selfie:

...

I sit on a pleather medical bed as per the unfamiliar Doctors instruction, silent and simmering with dislike. I don' get why they interrupted my dinner for an unscheduled health check. "I just don' understand, Doctor Abigail sees me. She's my practitioner, and my next appointment isn't for another week." I drawl, trying to get a better look at the screen on the wall, hoping it'll give me a hint as to why they've pulled me in early. 

"I know, Violet. Never mind that. How've you been, honey? It's so lovely to meet you," She smiles like we're gon' be best buddies. "I'm going to run you through a quick medical exam. Then you can get back to your dinner." 

I glare at the irritating bitch and her artificial features, bouncing my brows in petty disregard. "You don' got to check my blood pressure again, it's fine." I snap, and her smile flattens for a moment before she turns away.  

"Sweetheart, please don't make me call the soldiers back in. I just want to check your weight and run some bloods." She turns to the dispenser on the wall and pulls two blue gloves onto her skinny hands before she approaches me. "You've only just earned good-behaviour privileges, so I'd hate to be the person who flags you again." She chides.

"Don'-." She starts checking my glands before I can voice my objection, so I stick my chin in the air and grit my jaw.  

"So, how have things been since your rescue?" She asks sweetly, feeling at my throat. 

I wrinkle my nose, chin still in the air, "I dream about my mother dying in my hands a lot." I spit, "Or when your soldiers shot her." 

She stiffens, her pretty features flinching in a spurt of awkward horror before she recovers, retracting her hand. She starts pulling the gloves off and directs me to the scale beside her desk. I push myself off the bed, prickling with the urge to bully her into letting me go before I stomp myself onto the scale and look at the wall.  

Scorpius is arriving at dawn. If this doctor tries to snarl up my chances of escape, I'll do more than threaten her.

"Oh, you haven't gained enough weight," She sounds disappointed.  

"I'm a G.H.O.O.L," I remark, irritated. 

"I understand that Miss Warrendale, but your diet has become significantly more nutritious since your time in Lake Darling, so I would expect at least some weight gain. It would be better for the baby-." I look at her sharply and she chokes on her words, scared of the enraged flash in my eyes.  

"What?" Am I pregnant? How?

"The baby, to come." She clarifies with a tight and airy tone, so I fix her with another prickly look as I step myself off.  

She turns away, and we fall silent for one jarring moment. "What is this about?" I snap.

"I'm sorry?" 

"Why'd you pull me in early?" I turn on her but she pretends not to be intimidated and skitters to her desk where she retrieves a scanning pen.  

She smiles, "I just have to check up on how things are travelling with your partner. Mr Reid Myers?" 

I narrow my eyes, but then she opens her mouth to ask me to surrender to a blood test so I put my hand out for her to prick my finger, and she looks at it, surprised that I would be compliant without her asking. But I wan' go back to my room, I don' wan' waste time picking fights with this frog-looking bitch. 

She pricks the tip of my forefinger, letting a bead of blood pool before she presses the tip of the pen to it then approaches the screen on her wall, "So how are things?" 

"I told you."  

"I mean with Mr Myers. Have you been sexually active?" 

I kiss my lips, fed up, "What do you think?" Images of him flicker in my head but I make myself glare her in the eye so she won't call my bluff.  

"Disappointing. Take a seat, Violet." 

I just arch a brow, plonking my ass in the chair across from her desk as she sits in front of me, "I'm just going to perform a questionnaire to check your compatibility with him..." She collects a tablet and begins logging into a system. It strikes me that this could be the transfer process Doctor Abigail referenced. "Genetically you guys are a perfect match, however, genes don't take personalities into account." She adds with a smile. I watch as she pulls a form up but then she tips the screen out of my view. "Have you found him likable?" 

"Sure." I drawl. 

"Have you shut down any advances?" 

"He hasn't made any." My skin prickles in discomfort and she starts typing. 

She frowns, nodding, "Has Mr Myers ever mentioned anything about his time in Lake Darling?" 

Why would that matter? "No," I answer slowly, but my inflammatory tone earns a disapproving look. 

"Was he close to your family?" She inspects the device, pattering her fingers across the screen. She glances at the screen on the wall as it loads my blood sample. I can't decide if she looks like a frog or a toad. Sure has the chin of a toad.

"He, was friends with my brother." I try to limit the information I provide but after a moment, she looks up expectantly, waiting for more. When I don't deliver, she lowers the device and crosses her legs. 

"Miss Warrendale, I need you to be honest with me. I know he shared residence with your family for an extensive duration of time, and that he was close to your parents. Please, elaborate." She scolds, but I glimpse the title of her form.  

