─ Clay McLeod Chapman, Ghost Eaters

ii. #Case: 2015-M13-207

Transcript of Witness Interview with Doctor Stephanie Fray, Chemical Engineer at Sisyphus Labs

Gotham City Police Department
Case: 2015-M13-207
Witness Interview
Reporting Officer (RO): Detective Enzo Carney
Name of Witness: Doctor Stephanie Fray
Date: 2015/13/05

C: Hello, Dr. Fray. My name is Enzo Carney. Would you like a glass of water?

S: No. It's fine.

C: You don't mind if I record this interview, yes? For documentation purposes.

S: Yes, that's fine.

C: So describe to me how yesterday was. Was there anything out of the ordinary?

S: No, nothing odd. It was the same as every day. I got up at four. Was at the Lab by six. 

C: This was in the evening, right? You had the evening shift?

S: Yes, like most days. We had a project briefing. There was an upcoming internal inspection of the new DEF-90.

C: DEF-90?

S: We've been working on it for a while. It was soft-launched a few years back and the Chairman promised to work with the area hospitals to create a better database in developing it further.

C: Okay. What does it do, exactly?

S: It's a targeted drug delivery system. Very high-end and if developed properly very, very useful.

C: So there was a product test upcoming?

S: Yes. Soon ─ like in a day or two. So the day was quite busy, making last-minute adjustments. Checking if everything was up to par.

C: And the explosion happened around eleven at night ─ where were you then?

S: At the cafeteria, on the ground floor. I wasn't supposed to be. I was supposed to be working but ─ god. Thank god. The Chairman visited out of nowhere ─ they said he wanted to check the progress. Our team leader was showing him around when it happened.

C: And this happened on Level 28?

S: Yes, where the prototypes were.

C: You remember seeing anyone suspicious going in and out of the Level? The building?

S: No. Not really. Except for the sudden visit by the company's Chairman, nothing was out of the ordinary.

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Transcript of Second Witness Interview with Doctor Stephanie Fray, Chemical Engineer at Sisyphus Labs

Gotham City Justice Department
Case: 2015-M13-207
Witness Interview
Interviewer: ADA Andrew Warner
Name of Witness: Doctor Stephanie Fray
Date: 2015/17/05

A: From what I've learned Dr. Fray, the previous DEF models did not meet standards.

S: There's always a process of trial and error in medicine.

A: That's a nice way of putting that eight people died in the last year from human tests.

S: They volunteered to be tested. They signed contracts ─ nobody forced them.

A: No. Of course not. Why were you not at Level 28 showing the company Chairman around with your team?

S: I went to get coffee. Only our team leader was with him.

A: The visit was scheduled. In your testimony to the police, you said it was a surprise visit ─ but it wasn't.

S: What are you ─ I wasn't lying! We hadn't been informed. 

A: Okay. Coming back to DEF-90, the last batches had not passed the quality checks so what was wrong with them?

S: The trigger hadn't worked right. These carriers have to be timed exactly right and with a precise dose of medicine ─ there is no margin for human error.

A: Dr. Fray, I know this might sound insensitive but ─ fifteen people died in the explosion. Eight died from the testing of DEF-90, and that's not counting the previous three years that you've been working on it ─

S: What are you implying?

A: All I'm saying is, this is the right time to answer with a clear conscience. What happened that day? Who carried this out, do you have any idea?

S: No. No, I don't. We weren't working on biochemical weapons! We were looking for a way to improve medicine delivery for patients. This is not what I imagined would happen.

A: I can see that.

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JUNE, 2015

"Coffee?"

Andrew Warner tore his gaze away from the case files piled on his desk and met the eyes of the inquirer. He had been here the last 36 hours in the same clothes, having only had two meals and running solely on coffee and desperation. "What was it? Espresso? Americano?" Yvonne Tuinstra asked, her blue eyes taking in his roughed-up appearance. "Turns out it's harder to remember coffee orders than case numbers."

Andrew chuckled weakly. They had been working non-stop on the Sisyphus Lab's arson case, and slowly he was starting to lose his sanity.

