Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Phoenix watched as all three of the briefcase’s buttons turned blue, they pressed the button, only to be met with dread

There wasn’t enough power.

“No.. no! It can’t be!” Their handler said.

they looked all over the room, time was running out and lives where on the line. Their eyes landed on The only thing that could power the case.

The car battery, that was also the only thing keeping the elevator they were in from plummeting 32 floors with no emergency breaks.

They had just under 30 seconds left before the nukes would launch. It was the only way.

Their handler, seeing their eyes gaze upon the battery immediately knew what they were about to do.

“But agent! If you do that you’ll- you’ll fall to your death!” He said voice cracking with emotion

20 seconds till launch

It took only a moment of hesitation before they reached for the clamps powering the elevator.

10 seconds till launch

“NO! Agent! There must be another way!” Their handler screamed

They kept going as they moved the red clamp and hooked on the case.

5 seconds left till launch

“AGENT! AGENT NO!” Their handler begged

3 seconds till launch

“PHOENIX!”

They clipped the black wire quickly pressed the button, before feeling their stomach drop.

Everything slowed down, they were floating in the small elevator watching as the floors passed them by.

They did it, they saved… the world

It was one of those moments that didn’t feel real, there was no time to process, there was only the fall.

In the agency, they would teach you not to focus on saving the world, but to think about one person. One person you care about, and focus on saving them.

Phoenix didn’t have anyone they cared about. They had no relatives no friends, no partners. So that strategy didn’t work for them.

At least that’s what they thought.

But in this state of limbo, between them, and the ground, one person, came into their mind.

Their handler. He was always there, he was the one constant in their life they could always trust would be there.

And as the distance between them and death became shorter. They thought about how much he actually, cared about them.

He always was there to support, and he was always there to listen. he would always bring a custom cupcake and a glass of champagne to their desk after every mission. How his voice was always there grounding them even in the most dangerous traps.

In fact they think the most scared they’ve been in their life was when they were separated from each other by juniper’s kidnapping. And how relieved they were when he finally found them again.

I guess they finally found that one person.

They didn’t want to die. They knew one day, this job, it was going to kill them. It nearly did already.

But maybe if their handler was safe, then everything was going to be oka-

Reginald’s pov

This was it. He was on the edge of his seat, all they had to do was disarm the nukes. They watched as his agents frantic eyes glossed over the timer. They were panicking.

“Never mind that agent, you’ve got this” he said more to himself than anyone else. Reginald was holding his breath watching as all the lights turned blue.

But it didn’t work. The button was pressed but the briefcase didn’t have enough power left to stop the launch.

“No.. no that can’t be it!” He said

In the back of his mind Reginald knew what his agent only had one option, but he couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t , not again.

Agent Phoenix though, looked at the battery knew what they had to do.

“But agent if you do that you’ll- you’ll fall to your death!”

This wasn’t happening, not again. The kid didn’t deserve this. No one did, but least of all the kid.

It was too late. they watched helplessly as Phoenix reached for the wires, hands shaking.

“No Agent! There must be another way!” The clock was ticking down, with only seconds left. His agent wasn’t stopping.

They were going to die.

He watched as they hooked up the last wire

“NO! AGENT NO!” They begged

He saw their agent in the reflection, they had tears down their eyes and.. and they were scared.

“PHEONIX!”

he could only watch as his agent pushed the button…

And dropped

and he watched as the zoraxis headquarters was destroyed in a blast that could level out an entire city.

He watched as the feed cut out and left him staring at his own reflection through the empty monitor.

As haunting sound of static hummed through his headset.

Phoenix was dead.

Not missing, or kidnapped.

Dead .

That was when he finally registered the loud cheers that had erupted in the office, other handlers celebrated another victory.

He felt something wet fall on his hand.

Tears.

When did he start crying?

It was at that moment he realized why this was so hard, after all this wasn’t the first time he had lost an agent.

It’s just that this time, he broke the first rule you learn at the agency.

Never. get attached.

Your agent will die.

You won’t be able to save them.

and if you get attached, it will be your fault.

Attachment makes you emotional, and emotions make you dangerous.

After all, if Your mind is your greatest strength.

Then your heart is your worst enemy.

