Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe Rick won’t just ask her out; he's been acting all dodgy about the subject just because he used to date Rebecca. I mean, yeah, I get it, it’s like all awkward and stuff, but it isn’t that awkward. Seriously, Di, guys are great but sometimes they can be so stupid,” Jenny lamented with a huff.

“Not getting any arguments from me; last week, I had to drag Martin to the infirmary to get stitches because he saw some video on YouTube of a guy doing balisong tricks,” replied Diana.

“Aren’t those things like extremely illegal?”

“Yeah, but legality doesn’t seem to be in Martin’s vocabulary. Speaking of which, where is Martin? I didn’t see him in Chem.”

“He’s probably humping the leg of the English Lit sub like some kind of pervy chihuahua. Oh shit, that reminds me, I have a test coming up that I haven’t even studied for. I need to power-study until I know I have at least a C, I’ll talk to you later, Di.” Jenny rushed off, leaving Diana alone in the hallway before she had so much as a chance to reply. Turning away from Jenny's sudden absence, Diana stepped forwards and flinched, muscles tense as her foot moved past where the ground should have been. Her whole body pitched forwards as she fell through cold, blue light and felt the slight tingling only experienced when passing through portals. She landed on the hard, unforgiving floor of what she knew immediately from a blur of colours to be MOM's office.

“Come on, MOM. You couldn’t spring for a gentler landing? That fucking hurt,” Diana said before she noticed who was helping her up. “Oh, hi Marvin,” she said, blushing slightly and feeling abashed at her use of profanity. Marvin, who, while looking concerned as to her condition, did not seem particularly focused on anything she had just said.

“In this case, no. We’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes for you to be alone so we could get you here."

“Why couldn’t you have sent Martin to let me know you’re calling?”

Java, whom Diana hadn’t noticed was in the room up until that point, spoke up. “Martin gone.”

“Java is correct, Agent Mystery disappeared last night. Torrington’s CCTV system shows him walking off campus at 1:13 AM; that’s the last visual we have of him. After that, the U-watch tracked him to a park and forest approximately a kilometre from the school. The last two minutes before the watch was deactivated showed a massive spike in heart rate. The three of you are to recover Agent Mystery."

Diana struggled to keep herself out of her head. Marvin and MOM spoke pragmatically about mission logistics, but Diana could see it in their faces that, as with Java, Billy, and herself, some degree of their thoughts were caught on the question of why such a thing would even happen. Martin was known for his dangerous antics, but something about the situation stood out; this somehow seemed more deliberate and reckless than what one might expect from the young man. Diana was shocked out of her thoughts by the slight wind blowing against her face; the trio had crossed a new portal and found themselves at a large park. It was sunny, with grassy hills and lush trees bordering a small lake; the area almost looked too happy for something bad to happen in it. Trails along the side of the river led towards the heavily-shaded canopy of trees.

Marvin's leader-like voice cut through the silence like a knife, and Diana and Java could only nod to his orders: “We'll split up to cover more ground, but keep in sight of each other at all times, okay?” More silent nods. “I’ll search around the edge of the forest; Java, you go look around by the lake, and Diana, you can cover the open ground.”

During the first few minutes of the search, there was an air of optimism; Martin had done something stupid but he would be found, chastised, and things would be set right again. As minutes passed, that feeling began to dissipate into an anxiety that they might not finding anything or worse, if they found something that they refused to acknowledge as a possibility. Martin was going to be fine. After about 45 minutes, Marvin’s somewhat frantic call of “over here!” broke the others out of their thoughts. Neither Diana nor Java could think coherently as they rushed towards Marvin, simply feeling panic set in.

The two arrived to find Marvin, on his knees, with Martin lying unconscious before him. Martin was almost naked, his clothing ripped to shreds and barely clinging to his frame. Everything was a blur after that: the call to the Centre and their arrival; the medics quickly whisking Martin away; the slow, terrifying wait in MOM’s office for the medics to report back to her. It was awful. Then the holographic screen appeared with one of the medics’ faces.