Application for Subject Re-Allocation 

I was right. My heart drops and I sit forward, opening my mouth but before I let myself slip up I swallow a mouthful of air and pretend to adjust my seat. "He lived with us when I was a kid. We didn't get along." 

"Why did your family take Reid in?" She lifts the device like she's worried I can see. 

"He had conflict at home." That's not the real reason. If my father pretended to give a shit about every kid in Lake Darling with a rough family life, he would've had a city to raise. 

She clears her throat, "When your brother, Tokyo, enlisted, why did Reid leave the Ghouls?" 

I still haven't found the courage to ask. "I didn't know him in the city." If she's trying to re-partner us then why is she asking about his history with the gangs? Will the re-allocation be effective tonight? 

"Miss Warrendale, if you could guess," She loses her patience, but it amuses me. She probably studied medicine to make her parents happy. I actually want Dr Abigail back. 

"He and my father fell out." I mutter, fed up.  

"What was the nature of their relationship?" 

"Reid was the youngest executive of trade we had, dad trained him on management of assets and operations. Saw his potential." I look at the screen on the wall, watching as it runs my blood test, pulling up random pages of information before it buffers through a set of data.  

"Potential?" She leads. 

"He has a head for business, an' he knows how to balance risk and reward better than most guys his age. In the city, men respected him enough to do as he said." I keep away from his real job description—like the violence and ethical concerns of being a drugs and weapon lord in a dying city.  

She smiles, "At all of eighteen years of age? He sounds formidable." 

My glare sharpens and I click my tongue, "But you know all that right?" How else would she have known his age? 

Flustered, she waves me off, "We take a general history of our patients, anyway, has he mentioned his understanding of life outside the walls?" 

She strikes me as the kind of person who has never seen life outside, "No." 

"Has he mentioned any gangs in Holders Bay?"  

This woman is working for Hito... or Wilkes. "No." 

"Has he discussed the reason for his dispute with Akimitsu?"  

He only told me that the dispute was managed amongst the high ranking Yakuza. Akimitsu didn't want the scandal to get out to the rest. "No." My confidence in him quivers. He hasn't told me any of that. 

"Has he mentioned any Manic tribes?" 

Hito relaxed when I mentioned the Voytek's, and Reid is his enemy... After a quiet moment of deliberation, I lie, hoping it will get me somewhere, "The Charter." They're a gang north of Old Wollongong. 

Her expression livens and she stops typing, looking at me, "Did he mention any deals between Craig and the Manics?" 

I open my mouth, gulping like a fish—"No. Just Akimitsu and the Voytek's." I try. She nods, satisfied by my answer like I've just verified myself as telling the truth... which confirms what I'd suspected. 

Scor taught me that it's easier to control an interrogation when you're in my seat, because the person asking the question forgets to hide their reactions to your answer. 

"That's good, Violet. But what about your father?" 

Unable to answer, I change the topic, "Look if you gon' re-partner us, don't." 

Her purple eyes flinch for a moment, "Unfortunately-." The screen behind her head pings, and we both look.  

"Oh your bloods," She mutters, placing the tablet down as she pushes her chair back and starts scrolling through the information on the wall. "This is good, Vi, these results indicate a much healthier environment for an embryo. You know if you..." I ignore her as I twist the tablet around silently and start scrolling through the form. I hit the tab function, scrolling through the background applications she had running—one screen catches my eye. 

It's a mug shot of Reid. He looks so hostile and cold that it's chillingly attractive. His features are smattered with scratches and bruises, and the smudged war paint around his eyes has run down his cheek from blood or sweat. His earrings and that damn chain make him look rich and dangerous. 

Subject M24SR777 - Reid Myers [TERMINATED]

I stiffen. The word DECEASED is watermarked across his picture.  

"Miss Warrendale!" She shouts and I drop it, but the stupid thing hits the edge of the desk and shatters. She crouches down to collect it urgently, going livid with outrage. 

The soldier barges in, "What happened?" He barks, concerned, but I shove myself out of the chair. 

"She dropped it, and I tried to help her pick it up but she thought I was gon' hit her," I tell the soldier, pretending to be scared. "Sir, I don' understand why I can't see my normal Doctor." 

The woman spins to look at me, outraged. 

"Millicent, you said she was your patient."

...

I trudge up the fire stairs to my room, phone hanging in my hand as I rush the distance. My heart thumps in my chest, and I grip the black device, but then it pings and a notification flashes across the glass. 