"You know what you should do?" she continued, walking over and leaning against his desk. "Get some sleep."

"Not like I haven't tried," Andrew said. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable at the memories this case brought. This wasn't the first time Sisyphus Labs had been investigated. Something eerily similar had happened six years ago, too. Andrew had not known what the fire had stolen from him then. Today, he chased it. The fire, the unbearable heat of it ─ he clawed for the answers hidden in the blue of the flame. It was easy to get lost in the pile of ash left behind, but he persisted. He persisted because he had a reason. It was well known in the prosecutor's circle how important this case was to him. Babel, the word rang in his ears, tossed around in his head. He glanced at the photo frame on his desk, two little kids grinning all teeth. He remembered the first time he had brought them home. The older one had been barely seven, the younger only three. They had grown too fast. In his memory, fresh as wet paint, their mother's laugh and her dangling earrings lingered.

"I know you're stressed."

Andrew shot her a sharp look. "Oh, you do?"

Yvonne huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest. In her years as a lawyer, she had met many stubborn characters in this line of work. Their obnoxious sense of pride and sanctimonious personas always made her nauseous ─ like she wasn't the same sometimes, and yet. There was something so odd about Andrew Warner: getting to work in the Justice Department so young, making ADA; and still she hadn't met anyone else who wanted to quit this job as much as him.

"I know you've been after Babel for a while, Andy," Yvonne said, "but burning out isn't going to help."

Andrew sighed, running his finger along the mouth of his coffee cup. "It's been half a decade ─ I just feel like this is the closest we've been and ─ "

"You can do it. I know you, I know you can do this. But the case needs a sane person and ─ " she hesitated momentarily, glancing at the photograph on Andrew's table. "And so do your kids. Please sleep." Andrew gave her a defeated expression. "I'll schedule another interview with Doctor Fray, okay? Just take a breather."

A secret was a strange thing. Andrew watched Yvonne make her towards her desk. There was only one person in the world who knew why Andrew was so obsessed with finding what Babel Pharma was hiding. Only one person in the world; and he was also drowning in a different kind of grief. Andrew caught another glance at the picture on his desk; the loss of a child must hurt so much. It was hard to come by true friends in this line of work ─ everyone either wanted something out of you, or you ended up needing something from them. It was true, what they said: College friendships last a lifetime. He still remembered tumbling with Bruce on the football grounds of Yale, still remembered the taste of coffee from that small shop down that corner, still remembered running in the rain and being late for classes. He hoped Bruce was doing well. They both lived in the same city but some days Andrew could hardly bring himself to think of him. Whenever he did, all he remembered were secrets and betrayals and that pain. 

"You won't believe what I just heard," declared Kang Su-Jin as he entered the prosecutors' office, shrugging off his coat. Andrew frowned at him. He couldn't understand how Su-Jin managed to smile at times like these. His excitement was undefeated. It had been a little over six months since Su-Jin had joined their team as a paralegal. It was still a surprise to Andrew how the cases never seemed to dampen his spirits. Give him time, he thought to himself. This job changes everyone for the worse.

"Why do you want to tell us, then?" asked Yvonne from her desk, twirling the pen in her hand.

Su-Jin hissed, annoyed. "Guess who got assigned as the judge for the Sisyphus lawsuit trials?"

Yvonne rolled her eyes and went back to her work. Su-Jin frowned at her, his smile dropping before turning his attention to Andrew who sighed. "Who?" he asked, purely to entertain Su-Jin.

Su-Jin leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. "Judge Grell," he said, pulling half a smile, "I told you it'd be him."

"Well that's bad," quipped Yvonne.

Andrew nodded, "Yeah, Babel funded Grell's re-election campaign. They're money buddies." He rubbed his face in exhaustion. "Listen, let Cross' team handle the lawsuit. Just focus on the arson case, I feel like we've got something here."

"Boss, I don't mean to be pessimistic but all we've got can be ─ will be labeled as hearsay and speculation by their defense lawyer." Su-Jin shrugged. "If we want to win this case we need something substantial. I know you know this, too." His voice almost seemed pleading, begging Andrew not to rush into court on half a hope. "Remember back in March, when I got that anonymous mail?"

