be more efficient. As if they were each telling him to die in a manner that was less inconvenient to them.
"And do not for a moment even consider repeating the drama," she continued coolly, not seeming to notice that he was especially affected by her words. "Do you realize the damage it will do to your father's name if you so stupidly attempt to commit suicide like that again? Such an undignified death. Honestly, Boyd, have a little understanding of the world before you run around feeling so melodramatic."
He could not look away from her, the world buzzing around him as her words sank deeply into his mind. Since the night before when he realized he so offhandedly killed innocent people, especially a woman who was willing to spare his life and negotiate after all he had done, he had felt like something inside him was twisted, like he had taken an irrevocable step down a path he would never leave. The more he obsessed about it and everything else he had ever done wrong, the less he liked himself. He felt like a failure as a human, like he had been trying to pretend he could pull himself out of the place he went in his mind after Lou's murder, like he could pretend he wasn't the mindless body he had become. But it hadn't even been a year since he shook himself out of that slumber and he was already stumbling, was already disappointing every single person around him and in general doing nothing right.
Feeling that way only intensified when he thought of the disgust in everyone's eyes when they looked at him, and the shock of his mother's hands touching him. He was already disgusted enough with himself, already well aware of how foolish and useless everyone thought he was. How could he be anything but that when the people he cared about or respected most thought so absolutely little of him? How had he become so deplorable that they thought there was not much in him worth salvaging?
Yet even with all that she was making it very difficult if he wanted to regain her respect in any way. It was impossible what she asked of him. As if she said, 'Be perfect but you are not even human, so when you mess up you will take full blame. Die but do not be shameful about it. Everything you do reflects on me and your father's memory. You can never possibly be anything but a disgrace. In fact, you never should have existed.'
Everything started to seem so overwhelming and hopeless. He felt worthless in the eyes of nearly everyone that mattered, with the only person on his side being Ryan. No one had use for Boyd, they were only disappointed and disgusted and apparently utterly tired of dealing with him. His was a pathetic, unimportant existence that may as well end itself before it brought about any more embarrassment. At the same time, he could do nothing to actively seek that end himself. He had already destroyed enough of his father's memory, and whatever his mother had to say about him, she was still the only family he had.
And most of the time she was right.
He was pathetic, he was incompetent and a disgrace to the blood that flowed through his veins. Could he blame her for telling him the truth? Yet that very truth could not be given a solution; he could not rectify his existence by removing it without doing something that would only make matters worse.
Boyd didn't want this anymore. He couldn't handle all these thoughts, all these emotions, all these contradictory orders. All he ever wanted to do was make those he cared about be proud of him, or at least acknowledge his existence. But he failed repeatedly. He was such a stupid, clumsy human being. He couldn't even make his own mother proud of him, and his partner seemed to think the world would be better off without him. He had to agree with them, but what the hell was his solution supposed to be?
As if sensing his thoughts, Vivienne looked somewhat satisfied as she inclined her head toward him. "I see you understand the current situation. At least I know you still have some modicum of intelligence within you."
"What should I do?" Boyd whispered before he even realized he was saying it.
Vivienne watched him for a long moment. "There has been a single point in your life when you were not an endless embarrassment to the family, and that was when I recommended you to the Agency. You were suitably logical, emotionless, and did not make a mockery of my blood ties. Return to that. What I see before me is an embarrassment. Do you really wish to waste oxygen on such an existence?"
Boyd felt the world go even stiller. He didn't want to mess up anymore; he needed someone to tell him he was alright, that what he was doing was fine, that it was okay if he existed and made the occasional mistake. And though he thought emotions like these were a weakness, some part of him rebelled at the idea of returning fully to nothingness, of giving everything up and becoming a doll once again. Although he liked the idea of not having to deal with anything again, it also hurt terribly to realize that this person he'd started to become, the person he thought he truly was inside, was so utterly unwanted that a soulless, empty body was preferable to it.
He did not even realize there were tears in his eyes until he blinked because it was too blurry. "I felt dead inside," he whispered mostly to himself, his tone a little helpless and pleading. The words slipped out before he could filter them, but it was true so he did not take them back.
"Exactly," Vivienne said with cool calmness, staring at him pointedly. She seemed wholly unaffected by the fact that he seemed so upset. "That is when you were most helpful to me. You do not wish to disappoint me, do you?"
"No," Boyd said softly after a moment, his throat closing up on him.
