Chapter Text
Lilith shifted with his mood, dictated to by tone as she lived in the Captain’s wake. Slithers of tenderness. Sympathy, always. But it wasn’t always clear, had to be watched carefully because he was a fickle man, narrative swayed with the direction of the smoke that left his lungs, feelings left to the breeze as he wrestled with the ebb and flow of his mounting responsibilities, tidal waves crashing on the shore of his desire. He’d swim and swim, never quite making it to the sand.
Here, pleading, chaste kisses pressed to his hand, reverent even as she presented herself before him, soft and belly up. He remained quiet, she did not feel the need to retreat just yet, lips hovering, eyes downcast. She could morph with him, predict the mood, armed and entrenched within herself, she could recoil, each pointed bone that protruded from her form serving as a blade. Soft or sharp? Desperate writhing back and forth from belly to back as she grappled with the need to rip herself apart and present humble and vulnerable, no threat to him, beating heart and bleeding flesh. To invite his worry to borrow in, wrap itself beneath sinew and muscle so that they may agree on something better, nurse a solution together. Something liveable. But John knows, the only thing viable that spawns from himself is death. He could deliver himself and his worries unto her to swallow but what point in soiling fertile promise with rot?
He will not tell her. She will not rot.
His silence is deafening and the horrid shift begins. Bones and blades, back and forth, she jerks from him with an agonised sound, smile like stained glass, colourful and ornate as it illuminated the hallow church of her face.
“I’ll find out eventually.” Ominous enough, not needing to waste precious breath. Assured that within this peculiar prison, someone would crack. “Even worse, John,” She drew him in, piercing eyes a grim slash in the light as she armed herself “Your situation is mine.” Cruel echoes of the Captain’s words claw menacingly from the caverns of her mouth.
“And I will make it much, much worse for you.” Down and down she’d fallen into his den, what was the point? Of denying it? Why clamber toward the light when the rest circled the warren? They knew more, no chance of fighting the change.
She’d shift with it.
With her haunting smile and exchange of words, John remained very still. Wound-tight, rusted wire scraping against each coil, bound by the sheer determination not to snap. “And how do you plan on doing that Lilith?” Price pressed, whistling tone through his teeth, suppressed as always.
“Well, I’ve seen his face.” Her smile disturbed him.
Lilith did not make it to Kyle to help him with the nurse. Nor did she make it to dinner. The threat lingered between the liminal space of the Captain and herself, a bleak reminder that neither played fair, a ghastly mirror of one another, it was hard to fight your reflection.
Russians, he said, it was ultra-nationalists that had managed to nearly take Simon out of the worldly equation. She sat curled tight into the seat across from his desk, arms wrapped securely around her knees, collapsing inward to a tight ball. Russians wanted to tie up loose ends, stop the task force from interfering as they had before. Her presence, however fleeting it was, raised suspicion of other operatives on the playing field. A man named Shepard, needed to cover things up, something to do with another mission the task force had botched for the other side. It was, complicated. Two opposing forces, unregulated and sporadic in their actions, surged up from the unmarked graves of missions just buried.
Ultra-nationalists think she is working for the likes of Shepard and reportedly, are searching for friends.
‘Why?’ The resounding question kept ringing out, head rested atop her knees as she peered up at Price, who had been pacing the room for the hours of his storytelling.
They have a common enemy, a common interest in seeing the task force dead and gone, ‘looking up at the grass’ as he put it. There was mention of missiles, a disgraced General Shepard now crazed and off-grid, dangerous. It all seemed to be out of touch, an outstanding blood-red mosaic of lies. How could there be so much grey area? More than she’d ever imagined, every doomsday lunatic sounded saner and saner by the minute as she tried to soak it in, tried to imagine John in action. No. The Captain in action.
She scribbled softly, unsharpened pencil scratching monotonously against the crisp paper as she listened, slowly adding item after item to her list. It helped it settle in, acknowledge that the world she knew was shallow and rather obscured, the pain and pleasure nothing compared to what interfered beneath the surface.
Lilith leant back, stretching out her limbs with a loud groan, inhaling deeply soon after. She’d become accustomed to his atmosphere of storm clouds and cigar smoke, it no longer made her so dizzy. A quiet fell upon them, more comfortable than before, a lull in his grand tale and the repetitive creak of the floorboards under his boots. She took her chance, holding out her wish list of supplies with a tentative look. “I wouldn’t actually hurt Simon.” Statement soft, sheepish and skittish compared to her outrage from before, tone thick with promise.
Price let himself stare down at the list, smudged lead and neat, rounded writing. “You need to remember who’s on your side.” He led off, taking the paper and scanning down the writing, he’d tease her about its length later.
“You were sedating me barely three weeks ago, this is a two-way thing John.” Defensive, teeth-baring down onto her cheek, gum ground between her molars in thought. “This,” She mentioned between them “has helped, I kind of.. understand a bit more now, that’s all I wanted.”
“Good. I think it’s best we put you up to doing something useful, other than making threats and yellin’ at me.” He chided teasingly, eyes a little warmer as he looked at her, crinkling at the sides slightly.
“Oh yeah? Kyle wants me to join morning training, that good enough?”
John shook his head, returning back to his desk to pull out a paper from one of his many files, sliding it over to her. “Says ere’ your degrees’ in finance.” There’s a troublesome cheek in his statement, a little glint in his gaze. “I could use a little help keeping the books straight.”
Lilith laughed awkwardly, eyebrows raised at his suggestion. “Thought you guys just ran around shooting people.”
“Yeah well, someone has to keep it all in order, the usual army accountants do most of it but when the team is black ops well, can’t really get them to file reports on that, and I still need to keep check of what goes in and out.”
“Let's see then.” A hefty ledger was dropped onto the table and she began to sift through its contents, face contorting into a grimace as Lily could barely make out the statements, briefly attempting to tally up a basic budget on a page left her even more horrified.
“You make that face at bad bookkeeping and not at the general violence and world-threatening missiles in the catch-up.”
“This is barely accounting John, this is miracle work, not even God himself would be able to fit these numbers into the budget, how’d you even carry on like this?” It was beyond salvation. “Your outflow is well, outrageous, it doesn’t match up to any revenue, how the fuck are you not in debt?” None of it made sense, by these numbers, the task force wouldn’t even have enough money for a pot noodle between them, let alone money for home nation guns on black ops missions.
“Exactly, see love, this is why you’ll be scrubbing up the books. We get funding from elsewhere for certain team-related missions, it just needs to seem viable on here so nothing looks too out of sorts.” Hoarse hums left him as he watched her pool over the mess of numbers, admittedly, the accounting wasn’t his strong suit. Keeping track of the money that Laswell poured into underground operations became tedious and halfway impossible when the team was out on the deployment so much, he barely got his field reports in on time.
“Also, old man, why the hell are these on paper? Are you slow on excel or something?” Lily slammed the ledger shut in disbelief.
“Oi, less of the old man, thank you very much.” It felt more natural giving Lilith some slack, a little room to flex her muscles and take some control again, already she’d uncurled from within herself and spread her presence more. It was a vivid thing, the tenacity she emitted shone so brightly he could see it through her eyes, that lively twinkle that came about every so often. Selfishly, he was glad it was there for him to observe, the illumination nearly made him forget about the putrid reality he was allowing her to spiral into.