"About Babel's Chairman, yeah," nodded Yvonne, eyeing Su-Jin. "But the lead went cold, they didn't show the last time." Su-Jin's lips formed a thin smile, his dimples on display. Yvonne scoffed, eyes squinting, "They didn't, right?"

"Jin," Andrew sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "What have you done?"

Su-Jin raised his hands in surrender. "Nothing." He grinned, "Yet." Yvonne rolled her eyes at him. He was too enthusiastic for an interim paralegal ─ it annoyed her to the bone. "Look, he wanted to confirm that his identity would remain confidential," continued Su-Jin, "and that I wouldn't say anything to anyone. How else do you think your files had so many intimate details of such supposed transactions?" He gestured air quotes around supposed.

Andrew stood up and walked over to Su-Jin, who gulped and took a nervous step back. Andrew's expression was tensed, sharp eyebrows raised sternly. The lack of father figures had led to a few blunders in Su-jin's life, but seeing this expression on Andrew's face always scared the shit out of him. Made him feel like a little kid who'd broken the china vase. "Hey, Kang Su-Jin, why are you such a nuisance?"

"What?" Su-Jin almost whined. He gripped the back of the chair tightly to build up confidence. "I'm only trying to help!"

Andrew sighed. "Don't do anything reckless, okay?" He caught Su-jin's eyes with sincerity. For a moment, he saw his son, Roman, staring back at him. Roman must be at his dorms now, Andrew thought. He imagined him in a well-pressed suit, fixing his tie and hair in the mirror. Standing tall in a court. He blinked and found Su-jin looking back at him. Only 23 years old, his features still childish. An ache in his chest made him frown. "Do you know how many people have died because of Babel?"

Yvonne huffed. "Yeah, rookie. Don't try to fly too high. Daedalus won't be too happy."

Su-Jin chuckled. "Daedalus has to come back from the dead for that." He fixed his tie, fiddling with the knot. "Listen, I'll meet him tonight. The informant. See what I can find."

"Even if you do that," Yvonne said, "and get something ─ we don't have enough time to get the evidence approved for court." She glanced at the rings of coffee imprinted on her desk from the cup. "I can try and ask for a delay in the hearing but I don't think we'll get far with that."

Andrew nodded. Times like these made him wish he had studied something other than this. But this was the only thing he was good at. He looked at Su-Jin, a smile plastered over his features. He hadn't even hesitated in trying to help Andrew. Looking at Su-Jin always reminded him of his two boys, waiting at home. Sometimes it reminded him of their mother. He always missed her more in winter. 

You know what you do when you're worried your enemy might win the game? she had asked once, sitting on the bleachers in Yale, while Andrew and Bruce chugged down water after soccer practice. 

Practice harder? Andrew had suggested, breathing heavily. This was their last practice before tomorrow's match ─ he suddenly felt too nervous.

I might faint if we practice any harder, Bruce had said, gasping for air between the words. He dropped down next to her on the bleachers, using a towel the wipe his sweat.

She had chuckled. You should try to void the game, one way or another.

And how do you suppose we do that, Miss Gu? Bruce asked, stretching out and laying his head in her lap. She huffed, annoyed at having to move her book away from her lap. It's not like the other team can go missing the night before. He saw her grin then, like a shark. Her eyebrows sharp like razors.

Exactly. It's not like the canteen food can cause food poisoning, right? Never had Andrew heard anyone sound this innocent while suggesting bodily harm. 

"We can't postpone the trial or drop the case," said Yvonne. She had walked over to the two of them, standing in the middle of the room.

"Well, then," shrugged Andrew, "we'll do it during the trial." It had been too long chasing after Babel ─ he wasn't about to give up. Not like this. Even if he had to play dirty to get there.

"What do you think this is?" Yvonne made a face as if she wanted to laugh, but this wasn't the right time. "Ocean's Eleven? We have no power or means to do that."