Partner Transfer Document– Miss V. Warrendale, your partnership with T. Blackler is due to commence at SIX AM (T 0600) WED 16/08 - a soldier will meet you... 

That's three hours after Scor is due to make the hit. I break into a sprint, flinging myself up the stairs before I arrive at my floor and kick the fire door open. The soldier down the hall lurches but I tear down the carpet. Have they taken Reid already? I haven't seen him since this morning, I-. I scan in, hands shaking, "Reid?" I ask. 

He pushes himself from the bed urgently, wearing a set of black trackies. The elastic band of his boxers moulds to his hips. His chain hangs around his neck and his tattoos rise and fall, "Vi where the fuck were you? I been-. What's wrong?" His hard features are twisted with concern. 

I open my mouth, too stricken to form the right words. I close it as I approach him with my phone outstretched. Do I tell him Scor is coming tonight? But just for me. "Some random doctor pulled me in for a medical review," I rush. 

Frowning, he takes it from me, his eyes darting across the screen. 

I stand in silence, sick to my stomach as the meaning finally translates across his face. "T. Blackler?" 

"Trent," I mutter, and hostility sparks across his face.  

"They rescheduled you a day early, it's the sixteenth. Why didn't I get a transfer doc...?" He trails off when he sees my face. 

"I stole the doctor's tablet, your profile came up..." I swallow for fear of any emotion seeping into my voice, "It, said you were terminated. There was a deceased watermark across your photo." 

"Terminated?" A mirage of emotions flicker across his face, but then he realises, "That's why my phone reset itself, I couldn't get into the hall... wait, wait," he sounds the closest to overwhelmed that he ever has, "you're scheduled to meet Trent in, what, five hours?" His features twist in discomfort, barely grappling with what I said. I watch his mind, skip, the denial of this ridiculous death order and swiftly move into attacking the possibilities as to why.

Reid runs his hands through his hair and laces his fingers behind his head, groaning lowly as he turns away. His chest rises, trying to breathe, his keen mind running every scenario, trying to discern who ordered the hit. "Jesus Christ. Akimitsu figured out... but he wouldn't be able to swing this on his own," just like that, he realises, his face dropping, betrayal staining his masculine features, "fuck!" He snaps in a burst of aggression. He sits down, balling his fist on his knee, "Fuck," This time his voice is hoarse and resolved like he knew it was coming. Like he knew he was living on spent money. He shuts his emotions down, fixing me with a cold expression that warns me away. 

"What?" I gape, approaching him but he splays his fingers and grimaces, "Reid, who wants you dead?" My tone comes out more accusing than I meant. "Did you expect this?"

He closes his eyes, inhaling slightly, as though it'll hone his erratic heart, before finally, he tips his chin up to face me. A reluctant glare crackles across his features.

"Did you?" My voice cracks. "What about Scorpius? Did you ever think that was... was even viable?"

"No one I know would pay sixty grand to get me out of here." He mutters, shaking his head and darting his hand out so he can pull me by the back of my thigh. His knee slips between my legs as he rests his forehead against my navel, drawing in a breath. 

"So, you assumed they'd kill you?" I whisper, trying to make heads or tails. 

"I fucked Akimitsu over a while ago. An' Craig benefited from it, then he took me back which makes me look like his man... no one knows where his loyalties are, and a lot of people want to hurt him." He sniffs, his voice bubbling with anger, "Fuck, all I know, it's always been him."

I stiffen. It's the most I've ever got out of him, but his explanation is still painfully cryptic. It could be my father? It's always been him? Has someone been making Reid's life hard?

I try to find something that invalidates his train of thought, but with the little that I know, and the expanse of contrary fact, I fail. My father has pulled several critical kills in his life, dropping men out of positions that may threaten him, cutting lose loyal Ghouls for the sake of his grand plan... 

I mean fuck, he was known during the Unfinished War as the 'Time Killer' because of his patience in the siege of Glasgow. Thousands of his men froze to death, but he made them do the time so that when the moment came, the opposition's forces gave out like a starving horse. 

It begs the question, what does Reid know that'd make him a potential jeopardy to my father? The thought hangs in the air. Reid flexes his fingers into the back of my leg slightly, nudging me before he rises. "I'm gon' shower," He grates, failing to disguise the bout of rage bubbling up inside of him.

I nod, but when he prowls into the bathroom, I get the nagging feeling I shouldn't leave him be. He swings the door but it doesn't latch, inching open gradually. From my narrow view, I watch him pace once, twice, before he starts twisting the basin tap. 