“He’s awake and physically he seems to be in good condition beyond a bit of hypothermia; we’re warming him up. He seems to be highly distressed: he’s crying and not responding to any of our questions.”

“Can we see him?” Diana all but yelled.

The medic frowned, and after a brief pause replied. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea; not all of you at once at least. Having one person he’s familiar with come in might help, but they can’t get emotional; he’s in a very delicate state as it is, and we don't know what sort of trauma he's been through.”

“I’ll go,” Marvin said without hesitation.

“Marvin are you sure that’s a good idea? You and Martin have that whole rivalry thing...” Diana trailed off.

Marvin's eyebrows knitted together for half-a-second of annoyance before softening again. He was well aware of the dynamic between him and Martin, but he was not some asshole who would let that get in the way of his genuine concern for the other man's well-being. “Do you think he'll be open with you?” Diana looked like she was about to protest but stopped before she could say anything. Martin was never an open book when he was in pain; he didn't like worrying others, especially the people closest to him, and if keeping others from hurting because of him meant suffering behind fake smiles and lies, he would accept it. Marvin nodded, seeing the look of understanding in Diana's eyes; ideally, Martin would be familiar with Marvin enough to not panic and feel alone, but he also wouldn't be emotionally invested in protecting Marvin. “I’m not going to do anything to upset him. I promise.”

Marvin looked at Martin with worry. The latter of the two was lying in a hospital bed wearing a thin, medical gown; tears and mucus streaked his face; his mind seemed anywhere but present, and he didn't even notice Marvin was there. Marvin couldn’t help but focus on Martin’s sniffles. He wasn't sure if the silence of the room, empty except for the two of them, that made the noise seem louder than it was or if the sounds where actually that loud.

“Martin?” Marvin started softly.

Martin’s eyes jerked towards Marvin, a look of panic on them. “No, not you!” Marvin had to admit, that one hurt a bit. The two had never really gotten along but it still stung to hear it thrown at him by Martin in such a vulnerable state. Marvin swallowed dryly.

“I can send Diana in here if you want.” Oddly this did more to upset Martin.

“Why are you always so mean to me? You steal my job and now you’re trying to rub it in that my sister hates me!” That was not what Marvin had expected. Marvin could only stand in momentary uncertainty while trying to think of what to do; his split-second decision was to press further for more information, though he forced himself to tread softly and carefully.

“I didn’t steal your job, and why would your sister hate you?” Marvin looked concerned, like he was missing the piece to a puzzle. Martin stared at him, eyes widening, jaw hanging open slightly.

“You really don’t know do you?” The agent’s voice came out breathy, just louder than a whisper. His expression changed from one of surprise and distress to one of tiredness and defeat. It was a difficult sight for Marvin to look at; like all the fight and vigour that had once been part of Martin's personality drained away, leaving an empty shell. Martin’s tears continued to run down his face, but his sniffling had stopped. “It doesn’t matter. The medics, they-they took my blood. You’ll all know eventually.”

“Know what?” Marvin felt like he was approaching a wild animal; like every attempt to get more information was some sudden movement that could result in the animal fleeing or attacking.

“I fucked up,” Martin muttered out with a shaky breath.

Chapter Text

One Month Earlier

Martin hadn't any idea of why it happened. He barely had any idea of how it happened. He knew the procedures of the Centre well: upon completion of his mission, the unfortunate Professor Bakker's remains would be taken for incineration, and his collection of esoterica would be taken for study and containment. Maybe that's why he had taken the skull. It was better of with him.

