Hanging out at the coffee shop, hoping she just so happened to see someone who looked like they quite literally knew everything, was probably the dumbest plan Sarah had ever decided to stick to.
But what other option did she have? Even Hugo hadn't been able to dig up more info, and she didn't have another hopeful lead. So she'd printed out the forum post Hugo had come across, murder request and all, ordered a coffee, and hunched in a corner, ears sharpened.
It was her fourth morning on this wild goose chase. If you could even call it a chase. Wild goose stakeout?
The first day she'd wasted nearly six hours listening to customers order their lattes. After that, she decided to limit herself to an hour a day, at random times. There was no indication how often the enigma known as Big Brother visited this shop, or when, so it really was just left up to blind luck.
But sometimes, blind luck was all you needed.
Today's random time was five in the morning, right when the place opened, and even a double shot of espresso couldn't fix how badly Sarah wished she'd stayed in bed.
It's important, she reminded herself. It's our best chance.
She could take a nap later.
She was zoning out, doodling on a napkin and listening to the background noise when she heard it.
“Black coffee for Bas?”
Bas. Sarah sat up straight, a sudden and unwelcome flush of anxiety coursing through her.
Fuck. This was it. She looked up just in time to see a man turn away from the counter, coffee in hand. He was a lanky guy, maybe in his late thirties, with flecks of gray in his brown hair and reading glasses clipped into his practical button-up shirt.
He definitely didn't look like a Neath criminal, much less the kind of guy who'd have a hit out on him. He looked like a college professor for something nerdy and slightly boring, like Greek literature or the history of pottery.
But if this was her chance, she wasn't gonna let it slip away.
He was quiet this morning. Not the usual Lex quiet either; brooding or just comfortable in silence. It was something focused, intense despite the lack of sound, and Sarah was pretty sure she knew what that meant.
“Hey. You okay?”
A nod, a little too jerky. She could hear his heart racing beneath layers of clenched muscle, see the sweat start to bead at his forehead, the faraway look in his eyes.
“Tylenol?” she asked.
“Took some already.”
After the first bout of phantom pains she'd seen, She’d made sure his bathroom was well-stocked. What else could help? A heat compress? Or would that feel like a whole lot of nothing, given his powers? She bit her lip. Taking off the cybernetics would probably do something, but she knew they were a source of security for him. The only time she'd seen him without them was after the river, and he'd woken up in a panic. Still, when she looked closer, the skin around the metal looked irritated.
“Do you think taking off your arms would help?”
Unsurprisingly, he shook his head. “No.”
“Not even for a little while?”
“Can't.”
“You know you're safe here—”
“Can't,” he repeated, then added, voice nearly a whisper, “Not… not like this.”
Okay. She could work with that. Maybe once he was in a better headspace they could get a look at the skin under the metal… Fuck, they should probably find some… silicon sleeves or whatever. Those were a thing, right? She didn't know how she'd find someone who specialized in that and wouldn't turn him over to Fox, but she'd sure as fuck try. In the meantime…
“Is it okay if I touch you?” She didn't expect a yes, but after a moment, Lex nodded.
“I'm gonna be behind you, okay? You can tell me to stop at any time.” Another nod, and Sarah moved into place. Her hands were slow to lay on his shoulders, hearing intensifying to listen to his heart.
Slowly, gently, Sarah began to massage his left shoulder, kneading her fingers as close to the metal of his cybernetics as she could.
A soft exhale slipped out of Lex, so loud compared to his heartbeat that it almost made her jump.
“You okay?”
“Y-yeah. That's…”
“Want me to keep going?”
“Yeah.”
She moved to the other side. Her hands were already getting a little tired, but she tuned them out.
“If you're comfortable with it, I can do this without the prosthetics on sometime. Might be more effective.”
He nodded against her. “Now?”
“Now?” she repeated.
“Just… one at a time.”
“Yeah.” She stepped back, giving him space to access the mechanism that would release his left arm, extending her own hand to help catch it and lower it to the couch. The scars underneath were thick and uneven, the skin around them reddened. She'd have to be gentle.
He shifted as her fingers grazed the residual limb, eyes drifting closed as she began to knead the tense area.
After all she'd done to avoid Corp, entering one of their shiniest buildings just felt wrong to Sarah. If she wasn't here to 'work out an agreement’—which she hoped was CEO-speak for ‘we surrender’—she'd sooner brick the windows than set one foot on the polished linoleum.
Annie Rivera, head of Good Knight, was waiting when she arrived on the hundredth floor.