Chapter Text

Pheonixes first thought when waking up were

Ugh! Todays cancelled, Five more minutes

wich was promptly followed by

Ow, just, ow

Then, finally:

fuck. oh shit OH FUCK IM STILL ALIVE!? AGAIN?!

God I really need to stop waking up like this…

This was the point they realized that the predicament they were in, well it was bad to say the least. They were trapped, bleeding out under who knows how much rubble of the unstable wreckage of a building probably still on fire from a massive explosion of a nuke, one which definitely should have killed them when the 32 storey death drop in a steal trap didn’t.

They checked their earpiece, and sent out a mental signal

[Crain…] they started, begging that their mental link to him was still working .

[please If you can hear me, I-I need you, bad. I’m alive. I’m still down here and I can’t see a world were I get out of here by myself. please give me a sign your getting this I… I don’t…]

They waited for a response, a sign, anything that would point to his signal being received…

A terrible silence was all that followed.

[Please, reg, I.. I don’t wanna die all alone, not like this.]

oh god please not like this

No answer, not even a sound.

They were on their own .

Reginald pov

it had been two days since the peace summit, two days without hearing from his agent, and it felt wrong. Usually he would wake up, check in on Phoenix, who would almost always keep him occupied with stupid stories and questions for hours, and if not that, he was going to a meeting to discuss strategy and next steps, always eager to figure out phoenixes next assignment. he always looked forward to their missions together, and always felt responsible when something went wrong.

when Phoenix was assigned the mission to destroy the death engine, well let’s just say he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

He knew, even with the escape pod detaching from the station before it detonated, and the training and the countless backup plans that would ensure Phoenix made it back definitely not unscathed but at the very least alive, he knew that their was a high chance that that would be their last mission together, and of course Phoenix knew this to, and stupidly, stubbornly, bravely , threw themselves headfirst into the mission without a second thought because they knew it needed to be done.

—————————————————————

On their way to board the death engine, Reginald could feel Phoenix fear through the mental link. It was weak, almost lost under the stronger feeling of determination, which was definitely there as well.

“Agent, I want to say something before you get up there”

A short pause came before phoenixes response

[has the mission changed sir?]   he could hear mentally in his mind, his heart broke when he picked up the hopefulness in the link, they really didn’t want do this, did they?

“No, the plan hasn’t changed, I…”

They were about to do something highly discouraged by the agency, and slightly unprofessional by its standards, but he didn’t care, if this was their last mission, they wanted them to know.

“I think after all this time together, you don’t need to call me sir anymore agent.. “

Another pause, a much longer one..

[okay… but I’m not sure what other title to give you.. I can’t really think of a stand in for sir.. at least not right now, what did you have in mind?]

God am I really going to do this?

Sigh “agent, you know me far better than most, and you don’t even know my name, I think the time for formalities has came and gone. My name is Reginald Craine, and I think you deserve to know that about me before…”

Before what? They die, they part ways? They-

[before I get up there… thank you si.. I mean…]

God this is why isn’t it, this was a huge mistake

[thanks Craine, that.. well let’s just say that saying it means a lot is an understatement.. I’m sorry I can’t return the favour]

Reginald was confused.

“What do you mean?”

A somehow even longer silence came.

[I don’t… I don’t know who I am… I don’t remember my name…  where i came from or, who i was before the agency… the last thing i can remember was waking up from getting my implant put in and… well… I only know the minimal information thats on my file, agent #146, mute, acceptional on the field… nothing else.. ]

Reginald was the one silent this time. He was processing this new info about his agent. And the more he realized, his agent knew more about him than basically anyone else in his life, and yet, he knew nothing about them.

“God… I’m so sorry Agent why didn’t you tell the agency?!? I… we could have helped you!”

His agent paused, Choosing his words carefully.

[no ones ever cared enough about me to ask, it never even remotely came up. most other agents don’t speak to their superiors unless they’re spoken to first, and well, they only ever speak to us when they need to, and most of the time, the agent just needs to nod and say “affirmative” and then, poof, their gone again. I’m honestly shocked about your openness to talking to me even when you’re instructing me during missions… you’re the.. never mind]

“I’m what?” He asked concerned feeling the strong wave of uncertainty and hesitation through the link.

[nothing Craine… sir… It’s not remotely important]

“Agent..” He began comfortingly, hoping the link would carry his feelings of guilt and shame over his the agency’s failure to his agent.