I cradle the lower portion of my face, grappling over what to do. A deep, guttural fear begins to carve itself into my gut, made worse by every nauseating second that ticks past.

Reid douses his face in water, cupping a handful to drink, though he doesn't rise from leaning on the basin. "It has to be Craig. He has contacts in here, has a fuckin' drug line running through the soldiers on Supply duty." He snaps, knowing I'm listening. "He's behind the extract, too. He knew who Scorpius Voytah was, remember? At the party? Who else is gon' drop sixty grand to get you out? Knew you well enough to know that you weren't gon' leave without Elias so told your boyfriend he could add a couple of names. Got to be Craig."

My jaw slackens and I approach him, "But how you know he has anything to do with the termination order?"

Reid grates out a noise, straightening up, "Akimitsu would've killed me already, and Craig wanted me to get some intel to Barra. But I didn't." He seethes out a noise, "he took it as hostile, took it as me screwing him over, makes me a threat to his operation because I could rat him out." He glowers at himself in the mirror. "I should've fuckin' listened. I should've," Reid belts his fist into the glass.

I dart forward, "Reid!" cracks web through the reflection, "Jesus, cunt, you're gon' blow a fuckin' knuckle!" I slip between the gap, grabbing his hand. 

He closes his eyes, letting me take a hold of him, before he slips his arm around me and gently pulls me to his chest. He rests his cheek against my hair, "I'm sorry." He mutters, his chest heaving as he tries to regulate himself. "I," He fights himself again, pulling back to look down at me. Bitter remorse swims in his gaze, "I just wan' get Bloom," he grates out, his voice weakening. My breath catches and I still under his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his expression cementing the dawning reality that I don' wan' face. They're actually going to kill him. We fall quiet for a long moment, "I didn't wan' no part of their fuckin' war and now I'm gon' die for it whilst my sister rots." 

I open my mouth, trying to find something I can say. "War?" For someone who pointed suspicion at me he's sure as hell got a lot of secrets. I squint, but he closes his eyes again, momentarily clenching his teeth before he pushes himself away. 

"Don' worry." He gestures, his broad shoulders pinched and stiff as he retreats. 

Anger strikes me, and before I know how to stop myself, I charge after him. "Don' you fuckin' dare-."

He laughs callously, "What?"

"Don' you fuckin' dare. You are gon' tell me everything-."

"What? Cause it makes no difference now that I'm tickets?" 

"No, because you been dog glaring me since the start, bitching that I'm some manic fucker who was lookin' to screw my own people over for a good root." I'm paraphrasing, "So yes. Fuck you, you're gon' level with me because you fuckin' owe me that at least." My voice cracks. 

"Owe you? Jesus, Vi, they just put a death hit out on me, surely you can gimme' a break." He arrives at the bedroom door but then he grunts, remembering we're way past curfew. He's locked in until they come. My heart grips. That could be any moment.

My pulse thumps in my ears, my stomach turning. Do I tell him that the hit is scheduled for three this morning? I open my mouth, grappling for words. An idea... a really bad idea occurs to me. 

Scor has been making a fuss about using the VINTAR technology to safely contact me, so now he's out of range. But, at the end of the day, he has a phone, and... I draw mine out of my pocket. If I use this to get to him, it'll flag in the army system. Their bots will catch the unapproved use of a penalized device in a filtering net, and they'll dispatch a set of guards, or, or worse, put this place on lockdown. 

But there's no telling how long it'll take them to approve the guard dispatch, let alone shutting Barden down. At this time of night, they'll have Private's manning the security system... privates who would need someone to sign off on a dispatch order. "What you doin'?" 

I turn around, selecting the icon for the old search engine which Sphynx remotely, and illegally, installed for me. When it opens, I type to cite key for CITE.K, meeting a login screen. I enter viper as I chew my lip. "Don' worry." I mutter, no longer interested. 

I walk toward the bathroom as I enter my pass: GH0uLz4LYF3.edit.$iKE 

Surprisingly he lets me type and as I retreat, I relax away from the threat of him trying to stop me. The white background of the login turns into a black forum, and the light illuminating my face dims, but that appears to be all he was waiting for. Reid lurches forward, grabbing my device and I cry out, trying to retrieve it.

He holds me back, his eyes darting across my whole CITE.K account. "Oi!" I snap, but he holds me back. The risk of him finding my job history sends me over the edge and I barrel at him, grasping my screen. We enter a tussle, but his strength prevails, and he jerks it from me, "You were gon' call him?!" I try to grab it, but he shoves my phone in his back pocket, angry and intolerant, "viper?!" He hisses.

...

VIPER?? oh-

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