“Spyglass.” She offered a smile warm enough to blow a grandma out of the water, and Sarah had to remind herself that however friendly she seemed, Annie committed all the same atrocities as Uriah. Maybe more. She'd certainly heard this lady was ambitious, and that was CEO-speak for ‘out for blood.’
“I wasn't sure you'd come.”
It had taken a lot of discussion with the others and a lot more internal debating before she'd even considered it. She'd sat on the invitation for days before agreeing to meet. Lately, every little decision set her nerves in a jumble, anxiety firing on full blast, insisting she'd certainly make the wrong choice. Her brain had been working against her for weeks, ever since Lex—
She had to keep from physically recoiling at the thought of him. She was sure he was still alive, everyone was, but no matter how hard they searched, they couldn't find a trace.
Despite being perfectly capable of manipulating Lex into obedience, Uriah still enjoys using brute force. It's a display of power, really, and makes for a more entertaining party.
Im having a pretty bad pain day today, can I request some Cingerglass caretaking? Maybe Lex has a bad pain day too, with phantom pains and Sarah being there for him. Idk just he doesn’t have to go through that alone anymore
cw: phantom pain, referenced captivity
He woke to shooting pain in his hands.
It felt like his fingers were overextended and cramping, the muscles in his palms spasming, and Lex wondered dully how he'd managed to hold them open like that as he'd slept. He curled his hands into fists, but was only met with the sound of metal on metal as his cybernetics obeyed the signal. His cybernetics, that he couldn't feel.
He sat up, moving his arms into his lap, the stretching, straining, imaginary pain still there, getting worse, crawling up the forearms he didn't fucking have anymore. He breathed through clenched teeth, trying not to let panic rise in his chest.
(Nest, best, crest)
This had happened before. He knew it was... normal, kind of, but he didn't know how to stop it. In the Tower, he'd just curled up on his cot until it got to be too much and he was biting back screams. With Uriah, all of his energy went into trying to conceal it, trying not to let it become another moment Fox could exploit. Here... fuck. He was free, but it was early morning, and he didn't want to wake anyone up.
He forced himself out of bed, trying to shake off the feeling by shaking his cybernetic arms, but it did nothing. He stared at his hands, willed the ghostly ones to relax and close with the metal ones, but the fingers stubbornly refused, stretching and stretching until it felt like the joints would sever from each other.
(Brother, another)
He needed to go out. Go for a walk or something, try to distract himself, ride it out. He winced as he grabbed the handle of the door to his room and threw it open, tried to keep his breathing even as he moved down the stairs, stumbled towards the door--
"Lex?"
Sarah was already awake. His metal fingers curled into tight fists, but the sound of it only seemed to drive the phantom hands to be spiteful, a flash of pain running up his arms with such intensity that Lex had to choke back a gasp.
"I--I'm going out," he said, forming the words carefully, trying not to let any pain leech into his voice, but the words were coming out too sharp. Clipped. "Be back later." (Hater, crater)
"Are you okay?"
"Fine." Even as he said it, his body sought to prove him a liar, non-existent forearms clenching with enough force that it felt like the muscle fibres were splitting. Lex winced audibly, metal hands coming up to wrap around him before he could stop himself.
Through blurring vision, he could see Sarah getting up, coming to stand a few feet away from him.
"Uh... we might have different definitions of what 'fine' is," she said in a careful voice.
(Brine, sign)
"It-- I can't do anything about it," Lex said. Fuck, he didn't want to explain this right now, didn't want to fuck up her morning, he just wanted to leave so he could scream in peace. "Phantom pain," he said shortly, and hoped that was enough.
Her eyes widened. "Oh shit, hold on, I can grab you some Tylenol."
Lex's brows pulled down further. He kept forgetting that was something that was available, after he'd gone so long without it as an option. "Yeah," he gasped out. "Please."
"Okay, here. Sit down." She held out her hands, and he moved to meet them, allowing her to guide him to the couch.
"I'll be right back."
He hunched forwards, trying to breathe through the next bout of spasms. The moment seemed to drag out forever, but eventually Sarah came back with water and pills, and he took both eagerly.
"I'm not sure how much it'll help---"
"S'okay. It's enough," he said. Miles better than what he'd had access to in the past. His forearms twisted tighter, and he turned away from her, clenching his jaw until the muscle there began to burn. Despite his best efforts, a whimper managed to slip out.
He felt the couch shift as Sarah sat beside him. "Do you want me here?" she said softly. "I can go upstairs if you'd rather be alone."
Did he? He was used to being alone, especially for this, but... he didn't want her to go. Even if it didn't do much for the pain, something in him was drawn to her like a magnet, and he just... felt better when she was nearby.