“You can’t remember your own name, that’s extremely important. please , you need help, and I will do everything in my power to help you. But I can’t do anything if you don’t talk to me. So drop the “sir” talk and tell me what’s going on.” He practically begged.

One last silence came over them before the agent took in a shaky breath and said

[you are the only person in my life who’s treated me like a person and not an asset and… I… ]

A wave of emotions carried through the link, relief, sadness, but mostly an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

[thank you Craine… for everything]

The agents ship landed at the death engine. They had managed to board the station without rising suspicion, and he was feeling quite proud. All seemed to be going well!

“All right agent now..”  until they heard a computerized voice on the other end of the ear piece. And a voice saying… brace for impact? And…

“Is that a countdown I’m hearing, but what could…”

Oh no.

“Oh my god, AGENT, ITS FIRING , YOU NEED TO-!”

A deafening explosion reverted through the earth. The ground vibrating violently as the building shook A massive earthquake broke through the earth, all phones were down, the line, silent. The last thing Reginald felt through the mental link, was desperation, and fear.

They tried to reach their agent through the link. barely retaining their composure.

“Agent… Agent do you copy?”

Silence

Suddenly they felt panic rise, an unexpected wave of desperation washed over them as they called out again, voice breaking.

“Agent come in… Agent do you.. agent please answer… oh god please no … AGENT?!”

They blinked back uninvited tears but still no answer…

They were on their own

Chapter Text

Ok. So they have no way to communicate and most likely zero help on the way because there’s no way they should have survived that but life loves pulling out uno reverse cards on their mortality so they’re here now regardless.

Why can’t things ever just go as planned? Why do I always end up bleeding out in some sort of accident? Get the briefcase to head quarters they said, it’ll be easy they said! Crain if I survive this I swear to god-

A wave of dizziness came over them, and that’s when they snapped out of their mental rabbit hole and realized..

fuck. Blood.. like way too much blood.

They then realized they had been stabbed through their side by a huge piece of metal debris and were most certainly going to bleed out if they didn’t do something about it like right fucking now.

So they looked around for anything that could help them.

Ok a screwdriver won’t help.

Junipers mask… broken beyond repair

A zorazis cigar, not exactly.

God what else.

Um, a spray bottle of lubricant and of course their lighter-

oh god please no

Good news: They knew how to stop the bleeding.

Bad news: it was gonna hurt like hell.

Earlier during the mission (before everything had gone to shit) they had put the spray can up against their lighter and sure enough, it was flammable. So they had the world’s tiniest flame thrower at their disposal.

Luckily there was no exit wound so they would only have to torch their own skin once to cauterize the skin and stop the bleeding. Yep, that was unfortunately the only way to not bleed out. To burn their own skin until it seals the gash.

Once they got the debris out, the already profusely bleeding wound was going to be bleeding even worse. they had to do this fast wich meant that they had to pull themselves together and just get whatever excruciating pain they were about to experience over with.

They used their TK to grab their lighter, the blood loss made it difficult, their brain needing to focus hard on what they wanted to do or else their hold on it would slip away. Their maneuvering of the lighter was uncoordinated and clumsy, their hands shaking as they opened it and sparked up a flame.

It was a small sense of comfort, watching the flame dance around, one sorely needed in their quite dire situation. They grabbed the spray, positioned it towards the wound and used their implant to make it hover. They bit down on a piece of wood and counted down before pulling the large piece of shrapnel out of their leg.

it hurt like a bitch and bled rivers of blood, but they knew it would be nothing compared to what they had to do next.

needless to say, It wasn’t pleasant.

It took everything they had left in them not to scream. They bit down on the piece of wood so hard they were sure it would break. White spots flooded their vision as searing hot pain overwhelmed their senses. they kept their hand steady as long as they could, but every second was agony. And the horrific pain turned into a dull ache.

The feeling was getting farther and farther away, as the white spots closed in more and more. they had flashbacks to the death engine.

The agonizing change in cabin air pressure. The searing heat of atmospheric re entry. The change of altitude so violent it overwhelmed their senses. It crescendoed until it became an all encompassing cacophony of pain.

And just like that day, just when it seemed like they couldn’t take it anymore. They made impact with the ground, and in one terrible moment, the pain spiked like nothing before. And stopped.