The hidden room connected to Bakker's office held so many strange and obviously supernatural things. Martin recognized the wooden masks hanging on the walls from legends: were he to wear one, a wild and unpredictable spirit it was made to connect with would be able to wear him, and he would crawl on all fours like a beast. There was a large tank of alcohol, far too large for the formalin-preserved dead octopus it housed, Martin thought, until he realized that while the specimen was indeed dead and did not move when observed, it seemed to reposition itself throughout the tank whenever Martin's back was turned. Martin refused to touch the vicious-looking dagger that sat mounted in a glass case: he avoided looking at it where he could because whenever his eyes fell upon it, some part of him longed to take the blade and cut his own heart from his chest. The board of pinned butterflies looked normal until Martin saw their tiny grinning mouths of white human-like teeth speckled with what Martin hoped was not dried blood.

'I don't think I'll be able to look at a butterfly the same way again', Martin thought to himself, before his eyes caught on the skull.

It looked to be dog's or wolf's skull, though it was enormous, maybe 40 cm long. Martin felt himself drawn to look into the empty orbits where this great beast's eyes would have once been. The skull was in near-perfect condition: not a chip or tooth out of place. Amongst all these horrible and amazing things that Bakker had gathered over the years, Martin had found it. It looked happy to see Martin. It was happy to see Martin. In that moment, Martin knew what he had to do. Professor Bakker had laid claim to the skull — 'selfish,' Martin thought, and he knew the skull agreed with him — like he laid claim to everything in the room. Once the monster that Bakker had become — some stretched and distorted imitation of himself, with long limbs, black eyes, needle-like teeth, and too many joints — was defeated, the Centre would swoop in and lay their own claim. And then the skull would be put into storage. And the skull would be sad. Martin would not let that happen. And so it was, Martin took off his jacket, carefully wrapped it around the skull for protection, and placed it in his backpack. After that, he called out to Diana and Java, who had been exploring the rest of Bakker's house, announcing the discovery of the hidden room.

The rest of the mission was a rush of discovery followed by action. They had worked out that Professor Bakker's attempts to translate a cuneiform tablet from the Bronze Age made him the host to the spirit of a bloodthirsty Assyrian emperor that practiced evil rites... Because yeah, apparently that's a thing... Trying to fight Bakker was easier said than done, and though the ritual to banish the spirit in possession of Bakker's body was a success, it hadn't undone the damage. What Martin had initially thought were new joints, were just the places where the spirit broke Bakker's bones to allow more freedom of movement. Professor Bakker had toyed with forces he didn't understand, so he was partially responsible for his own fate. Still, Martin couldn't help but hope that Bakker had died the moment the spirit taken him over; looking down at the twisted body crumpled on the floor, he didn't want to think about the alternative.

Upon getting back into his dorm room and unpacking his backpack, Martin remembered the skull. His friend. Martin hadn't even given thought to the skull that weighed so heavily in his bag since the hidden room. Probably for the best really. While Martin was pretty adept at hiding things — kind of a requirement to be a secret agent really — MOM was keen and observant in a way that made anyone with secrets squirm under her gaze. The best way to appear innocent is to forget you're guilty in the first place. And hadn't this mission done that? Martin was exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and he couldn't think of much more than just wanting to go home. So there he was, lying on his bed staring at the skull. He found himself holding it close to him as he fell asleep.

Martin woke up with a feeling of absolute agony in his shoulder. The skull had bit him. No that wasn't right. The skull didn't move, and as far as Martin could tell it wasn't like that weird octopus. Maybe Martin had done it to himself in his sleep? That didn't make much more sense, but really, what did it matter? Martin's shoulder was bleeding from the larger bite mark in it. He wandered into the bathroom and dabbed at the wound with hydrogen peroxide. Martin turned his head to look at the skull, sitting patiently on the bed where he had left it. Why had he taken the stupid thing? When everything else in that place was so obviously otherworldly — and he supposed a freakishly-big wolf skull could on its own be counted as weird — why had he taken something from that room? Martin thought of Bakker, and how that ended for him, and those around him. "Is that what's going to happen to me?" Martin asked aloud. The skull, lifeless as ever, sat there and said nothing.