"Stay," he said, and she smiled in return.
"Okay. I can put on some cartoons? It might help distract you from it."
He nodded, eyes squeezing shut against another wave of pain. Better than nothing, better than staring at the wall and waiting for it to end.
"You... Uh, you can sit closer if you want," Sarah said. "I mean, you don't have to, but if you think it'll help..."
He wasn't sure it would, but because it would be a distraction, because it was Sarah, he inched closer to her, breathing shakily as he lowered his head onto her shoulder, felt her arm rest light on his waist.
It didn't help the pain, not directly.
But it sure felt good to have something to hold on to.
putting one more Cinderglass drabble request in your askbox (i am so sorry for the spam but i’ve been thinking about them nonstop aghfsk). again, feel free to ignore this!
i‘d love to see Sarah help Lex work through a panic attack or a traumatic flashback! maybe either so that he doesn’t have to drown himself in alcohol about it or she’s helping and calming him down while he’s drunk
Not long at all, really, but it was something, and he was trying, and it was fine.
Well, it was fine for thirty seven hours.
Outright quitting was the only thing Lex dared to do. Trying to just cut back wouldn't work, because what was cutting back? He didn't keep track of how much he drank anymore, he just drank until he felt like it was enough. Even just trying to regulate himself to one a day seemed risky business. Would he be able to stop, once he started?
He didn't want to find out.
Lex didn't tell Sarah, didn't want her saying it was a bad idea or insisting on staying with him. It was a rough ride ahead, and he didn't want to somehow hurt her in the throes of his panic or sickness. He... He didn't want her to see him like that.
So he locked himself in his room, told her not to bother him this week, that he'd be busy. The safehouse was old and decrepit but huge, and his room had a small bathroom attached, something he was doubly grateful for now.
He stocked his room with water bottles. It was impossible not to think of Sarah whenever he looked at their plastic cases now, Sarah staying up until early daylight, because she was worried. That was good. He could use his guilt there as a reminder; a reason to hold out.
He sipped at them and stared at the wall, every light in the room on, the old radio Sarah had gotten for him positioned at the foot of his bed. She'd given him a battered CD case with it, packed full of a few dozen discs. A Guns n Roses album was currently in, playing just loud enough to pull his thoughts.
She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories
By now, Lex was pretty good at doing nothing, letting himself sink into the thankfulness that nothing was being done to him. Even a year after the Tower and weeks free of Uriah, the talent hadn't faded. Day one turned into night, and he didn't dare fall asleep. Just swapped one CD for another and let his mind cling to the lyrics.
Alexei trudged back to Chopper’s with the sunrise to his back, dried blood crusting the seams in his arms. Some was his, some was the mark’s, a loan shark he'd made quick work of, though it had taken most of the night to catch him alone.
He was exhausted, hopefully exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, hopefully exhausted enough to dream of nothing. He doubted he'd be that lucky.
This was all he'd ever hoped for in the last two years. Of being free, of life going back to business as usual. So why couldn't he sleep?
Making it away from the Tower, from Uriah, had been some big, stupid, out-of-reach fantasy. And in that fantasy, as soon as Lex was free, it was all better. Things were back to normal. The last two years were a bad dream. Easy to bottle away and forget about.
It was his own fault. Telling Uriah to make him useful, asking to be set loose on his other enemies. Unsurprisingly, someone with as much power as Uriah had plenty. Not all of whom needed to be eliminated, but enough to keep Lex busy.
It wasn't that bad. Sometimes he could even pretend it was like the old days. Just another contract, and when he completed it, he'd collect payment and go home. But every shift of his hands, every command Uriah's voice issued from the collar, reminded him of the truth.
Target of the day was someone Fox had been trying to take out for months; a travel agent who helped Redlined under the table. Someone who Lex would've held in high regard, if not for the fact that admiration made it harder to carry out a death sentence. There was nothing he could do but ensure a painless end; better than he'd get if he failed Uriah. What a shame Fiona Verne hadn't been able to hide forever.
He'd staked out the agency she worked at, learning quickly that she liked to stay late, and deciding he'd act after hours. Nothing subtle. He'd smash in windows, break some furniture.
"But no fire," Uriah had instructed. "I don't want this to be tied to you in any way."
Verne was still at her desk, a single light shining over her, when the sun went down. No headlights in the distance, no record of heroes patrolling this corner of the city at this hour. Time to act.
I had this dream last night I really wanted to share where by some unexplained dream logic dimension travel shenanigans, Lex got isekaied into Riot Kings and kinda wanders around confused as heck before he stumbles upon Melchior before Jin and Nabi do.