Unlike that day, They didn’t wake up half responsive in a stretcher to the voice of their handler.

They woke up to a dark silence, cold, suffering, and oh so terrifyingly alone.

Chapter Text

Reginald was off to his first meeting after the peace summit. The agency was going to discuss how to move forward from then on. Reginald didn’t really didn’t want to go. It felt like a waste of time when they should be focusing on the search teams dispatched to find Phoenix, but it was the only way for him to be in the loop and help find them. 

He walked in to what he had been expecting to be a busy war table, mapping out the search efforts. but instead, was all his superiors sitting calmly around the table, pen in hand, and files at the ready. Acting like they had nothing else to do.

The table was small, only a handful of people had high enough ranking to be able to participate in these meetings and he was only barely able to himself. The agency liked to keep their cards close to their chest. It could be frustrating. But not nearly as frustrating as today would be.

“Mr. Craine, sit down. We would like to applaud you on your exceptional work on stopping the peace summit. We would like to give you a vacation as a show of our gratitude. There’s one of the agency’s private planes on standby ready to take you wherever you want to go.”

Odd. This was not at all what he had expected to be discussing when he walked into this meeting, and he felt quite uncomfortable about being praised with his agent still M.I.A.

He decided to promptly ignore the misplaced words and focus on the matter at hand. 

“Director, any updates on agent Phoenix. I have a few suggestions on how to proceed on the search attempts”

However the table when silent. Everyone there had a different reaction, from confused, stern to even amused. 

Director morales looked up and down at him as if he had said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“I’m terribly sorry, what?” He said

Reginald was Taken aback by this reaction. He felt rage start to simmer inside him at the blatant disregard of Phoenix.

“excuse me but agent 146, has there been any updates about them” they clarified. Hoping that his superiors had simply not yet heard of their new code name. 

After a moment of processing they finally found words. 

“Ah yes your previous agent, we’ll get you a replacement right away!”  He said 

Reginald was fuming now.

“A… a replacement? And how exactly do you plan on replacing them?” He said.

“I know that there is no other asset with the same, how do I say this… creative… methods as 146, but we have plenty of assets with exceptional competence on the field that I’m sure you will find more than ready to be deployed”

They couldn’t believe what they were hearing 

“I’ll be sure to take a look when the search is done, but until then is there anything I should know?” He said with clenched teeth 

“What search?”

They were appalled

“What do you mean what search? The one to recover the agent from the peace summit? To at least find.. I-i-I don’t know something to at the very least honour their legacy. Their- their sacrifice. Their…”

A lump formed in his throat, he could barely get the word out

“Their death?” He forced out

“Mr Craine I’m sorry but, you want us to be spending our time and money sending out search vehicles to a smoking creator in the Black Sea simply to recover you don’t know what. to,how did you put it, honour the quote on quote “legacy” of your terminated asset?”

They clenched their fists so hard he thought he’d draw blood

“You haven’t done anything yet?” He said through clenched teeth, tears of rage in his eyes.

“What do you mean yet? Never once have we done anything about the lost causes. If agent 146 survived the peace summit then it is safe to assume they will be terminated shortly and then we will assign you a replacement so that we can move things along again.” He said, as if Phoenix was nothing more than a toy that had broken and was simply being thrown away for a new one.

This couldn’t be the organization he was a part of, this couldn’t have been the place he helped build from the start. He couldn’t have spent years only to have this be what he was fighting for. No. Nono Nono no! 

“Mr Crain!” Yelled the director, finally snapping him out of his spiral. The meeting room was empty now. Everyone else having left at the demand of their superior. 

“Get ahold of yourself. You saved the world. You should be celebrating. Not fussing over the loss of an asset! Least of all one as undignified and disrespectful as agent 146, take your vacation and focus on what matters, the longevity of the E.O.D, of your position and our future.” 

Reginald was never one for violence, he was soft spoken and respectful, but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pound the director to the ground. He was never so angry about anything in his entire life. He wanted to scream, to fight, to run and to cry all at the same time. 

Because how dare anyone say that about Phoenix. 

How dare anyone look at what they did. How they sacrificed everything, over and over again with no regard for their own life.

How they fought tooth and nail for no reward, for a world who didn’t know they existed. For a world that hadn’t even given them the knowledge of their own name. 