Surely Andrew knew that as well as Yvonne. He ran his thumb back and forth across his bottom lip, a habit he never seemed to notice and Yvonne never bothered to point out. Catching Yvonne's gaze, he said, "We can make that happen in our own way. Miss Tuinstra, I just need you at your best at the hearing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Only villains can fight villains, Yvonne. Sometimes playing dirty is the only way to play the game." He grabbed his phone from the desk, dialing someone. "Su-Jin, meet the informant tonight. Don't get caught." He looked at both of them, a conviction in his eyes. "Leave the rest to me." His phone beeped, the line having been connected. He slid it to his ear. "Spencer, hey. I need a favor."

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NOVEMBER, 2015

Roman's phone was pressed between his ear and shoulder, digging painfully into his skin. He shifted the weight of the grocery bag from one hand to the other, quickly catching the phone in his grip again. Dick Grayson was on the other end, detailing another failing of his in the field of romantic entanglement. Roman listened patiently. Or well, he half listened ─ half focused on avoiding the large puddles of water that the melting snow had wrought. He took a large stride over one depression. "We talked about dragonflies. Dragonflies!" Dick went on frustratedly. "I told her some don't even live a week!"

"This was before or after you kissed her?" Roman asked.

Dick huffed on the other end. "Very funny, yes." The conversation stalled. Conversations with Dick always seemed to come to a lull every now and then. As if he needed a moment to breathe. Roman would have hung up if it had been anyone else. But he liked the quiet with Dick. He could hear him breathe and sip his coffee on the other end. Just his presence. Comfortable. He tucked his shoulders in the cold. Another puddle. "How's New York? The new place?"

"It's nice," Roman nodded, though no one was watching. His hair swept down to his eyebrows; he needed a haircut. "It's small, but it's nice. Wally's moving in after the holidays so ─ "

"It'll be crowded," Dick echoed his thoughts.

Roman pressed his lips. With Wally came Artemis and with them came a whole lot that Roman couldn't handle alone. People were hard for him to deal with. But then, it was Wally. There's no one else Roman would be uncomfortable for, if not for that sarcastic redhead. Roman couldn't remember the last time they had been apart. Once they had met, it was like looking in a mirror. A mirror that showed you what you were missing. Parts fit neatly, molded like a clay statue. Another puddle. A car passed by, headlights stabbing into Roman's eyes. He adjusted his glasses. "It's Wally. It'll be nice," he said finally. "It feels too empty now." His phone buzzed against his ear, then again. And again. He pulled it down and saw texts popping on his screen. The contact name: CASS. His eyebrows drew closer. He skimmed over the messages and quickly deduced from her spelling and capitalization errors that Cassandra was drunk. If he tried hard enough, he could decode a few words: diCk, girL, kiSsED, sed and so on. Roman sighed. He brought the phone back to his ear. "This Thanksgiving party," he said to Dick. "Was Cass there?"

"Cassie?" Dick asked. "Yeah. She came over to celebrate while I was leaving, so I asked her to tag along."

"And where is she now?"

"Passed out in the guest room as soon as we reached back. Why? Is something wrong?" Roman heard some rustling. Clinking of cutlery. He sighed. He had been sixteen when he first met Cassandra Pryor. It has been three years since, and he's hopelessly infatuated with her. Those artic blue eyes, golden-threaded hair. His brother joked that he might as well become a poet now. But it was impossible like most human things were impossible. He'd liked her first and she had liked Dick. It was inevitable. Everyone liked Dick. He was sensible, responsible, and handsome, too. Had a charming smile and a way with words that was incredibly disarming for those who didn't know him well. And Roman was, well Roman. Just plain old, bespectacled, emo-haired Roman. Another puddle. He failed to avoid it this time. The cuffs of his jeans soaked in dirty water stuck uncomfortably to his skin.

