Chapter Text
There are no hands affecting their vision this time, so they get unfiltered access to the whole room. The afternoon sun paints an almost eerie orange glow across the long room, the gray walls giving a sense of foreboding as they sit in silence and watch. For a while, there’s only the sound of the other IO board members filing into the space, each taking their seats at the long table dividing their rat and Doctor Slone. With a soft click, a door somewhere off to the right is shut, and a final figure steps into the frame. The painfully familiar blonde man stops by Slone’s side, clasping his hands in front of him and turning his attention towards the table. Agent Jones was one of the IO’s most loyal dogs and was one of the main reasons the 7 ever struggled with their missions. It was almost like he was trained specifically to be a thorn in the Foundation’s side. Slone’s voice filled the deathly quiet room, making several of the board members visibly jump. The Legend remained unflinching, still streaming the meeting directly to the 7.
“There’s a rat!” There, the words they all had been dreading ever since the Legend started working with them in the first place, “That’s the only explanation, how else would the 7 be so far up our asses? Every plan we’ve had for the past three months, every supply run to the crash site has been interrupted and raided.” Dragging a hand down her face, the woman lets out an annoyed sigh. “And now, with the Ghost and Shadow turf war going on, not to mention Midas and that brat daughter of his trying to break the loop, I have the higher-ups wanting a name!” At this point, the woman had begun to pace across the front of the room angrily. Finally spinning to slam her hands onto the table, she takes a deep breath. “Keep your eyes peeled, and check-in with everyone from your departments. If anyone, and I mean anyone, seems suspicious, report it to myself or Agent Jones. I won’t have the 7 mettling in our affairs any longer.”
As she speaks, Agent Jones’ blue eyes flick over to the camera, and the remaining members of the 7 suck in a breath, waiting for their cover to be blown. But the camera stays stable, as if their Legend had nerves of steel, even if they were being stared at directly. As the agent’s harsh blue eyes finally move away, they let out a collective sigh of relief. Taking a step forward, the blonde clears his throat.
“Don’t worry, if we’re vigilant, and use our time wisely, it shouldn’t take us long to have this situation handled.” He glances around once more before taking a file from Slone. “Now, while we have you all here, let's get down to business…”
Eventually, the meeting comes to an end, and everyone slowly files out of the room. As the final member leaves the conference room, Jones looks back at where their rat is sitting, gives a stern-faced nod, and exits the frame as well. The call finally ends, and the members of the 7 are left in silence.
“Shit..” The Visitor’s soft voice is a surprise, the usually silent character’s leg bobbing with worry.
Hating the burning anxiety that coiled and writhed in his throat, the Foundation tightly grips the back of the Scientist’s chair, the material creaking under the pressure of the large man’s hand. “I’ll contact the Legend again. It’s no longer safe for them to be there. We’ll take them into hiding.” He wonders if his voice sounds as breathless as he feels, and he numbly reaches for the keyboard.
For once, no one said anything about their Leader’s habitual need to message their informant, and all silently watched as his fingers flew across the keys.
The Foundation: [Call us back. The minute you’re safe, call me back.]
The group sat in silence for nearly an hour, all hoping that their rat hadn’t been caught. Resting a firm hand on the Foundation’s shoulder, the Visitor gives it a reassuring squeeze, which only serves to confuse the man. Turning to look down at the younger member of the team, he tries to force his brain to work, to string together a single thought, a response for what he can tell is that too-knowing gaze. Before he can say anything, his head snaps forward again, attention drawn by the low ringing of the phone. Moving forward, he presses the answer button immediately.
The sound of shuffling comes from the other end, ominous crinkling and soft thumps make the Foundation's heart lurch repeatedly. Eventually, the camera turns on, and all of them are taken aback. They were looking into a dim-lit office, any identifying objects hidden away, and in front of them sat a man. He was dressed well, a fitted, button-down shirt clinging comfortably to his figure, tucked into a pair of black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up and he was sitting on the floor. However, the whole image was ruined by a paper bag on his head. Instinctive dread left a heavy pit in the older man’s stomach, he’d seen hundreds of videos that started like this, and none of them were good. Had they been caught already? Would this be how he finally saw the Legend’s face? The Foundation’s heart pounded in his ear, flashes of memories he thought long buried were being forcefully dredged up by the sight of their rat like this. Then he saw the eyes. Familiar blue eyes watched them, watched him from two holes cut in the paper bag. He couldn’t be more thankful that he still had his helmet on. The tense silence was finally interrupted by an annoyed noise coming from the Scientist. They all watched the bag-headed man, waiting for someone to say something.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The Scientist hisses, pushing his chair back as if to leave.
The Legend raises a hand to catch their attention again. Making sure the camera could stand on its own, the Legend, or, who they assumed it was, raises his hands and starts to sign.