And talk about them. Phoenix. His agent. His hero, his..  his kid. 

Like they were no less than a god damn hero.

Reginald’s knuckles relaxed. He looked at Morales

“Yes I think you’re quite right actually. I do need a break.”

He thought about what Morales had said to him. 

“There’s one of the agency’s private planes on standby ready to take you wherever you want to go.”

He looked down at the map on the table at the closest agent rendezvous points from where the peace summit took place.

He walked out, and drove straight to the private landing strip, to the plane that was waiting for him.

“Bagdad please”

Phoenix saved the world.

And now it was his turn to save him

Phoenix survived atmospheric re entry in an escape pod with a massive hole in the hull. They weren’t dead because of some damn elevator.

They couldn’t be.

He knew Phoenix would fight till their last breath to make it back.

So he’d be damned if he left him to fight alone. 

Chapter Text

Phoenix is surprised when they actually wake up. Because honestly that plan shouldn’t have worked.

They nearly smile at themselves as they think:

against all of gods best efforts, agent Phoenix lives to see another day… or another collapsing structure at least.

It’s still dark out when they wake up so either they were out for like two minutes or like a whole day.

They get up, barely, and everything aches.

Okay feels like the ladder.

Leaning heavily of a piece of rubble, they try and take a step, they immediately feel a sharp pain the moment pressure is put on their leg and they fall forward barely able catch themselves before they hit the concrete.

…well fuck. ow … broken leg is less than ideal…

God they’re gonna die here aren’t they?

They found their broken earpiece on the ground, and gripped it tight, blinking back tears.

No, no thinking like that, you are getting out. You hear that. Reginald is waiting, probably blaming himself, bless his heart, and you are not going to give up and let him think your death is on him.

They knew the earpiece was broken, but still, they put it on, finding comfort it it’s familiar weight.

If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for him. Or at the very least do it for the look on Zors face when they realize you survived another one of their stupid death traps.

They bushed past the pain in their body and rose up from the ground.

You are agent Phoenix

They ignored the agony shooting up their leg as they staggered forward, barely able to stand.

You’ve got a goddamn reputation to uphold.

——

Control point Bagdad was dark, empty, cold .

It was cluttered with files and boxes, old computers. There was an office overlooking a lower level, where a small desk was set, with nothing on it but a radio.

Reginald stepped down the staircase to it. it was clear that this was being used as a storage facility, he opened the large garage door, surprised to find a vehicle inside. They looked closer and stopped.

“Wait, that can’t be right…”

the van?

That’s when it clicked.

This was the last place Phoenix had been before the peace summit. To even get there they had to sneak into a zoraxis cargo ship that was launching off the nearby docs. That van…

God that van probably still has their things.

He couldn’t remember when he entered the van, he just realized that somewhere along the way he had. It was a mess, papers were everywhere, either folded into paper airplanes, or crumpled into balls and left discarded around the small trash bin, obvious failed attempts at throwing them through the small plastic basketball hoop above.

There was a map that showed their notes on the unfolding mission, with red strings mapping out all their previous mission locations.

The chair in the van was stiff and uncomfortable, but it was clearly worn from use. The desk had coffee staines on it, all in the shape of rings from where Phoenix had placed down their mug. The mini fridge was empty, its contents depleted. Next to it, a small, cheaply made coffee machine, with half a cup still in it, but, of course it had long since gone cold.

Looking up he could see all the many monitors crammed into the space. The screens were off, but you could still make out the words “mission debrief” burned into the pixels.

On the other wall they had a shelf that was full of random items that they had either been given during debriefings, or, of course, stolen during their missions. Reginald smiled in spite of himself at the sight of one of John Junipers award trophies sitting proudly on to top shelf.

Their eyes wondered to a desk drawer, left slightly ajar. They saw what looked like red felt lining something placed inside. They opened it out of curiosity.

Then he made a noise that was half a laugh, and half a sob when he saw all of the watches Phoenix had stolen from the unconscious bodies of zoraxis agents over the years.

Five of the six slots were filled and, Phoenix, unbelievably, had etched the names of their previous owners on small gold plates in front of each one. The last one, was yet to be filled, but it still had a name on its plate.

One word.

Zor.

Reginald looked the empty slot silently, rage threatening to overtake him at the were sight of the name. His fists were clenched so hard they shook.