"No," Roman mumbled. "Nothing's wrong. I ─ " Sirens cut him off. The sharp sound was too close. He flinched. Phone pressed to his ear, he tore his gaze away from the road to look ahead. A heavy cloud covered the scene, the kind you see during forest fires. The smell caught him first ─ ash, choking the sky. Choking him. He coughed, his eyes starting to sting. "There's ─ " Water splashed on his clothes and he stumbled back as a fire truck thundered past him. "There's fire," he mumbled on the phone.

"What?" Dick asked. "Roman, I can't hear you. Did you say something?"

"Fire," he stared. A sparse population, not more than ten people, had gathered on the street. The residents of Anslow Lane, with their hands on their hearts stared down the cul de sac. Roman stumbled forward in a daze.  He could hear the slow flooding of conversation on the street but his eyes remained fixed at the end of the lane. A carnivorous leap of fire reached for the moon hidden behind clouds. Sparks danced on his spectacle glass, his eyes horrified behind them. "Excuse me," he said to the crowd, pushing through. His voice was heavy, barely audible. "Excuse me," he stumbled to the front and gasped. The flame was hot in his face, the color vibrant as an ocean sunset. It was orange and red, and a strange blue that leapt in between. Was it floating? Perhaps. Roman couldn't decipher. He couldn't understand anything. The dirty puddles in the ground mirrored the fire as if they were holding the flames in their arms, cradling it.

"Roman?" Dick's voice crackled through the phone. "Are you there? Xun? Gu Xun?" Roman heard nothing, only the shouts of the firefighters. 65 Anslow Lane was on fire. Flames demanded to consume everything to ashes under the starless black night, lit only by the blueing lights of the emergency vehicles. There was no pity from the fire, Roman fell to his knees. The puddle splashed. His father was inside. Roman had barely been gone a couple of hours ─ the grocery bag remained spilled at his side, ketchup bottle shattered.

Something like hands grabbed at him, pulling him to stand. His feet moved on their own as he hurried towards the hungry inferno. He could hear the crackling of fire now, the sparks flew closer, the heat uncomfortable. Something grabbed him, held him back.

"Sir, you can't go in there. Please stay back."

He pushed against the arms holding him back and kicked his legs against the ground. The firefighter was strong. Roman wasn't sure if it was a firefighter, but he remembered a yellow uniform. He choked on his gasps, unable to breathe, "My Dad ─ he's inside. He was ─ "

When he watched movies, he would always question those trying to run into burning buildings for their loved ones. Unpractical, he would say. Unstrategical. Practicality and strategy seemed to disappear now, at the sight of the leaping fire. He couldn't imagine his father inside, scared, hurting. He could never imagine his father scared ─ because why would he be ─ he was Roman's father. The strongest. Bravest. Unafraid. He was Andrew Warner. He couldn't die. A flash attracted Roman's attention, pulling his gaze towards the upper story window. He didn't think he had heard it but slowly caught his ears ringing. A blast, blowing out air and fire, hell, out the window. 

His knees weak, he fell. 

He thought he heard a scream ─ could have been him, could have been someone else. Ash was slowly descending, like impure snow, staining his skin and hands. Hours later, he will stand in a sterile white room, looking over a cloth-covered corpse being told that his father's body was too burned to be identified. They'll take DNA samples from him. His father's death will be labeled arson, like the case he was investigating before his demise. The new ADA will promise Roman that they will find out who did this. 

And the world will forget about his misery, leaving Roman still kneeling in front of the burning building, waiting for his father. Forever waiting.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

. gif: Gwilym Lee as ADA Andrew Warner

🐈‍⬛ Welcome to Chapter 2!! Dead hot dad alert!! Woop, woop!! Anyways, this was a flashback chapter spanning the years that are very important to the plot. I wanted to flesh out these characters more that will pop up as the story goes on and define their relationships with each other.

🐈‍⬛Here, Wally hasn't died yet and this is kind of the first trauma Roman witnesses in person (except for his mom leaving, but that's another story). So, it was a fundamental and pivotal moment in the development of Roman's powers.

🐈‍⬛idk what else to write here. these happenings do impact lucie's story as well and I'm trying to mirror some of the "black widow/winter solier" stuff here. anyways. figuring it out as I go. enjoy!!