Chapter Text
The view was benevolent as she stared out solemnly, with windows almost ten feet tall wrapped around the house and the beachfront empty. The ocean though, told another story, almost endless and violent with its magnificent waves crashing and breaking against the shore. Kim stood and watched, her thoughts mirroring the scenery in front of her.
Six months.
It had been six months since the mission where she had lost her only lead to Sabretooth. Six months since all hope for her redemption was lost. Six months since she was released from the agency. It was her own fault anyway; she was too stubborn to listen. She was considered a hazard and risk to the team and was given a new identity, money, and safe house. Standard protocol for all those who "left" the agency.
Kimberly Hart did not exist anywhere, and she was now known as Kimberly Houghlin, college student with an inheritance. Thing was, she did not really mind the new identity and life, she always knew it was inevitable early retirement or not. No, that was fine. What she hated was that to the world, Kim was dead.
The official story is that she never recovered from being shot. Embolism after being in ICU for a week after surgery. Even Tommy thought she was dead. That hurt Kim the most. Her best friend was out there, thinking Kim was gone, blaming herself for it. But there was nothing she could do, The Company had explicitly told her to stay away, or else. Kim knew better than to go against them. She would never win. Never could.
So, with their suggestion, she bought this beach house on the southern coast of California, Angel Grove to be exact, and did the same thing every day. Wake up, eat, run ten miles along the ocean, and after showering stood in front of the windows just staring outside. She occasionally went into town for supplies, but she never spoke to anyone, never straying from her routine. She knew if she did, she would never find her way back.
A storm was rolling in, so Kim stood up, sighed, and set about making the house secure against it. She snapped the last shutter in place, and walked over to the kitchen, setting the alarm and security system as she did. She softly padded over to the fridge, grabbed the half empty bottle of whiskey she had in the freezer and walked into her office as she drank.
She did not need a glass.
She sat at her desk, booting her laptop up, making sure the encryption was set before searching for what she had been since being forced into early retirement.
She was careful in her searches and internet traffic, knowing full and well that even with her safeties in place she could be tracked. She had learned that much from Billy.
Ah. Billy. A pang of guilt stabbed her in the chest, and she took a big swig from the bottle, hoping to numb her feelings. She did not want to think of her team, what they thought or felt at her mistake and what it cost them all.
She pulled up Google, took a long drag from her bottle, double checked that her IP address was truly masked, and went about searching for anything that might be remotely connected to Sabre and more importantly, X-Force. If she were a civilian, she would not have noticed anything, but Kim was trained better. She was scrolling for the better part of an hour when a headline caught her eye.
"FOURTH ANGEL GROVE UNIVERSITY STUDENT OVERDOSES ON OOZE. IS THIS A NEW EPIDEMIC?"
Kim stops and clicks the link, but the article is short. Only mentions the students name, and that they overdosed at a frat party. No suspects or leads were mentioned, just that it was ongoing and was not connected to the first three overdoses.
Kim snorts, knowing better than what the article says, takes a drink, and hits print. She continues searching until she hears the final push from her printer and puts the bottle down. She gets up clumsily and grabs the freshly printed page and a thumb tack. She walks over to her board and pins it to her ongoing notes.
She steps back and looks at everything she is gathered so far in the last few months. All overdoses so far, the students involved and any connection they may have. None of the students knew each other or had classes together, and all lived in different dorms. They did not even run in the same social circles.
Kim's instincts knew that it was one specific person supplying Ooze, but with such sparse details, she could not figure out who, even though she knew the ultimate source that was responsible is Sabre. And since she was technically dead, she could not chase the lead personally knowing The Company would make sure she actually was.
She kept looking for any connection though, leaving her computer to continue searching. She stared up at the board, rereading everything for what seemed liked the millionth time.
The names and lives of everyone who overdosed, the locations, and witnesses. Everything was triple checked, down to the date and time.
First Victim: Adam Park
Major: Philosophy
Background: Martial arts expert, picked on in school, decided to be better than those around him. Currently in recovery at Angel Grove Physical Rehab
Second Victim: Emma Goodall
Major: Entomology
Background: Was taking pictures in the forest, found by Gia Moran, and taken to E.R. Currently off campus at parents' home in Silver City
Third Victim: Theo Martin
Major: Genetics; Jaguar micro stabilities
Background: Twin brother to Luen and partner in lab to Lily Chilman, all currently at childhood home in L.A. finishing research
Fourth Victim: Mia Watanabe
Major: Music Production
Background: Grew up with brother Terry, both music prodigies, currently in London with Terry recuperating.
Kim stares for ages, looking for even the smallest thing to link them aside that they all went to Angel Grove University, and suddenly turns around and growls, grabbing the bottle and chugging what is left. Why couldn't she find a connection? Even an organization like Sabre HAD to slip up. What was she missing?
She looks back at the board, searching, hoping, that the answer would appear. Frustration grew by the second, building, festering, and finally it all just broke.
She screamed, letting everything she is bottled up to this point go and throws the empty bottle at the board and it shatters, flying everywhere, cutting her. But she does not care, and she grabs anything she can get her hands on, her laptop, lamp and desk and throws it all. She trashes the room, and finally after she’s done, she stands there, chest heaving, staring back at the now ruined board. She reaches, hands bloody and tears everything off, screaming in anger, in pain, failure, and regret.
She breaks down and falls to her knees crying. Sobs wrack her chest, and she just lays there, does not know how long for, just sits in the wrecked room, crying.
Kim eventually drifts off, visions of blood and yellow in her mind.