Zor did this, they where the reason Phoenix was out there in a ruined building suffering to stay alive, they’re the reason Reginald had to carry a half dead Phoenix out of a ruined space pod, begging them to stay awake. all the hell this damn kid had been forced to endure, had been because of them.

Suddenly he slammed the drawer closed with a force that shook the entire vehicle. He slammed his fist on the desk, his body shaking as he looked down, blinking back tears. “Phoenix, I swear to you, we’re will fill that slot. We are going to get that bastard, and they’re going to pay, for everything that they put you through. I promise, on my life… I’m going to make sure you get to go home ”

Chapter Text

Phoenix was numb. The longer he dragged themselves along, the more the thought was eating at them. The gut feeling that something was off.

How are they still alive?

It should be impossible, the first time they cheated death, maybe, but twice, and in this bad of condition? They should have died hours ago, how did they-

A noise made them stop in their tracks.

A voice

A familiar one.

An annoying one.

Juniper.

“Westley, for the last time, get me a ship to my exact location now! Do not make me ask again!”

They decided to peak.

John Juniper looked like hell, he had an ugly burn across his face, his suit, usually sharp and spotless, was completely ruined, and he looked very very upset about his current condition.

They didn’t see another way off this island without a boat though, And as much as they hated Juniper, they hated Dying (maybe? Probably? Eventually?) even more.

With a considerable amount of effort, Phoenix found a sharp piece of shrapnel and used their TK to put it against Junipers throat.

Juniper then back up into a wall. “WHOA, RELAX, WHOS THE HELL IS THERE?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?!”

Phoenix approches out of the shadows. Juniper didn’t seem to be surprised they weren’t dead, in fact, he seemed more annoyed than anything else.

“Oh, it’s you, shouldn’t you be gone by now, throwing a victory party with your precious agency?” He said.

Phoenix was silent they used their free hand to TK a stick and in the dirt just wrote “Boat”.

“Mm, not one for small talk are you?” He said cockily. Phoenix pushed him hard against the wall, eyes colder than ice. They didn’t have time for junipers theatrics.

“OKAY YES I CALLED A BOAT!” He said.

Phoenix wrote in the dust. “Take me to Bagdad.”

Juniper scoffed at the request. “And why exactly would I do that?“

Phoenix was frustrated, this was getting nowhere, they hated doing this but they had to get off this smoking crater and there was no time to play Pictionary every time they wanted to communicate with this man.

Abruptly without warning, Phoenix grabbed John’s wrist, their hand burning painfully with telekinetic energy, then mentally they spoke words into junipers mind, the effort putting white dots in their vision.

‘Maybe because you just revealed your plan for global domination on live TV, and that may or may not cause you some issues, once you return to the mainland.’

Surprising everyone, Juniper said the next bit in sign language. “What’s the catch?”

Phoenix’s eyebrows raised in a look that screamed “you know sign?!? Since when did you know sign?!?”

Juniper did an overdramatic expression of offence, “Agent! Your surprise wounds me! You know I’m not just a pretty face, so again, I’ll ask… what’s the catch?”

Phoenix was confused, their brow furrowed as they signed furiously. “the only catch I see is that you need to get me there alive! No tricks, no masks, No theatrics. And you get away with a slap on the wrist. What’s the hold up?”

Something in junipers expression changed, like a flip had been switched in his brain. He had just figured something out, and they had no clue what it could be. A devious smile spread across his face.

“Nothing at all… my-my, agent… this could be fun”

The sinking feeling in their gut worsened, the one that was telling him something was off, that thing didn’t add up, and right now…

it was telling him that juniper knew something they didn’t.

Chapter Text

Juniper turned out not no be a total snake. They did have a boat come to extract them. Juniper had one of his minions (a new one named Westley, Gibson seemed to have been fired after the whole wine cellar fiasco) ready with a new suit, and first aid for his busted… everything.

Then, he sat down across from Pheonix on the green leather seat adjacent to the one  that Phoenix was currently sitting in, leaned across the table and said. “So agent, you got a name?”

They signed [“Not one for you”].

the movements were uncoordinated but intelligible, their hand eye coordination was getting worse and worse, but with how numb with pain their body was, they expected far worse.