The other details are kinda fuzzy but he breaks Mel out and tries to figure out this strange world he was put in Melchior is just terrified of this random dude with metal arms and fire powers. He warms up (heh pun intended) eventually though.
They’re both on the run together now also Lex kinda takes Mel under his wing in a found family kinda way (it was like genuinely sweet) then I woke up wishing this was real-
TLDR; Alexei gets isakaied into Riot Kings, Melchior gains father figure
are Lex and Sarah actually going to have The Talk she mentioned in this (https://www.tumblr.com/befuddled-calico-whump/734559110463389696/feel-totally-free-to-ignore-this-butive-been)? and if yes, how would it go?
cw: alcoholism (discussed), past trauma/implied noncon (discussed), adult language
•°•°•
Lex was silent as Sarah made breakfast, eyes firmly locked on the table. It was almost noon when she'd finally made it downstairs; staying awake until who-knew-when to wait up for the assassin had really taken a toll on her sleep schedule. Not that she'd be able to fall asleep anyway without the confirmation he was back safe and sound.
Akeela and Hugo had already eaten and were working on scouring some new leads---well, Hugo was scouring leads while Akeela antagonized him---and Rosie, nocturnal as ever, would probably be in bed until mid afternoon. Which meant it was just her an Lex for the morning meal.
Now that she thought about it, this might've been the first time she'd seen him sitting at the table at all.
Was it because of last night? Did he even remember last night? Her promise to talk in the morning? If that's what he was hanging around for, she didn't know how to proceed. It was good, good he wanted to talk, to address the drinking problem no one wanted to acknowledge, but she wasn't qualified for this kind of thing. She didn't want to screw up; give him some kind of fucked-up advice that would only make everything worse for him.
ue ue ue ue i would love to see uriah whumped in the tower…have him learn what it was like for Lex
cw: referenced/implied torture, beatings, and mouth/eye whump
He'd been someone important once, the man in the cell, and to hear him talk of it he imagined he still was.
The first day was haughty eyes and a cruel mouth that made demands. The second day could've been the same, but Endii didn't bother to remove the blindfold or gag and find out. Entertaining the man's arrogance was exhausting, and ignoring it was annoying. Better that he never got the chance to speak at all.
His self-importance waned as the weeks flew by. Endii only saw him once per day, as they were making their evening rounds through the Tower, handing out healing touched to those who needed them, those who'd tasted the anger or boredom of the guards, or bent under the hands of one of the prison’s many patrons.
This important man was one of the latter group, more often than not. Endii always found him in one of Rentals’ rooms, sometimes chained, sometimes not. Always bleeding. Truth be told, they weren't entirely certain that he had a cell here, or if he stayed at Rentals day and night, always ready for the attentions of his visitors.
He really must be important to have so many seeking to hurt him. He wasn't Empowered, not so far as they could tell, and he seemed far too soft for the type of criminals that usually graced the Tower. They couldn't be bothered to reach a conclusion of why that was. They were paid to heal, not to care.
Their first day seeing him, he'd been clad in a tailored suit; carefully combed blond hair set askew by his struggles, neatly trimmed fingernails clawing at the air as he was dragged down the hall, thrown into the locked room where he now resided.
He still wore the suit, partially, sometimes. When he was clothed, it was in the bloodied tatters that remained of it. His shoes were long gone, his fingernails ragged, his hair matted and unkempt. Every day seemed to weigh him down further, every visitor taking a piece of him with them when they left. His bite, his will, his hope. Intangible souvenirs. Soon there'd be nothing remaining.
Some days Endii had to remove the gag or the blindfold; to heal a split eyelid, a torn tongue, broken teeth. Any arrogance had vacated his expression, and it seemed he had no words left.
He'd been someone important once, the man in the cell. And to see him now, he probably wished he never was.
Gathering allies had proven exceedingly difficult.
Sarah was having a hard time scoping out anyone she could trust not to turn on them, and the few people that she knew hated Corp more than they loved money didn't seem inclined to stick their necks out.
So instead of sending winks and nudges to potential allies, she turned to what had proven to be a wellspring of information: Neath bars. All she had to do was buy a drink and sit and listen. The patrons who had real secrets spoke low enough that they thought they'd go unheard. If Sarah wasn't there to pick up their whispers, they probably would've.
She learned a lot of what she could call fun facts. Who was being sent to kill who and why, who'd been recently redlined or arrested. A few times her ears had pricked up at Cinder's name, but there were never any rumors of his death or capture, only vague comings and goings. She supposed she should consider it good news.
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