Present

"So if I understand correctly, you stole evidence from a mission. Evidence, I might add, that clearly had supernatural qualities to it. You received injury from it, became a werewolf, and you didn't tell anybody about it. Am I missing anything?" MOM did not seem any more angry than she generally tended to be when around Martin. It was clear that she was trying to keep her tone soft-ish to avoid upsetting him further.

"No, you aren't," Martin said in a hollow, empty manner. And didn't that just seem so wrong. Marvin always knew Martin as his rival, so full of life and energy. He always had something to prove. Now Martin didn't even seem to have the motivation to defend himself or his position. After his fit of emotion with Marvin, he had become dull and numb.

'That's not how he's supposed to be,' Marvin thought to himself angrily, before catching himself in that thought. Why was this affecting him so much? Marvin looked towards Diana, Java, and Billy. Each of them seemed to have a sombre expression, clearly just as bothered as he by the depression that had come over their friend.

"I'm going to have you in training with Sonya and Eric. Sonya's one of the few Werewolves the Centre has employed. From now on, you will attend regular sessions with her so you can learn how to adjust to your new situation." MOM didn't seem to notice, or if she did, did not respond to, the shock that crossed Martin's face while she spoke.

"I don't understand," Martin said in a soft, hoarse voice. "After what I did, I should be fired."

"After everything I've heard, it's pretty clear that you weren't acting entirely under your own volition. The skull obviously had some sort of influence over you, and from the way you've spoken about, I suspect it still does. For that reason, I will be dispatching agents with anti-psychic training to your dorm to have the item removed." MOM spoke this last part with an air of finality that allowed for no protest, even when it looked like Martin was about to. Marvin just caught the way Martin looked panicked at the idea of losing his friend, before schooling his expression into something mostly neutral. No doubt MOM had seen it too, and it would only further he resolve to keep the skull away from Martin.

"So I'm not in trouble? I'm still an agent?" Martin's voice was still rough, though now it had a hint of hope to it. There was life in his eyes again.

"Agent Mystery, you are in a lot of trouble. You should have told the Centre as soon as you were bitten, and you should not have attempted to hide lycanthropy. As it happens though, I think I have a punishment that will fit these circumstances well." MOM's face twisted into something that might have been best called an 'angry smile'. Martin seemed to freeze at this. "You will be demoted from your team's leader. As it so happens this works because, as you will find working with Sonya and Eric, werewolves employed by the Centre are required to have a handler."

"A handler..." Martin said slowly, as if trying out the words in his mouth. "What does that mean for me?

"A werewolf's handler has two primary roles. The first is managing the werewolf, as an asset, on missions: disseminating orders and keeping the werewolf in line. The second role, which is what the vast majority of the position is, is managing the werewolf in day-to-day situations, acting as a caretaker, looking out of both the public's well being and the werewolf's."

Martin looked utterly mortified. "You're saying from now on, I've got to have a glorified babysitter, and that's when they aren't also my boss on missions?" Marvin cringed a bit. He could see both sides of the argument. While he had never dealt with werewolves before, he imagined they could be quite volatile and might require some fretting over. On the other hand, he could understand how Martin might perceive this as a loss of freedom and autonomy.

"More or less, yes. A babysitter who keeps you from ripping people apart." MOM leveled a gaze at Martin, though he quickly looked away. Turning to Marvin, MOM gave him a strange look before stating, "Agent Simard, I am assigning you as Agent Mystery's handler." Marvin felt like his heart just dropped.

"Him?" Martin yelped, frantically gesturing between MOM, himself, and Marvin. Though Marvin was at a loss for words, that one did kind of hurt, but yeah, he was equally as confused.

"Yes, him." Whatever delicate handle (or her poor attempt at it) MOM had tried with Martin before when he was feeling vulnerable was now gone. She was as stone cold and serious as ever. Then it broke, if only for a moment, as a teasing smirk formed. "Agent Mystery, congratulations on your new roommate."