Juniper nodded, “Ah! right, Super secret agent, can’t be giving out names! Well, at least I came up with a good substitute!”

He slouched back again “So, how come the agency didn’t come for their precious Phoenix? Did no one ever teach them to pick up their toys?”

[“they think I’m dead. hell, I probably should be”]

“But you’re not? Why?”

Phoenix snapped up

What?

Juniper shrugged “In my line of work, people only come back from the dead for two reasons, love or revenge, so where do you fall on that line?”

Oh.

They relaxed again [“Neither”]

“Ha! Well I don’t buy that for a moment!”

[“well it’s true.”]

“Agent please, I know exactly who’s got you crawling back, no one’s that determined to return to their nine to five”

Oh boy this should be good.

[“by all means go ahead”]

“Your handler, Reginald Craine.”

Phoenix froze.

Juniper smiled, like that was all the proof they needed “Darling I chose to impersonate him for a reason”

Phoenix gave them dagger eyes sharp enough to draw blood

[“call me “darling” again and I kill you where you stand”]

Juniper scoffed at the threat. “Oh no I don’t think you will. You see, it took me a while but I finally figured out your character.”

Phoenix attempted to brush him off casually.

[“oh yeah? And what is that?”]

Juniper smiled, getting up, circling the table like he was beginning a monologue, and, unbeknownst to Phoenix, he was.

“You try so hard to be the fearless super agent, the queen in life’s game of chess, quick witted, cool and collected in danger, laughing in the face of death. You get in and out, and you hit them hard and fast. and I must say you hide well behind that poker face, but, you have one massive tell” he stated.

He then reached for phoenixes earpiece, they flinched violently, seconds away from striking junipers face, which was currently bearing a mischievous grin.

“You constantly, are wearing your earpiece, you never take it off, and when you can’t use it, the mask falls just enough to see one moment where true terror strikes your face.” He then gave out a mean spirited laugh. Phoenix bit their cheek.

“Oh! and when you get it up and running again, all the tension in your little winged body disappears. And you deflate like a red headed ballon. it’s very cute!”

Phoenix stood up sharply signing defensively [“And? I wear a busted earpiece, congrats on using your fucking eyes! What now Sherlock? How does any of that tell you anything about me?”]

Juniper calmly stands up, walks up to them and says sadistically;

“It tells me you’re scared ”

Phoenix’s eyes widen, the words hitting harder than they could ever have imagined.

“You’re scared, because he means something to you, something more important than the mission”

Phoenix backed away.

[“stop”]

They moved forward. “You’re scared because he treats you like a person, and you can’t have that at the EOD, can you?”

[“I said stop it”]

“It’s terrifying isn’t it? Having something to lose, or worse, something to want.”

Phoenix’s back was pressed against the wall, their breathing turning fast and shallow.

“But there’s no room for “want” in the agency is there? Only “need” and all an agent needs is a target, a gun and the guts to fire it. You don’t need a name when the number 146 will suffice, you don’t need a voice when just a nod will do.”

Stop, everything hurts, I can’t breathe, I can’t move, just stop.

“But it’s that want, that’s what haunts you. You want a name, you want a voice, you want a past, you want a future. A future beyond targets, beyond the blood, beyond the mission. You want him, but he’s not here, and that’s whats eating at you, that the one person who fought for you, cared for you, gave you that want, left you to rot on an island in the middle of the Black Sea.”

At this point they were hyperventilating, everything was too much, it wasn’t fair.

“You saw a father, he saw the piece on the board, not the queen, not even the knight… But a pawn, somthing he can use, and cast aside. A blank slate. Something with no name, no voice, no past of any kind. A toy. A tool.”

What?

He grabbed Phoenix’s wrists and pinned them against the wall, leaning in close enough to wiper in their ear…

“Its time to face the music agent, you and I both know they know more than what they let on, they did something to you, and now all that’s left is the perfect soldier, the soldier that is no soldier at all..”

Tear were falling freely now, silently, each one a betrayal. Satisfied with his work, juniper backed away and patted Phoenix on the head. They barely registered it.

“Now-now agent, don’t cry, you are a weapon…”

they tuned around, walking away before glancing back at the sound of phoenix falling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. With one final glance back, they finished their monologue with four words, each one sharp and final, dripping with venom;

“and weapons.”

“don’t.”

“weep.”