“Can any of you read sign language?” He asks, his hands moving slowly so they can follow with the laggy screen. “Mine’s a little sloppy, but it’s probably best for now.”
The Visitor eagerly lifts their hands, wanting to respond but are cut off by an arm coming from the man to their right. Letting out another angry noise, the Scientist takes a step forward, jabbing a finger towards the screen. “Alright, enough screwing around. Why the fuck are you wearing a bag on your head? And why can’t you talk, huh? Another important secret?”
Pausing for a moment, the Legend tilts his head, the paper bag crinkling ominously before he looks over his shoulder. Making sure the coast is clear, he reaches down and raises the camera up, showing them the room around him. It’s a simple office, a filing cabinet in front of them and one to the right, small knick knacks decorating the space. The Legend has them hidden beneath a sturdy desk, and on the front wall, a large window, blinds shut tight, filtered in fleeting lights of people passing by the room. Bringing himself back into view, he puts the camera down and resumes signing.
“These walls are really thin, and they all think I went home. If they hear me talking, they’ll get suspicious and check if someone is sneaking around my office. I had a feeling this would be a lot harder to explain to them than it would be to you guys.”
A bubble of pride sat in the Foundation’s stomach, the familiar warmth chasing away the chill of panic he had felt just a few minutes earlier. So the rat wasn’t as dumb as he thought. “That’s fine. Thank you for taking this so seriously.” If the Foundation could see the Scientist’s face, he’s sure he would be getting the dirtiest look imaginable.
“Of course. I know what would happen if they found out, and the Island still needs you guys.”
The sudden reminder of the meeting had any lingering warmth leaving the older man in an instant, familiar dread forming a small pit in his stomach. Leaning forward, the leader of the 7 draws the Legend’s attention towards him. “You’re right, and with the IO’s new plans and growing anxieties, it’s not safe to let you keep doing this. If you’ll let us, we can take you somewhere safe. We can hide you from the IO until we take them down. I’ll personally go and pick you up if need be.”
The Legend watches him for a long time, and for a brief moment, the Foundation thinks he recognizes the eyes staring back at him, and he only hopes that the other man is considering the offer. Finally, the Legend lifts his hands and begins to sign once more.
“As much as I appreciate it, the IO is planning something BIG, and the last thing I want is you going in blind. With what’s coming, you’ll need an informant now more than ever.”
“We’ll handle it!” he snaps, the small group behind him growing tense as they watch the interaction. “Let us save you. If you’re caught feeding us information you know what they’ll do to you.” He’d seen it before, memories of old allies and friends filling his mind as he tried so desperately to convince the person hiding under the bag.
Once again, the Legend watches him, and just as the Foundation thinks he’s won, he watches the bagged head dip silently. All of his hopes are dashed in an instant, the Legend’s hands firm as he replies.
“Of course, I know what will happen. But my answer is still no. There’s too much at stake if I stop now, and I have too much to answer for. I have to go. I’ll contact you all soon”
“Legend, wait-!” but before he can say anything else, before he can think of anything to say to make the man stay on just a little longer, the video ends and the call is dropped.
The Foundation was at a loss. Ever since he started this rebellion, ever since he took up his title as the leader of the resistance, no one had ever ignored his orders so blatantly. And not even ignored them, his demands had been denied, rejected without a second thought. Glaring at the dark screen, he lets his arms hang uselessly in his lap. After a while, he looks down at his armored hand, watching as he curls his fingers into a fist. The others slowly leave the man to his thoughts, each unsure of how best to approach or handle this tender situation. Only the Visitor stayed, watching their Leader before resting a hand on his shoulder. The larger man’s head whips around, and they could feel that killer glare turned at them.
“He’s just trying to keep you…to keep us safe. He knows if you both meet up he risks leading them directly to us.” ever the thoughtful one, the Visitor’s first instinct was to soothe, their voice soft. They knew firsthand how big their leader’s heart was, it’s why they were willing to speak with him in the first place.
Letting out a tired sigh, the Foundation reaches up to rest a large hand on top of the Visitor’s. “I know...I know. I just..”
Tapping his hand to bring his eyes back to them, they enunciate the words carefully, wanting their leader to really hear what they’re saying, “You care, we all know that. He just cares too. Don’t worry, though, maybe he’ll change his mind after whatever this ‘big’ thing is. It’ll all be okay.”
Knowing better than to argue, he nods numbly. “I just hope that moron doesn’t do anything too stupid.” The response he gets is an amused snort, only adding to the strange, mixed feelings in his stomach, and making him furrow his brows in confusion. “What’s so funny?”
Shaking their head, they pull their hand away, and with a dismissive wave, they leave the large man sitting confused in the Scientist’s chair.