Surprise! I have arrived, wielding the second update of the week! Since these last two chapters have been on the shorter side, I've decided to update today instead of next Thursday. However, do not fret, you guys will get your usual Thursday update as well, I'm not going to break schedule.

That said, hope you enjoy!

-

This hug is nothing like your last one. It's tight, desperate and wanting. You almost don't let him go.

You pull back, just to sign, 'Don't you dare die on me.'

Tim chuckles, "Wouldn't dream of it. You guys be careful too, okay?"

The last you see of Tim is him disappearing into the back of a rented van, off to save the world.

-

You don't even have to reach over; the tape clicks on all on its own.

The Archives are silent, with only the sound of the air conditioning and the bites of noise that sneak into the underground from the real world above. The papers in your hand crinkle loudly, as you carefully place a pile of statements down onto the table in front of you.

You lift one off of the top: Case 0071304, Statement of Ivo Lensik.

It's with no small amount of delight that you edge the corner of the paper towards the open flame, watching with rapt attention as it catches fire. It flutters into the wastebasket like an errant ember, quickly eaten through with orange and heat.

The next one is Case 0020406, Statement of Harold Silvana. It joins it's brother in the basket, burning quiet and beautiful.

0140207, Dylan Anderson. Doesn't make a sound as it crumbles.

There is a sharp knock on the door of Jon's office. "(F/n). (F/n), open the door."

You reach for your phone, sitting just besides your plentiful pile of statements. Words are already typed on there, ready for when you turn on the text-to-speech function.

Sorry, Elias. I can't hear you through the door.

Elias sounds very serious indeed when he says, "(F/n). I do not have time for this."

Your expression sours. That's too bad, isn't it? Can't really predict when your employees are determined to be difficult.

"Unlock the door. Now."

Don't you have a key Elias? You should use that, I'm kind of busy.

"(F/n)."

I'm right here Elias. I would hurry, if I were you. Can't imagine Sylvia Baldwin wrote her statement to be used as kindling.

He knocks one last time before his footsteps fade away, presumably off to get that key. You reach for the next statement on the pile.

Of course, you always knew that your fun was never meant to last very long. Ten minutes later the doorknob rattles, turns and the door is pushed open by a rather cross Elias.

You wave.

"What are you doing?"

That one was Benjamin Hatendi. You just missed his statement!

"What. Are. You. Doing." Elias grits out.

You shrug. A second later you feel that distinctively off-putting section of your throat opening up, like a bad cough clearing up. You smile bitterly. "What's wrong Jonah? Can't you just look inside my mind?" The statements in the basket crackle, very gently, "Were you... busy with something, perhaps?"

He looks absolutely thunderous, "Tell me what you're doing and why."

You shrug, "Oh, you know, thought I'd just drop of a few ides in the old suggestions box. Turns out that my suggestion is-" another statement, touched to the edge of the flame, "-fire!"

"And yet you haven't set the whole Archives alight," Oh he thinks he's so clever, with that joke, "So I assume this is- what's it called. A cry for attention."

"I was actually wondering, does it hurt?"

"No more that you're hurting yourself by acting out."

"Oh! So that's it then, isn't it?" You sit back in Jon's chair, refusing to shy away from Elias's burning gaze, "I'm just acting out, right? I mean- Daisy's something to be tied down and- and Tim's- what, a rogue element." You slam your hands down on the wood. The chair slides back with a harsh sound as you stand, glaring, "But (F/n), oh (F/n) is just acting out. They're just having a- a tantrum. I'll just call them into my office and force feed them a bunch of statements and they'll behave."

"And if you're trying to convince, me otherwise, then you are failing. If you are so eager for a session, then you could have come to my office later, but I am really very busy-"

And you just can't take it anymore.

"Fuck you!" Reach forward, grab the stupid lapels of his stupid coat and pull him forward with one hand. The other arm rears back and clocks him straight in his stupid bastard face.

Elias goes down like a ton of bricks.

"Fuck you and your stupid God! I didn't want to be a part of this! I never wanted to be a part of this but you-"

You're cut off, quite literally. There's just no air.

Your breath gets stuck in your mouth and goes no further. Your chest heaves, desperate and empty, as your hands reach up to grip your throat. Your eyes flicker down, where Elias glares at you venomously, "I really have been too lenient with you, haven't I?"

He leaves you struggling to inhale as he slowly collects himself, brushing off his coat and trousers with great care. You fall to your knees yourself, fingers scratching at your throat as your wind pipe remains firmly shut.

Elias's eyes are a deep gold as dispassionately gazes down at your fallen form, "You have many regrets, don't you (F/n)?"

(click)

MARTIN: (F/n)? (F/n), I-I think I found everything we need. This should be enough to- to [HE ENTERS THE OFFICE, ONLY TO SEE YOU COLLAPSED ON THE FLOOR.]

[MARTIN FALLS TO HIS KNEES BESIDE YOU] (F/n)?! Are- are you-

[YOU'RE COMPLETELY UNRESPONSIVE, SAVE FOR THE FACT THAT YOUR EYES ARE WIDE OPEN, STARING UNBLINKING AT THE CEILING. MARTIN CHECKS YOUR PULSE, RELEIVED TO SEE THAT ITS STILL THERE.]

I-I-I should- I should- um...

[SOUND OF MARTIN DIALING AN AMBULANCE]

-

Oop. You punched Elias, but at what cost?

Stay tuned for next time! (Hang in there everybody, we'll get to Tim eventually)

Come say hi on tumblr (I'm @tma-more-like-suffering), if you want to.

Signed

Your Captain, Lynda