"This Agency accepts only the strong-willed. When you act as you have lately, you are anything but that. The only strength you have in your character is when you do not let anything ridiculous like emotions get in the way. You must learn to separate yourself from the situation if you are to have any control over it." She paused, her tone very serious. "I want you to realize that if you continue to fail so abominably, there will be consequences. I am being kind to you today by helping you understand the situation more clearly. But if you do this again, you will regret it. The Agency does not have time to deal with children and their incompetence. Be thankful I care enough about my reputation to sometimes protect yours."
The way she watched him silently led him to believe after a few long seconds that he was dismissed. He swallowed, feeling so utterly overwhelmed by everything that he could not focus on anything at the moment. He did know that his heartbeat was a stumbling staccato in his chest and he felt a little like the world was buzzing around him. Maybe he just really needed to eat something; he felt dizzy from all the thoughts racing in his head, and he was weary, exhausted, and incredibly sad. At the same time, he was upset and maybe some part of him was angry, he couldn't even tell.
He turned and reached for the door; he did not want to take the time to think through any of this in her office. He needed to get home where he could fall apart in privacy and silence. His fingers were turning the doorknob when Vivienne said with a hint of exasperation, "Boyd, wait."
He stopped, and some part of him erupted with hope that she had something to say, something that would validate his existence even a little. Shifting just enough to look over his shoulder, he waited for her to continue, holding his breath.
She watched him, her expression unreadable, then shook her head slightly to herself as she sat calmly at her desk. "Have you been listening to nothing I've said? You look utterly unpresentable right now. How embarrassing it would be to have you leaving my office with such dramatic tears; I can only imagine the new rumors that would erupt regarding what a poor mother I am." She sounded a little annoyed as she picked up a pen and looked down at some files on her desk, starting to fill them out with crisp, neat handwriting. "Stay in here until you have this drama under control, and only then shall you leave."
Fingers tightening on the doorknob, Boyd stayed very still as he stared at her. His heart rate increased again and he felt the emotions intensify within him to the point that it became difficult to breathe. He wanted her to care for him; he just wanted her to care. He wanted to not disappoint her, he wanted her to look at him with approval, he wanted her voice to soften. He wanted to be an existence worthy of the Beaulieu name. He wanted her to look at him like he was truly human and not something caught beneath her heels.
"Have you ever once been proud of me?" Boyd asked softly, forcing himself not to look away from her. His gaze was still a little blurry from the few tears that had managed to escape despite himself, but he could still see her clearly enough.
She continued to fill out the paperwork, her movements quick and concise. It took her a few seconds of rifling paper to respond, and even then she did not look up. "I cannot recall a single instance at the moment," she said absently.
Something shifted and cracked inside Boyd, and he turned back to the door. "I see," he said with no inflection, and reached up to wipe away the tearstains that remained on his cheeks. He took a moment to draw a breath and let it out quietly, slowly. His eyes were dry as he asked, "Do you...?" So many questions were rolled into those two words, sentences he could not bring himself to finish. Do you regret having me? Do you hate me? Do you think you ever once loved me? Do you think I'm anything like my father was? Do you really think he'd be disgusted with me? Do you wish I never existed? Do you truly wish I'd die..?
"Look at me," Vivienne commanded, and Boyd turned toward her unthinkingly. She watched him without any emotion save remoteness for a long moment, and he could only helplessly stare back at her. There was something almost desperate and lost in his eyes, like he was scrabbling for a handhold as he was pulled over a cliff, or desperately trying to release a parachute before he plummeted to the ground. The silence stretched until she finally looked back down at the papers and started filling them out again. "I don't have time for this ridiculousness," she said dismissively. "You are suitable to be seen in public." The unspoken command, "Leave my sight," hung in the air.
Boyd stared at her for a long moment before he turned back to the door and looked at the floor, his hair falling forward to cover his expression. "I understand," he said softly, and he did. He was only her child as long as he was not fucking up. He was only her blood when he was not an embarrassment. His existence was something that had to be convenient to her, or she would not acknowledge it. He knew he would not see her again until he screwed up so badly that she felt the need to tell him to his face, or he did something so phenomenal that it warranted applause. As he could foresee absolutely nothing he could do that would result in her approval, he knew the next time they met he would see only disgust in her eyes.
He left the room and could not be certain but he thought he heard her murmur, "Good,"